#realizes she made Price “please fuck me” cigars

[miserycanary]

A FIXED HEART IN YOUR HAND ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶

♡⃛ ‘My Hell For Your Love’ alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: is it done? hopeless love? How Ghost is after the break-up

tags: :3.. 

Ghost swears he’s going crazy. In his eyes, the walls are dimmer and everything seems… out of place. He seems out of place. Not when you’re not there with him. “Fuck,” he grumbles, tilting his head back on the headboard of the bed you used to share with him. He knows it’s disgusting but he hasn’t had the courage to change the bedsheets since that day, too scared he’d forget how you smell. Ever since you came over for the last time to take your things, he lost everything in the apartment that reminds him of you— that reminds you guys happened. 

It seems like he’s in a worse state than he thought when even Price came up to him, asking him to hang after work shifts. Ghost knew that he was not in the best state and everyone in the base was muttering about it. Seeing as he had nothing more to lose (you were all he had), he agreed. 

The bar was filled with cigar smoke and the smell of cheap liquor. It was bustling with bodies grinding on each other everywhere. He had let himself go but his build still managed to attract stares, often getting hit on by ladies looking for someone to fix their daddy issues. And each time he turns them down until he sees a familiar figure. Like a dog, he chases someone who seems to be you but only to feel a pang of disappointment. 

The night seems to pass quickly. He’s suddenly in bed with the girl who looks like you. He knows it’s wrong to play with her, but he needs you— one way or another. It just ended up with him more frustrated. She wasn’t like you. The way she felt, her look, and her voice. Everything was so different. 

He didn’t even stay the night, unable to process the fact he laid with someone who wasn’t you. Placing some bills on the bedside table, Ghost takes one more look at her sleeping figure that paints a scowl on his face. Even the way she sleeps wasn’t like you at all. The walk back home was exhausting, with a cigar between his lips and a burden in his heart. 

His steps halted when he found himself in the familiar street of your unit. “I’m really going nuts,” he chuckled to himself, peering up to look at your unit that always had its windows open. He was about to risk it all when he heard your laughter and a voice. The sight before him made him lose it. You had a guy over. Someone who doesn’t even look like him! Ghost snaps back when he realizes he let go of his cigar. Looking down at the still burning light, he contemplated. Was it done? Were you gone from him forever? No, right? It’s a one-night stand, convinces himself.

It wasn’t a one-night stand, he realizes. Holding the wedding invitation in his hand 2 years after that. The words printed on the dedication had his stomach churning. 

‘To my old friend, Simon,

I invite you to my wedding. Thank you for being with me for many years. You have helped me become who I am today, so I would love if you’ll be there. We promised we’d be with each other during our happiest moment, right? 

All love,

Y/N’

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: the last and final part. Go read the alternative ending! Sorry if it’s rushed!!

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[redevenir]

lonely are the brave

wc : almost 3k

a/n : @exolssecretsanta​  here it is, my present for @mmmhs​, as a part of the #exolssecretsanta2020 it’s me ! your secret santa ! hopefully you’ll have a good time reading this ! Also The plot is entirely based on the movie The Spy, which is about the life of Sonja Wigert, and I strongly encourage you to read about her after you read this fic (so you won’t get spoiled) because it is incredible and she deserves to be remembered. And the title is from the 1962 Kirk Douglas movie, based on Edward Abbey’s The Brave Cowboy. It’s an excellent movie, and probably a very, very good book. The settings are very different but the title fitted too well. Merry Christmas, I wish you the very best. More importantly I think I wish for 2021 to be exactly what you need it to be.

As the entire theater bursts into applaudes, Kyungsoo thinks you might just be what he needs. Even in shades of gray on the big screen, your magnetism is undeniable. He claps a few times as you deserve it, and since his every move are being watched, it’s a quick way of expressing his satisfaction. He leaves the movie room before anyone else has stopped cheering.

***

You can’t keep your eyes off the newspaper. The head of the new Governor occupies two thirds of the front page. You sigh. It is still hard to believe the Empire has won, once again, and this war they won in two days. It’s humiliating even for you, and they haven’t reached your country yet. They didn’t defeat you. You are no soldier, you are not general. You’re not even in the war force, and the kingdom isn’t yet at war. But there is something excrutiatingly mortifying to read the news every morning, nails painted of red, and contemplating the fall of this world as a bystander. You wonder how fast they’ll take the kingdom next. Of course, it has to be their next move. Maybe they won’t even pretend to wage a war. Maybe the Queen will just bend the knee. Your hear a soft pshh when the ash of your cigar falls into your cup of tea. You hear your name, and a croissant is thrown your way.  

« So ? What do you think ? He looks weird, right ? I mean, weird for the job ? Chanyeol gently taps the face of the Governor with his own croissant. I mean, he looks all… He gesture vaguely, throwing crumbles your way. It’s always harder for him to find his words in the morning. You guess it’s because it takes him some time to be properly awake.

Intellectual ?

Yes ! He smiles but his eyes are cold and mocking. They usually come all… He tries to sit straighter and extand his shoulders to show you what he means.

Bulked up and ready to kill you with their bare hands ? His mouth full, he nods and claps his hands once in agreement. You look back at the photography. Governor Do has a stern face. Eyebrows heavy, black hair cut short, thick glasses. He does not seem very large, even in his uniform. This one, you begin, as Chanyeol stands up to empty your ruined cup of tea and fix you a new one, this one is going to make fool of us all. You drink one to that. That’s why they didn’t send an obvious brute. They think he’s going to seduce us, and win us without a kill. You put your cup down a little too hard. Fuck him.

So, what’s your plan for today ? He properly buttons up his shirt, and you eye the disappearing skin all the way. The look you send him is full of fire and decadent promises. Ah, don’t look at me like that now, I must go ! You avert you gaze, back to your newspaper. He catches your smile as he puts his jacket on.

I know, I know, so do I. I have an appointment with Junmyeon, I’m assuming a new movie, the musical is really exhausting, at least with movies I can have normal workdays, you dramatically sigh, the back of your hand on your forehand, as if about to die.

That’s the price of success, my dear. He bends over to kiss you as you stand up to kiss him, leaning against him. I’ll give you a reward of my own tonight if you will, he adds, and payfully smacks your butt before heading out. I love you, good luck !

***

Luck is indeed what you need when you read the invitation Junmyeon hands you. Handwritten, neat, efficient. Both personal and artificial as can be, like any good performance. The twist your stomach makes is almost enough for you to throw up. You remain silent while he scans your face. It has always been clear where Junmyeon stands : where the money lies.

So ?

What ?

Will you go ? You weigh your words carefully. When your eyes meet his, you realize Junmyeon hasn’t set his mind himself.

Why would I ? It’s just an invitation to dinner. I have no reason to go.

***

It’s exactly why you have to go. We might be at war soon, milady. It is an opportunity for us to find out more about their plans. We need you to go to Governor Do.

You keep your eyes on your reflection as you wipe your make-up off. It is only the two of you in the changing room. Most of the lights are off, except for the fairy lights. You like it better that way. It’s more intimate and peaceful. You like how the little glitters in the Christmas tinsels reflect the light, like fireflies of many colors. But what the minister is telling you is shattering you from inside, like a very slow explosion – or maybe you are about to implode and collapse on yourself. He leaves you no choice but to become a huntress in the shadows.

***

You don’t tell Chanyeol about it. You don’t know where Chanyeol stands. Him, who sleeps in your sheets, who praises you like it would save his life, who loves making romantic gestures in a most bombastic way. You don’t know where Secretary Park, from a little ambassy stands. After all, the country he comes from has already signed a pact with the Empire. They pledged immediately and before any other nation. You assume, from the way he talks about them, that he is not fond of his leaders. But what do you know. You lie awake on your bed for hours, letting your body cool down, staring at the ceiling like it might hold all the answers. You shiver, and don’t even bother to sit up to smoke. You don’t need answers, you just wish for peace of mind – it is a luxury of the past now. When Chanyeol enters, a few hours before sunset, he thinks you look worse than he does, and he joins you wordlessly, looking for the comfort in the touch of your tender skin. He doesn’t tell you about his problems, and lets the both of you zone out, bodies intertwined as one. Later, when you both wake up, he smoothers you with kisses, and the fire in your head blinds your worries away.

You don’t talk about it.

***

Chanyeol doesn’t ask you anything when you come back from your work trip. He just wonders if it went well. When you shrug and sigh in answer, he takes it upon himself to make you feel better, and his kisses have never been more delicate on your skin, and he feels like a sun, radiating warmth and life and feeding it to your tired skin. When he nibs lightly on your ribs and you ruffle his hair, you feel his smile against you. Eyes closed, you feel him moving up to your face. His voice his only a whisper, but it deep and stable when he calls your name and asks what is wrong. You keep your eyes closed but he watches your face from the side, how harshly you bite your lower lip before licking it.

I don’t think I should say it. You feel too bad to notice the restrained sigh against your ear. He pulls you closer to him, until you lie on top of him, forehead against his chest, determined to avoid his gaze. His right hand finds its way through your hair to cup the back of your head, and he assures you he understands.

I just wish I could fix it for you. He feels the shadow of your smile against his skin.

You’re doing all right, Chan.

You don’t tell him about the dinner. You don’t tell him about the indecent dress you wore, about the most light fabric it was made of. How it looked like you were naked under a waterfall. How all eyes were on you the minute you walked in, except those of the new Governor. You keep to yourself the way they pierced right through you, and how enthousiastic he was to talk with you. You don’t tell him about the evening you spent discussing movie and literature with a war lord, and you try to forget his lingering hand on the small of your back when you left, and his offer to do this again, since having you among the company was a delight. You push down the half hidden threats whispered in your ear during the dance and pretend it was all a dream.

It doesn’t work.

You stop dreaming.

***

It becomes regular. Every few weeks you’re invited west of the border. First for evenings. Then for several days. Kyungsoo, as he insists you call him, lets you an entire wing of his mansion, to use as you please. You have no use to it. You don’t dare to ask him who were the previous owners of the place. Or where they are now.

It is lovely though. Decorated with a keen eye, even if it is a bit old fashioned. Lots of floral patterns on the walls, as to reflect the exuberance of the gardens around the residence. He offers you all sorts of pretty things, dresses and night gowns and shawls of the finest fabric. You spend hours discussing every matter that catches your attention. He inquires your opinion about everything, and sometimes you believe it is genuine interest and not a test anymore. He takes you to walks in the woods and teaches you how to shoot – just in case. When you ask him who might threaten you,  he puts his hand on you cashmere-covered waist and through it you feel his warmth. His eyes are on the same level as yours when he confesses, as he’d believe you might be his equal. You let him kiss you, a whole in the chest and your heart in the throat.

The minister of home intelligence is satisfied when you tell him the news. A sympathetic look in the eyes, he pats you on the shoulder, thanking you for your sacrifice, and urging you to keep up the good work.

***

Chanyeol watches you decrepit. He wonders why you don’t ask him about his absences. He tries to bring life back into you. He dances with you and reads with you. He makes love to you like he’s offering you his soul – he is. Since you don’t want to talk about what’s troubling you, he shares everything instead. Almost. He tells you about his childhood, about his home. About his college years and about his first love stories. He tells you about some of his colleagues, and how he hates the war. He tells you he wants to go away, when all of this will be over. To where there is music and joy. He lies naked before you, exposing himself more than ever before. Everything is yours to see, every last bit of his soul. Only one secret he keeps for himself.

***

Shades of grey don’t do you any justice, Kyungsoo decides. He dreams of glitter and colours to project, to have a more accurate image of you when you’re leagues away. For a few weeks, he toys with the idea of making you the face of Hope. You could be the Empire’s most glamorous face. When he mentions it to minister Byun, the response is thrilled, and Baekhyun assures him he’ll find the crème de la crème to work on this most ambitious project. What Kyungsoo doesn’t expect is your reluctant answer. He watches it all happen silently on your face. Conversations between the two of you often take time. You don’t think in the same langage. You rarely talk in either of your mother tongues. And you’re both quite cautious around each other. He really doesn’t want to mess this up. There is a fire in you he wants to stir up, not to put it out. There is not taming you in his mind.

When you tell him you’re not sure about meddling you’re career and your personal life, he knows he has to put a ring on it.

***

Every night you sleep at the mansion, you allow yourself one hour of rummaging in Kyungsoo’s office. The rest of it is spent imagining the face of the traitors. Or you think about the wonders of self control you’ve unfolded the day he proposed. You are a terrific actress indeed.

***

When the newspapers of both countries announce you are engaged, you understand what sacrifice you have made. You never see Chanyeol again.

***

The night you find the pictures is a relief. Even you know they’re dangerous. Every little rock on the shores of your country is there, carefully spotted. The map stored with them identifies them all. You know the next time you leave Kyungsoo will be the last.

When you give them to the Minister, you ask for a new passport. And a way out. He asks if you have any idea of who the contact might be. You say it’s someone in an ambassy. You say there’s not just one person. You say they’re everywhere. You say it’s over. You don’t mention the fact that everyone has turn their back on you. Because you’re the face of national complacency.

Maybe that’s why they come to you directly. For the first time, they come knocking to your door. You recognize them as Chanyeol’s coworkers. Jongin, Minseok. They say Kyungsoo asked them to drop by – see if you were all right. You know that’s not what he said. If there is one thing Kyungsoo values about you, and takes pride in, it’s precisely the fact that you don’t need nor want to be babied. When they see your smile, and the absence of light your eyes, they both shift their balance. Your face remain unreadable when they ask you about your former lover, and Jongin realizes why Governor Do has set his mind on you. You’re stronger than most of the people he has met – including the governor. There is no point trying to fool you, so he goes straight to the point.

Where’s Chanyeol ? So he was a traitor. Good riddance – your heart climbs his way up your throat – it’s been a long time.

I don’t know.

Are you sure, presses Minseok. Jongin’s glad the disgusted twist on your lips isn’t adressed to him. It is humilating, even in second-hand.

In case you haven’t noticed, I got engaged. I don’t know to who’s shoulder Chanyeol went crying. Jongin wonders if his past lovers speak as lowly of him as you do now. Chanyeol might be a deceiving bastard, but he was a nice guy to be around otherwise. He clears his throat.

Is there any place he might have told you of ? Where he could be now ? You hum slowly.

The lonely islands. He has a cabin there. Likes to be alone to meditate or whatever.

Could you take us there. One, two, three, you have nothing left to loose.

All right.

***

Nothing has changed. The island is still exactly the same. Every rock, every sprig of lichen. The gentle howling of the wind, caressing your cold ears, caressing your eyelids, caressing your lips as if saying, just this one more time. You bit the inside of your lower lip hard and don’t let go. You have no word to tell them. You watch them climb their way out the small boat, and head toward the wood cabin. You don’t mention there is no other boat tied up to the rocks – their time is worthless.

You come inside right after them. The amount of dust on every surface is the same as the last time you came here, only weeks ago. It feels like years and years have passed by, but it is merely an illusion of your stretched heart. You let your gaze brush over the scarce furniture, trying to put your attention on attention itself, blocking any harmful thoughts. You feel the cracks in your armour. Of what could have been. Of what you let go. Of what you gave up.

You notice the guitar, and a rush of adrenaline blows away your attemps at meditation.

He’s here.

You leave the room, aiming for the water closet. You close the door, sit down and bite your fist as hard as you can.

***

It’s you. It can only be you. Chanyeol watches you enter the room through the floor slits. You’re having a mental break down, he can tell. But he cannot make it to why you are here in the first place. You’ve never tried to talk to him since he stopped coming to you. The Governor’s fiancee. His jaw tenses. No wonder you couldn’t tell him what was wrong. How could you hide it from him he understands. How you were probably used for it by your own government tears his heart apart. If only he had told you what his business was. What he was working for – the very same thing you were fighting for. The wooden floor is only a couple centimeters’ thick, but it is far enough to keep him from touching you. How he wished he could console you know. Tell you everything will be repaired. Take you to dance and fireworks. Oh, to hesitate between the prettiest of flowers at the shop and settle for all of them. To fix you cups of tea and quick meals.

***

In the kitchen, Minseok abruptly opens a drawer.

***

For miles around, every submarine reports the explosion.

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 65 - 67

I want this book over and done with

The Lock had crafted the sarcophagus from the mountain itself. It had taken every ember of its power to bind Erawan within the stone, to seal him inside.

Chapter 65 opens up with Elena’s POV on how Erawan is sealed up.

When [Elena] had stolen the Lock from her father all those months ago, she had not known—had not understood —the truth depth of its power. Still did not know why he had forged it. Only that once, just once, could the Lock’s power be wielded. And that power … oh, that mighty, shattering power … it had saved them all.

Holy fragments, Batman! Holy em dashes, Batman! Was SJM typing with one hand or?

Gavin, sprawled and bloody behind her, stirred. His face was so mangled she could barely see the handsome, fierce features beneath.

Gavin got his ass whooped by Erawan but Elena still needs to bust a nut over how hot he once was lmfaoooooo you’re killing me SJM

But even Gavin had not known what [Elena]’d been planning. What she’d stolen and harbored all these months. She did not regret it. Not when it had spared him from death. Worse.

Lmao is this an unintentional parallel to Alien and Rowboat because i am laughing Elena is punished for keeping secrets but Alien blatantly gets away with it holy fucking shit

Some spirits show up and tell Elena despite her efforts, no cigar. Erawan is gonna bust out of there eventually.

“He will rise again one day,” said the one of darkness and death. “He will awaken. You have wasted our Lock on a fool’s errand, when you could have solved all, had you only the patience and wits to understand.” “Then let him awaken,” Elena begged, her voice breaking. “Let someone else inherit this war—someone better prepared.”

I’m a sucker for conflict like this, where the older generation passes their problems onto the younger generation and the falling out from that, but sadly SJM didn’t give me any good character to inherit these problems for me to care about. Such a good concept wasted on a shitty disguise for fantasy porn.

Elena has to promise she’ll help whoever holds the Wyrdkeys next to fix the problems she made. Thanks, Elena, for making me read Alien’s shitty adventure. The scene swaps over to another memory.

The Princess of Eyllwe had been wandering the Stone Marshes for weeks, searching for answers to riddles posed a thousand years ago. Answers that might save her doomed kingdom.

Wait.....Nehemia?

Nehemia, baby, what are you doing here? Flee this shitty novel! Run my child, be free and flee to the land of actual good writing!

So Elena tells Nehemia about Alien’s destiny to save everyone (gag) and to go forth and seek out Alien to help her.

“And the price?” Elena hated them, then. Hated the gods who had demanded this. Hated herself. Hated that this was asked, all these bright lights … “You will not see Eyllwe again.”

Wow. So SJM really made a black woman’s entire character arc about dying for her precious snowflake OC, huh....SJM really out here dong Nehemia dirty like this.........

Nehemia swallowed. “Then I shall help in whatever way I can. For Erilea. And my people.”

GROSS SOBBING

NEHEMIA DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN WHAT THIS SHITTY SERIES DID TO HER NEHEMIA BABY I AM SO SORRY

Chapter 66 opens with Assdion’s POV... great. Can I please see Maeve punch him in his stupid face?

Aedion Ashryver had been trained to kill men and hold a line in battle since he was old enough to lift a sword.

SJM is still attempting to get me to feel bad for Assdion. Well guess what Sarah, too little too late.

But Aedion’s duty wasn’t to remind [the soldiers] of the blunt facts. His duty was to make them willing to die, to make this fight seem utterly necessary.

Anything for your precious queen Alien, huh? Eat my ass, Assdion.

[Lysandra] had modified her sea dragon. Given it longer limbs—with prehensile thumbs. Given her tail more strength, more control.

Holy fucking shit, and I thought Alien was a Mary Sue!!! So Lysandra can not only perfectly shift into a creature she’s never seen in the flesh before, she can also modify it like it’s an RPG??? Holy fucking shit Sarah quit making all your OCs over powered!! How the fuck am I supposed to be feel any tension or fear???

Arrows fired with better accuracy than the Valg foot soldiers, shooting like those rays of sunshine into the water. [Lysandra]’d prepared for that, too. They bounced off scales of Spidersilk. Hours spent studying the material grafted onto Abraxos’s wings had taught her about it—how to change her own skin into the impenetrable fiber.

1. “rays of sunshine” the fucking imagery???? Does SJM know how words work???

2. HOLY SHIT, PULLED OUT OF YOUR ASS MUCH??? We were given no indication Lysandra had been studying Abraxos’s wings until now, what a fucking ass pull!!! If you’re going to introduce new sudden magical elements you have to show them beforehand, otherwise it looks like you wrote yourself into a corner and just farted out a solution last minute!!!!

I hate this book. I hated it before, but I really hate it. The fact that so many talented authors receive no attention but SJM’s absolute garbage dumpster fire novels that are just for porn with no other thought put into them get all this praise makes me want to jump off a bridge.

Anyways, now we’re in Dorito’s POV and SJM Dorito is splooging over how powerful Rowan is. Same old, same old.

But when Aelin found their bodies, or whatever was left of them if the sea didn’t claim them … she might very well end the world for rage. Maybe she should. Maybe this world deserved it.

I mean, if she ended the world this series would be over and I’m on board with that, but you guys have spent this entire novel fighting to protect the world from the bad guys and now suddenly when things get hard you’re like, “eh fuck it the world doesn’t deserve our help”? Wow, some heroes you guys are.

[Dorian] wished he’d had more time to talk to the witch. To get to know her beyond what his body had already learned.

I’m not touching this because it’s beyond fucking stupid and this is the moment SJM should’ve woken up and realized her precious romances have no chemistry and are simply there for porn purposes.

Anyways, surprise surprise, Rowboat’s begging actually worked and his cousins start firing at their own ships. Score one for ass pulls!

Rowan had told Enda about Aelin.

The next chapter opens up with this, and I’m honestly baffled. If Rowboat told his cousins about the selfish shitlord that is Alien, you’d think they’d be more than eager to destroy her ship. But I suppose not.

So [Rowan]’d gone, ship to ship. To the cousins he knew might listen. An act of treason—that was what he had begged them for. Treason and betrayal so great they could never go home. Their lands, their titles, would be seized or destroyed.

So why the fuck did they decide to help him?

No, I’m serious, Rowan doesn’t tell us. If I was one of his cousins and this fucker showed up after betraying our queen and begged me to risk my own life and family to save him, I’d tell him to go fuck himself.

Is SJM fucking with us on purpose? Because none of this makes any sense. They have no logical reason to help Rowan at the risk of themselves, and I’d bet every cent I ever owned Rowboat won’t lift a finger to help any of his cousins after Maeve kicks them out.

SJM is a shitty writer. She’s worse than fucking George Lucas. That’s right, I said it, don’t fucking come @ me.

Maeve wouldn’t allow it. She’d wipe the Whitethorn line off the map for this.

If Rowboat’s cousin and his lover die because of this I am going to break something.

Anyways, Rowboat and the gang start winning because of fucking course they do, and Lorcan realizes Maeve isn’t actually on any of her ships, but on the same beach Elide was ordered to wait on. Well, duh, did you really expect Maeve to be that stupid?

The chapter is over, and oh my god less then 10 chapters..... I can do this, I can do this...........

[noonachronicles]

Angels and Demons Final

Choi Seunghyun/ TOP X Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Mafia AU

Warning: Language, Violence, Drugs

Authors Note: I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know. I hope you like it.

Moodboard by @memoiresofaneternaldreamer

When he was thirteen Kwon Jiyong watched Scarface for the first time. He wanted to be Tony Montana more than anything else in the world. That night he stole brandy from his father’s bar and one of the cigars from his office. He didn’t smoke it, he just sat in the oversized leather chair his father had and let it hang from his mouth. He kept a poster of Al Pacino sitting behind his desk full of cocaine over his bed until college for motivation.

That was his dream, and he just knew he could do it. He could run drugs through the family business and be good at it. It was his calling, he just needed someone to believe in him. Of course, his father never believed in him. His father was loyal under Seunghyun’s father’s leadership and consequently Seunghyun’s. He hated the way his father talked about Seunghyun. He was always so proud of him, of how well he took care of his family. How his serious he took the business. To Jiyong it felt like Seunghyun was his son and he was no one to him.

“Jiyong, can’t you be more mature? Look at Seunghyun.” his father would say, “Always dressing nicely, always professional. All you do is go out and drink with your friends. You’ll watch Seunghyun rule the world one day while you waste your life.”

It was when Seungri and Jiyong had been to prison together that Jiyong found his support. It wasn’t that Seungri truly believed in Jiyong’s idea but he was tired of fighting and stealing. When he was younger and his father explained the business he thought it would be cooler, but being in the clan felt more like having  an office job than he’d expected. Tracking shipments and payments and being the muscle when one of the two didn’t add up. What Jiyong offered him sounded just like the kind of exhilaration he’d wanted out of life, but Jiyong didn’t need to know that’s all it was.

With Seungri by his side, Jiyong felt ready to take over. A week after he was released from prison he sat at Sunday dinner with his family and watched his father drink from his personal brandy bottle. A wide grin spread over his face and five minutes later his father was dead on the ground. The room was screaming and in chaos as he finished his meal as head of his family.

Now with Seunghyun gone, he was on top of the world. He felt, more or less, that he was now the head of the clan. There would, of course, be a vote by the heads but he felt confident. He’d shown what he was capable over and over. He could not be denied now. Not with Youngbae under his thumb. Now the rest would fall in line as well.

He rubbed his hands excitedly as he waited in the dimly lit warehouse. He was with his twelve best men, they watched as crates were moved around on forklifts. Two men with guns holstered at their sides came out from behind a stack of crates and brought Jiyong to a  small office towards the back of the warehouse.

“Sorry for the wait. It’s been a long day.” said the man behind the desk, “Would you like to see the merchandise?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

The man behind the desk nodded to one of his men who left the room for the briefest moment before coming back in with a bag of rice flour. He laid the bag on the desk and pulled a sharp bladed knife from his back pocket. Jiyong watched as he dug the blade into the plastic bag, rice flour slipping all over the desk. He reached his hand inside and pulled out a smaller package. Silently, he cut that package open as well, this one more delicately than the last. He covered the tip of his knife in the white substance inside and offered it to Jiyong.

Jiyong dipped his finger into the powder and ran it across his gums. After a moment he nodded happily and waved over one of his men, who placed a black briefcase on the desk and opened it to stacks of cash.

“Quality shit you have here and at a bargain price. I’m excited to be in business with you.”

“We’ll get the shipment to the location you provided within the hour. It’s been a pleasure.” The man behind the desk said as they shook hands.

“I’m taking this.” Jiyong said grabbing the small package off the desk before making his way with his men out of the small office.

He walked out of the office and through the warehouse with such a pep in his step that he didn’t even notice that the men that had been manning the forklifts were gone. That everyone in the warehouse was gone. It wasn’t until he stepped outside into the dark early morning and was blinded by police floodlights that he realized what was happening.

They’d kept him in the back of an unmoved police car for what felt like hours. He overheard one of the officers say that an anonymous tip had been called in. The sun was rising, starting to turn the sky from indigo to navy, by the time the car started rolling away. Jiyong watched, only slightly disappointed that he’d failed, at the scenery that passed by. He’d be fine in prison, he had been just fine before. He would come back and try again. He was young and had plenty of time. His gaze shot forward as the car jerked.

“What the hell?” The driving officer said as he seemed to be losing control of the car. The car came to a screeching halt as the driver hit the breaks.

A second set of tires was screeching as well and Jiyong turned in his seat to watch as a black van stopped just behind them. Three masked men jumped out of the back.

“Well that’s interesting.” He said quietly, The policemen in the front seat were too focused on the car to notice what was happening behind them. In no time at all two of the masked men opened fire on the police officers while the third popped open the backseat and dragged Jiyong out into the street.

“If you’d only asked nicely, I would have gotten out on my own.” Jiyong said annoyed as he was pulled to his feet and shoved over to the van. “Is this a rescue or a kidnapping?”

“Shut him up please.” The driver hissed as the van took off in a flurry.

One of the shooters looked over at Jiyong, a twinkle of a smile in his eyes, “Gladly.”

The last thing he saw before black was the butt of a gun headed towards his face.

When Jiyong came to he found himself tied to a wooden chair. Hands behind his back, ankles tied to the legs. He was shivering, shirtless, sitting in the center of a meat cooler. As his eyes adjusted he noticed the corpses of swine that had surrounded him. Just in front of him was the large limp body of a pig swimming in what he assumed was its own blood. He scoffed nervously at the large hunting knife that was standing up right, the blade digging deep into the pig’s belly flesh.

“Hey!” he shouted, “Either let me out or come in here and kill me already!”

A few seconds passed before the shutter of the door could be heard. A man stepped into the cooler with him. Jiyong laughed. The man’s mouth was covered with a face mask. His hair drooping down into this eyes. Just a gray tank top and a black rubber apron covered his torso. He also wore black jeans and rubber boots with matching rubber gloves that covered his entire forearms.

“Who are you supposed to be? Do they call you the butcher? I don’t know what you expect to get out of me.”

The man bent down and pulled the knife from the blood soaked swine, and then stepped over it towards Jiyong.

“Everything.” the man said and Jiyong’s eyes shot up in surprise, “I expect to get everything out of you. Your heart, your lungs, your stomach…”

“Who...who are you?” Jiyong asked, a hint of fear finally reaching his voice.

“You can call me death.” The man said pulling the mouth mask from his face.

Jiyong’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

-

The museum was always quiet on Tuesday nights. They were her favorite night to go. At first she felt vain doing it. Going to the museum and sitting in the dark room that they had kept her sculpture. Watching the way the lights flickered and reflected against the walls. It made her think of her first time with Seunghyun. The way the lights danced across his face, half red and half white. Her angel and her demon wrapped up in one beautiful man.

Her love for him had been planted deep and grew fast. She felt like she had barely gotten a taste of life with him before she was forced to go back to life without him. Life without Seunghyun was nowhere near life with him. It was scarier and lonelier and she hated it. There was relief in that almost a month had passed and while she still cried often she finally could find the joy in her memories of him as well. The laughter that he had saved just for her. Mornings hidden under the sheets. The way he made her smile so hard her cheeks ached.  

She was used to the exhibit being empty. Not many people even knew it was there. People rarely dared to enter rooms with closed doors. Sometimes when she came in she would find teenagers in a liplock or an elderly person that had been dropped off while their family walked the rest of the museum. However, usually it was just her. She went to her usual bench and put her bag down. She jolted upright when she heard the clearing of a throat and turned around to see just the silhouette of someone on the other side of the sculpture. She grabbed her chest and as she chuckled at herself.

“Just as jumpy as ever I see.” his voice resounded through the room. Tears instantly brimmed her eyes. “...I missed you, angel.”

“Seunghyun?” Her lips trembled. Her hands trembled. Her whole body was a leaf in a windstorm, hanging on by a stem.

“You have someone else calling you angel now?” He asked stepping around the sculpture with a smirk.

Her breath shortened as her lungs grew tight in her chest. It was him, standing there looking just like before. He was wearing his dress pants with his blazer and a white button down shirt. She could see the tan skin of his chest from where the shirt was open. It was him.  He was there and she could no longer breath. Her head and her heart unable to make sense of the sight in front of her.

“Hey...hey…” with just a few of his long strides she was in his arms. She let out the gasp of someone who had been drowning. Seunghyun was the surface.

“It-it’s you.” She gasped between sobs. “You came back.”

“I promised I would.” He whispered against her hair.

“You were dead.” she clung to him, afraid that he might disappear again. “You were dead, and it hurt so much.”

He held her in his arms as she cried. She wasn’t sure if she would ever stop. She didn’t understand how this could be real but she didn’t need to at this moment. In this moment he was back and his arms held her tighter than before to make up for lost time. They stood there until his shirt was practically soaked through. His grip never loosened and he let his tears fall freely as well. Only for her, only in their private moment would he cry.

She refused to remove her arms from him as they left the museum and practically sat in his lap on the drive home. She kissed his neck and his chest, and sighed deeply when he pulled her mouth to his. Tears threatened her eyes again just from the feel of his hands on her body. She peeked beneath his shirt to view his unharmed torso. His hand massaged her back and she fell asleep on his shoulder. 

When they arrived home he carried her upstairs and laid her in bed. With a permanent smile across his lips he took off her shoes and her jeans. He pulled a blanket up over her shoulders and laid down beside her. He watched her sleep, running his fingers over her cheek and through her hair, leaving kisses here and there. There was plenty of business to take care of. There were people to see and explanations to be made but he would take care of it all later. He had taken care of the most pressing issues and everything else could wait. Seunghyun wrapped his arms around his girl and fell asleep almost immediately. He was home and that’s all that mattered to either of them.   

[aurianaholland]

Auriana's Journal Entries #1

“Bloody Fuckin ‘ell!”

My head snapped up from my yoga pose and looked at my best friend as her boyfriend bellowed from another room in the house. Her eyes locked with mine and she just shrugged going back into her meditation as the distinctive sound of glass breaking hit my ears. I sighed and straightened myself and grabbed my water bottle from beside me shaking my head, they may be dating but when it came to Jarroth and his temper tantrums it was typically my “job” to deal with him.

“Fine, I’ll go see what the fuss is about.”

I entered the room where Jarroth had smashed his whiskey glass against the mantle of the fire place in his study. He was pacing frantically notes strewn across his desk mumbling to himself, nothing out of the ordinary really.

“Jarroth what is going on in here?” I heaved a sigh bending over the broken fragments piecing them together with my mind and floating the glass onto the mantle.

“The Goddamned Hollands.” He shouted at me and instinctively rolled my eyes knowing I had just stepped into WWIII.

“Not this again…”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he growled pinning me to the wall

“Jarroth they are not bad people. I know I don’t have my memories and I don’t know much about your world, however something deep inside me says they are not bad people.”

Jarroth’s eyes flashed black with rage whiskey thick on his breath began screaming, what exactly I couldn’t make out due to the empathic volume he was using, and before I had any time to react in his rage Jarroth brought his hand down on his forehead yelling “BAMF!” In a blink I look around and instead of being in a small house in London I’m now standing on a sandy beach over looing and emerald bay of the most beautiful coast line id ever seen.

“God damn that bloody fucking bastard! Where am i?”

I scanned the beach which was as barren as I’m sure his head is 90% of the time. I should have known though arguing with a mage with space magic however would get me sent to god only knows where and for all I know with Jarroth is he could have meant kill me in that moment and that only added to my rage.

“Some fucking boss you are you fucking prick!”

I kicked the sand angrily before centering myself, my magic doesn’t work as well if I’m not focused. I closed my eyes and took deep even breaths and began listening for civilization which when my ears picked up on the faint noise of a street market it didn’t sound more than maybe an hours walk so at least I wasn’t completely stranded, although barefoot and ill prepared. I began the long trudge towards what I could only hope was a normal town and not some hostile tribe in the middle of nowhere. The weather was hot much warmer than I was used to in London, thank God I had my water bottle otherwise I think I might melt under the sun.

The closer I traveled in the direction of the market the more people began to appear and the more attention I attracted, which is not uncommon with my long pink hair, but I feel like this time it was my pale skin that was standing out just as much in a crowd of well tanned people. I could tell by the conversations I overheard that the dialect was Spanish, not because I understood what was being said past “Hola” but it’s a bloody good indicator. I had the gut wrenching feeling that I was in a foreign country where I don’t know the language, nor do I have a phone, money, shoes, or a way home…I was ready to kill Jarroth. I Wandered the beach until it came to a stone stair way that lead to the street with the market which was far too hot to walk on normally so I just created a invisible barrier around my feet and moved down the market. I was enamored of all the handmade items and the food stalls smelled amazing but as the light grew dim my anger began to turn to dread as I the severity of my situation was setting in. I sat on a bench hugging my knees in an empty part of the market and tried my best to connect minds with Jarroth but he’d shut the connection down when he’d teleported me. I really had lost all hope at this point.

“Disculpe señorita, ¿está bien?”

A rich voice filled my ears and I looked up through tear filled eyes and looked at him with wide eyes unsure of what what being said to me.

“I’m sorry sir but I don’t speak Spanish.”

I admitted this lowering my legs as to not be rude he extended his hand towards my face and wiped a stray tear away from my face before I could pull away.

“I’m sorry, I should have guessed.” He laughed “Are you alright miss you’re crying and you seem a little lost.”

I was warry of this strange man with his thick accent suddenly approaching me in the dark line this it means one of two things, either he’s dangerous, or he’s a mage and I have no way of differentiating between the two. His short dark hair glimmered in the lamps from the stalls but his smile was soft and reassuring. Sensing my apprehension, he sat down beside me.

“I’m a little out of sorts, and a long way from home.”

He noded and leaned into my ear,

“You are either very bold using magic in the open in the way you do you’re like a beacon asking for trouble”

I shrugged using my magic was second nature for me, any time I needed it I used it if someone freaked out Jarroth would usually just calm them down…and when I say calm them down I mean whipe their mind.

“I don’t see the problem, a bubble around my feet that only a mage should notice, besides…” I wiggled my toes, “Not much choice right now “

Talking with this man made me realize how odd my British accent sounded especially next to his thick Latin sounding accent.

“Where are we anyway?” I asked bemused

His look became more concerned the more I talked.

“You don’t know where you are?”

I shook my head “Long story actually.” He rubbed his temples a moment and muttered something in spanish “What’s your name?”

“Auriana,” He smile at the reply and took my hand “Let’s find you some shoes so you blend in…. well ok stand out a little less.”

We strolled the market place and after a brief argument that I lost I was fitted into a beautiful pair of red heels that didn’t match my exercise outfit at all so I also wound up with a new dress without knowing my benefactor’s name. I kept a close eye on him the entire time we shopped until he led me away from the market towards a car and I stopped short of getting in.

“I don’t want you to think me rude but I still don’t know your name and you’re being awfully nice to someone who has nothing to offer you…why?” He laughed and opened the door for me

“My name is Ricardo, and as for being nice that does come at a price but first I need you to get in the car and trust me. Besides I know a guy who can get you anywhere you want to go so we need each other.” I nodded and slid into the car and let him close the door. Mages always come with a catch always. After he began to drive he looked at me and the fun that his eyes had in the market went serious.

“You’re a physic, right?” I nodded keeping my gaze on him and he nodded back, “Can you heal people?” His voice was almost pleading. “There’s been a rumor of physic healers but they tend to be hoaxes but I’m desperate.” I nodded once more and chuckled.

“I can heal, but you seem to know so much about magic why not ask a mage?” His hands tightened on the wheel “Life mages are rare and their help costs more money than I have.” He admitted. “Not to mention the person I’m asking you to heal would raise eye brows if they suddenly were healed.“ I rubbed my chin contemplating how hard my task was going to be, broken bones and the like weren’t hard to fix but things like cancer and muscular disorders those were tricky for me still I’d only just began studying magic and medicine and magic in tandem, not to mention it had only been six months since Jarroth found me in the woods in Oregon.

“So, what exactly are you asking me to heal?” I asked with a heavy dose of skepticism. He stopped the car outside of a small shack and turned the key “My little brother can’t walk any more, we got into an accident and it’s my fault and I’ve been trying to find a way to help him since the accident. I don’t know how you got here and frankly I don’t care I just thank Santa Maria you are, please I can get a space mage to send you home wherever home is but I’m begging you…help my little brother.” I nodded

“Ricardo, you have helped me this far, if you can help get me back to London I’ll see what I can do about your brother’s injuries I can’t promise perfection but I can at least get him upright.” His eyes light up as he sprinted out of the car and around to me dragging me out and into the house. He greeted his parents both of which looked at me with a curious eye and a deep conversation ensued between the three of them while I was pointed in the direction of the brother. I walked back to find a seventeen-year-old boy bed ridden in his room asleep which worked better for me I didn’t have to try and converse. I laid my hands gently on the boys arm channeling my energy mapping his body finding where the damage was and then sewing it back together like a reversing clock with how quiet the room was and his rhythmic breathing I was able to focus more than usual and poured a lot of energy into healing the young man when I knew everything I was able to do hand been complete I went back to join Ricardo who was pacing frantically with his mother praying on the sofa, while his father smoked a cigar.

“How is he!” Ricardo exclaimed as he grabbed my shoulders when I looked at the clock behind him forty-five minutes had passed since we arrived

“He was asleep when I went in so I don’t know progress, but I’ve done what I can for him.” My tone was low and his mother started weeping openly shaking her rosary.

“I understand, let me make a few calls so we can get you home I have to keep my end of the bargain.” He sighed and went to the window. His father told me the story of how the boys had been hunting a vampire and Ricardo’s brother fell down an embankment catching on a fence and broke parts of his back which is why I was needed to heal him, I wanted to know how well the boy would walk but disturbing his sleep wouldn’t be fair and it was something he’d need to discover gradually so the town didn’t yell miracle and start trying to make me a saint.

Two hours passed but finally Ricardo’s contact arrived and with the help of Ricardo’s mother opened a portal into my bedroom for me to return home I said my farewell to the wonderful family and with my water bottle and clothes in tow stepped back into normality and back into 11 pm London Time.

“JARROTH YOU BLOODY FUCK I’M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS!” I yelled through the house the moment the portal closed. I was quickly intercepted by Tabi wrapping her arms around me “My God Auri where have you been I’ve been worried sick.” Her voice was soft as she kept me on the opposite side of the room for a cowering Jarroth whom looked like a kicked puppy. “Oh I don’t know I just spent my day in bloody Spain.” Her eyes went wide with terror “SPAIN, JARROTH YOU TRANSPORTED HER TO SPAIN ON HER OWN WHY ARE YOU THIS WRECKLESS!?” Tabitha hardly every became cross with Jarroth and this was somewhere between fury and being mortified for her. “Whatever you two were arguing about you are never allowed to talk about with each other again do I make myself clear you two?!” I just nodded knowing if I got close to him I’d have to fight both and I was not up for it, and that is basically why Jarroth and I do not discuss politics.