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dino-cattivo · 7 months

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Pray for me, cos I won't pray for you

My fic for the @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang!

The amazing art for this fic was done by @jeniidrawsshit and oh my god I love it so so much. It is just so amazing.

LINK TO THE ART!!! GO CHECK IT OUT!!

Pairing: Hob/Dream

Rating: mature

Word Count: 40,657

Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, gore like the dinner episode, The Corinthian is His Own Warning (The Sandman), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Alternate Universe - Mob, Organized Crime, Hob joins the mafia, Self Confidence Issues, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, POV Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling Needs A Hug, Misunderstandings

Summery: After their fight in 1889 Hob falls in with a bad crowd thanks to a boy that reminds him of Robyn. He tries to stop his descent into crime not wanting to be reduced to being nothing more than a murderer again. But eh fails. Compared to all the live he ends helping to guard a basement is tame. If only Corinthian, the right hand man of his employer, would stop flirting with him despite being turned down multiple times already.

Chapter 1 under the cut. Will repost the next chapters as reblog because of word limit.

~1889~

“You knew Lady Johanna. You know, Lushing Lou. You know everyone, don't you?” Hob asked in wonder. He may not know who or rather what his stranger was, but he could never help but be amazed by everything he could do. Sometimes when he laid awake, unable to catch sleep, he came up with the wildest theories about the man. He imagines him being a vampire, a fae, and even considered an old god from Greece. But he would never know, as his stranger never revealed anything about himself, not even his name.

It felt unfair in a way. Him knowing everything about Hob, while Hob got nothing. It had crossed his mind to be petty, to keep things to himself, go against their deal in a way. But Hob couldn’t stop himself from telling the man whatever he could when they saw each other, eager to be able to share.

“I saw her again, you know.”

“Who? Lady Johanna?” Worry flared up. He knew his stranger was fine, sitting across the table from him. He also knew the man was strong enough to protect himself. But he couldn’t help wanting to be there, to protect, to keep his stranger safe, even at the cost of his own freedom.

“She undertook a task for me and succeeded admirably, I might add.”

Jealousy, burning hot, filling his veins. He tried to tamper it down, to net let it get to him, but he couldn’t help himself. All the time he had wanted nothing more than to get close to his stranger, to prove his worth, and now he had offered that chance to someone else. He had chosen someone who had hunted them down and tried to do harm instead of someone he shared centuries of friendship with.

It hurt.

Although, could he hold it against his stranger? The man knew Hob for so long, knew what he has done, knew all his failures during his long life. So it was no wonder he didn’t trust Hob enough to ask him for a favor. His voice was filled with self-loathing as he spoke. “That might be the only thing I've learned after 500 years. People are almost always better than you think they are. Not me, though. Still the same as ever.”

“I think perhaps you've changed.” Hob’s heart started beating faster at the other’s words. Did he really think so? Hob wished it was true. He wants to change, to be good, worthy of his stranger.

“Well, I may have learned a bit from my mistakes. But, uh… doesn't seem to stop me from making them. I think it's you that's changed.”

“How so?”

Hob should shut up now and be content with what he had, seeing the man he had fallen for every hundred years. He should not press the issue, no matter how desperate he was to be acknowledged by the other. But Hob had never been smart when it came to things he desired.

“I think I know why we still meet here, century after century. It's not because you want to see whether or not I'm ready to seek death. I don't think I'll ever seek death. By now, you know that about me. So, I think you're here for something else.”

“And what might that be?” His stranger looked curious at that. Hob liked the look as it meant he had done something to surprise the man.

“Friendship. I think you're lonely.” And in true Hob fashion, he managed to put his foot in his mouth. He knew the moment he had spoken, he had made a mistake. It was the truth, but the wording was just unfortunate and way too blunt. And not at all how he had planned to breach the topic.

“You dare…”

“No, look, I'm not saying–,” Hob tried to backpedal, but it was too late. “You… dare suggest one such as I might need your companionship.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Maybe despite Hob’s foolish approach, there was a chance all of this still had a good outcome, and they would get closer. “Then I shall take my leave of you and prove you wrong.” Or maybe not. Hob sprang up from his chair and chased after his stranger as the man strode out of the tavern. The man couldn’t do this. If he wanted or not, they were friends. You didn’t just storm off and leave your friends behind.

“I'll tell you what, I'll be here in 100 years' time. If you're here then, too, it'll be because we're friends. No other reason, right?” He was met by silence as his stranger didn’t seem fit to answer and just disappeared.

“Fսck.”

~1897~

He was pissed, absolutely livid. Who did he think he was? He had no right to speak to Hob like this, no matter how powerful he was. That was not how things worked. You couldn’t be an asshole like that and expect people to stick around. Hob didn’t need him. They saw each other only every hundredth years, and even then the stranger often didn’t have time for Hob and fucked off with someone else. So what if Shakespeare was famous now? Hob would still have been better company back then. No, he didn’t need the man. He would make new friends. Better ones.

~1936~

Okay, so maybe mistakes had been made and Hob should have chosen his words more carefully. That was on him. His stranger still shouldn’t have exploded like this and should rather have tried to talk things out like a grown up, but still – Hob hadn’t been entirely blameless in the situation.

When they saw each other the next time he would have to apologize and maybe then they could laugh together about the stupid fight. Or well, Hob had never seen his stranger laugh, couldn’t even imagine it. He would settle for a smirk then.

~1983~

Anxiety was settled deep in his chest. What if his stranger proved him wrong. What if he didn’t show, determined to not give in. Hob had no way of finding him. He didn’t even know who he was looking for. What would Hob even do? Nothing besides showing up in the White Horse every hundred years and praying at some point his stranger would forgive him and come for him.

Once more, he felt powerless in their relationship. It was the whole reason why he had even started the fight, wanting to know more, anything about his stranger. He didn’t want to be on equal footing, knowing it would never be, but he wanted something that was his. He didn’t want to be just another amusement the man had, but to mean at least something to the other.

Tears sprung to his eyes as he hit his desk in frustration. It was unfair. The stranger meant too much to him, was such a big part of his life, and Hob didn’t even know if he was the only immortal he kept. Maybe Shakespeare was out there under a new name, living his best life and meeting his stranger more often than every hundredth years. And there was nothing Hob could do about it, no way for him to even find out.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on any more work, he gathered his documents and put them in a briefcase before leaving the empty office and making his way through the dark street. They were in the progress of having the gas street-lamps replaced by electrical once, but it was slow progress. And during it many streets stayed dark, since repairing gaslights when they were about to be replaced was a waste of resources according to the major. Hob didn’t care too much, he didn’t fear the dark.

He should have.

A dark figure stepped in front of him, barely noticeable in the moonlight. Turning around to run, he saw another figure blocking the other exit of the street and walking towards Hob. A flash of metal in the dark, a weapon. Hob swallowed, not because he was scared, he had survived much worse, but because it spelled trouble, and he couldn’t risk anyone finding out he was immortal. Not with times changing and hiding who he was becoming more and more difficult.

“Your money or your life,” Hob had to suppress a snort at the nasal voice. Ah, criminals, always the same no matter how many centuries passed. He remembered the time well, when he was in the other's position, stopping the carriages of rich folks and demanding the valuables. He had used the exact same words. Although, he guessed there was no much need for flair when it came to such simple matters.

“Alright, I will give you what I have. Please don’t hurt me,” Hob held up his hands, talking calm and trying not to provoke them. He couldn’t die, sure, but being stabbed hurt like a freaking bitch. Hob would rather part with some cash he had on hand and his watch. Nothing holding real value to him, and easy enough to replace.

So very slowly and telegraphing his movement clearly, he reached inside his coat and pulled out his wallet, holding it out until it was snatched from his fingers. Next was his watch that got the same treatment. And still Hob was well-behaved, not struggling, calm and cooperating. He gave no reason for the situation to escalate, giving his robbers all chances to just leave now with their loot.

Which was why Hob was so surprised when pain exploded at the side of his head. He stumbled, his knee hitting the pavement, his palm getting scratched as he caught himself. Blinking, he tried to lift the haze from his thoughts as he looked up at the two shapes hovering above him.

It was only instincts, honed through centuries with conflicts, that saved him, his head ducking automatically as he heard the swish of metal through the air. But just because the knife didn't slash his face didn't mean he was safe, as he was not as fortunate in avoiding the kick to his side. He cried out as pain exploded in his ribs. Every fiber of his being wanted him to curl up and protect his soft belly, but he forced down this instinct with gritted teeth.

No, if you wanted to survive, you had to fight with everything you got. Using the momentum of the kick, he stumbled back to his feet, and got some distance between himself and the attackers. Despite the throbbing in his head, he now could see them more clearly, that was not the face of someone just messing around. No, they wore big smiles, and were enjoying his pain. They wouldn't stop. At least not on their own.

One of them, heavy dark coat, spindly frame, soon ran towards Hob, knife in hand. Amateur movements. Hob stepped forward, getting close, deflected the blade by smacking the other's arm. His knee meets the other's stomach, sending him down. Before he could make sure he stayed down the other man, this one smaller but wider, jumped on him, and they tumbled to the ground.

That was fine. Hob knew how to wrestle and had the other in a chokehold in seconds. Still two against one, but he kicked out the legs of the man running towards him to tear him off his friend.

The body was suddenly in free-fall, arms whirling trying to get back balance.

Then a sickening crunch and Hob froze.

He had heard it often during his lifetime. He had sworn he would no longer be the cause of it.

Looking over, he didn't need to see the neck bend in an awkward position to know the man was gone.

Hob had killed him. He hadn't meant to, it had been an accident. But he had killed someone.

After all the lifetime he had lead and all the killing and dying he had done, he had wanted to be done with it. He just wanted to live in peace and do let others do the same. But now he had ripped someone else out of their life. How could he live with himself knowing what he had just done.

“Chris,” the man, Hob was still entangled on the ground with, cried out and struggled to free himself. Hob helped him as best as he could now that he was no longer in danger of being attacked.

Getting up himself, he saw the man kneeling next to the body crying, shaking it and begging for Chris to open his eyes. The man didn’t. They never did. Once someone was gone, there was nothing you can do, no matter how you cried out to your stranger to spare them.

Suddenly the man got up, swinging at Hob, but in his grief it had become uncoordinated and Hob easily stopped the punch.

“You murderer! You killed him!”

He hadn’t meant to. And it wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t attacked him. But pointing that out wouldn’t help, as the man would not listen to reason. He wanted someone to be angry at, to blame, to lessen his own guilt. And Hob was the perfect target. Hob stopped the other punch and just held on as the man cried. It was the least Hob could do.

There was the sound of footsteps in the distance, spooking the man, and he ripped himself free and started stumbling away. Hob didn’t stop him, just sitting down on the ground next to the cooling body and waited. He should probably call the police, but he couldn’t bring himself to move, so he just waited. How long he didn’t know, but at some point steps came closer and when he looked up Hob could see men in uniform entering the alley. The police has arrived.

Hob didn’t resist when he was dragged up and cold iron snapped around his wrist. Neither when he was pulled away. Everything was a blur. He didn’t remember how they made it to the station, just that he found himself in a chair, an officer sitting on the other side of the desk staring him down.

He was asked questions he can’t answer, the full name of the victim, their relationship and most of all why he did it. All Hob can say is, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, they attacked me first, I just tried to defend myself, then he fell. Over and over, he repeats it like a mantra. Something to hang on when everyone wants to make him believe he did it on purpose. When their words make him question himself.

I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I was just defending myself.

He didn’t know how much time has passed, there was no clock in the room nor window. His voice was rough and black spots dance on the edge of his vision, they hadn’t bothered giving him a glass of water. The blood in his hair from the first swing he took was dry and flaking off every time he shakes his head in denial. His ribs throb with every breath.

He was about to just nod, accept whatever they said if it meant he will be thrown into a cell where he could lay down and close his eyes. It would ruin his life, but wouldn’t that be right after what he had done? A few years of suffering was the least he deserved. Especially since he unlike others had the option to start anew after faking his death.

His downward spiral was stopped by a man bargain in, under loud protests of some officers. The man’s briefcase hit the desk hard, and Hob flinched back at the loud noise.

“Don’t say anything,” sharp blue eyes drilled into Hob’s making him cower at the imposing figure in front of him. The man commanded respect, not because of the nice suit he was wearing or the expensive jewelry or because he was even taller than Hob, but in the way he held himself, his presence filling the whole room.

So Hob shut his mouth. It was not like anyone was really listening to what he had to say anyway. And not speaking would be good for the scratching in his throat. His fate now would be decided if the new person was a friend or someone wanting to drag him down. Hob didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

“You,” the man whirled on the officer, making him duck on instinct, only to puff up and try to make himself more imposing when he noticed. “Tell me how it comes that you had him in here for 8 hours and couldn’t even be bothered to give him a glass of water nor give him medical attention? Where are we? At the witch trials,” Hob flinched hard at the words, remembering the trials only too well. Back then he had broken as well, admitting to anything as long as it meant the pain would end.

To his surprise, the stranger pushed his briefcase further on the desk, blocking Hob’s slumped form from view and gave him at least a bit of privacy as he fought with his demons.

“He killed a man! What do you expect? A fluffed up pillow and a three-course meal?”

“Human decency!” The officer was now absolutely cowering under the pressure, despite his best efforts. “Or are you that desperate you couldn’t take the 10 minutes to have him checked over? Maybe because you know you don’t have a case?”

“Bullshit! I know you love to put your nose where it doesn’t belong, Mr. Henderson. He killed the guy. We found him next to the corpse, and he admitted it was him who made the deceased fall.”

“And wasn’t he also quite persistence that the deceased and another man were the once attacking him, and he was just defending himself? Or are you just going to ignore that? So I suggest instead of harassing the victim, you should rather be out there looking for the second attacker.”

And the officer, despite his complaints and grumbling, got up and left the room. There was no way to know if he was really searching for the other attacker, and if there was even a chance to find the man with how little information Hob had been able to give, but getting a breather was enough for Hob.

His head laid on the desk, the cold helping against his headache, and he just rested his eyes for a moment. He heard movement but ignored Mr. Henderson for now. Or at least he tried to, but the man kneeled down next to Hob’s chair and his hand laid on Hob’s knee.

Blinking his eyes back open was an effort, but Hob managed and looked down at the concerned eyes looking up at him.

“Mr. Gadling, I wish could say it will be alright, but your situation doesn’t look good. But rest assured, I will do anything in my power to get you out of this.”

“I don’t think I have the money to pay your commission,” Hob was not poor. But the last years after he had fought with his friend, he had let himself go. Gambling, and throwing money at unnecessary luxuries just because he could. When he had pulled his head out of his ass, he had already spent most of his fortune and was now living like the middle class. Not bad, but not enough to pay a man wearing jewelry that could feed a family for at least a year.

“Don’t worry about money. Just focus on getting through this.”

Hob snorted, so either once he was out the man would make demands to be paid back another way, forcing Hob into his servitude, or he was just plain stupid. Saying that straight to the man’s face was not the best idea, but the man just laughed.

“Personally, I see myself as someone just trying to do the right thing, reforming the misdeeds in the justice system.”

So, delusional. But Hob could work with that. And having a delusional lawyer was better than not having one at all, so accepting the help would be best.

“The biggest problem is all we have to confirm your story is your word. Even if the police showed an ounce of competence and finds the other robber, he will tell his own story.” Hob knew all that. He didn’t know why the other even bothered, since there was no way he would get out of here. Not with everyone in the station being hellbent on making sure he went to prison. But at least he got to go to a holding cell for now and take a nap until Mr. Henderson would return the next day.

And return he did with a big smile on his face. The police had not found the other robber, but they had found a woman hanging around the alleyway, and with a bit of pressure she had admitted to seeing the whole thing backing up Hob’s story. The officers complained and tried to poke holes in his defense, but in the end they had no other option but to accept that his actions had been to defend his own life.

Things dragged on, Hob being pushed from one cell to the other as people discussed his fate. Mr. Henderson, please call me Edward, was there every step of the way and the only reason why Hob didn’t fell apart.

Still, Hob couldn’t believe it when the judge finally spoke the words not guilty, and he was stepping into the sun. Till the last moment he had waited for the second shoe to drop, for someone to jump out and present new evidence sending him to jail.

Turning to Edward standing beside him, smiling brightly, he couldn’t help himself, but pulling the man into his arms and thanking him under tears. The man had been there for him, like a true friend, and if he ever needed it, Hob would be there for him in return.

He had lost his stranger, but he was not alone. There were good people out there, just waiting for him. All Hobs had to do was open his heart and accept them.

With this being over, Hob could move on with his life. Things finally looked up. Or they did until he found out he had no longer a job because of his long absence and his old boss was unwilling to hire a killer despite Hob being proclaimed not guilty. Hob didn’t understand it, but he was unwilling to start a fight. He could find someplace else. Only words of his case had spread through the whole city, and no one was willing to hire him. And without a job there was no money which meant he would be unable to pay his upcoming rent.

But nothing he tried worked. The only positions willing to hire him wouldn’t even make a dent in his rent, even if he had three jobs. And with the housing shortage, there was no place else he could live that would be cheaper. He could move, somewhere no one knew him. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave London. This was his home, where his only friend lived. And he had to be here in a few years to be at the White Horse in case his stranger returned.

He could ask Edward for help, but he didn’t want it to seem he was just after the other's money. Especially with Edwards business taking a major hit after a person he was defending was proven guilty. Hob tried to help as best as he could behind closed doors but knew he couldn’t do more since it wouldn’t look good on Edward if he was seen with Hob.

It was a major point of friction. Edward didn’t care about his reputation and had no trouble inviting Hob out for dinner or even hiring him. But Hob refusing frustrated him, especially when Hob even declined his money, despite Edward knowing how much Hob was struggling. He just wanted to support his best friend and being unable to do so and just having to watch how he made himself smaller and smaller, shrinking under all negative attention focused on him angered him.

Their love for each other made them want the best for each other. And it tore their friendship apart. They were unable to spend time together without a disagreement, and then their friendship ended in a big fight.

And it was Hob fault. He always said the wrong thing, turning away the people he cared about. First his stranger now Edward. Maybe he was meant to be alone.

But the world didn’t stop for his emotional turmoil. The rent needed to be paid, now especially since there was no longer a friend who would have a place on their sofa for Hob to sleep on. And Hob really needed to keep a roof over his head.

He was terrified of ending back on the street. He did it once, and it was the worst time of his life. Just a nightmare of pain, suffering, anger, blood, and a desperate fight for survival. He knew getting back up once you were so far down was almost impossible. He couldn’t let it get this far. Not if there was something he could do. Even if it means he had to let go of his pride.

The first time wasn’t planed. Was just walking, trying to clear his head and finding a way out. The window was open, everything else dark, and no car in the driveway. He knew it was wrong, he should be better than this.

He climbed the fence and slipped through the window, heart beating fast as he listened for any sign of life inside the house. Nothing. Sneaking around, he grabbed anything of value.

Ten minutes later he was out, pockets heavy, and on his way to the pawnshop. It was not enough to pay the rent but enough to satisfy his landlord getting another week before he would be kicked out.

It made him think about how easy it had been. And how little effort had taken to get the money. And it was not as if he hadn’t tried other options. It was them, society, not giving him a choice. If they had just given him a job, he wouldn’t be in this position. It was their fault, not his.

And it was not as if he had hurt anyone. A few valuables were gone. And? They could replace it, their house had been nice enough they could afford a small loss like that.

Yes. It was the least all of them deserved for letting him down like this. He would just take what he needed to survive. And it was only temporary until he was back on his feet. They all thought he was a murderer, a bit of stealing was nothing in comparison.

It became a routine, going on nightly strolls and returning with his pocket full. He was good at it. Always knew when someone was home or not, avoided being seen when he made his way inside, and didn’t spend a second longer inside than he had to.

No one had to know what Hob did. Well except, the pawnshop owner, but he didn’t say anything and just gave Hob a price much under the actual value of the items. Hob was fine with that. Paying hush money was better than being ratted out to the police. Especially since the police so far had no idea he even existed. There was always breaking and entering, and he chose his targets so far apart there was no connection. The cops had better things to do than chasing a criminal that didn’t cause real harm. And Hob liked things that way. He had managed to avoid prison once, he didn’t want to risk it, especially since this time there would be no Edward bailing him out.

His rent was paid, he had food in his belly and a new coat. Life was good. Or it should be. There was still the guilt nagging at him that all of this wasn’t his. That he had stolen it and it was wrong. But with every failed attempt to find another source of income, he fell deeper into his ways. It was just too easy. Until weeks passed by without him searching for a legitimate job.

~1989~

He started hating the man he was becoming. Or rather, he was returning to. He had thought he had become better, had changed. But now he was back at square one. Just a lowlife surviving by harming others. He didn’t want to be like this.

But there was still hope. One last chance to turn things around. Hob may not have the best moral compass – if he had any at all- but his stranger always knew right from wrong. Even before society or law. It had taken him to tell Hob for Hob to realize slavery was wrong. Today it was unthinkable, but back then it has just been how things were. And even then his stranger had known it was wrong. Hob just had to tell him, and his stranger would set him right and correct Hob’s course for the next 100 years.

Yes, all Hob had to do was meet his friend and things would be okay. So he drove to the White Horse in a car he had stolen, full of excitement in the prospect of the weight leaving his chest. He would do better, become good. To get his stranger approval.

But the longer he sat there, alone, the worse he felt. It looked like this was his stranger's answer. They were never and never would be friends. Hob was alone, on his own. There was no one who cared. No one who had any expectations, everyone had given up on him. Why should he even try? If there was no one to judge him, why not make things easy for himself?

Things escalate from there, as there is nothing holding Hob back. So what if the houses he breaks into now are not from some rich fucks but middle class as well? They had shunned him just as well. And their security was a lot laxer. Also, less to steal, but it was enough. And then there was someone home, but the house was way too good to pass up on. But it was okay, he would just be quiet.

A good plan if not for the man of the house stepping out of his bed to get a glass of water just as Hob was clearing out their silver drawer. They looked at each other frozen, and Hob was glad for the hat and the scarf hiding most of his face.

Before the other could too much than let out a shocked shout, Hob had jumped over the counter and tackled him to the ground, choking him until he lost conscious. When the wife appeared in the doorway, he was prepared, knocking her unconscious.

He used things found around the house to bind them to two chairs and gag them, before taking his time emptying their whole house. They would call the police anyway, Hob could at least make it worth it. And worth it, it was. He left the pawnshop with a big bundle of cash.

And if he spotted some rich folks taking a shortcut through a dark allay, well then it was their own fault, since they had begged for it. You couldn’t blame Hob for standing there with a knife demanding their valuables in a sick play on the situation that had started this whole thing. But other than his attackers back then, he was just after the money. Once he had what he wanted, he let his victims go unharmed.

He didn’t kill. That was a line he would never cross again. And if he had to attack someone or render them unconscious, he did it with causing as little harm as possible. It was something which baffled the police and press alike, as they couldn’t decide if he was a monster or a gentleman thief. It was kinda amusing reading about people losing their mind trying to figure him out. Especially since it was that easy. He was just someone no longer following societies rules and just living by his own codex, doing whatever he pleased.

Even if this codex was completely screwed. Like right now, still blood on his knuckles from having to knock someone out who resisted, but being offended by a bunch of teens ganging up on a gangly little thing. It just strokes him wrong, seeing something like this.

But it is not his problem. There is no need to get involved.

Or at least it wasn’t until the boy rose his head and looked straight at Hob. Dark brown eyes, with hair of the same color. But that was not what stopped Hob in his tracks. He looked just like Robyn. Well, not exactly, it was more the vibes he was giving up. But Hob couldn’t stop seeing his son laying there on the ground beaten and bloody, his tormentors surrounding him.

He moved before he really thought about it.

His fist connected with the nose of the guy to the left. The bone crunched under the impact and the guy stumbled back, shouting in pain. That got the attention of the rest of his group, who instantly stepped in to avenge their friend. With no option to back out of this anymore, Hob just went with the flow and beat everyone getting into punching distance. They had the numbers, but they were untrained and rather stood in each other's way than taken advantage and overpowering Hob. Which leads to Hob standing between fallen bodies, breathing heavy and blood on his shirt but mostly unharmed beside a few bruises.

Walking over to the fallen boy, he saw him flinch. Hob hadn’t meant to scare him, although the display of violence must have been frightening. But he didn’t feel comfortable leaving him sitting on the ground with unknown injuries, especially since his attackers would get up soon.

He wanted to gain the boy's trust, but Hob had forgotten how to be comforting and soft. Hadn’t had need for it in years. Even for Edward, he had not managed to bring back that part of himself. Which was just as well because Edward liked his brash and direct way.

But now he tried, crouching down, holding out his hands and speaking softly. “It's okay. I took care of them,” well, he tried. He failed miserably, sounding more threatening than reassuring, but he had tried. How had he managed to deal with Robyn without frightening the child? He couldn’t remember. And wasn’t that sad? Not remembering this everyday life with his son, only holding some special memories close to his heart while the rest faded?

Knowing that his presence would only distress the boy more, he got up and turned to leave. He would just call the police to check things out, once he was far enough away. Only there was a tug on his pant leg and turning he saw the boy grasping the fabric with shaking fingers. The big teary eyes looking up at Hob broke his heart, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down again and pulling the boy into his arms. Crying and wailing filled the alley, but the boy clung to Hob desperately.

Carrying him into his arm and towards Hob’s apartment, reminded Hob of the times Robyn had been unable to sleep and Hob had walked through the whole house with the child in his arm to keep him calm, while Elenore watched them with a smile. He had forgotten it until his actions pulled the memory back up.

Entering his building, he sat the boy on his sofa and retrieved his extensive med-kit. Being unable to die meant treating injuries yourself that would bring up questions, going to the hospital. He didn’t need much of it to treat the boy. The injuries had looked worse than they actually were. A bloody nose, bruising, scratched hands and knees, a gash close to his hairline that luckily didn’t need stitches, and a cracked wrist.

Once the task was done, Hob looked at the boy awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“You want tea?” You could never go wrong with tea. The boy nodded and Hob set to work, returning with two mugs of tea.

“Thank you,” the voice was shy and soft. But at least the shaking had stopped as the kid started to relax.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hob meant it. Neither the tea nor stepping in had been much trouble, and Hob had done it for his own piece of mind. There was no need t thank him.

Hob swirled the tea in his mug, not knowing what to say. Should he give the kid money for a taxi? Take him home? Offer him the sofa for tonight? Hob didn’t know.

Luckily for him, the boy was not as incapable of social interaction as he was.

“My name is Georgie Baldwin. What about you.”

“Hob,” he didn’t give a last name. The less the boy knew, the better it was for him with the life Hob lived.

“Thank you for saving me, Hob,” the boy put down his empty mug, hugged Hob and then left the apartment before Hob could compose himself. He looked at the closed door not understanding what exactly had happened, but then he just shrugged. Another weird day in his weird life. No need to think deeper about it. It was not as if hew would see the boy ever again.

After cleaning up the medical equipment, he laid in bed, unable to sleep.

The encounter had brought up memories of a happier time. It made him realize just how lonely he felt. There was a gnawing emptiness in his chest, where his heart once was. He wanted someone to be there for him, to greet him when he got home, to care if he made it home. He didn’t want t be alone anymore. But every time he tried he messed up and ended up back alone. It was better to not try, and be disappointed rather than to suffer.

But knowing that didn’t fill the emptiness in his chest and no matter how much he tried he didn’t find any rest. Which left him cranky and short temperate when he stomped to the door, mug with extra strong coffee in hand, to tell whoever was on the other side to fuck off. Throwing the door open, he came face to face with the kid from yesterday.

The door banged close, as Hob didn’t have the patience to deal with whatever bullshit this was. Instead, he took a big swing of his coffee, cursed as it burned his tongue, and debated if a nice fluffy omelet was worth the effort of actually making it.

His doorbell chimed again.

Hadn’t he been clear enough in his dismissal? But no, when he opened the door, the boy was still standing there smiling at him. What a prick. But not stupid, as he held out a bag that smelled heavenly of backed goods as bribery.

With his stomach grumbling, Hob admitted defeat and took the bag, leaving the door open as he stepped inside. The boy had already been here, it wouldn’t do any harm to let him in. But Hob was not in the mood to play good host right now and didn’t offer any tea or coffee. Ripping open the bag, he found muffins and chocolate croissants. All things considered, it was a good bribe.

Humming happily, he dug in as the boy sat down watching him carefully.

“So what so you want kid?”

“It’s Georgie,” the way the kid pouted was kinda cute. He must have old ladies want to feed him all over town. “I want you to teach me how to fight.” Hob choked on the bit of croissant. He couldn’t say if it was his immortality or Georgie slapping his back that prevented him from entering the sunless lands. Whipping tears out of his eyes, he looked at the kid as if he had lost his mind.

“Are you completely crazy? Why would you ask me?”

“The way you fought was amazing. Please, I want to be able to do it too.”

“Hard pass. Why the heck should I teach a brat?”

“I can pay you,” the kid dove for his pocket and placed a stack of bills on the table. It was no small amount. So, a rich brat. Well, it was not as Hob really needed money with how well his business was going. And he would rather not involve the kid by accident. If he went down for his actions it was one thing but dragging a kid down with him was completely different. And if he gave in now, he just knew the kid would one day rob houses side by side with him.

“Pass. Go home kid. You are young and have a bright life ahead of you. There is no need to get involved with the likes of me.”

“But what if they come back?! I need to be able to defend myself,” Hob just groaned as this was just playing unfair. Especially since it was a fair point. The bullies had found him once, and there was no guarantee they wouldn’t do worse when Hob was not close by to step in. It was just unfair. Hob was not responsible for the kid, could barely remember his name. But he had made it his responsibility when he stepped in. The least he could do was see things through now.

“Okay fine. I will teach you self-defense. Nothing more. And you will stay out of my business.”

“Deal,” the kid smiled brightly as he held out his hand for Hob to shake. Knowing that one day he would regret this Hob took the offered hand.

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #centennialhusbandsbigbang

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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kpop masterlist

🍓 = fluff themes

❄️ = angst themes

🚧 = smut themes

🤸‍♀️ = slice of life / bish idek what theme this is

🚀 = crack fic themes

🎩 = dark and/or violent themes

🏩 = genre fic, i.e. mystery, horror, fantasy, etc

🍳 = slow burn

🦕 = personal favorite

back to main masterlist

A.C.E.

Memory | 🍓❄️🦕 Kim Byeongkwan x Reader + Park Junhee x Reader (University AU) [Blurb]

Ateez

Only One | 🍓❄️❄️❄️🍳🦕 CEO!Choi San x Reader

BigBang

It’s An Act [WBU I] | ❄️ Choi Seunghyun (TOP) x Reader

Smoke | 🍓🤸‍♀️ Choi Seunghyun (TOP) x Reader

BTS

Runaway | 🍓❄️🏩 Mafia!Kim Seokjin (Jin) x Reader (Mafia AU) Preview 1 2 3 4 x

Mah Boyfriend | 🍓🍓🤸‍♀️🦕 Jung Jungkook x Idol!Reader

BTOB

Hidden Heart | 🍓🍓🍓🤸‍♀️🚀🍳 Lee Minhyuk (HUTA) x Idol!Reader [Headcanon]

Day6

A University Dilemma | 🤸‍♀️ Kang Younghyun (Young-K) x Reader (Univeristy AU)

What A Joke | ❄️ Kang Younghyun (Young K) x Reader + Park Jaehyung x Reader (University AU) [Blurb]

So... Haha... I Like You | 🍓🦕 Park Jaehyung x Reader (Fake Dating AU)

EXO

Wheel Of Fortune | 🍓🍳🚀 Park Chanyeol x Reader [Headcanon]

Welcome To The Jungle | 🚀🚀🚀🏩 Park Chanyeol & Oh Sehun (Jungle AU)

Maybe We Still Have A Shot [WBU III] | 🍓🍓🏩 CatHybid!Oh Sehun x Reader (University AU)

Unrequited Attraction | 🚧🏩🍳🦕 Mafia!Kim Jongdae (Chen) x Retail Worker!Reader

Color Palette | 🍓 Byun Baekhyun x Reader [Blurb]

Brown Leaves | 🍓 Kim Jongin (Kai) x Reader (University AU)

GOT7

One Million In One Day | 🍓🍓❄️❄️🍳 Sugar Daddy!Jackson Wang x Reader Preview ~ Alternate Moodboard ~ Moodboard Teaser 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Car Rides | 🍓 Jackson Wang x Reader [Blurb]

Juice Box | 🍓🚀🏩🦕 Kunpimook Bhuwakul Bambam x Reader [Blurb] (Pre-Schooler AU)

Somewhere In Between | ❄️❄️Civil Engineer!Park Jinyoung x Reader + Architect!Henry Lau x Reader

Trading Secrets | 🍓🍓 Kim Yugyeom x WangSis!Reader

JYJ

Winning Losses | ❄️ Kim Jaejoong x Idol!Reader

Monsta X

Introspect | 🍓🤸‍♀️ Lee Jooheon x Reader [Blurb]

Letting Off Steam | 🤸‍♀️ Lee Hoseok (Wonho) x ArtStudent!Reader (University AU)

NCT

Seventeen

December Dates | 🍓🚀 bf!Seventeen x Reader [Headcanon]

The Stroke Of Midnight | 🍓❄️🏩🦕 Mafia!Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Reader

Here's My Problem: I Can't Get You Out Of My Head | ❄️❄️❄️🎩🎩🎩🏩🍳🦕 Detective!Jeon Wonwoo x Actress!Reader

10 Ways To Get Over Gyu | 🍓❄️❄️❄️🍳🍳🦕 Kim Mingyu x Reader + others (Childhood AU)

Half Of My Heart | 🍓❄️🤸‍♀️🍳 Kim Mingyu x Reader + Jeon Wonwoo x Reader (CEO AU)

On A Thread | ❄️❄️ CEO!Joshua Hong (Hong Jisoo) x Nurse!Reader

SF9

A Final Offering | 🍓🍓❄️🏩🦕 Deity!Kim Inseong & Child!Reader + Baek Juho (Zuho) x Mom

What Does It Mean? | 🍓❄️🤸‍♀️ Kim Inseong x Reader + Lee Jaeyoon x Reader (University AU)

16th Floor | 🍓🤸‍♀️ Kim Seokwoo (Rowoon) x Reader (Office AU)

SHINee

Understand This |❄️ Choi Minho x Reader I Don’t Understand [Understand This II] | ❄️ Choi Minho x Reader

It’s All A Big Joke [WBU II] | ❄️ Lee Taemin x Reader

Th-that’s Not | ❄️❄️🚧🦕 Lee Taemin x Reader Regrets [Th-that’s Not II] | ❄️ Lee Taemin x Reader

Angel Bride | ❄️🚧🏩🦕 Pirate!Lee Taemin x Reader

Noona, You're So Pretty | 🍓 Lee Taemin x Noona!Reader

Stray Kids

Professional Boundaries | 🍓❄️🚧🦕 CEO!Bang Chan x Pre-School Teacher!Reader + CEO!Hwang Hyunjin x Pre-School Teacher!Reader 1 2 3 4

Bootylicious | 🍓🚀 Bang Chan x Idol!Reader

Super Junior

The Soup | 🍓🍓🚀🚀 SuJu x SuJu Maknae!Reader [Headcanon]

Secrets Of A Maknae | 🍓🚀🚀 Kim Heechul x SuJuMaknae!Reader

The Boyz

Gentle With Me | 🍓🍓🤸‍♀️ Lee Sangyeon x Reader

TVXQ!

Pitter-Patter | 🍓 Jung Yunho (U-Know) x Reader (Pre-School Teacher AU)

The Art Of Deception | ❄️🎩🏩 Shim Changmin x Reader (Secret Agent/Spy AU)

TXT

Forget About It | 🍓❄️🤸‍♀️🍳🦕 Choi Soobin x Reader (University AU)

WINNER

I’m Not Playing | 🍓❄️❄️ Gangster!Song Minho (Mino) x Reader 1 2 3

#masterlist #kpop masterlist

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steddiebang · 11 months

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Steddie Bigbang Weekly Round-up: November 1 - November 4

Remember Me, Love (when I'm reborn) Author: @stevebckley and on twitter / Artist: @fancycheliniarts and on twitter Steve Harrington was born an Alpha. Everyone in his life had expected him to be an Alpha so they weren't surprised

Everyone except himself.

After over two years of saving every spare dollar, Steve is finally ready to take the final leap to transition from the Alpha he appears to be, to the Omega he’s always known he is. When the clinic pairs him with Eddie Munson as the Alpha that is meant to help guide him through his transition, it only takes one meeting for Steve to realize that he may not want to let go of Eddie when it’s all over.

The Baby Project Author: miraculousmultifan / Artist: @danadaria. Steve turned around with a grin and propped his elbows up on Munson's desk. Then, before he could really think about the words coming out of his mouth, he said, “Guess that makes us married then, huh darling?”

Munson, of course, stared back at him blankly, but instead of backtracking or something, Steve batted his eyelashes for good measure, really hamming it up.

Munson blinked at him once. Then twice. Then he raised an eyebrow and said, deadpan, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

In the last month and a half of Steve's senior year, he gets paired up with Eddie Munson for the final project in Mrs. O'Donnell's Home Economics class. The assignment? To take care of a fake baby for four weeks. For some reason, Steve finds himself surprisingly excited. Eddie, not so much.

I Wanna Be Adored Author: @StrangerThings1975 / @strngrthngs1975 (twitter) / StrangerThings1975(ao3) / Artist: gimmekaseddie (twitter) / @gimmedemosteve (tumblr) Eddie thinks it would be cool to add a fake demon summoning ritual into his song lyrics. He thinks it’s even cooler when the summoning actually works... eventually. At first, though, he’s just wondering what the hell Steve Harrington is doing at his door.

“What is it exactly that you want, Eddie? What are your deepest desires?”

And they thought he was the freak?

“Dude.” Eddie threw him a look. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I know one of them.”

“Oh, and what would that be?” He couldn’t resist taking the bait.

trouble’s always gonna find you, baby (but so am i) Author: tumblr strangersatellites / twitter strngrsatellite / Artist: tumblr becomingfoxes / twitter becomingfoxes / Artist: tumblr amethyst-crowns / twitter amethystcrowns Steve Harrington has spent the better part of the last five years knocking out hit after hit for the Assassin’s Guild and becoming one of the most lethal agents in the business. After a series of unprecedented, wildly successful cases across the country, his boss pulls him off the active case roster for eight months. He’s been keeping tabs on the Chicago Syndicate for years and has finally deemed Steve ready to take out their leader, The Sandman.

The only problem is that undercover agents have been able to turn up little to no information regarding The Sandman’s identity. The only information the Guild has been able to dredge up is the name of one of their business fronts: a sophisticated private nightclub called Hellfire, and the name of its director, Syndicate member Eddie Munson.

or: Eddie is a low ranking member of the mafia and Steve is the assassin hired to kill his boss.

(i fear) for what tomorrow brings Author: eiqhties (tumblr / AO3) / Artist: sullymygoodname (tumblr / AO3) Since Starcourt, Steve and Eddie have been meeting (and falling in love) secretly. Until - frustrated by Steve’s secrecy - Eddie ended things between them. Steve doesn’t cope well. He’s been having nightmares, nosebleeds, and painful headaches.

Everything is made much worse after Chrissy Cunningham dies in Eddie’s trailer. Steve is forced to watch as Eddie becomes involved in everything Steve tried so hard to protect him from.

Or: Steve Harrington’s No Good, Very Bad, Awful Month.

nobody rules these streets at night like me Author: maxinemaxmayfield [tumblr / ao3] / Artist: maikaartwork [tumblr / twitter] Eddie Munson has never stayed in one place for long.

When his mom disappears for the last time and his dad goes to jail, he has no other family to turn to. He spends his teenage years moving through the foster system, making friends and then losing them just as quickly. In the end, there’s never any reason to stay.

After he runs away from his fifth foster home, he finds his way to Hawkins, Indiana and for the first time, finds a reason to stay.

At the Start of the End of the World Author: InsaneJuliann /marvelingjules / Artist: mc-i-r Eddie survived the Demobats (if only barely), Max is in a coma, and the Upside Down is seeping slowly into Hawkins. Steve’s doing what he can, looking out for the people he cares about - but who takes care of him? Eddie, who’s cleared of murder charges but only technically, figures he’s got the time and the interest in taking that job on. And maybe, there’s more to the friendship growing between them than just Platonic feelings. But as the Upside Down grows stronger in Hawkins, becoming harder to ignore, and old enemies and allies make themselves known, Steve and Eddie’s growing feelings for each other may have to wait - indefinitely.

An Act of Grace Author: missberrycake / @daysarestranger / Artist: @bienmoreau / Podficcer: singinginmay / @daysarestranger On the morning after Broughton Hall’s annual summer fête, the body of a local Baron’s son was found on the grounds of the estate, as lifeless and cold as the morning was warm. Having spent the summer together, member of the household staff Edward Munson was the first to be suspected. As for the Baron’s son, perhaps there was more to him than the Baron would have society believe.

Decades later, Max Mayfield comes across the murder of Steven Harrington while researching topics for the second season of her hit true crime podcast. Along with her some-time engineer and full-time ex-boyfriend, Lucas, Max uncovers a story of two people that, entwined in secrecy and truths left unspoken, reaches out across history.

Two Truths and a Lie About Steve Harrington Author: endzela [ao3] / Artist: singinginmay [ao3] Steve is desperate to find a date for his high school reunion, and his best friend Eddie volunteers to pretend to be his boyfriend. What Eddie doesn’t know, however, is that Steve has had a crush on him ever since they became friends in college, and although Steve is not planning on letting him find out about it now, spending a week together in the same room might make things difficult. Especially since Eddie keeps flirting with him at every chance he gets.

As the poets say Author: ChristinMKay / @transmascsteveharrington / Artist: @quokkafoxtrot / Artist: riddletalks Eddie loathes the idea of soulmates. The words his soulmate will say the moment they realize they are in love with him sit heavy on his wrist. Heavy like a burden, like a cursed prophet, harbinger of death. Others cry tears of joy when they get their words, Eddie had cried tears of anxiety. The dark letters on his wrist read, “Dustin died.” On the other side of town and yet worlds apart from Eddie, Steve loathes the words on his wrist just as much. Not because he doesn’t want a soulmate. No, he longs for them every day. And every day is a painful reminder that he hasn’t found them yet when someone randomly calls out his words. The letters on his wrist simply say, “Hey Steve.”

tin roof rusted Author: @bdelaney_ao3 [twitter] [ao3] / Artist: @themeanderingty /. Artist: @cemeterylight / @cemeterylights Steve had always been someone who thinks of sex as something that was shared between people, never something that could be just for himself. After coming to terms with his sexuality, Steve finally finds the nerve to visit the adult store where Nancy works only to find something so much better than a toy along the way: the owner and resident king of nerds, Eddie Munson.

22 upcoming projects to be posted next week (Nov 5 - Nov 11).

*To keep up with all the Steddie Bigbang 2023 posting, be sure to follow us @steddiebang or track tags #steddiebang23 masterposts, #steddiebang23 project promo, or #steddiebang23 upcoming projects.

#steddiebang23 #steddiebang23 weekly roundup

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ring-rong-rang-rung · 1 year

Text

It's time for posting in 2023's @tf-bigbang! Despite my fears at several points that I really had bit off more than I could chew this year, it's finished. It's the longest single piece of writing I've ever completed.

I was delighted to work with @lush-specimen as an artist, and @satellitesoundwave as a beta reader! Thank you both so much for everything you did to help this fic get off the ground successfully. I can't thank you enough here, so I'm thanking you in the AO3 notes as well.

Now, without giving away everything here on Tumblr (although it's all properly tagged on AO3), here's the basics.

RATING: Mature WARNINGS: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings MAIN PAIRING: HotLock (Hot Rod/Deadlock) ADDITIONAL TAGS: Decepticon AU, Decepticon Hot Rod, Mafia princess Hot Rod and long suffering bodyguard Deadlock SUMMARY: Hot Rod has grown up in this war knowing his place in the broader conflict. He's the son of Megatron, and heir to the Decepticon Cause. But something lurks in his past, desperate to catch up with him after his first battle. Following an attempted abduction, Megatron decides the best option is to send Hot Rod into hiding. Hot Rod is less than thrilled, as is the mech selected for this assignment. Hot Rod and Deadlock will have to learn to work together and coexist for their own survival, while the Autobots try to find Hot Rod to reveal secrets that some hope will never be unburied. Part One of Prodigal

Chapters 1-4 are up now. Chapters 5-7 will be up on September 23rd, and chapters 8-12 will be up on the 24th.

#hot rod #rodimus #rodimus prime #drift #deadlock #driftrod #hotlock #decepticon hot rod #original content #prodigal series #my fic #transformers big bang 2023 #tf big bang 2023 #tfbb 2023 #tfbb 2023 writing #tfbb writing

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lonewolflink · 4 months

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hey author! really liking WSC. I was wondering how did you get into itzy? there doesn't seem to be a lot of midzy writers, we need more like you!

hi anon! glad you're enjoying wsc :)

tbh i got into itzy sort of by chance/randomly? bit of a long/weird story lol...

i've listened to kpop on and off for a long time but never really Got Into It in a stan way (when i was in college i definitely had (and still have) a ton of blackpink on my gym playlist, and i always really liked mamamoo, but i wasn't really paying attention to kpop culture at all or any content beyond the music itself). probably the closest i ever got was bigbang, and that was only because of my massive crush on taeyang :P

i'm in the last year of my phd program right now (if i'm able to finish my dissertation by the end of june, i'll defend and graduate in july! dr. link!!), and from what i saw in my time in grad school i knew the last year basically drove every phd student completely insane.

instead of trying to curb that insanity by becoming a mildly functional alcoholic or smoking too much weed i basically decided i'd funnel that insanity into FINALLY trying to understand kpop beyond casually listening to it, like understand the culture and the standom and the whole thing.

i knew i needed to pick a group to stan in order to do that, and i didn't want it to be blackpink even though i like them, since they release music so rarely (lol). so i was like ok you know what i haven't really listened to any kpop after 3rd gen. lemme see what 4th gen has to offer!

none of the 4th gen boy groups really caught my interest in a serious way (though i do really like some songs by stray kids and enhypen), so i turned to 4th gen gg. and like. holy shit 4th gen is literally the girl group golden age???

i was sort of listening around to some of the different 4th gen gg and really enjoying them, trying to find the right one for me, and then itzy's none of my business mv came up on my recommended on youtube, and i'd seen their name around. i clicked and...well. i was hooked.

i watched a bunch of the classic mvs (dalla dalla, wannabe, mafia), that one clip of lia singing can't take my eyes off of you, and like one compilation of OT5 being silly and chaotic. after that it was game over, i knew i'd found my group.

(and also i kinda love an underdog story; i think itzy's supposed "fall off" has been greatly exaggerated and with the overhaul of div 2 employees (...hopefully the marketing team) i am curious to see if they can recapture the 4th gen gg crown)

i wasn't at all expecting to write fic, tbh, especially not for a kpop group! i've actually never done it before, except maybe once when i was 13 and then immediately regretted it because i was bad at it lol. but in one of the most stressful years of my life, it became a really nice creative outlet for me, especially because i don't really have anyone irl to talk to when it comes to kpop and itzy.

in general, i've found midzys to be such a warm, welcoming group, at least here on tumblr and in the comment section on AO3 (i try to stay off twitter as much as possible).

and i didn't realize initially when i first stanned itzy, but turns out the whole jyp fam is really awesome! obviously the company has its issues, like any kpop company, but in general the jyp Vibes are really fun, and i've enjoyed listening more and learning about twice, skz, nmixx, etc.!

since my original goal (i guess?) was to understand the world of kpop, itzy ended up being the perfect group because, well. they have done almost every sub-genre of kpop at some point. they really can do it all! and as a group they've been on top, they've had their name raked through the mud, they've had a member on hiatus (...literally announced right after i decided to stan, RIP), been in a big transition period...

yeah man idk. it's been so interesting and fun to follow their journey, learn a lot about the kpop machine, do some really fun creative writing, give in to the insanity of being a stan, and listen to some really great music along the way. :)

anyway that's how we got here! sorry for the long-winded answer hahaha i guess i could've just said "last year of my phd program, went insane, instead of becoming addicted to drugs or alcohol i decided to become a kpop addict and my drug of choice is itzy" :P

#anon #asks #:)

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letmeoutofthebasementt · 4 months

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tbh i always thought san got the short end of the stick in terms of how ppl either treated him (due to him literally being a sweetheart) the way ppl said he wouldnt debut due to being too nice or reacted to him if it was in a negative way like he seemed to have received much critique or often backlash for seemingly normal things like him having more attention than another member and so on yet i dont think thats the case with this group. also actor!san would send me to my grave like imagine him in a non fluffy kdrama... like give him mafia drama or some peaky blinders type shit he would suit the line of "are you making fun of my brother?" so well. rip me once again. pls kq make badboy san real. hes already half way there.

i think for ateez they shine equally bc neither members are trying to outdo each other and i dont even have a bias bc theyre all so different and theres smth i love abt each one of them so it hard to pick a bias in this group. they not long been a group compared to skz who habe been a group for much longer time period so they got imho eons of time to achieve full potential if only kq werent so stuck up their own arse about things. like the killing part video yeosang didnt get much singing like kq what the hell was that about? i still think they wouldve suited yg more so bc hes familiar at dealing with bgs like ateez who are bit more on the wild side of things they wouldve got blackpink star treatment for everything but idk im not particularly fond of the way kq goes abt things. they just seem to restrict certain members from certain opportunities. if i read anymore nonsense about kq not mistreating but mismanaging this group imma teleport my arse to korea and manage them myself bc they deserve so much success they really do.

even jongho stands out in his own way even if he dont realise it and mingi and fuck it all of them stand out tbh. kqqqqqqqqqqqq sucks tho, my arse will drag them to hell and back @ kq say hi to satan for me.

Don’t know if I agree with the YG thing. Half because I have an inherent dislike for YG (the company) and I’m not into any of their groups (Other than BigBang -Seungri way back when (TOP and Gdragon still have my heart though)) but I’m not going to get into that because I could go on a ten hour rant just about YG Entertainment, and half because KQ is good at letting Ateez…Be Ateez? If that makes sense? Like they can have fun and you can tell they have very good relationships with their staff and editors. I do agree the managing could be better but at the same time they’re a smaller company so they probably don’t really have the best managers to begin with? I have nothing against KQ personally other than the fact that they mismanage the group. Though at the same time, they’re also a smaller company. They might not be able to get the group those same benefits and things that other groups seem to get since most popular group except KIOF and G-Idle are part of the big three companies + HYBE

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theharrowing · 1 year

Note

I’ll definitely check it out! I need to make an updated playlist anyway because I made a new one without Astro after what happened with Moonbin. I sort of lost it for a while because they were my comfort group 😪. I could deal with the weed scandal because I don’t really care about that at all. I don’t do it but I really don’t give a shit if other people do (druggie parents do that to you 😪🤷🏻‍♀️), but he got arrested for fucking with his military service, like an idiot. He’s an American citizen so I’m not even sure why he did one.

I go by Brea! I mean, I don’t really go by a nickname when I’m writing and stuff, but it’s what my friends call me! I love Big Bang! They were my start in Kpop! Minus that brief stint with SS501 after I watched Boys Over Flowers and googled my favorite character. GD was my first Kpop concert back in 2017/2018 (I can’t remember the exact year, just that it was right before his military service after his last album).

Here is my current playlist if you wanna check it! It’s a pretty standard mix because I’m too much of a multi Stan for my own good 😂

-Brea

BREA, very lovely name!!! 💜

it makes sense that you might have to distance yourself from artists who pass. i definitely understand. it's very sad to lose someone you care about, even when it's someone you haven't met!!! i personally do not give a shit about drug scandals. i do drugs lmao. i don't believe that artists have to be pure, but i am also american and i know that culturally, we are a little different about some things (although plenty of amerians are still facing sentences on weed charges, but that's also mostly on racism and classism. it's an entirely different can of worms.)

i never actually got into bigbang because of the burning sun scandal, but i have killed seungri in my mafia fic lolol. but there were some songs back in 2016 that i would put on at parties because they were fun. i think bang bang bang and fantastic baby. i wasn't really into kpop at the time, and i wish i had gotten into bigbang then, to get into bts during the wings era. what can ya do haha.

i'll check out the playlist!!! 🥰 thanks for the link!!!

#jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae #darling brea 💜#you've got mail 💌

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winches-ter · 7 years

Text

Dagger (part 2)

AU: Mafia

POV: Reader

Rating: PG-13 (For the violence and occasional language)

Pairings: A wee bit of Reader X Seungri, and that subtle GDYB.

Summary: As the sister of the leader of the most dangerous gang in Seoul, you’ve done a pretty amazing job at maintaining a low profile, and not letting anyone know what family you belong to. Your life is normal, despite your brother’s intimidating, yet respected, image. But what the people don’t know, is that you’re Big Bang’s secret weapon, their Trump Card.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4(end)

“It was about you. He thinks this is too dangerous for you. He asked me to tell you to quit.”

Someone hit me with a bag full of bricks.

No, I thought, that would hurt less.

If I had been told Jiyong and Youngbae were about to get married, adopt three children and name them after different types of pasta, that would be more believable. “I have been with you people since before I could even say my own name. It’s where I belong, oppa. I don’t do anything else. I don’t want to do anything else.” I said, coming to a standstill.

“You need to understand, y/n, none of us wanted this life thrust upon you. All we want to do is keep you safe. And what we do, it is as far from safe as is possible to be. If anything were to happen to you, do you think I would be able to live with myself, knowing that it was all because of me? That it was my fault I could not protect my own baby sister? Even after I was warned so many times, even when I almost saw you die today?”

I could understand. I did understand. But he had to understand I had a choice too. For eighteen years this man had worked tooth and nail, not being able to afford three square meals for himself, but making sure I never went to bed hungry. I was his responsibility. And now that I could, I wanted to repay him. Even if it was with my life. I wanted to watch his back, make sure he returned home every night, and bury anyone who dared to ruin what he created with his blood and sweat.

“Do I not get a say in my own life then? I need to make decisions on my own now. I’m not your six year old in pigtails anymore. Why can’t you see that?” I really did not mean to yell, or sound ungrateful, but that, somehow, was how things turned out.

“I suppose I should. I’m sorry for trying to do the right thing. I’m sorry for trying to protect you.” The pain in his eyes killed me over and over again. He just walked on, without a word, crestfallen.

I wanted to go after him, but something held me back. It took some time to register it was not my feelings, but was indeed a person, holding my arm.

“What the hell? Let go of me.”

The person, who was being referred to as ‘perv’ inside my head, showed no intentions of doing that.

“Right. Now. While I’m still asking nicely.”

“Well I’ll treat you right, love.” He sounded positively drunk. His breath only confirmed the same. “Don’t bother running after that coward of a man anymore, who doesn’t even know what he’s leaving behind. I know what girls like you want. And I’ll make sure you get what you des-” He was cut off by a punch landing square on his nose, causing blood to drip down.

Pulling me behind him, Jiyong growled, “If you so much as breathe within a thousand miles of my sister again, I will slice you into so many pieces, they will have a lot of trouble burying your useless ass.”

“Think you’re so tough, huh?” The guy said, wiping the last of blood from his face, visibly offended. “Hey guys, I think we need to teach this stiff douchebag and his little bitch here some really solid lessons.”

“I’m going to do you a favour and tell you to back the fuck off before you and your peasants have to be scraped off the floor in the aftermath.”

“You son of a bitch-” He cursed and tried to punch Jiyong, who stealthily dodged it, caught a hold of the guy’s hand, stretched it out, so they looked more like a couple doing salsa than two extremely angsty dudes fighting for dominance, and used his elbow to hit the back of the perv’s head repeatedly.

Meanwhile two men, presumably the ‘guys’ ganged up on me, as I backed away from Jiyong. “Well this is hardly fair gentlemen.” I said, sarcastically. “An exhausted girl who is not in the mood for your bullshit, versus two scrawny rodents hell-bent upon making her loose her temper. The odds seem a bit off to me.”

“Shut up, bitch. You’re only making it more difficult for you.” One of them said as both the men lunged at me at the same time.

Ducking out from their reach, I grabbed both their wrists in the process, and exactly as Daesung had taught, turned suddenly, jerking their arms, then folded them against their backs, inviting gasps of pains from both.

“I told you, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit” I say as I kick the first one from behind, then the next making them fall on their knees. Before they had the time to comprehend what their free hands were going to do, I elbowed one of them from the back, with enough force to knock him unconscious, strong enough to send jitters up my arm, and then kicked the other one to the floor and again knocked the living daylights out of him; with the heel of my foot, gently caressing his face.

When I turned around Jiyong was already done with the guy who was bundled up on the ground still mumbling curses at both of us. He still looked extremely hurt from our argument earlier, and something in me broke.

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, as tears began to well up in my eyes. “All you’ve ever done is risk your own life to keep me safe, and I am so, so grateful for that. I wanted to be with you guys, not for adrenaline kicks to fulfill my wild teenage fantasies of punching assholes into the sunset, but so I could maybe try to do the same for you, as you have done for me. Watch your back, make sure you don’t die doing something stupid like taunting people with grenade launchers aimed at you, maybe also make sure you came back every day. Take care of you, in the only way that I know.”

Jiyong simply walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my whimpering body. In an instant I did the same, as if clinging onto him for dear life. As my head rested on his shoulder, his hands gently played with my hair. There was a comfortable silence, interrupted only when we heard one of the guys that I had knocked down slowly come to his senses. We ran then. Not because we couldn’t take them in a fight again, hell, we would still emerge victorious if they called in multiple reinforcements. But, because none of us wanted to ruin the effects of the moment that had just passed.

As we came to a stop in front of our house, out of breath and pumped on adrenaline, one of the guards opened the door before we even reached in and both of us bowed to thank him. I was about to make my way up the stairs when Jiyong half whispered half yelled, “Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Puzzled, I turned around to see him; he looked like he had committed the most heinous crime in the history of heinous crimes, and was severely regretting it. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone like that. That filthy guy and his minions could’ve done anything to you, and again, it would have been my fault. I’m so so sorry, y/n, I promise, I’ll never leave you alone like that again. Never.”

It was my turn to initiate The Hug, and so I did.

“It was mostly my fault, you know. I should have caught up to you. If not that, then at least I should have been the one to punch his nose off his face. I should’ve done something, but I dint. Let’s call it even.”

“You know,” He said, tightening his hold on me, “When I say ‘never’ I also mean the times when I’m out kicking ass. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

“So, I’m not being shoved out of your super cool ninja clan then, G Dragon-sama?”

He just laughed and breathed a light no somewhere in between. “Now go to bed, Naruto, you have school tomorrow.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

The next day Jiyong and Youngbae had a very heated discussion about me and what’s best for me and eventually, both of them decided it was best indeed, that I do stay with them, lest I shall be harmed in their prolonged periods of absence.

While they were in there, discussing my future, I was in the kitchen, making a very healthy double cheese chicken lasagna for my hungry self. As I was too busy drooling over the cheese that was bubbling in the oven, my surroundings became void and all that mattered anymore was the wall of time that stood between the food and my esophagus.

Out of nowhere, two fingers pressed down on either side of my waist, making me jump up in surprise. What was more embarrassing was the inhuman sound I made in the said process. Taking the first thing I found on the shelf I turned towards the attacker in a poise of self-defence.

“Whoa, y/n, you’re going to decapitate someone with that lethal spatula, girl.”

“Seungri? Dude, I would actually have decapitated you. Don’t sneak up on me like that. I have killer reflexes, you know.” I smirk.

“I’d love to put that to test someday. Let’s see, next weekend? My place?”

“Did you think that was smooth, Lee Seunghyun?”

“Is that a no?”

“Do you like lasagna?”

“What?”

“Yes. It’s a yes. Now, would you like to have lasagna? It’s almost done.” Talking about relationship stuff made me uncomfortable, and so, in the worst, most weird way that I could, I changed the topic.

“Some other time, princess. I need to go meet your brother first.”

“Cool. More for me then.” Princess? What?

“Watch the calories though.”

“Watch the calories though.” I mimic in a mocking tone as he smirks and walks away.

What a beautiful pain in the ass.

By the time the guys were done, it was evening already, and I did not realize that I had fallen asleep on the kitchen counter. Only managing to eat half the lasagna before my screwed up sleep schedule demanded to be acknowledged.

I woke up to the sound of Jiyong munching down the lasagna, sitting across from me on the counter.

“So Seungri asked you out?” He said, when he realized I had woken up.

“What? How do you know?”

“He called me this morning to ‘confess’ his weird feelings for you. He dint want to do it behind my back.”

“And you agreed?” I ask, visibly taken aback.

“Well, might as well. He knows what’s going to happen if he fucks it up.”

I snorted, and took a bite out of the lasagna as well.

“How did you make this?” He asked, making a disgusted face, “It tastes like damp socks.”

“It definitely does not. It’s better than what that good for nothing girlfriend of yours used to make.”

“Oh but she was good for something...” He says looking up at the ceiling, as if he was nostalgic. A smug smile on his face.

“You’re disgusting Kwon Jiyong.” I say, hitting his shoulder lightly. “Also, let me sleep. Go away. Shoo. Do whatever deep dark stuff you do locked away in your deep dark room.”

“No, y/n, listen to me. This is important. It’s about that gang that’s after us.” He said, in a serious tone, which indicated we were down to business. “They’re called ‘death stroke’. Almost ten years ago, they were our biggest rivals, when dad’s company was about to go bankrupt and I had just ascended in his place. But, we beat him. After which they went underground. Now, I believe it was because they could not bear being defeated by a sexy eighteen year old, but according to Seunghyun hyung they were just ‘laying low’. Now that they believe it is us who screwed them over, their leader is blinded by revenge to extract vengeance from my majestic self. Even if we tell him it wasn’t us, he won’t believe it because, despite what TOP hyung says, he hates my guts. Now we’ve got to be careful, because who knows how many upgrades he has gone through over the years.”

“Upgrades? Oppa, this isn’t a video game villain.”

“Sister, he is called Midnight.”

“Ok first of all, I want that title. Second, why was this guy such a big rival of dad’s company?”

“Because apparently he had some beef with dad. He’s the reason the company fell in the first place.”

“Then let’s kill this bitch.”

Over the years, I always wanted to know why such a big company had reached such a low within almost no time. Who was the catalyst that favoured this downfall? I never asked my brother, because I was afraid he’d blame himself for it. But now that the son of a bitch had a face, and not to mention a cool ‘stage name’ that I required, I wanted nothing more than to paint his walls in deep, permanent red.

Over the course of the next few days, the guys all did their digging on this ‘Midnight’ and his ‘death stroke’, while I doodled in the back of my notebooks because whatever the teachers were saying in classes, was either never going to help me, or was just plain boring. As it is I was able to maintain good grades and an average image in class, so I could afford to doodle. I had earned the right to doodle. And so, I shamelessly doodled.

Fridays were the worst. Teachers gave extra homework, we had PE as the last period, and the instructor loathed my mere existence. Also, you never knew when the principle would come over and hand you more things to do, because of which, more often than not, we had to stay back after school hours.

This time, we were supposed to make paper cut outs for the first graders’ classrooms because they had a ‘Bring your mother to school’ day. I always hated these days, and anything to do with them.

“Never have I ever seen someone cut up golden stars with that much hatred in their eyes. You ok y/n?” My best friend asked me.

“Yeah well, when you have been personally victimized by your PE Instructor and then have a ‘decorate-a-classroom-for-mothers’ shoved in your face like a big ‘fuck you, you motherless git’, it sort of sucks the fun out of your peachy day.”

“Whoa slow down there sunshine. Here, have some chocolate.” She said, handing me a Hershey’s Kiss.

“Never leave me girl. What would I do without you?”

“Curl up in the fetal position and sob endlessly.” She said indifferently, as she pulled out a chocolate for her own self and ate it.

We finished the work sooner than I expected.

“A hundred starts and a double hundred chocolates later, the salty bitches finally emerge victorious!” I say, stretching my arms and got up.

“Speak for yourself, Cinderella. I happen to be a sweeter bitch.”

Both of us made out way out. Glad, the headache assigned to us was over. There were people in the class who looked at us with envy, and that made leaving even more satisfying.

We were out the school’s gate when it suddenly struck me, “Oh! I almost forgot, Seungri asked me out.”

“WHAT!! And I’m hearing about this NOW?! I feel betrayed. Did you find someone else to tell this to? *gasp* Are you CHEATING ON ME?”

“Calm down, you’re going to go into cardiac arrest. Who else would accept this eternal void of darkness except for you? I’ll tell you about it later, I want to go home right now, and sleep in a tub and hopefully drown in there for a couple of days.”

“Gimme a call when you come back from the dead, or if you die for good, ask Jiyong oppa to do it. We’ll support each other through the tough time. Then get married and name our firstborn after you.”

“Gross. Officially too gross. Oh the mental image. That’s it I’ve been scarred for life. I’m going to leave and pretend this never happened.” With that I turned, and walked away, already dreaming about essential oils soaking away all the torture I valiantly withstood today. And honestly, my body ached from head to toe, fingers about to spasm because of constant use of scissors, legs screaming out in protest, my eyes watering from the dire need for sleep. I was literally a wreck.

The sky was a dull yellow grey, clouds gradually blanketing all the blue and the setting sun not making any attempts to put up a fight either. There was a cool wind sweeping the streets, and weather like this meant a storm was on its way. A gentle breeze hit me, making me uneasy to the core. Ever since I was a little girl, I had noticed, on days like this, something always went wrong. And somewhere inside, that little girl wanted nothing more than to go cuddle up inside Jiyong’s blankets, because she was scared to be left alone.

Without second thoughts, I broke into a run as soon as I saw my house up ahead. I desperately wanted to get away from the rumbling clouds, slowly setting the stage for something more terrible to take over.

As soon I made it through the door, I took out my phone and called my brother.

“Hello?”

“Oppa?” I gasped, too tired to hide the nervousness in my voice, still breathless from the unnecessary running.

“Oppa where-” I was cut off as a large hand blocked my mouth. I wanted to retaliate, to protest, but my body refused to respond. Someone hit me on the back of my head, and I fell, barely conscious. I could feel hot blood drip down my head, as I made out a figure bending down to pick up my phone.

“G-Dragon, It’s been a while. I hope you haven’t forgotten me? Not that it matters right now. You see, I have something you want, and you have something I want. What do you say we discuss it over tea sometime? If not, then forget about seeing this little cheesecake again. I can’t say would mind that. I can imagine a few things I could do with her. When you make up your mind, call me on this number.”

If Jiyong argued, threatened or even yelled at the man, I couldn’t make out. I knew I had to do something to save myself, and I had to do it fast.

I tried to get up from the floor, but my arms betrayed me. And I fell with a thud that bounced off the walls and drew all the attention towards me.

“Knock that bitch out for the love of God. And put her in the car.”

The last thing I heard was Jiyong’s muffled cry, seethed with pain and anger, then it all went dark.

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severetimetravelnerd · 4 years

Text

Hatred and Love(ft. G Dragon) Mafia AU

Part 1

When you get abducted, your captor is someone you would never have expected.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Okay, so this is a mafia AU. It has appearances from Daesung, Taeyang, TOP, Mino and Hanbin. It will also feature EXO’s Kai in the later chapters.

Warnings: Violence, Death(not main character), Eventual smut, Sexual abuse, Abduction, Guns and Knives

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Jiyong. G Dragon. GD. The same person. Such drastically different sides. A living legend. A pathbreaker in kpop. A trendsetter in fashion. Just all round incredible. For more reasons than one. The man had a side job. He was the head of a mafia gang. It was a well-kept secret, but there was no denying that Jiyong, the mafia boss, was a terrifying man. He had absolutely no emotion when it came to running the gang, and that’s what made him terrifying. There was no appeal either his gang members could give him, or his victims could give him that would work, because he would never empathise with them. The whole image of Jiyong being a shy, cute guy was a clever front for his side business. Whatever deals he made, he never went back on, so he quickly became the best in the business. It wasn’t for nothing that he became the richest kpop star, you know.

He was sitting in his room, leaning back and just about to close his eyes when he got a call.

“Is this Mr.Jiyong?”

With his eyes still closed, Jiyong responded.

“And if this is him, what do you need?”

This rather frantic sounding voice replied saying,

“I have a job for you. I need you to abduct someone.”

Jiyong finally opened his eyes. So this was a serious call after all. Jiyong’s tone icy as ever, he asked,

“Are you aware of my rates?”

The same frantic voice answered, sounding a little irritated.

“I’ll give you as much money as you want. I don’t care about the cost. Just get the job done.”

Jiyong started to get annoyed. Was this client implying he wouldn’t be able to get the job done? Jiyong didn’t bother reassuring him, because Jiyong never reassured people. He simply said,

“Anything else you want me to do?”

The man’s voice dropped.

“Abduct her. Torture her. Send a video to her father. I need him to sign some papers, and he keeps refusing. He won’t refuse if his daughter’s life is on the line. If he still doesn’t sign,”

he paused,

“kill her.”

Jiyong nodded, jotting down the details. This was standard stuff. Must be some business partner’s daughter. This client didn’t sound like it was his first time asking the mafia for something. Maybe this girl was also part of a mafia family. The client sighed.

“I wouldn’t have gone this far if my brother had just signed the damn papers.”

Jiyong froze. Even to a beast like him, family was family. There were some of his family and friends he would do anything for. He felt disgusted for a second, but shook it off. Business was business.

“Okay, we will be able to do that. Send me her details and where to find her.”

You had only gotten to Korea a few months ago, barely settling into your new job. You were struggling a little with the new place and the new culture, but you were enjoying the freedom from your family. At home, things were always complicated. Your father and his brothers were constantly fighting over money and property, and somehow, being around that negative environment was never good for you. You knew your uncles. You knew they were in the wrong. You knew how they were constantly coercing people and blackmailing people. You knew how they constantly cheated people. You knew how they ill-treated your grandparents. You knew your father was fighting for the right thing, but it was exhausting to be around. Which is why when you got a new job in Seoul as a PR rep for a company, you jumped at the chance to go. Your father was very worried about sending you away, but you never fully understood the worry, confident that you’d be fine in a new place. As you sat in the trunk of a car, gagged, cuffed and blindfolded, you finally understood why he was worried.

When they finally removed the cover off your head, you were sitting, tied to a chair, in the middle of a dimly lit, crowded room. There was a man sitting a few feet across from you, legs crossed and staring at you. As you blinked to adjust to the light, you slowly started to make out the features of his face. You recognised those features. You were a fan, or at least, you used to be. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your mouth when you saw him. Some of his men at the back laughed when they saw that, but his expression remained unchanged. Unflinching, uncaring, intense. After that though, you clamped down on yourself. You made up your mind to refuse to speak. You father had enough and more problems on his hands. You were not going to be one of them. You were certain you’d survive this. You didn’t know why you had that implicit faith, but you just did. You had to.

Jiyong looked at you, trying to gauge you. He was expecting more fear or even anger in your eyes, but he was not expecting a stubborn obstinacy to be there. A determination that was rare in such situations. His eyes slowly raked over the rest of you. His men and their looks, comments and whistles had already established that you were attractive, but he surprised himself when he looked at your face and found himself thinking you were stunning. He had abducted plenty of women before, and a good number of them were attractive, and he had never thought that before, but somehow, the sight of you sitting there, your hair dishevelled, your white shirt crumpled, your shorts torn and your eyes glaring at him with that insane determination did something to him. Constantly maintaining his poker face, in his low, cold voice, he said,

“Call her father.”

There was a slight pause.

“Daesung, torture her. Nothing too serious. Just enough to make her scream. Don’t touch the face though.”

He paused to smirk lightly.

“She’s a pretty thing.”

At that moment, you looked up at him and decided that you loathed the man.

Jiyong held the phone while they dialed your father’s number and Daesung stepped forward with a whip. You bit down on your lip determined not to scream. You knew they wanted to make your father hear you scream. You knew that if he heard you scream, he would go insane with worry. And so, as the first lash hit you, the pain searing through your thigh, you kept quiet, even though your body felt like it was on fire. They expected you to give in and scream with the first three lashes, but after you still hadn’t screamed with 10, they switched it up. You were crying from the pain, and your lips were bleeding from how hard you bit them, but you felt oddly exalted. You weren’t screaming. Daesung undid the ropes tying you to the chair and picked you up, and began punching you in the stomach, and although you desperately wanted it to stop, and you could feel the metallic taste of blood in your mouth, you held on, not screaming. Finally, Daesung took out a switch blade. Jiyong felt a slow sense of panic rise in him, and just as he cut the call, and said,

“Enough.”,

Daesung stabbed you in the stomach. It wasn’t too deep a cut, but as you watched the blood stain your shirt, you felt the need to laugh. Jiyong, still maintaining the poker face, said,

“Everybody out. Hanbin, Youngbae and Daesung stay.”

They, along with Mino and Seunghyun hyung, were part of Jiyong’s inner circle. They weren’t just his men. They were his friends. They were his family. They knew something was off by the way Jiyong said that. Still maintaining the poker face as the leader, Jiyong said,

“Hanbin, get the other room ready. She’ll be kept there. You will be in charge of getting her food and water. Tell the boys that no one is to touch her.”

He turned to Daesung and Youngbae.

“Put pressure on the wound and stop the bleeding. Bring her up to my room.”

And he left for his room.

Daesung helped you up while Youngbae applied pressure on the wound. You were wary of them, especially Daesung, but he was surprisingly gentle when helping you, almost apologetically. They left you in Jiyong’s room, Youngbae giving you instructions on how to stop the bleeding, and Daesung slowly whispering,

“Sorry”

before leaving. You looked around you, wincing from the pain and the smell of blood. You were just about to sit when Jiyong entered the room. He looked different. His blazer was gone and his sleeves were rolled up. He was holding a first-aid kit. He looked at you, and said,

“Strip.”

You were annoyed with the man, but you were curious. Was the same man who ordered them to torture you going to give you first-aid? In the same detached tone as him, you replied,

“Why?”

He gestured to your wound.

“That needs to be taken care of.”

You looked at him, trying to figure him out. You also had a feeling he wouldn’t answer any more questions, so you just shrugged and slipped out of your shirt. He slowly walked over to you, and started disinfecting the wound. He was being surprisingly tender. He had never done this before. This wasn’t like him. He found himself looking at the lashes and the bruises, and feeling sad, which was definitely not like Jiyong. He never sympathised with the victims. He also couldn’t look up, because already, without looking at your face, there was a slight blush across his face from seeing you like that. He dressed your wound in silence, and after dressing it, he just walked out of the room, leaving you alone there to wonder what exactly was he thinking until Hanbin came to get you.

After that, things changed a little. You were moved to a room of your own. Granted, it had no windows, and all it had in it was an old couch and a study table, but it was still an improvement. At least it had an attached bathroom. Although they kept you locked up in there, Hanbin, on Jiyong’s orders, removed your gag, blindfold and handcuffs. It was much better for you this way, and you were doing okay. Jiyong had your phone with him, and you were dependant on Hanbin for pretty much everything, but it was better. You liked Hanbin. He was a nice guy. He would talk to you and check in on you even when he didn’t have to. From talking to him, you gathered that he was a nice guy. More sensitive. Always got attached to people when he shouldn’t have. Jiyong had warned him about that countless times, but Hanbin, being the sweetheart that he is, always did anyway. It was late in the evening the next day, and you were just peacefully relaxing, when you heard someone opening the door. You knew it wasn’t Hanbin, because he always knocked, so immediately, your guard went up. It was a man you didn’t recognise. He came in and smiled at you. It was a menacing smile. It made you nervous. Trying to keep your voice steady, you said,

“What’re you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.”

His smile grew wider. He came closer to you, until his face was only a few inches away from yours. In a second, before you could even react, he caught your hands, and held them painfully tight above your head. He pushed his knee between your legs, holding your legs in a vice-grip. He leaned in, close to your ear, and said,

“Look at you. Who do you think you are, you little bitch?”

He slapped you.

“You think you’re in a position to order me around.”

He laughed.

“Well, you’re not, and all you managed to do is make me angrier.”

He pushed his lips onto yours, forcing his tongue through your lips, and running his hands all over you body, groping you. He was just about to unzip his pants, when the door slammed open. It was Jiyong. As usual, he had his poker face on, but immediately, that man dropped your hands and stepped away from you, trembling. He knew Jiyong didn’t like being disobeyed. Jiyong slowly reached for his gun. He looked at the man.

“Joongi. Stay there.”

Joongi could only nod, trembling in fear. Jiyong took out his gun and pointed it straight at your forehead. He moved closer to a shocked you. He handed you the phone and said,

“Call your father. Tell him you’re here.”

Jiyong had been bothered by how he stopped them from torturing you all day. It wasn’t like him. It was more like him to send a picture of you, all bloody and bruised to your father. He didn’t like this new found vulnerability. He didn’t like the uncertainty of emotions. He thought about it all day and finally decided to make you call your father and tell him. He had no idea why you were being so stubborn, but he was sure he could make you crack. He couldn’t afford to disappoint a client, after all. He walked down to your room, feeling oddly nervous about what he was going to do. All of that disappeared though, when he noticed your rooms was unlocked and the lock had been picked. He started to feel worry rising in him. Hanbin wasn’t careless enough to make that kind of a mistake. He walked into the room to see Joongi kiss you and grope you while you tried to fight him, but failed. Jiyong felt this anger boil in him. He had killed many people in his career, but he had never felt this intense a desire to make someone feel pain and suffer. He would deal with Joongi later. For now, he had to make you call your father. He held a gun to your head, and told you to call your father.

You were shaking from what just happened, and you were scared because of the gun to your head, but you were determined to sound normal for your father. You called him. He answered on the first ring.

“Hi Sweetheart. How are you? How is the job?”

You took a deep breath. You looked at the gun and shrugged. If it was your time to go, you would. You looked straight into Jiyong’s eyes and decided you weren’t going to give in to this kind of pressure.

“Hi Dad. Everything is okay. I’m just getting used to things here.”

And just like that, with a gun to your head, you lapsed into your normal conversation with your dad. You smiled and continued talking to your dad as usual while staring into Jiyong’s cold eyes the whole time. Your dad suddenly asked something unusual.

“So, did you get to see your favourite kpop star? That Green dragon guy?”

You smiled. Jiyong’s eyes changed slightly.

“Dad, G Dragon. Not Green dragon. And yes, I did see him.”

“Why do you sound so disappointed Darling? Not as handsome as the pictures?”

You paused for a minute. Still looking into Jiyong’s eyes, you said,

“No Dad. He’s every bit as good looking as the pictures, it’s just his personality and values. I’m disappointed.”

And something in Jiyong just went off. He grabbed the phone from you and cut the call. Within seconds, he moved his gun to Joongi’s direction and without even looking away from your eyes, shot him straight in the middle of his forehead. He grabbed your face and pulled you closer until you were only an inch away from him. Teeth gritted, he asked,

“Why’re you disappointed in me?”

Refusing to back down, you replied, with your eyes blazing.

“Because I used to like you. I used to admire you. But now, I hate you.”

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