#so you bet I’m gonna blaze this fucker
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Riposte
#I thought of this at like 3 AM#then remembered it while I was in shock from falling down a flight of stairs#so you bet I’m gonna blaze this fucker#also#biseuxal#lesbian#gay#for the swords#fencing#swords
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The Best Kind of Distraction
My first TXT imagine!! I won't be writing for anyone but Soobin and Yeonjun, simply because they're much younger than me and it makes me uncomfy, so here, some Soobin.
Master List
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It was more than a little distracting, the way Soobin’s plush lips slotted against yours so deliciously. It was rare that one of you had anywhere private to yourselves, and seeing as you were almost desperately keeping your relationship out of the eyes of your collective roommates, you took advantage of every second you had alone. There was little you loved more than curling up in his lap, winding your fingers into his hair and having a good old fashioned make out session.
“How long do we have?” He murmurs, lips trailing along your jaw.
“He’s supposed to be at Tae and Hyuka’s all night.” Your voice is practically a moan, and you can feel him grin against your skin. “You know the moment he finds out we are so in for it, right?” He groans, dropping his head to your shoulder, and tightening his grip on you.
“Maybe it won’t be that bad.” He reasons, fingers absently trailing up and down you legs, which were thrown over his lap. He pulls his face away from you, leaning his head on the support of your bunk to look at you properly. “I mean, he loves us both.” You nod, head lightly tapping the wall behind you.
“Wouldn’t you be pretty fucking upset if your two closest friends started dating?”
“Especially if they did so behind your back.” The screams let out by the two of you at the sound of a third voice joining you could probably have been heard throughout your whole dorm hall. Soobin somehow winds up on the floor, one of his legs still up on your bed, and the both of you stare wide eyed at the man who had interrupted you.
Yeonjun stands in the doorway, arms crossed, looking into your shared dorm with a mixture of disgust and disappointment obvious on his face. He takes in Soobin on the floor for a moment, then turns his attention to you, scowling when you offer him a smile.
“Hey roomie,” You call sweetly, “Fancy seeing you here.”
“You both fucking suck.” He finally says, shaking his head as he casually steps over Soobin, heading towards his desk. “I guess now I know why you assholes never wanted to hang out together with me.” He snatches his wallet from his desk, spinning back to the two of you. “I mean, I thought you hated each other.” Soobin sits up, pulling his foot from the bed.
“Yeonjun-”
“And you two nasties didn’t even hear me come in.” He shudders a little, shaking his head again.
“I mean, we were a little distracted.” Soobin remarks, cheeks blazing. Yeonjun turns his scowl on his friend, “I’m gonna stop talking now.’’ He curls in on himself, hiding his face in his knees. You lean forward instantly, patting Soobin’s head in comfort.
“Good choice.” Yeonjun huffs, “I can’t fucking believe you fuckers.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I fucking hate you.”
“Why, cause it’s us or cause you’re still single?”
“Fuck you.” The glare he shoots you is totally worth it. “Although, I suppose I should thank you.”
“What? Why?” You immediately wonder, sitting up properly. Yeonjun finally smiles, his mischievous grin making you uneasy.
“I just won a bet.” He admits, tucking his wallet into his pocket.
“What?” Soobin’s head shoots up, “What bet?”
“I’ll explain tomorrow, when you two tell me how this happened.” He gestures between the two of you, “I’m going now, stay in your bed and use protection.” The pillow you launch at him bounces harmlessly off the door.
“Ass!” You call.
“Night, lovebirds.” He calls from the otherside.
“You okay?” You ask Soobin, once he finally peels himself from the floor only to collapse onto the bed, his head landing on your legs.
“My life flashed before my eyes.” He admits, scrubbing a hand down his face. “It was so boring.” He cracks a smile when you laugh, opening one eye to look up at you, “Told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”
“Oh hush.” You squish your hand into his face.
“Make me.” He closes his eyes once again, puckering his lips at you. You lean down, hovering just over his face, but making no further move to kiss him. “Come on, don’t be mean.” Instead of his puckered lips, you kiss the tip of his nose, making his face crinkle, “Not exactly what I was hoping for.” You sit back, watching him for a moment.
“Go lock the door.” You order, tapping his forehead.
“Can I have a proper kiss?” He asks, giving you his big puppy eyes.
“You can have whatever you like if you go lock the door.” A huge grin spreads across his face, and you swear he’d never moved faster.
Yeonjun would definitely regret letting the two of you stay in the room that night, but hey, he got free pizza out of it, and answers, so maybe it wasn’t too terrible of a trade off.
#txt imagine#txt imagines#tomorrow x together#soobin imagine#soobin imagines#txt soobin#soobin#choi soobin
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The Platinum Rules (Finale)
summary : Taehyung loves you—it’s a fact as obvious as a day. You are the one person he treasure the most, probably even more than life itself. And because he loves you dearly, he is greatly self-conscious that he should let you go. But can he actually do it when he knows he’ll spend a lifetime searching for someone like you?
{fake relationship! au, fuckboy! au, fratboy! au}
pairing : kim taehyung x reader (spinoff of (Not) Just Friends)
genre : fluff, angst, mutual pining
word count : 24k++
A.N = Read The Platinum Rules part 1 here!
============================
From that last encounter you kissed Taehyung, you do not reciprocate to any of his effort to contact you during weekends. All his calls went into voicemail, and you don’t even read his messages. At one point, you were sure that he was even in contact with your parents because of their missing usual pesky trait—they did not even question your sudden silence for locking up inside your room.
You did not cry. You really try hard not to. One thing you miss to predict was how easy it is to fall for Taehyung—his caring self who confuses you better than anyone. You were never the type to easily fall for anyone, but he is just another level. It’s not even a month in knowing him, but it's easy to see you have caught deep feelings for him. But it’s a lost case, because since you met him the first time, he clearly stated he does not do relationships. It’s you, you are the only one to blame and there’s no other way than try your hardest in turning your feelings down.
Hence Monday morning, you are hesitating to pack the food you promised Taehyung. You know how awkward it must be, especially after ignoring him all through the weekend—but you know it is inconsistent for you to disregard everything because of your silly feelings. Albeit begrudgingly, you pack the food when suddenly a message arrives.
From : Taehyung
Good morning, sunshine, I hope you are feeling better now! Sorry I cannot pick you up today, need to submit my paper :( Will you attend your 8am? Wanna grab breakfast after? xx
You sigh, glancing dully at the food you already pack for him.
It’s going to be a long day.
After finishing the 8am class, you walk to his faculty to deliver him the food. You are not sure whether you should stay or leave right after—especially after his last message of wanting to eat together. Regardless, you avidly warn your mind that anything that he does or says, it is all just because he somehow likes you, but only as a friend. You severely need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve.
That’s how you wait on the university park you promised him, fidgeting uncomfortably with the bag of food on your grasp. Not long until suddenly your name is called, you look up and find two men walking to your side. It’s Taehyung, eyes sparkling and a wide smile that instantly dries your throat… and Jimin. You did not expect that. What is Jimin doing here?! You really thought the deal between you two must be kept hidden for anyone.
“Hi, Y/N!” Taehyung cheerfully walks to you, throwing himself for the seat next to your side. “I’m glad to see you again. Ah, is that your grandma's food?” He asks in delight, not noticing the nervous gaze you point for Jimin’s presence.
“Hi, are you Y/N? I think I saw you before.” Jimin kindly introduces himself, like you wouldn’t know the identity of the infamous fratboy. “I’m Jimin.”
“Hi Jimin, yes I am her. Nice to meet you.”
“Well isn’t it great to finally meet the one that has been taking up lots of Taehyung time.” He civilly smiles. “I see you’ve been hanging out together.”
You are waiting for Taehyung to rectify Jimin’s misunderstanding, but it does not come so you abruptly answer. “Yup, kinda.” You nod nervously. “Only as friends, though. No worries.”
Jimin nods in mirth, noticing Taehyung’s glare at your unnecessary confirmation. “Sweetheart, you don’t really have to say that to him.”
Jimin takes a seat beside you. “So, are you freshmen? What major are you in?”
“Yup, a political science freshman.” You nod and smile, all because you really couldn’t hold it back when Jimin is just that friendly with a wonderful eye smile. “I know, it must sound boring, right? Your guess is correct.”
That’s how your conversation continues, and Jimin is surprisingly well informed about your major. One thing led to another, and came into the conversation is your side job as a column writer in one of the renowned media in the city. It is easy to forget yourself among the story about your passion in writing, and that’s how you are unconscious to Taehyung who is now practically glued right on your side, his frowning face resting on your shoulder while he slightly nuzzles on your nape—probably disliking the fact that you are too focused on his best friend instead of him. Jimin nearly falls to the ground, laughing his ass off at how childish Taehyung looks right now, lips pouting like a duck. You are telling him about the hurdles of releasing your latest article, Taehyung blatantly shoos him away with his blazing eyes. And as he doesn’t really want to get on his best friend's bad side, he concludes not to prolong his unwanted stay.
“That’s really interesting, Y/N! I am really interested in your writing, gonna check it after this!” Jimin kindly compliments, and you blush bashfully. You were never complimented in person other than your editor before, so you don’t exactly know what to do now with your face now.
“I think I’m gonna go now. May I know your number? Let’s talk over coffee sometimes!” Jimin devilishly asks while offering his phone, definitely intending to push his best friend’s buttons. You are just about to receive it when Taehyung is quick to slap the man’s hand away.
“I’ll give you the number.” He curtly answers, not a hint of entertainment is shown in his face. “Now leave.”
Sensing Taehyung's hostility towards his own thoughtful best friend, you are quick to glare at him. “Jimin, don’t mind him! You can tag along, let’s grab some food!”
Jimin knows that he will probably never live peacefully if he were to accept the offer, but he just can’t resist that one last kick in. “I’d love to…” and as expected Taehyung instantly mouths him a curse word, and then Jimin sends a polite smile at you. “But I have something urgent. Gotta leave now.”
“That’s too bad!” You pout, looking disheartened. Taehyung rolls his eyes.
Somehow, Jimin still has the guts to send you a wink, and Taehyung literally is this close to kicking his own best friend’s ass. “See you soon, Y/N! I’ll text you—that if Taehyung ever will give me your number.”
“Don’t bet on it.” Taehyung hiss under his breath, still glaring at his best friend giving you a small wave that you gladly reciprocate. Fuckers. He never should’ve brought that flirty ass with him.
“I like your best friend.” You mention out of nowhere, and Taehyung’s ears immediately perk up in distaste. “He seems nice. I can’t believe he actually wants to be your best friend without you bribing him whatsoever.”
“Nice? Wow, that’s the furthest word that can explain Jimin. Don’t believe him, Y/N—he is even worse than me.” Taehyung scornfully mutters, deciding to open the lunch bag to ignore the irritation inside his chest at Jimin’s name rolling off your lips. “He could be the worst and you shouldn’t believe him. He was literally hitting on you! I won’t give your numbers to him.”
“I kinda believe he is not hitting on me, Taehyung. I would know, because he is not treating me like you do.” You sarcastically sneer, helping Taehyung to open a few of the lunchboxes you prepared. “And you can give my number to him! I believe he won’t do anything—besides, I am also interested in a few of his points. Could be a great reference to my article.”
“Hey, how come I just knew you are a writer too?” Taehyung frowns, offering you a bite before he begins to eat. You are flustered with the gesture, but welcome it otherwise. “I thought we told each other everything.”
“Ah, that. It’s no biggies! I started it as an interest since high school, then I tried submitting it to a publication company and passed! I like doing it, and it is a good pay too.” You explain after munching on the bite he offered. “It’s not much, but yeah. It’s from my own hand, so..”
“I would love to get some side jobs too.” Taehyung responds, relentlessly offering you another bite. “I never know what it feels to spend the money you worked so hard in. I think I need to find something that pays.”
You quickly tap him in excitement. “You know what? You should make a fake boyfriend business. You’d be great.” You smile, albeit dimly, it was one of your most effective ways of handling difficulties—you joke about it. “I’d give testimonies too, but will need a few percent of your income, bro. Sorry.”
Taehyung thinly smiles, shaking his head. “Nah. I thought about that, but I think that’d be hard.”
“Why?” Your left eyebrows raised. “I thought you wanted to do it.”
“I think I like it because it is you.” He shyly scratches his nape, unable to meet your eyes. “I don’t really want to do it with anyone else. You are great, Y/N, and you make this so comfortable. I can’t imagine the disappointment of knowing there’s no other fake girlfriend who can be as good as you are to me.
Your head literally spins at his sentence, and all you want to do is shout, pleading for Taehyung to stop messing with your head. You hate the fact that he still has that same, great effect on you after the hurtful thing he said—but how can you say it without making a fool of yourself? How can you say it without letting him know that you are an idiot that fell for a fuckboy like him, bad?
A short silence ensues before Taehyung opens another topic. “You know, Y/N, since I watched lots, I mean lots of rom-com lately, I figure that it’s mostly the same. Do you think lots of women are into that cheesy dinner, movie, or walk on a beach for first dates?”
You roll your eyes, pushing the spoon he offered for you to eat for him instead, as he has been giving you too many portions now. “No, I don’t know. And you know I can’t speak on behalf of ‘lots of women’.”
He nods in understanding, then continues. “I see. What bout you, then? Are you into it?”
You suddenly grin at him in amusement. “So are you asking me that, because you want to know about my preference but start with that lame question directed for all women?”
He shrugs carelessly, lips grinning. “Maybe. Just curious. So, are you into it?”
Otherwise, you still answer. “Yup, I do. I think it’s cool. I used to want to go to the beach for a first date, but then I once watched a drama which the first dates are cooking class!” You smile dreamily. “That must be fun, cooking together. Very useful too.”
He nods, humming. “I think everything would be fun if it’s with you.” Taehyung is clearly mumbling to himself, and you hate yourself for still being able to catch it, yet you keep your lips tight.
Another ten minutes of silence. “So… Friday.” Taehyung clears his throat, trying to mask the nerves in his tone. The mood abruptly shifts at the remembrance of Friday last week. “I’m sorry if I was too forward, Y/N. It is confusing, I know.. but I meant every word.”
Meant every word? He must be joking. You look at him with tranquility, no emotion whatsoever. “No, don’t be sorry. It’s my fault too. I never should have discussed it with fuckboys like you whom I already know will always speak ill of relationship and settling down. It’s my fault.”
He knows you probably didn't mean it, but deep down he feels irritated on how you pronounce every word. Like he is at fault for saying what he truly feels. “Yes, that’s correct. I make it straight and clear with everyone—I am not looking for anything else serious. I don’t want to be tied down by anything and anyone.”
Taehyung is becoming defensive—you can feel it. But the annoyance and emotional distress is too much you are unable to hold another rebuttal. “Then maybe you should stop doing anything that might make people get the wrong idea. What would they think if they see you constantly hanging out with a girl, right?”
“What are you talking about?” He asks in deep confusion.
“Didn’t you hear yourself, Taehyung? Did you even hear the things you say to me?” You ironically had to point everything out. You really were not going to discuss this... “What would your flings think if they hear what you say to me, huh? They’d be disappointed, don’t you think so?”
“What—what are you on about?! I don’t care about what they think. That’s absolutely the last thing I care about. And even if they hear, they would understand we are platonic best friends, they would know.”
The word platonic best friends practically stabs you in the chest, the familiar agonizing feeling is a hundred times worse now that he is the one saying it with his own mouth. “Wow. Platonic best friends.” You whisper, swallowing the sour taste in your mouth, to get it right inside your head. Platonic best friends. It’s what Taehyung thinks of you.
“I don’t recall platonic best friends also entails making out in a car and shoving the tongue in each other’s mouth, but go on.”
Taehyung looks at you weirdly, like you’ve just grown another head. “It’s just a simple, fun, harmless kiss. Why are you making such a big deal of it?”
Wow, how wrong he is because he doesn't know how bad the so-called platonic kiss was messing your head all through the weekend and forward. You hate how every word coming out of his mouth hurt you again and again and you still too stubborn to let it go. There’s no use, why can’t you just accept the cold, hard truth? “Okay, then. Noted. No harm done.”
Taehyung notices that even though you concluded the conversation, both of you are still too deep in emotion of irritation for each other. He sighs at your cold and distant gesture, looking at you tiredly while massaging his temple.
“What do you want from me, Y/N?”
You turn to him and scoff. “What I want from you? Huh, that’s fun.” You fake enthusiasm, looking at him with a sardonic smirk. “I want you to stop crossing that ‘platonic best friend’ border. Stop confusing everyone. Don’t say things platonic best friends would not tell each other. Tell your friends straight that we are not dating. Don’t depend on your ‘platonic best friend’ your whole life like you mean it. And let’s not kiss. Just do everything like what we promised to do—in front of my parents.” You are now this close to bawl your eyes out, the familiar sting is appearing. “Or you know what? We don’t even have to do that anymore.”
Stop confusing everyone? More like stop confusing you. You are the one that needs clarity, but you throw that on him. Seeing the shock coloring his face, the guilt finally kicks in. You don’t mean it like that, you know his mind is assuming the furthest thing from what you actually mean. You are close to apologizing, but you know it’s what you desperately need. It’s better to make him hate you now, so you can try to move on without the ugly, unreciprocated feeling inside your chest.
Taehyung grins, pain written all over his face. “You really do not want to be perceived like that with me, huh.. Do you really care about what anyone thinks about us that much? Let them think what they want to think—I don’t give a fuck.”
You can’t believe that Taehyung still hasn’t gotten the idea that this all is what you do to protect your heart from the damage caused by his affectionate self. But you tighten your lips, not wanting to correct him and make a fool of yourself. It’s good as it is—let him assume anything he wants. As long as you can finally breathe without hurting again.
“You know what? You got it.” Taehyung suddenly stands up, eyes glistening and face turning red with fury and emotion. It’s the first time you saw him so upset and nearly in tears, and your chest clenched at the thought that you’ve hurt him greatly. “Just do whatever you want, Y/N. I don’t care.”
And then he left you alone, with the lunchboxes of food he barely touched. One realization kicks in, and you could not hold back a wince along with tears raining on your parade. You don’t know it would hurt that much to protect your heart.
It’s really the end, is it?
*
It’s been two weeks since that one last rendezvous that ended with a great fight with Taehyung, and that you haven’t had a single contact with him ever since. Now that you have no other business, you would go to university only for classes, and directly head home after. The finals were starting a week ago, and albeit hard, you are glad it kinda took most of your time and concentration so you don’t have to dwell on the fact that you lost someone so precious—just because you couldn’t hold your exhaustive feeling back. But you couldn’t lie that every night before sleep, you would stare at your ceiling and held back the tears, the betrayed face of Taehyung would always haunt you. Then come along with the concern if he is sleeping well, if he doing well, if he eats well, and if he was just as distraught as you were.
Your parents also had been noticing that their daughter was too silent to be true, but when they tried asking you about it, you just shrugged and confirmed that it’s nothing they should worry about. They thankfully were out of your space after, and you were more than jubilant for their rare understanding. They did not also ask about Taehyung—which was kind of surprising, but you are most absolutely not complaining and did not ask any further.
What successfully made you go through all agonizing two weeks is your strong will for your study, and finals were held since last week. Being so out of character, you start studying right after that spat with Taehyung, just so you can busy yourself and try thinking about him less. Albeit not working as effectively as you thought—you drift away too much to be proud of—but it was a great distraction. Now that it is finished, you are in faze, confused and not knowing what else to do.
That’s how you end up sleeping right after your last final test on Friday morning, and then wake up exactly 7pm to the sound of your phone ringing, signaling a new incoming message. You cannot even deny that you foolishly wished it to be Taehyung messaging you right now, but the thought was quick to be discarded as it turns out to be an unknown number. You sigh in faint disappointment, before reluctantly opening the said message.
From : Unknown Number
Hi, Y/N! It’s Jimin :) hope you still remember me. We are having a frat party to celebrate finals, starting at 9pm. Do come, we’d be glad to see u here! 😚
You re-read the message again and again, until it finally dawns on you. It’s Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend that is now asking you to come to their frat party—which also means he would be there too. And how did Jimin get your number? Did he somehow get it from Taehyung? But you were positive Taehyung already redacted all of your information and traces you were ever in his life, all because what a jerk you have been to him. You are hesitating. Did Jimin know that you are no longer in contact with Taehyung?
The name of your fake boyfriend suddenly reminds you of his smile, his kind words, and the amazing thing he has done for you—and it literally rubs the salt on the fresh wound inside your heart. You miss him terribly, and the thought of seeing him again after two weeks hurts and excites you simultaneously. You know it is literally a bad recipe for disaster—you should just stay back and get some sleep—but how long will you avoid all kinds of socialization because of your heartbreak? It’s no longer about him. You miss your friend, you miss the euphoria of partying, and you miss your freedom when he was just a nobody. You miss having a warm body close to you, pleasuring you in no other way could.
And that’s how you decided to pack your maroon halter dress with a black pumps that accentuate your ass, and say goodbye to your parents and that you’ll stay the night with your friends to celebrate finishing finals.
You are determined. Today, you are going to party so hard you’ll forget Kim Taehyung ever existed.
*
After getting ready to go to Jimin’s frat party in Yuri, your same-major friend’s dorm, you take a look again at yourself in front of the mirror. You quickly shift again the dress to stop at your knees, but it quickly rises again due to the short length. Sighing, you slightly regret to go with this dress you even forgot buying before—it could be the present from your friends, it must be. You also cringe at the amount of cleavage showing from the peek of your dress. Regardless of not being too obvious, but it is still too revealing for your own standard.
“Hey, you look perfect, honey.” Seungyeon smiles in encouragement, noticing the insecurities painted on your face. “This is the day we’ll free our mind from literal hell called finals, and get drunk to our heart's content. Lighten up!”
“Let’s go, I think the party has started.” Yuri mentions, grabbing her purse. You hesitantly walk out, seeing Minho, Yuri’s boyfriend is already waiting in front with his car. You don’t really know why there must be a car when her dorm with Jimin’s dorm is just two hundred metres away, but after walking with these thorny heels, you agree with her choice.
Arriving in front of the loud ass dorm’s door, you heave a deep breath repeatedly, gradually getting nervous ever since you step out of Yuri’s dorm. It’s not really you—you are always confident with these kinds of parties and know it like the back of your hand. What is making you nervous? Even your subconcious know the answer too well—it’s because of a certain Kim Taehyung.
You already calculated every possible scenario of meeting Taehyung again, and the most plausible one is for him to ignore you for the whole night and you decided to trash yourself until you found someone to sleep with tonight, the end. You wince, noticing how you despise the thought. Not that you are against it, but you are not really the one to go after one night stands—you even promised to put yourself away from these fuckboys radar—but the pain inside your chest is overmuch and what you desperately need is a good fuck that you will not remember the pain you caused yourself of Taehyung.
When you enter the dorm, it is already blazing with beats, the sounds of cheers are heard nearly every corner. You try to lock your gaze straight ahead, holding back the desire to explore every corner to see Taehyung and what he is doing. One thing you force inside your mind is that he must be with his girls, and it is useless to even search for him—it’s going to hurt you and nothing else. Tonight, you need to focus on yourself.
“Let’s get some drinks!” Seungyeon shouts in delight with Yuri, while you walk behind them to follow to the kitchen where the alcohol is served. You expertly pour whiskey on your glass, quickly sipping on the liquid and closing your eyes. Albeit cheap alcohol, at least the sensation of it leaves on your tongue is still delightful.
“Y/N! You’re here!”
You look back, finding Jimin with his usual wide smile walking to you. You rest your drinks, walking up to receive his surprising hug. “I’m glad to finally see you again here!”
“Yup-yup. Me too, Jimin.” You answer with an awkward smile. “Thank you for inviting me. The finals are rough, I’m glad I can finally drink the pain away.”
Jimin giggles, showing his cute moon creases eyes and you can’t help but to sincerely laugh with him. “I’m happy too! Hey, I gotta go. Talk to you later, okay?”
You hum in agreement, and when Jimin has disappeared in the crowd, Seungyeon is quick to hit you in the shoulder, her eyes opening in glint. “Hey! Since where are you close to Jimin?!”
At the question, you are caught off guard. What should you say? That you have a fake boyfriend for the sake of making your parents happy and it is Kim Taehyung? Even saying like that you even have a hard time believing it. “Yup. We just met through a mutual friend.”
Luckily your friend buys your lackluster explanation, especially when Yuri is heard to call both of you “Hey girls! Minho is asking us to join them! Let’s go.”
Right when you are about to say yes, the corner of your eyes immediately catches someone so familiar, the one you have tried avoiding with all your heart, with a girl glued on his side, chuckling their heart away. It’s Taehyung.
His right arm is around the girl’s slim waist, while her face is just a whisper away from his earlobe, whispering something that causes the glint of amusement in Taehyung’s face. The image quickly hammers you directly in the chest, and it feels like someone just stabs your heart. Here you are, two agonizing weeks trying and failing miserably just to get him off your head while he is out there living his best life, fucking girls like he never says how special you were to him. But who are you kidding? Are you seriously thinking he means everything? You must be dumber than you thought.
That’s how you quickly change your mind to your friend’s offer. “No, I think I need more drinks. Gonna join you guys later.”
Seungyeon nods in hesitance, realizing of your sudden change in demeanor but does not say a word. “Okay. Join us soon, Y/N.”
You hum, and after they left you alone in the kitchen, you rest both of your palm on the sink, lowering your head to let the tears fall without ruining your makeup. Fuck, now everything is a mess. You seriously thought you were mentally prepared to see Taehyung again back on his fuckboy activities, but how wrong you were. You are still hurt and the irrefutable fact that you still like him makes your blood boils. You hate being weak for someone who doesn’t deserve your once of care.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
You suddenly look up, noticing your vision has turned hazy due to the tears welling up in your eyes. You swiftly wipe them with a tissue, and notice that it is Hoseok standing in front of you. You put up a forced smile for reassurance. “I’m fine. Sorry, I know I am being weird at your party.”
“Hey, you’re not the first. I just want to check why a pretty girl such as you is doing alone in the kitchen.” He smiles widely, showing the pearly whites that are so contagious you have to smile as well. “Are you okay?”
You wince. Do you really have to lie for this one? Hoseok is a stranger, so there should be no issue in telling him what really is going on in your mind, right? And you are literally crying, it’s obvious you are not okay. “Not really. I kinda feel the worst right now.”
“What happened? Just broke up with your boyfriend?”
You bit your lips at his statement, because something inside of you just wants to share your feelings and thoughts to someone, albeit a stranger—that’s just how desperate you are. The fact that you have been caging it inside your chest for the whole two weeks really frustrates your whole being. “Not really a breakup, but you can call it like that.”
Hoseok smiles, patting your shoulder and squeezing it encouragingly. “You know what? I think you are a strong girl. I don’t know much about you, but I can tell just that. You’ll get through this. He is probably a jerk who doesn’t know what he’s missing. It’s his loss.”
“Well, it’s hard to say. Since he clearly states that he is not looking for anything but short fun.” You say involuntarily, still not knowing why you have to explain it in detail to someone you just know. “I just think that after a month hanging out, and how he did anything he shouldn’t do for just anyone else, I thought I was kinda special you know?” You wince at your desperate words. God, you must have sounded like a stuck up, delusional helpless bitch.
Hoseok nods in clear understanding. “Wow, that’s a lot to process. Do I know who this guy is? Does he go to this college too?”
You solemnly chuckle, sipping on your drinks. Ironic. “You know him so well. Too well, I think.”
Hoseok eyes glint in amusement. “Wow, I see. So, you wanna drink outside and talk? Might make you feel better.” He kindly offers, and you raise your left eyebrow. It was out of your expectation for him to be treating you with such care. “I know it’s weird and we just know each other. But somehow I just feel like I can’t leave you like this. You can reject it if you’re uncomfortable.”
“Really? You just want to listen to me talk about my annoying love problems, just like that?” You look at him weirdly, and he shrugs.
“Kinda? I am not really busy, might as well listen to your ‘annoying love problems’. Besides, I’m only letting you know this—there is going to be a surprise in nearly midnight. I wanna lay low to prepare myself for that.” He giggles, pouring him another drink and offering to yours. You nod, directing your glass.
“Really? Not so you can take advantage of a heartbroken girl and get something-something instead?”
He holds his hand to his chest, faking a shock. “I—I’m not like that!” and then he continues with a cunning grin. “But feel free to, if you want. Who am I, a mere mortal to refuse a kiss from such a pretty girl like you?”
You giggle at his exaggerating words, and follow him to the outside of the frat, walking to take a seat on the wall patio—you remember this, the exact place Jungkook confessed to your best friend. The heartfelt, one-of-a-kind moment that literally leaves you breathless just listening to it. You know you are sincerely happy for them, yet involuntarily you are slightly envious. Will you ever get someone who loves you like that? And now you are stuck liking a fuckboy. Damn.
“You look beautiful, by the way.” Hoseok smiles charmingly, right after both of you are safely seated. You look up to him in questions. “It’s nothing—I just think it would be a crime not to compliment someone this beautiful.”
You sneer at his flirtatious words, but are unable to hold back the smile. “Thank you, Hoseok. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“So, tell me about this jerk. No worry, you can censor the guy if you are uncomfortable.” Hoseok continues, still with his trademark wide smile. You chuckles, then proceed to tell him the story of you and Taehyung with lots of things censored—mostly the things you feel inappropriate to talk to him, especially Taehyung’s secret and stories. And just talking to him makes you realize Hoseok could be the greatest listener ever. He doesn’t rebut, just sit there while attentively listening to your stories while giving his short opinion once in a while.
The night is relatively warm, but the thing that makes you anxious while talking is how uncomfortably short your dress is, especially while sitting on a freaking patio wall. Hoseok must have noticed your gesture, and voluntarily discards his jacket and settles it on your lap. You mutter your small thank you and smile, before he asking you to continue the story.
“So, somehow by your story, I get that you like this guy who I think likes you, but is allergic to relationships?” Hoseok asks and you quickly shake your head in shame.
“No! It’s not it—but I still don’t know if he likes me or not. I just… I just assume that way.”
“But he told you he is the most comfortable with you and wants to be selfish until you find someone else.” Hoseok snorts, disliking the fact that he has to say that to himself. “I don’t really know this guy, Y/N, but he sounds like a jerk that needs a fact check. How can someone be so in denial?”
You fidget your fingers. “But there is a chance he doesn’t like me—”
“If what you’re saying is true, I don’t think he’s playing. He might even like you, Y/N. He does.” Hoseok firmly states. “I know this guy is insensitive as hell, but maybe he needs that one fact directly on his face? I know that it may not make sense—but you haven’t really confessed, Y/N. You are beating around the bush, and this guy may be dense as hell and need that straight to his face.”
You groan, listening to something that definitely has passed your mind before, but now directly hearing it from someone else is making it real. “Why? Why would I voluntarily hurt myself when I know there is no chance in hell this guy even wants to be in a relationship?”
Hoseok rests his palm on your knees in a soothing manner. “I know it doesn’t make sense—but it’s not for him. It’s for you.” You stare at him back, waiting for him to continue.
“If you don’t confess, you’ll always wonder, Y/N. And based on what you just told me, this feeling you have is quite exhaustive and has a great effect on you which is not really good for your well being. At least, let him close the door on the possibility of being together, and then you’ll know you tried your best? Trust me, I learned it the hard way. You don’t have to repeat my mistake.” He calmly says.
Five minutes spent only with you staring at Hoseok intently that involuntarily makes him blush. “W-what is it? Is there something on my face?”
“Yup. Handsomeness. You’re very attractive, do you know that, Hoseok?” You ask him seriously, and Hoseok is literally too shocked at your forwardness that he nearly falls off the patio wall. “And you are such a great listener. God—how can someone be so perfect?”
Hoseok quickly grabs on the glass of whiskey you have consumed all through the night, finding it now empty. He hisses. “Y/N, don’t say that. You are drunk, and it’s not you right now speaking.”
“It’s me! I’m not drunk. I don’t get drunk, Hoseok. Ever!” You chuckle delightfully, feeling your body and mind are light. Yes, you may be drunk, but it is not till the point you are losing a grip. You are still well aware of the whole situation, even if it's no longer the same sober, shy you. It’s a ten times braver you now in control, and you are happy this side of you are now in control.
You suddenly hug Hoseok, resting your face on his shoulder with your front body is now pressed to his side. “Hey, can we kiss?”
“What?!”
You clack your tongue, frowning in disdain. “I hate that I always think about that bastard’s kiss. Can you kiss me now and help me forget about it?”
“Y/N, you are not you right now, stop—”
Ignoring his warnings, you still proceed to teasingly bite Hoseok’s earlobe, your lips slowly kissing down to his nape trailing down to his collarbone. You don’t know what you are thinking—you must have lost your mind to be this brave. But it really feels good to have Hoseok next to you right now, caring about you with his mindful words and compliments. You miss that feeling of being needed, desperately wishing for every conflict inside your head to just stop.
“Y/N…”
Your lips then rest on Hoseok’s collarbone and suck on it like there’s no tomorrow, his appreciative moan is now heard like music to your ears. It is easy to detect that he is blown away, already far inside pleasure to stop you. But when your fingers shift to open his button, Hoseok quickly stops your hand going further.
“Y/N, no. Let’s not go there. We can kiss, but no further than that.” Hoseok firmly says, more to himself. You are drunk and vulnerable, and he is not taking an advantage of that, no matter how much he is turned on right now. He is not a monster.
You nod still with a frown of dislike for Hoseok’s limitation, resting your palm on his face and pushing yourself closer to him if it’s even possible, pressing his lips with your own. But just after your lips are touching his supple ones, a booming voice is heard from the inside of the dorm, and even your drunken mind can identify who it is calling your name with such anger. Fucking Kim Taehyung.
“What?!” You spit back in the same amount of anger, looking back to Taehyung who is now striding towards you and Hoseok. Looking at the scene, Taehyung is easy to detect your smeared red lipstick on Hoseok’s nape, down to his collarbone which he can detect reddening hickey, and Taehyung really feels his blood boil. He shoves Hoseok away from you, completely flabbergasting the unknowing man.
“What the fuck, Taehyung?!”
Taehyung doesn’t even mind the guy’s bewildered question, focusing on you instead. He can vividly smell the strong scent of alcohol radiating from you, and instinctively scrunch his nose. “Y/N, what are you doing, getting drunk and making out with Hoseok at this time of the night?”
“What the fuck do you care?!” You hiss, pushing him away in disgust. You are about to head for Hoseok and leave the angry man. “Stop following me, ‘platonic best friend’. I can do whoever and whatever I want, don’t stop me.”
Taehyung firmly holds you back by the waist while you try to shove him away. Hoseok really is about to help you, but he is quick to understand the fact that the man that has been bothering your mind is indeed his frat brother, Taehyung. That’s the reason he quickly left the scene with no further question asked.
“Y/N, stop doing this, please.” Taehyung begs, and you are literally too weak to fight against his strong effort of stopping you. “I know it’s nothing, you can do anything you want. But, not now. Not like this.”
At his words, you suddenly burst to tears. It’s really hard to see him again right now, exactly when you are doing your best effort to forget him. “I don’t want to see you. I hate you..”
Taehyung winces, but otherwise smiles. “That, we can agree. I hate myself too.”
You scrunch and shake your head, slightly drunkenly. Your finger jabs to his firm chest. “No, don’t hate yourself. I am the one who is supposed to hate you.”
Taehyung looks at you warmly, his eyes drinking your appearance like it’s never enough. Oh, how much he misses seeing you again. You are possibly the best thing that ever happened to him, and you can’t even imagine how struggling he is for the past two weeks. He felt angry, dejected, he tried everything to get you off his head, yet he couldn’t. Nothing feels right. No amount of drinks, or girls could par to the moment when he had you beside him, talking to you animatedly and seeing you be happy. He really tried his hardest to suppress the feeling, because you told it yourself. You want him to stop. You want him away.
“You are an idiot.” You sob, now move and circle your arm around his waist, closing your eyes. Taehyung can feel his heartbeat rapidly rise, your face just inches away from him. “I hate you. You are an idiot. How can you do this to me…”
Exactly ten minutes staying with you and his arm, Taehyung finally concludes after you are now weak, brain soaked in alcohol. “Let’s get you home.” Taehyung whispers, trying to get you to move, which fails miserably because you instantly fall on your knees and scrape your skin. You wince in pain which shoots to your twisted ankle, all because the godforsaken pumps that have been killing your feet ever since you wore it.
Seeing you crying in pain, he immediately looks down to check on the injured ankle. Noticing that albeit not concerning, you are still unable to walk on your feet especially with those silly heels you are wearing. He instantly scoops you to get on his back. Noticing that your mini dress has ridden right to your upper leg, he effortfully squats to grab a shirt laid on your before, which high possibility belonged to Hoseok due to the distinctive brand. He hiss, then uses it to hide your exposed thigh.
“Y/N, don’t get drunk again and wear anything like this again. Such hassle.” Taehyung sincerely begs, but you are far too drunk, the amount of alcohol in your blood has completely taken over your consciousness—you become sleepy. “Let’s go.”
Taehyung really doesn’t have any other mind or care other than taking you far away from his frat, so that’s how he decided to piggyback you to his car while carelessly passing inside his frat house which was filled with people animatedly enjoying the party. That’s also exactly how people literally stop whatever they are doing, instead paying all of their attention to the peculiar person piggybacking someone else crossing the room.
With not much thought, Taehyung carefully rests you on the passenger side of his car, securely putting on the seatbelt while you mumble incoherent things, eyes still fluttering closed. Looking at your serene sleeping face, he is unable to bite back a smile—probably the first sincere smile he had since two weeks ago. He carefully tucks you in, caressing the side of your face carefully not to wake you up, before closing the door.
He is about to walk to the driver side, right when someone hastily walks out of the frat house and yells at him. Jung Hoseok.
“Hey, where are you taking her?!” Hoseok shouts, and Taehyung annoyedly rolls his eyes and decides to ignore the older man. He takes a seat and about to drive off, but when his eyes detect something unwelcome is still placed inside his car, he quickly grabs the item and throws it to Hoseok.
“Thanks, but it is unnecessary.” Taehyung smirks, flipping the man off before getting ready to drive off. Hoseok huffs in disbelief, walking to grab the pavement, where Taehyung carelessly throws his high branded jacket.
“Fuck you, Taehyung you ungrateful bastard! This is Balenciaga!”
*
Deciding that it would be greatly improper for him to take you back to your parent’s place drunk, injured and wearing an unconservative dress, Taehyung decides to bring you to his new apartment downtown, near Han River. It was quite a shameful road as well, to be bringing a drunk, injured girl back to his apartment—he has to endure the judgemental looks thrown at him, but he really doesn’t give a shit about those judgemental minds.
He carefully lay you back on his bed. There’s no other furniture here beside his bed, widescreen plasma TV with xbox, a small couch and his closet, since the movers are going to move the rest of the furniture tomorrow. That’s how he has to lay you back on his comfortable, plain white bed with his favorite grey fur blanket—which he admittedly bought after that time of your first encounter of staying the night in your apartment and using your comfortable blanket.
After seeing you are well rested on the bed, Taehyung grabs a medicine box that is placed on the corner of his room, courtesy of his building’s super. He grabs few of the requirements; bandages, cold ice for compress, and few of the ointment Jungkook mentioned before when he was injured during sports. Still in his tight ass jeans, he forces himself to try in tending your injury, all so careful like he is taking care of a newborn baby. Once in a while you would frown, groan when the pain shoots up, but finally the job is done, your ankle is now bandaged and waiting to heal while you are still mumbling, your face buried on the pillow.
Taehyung looks at you in silence, before a smile reaches his lips. “You baby.” He affectionately scolds, flicking his fingers to your forehead. You whimper, pouting while massaging your forehead.
“Stop interrupting me. Aaah why is this so tight—” You complain in frustration, suddenly raise up and zipping off your tight dress.
At your sudden, unpredictable motions, Taehyung is quick to jump outside of the bed, running to his closet to grab a shirt and pants for you to wear, throwing it to you, still not opening his eyes. “Wear this.” He says nervously with his cheeks blazing red.
A few adequate seconds, Taehyung spins, expecting you to be safely secured wearing his plain t-shirt, but instead you are still in your black lacy bra and underwear, now zooming off to dreamland. He hisses still bashful, walking up to you and motioning you to sit up.
“I’m sleepy, don’t bother me..” You refuse with a pout, but the more seconds pass, the more red Taehyung is. He is trying to focus on the task on hand, scoops you right by a hand on your back, helping you to wear his shirt. You instantly laid back in his bad, probably already zooming off to dreamland.
A few minutes pass, Taehyung spends only by admiring your existence now in front of him, wearing his shirt. He never liked it before—women wear his shirt, especially his favorite celine one you are wearing right now in your sleep—but he seriously thinks you look better with it than he does. How can you be so effortlessly pretty is beyond him. But who is he kidding? You are different, he should’ve known. You literally are the only girl who successfully made him break his platinum rules only in a span of 24 hours—you are just that special.
Realizing that it is improper for him to sleep beside you—supported by the fact that you are drunk and was literally furiously angry with him before, Taehyung decides to use the small couch as his place to sleep tonight; no matter how tired he is throughout the day, especially carrying you nearly all the way to finally rest peacefully. He is about to exit the room, when your fingers clasped on his wrist to hold him back.
“Where are you going?” You whispers, your eyes are gleaming solemnly. It successfully made something stir inside him—regret, hate and pain. “Are you leaving me?”
“No, of course not. I’ll be outside, Y/N. Get some rest.” He responds softly, caressing the side of your face. He cannot understand what he is feeling by seeing how broken you look right now. Why are you this sad? Do you hate him? Are you ashamed of him? He really wants to know yet simultaneously despise finding out if it will only hurt him.
“Can’t you stay?” You whisper, the tears are already lounging in the corner of your eyes. “I know you don’t like me, Taehyung. You may hate me too—but can you please stay? This once?”
“What are you—why would I hate you, Y/N…” He calmly explains, even if in his head he is in war. How could you think he hated you? He is the furthest from hate for you, that’s for sure. He likes you so much, even after the hurt you caused him when you closed him off and refused him that day. He will always adore you.
“Stay.” You plead. “Stay here.”
And looking at your eyes now desperately pointed at him, how can he refuse? Carefully climbing up his bed, he takes the farthest side of the bed, careful not to make physical contact with you. All because he couldn’t believe himself around you, and how crazy you make him.
Taehyung is trying hard to close his eyes—with his heartbeat still echoes on his ear—but still failing so. He turns to steal a glance at you, and finds that you are not sleeping anymore, instead staring at him. He immediately squirms at the intensity of your gaze.
“You know, you should get some sleep, sweetheart. Your head must be killing you in the morning.” He advises, now braving himself to look back at you. “I hope some food and aspirin can cure it. I’ll buy it first thing in the morning.”
“Do you care about me?”
At that sudden question, Taehyung is taken aback, but instinctively nods without further thinking. “Of course. I care about you so much. I care about you the most in this whole world.”
“Are you lying?” You innocently ask and Taehyung chuckles in amusement, shaking his head.
“What do you think of Hoseok? Does he care about me?”
Taehyung instinctively hisses, rolling his eyes at the mention of the annoying man’s name out of your lips. “Why would he care about you? He only wants to sleep with you and never call back the next day. You deserve more than that.”
You pout and shake your head. “But when I kissed him he said he doesn't want to sleep with me while I’m drunk. He must be nice, right?”
At that thought, Taehyung feels his throat dry. Yes, Hoseok could be one of the brothers he respected the most. He is kind, hard-working and respectful with everyone. But at the thought of the previous kiss you shared with him, Taehyung is unable to hold back the shock and betrayal—like a ton of bricks falling at his chest. He hates the thought so much he would do anything to erase the image in his head. But how can it explain it to you without sounding like a weirdo? He doesn’t even understand his feelings.
“He is nice..” Wow, he doesn’t even know it would be that hard. “But I think you can do better.”
You sigh, closing your eyes tiredly and Taehyung never felt more like an idiot before. “I don’t think I can do better. I don’t have many options, unlike you. I know it must be easy for you to be wanted by so many girls. I bet you are over the moon.”
Taehyung frowns at your easily detected sarcastic statement. “Not really. I don’t know why everyone thinks like that.”
You look at him with indecipherable expression. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think they make me happy.” Taehyung hesitantly asks, uncertain whether he is able to say what he really wants to say without sounding like an idiot. “They left me in hollowness, I think. I always feel… like the worst person ever after. At one point I even ask what the fuck am I doing with my life..”
At his sincere confession, you reach out to rest your palm on the side of his face. Taehyung instinctively leans to your touch and closes his eyes, savoring the warmth engulfing his being, right from head to toe. He doesn’t know what magic you did to him now that you are able to comfort him without even doing a thing. “You are confused, but nevertheless are doing the best you can. You just need to make better choices from now on. It’s okay..”
You know it doesn’t probably say much, but your sentences literally make him struggle to handle the tears. To hear it from someone that matters the most could be the most rewarding thing he ever received in life. “You are seriously heaven sent. I don’t know what I would do without you.” He whispers calmly, turning his face to peck your palm.
You sigh, lips pouting at him. “Stop confusing me, you bastard.”
“What—”
“Stop making me feel special if you don’t mean it to be. I have feelings too.” You mutters, now eyes are reddening in tears. “You don’t understand what you have done to me. You confuse me, Taehyung.”
The response is already at his tongue, but he doesn’t know what’s holding him back. Probably the fact that he can’t even say anything coherent to you right now. Or the fact that you have turned your back on him.
That night, Taehyung is left with his own, agonizing thoughts.
What do you mean by that?
*
The morning has finally arrived, you wake up groaning, feeling the sudden pang on your head due to too much drinking. Your tolerance is usually pretty low, so it’s even a surprise you manage to confidently consume the amount you drank yesterday. You must be that stressed about finals—or Taehyung.
You glance to the front of you, noticing the empty white walls that are greatly unfamiliar with. You shoot your head down, noticing a familiar blanket on your grasp but—what the fuck are you wearing right now? Taehyung’s favorite white overpriced Celine shirt, with no pants worn. You are trying to move, and the pain in your ankle suddenly shoots up and you wince. What the fuck happened last night?
And… whose arm is now safely secured on your waist?
You try looking back slowly, finding the face of the man that literally catch your breath. It’s Taehyung. It’s literally Taehyung, deep in his sleep with his head buried on the pillow, his arms safely tightened around your waist and his chest is glued on your back. Fuck, what did you do last night?!
Suddenly, the memory comes back like a train wreck. You picked up a maroon tight dress. You walk inside Taehyung’s frat. You cry because you see Taehyung with a girl. Hoseok came and console you. You… you made out with him. Taehyung finds you and gets you home, but then you sprain your ankle due to your pumps. Yet after that, all memories are in pieces you had a hard time putting it together. You wince, cursing your idiocy.
Probably aware of how fidgety you have been inside his arms, Taehyung stirs in his lips, his eyes reluctantly opened to find you are still there. He mumbles, closing his eyes as he buries his face inside your hair. “Good morning.”
You sigh, feeling severely confused at his sudden affectionate gesture. Just last night you were agonizing over whether you wanted to break the two weeks record of not contacting each other, but one day you wake up and are sleeping together—hopefully not in that way. What happened?
“Good morning, Taehyung.” You answer while trying to pronounce it calmly, trying your best not to kick his arm away from you. You really do not want to overthink it. “I need to use your toilet.”
Taehyung nods, but is yet to release the strong grip around you. You clear your throat, cheek turning red. “Your arm, please.”
“Ah, yes. Sorry.” He mutters, instantly distancing his arm. You jump and stride to the toilet with the pants laid on your side as fast as you can with the sprained ankle. Look at your messed up make ups—smudge mascara and eyeliner, uneven foundation, your smeared lipstick! You didn't even wash it yesterday, looking literally like a mess. How can Taehyung be able to see you and not puke?
Two minutes of washing your face and mouthwash due to the reeking smell of alcohol, followed by five minutes of pep talk in front of the mirror, you walk out to the smell of cooked omelette. The scent immediately gurgles your starving stomach, and you realize you haven’t been eating even before you drank last night. Not a surprise, though, since it is not the first time you being literally a living, forgetful idiot.
“You cook.” You mutter the oh-so-obvious fact, and Taehyung beams at you, gesturing for you to take a seat.
“I just thought since you or your family has been very kind and offered me free food, I should try to at least repay it. I know it may not be that delicious, but I made soup and omelette. Hope you are hungry.” He smiles and you nod hesitantly, but following his orders regardless of the confusion.
“Taehyung… What happened last night?” You ask slowly when Taehyung is still stirring the pot. “Did… did I do something stupid?”
Taehyung shakes his head. “Well, besides getting drunk, making out with one of frat boys and injuring your ankle? Not much.”
You hiss, knowing that now it literally made sense how dangerous you are while intoxicated. It’s better to avoid those parties—better buy some alcohol and drink alone inside your room. “I know that, but other than that. Did we.. Did we do something? Or did I say something idiot? If I did, you know I probably did not mean it—it’s just a drunken thought.”
“Not really.” He smiles in assurance. “And we did not do anything, of course. You immediately sleep when you get here. Sorry I brought you here without your consent—I was about to take you back to your parents house, but I guess they would be shocked to see you… like this.”
You shudder at the thoughts of your parents catching you drunk and wearing provocative dresses. They’d immediately ground you like you’re still in elementary school. “Thank you—that’s a great choice. I am sorry again, if I was such a hassle yesterday.”
Taehyung hums, and you don’t exactly know what to say next, so you just focus on the grey wall right in front of you. You despise how awkward it has been to be just the two of you with him—as it never really happened before. “So.. is this your apartment?”
Taehyung nods, while pouring the soup to bowls. “Yes. You know I sold my previous apartment, and in return I bought this one.”
You nod, as you remember hearing it before. “It’s nice.”
Taehyung rests the bowl of soup and a plate of omelette and rice on the floor. “Sorry, I haven’t moved my table to this apartment yet. I never eat in my apartment, actually so I did not think it would be necessary to prioritize my dining table to be moved.”
You smile and walk off your seat to sit in front of him on the floor. “It’s okay, this is more than enough. I’m just happy I can finally eat. I was starving, you know.”
Taehyung giggles at your statement. “Yes, you were drunk to your ass. But it’s okay.” He hums. “I like taking care of you.”
You smile with hesitance at his familiar, affectionate words, but decide to disregard the emotion running through your head. You literally owe him so much you will do everything not to ruin or make everything awkward with him again. And to be here with him, you are happy even though you’re hurting. But it’s better this way rather than throw yourself back inside your room, crying miserably and never coming out, like the past two weeks.
“I also want to apologize, Y/N. That day I was so caught up in my own feelings and.. And I disregard your own. I know what I did and say to you is overwhelming, and you have all right to put a limit on it.” Taehyung whispers in deep regret. You gaze at him who is now avoiding your prodding eyes. “I’ll do anything to make you comfortable with me. But please, please don’t push me away.”
In his apology, you find every resolve or defense you have for him is crumbling down. He is still insensitive to your feelings, but you accept it otherwise. Just because you want him back. You’ll try your best, even if it practically kills you to be around him. “I’m fine, Taehyung. Yes, I apologize too. I was not in my best mood as well, and of course I want things to be back as before with you.”
Taehyung grins widely from ear to ear, completely over the moon of your statement. The weight on his shoulder is lifted, and he can finally breathe without torture. “Thank you.”
You nod with the same smile, scooping a spoon for soup and rice inside your mouth. You instinctively hum at the distinct, wonderful taste on your taste buds. “Wow, this is amazing! I didn’t know you could cook!”
Taehyung chuckles, scratching his nape shyly. “Yeah. It’s my grandmother's recipe, I found it in her books after she passed away. Have been using it and I just.. I am glad you like it.”
The warm smile is still formed on your lips, and Taehyung unknowingly pushed his strands out of his forehead. You feel your heart pound faster, the butterfly inside your stomach knocking on your senses. How can someone be gorgeous?With a smile on his face, the red tingling on his cheek, and the way he only looks at you right now. Is it fair for mortals like you to see him like this?
“What.. Is there something in my face?” He asks shyly for noticing your blatant stare, and you blushes hard, realizing that you indeed have been spending some time just admiring his face. God, you are losing your mind.
“I just.. I am glad to see you again.” You whisper truthfully, the urge to speak whatever is in your mind is too heavy to deny. You need to let him know at least that. No matter how your sanity is forbidding you to. Who are you to deny what you feel? You don’t want to hurt him and yourself again by putting up the wall in between.
“I miss you, Taehyung.”
Taehyung can hold back his toothy smile at your reddening cheeks, his heart soaring at the remarks that have been going through his mind the first time he saw you yesterday. Is it real? Is it a dream? Is it really you, in front of him, saying the things he long to hear the most?
“Me too.” He whispers, holding back the urge to hug you again, to throw his feelings on the table, afraid that it would scare you again. “You can’t possibly understand how much I missed talking to you, hearing your voice again. Let’s don’t do it again, shall we? Let’s not fight.”
You hum in all agreement, then proceed to continue eating. “I don’t even know why you insist on me packing you food. These are delicious. You are a great cook, Tae.” You sincerely compliment.
Taehyung, still among his deep thoughts gazes at you happily munching on the food he made, and he is conflicted beyond words. Something passed through his mind—the word he has been thinking all night. It’s what you deserve. It’s what he wanted to do. So why is it so hard for him to say the word?
Stop making me feel special if you don’t mean it to be. I have feelings too.
“Let’s go on a date.”
Listening to the word you would never thought to come out of his mouth, you shake your head in disbelief, then sigh. If he is joking, it’s not even remotely funny. “Taehyung, what are you saying…”
Taehyung stares at you in all sincerity, his heart beating so fast he could even hear it echoing in his ear. He is nervous beyond words, palm sweating profusely like he is about to do something dangerous to his life. But it is. He is serious.
“I know you always want to go on a great first date. Let’s do it. With me.”
You look at him in evident doubt, sensing a bit of annoying hope rising in your chest. Is he really serious right now? Kim Taehyung, the fuckboy who is literally allergic to relationships, is asking you out on a date?
“Taehyung, don’t joke with me—” You shifted on your seat, and Taehyung swiftly holds your hand, looking at you in determination.
“I’m not. Let me prove it to you. Go on a date with me.”
That’s how it happened. You are now sitting in front of the mirror in your room that afternoon, getting for your first date with Taehyung. After eating breakfast at his place, he takes you back to your home, promising that he would pick you up in another two hours. You actually think about going straight on a date to just get it over with—your pessimistic mind was literally thinking the date would end in a complete disaster, it’s better to do it fast and quick—but Taehyung refused, wanting everything to be perfect.
“I can just wear your shirt or my red dress if I have to. It’s okay, we can just go now.” You complained when you were still in his apartment, motioning to your very impropriety now—wearing Taehyung’s shirt and pants with smudged makeup. Taehyung clicked his tongue in distaste of your stubbornness.
“No! I know sweetheart, you still look great in that shirt of mine. But I need some time to prepare everything. I want this first date to be perfect.” He reasoned, and you could feel the nerves bubbling in your chest. No. By every effort you and him put in this so-called first date, the more your dim hope will be lit on fire and you knew it could only result in huge disappointment. Even though you were not going to avoid Taehyung anymore, going on this great first date he mentioned is a recipe of disaster and heartbreak. How are you going to keep everything still in its place when it's clear as a day you’ll like him even more—if it’s even possible?
So you decide to go simple. You are wearing a lilac drawstring top, a matching sky blue boyfriend jeans and a pair of t-strap flats that goes with the whole dress theme. You even put on a light makeup, and the whole time you are preparing cannot slow down the rush in your vein, your head turns dizzy at the amount or nerves in your senses. You are never this nervous for a mere date—or even remotely anything.
While you are busy pep talking yourself for the nth time already, your phone rings, signaling Taehyung’s call on your phone. You swipe green to answer. “Hello?”
“Hi, Y/N. I am already outside, and I can see your father tending your garden and he is calling me right now. Come down, yeah? Don’t wanna be late on our first date.” He affectionately whispers, and you can literally imagine the toothy, boxy smile on his lips. You hum as an acknowledgement, closing the call to grab your mini purse and walk down to your parents.
Descending down the stairs, you can see Taehyung in your yard, laughing with your father. Your heart immediately turns warm, your palm turns clammy at the heartwarming sight. You quickly clear your throat, walking to their side.
“Hi.” You greet him with a shy smile, and when finding you just a few feets away from him, his eyes immediately lightens, a wide smile follows. He instinctively raises his hand for you to grab, and you are hesitant to grab it, but noticing that your father is present as well, you welcome it.
“Hi, Y/N. You look wonderful today.” He compliments, taking your hand closer to his side. Your dad is now smiling at the gesture—and you are unable to conceal the heat blossoming in your cheek. “Are you ready to go?”
“Come home safely, okay? Let me know if you’re back late.” Your father advises with an approving smile, and something literally stirs inside of you at how supportive he is right now with the fact that you are about to go on a date with Taehyung. Your fake boyfriend nods with determination, does a ninety-degree bow to your father and directs you to his car.
“Where are we going right now?” You ask in evident excitement after seated in his car that successfully sends jitters all over Taehyung’s body. He bit his lower lips and sent you a wink, a smirk formed on his lips. The shyness immediately emerges to your head that you need to hastily turn your face away, feeling the familiar warmth embracing your face.
“Why would I spoil the date to you, hmm? Seems you gotta be patient with this one, sweetheart.”
You shrug your shoulders, heart leaping fast inside your chest while trying to focus on anything but Taehyung and the fact that you are about to have a date with him. But when his fingers suddenly embrace your petite ones and link each finger perfectly with his own, pull and rest it against his thigh,you nearly lose your breath. Is he seriously doing this to you right now?
“Shall we go?” He smiles with a faint hue of red on his cheek, and you respond with a weak nod, trying not to make a fool of yourself even further.
During the road, you can not be more thankful to the fact that Taehyung put on a great effort to make everything comfortable to you. He is literally acting the same, talking animatedly about his frat brothers and the past weeks with Bee Gees song in the background, and the only difference is not even one he lets go of your hand clasped on his. At that time, you hear the loud warning in your head that is pointing about how everything is going to end in a total disaster if you keep opening up to him—But you despise listening to that annoying voice anymore.
Taehyung is clearly trying his best now, and the fact that he even wanted to have a date with you and prepare everything beforehand is a great progress. Even though you don’t exactly know why or how he is doing all this romantic gesture, you desperately want to try this with him. And even if it fails, you know you won’t regret a thing. Because at least you tried, right?
After twenty minutes on the road, Taehyung finally parks the car and looks up to you in a smile. “Here we are.”
“Where are we?” You query while clasping off your seat belt in amusement at his gesture.
“So I was thinking exactly what we should do for this date. But then I remembered you actually listed all your dream favorite dates, and I just copied it from there. Sorry, I am not really original.” He chuckles shyly while getting off the car, walking to hold your hand again so you won’t fall in your slightly injured ankle.
“It’s okay.” You giggle and welcome his grasp. “I don’t even remember what I said, actually.”
“Good! Because we are now taking a cooking class.” He informs enthusiastically, and your eyes widen in surprise. “Couple cooking classes, to be exact. Sorry I didn’t register us separately, since I know you injured your ankle so I will be the one at your service!” He chuckles while giving you a salute and you giggle.
“Are you going to use my ankle as an excuse, now?” You ask in amusement. He mischievously chuckles and pouts.
“Yup, it’s because I want to cook with you. You happy?” But against his expectation of snarky comments, you nod with a shy smile. And it takes massive amount of self-control to stop himself from kissing your supple cheek. He took a deep breath—hopefully nothing can go south with his usual lack of control.
When you are already seated in the class while Taehyung is standing up beside you—due to your slightly aching ankle, he whispers. “I didn’t really tell you this, but we will be making Mexican Food. You will like it.”
You gaze to him strangely—as you really don’t recall telling him you like Mexican Food. “You know I like Mexican Food?”
“Of course. You said that when we first met, that double date with Jungkook.” He explains like it's the most normal thing and it feels like a knock in the stomach to know that he remembered something from that lackluster date a few months ago. How can he remember that small detail? Did he seriously address that as a double date now? You were literally nothing to him but a nuisance, and he used to puke about the idea of it being a double date.
“You don’t remember?” He asks, raising the left eyebrow.
Your throat dry, but let out a weak reply. “Kind of. Just surprised you would remember that.”
Taehyung rests his chin on top of your head, caressing it softly without sensing your clear rigid changes. “Of course I remember. How can I forget?”
When he says those words you never thought you would hear ever, you never feel more conflicted before. This is dangerous. This is getting to real. You don’t know what would happen if this goes on.
So when the cook who will be teaching you to Mexican Food arrives, you are more than pleased. At least you will have a distraction other than thinking what the fuck Taehyung meant with all he says and does. “Good afternoon, everyone! Today we are going to create Prawn & Chorizo Quesadilla for Appetizer, Chicken & Bean Enchiladas for Main Course and Flan Cake that would be a perfect palate cleanser for dessert. Let’s start!”
That’s how you’ll spend the next two and a half hours cooking with Taehyung, and you do notice how bossy and competitive he can be—does not want to lose to the couple in front of you which is foolish. They literally are not doing anything right, only focus on hugging and kissing. It is a delightful surprise though, as you totally can relate to that nonsense competitiveness he has, so you follow his orders to divide tasks and jobs. So while you are during kneading the pasta for the quesadilla in deep focus, you are startled when Taehyung smears the flour to your face.
“You know, the instructor came to me and said we were too focused on cooking instead of working together as a couple.” He murmurs with an obvious amusement, and you are unable to hold a giggle as well. It’s true though, you haven’t really been communicating for the last thirty minutes other than asking what you should do next or if you are doing this or that right. You and Taehyung also are basically a distance away from each other, a total contrast to the other couples that can’t seem to get their hands off each other.
“I don’t know why they are thinking we should be hugging or kissing in public areas like this. We spend money here to cook, not to make out—we can do that at home.” You defend yourself, still focused on the dough in front of you. Nonchalant to the fact that Taehyung is now staring at you with mirth for your blatant words.
“You are very, very cute. Do you know that?” He purrs all of a sudden, and you look up to him in confusion. You’re cute? That’s very peculiar. “But they do have a point—let’s at least give them what they want. Hmm?”
So at that time, Taehyung swiftly moves to kiss the flour right on your cheek, and you are too shocked to even respond or even move. After a whole ten second, you are able to send Taehyung a glare who is now giggling at your befuddled expression while continuing mixing the sauce for your appetizer and pretending nonchalance. You sigh, moving to proceed to knead the dough again, your brain is literally on fire due to the sudden attack. It is so difficult to think straight now. All because of this jerk, yet you know you are not complaining.
Another fifteen minutes before he speaks up. “Hey. I finished the sauce for quesadilla. Would you like to try?” He asks while offering you a spoon of sauce. You comply by opening up your mouth, letting the sauce enter your mouth and fill it with the unbelievably amazing taste.
“This is amazing!” You squeal in compliments, cannot believe that he created something so delicious and matches with your preference of spicy food. “But this is a bit spicy, are you okay? You don’t like spicy food.”
“You know it! What a nice surprise.” He beams, eyes crinkling cutely. Of course you remember, you have been eating with him and packing him lunch since months ago. You’d be crazy not to remember the first few days, you put an extra chili in his lunch box and he complained to you he got a digestion problem. “Yup, it’s a tad bit too spicy for me, but I’m okay. I want you to like it.”
“Nooo, I am okay with less spicy too! I don’t want you getting a stomach ache in the middle of our date.” You joke and smile comfortingly, but Taehyung still hesitates while looking at the bowl of sauce. “Seriously, Tae. I’m fine. If you’re happy, I am happy too.”
He is now red beet shy, pushing strands of the hair on his forehead which you can now easily identify as him being nervous. “Hey.. That’s supposed to be my line..”
“Sorry, bro. I am claiming it right now.”
You are mixing the flan cake batter in full concentration, where suddenly a sound of click is heard. You quickly see him giggling whilst looking at his screen, and you snort almost immediately. He must have taken a shot of you while you are in deep focus. “Hey, that’s not nice—let me see that!”
He quickly put his hand up straight, so your petite frame is unable to reach. You pout, trying to use his shoulder as a helper but it is waste in vain. “I would let you see. Only if you give me a kiss.”
You sneer, immediately go back to your seat. “No thanks. I’d rather shot myself.”
“Come on, Y/N! Just a kiss for your date, hmm?” You scrunch your nose in disgust, glaring at him while he innocently throws his gaze around the room. “Please? Pleaseeeee?”
You sigh in surrender, gesturing for him to come closer. He happily strides closer, and you shyly clear your throat, securing your fingers around his jaw. “You’re a jerk.” You hiss bitterly and he chuckles.
But as you inch closer to his left cheek, he quickly turns his face and pecks you in the lips. Completely taken aback to the fact that you just kissed, you instinctively punch him with all your might, right on the chest and send him to a coughing fit. “What the—why did you hit me?!”
“Because you kissed me without my consent!” Even though the surprise is quite nice, you are not really into public display of affection. It’s just not for you. But you know Taehyung had zero rights to be treated like that when he really means well. “I’m sorry, it was just a reflex. I didn’t mean to, sorry.”
Realizing that you literally feel the overwhelming guilt for your reaction to the kiss, Taehyung nods and pat your head in agreement. “It’s okay. It’s my fault too, I should’ve known you better than that. But at least be gentler next time you punch me, hmm? Cause I seriously can see it coming. Soon, even.”
At his clear joke you can finally smile and continue cooking. But then the sound of silent laughter from the couple in the row behind you, a large possibility at the scene that enfolds with the both of you is heard and Taehyung literally is too ashamed to even look up. He literally made a fool of himself to be refused by his own partner among the couple in cooking class. He is indeed a moron.
Noticing just what happened, you feel guilty beyond words and send the couple a glare that makes them literally silent. You huff loudly, and pull Taehyung closer to your side. “Hey.. hey. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He mums, still with a childish pout in his lips. Seeing him right now, you are unable to divert your attention from his supple cheeks which are still too red to be true, and it was too inviting to let you kiss it. So that’s why you let yourself to just do it—you land a kiss on his cheek. Taehyung smiles at your obvious encouragement.
“Hey, let’s save the kiss for later, hmm?” You whispers, carefully helping him fix the messy strands on his forehead. He reluctantly nods, gazing down at you. He seriously couldn’t care less about the turds laughing at them—he can only focus on the warmth in your eyes, he is just unable to look away. How can you be so lovely?
Another hour and the three dishes are finally completed. You cannot even believe you are able to complete all the dishes, and the visual is outstanding—you sincerely cross your fingers they would taste as good as they look. “I can’t believe we did this! This is amazing Tae.” You squeal, trying to take a shot of the food you cooked with Taehyung as much as possible aesthetic as possible. He beams, focused on you and you only.
“Do you want to take a picture together? We can ask the instructor to take it for us.” He asks and you instantly nod in agreement. “Let’s use my phone.” Taehyung offers the phone from his pocket and you receive it, accidentally turning it on so you can see the background photo he uses as wallpaper. Your breath immediately hasten, your eyebrows raised near your hairline. Can.. can it be? Is your eyes deceiving your right now?
It’s you. It’s literally you. Taehyung’s background is the photo he took of you the night both of you went to McDonalds, you were shoving four McDonalds nuggets into your mouth as a bet with Taehyung of ten bucks, and he took that for you. He said he deleted it—but it was clearly a lie since he is now using it as a wallpaper.
“Are you okay? Let’s pose, sweetheart, he is waiting.” Taehyung peers at you, noticing the sudden change in your demeanor. Noticing how weird you have been, you clear your throat and try to pose a smile with the food you created. One photo taken, the instructor asks for a change in pose—a more romantic one, as it seems like he is so keen in seeing you act as a couple—then you feel Taehyung’s palm resting on the side of your shoulder, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. At that time, everything feels too overwhelming. What is this? Is this a sign? Does he… Does he finally reciprocate the feelings you have for him? Is he finally ready for something more with you?
As Taehyung receives the phone back and mutters his thanks, he swipes the phone to see the photo taken. You stare at him, all smiley and giggly while swiping the photos. He even shows you one photo—the one he leans to you and says with evident glee, “You look really beautiful here. I like this photo.”
You clearly do not respond in his query, too deep in your own thoughts that Taehyung had to ask. “Are you okay, beautiful? Don’t you like the photos?”
Your throats are dry, but you manage to respond with a nervous smile and fake your enthusiasm. “I’m fine, just—just hungry. Let’s try the food.”
*
After finishing the cooking class, Taehyung is still secretive about the next location you are going to have your date, but you kind of get the idea by the time you are one and a half hour long ride inside his car. Taehyung is taking you further from downtown, and you are quite confident he is taking you to a beach, and it is an hour away from sunset. You try asking about it before, but only given a wink as an answer, which is albeit nice is not helping you out of the dark at all.
“I know we are going to Eurwangni Beach! Since there is no way you’re taking me to an airport which is also near, unless you want to sell my organs. Or are you—”
Taehyung chuckles at your joke and raises his eyebrows, teasing you. “Yup, I’m going to sell your unhealthy, contaminated organs, sweetheart. So treasure this moment with me, it might be the last moment of your life.”
“Unhealthy organs?! The audacity. I bet my organs are more healthy and more expensive than yours.” You scoff, folding your arms on your chest. Taehyung beams and ruffles your hair.
“Be patient, okay? We’re only twenty minutes away.”
Another twenty minutes and you can detect the orange tinge in the sky—the sunset is nearing. Taehyung is vividly looking rushed at the sky as well. “Hey, the sunset is soon! Hop on my back, we are going fast.”
You realize the reason he wants you to hop on is because of your aching ankle. You are positive you can walk, but choose not to argue since he completely looks worried—probably for the possibility of being unable to make it on time. You hop on his back, and he literally runs the second his arms are around your legs. At that, it is difficult to shake off the laughter.
It was fortunate that the place is not too far or you’ll feel guilty. It turns out there is a vacant tent set up on the side of the beach with a carpet set up, two drinks, a bowl of fruit and… two canvas?
Taehyung rests you on the carpet carefully, and he quickly takes a seat beside you . “Taehyung, what is this?” You ask in confusion, noticing he is taking one black duffle bag set on the side. Taehyung chuckles.
“Ah, yes. So you actually listed a beach date on your dream first date, so I am taking you to one. But then I figure since your ankle is injured and to just eat or just talk would be boring, I’m adding a little twist.” Taehyung cunningly smiles, then proceeds to take painting utensils—a brush, paints and other peculiar painting items your uneducated mind is unfamiliar with. “Let’s paint!”
You chuckles in mirth, Taehyung is setting the utensils between the both of you. “I think the sun is setting, we gotta be fast or we should just paint the night sky. Which one do you prefer?” He asks mindlessly, shuffling through the brushes of sizes as you gaze up to him. Something inside of you flutters at how thoughtful he is to the whole date—the fact that he prepared this much for you somehow makes it really hard to remember that he is unfit for someone you can actually trust your heart with.
“I’m okay with everything.” You mumble to him, resting your palm above his own. “But can I ask one thing?” Taehyung easily hums in agreement.
“I want to paint with you. In one canvas.” You shyly look up to him, finding it a bit challenging to speak your mind. “I know I’m not that good, but I really want to paint with you, and talk to you… I am afraid we are going to be too busy with our own paintings, like the cooking class—and I just want to talk with you, actually.”
Taehyung’s eyes are wide as saucers. Are you seriously saying that to him right now? That what you want is to talk to him, and be with him? He seriously considers his hearing is betraying him right now. “I.. of course. That’s a great idea—let’s-let’s do it. So should we paint one for sunset, one for night sky?”
You nod, and Taehyung offers you one brush with a smile. “Let’s do this!”
That’s how you spend the next hour, accompanied by the sound of waves crashing the land, the sun setting beautifully while you and Taehyung are trying to capture the wonderful scenery in front of both of you. The time spent is wonderful, Taehyung telling you about how he finds the wonder of painting. Few years ago, due to the turmoil of his family, he fell into depression and had to go to a psychiatrist. He despised going there at first, but then after a few sessions he finally got a tad bit better and his therapist advised him to paint to help him express the emotions he felt.
“Yup, and after that I spent lots of my free time painting. My previous apartment was filled with my paintings, actually.” He admits with a tinge of shyness coloring his cheek, while his fingers expertly create waves in your shared painting.
“You are amazing with this. I really think you are very talented, Tae. I mean, look at this!” You complained while pointing at your horrendous supposed-to-be dolphin emerging out of water, compared to his beautifully painted one. “Mine looks like a rotten carrot coming out of a wave and yours are literally exotic dolphins found in the Baltics. God, you are making my pride to shame.”
Taehyung wholeheartedly laughs at your silly comparison. “No! Yours look great too for a newbie, sweetie. No artist is built on the first paint, right?”
“So you do think my dolphin is ugly!” You menacingly elbow him in the waist he had to chuckle.
“I’m just taking the word from your own mouth!” He giggles and you sigh exasperatedly, looking at your deranged dolphin slash carrot. “And I told you, baby. You need to use the smaller brush for detailed paintings.”
“I swear I’ll do better in the night sky painting.” You mutter in heavy, unnecessary determination, moving to grab a grape from the bowl of fruit and consume them. “This is amazing. Do you want some?” Taehyung hums, still in deep concentration to salvage the painting you might or might not have ruined, probably due to your lackluster sense of art.
“You know, Tae, I never thought you’d go this far for this date.” You silently address, unable to hold back the impressed expression painted in your face. “My expectation was just a nice lunch and dinner, or even a movie. I never would’ve guessed you’d go through my dream date and actually execute it. I mean—I am very happy now but.. I am just.. I would be happy too with a dinner.”
“I’m just.. I don’t want to bother you, or burden you with my own—”
Listening to your words, Taehyung pauses working on his painting and is quick to hold your hand against his own. “Hey, hey.. I’m more than happy for this date. And it’s not a burden at all.” He whispers, playing with your fingers. “Can’t you see, Y/N? I am very happy. I am happier than I’ve been recently. You know I’m happier with you, always.”
You stare at him, tears are lounging in the corner of your eyes and he continues. “Yes—I know the night would have been perfect if you did not punch me when we were in the cooking class,” You chuckle against the tears. “but that’s okay too. Cause now I get to know you better. So don’t cry, hmm?”
Taehyung takes your hand and kisses the back of your palm. “Don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry, you know it.”
“It’s a cry of happiness.”
Taehyung smiles, moving his thumbs to swipe the remnants of tears on both sides of your cheek. “That is great, but I would prefer a smile or laughter in happiness. Since I want to smile and laugh along with you.”
“You know you are such a ball of cheese today, huh?” You say with amusement and he shrugs with a wink, proceeding to continue the painting.
Another ten minutes and he is finally putting the last touch on his painting. Taehyung squeal in glee, shifting the stands for you to get a better look. “It’s done! It’s finally done.”
“It’s beautiful.” You whisper, looking at the wonderful painting of orange sunset on the sea with dolphins jumping, beautifully painted. But you do realize that some of the mistakes and terribly drawn details you made has not been fixed—especially the dolphin one. “Hey, why did not you fix this carrot? It could’ve been perfect.”
Taehyung shakes his head, looking up to the painting in a longing smile. “Nah. It doesn’t have to be perfect. As long as it’s both you and I together who paints it, it’s already the best painting for me.”
You intensely gaze to him and he replies with the same, indecipherable emotion. He continues. “I’m sorry. I know this day has been too much, but I am glad—”
Looking at those beautiful large eyes of his, letting go of the sanity and following what your heart really wants to do is as easy as blinking an eye. You swiftly cut him with your mouth pressed against him vivaciously, longing to taste his lips again. And not even a second wasted, Taehyung eagerly responds to the kiss, motioning your leg to move and sit on his lap. His luscious lips never taste better, as you run your fingers through his silk hairs, your body pressed to him without even a distance. His tongue is swift in lapping your lips for entrance, and you comply with vivid excitement.
“Baby.. You taste wonderful.” He moans beautifully—exactly music in your ears. Another minute drunk on each other’s taste, you release him with reddening cheeks, grateful to finally take a breath you’ve been longing a long time now. You rest your forehead on his, breathing each other scent in. Your heartbeat is now too fast to be true, with his eyes peering to you affectionately, and you just knew. You had to say it—now or never.
Taehyung tucks a strand of hair on your face behind your ear, noticing the conflict in your face. Are you regretting the kiss? “Baby, what’s wrong? You seem—”
“Taehyung, I like you.”
Hearing your word, Taehyung gazes at you with a wide smile—but you know he is certainly missing your point. “I like you too, Y/N. You know it.”
“No—I like you more than that.” You whisper in a rush, since you really need to say this or you’ll stop and regret it forever. “I like you too much, and I like you not in that friendly way—it’s more than that. I can even say I love you. I love the way you do everything, Taehyung. I love how you take care of me, I love how you love yourself, I love how selfless and passionate you are about everything, I love how polite and kind you are, I love everything about you.”
You love him. You love Taehyung—there’s no denying it. All of what you said is true—you did not even plan a word to say, and you most absolutely did not plan to confess and put everything on the line tonight, or even ever. But you know it had to be done. The feelings you have for him are too overwhelming, and it kills you nearly everyday to have him close everyday but has to hold your feelings back. You know by logic it doesn’t make any sense, Taehyung said he will never tie himself in a relationship, but your heart tells you that you might be an exception. Or you wish you are his exception.
Every second that passes with silence kills you, as you can see by second it is indeed a huge mistake to let your feelings out to him. Taehyung is terrified—you can clearly see it in his eyes. Your heart leaps in your chest, the echo is too much on your ear. You feel nauseous, the first time you ever let yourself follow your heart and confess it goes berserk.
“Y/N, I like you too. But please tell me you are not looking for anything serious with me.”
The pain is too evident you can hardly breathe. This is as clear and as painful as any rejection can be.
This is it, this is your chance. Just say yes, say that you are saying that because you appreciate the kindness he does and joke about how self-centered he is to think that you are seriously looking for something serious with a fuckboy.
You clear your throat, even with the dizziness embraces your head. No, you are not backing down again and be the same coward who is too scared of rejection. “No. I am looking for something serious. I like you, Tae. I want.. I want to have a serious relationship. With you.”
Taehyung instinctively groans, and you can feel a strong knock on your guts when a lucid disgust is formed on his face at the mention of a serious relationship. You cringe.
“Y/N, you know I don’t do relationships. Why would you expect that with me? I told you that before, I am not and will never want a relationship.”
Like the words are not harsh enough to you, he immediately takes a step back to put a safe distance between the both of you like you are a disease. The tears are already falling down your cheek. You feel like an idiot, you feel humiliated, you feel fooled, and frankly you are disgusted at yourself and him. You are not special. You are thinking too far. Who are you to think that he likes you? Who are you to think you can change his mind about relationships?
But your heart tells you that something is indeed not right. Everything he does to you—you know you are not hallucinating about it. Taehyung likes you, like what you expect him to be.
You look at him menacingly, the sadness turns into anger risen inside your chest. You are frustrated at his evident denial. “Why are you so afraid of letting me in, Taehyung? Why don’t you give us a chance? I know you, Taehyung—I know you are scared about the feelings we have for each other. But it doesn’t have to be that way. We can do this together—just give us a chance.”
Taehyung looks at you passively. “I. don’t. do. relationships. How many times should I tell it for you to understand, Y/N? I told you that a thousand times, I made it clear. How can you not get it?!”
“How can I not get it? It’s funny because what you said and what you did is 180 degrees different!” You stared at him in resentment and anger. “You told me you don’t want a relationship, but you kissed me, you held me, said you liked me, care about me in this whole damn world, act like a boyfriend to me even when my parents are not around, told me to not meet Hoseok, abandon your one night stand for me, slept beside me and took care of me, you put your phone wallpaper of my photo—what am I supposed to get, Taehyung?! That I am just your platonic best friend?!”
Your burst of rage immediately silenced him, but you are not done. You had enough of the emotional torture he put you in. “I told you. I told you to make it clear. If we are just a platonic best friend, you need to stop confusing me. And now you do all these dream dates shit, and not expect me to like you even more? Why are you playing with my heart just because you can’t figure your own?!”
“Y/N…” Seeing your broken attempts, Taehyung instinctively reaches out to you, but you quickly withdraw your hand away from him in repugnance. His heart fell at your clear avoidance.
You wipe your tears to the back of your sleeve, not wanting to waste another of your precious tears for another fuckboy who cannot even appreciate you and what you both had. “I am done with this, Taehyung. I am better off without you. I know you got an issue yourself, I am sorry, but I can not be the one to sacrifice my sanity because you just cannot solve it yourself.”
You stand up, and fortunately the ache in your ankle is getting much much better—or probably hidden by the booming pain in your chest. “I am getting a taxi.”
He instantly stands up, trying to stop your movement. “Y/N, you are hurt, let me at least take you home..” Taehyung whispers and offers his hand, but you menacingly laugh at him while picking up your belongings.
“I don’t need your pity ride.” You spit, eyes harsh. “Why would I spend another two hours sitting in a car with you again? You think I’m crazy? You should be thankful, now you can go on with your life the way it used to be. You’re happy, right? Go on with your one-night-stands again, Tae. Go back to your hollow life with those girls you’ll fuck and never call back. You prefer that, right?”
Taehyung is still silenced at your disquieting words, and you force a smirk even though inside you are completely numb. Like a mantra, you keep repeating how it’s better this way. It’s better to close all possibilities that you will ever be with him. So then your foolish heart can finally learn—you were thinking so highly of yourself. There is no use in wishing you can actually change someone, it will never happen.
You are crying till your tears run out, clenching on your chest. Is love supposed to hurt like this?
*
Taehyung wakes up with looming pain on his head, staring up at the Metallica poster on the ceiling. And how weird can it be that he instantly is reminded of the moment he first woke up next to you that morning in your apartment, the first time he broke two of his Platinum Rules for such a fierce, sassy girl that immediately set him straight and comfortably joked with him. He could never forget every detail, every joke, everything about you that night till morning.
It’s been exactly three months since the night of your first date together, which was also the night you confessed that you liked him and wanted to have a committed relationship with him, but he threw you away without any second thoughts just because he was scared. And since then, you can’t even understand how much he regrets everything that happened between the two of you, treating you like what you both had does not matter all because he was—or maybe still is a coward.
And he is too ashamed to admit that he had taken it too hard that first few weeks since that night, he literally cried every night. He felt alone, he felt miserable, he felt like an idiot, and frankly, he missed you so much. Not a day went by without him punishing himself for throwing away something that matters the most, something so beautiful only because he cannot trust himself and becoming too comfortable with the unfair relationship you both had.
And Taehyung tried calling you, but as expected you had his number blocked. Because he is a coward, he still doesn’t have the courage to meet you in person and tell you what happened, because literally he can’t see anything good will happen out of that. You could still be miserable, and he’d kill himself if you are struggling because of him. You could be happy, and he’d be happy too at first , but then the loneliness of seeing you well and happy with out him would keep him awake at night and drive him crazy. So he held back, changed his numbers and swore he won’t disturb you again.
“Man, you’re okay?”
Taehyung turns to find Jimin seated on Jungkook’s single bed, looking up to him in evident worry. “Why are you here—where’s Jungkook? And what do you mean okay?”
Jimin clears his throat, a bit uncomfortable to address the elephant in the room. “Jungkook is leaving for a date with his girlfriend. Nothing, it’s just—you’ve been sleeping since 2pm yesterday, and you just woke up now, and it’s already 10am. You nearly sleep for a full day. Is everything okay?”
Taehyung sighs, moving to sit up and feel the blood rushing uncomfortably in his head. He carefully massages his temples. “Have been better, but I’m fine. A bit bothered by the jackass partying downstairs last night too, but all good.”
Jimin hums. “So are you seeing your psychiatrist today?” He asks, offering a bottle of water which Taehyung receives and mutters his thanks. Ever since literally having a mental breakdown two weeks after that first date, Jimin asks Taehyung to go back to seeing his psychiatrist. Even though they were on a college break, it was still unhealthy for him to mop around his apartment and spend night and day drinking alcohol and crying while looking at his painting; especially the sunset on sea one. Jimin did not really know why it was the one he spent most of time staring at—especially with the clear lower quality of the painting, but he did not ask. Taehyung must have his personal reasons.
At first, Taehyung hates the idea of going back to have a session, but Jimin introduces him to an acquaintance who was one of the best psychiatrists in Korea. After much persuasion and realizing how miserable he felt and had been for the past few weeks, he agreed for a session. It turned out better than expected, and it somehow builds something within him—a motivation to be better. He wants to be a better person, to finally breathe without having to hurt, to be able to trust himself again. After two and a half months spent in intense treatment with his psychiatrist, he finally got much better since before.
Ten minutes spent in silence, before Jimin carefully opens a conversation again. “Taehyung, you can meet her, you know. You are getting better, and I think it’s good that you are, but you know you need to see her again.”
Taehyung sighs in complete distress, lowering his head. “I know. I want to, more than anything. I want to meet her again, to tell her everything that happened, but there’s no use for that anymore, Jimin. She did not want to see me again, she made it very clear. She also met someone else, someone better. She deserves it, to be happy. I don’t want to burden her with me again.”
And more reason why he really thinks every possibility is closed on seeing you again is due to the fact that you have met someone new. He heard it from lots of people—and even Jimin, that you have a new boyfriend with the name of Doojoon, a humble boy that works in a bookstore near Han River. He is said to be very kind and polite, and Taehyung did not really want to hear any further explanation. He did not realize that it would hurt this much to see you find someone else. He was trying to be happy for it—your happiness matters the most, he understands it better than anyone, but he is still heartbroken.
He loves you, but it is not enough to let you go.
“I know. But just consider it—hmm? It doesn’t have to be that grand proporsal you do to get back together. Just ask how she’s doing and everything. She is someone special, Tae. You know it.”
Taehyung hates how right Jimin is, since he is also advised by his psychiatrist to try solving the things with you as it will haunt him as unfinished until he finally finishes it—but he can’t. He is a coward. He knows he'll be unable to see you right in the eye and not grovel at your feet, beg you to come back, tell you that he is sorry and tell you about everything he wished was different. He still loves you, not even a day goes by without thinking about you and even though he is getting better in a mental sense, the fact that he might never feel what you both had with each other again still wounds him everyday.
Jimin taps his knees and stands up. “You got a lot to think about, buddy. It’s jus a suggestion, don’t think about it too much. Gonna leave you alone for this one. Good luck, okay? Tell me if you need anything.”
Taehyung thinly smiles, softly tapping his best friend’s thigh as an appreciation. “Thanks, Jimin. I owe you a lot.”
“I know. Then stop worrying me and just go meet her, okay?”
Jimin finally leaves the scene, but Taehyung is still too deep in his own thoughts that he nearly misses the loud ring of his phone. He mindlessly answers without looking at the caller. At the sudden caller’s panicked words, his eyes widens, heart skips a beat due to the great shock. Running to grab his shirt, it doesn’t even take a second for him to shout before clicking it off.
“What?! Okay, I am on my way.”
*
Taehyung runs in the hallway of the hospital like a crazy person, that a nurse had to stop him on his track. “Someone I know is in emergency, nurse. Where can I find her?!”
The nurse immediately senses the rush in his tone and leads him to the nurse behind the front desk. “Sir, how can I help you?”
“Nurse, please tell me where the child is in? She had a seizure, and she’s just in. Yoon Yuna. Please tell me where she is!”
“Sir, may I know your relation to the patient?”
Taehyung is too panicked to even comprehend. “I am her guardian. Please let me meet her.”
After a few other protocols, the nurse quickly leads him to the children's side in hospital, and in which he can see Mina crying outside a door. Taehyung quickly runs, and touches her by the arm. “Hey, what happened to Yuna..”
Mina is still crying hard, as she stumbles on the words she is about to say. “I-i don’t know. She was okay yesterday, but last night she got a really high fever and this morning she had a seizure. I was so scared, I don’t know what to do so I run her to the hospital, but her father is still on the way. He said he’ll be able to arrive by tomorrow, and I don’t know who to call beside you, Taehyung. I’m sorry if I bother you.”
Taehyung moves to rest her arm around her shoulder, pulling him close. He knew how hard it must be for her to go through the experience alone—he doesn’t want her to be miserable. “It’s okay. I’m glad you called. And no worry, I know she’ll be okay. She is a strong girl, she’ll be healthy in no time.”
Mina nods in his arm, still in tears. Taehyung heaves a breath, shutting his eyes, sincerely begging for Yuna’s recovery as fast as possible. Just imagining such a lively and vivacious girl to be sick has already torn his heart. He misses her so much, and he is not even sure he can face her being sick without crying.
Another half an hour spent in silence, suddenly the doctor comes out of Yuna’s room. Both Taehyung and Mina quickly rush to her side. “Doctor, how is Yuna? Is she okay?”
The doctor smiles in reassurance. “She’s fine. You have given her a correct first aid. She just needs to sleep for a few hours, stay for one or two nights for monitoring, and she’ll be good as usual. Let’s leave her alone for now, okay?”
Both Taehyung and Mina sigh in relief, deeply bow to the doctor. After she leaves, they can finally breathe. “Oh God, I was so scared.” Mina sighs, palm resting on her chest. “I really thought—”
Taehyung quickly taps her on the shoulder, stopping her worried words. “It’s okay, don’t dwell on that. What’s important is that she is okay now, just needs some rest.”
Mina nods with a thin, tired smile and Taehyung can totally relate to what she feels. Hearing Yuna is having a seizure could be the last thing he would ever want to hear, and he drove as fast as he could. After hearing she is fine, Taehyung could feel the heavy weight on his shoulder was lifted as well.
Suddenly among the nearly awkward silence, a sound of grumble is heard collectively, the source of sound coming from both your stomachs. It fortunately crashes the tense between the two of you, both laughing silently. “I am so hungry. Do you want to grab a meal in the lobby?”
Taehyung shakes his head, and stands up. “It’s okay, you should watch Yuna. I am going to bring you food, wait here.”
“No, we can’t eat here. Look.” She points at the clear sign. “We can eat for fifteen minutes, I think it should be fine as we cannot enter the room as well. Let’s grab some food, I want to go to the restroom after that too.”
So that’s how both Taehyung and Mina are walking down to the hospital cafeteria, with the lingering awkwardness. He safely secures his hand on his pocket, looking at all the hospital posters stuck on the wall, trying not to drown in the tense air right before she opens a conversation.
“How are you?” Mina asks with a sincere smile. “Is anything good happening? You strangely look better than I saw you before. Tell me.”
Taehyung answers, after clearing his throat. Is it obvious? “Not really, no. But I finally got the help I need I guess? I think got better.. mentally. Something happened, and it… it might or might not made me realize I was getting worse..? If that’s possible.”
Even with only a vague question, Mina still manages to open him up after all these times. It’s nearly magical how she is able to do it—even Jimin, his psychiatrist and his other friends are having a hard time to get him to confess what’s bothering his mind. “I just.. I met someone. I thought seeing this someone made me feel better—and I really did—but something was... not right? Because I guess I was becoming too dependent on her for my happiness—it was unhealthy. For me and for her.”
Mina nods, gesturing Taehyung to continue. “I like this girl. I don’t know—I might even love her. You know me, Mina. I wasn’t the greatest person, I could even be the worst. I don’t believe in relationships, I even spit on them. All because I am traumatized, because I believed I would never have someone who truly loves me. I thought it was nonsense—like it was only a far dream.” Taehyung whispers, eyes empty to nothingness.
“And then I met her, I felt like something changed. This girl must be different, and I… I saw so much of me in her. She’s not perfect, she is scarred, and she made me want to protect and care for her, like I want to do anything to make her happy, and that made me happy too. I like her and it’s too obvious even anyone can see, but I was unfair to her. I treat her like a lover, but I refused to put a label on it, while she was looking for something real.”
“And when she confessed her feelings… I let her go. Exactly three months ago.” Taehyung whispers weakly, the hurt is becoming too real to absorb. “Idiot me, I let her go. It was hard, but now I know it’s for the best. I am not ready for her, I couldn’t let her deal with this broken piece of me. And now she is now moving on to someone better. Good for her.”
Mina looks at him in surprise. “Wow.”
Taehyung smiles, rubbing the bridge of his nose to quickly wipe the tears. No, he doesn’t want to cry—but now with Mina here, everything is too much, like everything is coming back at him weighs like a ton of brick to his consciousness.
“I am very proud of you.” Mina whispers, eyes glistening with tears. “You have been very, very brave about this. You know nothing good coming out of rushing things, Taehyung. She might be ready at that time, but you clearly understand you still were not. And to be brave enough to get that help and work hard to finally be better.. It’s just—so, so so amazing.”
Both of them finally arrived at the cafeteria. “And I don’t think you should regret a thing. You could’ve been with her, forcing yourself in something you did not even understand and ruined a once in a lifetime bond with her just because you were not ready. What I mean is—everything will rightfully fall to its own place, at the right time. You know? There’s no rush. If she meant to be, she’ll be.” Mina smiles encouragingly, patting him in the back.
“Have you talked to her again? After that last time?”
Taehyung forlornly shakes his head. “I know there’s a lot of opportunity… but I am too scared to face her again. I am afraid I would mess all of it again, you know? It’s like, one last chance I have with her, and I really want to make it right. But I’m not sure if I’m ready.”
Mina nods in understanding, offering him a bottle of drink taken from the fridge. “Well, I most definitely cannot answer that. The answer is only for you to know.”
“And how can I know? These things inside my head keep on thinking what if I mess everything up. I.. I can’t stop it.” He sighs exasperatedly, desperately looking to Mina for an answer he knows she can’t give. Mina winks at him teasingly, munching happily on a bread on her grasp.
“Well, maybe you should start thinking about what if you do everything right. Then you’d know.”
*
It was Saturday, exactly 6pm and you are already lounging in your bed, face painted with exhaustion. You did nothing remotely important today, but you don’t exactly know why you are drained to the max. It could probably be the fact that your mother is already telling you to finally get out of the house after the longest time, and your friends are blowing up your phone asking to meet them for a party but you refuse and insist on staying home. The last time you went to a party was being trashed at that frat party three months ago, exactly at that time you broke every kind of relation with Taehyung.
You sigh when realizing that your mind really has nothing better to think other than Taehyung, how long it has been since the last time you saw him, and how much you have been missing him. The whole three months is a train of torture, a period in which you do all everything in your power to avoid thinking about him too much and eventually calling him. And after a month you actually did, one drunken night you were staying with Seungyeon and called him, but it was unable to be connected. High possibility he already blocked you, but who are you to judge? If you were him you’d do that in a heartbeat too.
“This man is horrible.” You groan in disgust while watching terrible american reality TV, 90 Days Fiance. After the whole three months, you have been focusing on watching trashy movies and reality shows, only to busy yourself with the fact that you are avoiding your real issue that your right mind has been telling you the nth time now.
Everyone said that for a million times, that you are doing the right thing for standing up to Taehyung. That he doesn’t deserve you. That the pain too shall pass. But how long will it take to prove them right? Because you have been waiting for three months, and by days you felt more and more miserable. Frankly, you miss him. You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss talking to him again, you miss seeing his face, you miss hearing his voice, you miss sitting in Han River with him again. And even though knowing what you did that evening was the right thing to do, why can’t your heart try to understand and just let it go? Why do you have to like him too much like a fool?
The idiot pairs on your screen are fighting, but you decide to turn them off as it is too disturbing to your distracted mind. You move to lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling in silence in deep sigh.
Is he okay? Is he doing well?
Does he feel miserable? Does he feel the way you do?
Does he miss you like you miss him?
All these questions somehow, even after three months are still able to tear you up like it’s just yesterday. You hate this suffocating feeling in your chest that you are unable to let go. It is always there, since the moment you left three months ago, and never left ever since.
You know he loved you, but he was just not ready.
The tears fall one by one after the statement runs through your head. Yes, it is true. You knew Taehyung needed sometimes to fix himself, but you were shoving your feelings like it was the only thing that mattered. How selfish could you be, when all he did was take care of you, even better than he took care of himself? You are a fool to let him go, just like that.
Suddenly, a knock on your door is heard. You agonizingly and swiftly sweep the tears away at the back sleeve of your sweater—and it turns out to be your father behind the door. “Y/N, someone is at the door, sending this package. He said you need to open it and meet him after, so come down okay?”
You hum, opening the crack of your door, careful not to let him know you have been crying or there will be follow up interrogation. “Do you know who it is, pa?”
He shrugs. “No, but he looks nice. Got a nice car too.”
You roll your eyes, pulling to receive the package. It is a rectangle, large package with blue wrapping and silver ribbon. Your eyebrows raised in uncertainty, your fingers carefully scrap it open to see what’s inside.
It’s a blank canvas, and the exact same canvas. Your heartbeat immediately fastens, as your fingers run through the smooth expanse of the surface, with a letter stuck on top of it. You are swift to open the letter with overwhelming nerves —the reminder that someone is waiting for you outside is not helping as well.
I know I am three months late, but can we finish this piece?
And I miss you.
With love, Kim Taehyung.
Not even a hint of hesitation and care, you run out of the room to your porch, looking at a red car parked in front of your house. It’s Jimin. It’s really Jimin.
“Hey. You ready?” Jimin asks with a wide smile. You nod.
You never felt more ready in your life.
Fifteen minutes spent in silence, and you are familiar with the road you are driving on. It’s Han River, exactly a place you meet Taehyung again that night. And when you can detect his car parked in his usual spot, your breath immediately hastens. It is really him. You are about to talk to someone you miss so much, spending too many time thinking about—he is literally just a distance away.
When the car finally comes to a stop, Jimin gives you a comforting smile. “Good luck.”
You nod, reciprocate his smile. “Thanks.”
Walking out, you can slowly make out the silhouette of Taehyung, sitting on the bench, looking out to the sky. You take a deep breath, braving yourself. Here he is. Just go for it. And please don’t cry—You warn yourself, trying to muster your most sincere smile and hope it will not crack, no matter how much you long to just by seeing him again for the first time in three months and tell him how hard it has been for him. You hold the blank canvas in your grasp, hesitantly walking to him.
“Hi.” You breathe, and Taehyung immediately shoots his gaze to you, the familiar boxy smile formed on his lips.
“Hi. Please sit down.”
By the time you are seated behind him, you are certain it is not long until you will cry. You don’t know what to say to him, since all you wanted to do is to hug him and never let go. You want to let him know that being far from him one of the hardest thing you ever endured, and you miss him terribly that it stings inside your heart. Yet nothing comes out, because you are a coward.
“S-should we paint?” He asks in a rush, taking the brush out of the same duffle bag you identify from months ago. “I know it’s not really close to the sky on the beach the last time, but this is good too. I just don’t want you too far from your home and—”
“Are you afraid that I will run away like I did last time and had to take a taxi, two hours just to head back?” You ask in an indecipherable emotion painted across your face. Taehyung looks up, nerve painted on his face. Is he making the wrong choice to invite you now? Are you still furious at him? Only if he knew.
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen again, Tae.”
Taehyung let out the breath he has been holding. “You scared me.”
“I don’t know why you would care so much about me.” You bit your lips, holding the tears back, not wanting to let him see how fragile you are right now. “I would hate me if I were you..”
You know Taehyung intended to hug you, but he braced himself and settled on a pat on your head instead. Sensing his hesitation, it feels like a knock to your gut. It is as clear as a day he is limiting himself with you now. “Hey, don’t say it like that. You know I would never hate you. It’s beyond my power, I think.”
“Should we start painting?” He asks with a comforting smile after noting your deep silence, and you nod hesitantly, unsure how to keep on pretending everything is alright when all you want to do is to cry on his arm. “I know the lighting is not really good here, so I actually bring a portable lamp. Hope this helps.”
He turns on a lamp hanging on in front of your head. The lamp was adequate to let you see the blank canvas on the canvas stand, along with the blue paint he prepared. He offers you one brush, and that’s how you spend the next ten minute, in silence doing the bare minimum as it is mostly him doing all the painting.
“How have you been? This past three months, I mean.” Taehyung suddenly asks, breaking the uncomfortable tense so thick he can cut it and shove it down his throat and hopefully choke on it forever. “Are you doing fine?”
That questions leaves you in agonizing contemplation. What should you say? Can you drop it on him? Tell him that you are miserable, and hurt, and you miss him so bad you lock yourself in your home most of the times you are free, looking at the ceiling or checking on the photo you took of him or with him? Tell him that you have been mostly regretting the times you force your feelings to him? Another humiliation is not really what you want to have right now.
“I’m fine, I think.” is all you are muster to say. What a fucking liar, you curse yourself in distress. You want to answer as honest as possible, but how can you answer the truth without crying? And the last time you tell him what you exactly felt, both of you broke up without even any relationship to begin with. Is it so wrong of you to think you might ruin everything? “What about you? The past three month?”
“I’m getting better.” He steals a glance at you, before resuming to pain the calming river on his canvas. “After that night, I was not really in a good place, actually. I was miserable, I felt alone, and yup. I lock myself inside my apartments the first two weeks, drinking days and nights until Jimin asks me to visit a psychiatrist. I was offended and hesitant at first, even deep within I know I need it. A help.”
You stare at his side face, still proceed in painting. You can’t believe how composed he can be. “Before, I’m not really the type to be that positive, but then I felt strangely motivated. Is that weird?” He asks shyly, scratching his nape. You instantly respond by shaking your head. “It was like… For the first time, I kind of have this hope? That I want myself to be better. And I got better too. Much, much better. I even contacted and talked to my mom and dad again, probably after such a long time now. They were surprised to say the least.”
You smile at him, eyes glistening with tears. “That’s amazing news, Taehyung. I am very, very happy for you. And proud too.”
Taehyung rests his brush on the stand and stares at you that nearly makes you lose your breath. “I know you are wondering why I ask you to come here. And even though I just want to see you again, it's mostly to say what I am three months too late to say.”
“I know I’m not the best person, Y/N. I could be the worst person to date. I was a fuckboy that took lightly of people’s feelings, and I only cared about my own. I even had these silly rules about dealing with girls, it’s called the platinum rules and.. and I just realize this was sort of my defense? The defense I had to protect myself from truly liking someone.”
“And regardless of being a trash rule that just made me the worst person to ever exist, it also took me to you. It made me realize you are not just anyone—you are not just a number, just a one night stand. You are more than that, and you proved it in just a day. You show me all these qualities I never thought you would have, and you made me comfortable. Too comfortable, I think. It was something I hoped to never change, but it was selfish of me.”
“In a way, I see myself in you, Y/N. Like you make me want to take care of you, always. And then days go by and I felt like I was too attached with you, but still intact with the fear that I have about relationships. I ignore that important issue about my trauma, as what we have has made me too happy and I believed the illusion I was doing alright. But I wasn’t.”
You don’t even realize you have been holding your breath for too long now. “Taehyung…”
“Even though I wish some things might be different, I had to thank you and whatever happened that night. Even with the pain intact, you made me realize that I needed help. I couldn’t throw my insecurities and trauma on you, Y/N. I could’ve ruined everything we had. I can finally, finally think of the silver lining out of you slapping the truth on my face.” He chuckles nervously while scratching his nape, and you are unable to take your eyes off him. How can he be this calm, telling the most important turmoil happening in his life?
“And I’m happy you are happy right now. You can’t believe how… how happy I was to find that you moved on and… and—ah. No, I’m just happy for you.”
There is something he is hiding about, and your eyebrows raise in concern. “Happy for me because of what?”
“What’s the use of it now, Y/N?” He asks weakly, his lips forming to a thin straight line. He practiced this a million times, but how is he still unable to fake it? He ruffles his hair in frustration for himself. “There’s no use in that, Y/N. I love it that you are happy. That’s all.”
“That’s clearly not all, Taehyung. What do you take me for? I know we haven’t been speaking in the past three months, but I still know you. Tell me.” You persuade in visible concern, scooting closer to look him right in his eyes, successfully making it harder for him to think straight.
“Y/N, I don’t want to say it. Please. Nothing will change, and I don’t want it to. I promised not to.”
You stare at him, nearly begging. “Please. Please let me know.”
He huffs, realizing you are too persistent to even comply with his request of letting it go. And who is he to say no? “Okay. But please don’t hate me after this—I… I don’t want what happened to us in the past three months to happen again.” You instinctively nod, as you yourself w will anything in your power to never let it happen again.
“I know these words are three months too late, but I like you, Y/N. I like you. And not in that friendly way—it’s more than that—I can even say I love you. I love the way you do everything, Y/N. I love how you take care of me, I love how you love yourself, I love how selfless and passionate you are about everything, I love how polite and kind you are, I love everything about you.” It is indeed something you have been longing to hear, but you do notice something settles strangely inside your mind. You gaze up to him in questions, as those words are strangely familiar—you’d know as you have been repeating it over and over in the past three months inside your head.
“I know you might remember—but it’s exactly what you said to me three months ago. It dawns on me, Y/N. I like all your qualities like you like mine. We are truly alike, in a totally different way. It should have been easy to understand my feelings for you.” His voice are too weak now, nothing beyond this is the words he prepared beforehand. He just goes with what his heart tells him to say.
“I am not regretting those three months. But if I may answer it again now, I want to say I love you. I really do. I don’t know why or when or how—it could be all of the moments we spent together. I love you for everything you are and are not. I love you without further thoughts. You made it so easy to love you, I am in the dark as well.”
He was beet red, and you are still unable to decipher. Sensing your evident shock, Taehyung sighs in distress and panic. He is definitely ruining all this for you. God, he really wasn’t going to scare you away. “I wasn’t going to say this, Y/N. I know you found someone else—”
“What? Found someone else? Who?” You ask in deep confusion. A boyfriend? What? It’s such a bizarre experience to be told you are dating someone else from the one person you like so much, right after he confessed.
Taehyung is now severely confused, eyes scrunched dubiously. “I.. I heard it. From people, and even Jimin. Doojoon? The boy from the bookstore. I was told you are dating him.”
Then it dawns on you, and you literally had to laugh at that one. The change of your expressions successfully makes Taehyung feel like a moron. “Doojoon? Ha—I’ll never get used to that name.”
You smile at him warmly, softly taking his palm closely to yours with the unbelievable burst of happiness inside your chest. Taehyung likes you. He seriously loves you, and confesses to you like what you expect him to. Is this even real?
You take a breathe, a warm smile formed on your lips. “Doojoon is not my boyfriend. He is actually... Jisung.”
“Jisung?!” Taehyung is already shouting, but you quickly shush him.
“Yes. Actually a few months ago, Jisung called me and asked me to meet him—no worry, we are not heading back to that neighborhood. We are meeting in a cafe near my house. I was scared at first, but then he explained everything. His sister got sick pretty severely, and his parents asked him to come back home. They reconciled, and he ran away from his gang. Fortunately his gang never knew about the identity of his parents, but to avoid any attention he decided to change his name when meeting new people. He actually apologized to me that time for what he has done to me before. He even wanted to pay me back—but I just think it was not necessary. I prefer all the money to go to his family first.”
Your forefingers traces on his large palms, not looking straight to his eyes. “After that we got around pretty often. He told me about his family, his sisters, yup. And I met a few friends when I was meeting him, and since I was already populat as ‘Taehyung’s ex-girlfriend’ at that time, the fake news must have spread.”
Taehyung listens to you attentively, but as word goes by he is unable to bite back the toothy smile blooming on his lips. God, he never knew anything could make him happy as what you just said. “You know what? I will go and kick Jimin’s ass for telling me such fake news. He doesn’t even validate—how dare. You know it has been making me crazy for the longest time, and—”
“Crazy? Why?” You teasingly ask, and Taehyung immediately pulls you close by the arm. He rests his forehead on yours, breathing your scent. God, you can’t even imagine how much he misses this. Just to be with you, holding you close.
“You know why, you idiot. Do I need to say again? Heroically and cheesily?”
You nod. “Of course. And can you at least make it original? I think I’ll copyright my confession from now on.” You jokingly scoff, and Taehyung moves to kiss your cheek. Something literally burst inside his head—amusement, excitement, happiness to be able to finally hug you and kiss you again after holding for the longest time.
“What if I break it?” He asks with a mischievous smirk. You shrug, your fingers brushing his jaw that he need to follow every movement you made.
“I don’t know—I might have to kiss you.” You innocently smile as Taehyung giggles in amusement. Oh, how he misses talking and flirting with you again like this.
“You know what? I think I’ll say that every second of the day, girlfriend.”
You are unable to hold a loud laugh at the affectionate nickname. Who would’ve thought Taehyung would dare to say that ever?
“Wow. You really know how to set the mood right.” You mutters, arms secured around his neck.
Taehyung finally moves to enclose his lips on yours, starting the kiss slow but still as pleasant and wonderful as ever. He knows he has all night and further on to have you close, but one thing is on his mind that he is too desperate to say to you now. “Hey, I know I can’t promise anything much, that I’ll make you always happy or any other bogus I know I can’t keep, I’m still trying. But one thing I can promise you that I’ll try my best to keep everything we have now, and in the future. I love you, Y/N.”
This bond you have, he knows how special it is. He doesn’t not know if he’ll find anyone else that makes him feel the way you do—and he never intends to. But he really needs you on board, to help him in anyway possible. To support him throughout every hurdles or conflicts. And apparently, it is indeed everything you want from him.
You hum, crashing your lips back to him and hum in clear delight. “Seriously, that’s all I want. I know relationships can be scary, Tae—with all your previous experience. I am scared too that I’ll hurt us—but I love you too much I’d risk everything. I promise you I’ll try my best to keep everything we have now and beyond.” You whisper as a promise, swiping your thumb against his apparent cheekbone.
Taehyung pecks your lips once again. “That’s wonderful. But can you repeat that I love you one? Because I don’t think I heard it enough—”
You giggle, continuing to feel him against your lips once more. It never felt so perfect to be with Taehyung as right now, and you wish this moment can last forever. You know it might be difficult, but you are eager to see and fight for what you have with him, and where the relationships both of you will lead to. All because you love him, and he loves you too.
“I love you too, boyfriend.”
*
“What the fuck? Is this how you’re paying me back for that night, Taehyung?!” Jungkook asks furiously in the restroom of the exact restaurant Taehyung first met you nearly half a year ago.
Taehyung snickers, looking at the panicked face of his best friend, Jungkook when he sees he is not the only one in the table. Jungkook should have guessed, though. Since when Taehyung ever wanted to eat in McDonalds alone with him? He thought Taehyung was just being nice, taking him for an all-boys hangouts after getting himself a new girlfriend.
Taehyung is wearing a nice blue navy button up shirt with sleeves rolled to his mid-arm and matching cotton dark grey cotton pants and a sleek pantofel. While he? Jungkook literally just came out of practice, still wearing his sweaty ass ‘legalize it’ shirt he mistakenly brought as a change shirt, ripped jeans that show more of his thighs than he is proud of, and old, discolored vans. Meanwhile out on the table, both of the girlfriends are wearing semi formal dresses. He literally look so disoriented among the formal looking folks that he is this close to leaving if his girlfriend is not holding him back.
“You are a fucking jerk!” Jungkook spit in detectable hatred, and Taehyung shrugs menacingly as an answer.
“We are just going to have a nice double date dinner together, bro. As couples.” Taehyung sarcastically smiles and Jungkook rolls his eyes. This older man is seriously a child in disguise, and it could be a miracle how you are willing to sacrifice your sanity and decide to date his annoying ass.
“I fucking hate you.”
“Yeah, yeah whatever. But we are taking too much time in the toilet for two men and people there gonna think we are fucking. Let’s go.” Taehyung mindlessly put an arm on Jungkook’s shoulder, walking back to the desk in which you and Jungkook’s girlfriend are chatting lively. Jungkook takes a deep breath, then launches an elbow kick square to Taehyung’s rib that throws him to coughing fit to get his arms off him.
“I swear when we are done, I’ll punch you in your fucking annoying handsome face.”
Taehyung launches a flirty wink along with a chuckle. “I don’t mind you hitting on me, but my girlfriend is just right here.”
Sensing Jungkook’s distress, his girlfriend immediately welcomes him. “Baby, don’t be mad. Taehyung is clearly joking, and it is funny.” She persuades, softly pecking his cheek and albeit begrudgingly, Jungkook is unable to resist his girlfriend’s persuasion and decide to comply. Only because his girlfriend asks so.
“But I’m not letting this go, Kim Taehyung. I’ll get my revenge.” Jungkook hisses with a menacing smirk, but Taehyung easily answers by flipping him off, before humming in delight to welcome the newly arrived food.
And that’s how you spend another two hours chatting and joking with each other, and enjoying the glare and obvious attention thrown at Jungkook’s face he had to duck his head lower every time. But Taehyung clearly has not had enough, since at the end of the dinner he quickly stands up and motions you to follow the gesture as well.
“Ah, Sir Jungkook. This has been a pleasant dinner. Thank you for the treat.” He salutes, walking out with you by his side as an escape, disregarding the fact that Jungkook literally shouts his curse in the middle of a busy restaurant behind you. Yes, Taehyung is that petty and of course he’ll do anything to make Jungkook pay for what he did.
“You know, I feel bad for Jungkook.” You giggle in amusement after sitting inside Cecil. “That date literally brought us together. We literally owe him a lot, you know.”
Taehyung smiles and winks at you. “That’s why after he’s pissed beyond words at me and ready to punch me after being thrown out of this restaurant, he’ll come back to the dorm to find a new computer upgrade device he has been going on and on and on recently. It’s a foolproof plan, right?”
You nod and giggle in appreciation at his thoughtful plan, shifting your dress while waiting for the car to drive off but it is somehow taking too long. You look up to him, instinctively smile at the gaze he is transfixing in you.
“I don’t say this much, but you are very beautiful and I’m thanking my lucky star to have you as my lover.” He mutters sincerely, his fingers enclosing in each space between yours. You swiftly move to kiss him softly, right palm secured on his shoulder. Albeit short and being done literally everyday, Taehyung is still unable to wrap his head around it, as it still sends flutters to him from head to toe.
“You know you say that everyday, but go off king.” You reply with a wink, and Taehyung pinches your cheek affectionately.
“Should we go now?” He asks in excitement, releasing the break on his car. You squeal in excitement, clapping your hand in the same manner.
“Japan, here we go!”
=============================
This literally is the longest fics I have ever written it’s literally 50k words / 100 pages in docs and oof- i really go off with this one lol and thank you, it has been a very pleasant ride! As you know, there might be a following drabble in Taehyung & y/n time in japan too, so if any of yall interested, please let me know!
I could’ve made this shorter but I do think its better to develop Taehyung’s character first before he settles in the relationship☺It was a story as well, I hope anyone can take something out of it as well lol
And do tell me what you think about this fics! I really love seeing how this story affects you all, I feel really encouraged :) THANK YOU and see yall soon!💕😘
#taehyung#taehyung fluff#taehyung angst#taehyung mutual pining#taehyung fuckboy au#taehyung fratboy au#bts fluff#bts angst#bts fuckboy au#bts fratboy#taecalikook#jimin#jungkook
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Darktimeline!AU continues. As ever, written in collaboration with the incredible @untilthepainstarts.
content warnings: referenced murder, referenced noncon touch, alcohol, mild violence, briefly referenced victim blaming
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It took a lot for Cassius Bergen to feel unsettled. Usually he was fazed by so very little, an I’m-rubber-you’re-glue kind of guy, attitude loose and languid in a way that made it adaptable to any incoming occurrence, good or bad. There wasn’t any use in the feeling of being perturbed to a man who had already laughed outright in the face of the perverse, from twisted colleagues to the character that had raised him.
But when Viklund-Reid turned up on the doorstep of the estate this evening, bloodied and half-wild, Cassius may have felt the slightest twinge of it. No small amount of satisfaction as well of course, at seeing the gaping cracks in the man’s usually impenetrable self control—he had been wondering just how much pressure that nice guy facade could withstand before it popped, and mild-mannered house mouse Lev fell away to reveal Lev Alexander Viklund-Reid, criminal mastermind.
As it turns out, all it took was a single loose end.
"I think I killed Jacob St. Clair."
Standing in the doorway to the sitting room in his nightrobe and slippers, Cassius’ mouth drops open. He shuts it just as fast, but it doesn’t seem like Lev had noticed at all. If anything, the man seemed wrapped up in himself, eyes staring into middle distance, hands rubbing up along the outsides of his arms.
"Wait, you think you did, or you did did? Because—”
"I did," Lev restates. "He's definitely dead. And if he wasn't then… he is now."
It’s then that Cassius’ eye picks up the things he didn’t before. It's a warm November night outside and Lev isn't wearing his usual jacket, but rather a comparatively thin dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. It's torn a few inches in at the collar, the top buttons popped off to reveal the delicate golden necklace he always wears underneath. A trail—a spray—of blood sits across his face, from his cheek to the inside corner of his eye. And on his knuckles. And in his hair, in tiny little spots.
Cassius realises that he’s grinning. It feels sharp in his mouth. “Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah.” Lev’s hand reaches up to play with the gold chain. His eyes remain unfocused, staring somewhere between Cassius’ chaise and his china cabinet.
“Jesus Christ. So I guess we’re not going with ‘take him down quietly’?”
“Apparently not.”
Blowing air out through his cheeks, Cassius shakes his head. Leans in the doorway, He’s not that mad, not really.
Though Lev could have asked if he wanted a piece first, selfish bastard. A bit rich considering it all. If Cassius had known he was going to up and off the guy—
“Just say it,” Lev says, eyes flicking up to meet his in a tired sort of challenge. “We both know you’re going to.”
Cassius smirks and crosses his arms, “Let’s not rush it, Bergen. There’s no satisfaction in a quick kill, Bergen. Let’s savour the take down, rot him from the inside out…”
Lev’s eyes flick away from him, dark and blazing, as though he hadn’t just asked to be served what he was given. As if he didn’t deserve a little mocking for his hypocrisy.
“I know.”
Cassius shrugs like it doesn’t bother him, and really what is there to be all that bothered about? If St Clair was dead, he was dead. Not much they could do to wind back time now.
“So what happened, then?”
Lev eyes flick up and then away again, find the same middle distance he’s been staring into all night. His hand comes up, knuckles rubbing against the bare of his neck, just above the necklace. He could just be rubbing at the dried blood there. Cassius would bet half his house that he isn’t.
“What happened, Viklund-Reid?” he says again, a tiny tug back to earth. “Come on. You stole my kill, I deserve the story at least.”
“He called my guy yesterday, begging me for help with James and whatever takeover that little fuck is itching to pull the trigger on now, asking for a meeting. At first I thought about just telling him I had no wish to be caught up in that, shut it down, but… I figured it could be a chance at information. And frankly it was weird that he reached out to me directly, and at the moment James is being a right prick with my deals up north. So I went.”
Cassius nods along like the story is new to him, all while a sense of déjà-vu creeps slowly in. “But he didn’t want to talk about that at all?”
Smiling self-deprecatingly, Lev shakes his head. “He wanted to talk about me. Said I had done really well so far, better than he’d expected, but it was time to face the facts: that I’d never be what Martin was, that I’m not designed for this kind of life… whatever, you get the idea. But then when I made to leave, he stopped me. Physically. And I just—you don’t just do that, but he did—warned him too, said if he kept going like that, he’d have known if he’d just listened to me, I wouldn’t have had to, to, to—he just kept pushing, and pushing and then—”
The disjointed stream of a sentence ends in a laugh, tightly wound. Lev’s shoulders have drawn in, his jaw clenched, and he’s speaking at the wall as if it had been the one who’d wronged him, his initial audience all but forgotten in the room.
Cassius raises an eyebrow. He hasn’t seen him angry like this. Anxious like this. “Viklund-Reid?”
“—Wonder why no one likes you, fucker, sticking your nose into other people’s business, putting your hands where they don’t belong—”
“Viklund-Reid.”
“—Put down that fucking ego for twelve seconds—”
“Lev.”
“What.”
When he’s sure he finally has Lev’s attention, Cassius moves his eyes down to the knife that had appeared in his business partner’s hand and back up again, pointedly. It’s enough to make the man pause and take stock of what had seemingly been an unconscious fiddling, smoothly flicking it open and shut in rapid repetition.
It’s not the knife that bothers Cassius particularly. Lord knows he’s seen it enough. It’s the way he was holding it, fiddling with it. The specific grip to the handle. Unconscious maybe, all of it. But careful. Practiced. With intent. The same way a cat settled back and locked its gaze before striking prey. The same way a sharpshooter fiddled with a gun.
Lev clears his throat, before slipping the knife into his pocket. “I, uh. I’m gonna use your bathroom.” He pushes up off the arm of the sofa and starts walking away, but not before Cassius can cut him off at the pass.
“No you’re not. Kitchen’s closer. Has booze,” Cassius adds, before heading off in that direction, not waiting to check if Lev is following, and definitely not moving anywhere within striking distance. As much as he didn’t need Lev falling apart in his sitting room, he also didn’t particularly need a stab wound either.
Cassius steps into the kitchen and goes directly to the sink, turning on the water and letting it run before heading to the pantry and straight to the liquor.
“Is this a champagne or vodka sort of occasion?” he calls over his shoulder.
“Vodka,” comes the mumbled call from the sink. “Definitely fucking vodka.”
By the time he comes back, near-full bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other, Lev is sitting on the kitchen bench, frowning at his knuckles, rubbing at them absently with a piece of blood-pink paper towel.
“You look rattled,” Cassius says mildly.
“I am rattled.”
Cassius snorts a laugh and Lev looks up at him with something a little too tired to be a glare. “What?”
He shrugs. “Nothing. Just didn’t think I’d be spending my night talking through baby’s first murder.”
“Not my first,” Lev mutters with a scoff. “Jesus, of course not my first. Just first like this. First where I… lost control.”
Cassius frowns barely and looks Lev over, eyes narrowing in curiosity while the other man’s gaze is diverted. He’d always kind of thought… well he’d assumed how it must’ve gone down with Martin. But apparently he was going to have to ask for that story one day too.
He offers out the vodka, leaves the glasses on the bench behind him. “Drink.”
Lev takes a generous swig and returns the bottle to the bench, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Did he try that with you?”
Taking his time ripping a bit of paper towel from the roll, folding it into a square, using it to dab away the little streak of blood on Lev’s face, Cassius ponders his answer. Decides to let the other do the work. “Try what?”
Lev’s lips press together in a thin line. “If I’d known, I’d have taken care of it from the start. Or at least… wouldn’t have told you to wait.”
The image of St. Clair flashes up in front of Cassius' eyes—furious, yes, but from the other side of the table over lunch. Looking like he’d wanted to leap over it and strangle him, but hadn’t in the end. Just called him the usual—little Bergen whore—and left.
“No, he didn’t. Just ran his mouth.”
Lev’s face falls slightly, as if that wasn’t the answer he’d wanted. He leans backward, eyes narrowed, calculating.
“Sorry, did I just relieve you of some preconceptions?” Cassius says drily, feeling annoyance stir somewhere underneath the surface. He had no right. “Or did he need to have groped me a little for me to be able to be mad about it?”
“That’s not—”
“Because if I recall, I wanted the fucker gone months ago and you kept telling me it wasn’t smart. So now I’m just trying to figure out where the double standard fits into all of this, or whether I now get to present my own TED talk on self-control.”
“If he had kept his hands off of me—”
“You think I haven’t had people put their hands on me?” Cassius spits. Lev looks away. Cassius burns. “How is it that when I do this shit it’s stupid and impulsive and—”
“It is stupid and impulsive.”
“And when you do it, it’s what? Righteous?”
Bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, Lev heaves a sigh. “Shut it, Bergen. Shut up.”
“Or what? Your cleaner’s going to be hitting up my place later too?”
Lev moves his hand away, looks like he’s about to bite back a response, before he pauses. Blinks, hand hovering in the air. Mouth open, then shut, and the tension fizzles slightly in the room as he flounders.
For the second time that night, Cassius feels a shark-like smile creep across his face as he puts two and two together. “Oh, you’re kidding. You’re kidding,” he says through bared teeth, tone dangerously low.
Dark eyes lock with his as Lev looks at him. “I fucked up. I know I fucked up.”
Cassius’ annoyance shifts gears right into anger, revving hot at the half-admission. “Say the fucking words, Lev,” he challenges, incredulous.
When the only response he gets from the man in front of him is a sheepish look and a phone pulled out of his pocket, Cassius scoffs, grabs the vodka on the bench. He’s furious, can only hold it in for long enough to take a swig straight from the bottle, and for Lev to start dialing.
“So. Just so I’ve got all of this perfectly fucking clear. You murder a guy, right, guy you told me specifically not to. Then you get in your car. Drive forty minutes here. Come into my house—”
“I know, alright?”
“—And you haven’t called your fucking cleaner yet?”
“Don’t yell at me Bergen,” Lev warns, frowning.
Laughing, Cassius gestures at him with the bottle—how dare he? Keeps his voice at the same level, because fuck this. “I’ll talk to you how I damn well please. You are in my house. You are putting my arse on the line here.”
“I’m getting it sorted,” he says with a pointed glare, phone to ear.
Cassius laughs again, eyes wide and furious. “Cutting it kind of close, don’t you think?”
Lev swears under breath as the phone clearly hits voicemail, starts to redial.
“Perfect,” Cassius scoffs, taking another swig. “Fucking perfect.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“You have the fucking murder weapon sitting on my bench, Lev,” he says, swinging his arms wide. “Are you trying to get this pinned on me?”
“I said, I’ll handle it.”
Cassius doesn’t let up. “Is this what you get off on is it? Getting friends in high places dragged down to low ones?”
“Of course not.” Lev spits, real fire in his eyes.
“Well fuck knows you don’t seem to be getting off on anything else.”
Lev’s feet hit the floor as he surges forward, and the next thing Cassius knows are two hands curled in his shirt and his back hitting the wall, vodka splashing up out of the glass neck on impact. He opens his mouth to command Lev away, but hesitates on the thought of meeting the business end of that knife—he’s already right on him, and could likely pull and engage it in a split-second, before he could even name him and finish the words.
Cassius searches the eyes of the man pinning him to the wall and for the first time since their meeting, Cassius is certain Lev Viklund-Reid could kill him.
So when Lev rushes forward all at once, Cassius can’t help the gasp that leaves him. He’d almost be embarrassed by the shocked sound of it if the noise wasn’t stolen from his lips in half a second by Lev’s own.
Lev kisses him hard. Hungry and desperate. Like he’s trying to tell him something words aren’t enough for. Cassius feels like he’s stuck a beat behind just trying to decipher it. And then just as he starts to melt forward into it, just as he brings his hands up to touch, Lev’s gone again, the weight of his body disappearing as completely as if he’d turned to smoke while Cassius’ eyes were closed.
“What-” Cassius blinks his eyes open, hand almost reaching for a man who isn’t there anymore.
Lev’s standing a few feet away, wide-eyed and halfway horrified. “Shit, I’m so sorry. You- I’m- I’m an idiot. ”
“No, it’s-” Cassius brings his hand up and back to his lips, silences himself, stops the words that want to come out. The kiss still feels trapped there, just beneath his fingertips. “It’s fine.”
“Shit,” Lev repeats. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Lev, just-” come back here. Do that again. “Calm down, a sec.”
“Jesus, I- I’m losing it,” Lev says, and alright well that stings just a little. Cassius keeps his place on the wall, tucks his hands behind his back and presses them flat against the plaster.
“I’m fucked.” And there’s that mad laugh again. A torn out, twisted thing that hardly suits him but still seems to fit. “I’ve fucked this.”
“Lev…”
“No, I’m-“ he makes a pained expression, like shame and apology all wrapped up in one scrunch of the nose. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come here, I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking-“
“Probably that you need an alibi,” Cassius says evenly, shrugging a shoulder as he pushes forward, risks a step or two closer. “I’m a good one. And the staff all love you. They’d vouch for you even if I don’t threaten them.”
He doesn’t get too close—who’d approach a wild animal with its hackles still raised? But still makes himself available. Approachable. He could be the lantern in the distance if the man needed it, but he knew it wasn’t wise to press, even after Lev had initiated. Maybe especially so.
This time when Lev crashes forward, head landing heavy against Cassius’ chest, Cassius manages to catch his gasp before it betrays him. The aftershock runs through him like a thrill and settles alongside his heart, pounding like a bass drum right beneath where Lev’s head is pressed. He wonders if Lev can hear it. If he does, he doesn’t mention. Cassius, in turn, doesn’t mention the way Lev is shaking.
"St. Clair was right. I'm too… too…"
Unbidden, Cassius brings his hand up, resting it gingerly on the back of Lev’s head, bottle of vodka still hanging from the fingers of his other hand. “Shut your mouth.”
It falls quiet around them. Between them. The echo of the sink dripping, the sound of the clock from the hall, Lev’s breathing as he steadies himself. That’s all. Cassius keeps expecting Viklund-Reid to shove him off. For the feeling of a blade pressed to his gut. It never comes.
It feels strange, dangerous even, holding a man who barely an hour before had killed another for daring to do less. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t feel good as well. And that’s wrong, maybe, after the night that Lev’s had. To enjoy holding him like this. To feel soothed by it.
Cassius closes his eyes ever so briefly. Maybe he’s the one who’s fucked. Oh well.
"Look,” Lev says, after a minute or two. “I know we're probably even now, but just in case... if you tell anyone about this, I'll gut you. And all that."
Cassius blinks and laughs, feeling the sound reverberate along his own ribcage and out through Lev’s back. “Sure. As long as you call your cleaner up after.”
And he has no idea where the fuck the impulse comes from, even less so why he listens to it, but he turns his head, presses a kiss to Lev’s hair.
Both men tense. Breath caught. Moment frozen.
Lev pulls back to look at him, expression indecipherable, and Cassius opens his mouth to say something – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, please don’t stab me – he’s not sure what, and then Lev’s phone rings. Like a spell’s been broken, they both flinch away.
“That’s my-”
“Yeah.”
The air feels electrically charged and all at once Cassius can’t figure out how to hold himself in the room, ends up pressed back against the wall where Lev had left him a few minutes earlier as Lev walks from the room, phone pressed to his ear.
“Winters. Sorry to bother you this late—yeah, it’s alright. Would you mind crunching some numbers for me?”
Cassius tips his head back against the wall and exhales through his teeth, blowing his cheeks out, fingers tapping against the plaster.
It took a lot to get him unsettled. And this wasn’t that, he wasn’t unsettled exactly but he was… something.
He closes his eyes, takes another swig and wipes his mouth clean with a rough hand. Shakes his head at nobody but himself. This is stupid. Three hundred and sixty degrees of stupid. Dangerous. That’s what it is.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
When exactly had he developed a crush on a mobster? On the untouchable, inimitable Lev Viklund-Reid?
He lets out a laugh, wild and bubbling, hopes that Lev can’t hear it from the other room.
Oh, Jesus. Alrighty then. So. He’s fucked.
#noncon touch cw#alcohol cw#death cw#dark timeline au#cassius bergen#lev viklund reid#i love them so so much
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An incomplete list of birds I think are cool and why
Up first is a real good bird its crows
I like crows a lot, and not just because theyre cool black birds and i like and appreciate the goth *~*aesthetic*~* though that is part of it to be sure! They're also really smart! They use tools, they do things for fun, they have a sense of value and exchange, they dance and play in the snow, they wear hats (pictured above!) and in general are very cool. They’re considered bad luck but that’s just because they’re scavengers and are smart enough to see something doing something stupid and go "that’s gonna be dead soon and then i can eat it." Fucking superb you funky little death omen.
Up next is another good bird, its Crow 2 electric boogaloo, aka the Raven
Its bigger its stronger its smarter too the next member of the corvid crew.
This is as good a time as any to mention that I just like birds I don’t actually know how verifiable any of my information is. I’m aware of that. But i like ravens! They’re like crows but more! I remember reading a story about a raven who scared a small mob of crows and then laughed about it. And another about a raven who fed its mate who had a broken beak so she didn’t die. They’re smart, and have emotions and that’s cool.
Next is the other side of the goth bird aesthetic its the albatross!
Lookit that bird! Lookit those wings! Long thin wings for gliding and cruising on ocean winds. I think they’re neat because they’re (the only?) Birds that can lock their wings and fly while they’re asleep! They do this and cruise long distances over the ocean. That’s cool! Additionally, symbolism. Any bird ripe with symbolism is good in my book even if the symbol is regret. They’re good birds that do nothing to harm anyone so killing one is "a sin" and anyone who does so wears regret around their necks. I haven’t read the rime of the ancient mariner in a long time but i remember enjoying it.
Next bird!
Red-tailed hawk! These friends live in my area of New York and they’re really cool. They’re also the first bird I ever looked at and went "oh shit that’s a cool thing i think i like birds" because when i was in 4th grade this girl whomst i hated, her father was like. A wildlife person and he did a demonstration and he brought in one of these fellows and i was awestruck. They are very neat and even if i don’t know a lot about them, i like them. And they were the first bird i was able to identify in the wild going "that bird has a red tail and it looks like a hawk i bet its that!" And then being right. Also i think its the bird that tobias animorphs got stuck as. And i liked those books even if they’re fucked up as hell. 10/10 good bird though.
Moving on! Secretary Bird!
Secretary bird is cool! The guy who named it called it that because his secretary put pens in her hair, and he thought the feathers sticking out back looked like pens. Which is pretty funny. But funny names aside, these are cool birds! They stomp on snakes to kill them for food. Which is kinda badass. Don’t get me wrong i like snakes, but these fuckers see a snake and go "oh shit, food, and just wail on that motherfucker til its tenderized and ready to eat. They’re also fast, and really distinct looking which are both bonus points.
Next bird is Owls! Specifically barn owls, tyto alba.
Pros: very pretty bird. Look at those patterns. They've got the moon for a face. Theyre kinda spooky
Cons: kinda hard to draw. They all look p similar tbh.
Barn owls are among my favorite birds for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the guardians of gahoole series. I loved those books and at one point read the first like. 13 in a single day. Soren was my favorite, and then coryn too. And nyra was a good villain. Idk its a good series about owls! Barn owls are silent fliers and have very good hearing because their ear holes are not symmetrical on their head which allows them to triangulate more accurately. And as previously stated, v pretty.
The next bird is a common friend, and to be honest not very popular, but i love pigeons
Pigeons are rad! People hate them, because they're plentiful and kind of a nuisance in cities and they poop everywhere, but non public pooping is a human concept and birds aren’t bound by your laws! Pigeons are beautiful, look at that iridescent plumage. I also think they’re pretty cute as far as birds go. It used to be the case that people kept pigeons as pets in cages on rooftops and they were showbirds, bred for ornamentation. I forget why this fell out of common practice, but for some reason people just stopped doing that and now everyone hates the city chickens... :c
Speaking of chickens... Chickens!
Chickens are great birds, they’re the mom friend. I think they’re just like, pretty funny as birds in general, but at the same time they’re pretty cute sometimes. And they’re friend shaped! Which is a plus. Besides that I love reading all sorts of different stories about how people will put different animals in a chicken’s nest and she’ll just. Adopt them. Like, oh I sit on you and therefore I am your mother. It’s a very fun instinct that they have and I find it really endearing.
I don’t have a smooth transition to this next one, but next is the Peregrine falcon!
These little fuckers are cool for what I think is a pretty well known reason: their ability to become a perfectly aerodynamic little bird bullet and dive at impossibly high speeds. They’re not big birds, but if I’m not misremembering (and no I will not take 10 minutes to search for the video I’m about to mention) but I believe I saw a video of a peregrine taking out a bird at least twice its size, a fellow raptor who was encroaching on its territory, by diving out out nowhere at blazing speed and raking the fucker in a high speed flyby. Now I hate to see birds be taken out, but that’s nature, and frankly that ability is kinda cool.
There are more birds I like! But these are some of them!
#long post#birds#crow#raven#chicken#falcon#hawk#owl#pigeon#secretary bird#albatross#birds are cool okay?
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mafia!verse: hunting season 7
Tim's still unconscious when Jason gets a call from Dick. Alfred has taken Damian home to change and grab some stuff for Tim, B is sitting with Tim in the room, and Cass is standing outside the room like a sentinel holding vigil.
Holding vigil. Fuck, Jason hopes that’s not what this is.
Jason hasn’t seen Tim for himself, yet, he’s due to go in when B gets tired of sitting in the dark and watching Tim’s heart monitor. Yeah, that’s gonna be a while.
He runs a hand over his face. They’d made it to the hospital in record time considering they initially were on their way towards Tim’s place and had to do a complete turn around.
Machin, supposedly, was here but by the time Jason and Cass burst in he’d long gone. Jason isn’t sure if he wants to thank the guy or throttle him. Frankly, Jason isn’t sure if he could beat him in a fight. Machin’s surprisingly competent for a nerd who reads Marxist theory to get his jollies. Maybe that’s why he and Tim get along so well. You know. When they actually get along and aren’t at crosshairs with each other.
“What,” Jason snaps into the phone.
“Fourth level east side parking garage,” Dick says. “I need you.”
Jason’s temper flares as he carefully keeps his voice low, “Replacement’s currently out cold with a fuckin’ tube down his throat and you want me to walk you from your car to the hospital? Are you serious right now, Goldie?”
“Jason,” Dick repeats, voice gaining a dark crackle that Jason’s only heard a handful of times before in his life. It’s the kind of dark that makes Jason’s hair stand on end and his stomach turn into painful knots. Dick doesn’t get pissed often — at least, not like this — but when that man snaps. Fuck. If the sun projected absolute darkness it would be just as blinding and just as horrifying. “I need you.”
“If I miss my turn at his bedside and he dies before I can verbally tear a strip out of him it’s going to be your ass.”
Dick hangs up before Jason can. He walks out of the waiting room, catches Cass’ eye down the hall and jerks his head in the vague direction of where he thinks the parking garage is. Cass nods once, otherwise completely still.
If someone were to stab a spear straight into the earth, through the mantle and the core and out the other end, grinding the rotation of the planet to a sudden halt and stopping the rest of the solar system with it, that spear would be right where Cass is standing.
His sister is one scary fuck and he’s glad he’s never done anything that would warrant her showing up at his door.
The fourth level of the parking garage is empty except for Dick’s car right in the center of the level. Jason glances around for security cameras and notices that they’re all pointed away. O’s work, probably.
“What,” Jason calls out, voice ringing out as he approaches Dick’s car, “What the fuck was so important you had to call me out here? I meant it. He dies and I’m not there to yell at him to bring him back to this side of life? I’m kicking your ass so hard that you could get an imprint of my fucking boot treads off of it.”
Dick pushes off the side of the car, striding towards him, expression worryingly blank, and he shoves something into Jason’s chest.
Jason grunts, catching it before it can fall. Keys.
“You wanted valet parking?” Jason snaps.
“I’m not you,” Dick says apropos of fucking nothing. Jason stares at him, wondering if maybe Dick’s the one who needs medical attention and is being weird about asking for it.
“Were you so riled up to talk to me that you started before I got here? What are you talking about? Of course you aren’t me.”
“I’m not you,” Dick repeats, eyes sharp and burning like suns set into his face. “I’m good at people to a degree. People give me what I want because I can smile pretty and because I’m good at making what I want seem like something they want too. But when that doesn’t work all bets are off for me.”
“Yeah, and?”
“I have Fabricci,” Dick says, “Do whatever you need to do. Get him to talk. Get him to spill every single detail. Because I could only get so far and if I pressed further I’d press to hard and end up breaking him and then he’d be useless.”
Jason’s fist clenches around the keys, metal digging into his palm.
“You have who.”
Dick’s eyes blaze steady and mean. He doesn’t repeat himself.
Jason can feel his vision narrowing in on the car, blood in his heart and his veins and arteries rising to a war-drum march of bastard, fucker, shit-heel, piece of garbage, kill, slaughter, revenge.
Jason breathes out, a hiss through his teeth that feels like it should ignite sparks.
He tilts his head to the right, cracking his neck, then to the left, and then rolls his shoulders.
“You call me if he wakes up,” Jason says, shoulder checking Dick as he passes. The car unlocks with a chirp and Jason practically rips the turn open. “Tell Cass to come down in about…fifteen minutes.”
“You think you’ll need that long?”
“Oh, no. I’ll have him singing for me in ten,” Jason replies. “The rest of it is just because I don’t want him coherent enough to string together two words without pissing himself. You told O?”
He smiles down at the man lying all cramped and small inside, unconscious but not for long. He’s already a little beat up and Jason’s willing to bet there’s matching blood splatter and bruises on Dick if he was willing to take a closer look.
“Cameras off, and she’s got people diverting people away from this parking garage,” Dick replies. “It’s staff only anyway. Go wild.”
“Oh Dick,” Jason sighs, slamming the trunk shut again — let the bastard wake up in the dark and know that as frightening as that is, it’ll be even worse once he can see again — “You even need to say that?”
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*Cracks knuckles* Ow. Let's see, how about: A6, 16. B1, 12. C1, 2, 3, 5, 8. D4. E2, 3, 7. F2, 5, 10, 12 (Sorry, but also not sorry) I6. L1, 2, 4, and 9 :)
hoo boy that took a while
A6) Does your OC tend to assume their interpretation of events and reality is correct, or do they question it? I.e., “I’m sure that’s what you said” versus “It’s possible I misheard you.”
Ah, he questions himself a lot. Maybe he wasn’t listening well enough because he was too distracted by being anxious? Maybe he misinterpreted this event, because his background knowledge on it was lacking, he doesn’t know the full story and opinions from all sides, he’s not sure he can form a well educated opinion on this--
A16) Does your OC have to go through their own trials to learn a lesson, or do they listen and learn from observation and lecture? I.e., does your OC listen when someone tries to tell them the importance of budgeting, or do they have to go experience what happens if you don’t budget first?
Hector needs to do it himself for Science, because how else is he to truly know, if not from his own personal experience? Trusting what people tell you is good and all but gathering data yourself is better.
Unless we’re talking about raider politics, in which case there’s not really a good way for Hector to gather data without seriously endangering him and friends, so he’ll just listen to Gage.
B1) Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?
Generally, he believes it’s necessary to give people respect before you can expect it in return. He learns that many people do not in fact think the same way. He’ll still want to extend basic courtesy to them even if they’re assholes, unless they disrespect/piss him off to the extremes, or if their actions threaten his position and in turn the well-being of himself and friends.
B12) Your OC orders something to eat and gets their order done in a pretty wrong way, something they can’t just pick off or whatnot to correct, or something major is missing. What do they do?
Have a back and forth about it in his head – ah it’s not so bad it’s still fine, but then again he really wanted it differently… but he doesn’t wanna bother them and be entitled about it, but man… :( Might get close to pointing it out but chances are slim that he’ll actually get someone to correct the order. It’ll be disappointing but he’ll eat it.
C1) Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?
Eeeh, not a super strong one. His baseline are general societal morals and norms, like… help person good, kill person bad. Most of the time he’ll base his actions on what feels right for him and for his friends. He’ll consider: will doing this make me feel bad afterwards? Will it have a negative impact on other people, who don’t deserve it? Is that consequence worth it because it saves my own skin or helps/protects my friends?
C2) Would your OC feel bad if they acted against their morals? If not, would they find a way to excuse themselves for it?
Bringing back the point about sacrificing for the greater good. He’d consider that the morally right thing to do because it impacts fewer people negatively. But making that sacrifice endangers his friends, whose lives for him personally are worth much more than an abstract crowd of people. So he chooses to not do the thing for the greater good and save his friends instead, and yes, he would feel very bad on the one hand, because oh boy. As far as most people are concerned, he did a horrible terrible thing and was extremely selfish and absolutely chose wrong. But on the plus side, and that’s a very big huge plus- he still has his friends. And still having his friends makes him feel less bad than how he would have felt if he didn’t have his friends anymore.
So uh… yes and no.
C3) Is it important for them to be with people (socially, intimately, whatever) whose major ideological tenets align with their own?
More or less. He can’t hang out well with people he completely disagrees with in every way, of course that’s not going to work. But Hector is… how to say… kinda boring when it comes to ideals and opinions and all that stuff. He just doesn’t have very strong ones in general. Which can make him a little bland and potentially spineless, but also pretty agreeable. As long as they don’t constantly shove their great big opinions in his face, they’ll get along well enough.
C5) Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?
I think I kind of answered this in C2. Basic morals do get thrown out the window if friends are threatened, or if he gets pissed off enough. He’d have to be really pissed off though. As well as being post having-grown-a-spine(-at-least-partially). Hurting people bad but being insufferable to Hector also bad so guess what fucker
C8) Is your OC more practical or ideal morally? I.e., do they hold people to high expectations of behavior even if it’s not realistic for the situation, or do they have a more realistic approach and adapt their morality to be more practical?
Again a little tricky because I’m having trouble coming up with a scenario that would help me make up my mind with a definite answer. I’m leaning more towards a practical approach 1) because Hector is more of a realist/pessimist in general, 2) he doesn’t want to like… be overly demanding
D4) Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not? If they are immortal, would they rather not be?
The more he thinks about it the more meaningless life seems to get for someone like him. Solution: don’t think about it! Repress that shit because it’s not like you can do anything about it anyway. Also an involuntary solution but one that helps nonetheless: have shit memory so that you don’t feel like you’ve lived too many lifetimes.
If you were to ask him, the answer you get completely depends on the headspace he’s in at the moment. If he’s just vibing, going about his day and things are going well then yeah! Immortality isn’t so bad. If you catch him on an off day, things aren’t going so well, maybe he just thought about having to deal with losing his friends eventually… then you obviously get the opposite answer.
E2) Which of the nine types of intelligence is your OC strongest in? Weakest? (Linguistic, existential, naturalist, et cetera)
I know I talked about this before and I grouped them from strong to medium to weak but I can’t for the life of me find the post anymore (thanks tumblr for your useless garbage search and tagging features). So I can’t even check if I’m still on the same wavelength with past me :v
From strongest to weakest we have…
Logical-mathematical
Spatial
Linguistic
Bodily-kinesthetic
Musical
Naturalist
Interpersonal
Existential
Intrapersonal
E3) How many languages do they speak?
Three… and a half.
The half language being Swiss German, because I don’t know what the fuck it is even after graduating from language uni
The others: Standard German, English, and French, from strongest to weakest.
E7) Are they a good note-taker? Are they a good test-taker? Do exams make them nervous?
Yes, yes, and yes. He’s very good at taking notes considering most of science is documentation. And even now when he’s not doing a lot of Formal Science things, he still writes in his journal almost daily, summing up events and making notes of important things. He gets nervous with tests with all the self doubt if he really prepared well enough and the unpredictability of the questions that will be asked, but once the pen is in his hand, he just blazes through it.
F2) What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?
Someplace underground, safe and sturdy like a vault. Industrial aesthetic is welcome and he wants to have plenty of space, but it shouldn’t feel huge and empty. Needs to be homey, even if it might feel a little rustic to the average person. Having it built into a mountain would be sick, so he still has the perfect protection from the sun, but he doesn’t have to crawl out of a hole in the ground like some kind of worm – instead he opens the door and gets the most amazing view immediately.
… and I promise, only after writing the above did I remember that he pretty much lives in a mountain already, just a plastic one. Close enough.
F5) How handy are they? Can they fix appliances, cars, cabinets, et cetera?
Quite handy indeed. He can fix most things, he usually just needs some time to (re-)familiarize himself with the object and its functions. A lot of it also involves trial and error, but he’ll figure it out eventually.
F10) Do they engage in any of the arts? How good do you intend them to be? Would they agree they are?
He’d actually be really good at pen/pencil drawing, what with making technical illustrations and blueprints of Science Stuff, but it’s not a skill that’s applied in an artsy setting. When the goal is to draw for the sake of drawing, evoking emotion, or paint with a brush, that’s probably when shit would fall apart. I can’t remember who the artist was, but it reminds me of this little comic about Paladin Danse – in which he’s extremely good at technical drawings but then he attempts to draw a dog and it just looks…wrong.
Now with music, he’s more likely to engage in it in an artful way. He likes to sing, even if he very rarely does it now that he has people around him more often than not. Before, he’d just be alone in his lonely place and sing and scream to his heart’s content, but now he’s too awkward to do it, because someone might hear him. He is pretty good at it though, considering how much alone time he’s had to practice.
F12) Would they enjoy a theme park?
The rides and junk food? Yes absolutely. But the giant crowd and every little consequence it entails, nope, no thank you, he’ll just leave it be.
You bet he’s gonna go on the rides at nuka world though once they got them back up and working, because the crowd isn’t as big as pre-war and he’s the fucking overboss and can skip lines and restrict access to others however he damn pleases.
I6) Could they eat the same thing they enjoy over and over and not get bored of it quickly?
He can, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. The first month or so at nuka world he almost exclusively lives off of some shitty nutrient bars. In some scenarios, food just exists as sustenance and not as something to be enjoyed.
In a preferable scenario though, it is to be enjoyed. And I think while he would get bored of it after a while, it’d take longer than for the average person. And even then, he’s just happy he can eat something enjoyable at whatever pace he likes instead of having to scarf down Compressed Nutrient
L1) How have your characters changed since you created them?
He stopped existing in a void, which is a pretty damn big change. Now he has a whole world and other characters to interact with, that contribute to shaping and developing his personality.
L2) What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?
Oof, this is hard. Maybe… getting to know yourself? Accepting change, personal growth?
L4) Would you hang out with your OC if you could?
I’m actually not sure sjdfsdnsv
Like yes he is sweet bean who must be protected, but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a weird little old man. I guess if we can just chill listening to music and he can go off about crustaceans or something and we speak The Horrible Language, why the fuck not
L9) How did you come up with your OC?
Masks cool. Me especially like gas masks. Unhinged science characters also cool. Make generic but still sliiiightly unique design and make it a point to not have him be a young pretty boy character despite having immortality. Add lots of weaknesses to compensate for the immortality. Add science personality things and complete the picture with projections of my own personality. Boom, you’ve got yourself the beginnings of a Hector
#hector messerli#i did not proofread please wish me luck from the future#corvidexoskeleton#ask meme#ask#hector ref
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Healing Hands Part 1
Cable x reader fic here! Should be about three parts, one each #metalarmmonday lol
Enjoy!
It had been a long shift...like 18 hours long. The kind of shift where someone had thrown up on you at least six hours ago, and the bus had smelled like urine, and you were pretty sure the rain had frizzed your hair into a wild mane, and all you really wanted was a hot shower and sleep.
Well...at least you got the first one.
Fresh out of the shower and half asleep as you stumbled towards your bed, the pounding on your front door made you stop and wonder if homicide by exhaustion was a legal defense.
Groaning softly, you secured the robe around you tighter and paused at the door to grab your baseball bat, tucking it behind one leg as you cracked open the door.
“Doc!” a cheery, red latex covered face greeted you.
Groaning louder you shook your head vehemently, “No Wade, I’m not stitching up whatever dumbass you’ve roped into helping you this time,” you refuted, trying to close the door against his foot.
“Haha, ouchies doc! You’re gonna break my foot!” Ward declared loudly—too fucking loudly for 3am in this neighborhood and in this building.
“Goddamnit, shut up and get in here,” you hissed, unlatching the door and throwing it open. Ward gave a quick salute and then grabbed the—metal arm?!—of someone and dragged him into your apartment.
The other person was an older man, maybe in his 50’s, with silvery black hair and a buzzed undercut, but the most interesting feature was surely the metal arm and bits of metal on his shoulder peeking out from his blood soaked grey t-shirt.
“What happened?” you demanded as Ward carried the unconscious man back to the small bathroom that was just off your bedroom.
“Bad guys with lots of guns. Alien tech apparently, and no one from SHIELD thought they should share the news with us that these fuckers are running around trying to kill mutant kids,” Wade told you, voice pleasant, minus the acerbic note that greatly sounded like he was looking to hunt someone down and turn them into sushi with his swords.
“Right, give me a second,” you muttered, hurrying to your closet to pull out a clean pair of scrubs and hastily pulled them on, ignoring the fact that Wade was cat calling you as you did.
The first few times this had happened with whoever Wade pulled into his bullshit you had been totally unprepared, and confused as to how he had found you.
Then he had lifted his mask and told you his real name and the realization came that he had been on your rounds in the oncology ward.
So here you were, a year later, stealing medical supplies to stitch up whomever Wade dragged into your life, praying that you’d never get caught.
Falling to your knees beside the tub, you ignored the fact that Wade had taken a perch on your sink and was drawing on your mirror in lipstick.
A quick glance told you it was your least favorite color, so no loss there.
Turning your attention to the man in the tub, you quickly went to work, cutting off his shirt to assess the damage. “Hooooly fuck,” you whispered, wide eyed.
Half of the man’s body was metal from the waist up. But that...that wasn’t possible, was it?
The real issue here was the bullet hole in the man’s right shoulder and another along his abdomen. Both were bleeding profusely, steadily.
Looking up at Wade you smacked his leg, “Help me undress him, I don’t want to get more blood on his clothes than I have to,” you ordered.
“Oh goodie, can we see if his cock is metal? I bet it is,” Wade murmured eagerly and you snorted, shaking your head in disbelief.
“You are...” you huffed as you wrestled with the man’s torso, lifting him so you could get at the torn pieces of his shirt, “the thirstiest man I have ever met,” you gasped, settling the man’s shoulders back against the tub wall.
“Aww thank you,” Wade purred, taking the blood stained pants and boots along with him as he hopped onto your counter again.
Smirking, you quickly pulled out a clean wash cloth and turned on the hot water, soaking it before you wrung it out over the wounds.
Metal flashed and pinched—the man was awake and growling profanities at you, your wrist firmly in his grip.
“What the fuck?! Who the fuck are you?!”
“Hey Cable, have a nice nap? This is the doc, she’s our friend so don’t break her, okay?” Ward called tossing a tampon at the man’s—Cable’s—head.
A long moment passed in which the only sound was Cable’s heavy breathing and then, he released you. His blazing—literally, that left eye was glowing—gaze turned to you and you could see the mistrust that still lingered there.
Giving him a faint smile, you leaned back a little, giving him space. “Hey, Mr-uh-Cable,” you murmured hesitantly and stalled out when his eyes narrowed in a glare.
“‘S just Cable,” he rasped, deep voice sounding loud in your small bathroom.
“Right, well you can call me Doc like Wade does, or Nurse Smith, whichever you prefer,” you told him, “but for now, I need you to hold still so I can get the bullets out of you and stop that bleeding.”
Cable studied you a moment and then nodded, begrudgingly. Your hands moved quickly after that, pulling your hair back into a bun, snapping on sterile gloves, and going to work.
To his credit, Cable did little more than grunt and wince when you pulled the bullet from his shoulder and hissed softly when you stitched both wounds up.
When you had finished, you guided him to sit on the toilet and applied fresh bandages to each wound, occasionally peering up at him from where you knelt between his legs.
Ward chattered on in the background, for which you were grateful because by this point, you weren’t sure if Cable hated you in particular or just had a shitty attitude about free medical aid.
Either way, when you were done, you rose unsteadily to your feet, head swimming with exhaustion and adrenaline. When you swayed, black spots dancing in your vision, you felt something warm and metal close around your elbow and hold you steady.
“Easy there doc.”
When the spots had cleared from your vision you looked around the bathroom in confusion, “Where’s Wade?” you asked, feeling groggy.
Cable rose to his feet, a little more steadily than you had, and reached for his pants and boots, still sitting on your counter where Wade had left them.
“Raiding your fridge I think,” was the gruff reply you got as he struggled to pull on his pants without bending over.
Quickly, you knelt and helped to guide the fabric over his muscular thighs—holy mother of god, how is a man his age this hot?! you wondered desperately.
“I-I got it,” he growled, trying to brush your hands away.
Frowning up at him you scoffed and rocked back, waving to his boots, “By all means, rip your stitches open and have me do them all over again,” you snapped sarcastically.
He glared down at you, eye glowing, and then sighed in frustration, looking away.
Taking that as your cue to help him, you quickly guided his feet into the boots and laced them up before standing once more, your head pounding ferociously.
“I think I’ve got a shirt that’ll fit you,” you murmured, swaying a little as you went to your closet and pulled out an oversized T-shirt you had won at some raffle.
Tossing it to him you grinned when he unfurled it and read the front, his scarred, displeased visage deepening.
“Don’t get caught with your pants down, get tested...and clap back at the Clap,” he read out loud, disbelievingly.
Nodding, you grinned when he scowled at you, “It was a public health initiative to try and get people to get tested.”
When he only scowled deeper, you shrugged, “Whatever man, wear it or don’t, but you’ll attract more attention without it, especially with all that metal,” you muttered, waving a hand toward his chest before striding away and leaving him to his decision.
As you entered your kitchen you sighed heavily, because true to what Cable had said, Wade was rummaging through your fridge, even as he ate from a box of cookies.
Scowling, you stormed over and snatched them out of his hands and nudged the fridge door shut with your hip.
“Stop eating my food Wade. I’m the one who worked an 18 hour shift and then had a stranger shoved into my tub for stitches. I get the cookies,” you told him tiredly.
“You know doc, that’s why I come to you,” Wade told you, leaning against the counter to peer at you through his mask as you ate a cookie.
“Mmph curkies?” you asked through a mouthful of Oreo.
“No silly! Because you’re the best at making people feel better even when it’s a really shitty day,” he told you and something in his voice made you pause.
“You have a shitty day?” you asked hesitantly; trying to gauge his emotions through the mask was hard.
He shrugged and stared down at the countertop. “Vanessa was killed a year ago. So, lots of shitty days,” he replied quietly.
Something in the middle of your chest ached and you slid the package is Oreos across be counter towards him.
Lifting his mask back up to rest on his forehead, he gave you a small, grateful smile before shoving two in his mouth. Smirking, you laughed softly and leaned on the counter across from him, sharing the cookies and silence.
Heavy bootsteps caught your attention and you looked up to find Cable walking slowly over, face lined with pain.
When he leaned against the counter you slid the Oreos toward him and shrugged when he shook his head no. Turning away, you dug through your work bag until you found your prescription pad and waved it to Cable.
“I can write you something for the pain,” you offered, huffing in annoyance when he immediately shook his head in denial. “C’mon, recovery from two bullet wounds isn’t going to be easy or quick, you don’t have to suffer and be fucking macho,” you snapped.
Cable’s eye blazed at you as he met your gaze angrily, “I said no. I don’t need to dull the pain,” he growled.
Scoffing angrily, you threw the pad back into your bag and turned to Wade, “As always, it’s great to see you, but I’ve got to sleep. Don’t get shot on the way home,” you ordered, heading to the door to hold it open for them.
Wade snatched four more cookies(in each hand) and tugged his mask down before sauntering over and leaning down to press a weirdly adorable kiss to your cheek.
“Thanks for the fix and the cookies doc,” he replied warmly.
Rolling your eyes you hid a smile and leaned up to hug him, “I’m sorry about Vanessa,” you whispered, giving him an extra squeeze before releasing him.
He nodded and then looked over to where Cable was making his way slowly across the room, sighing exaggeratedly. “Ughh come on old man, time to let the nice lady sleep!” he declared before striding across the room and physically helping Cable.
To your surprise the older man didn’t object, and, not to your surprise, only gave you a nod of thanks before the door closed between you.
Hastily you locked it and then stripped off your dirty scrubs before collapsing in bed.
The mess in the bathroom would just have to wait.
Hey guyyys...so I had this little plot bunny hoping around and thought I’d share! How’s everyone doing this Monday? Is this a good update for a #metalarmmonday / #mancrushmonday ?! More parts to follow!! Let me know if you want to be tagged!
Xoxo 💋
#buckybrigade#cable imagine#cable prompt#cable is a daddy#cable deadpool#cable#cable x reader#deadpool2#wade wilson#josh brolin prompts#josh brolin fanfic#josh brolin is daddy#josh brolin#thebuckybrigade#healing hands#healing hands cable fic#metalarmmonday#mancrushmonday#part one#healing hands part one
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Time passed, I didn't even know how many hours I stayed here, laying on the floor. But then I realised. Why would Vee leave me? Except for the obvious that is. But she could have left me on so many occasions. So why now?
And then I remembered. Natalie.
This bitch.
Standing up again, I went for my room. Opening the drawer and taking my gun out, I put it in the holster. Turning around, I looked at the bed. It was undone this morning and now, it was perfectly clean. Did Vee do it? As I was going to check my pillow, my phone rang loudly, startling me.
What the hell do-
It's me, Ran. I've one good new, and a bad one. What do you choose first?
The bad one.
The girls have been kidnapped by the Yamaguchi-gumi and-
What??
I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to. I tried so hard to keep Vee safe, I did everything to make her live. And the first time that I'm letting her alone, she gets kidnapped??
BUT. The good new is that we found their hideout.
Tell me
Wait I-
I. Said. Tell. Me. Ran
Hearing his sigh through the phone, I tightened my grip on it.
Come, we're getting ready
Hanging up after his words, I tried my best to stay calm. I really did.
But then, something switched. I can't even remember what happened, but the moment I regained consciousness, the whole place was destroyed. Mirrors were shattered on the floor, broken chairs were laying here and there, the bedsheets were all torn apart. But strangely, I relaxed quickly, taking deep breathes.
Those fuckers will have their head ripped off their bodies.
What happened? I need the full explanation.
Now all sat around the wooden table, I was looking over the informations given by Ran. The other executives looked stressed as fuck, because they probably knew that if something happened, I would kill them all.
Natalie and Vee left your apartment only an hour after you went outside. According to the security cameras, Vee has been dragged all the way out of your building.
She didn't consent then
Turning to Koko, Ran smiled a bit while looking at the papers.
No she didn't indeed. They took a cab. Following the city footages, they arrived at an intersection and a car drove right into theirs. The taxi driver died directly, and the girls survived. But, one member of the Yamaguchi-gumi took them.
Sanzu didn't look particularly distressed, but the man never gave a shit except for his pills.
What else?
Our meeting got interrupted by the door opening, revealing my advisor, Takeomi Akashi, accompanied by a very familiar face.
Amico mio! Glad to see those injuries of yours healed quickly! I told you we were going to see each other again!
The guys seemed astonished by Dante's apparition but I wasn't. We stayed in contact, and he told me the Yamaguchi-gumi would plot something. Guess he wasn't wrong.
Dante. Come sit with us
So, what's the plan hm? Gonna blow some brains out yeah?
Grinning at me, Dante shook his gun in a playful manner.
That's the plan yeah
Laughing loudly, he patted my shoulder. Turning to Ran, he nodded.
What I was saying. Natalie's father is dead, as you all know it. The most logical explanation for her move is-
She thought we were toying with her. We didn't inform her about her father and she probably came up with this because of that. She supposed we didn't know much and she decided to find him by herself
But corpses don't speak, her father won't come back
Listening to Rindou and Takeomi discussing, I turned to Dante.
Did you bring your men?
Of course! La Cosa Nostra isn't joking with allies.
Standing up and slamming my palms against the surface, I looked at my executives one by one.
Get ready to go, we're gonna show them what Bonten's members are made of
Bellissimo! Let the war begin!
-Mikey
It's starting to look like a movie now 🥴
YUP WE SAID HBO MAX. STARZ. DISNEY +
I woke up tied to a chair, mouth gagged. The déjà vu was a bitch. A hostage once again, this time at the hands of my friend. My eyes burned. The entire time we had been looking for the mole and I had brought it right to Bonten’s doorstep. I was so stupid, I thought to myself in that chair, tears pooling beneath my lash line. Natalie was pointing out my weaknesses this entire time, using them against me while she was weaponizing them whenever it pertained to Mikey.
Mikey. I thought about how he was so quick to question Natalie about why she was such a bitch to me that day she came to the hideout all bruised up. He was angry at her for mistreating me even then. Did he know what happened? Was he coming? As if I had summoned it, the image of him pointing the gun at Nat popped up into my head. He’d be sure to pull the trigger now.
A door creaked open to my right and a tall man emerged from it. He grinned upon seeing me. Good morning, Sunshine, he beamed, leaning close into my face. I titled my head back, away from him. Oh don’t be like that, Vee.
Venus, I hissed.
Natalie was right. He whistled. You don’t like strangers calling you by your nickname.
The mere mention of the traitor sent rage flooding through my body. Where is she?
He beckoned his head near my back where I couldn’t see, and moments later Natalie came walking into the room. Small bandages littered her arms and face, a plaster on her nose, but otherwise she looked fine.
Are you proud of yourself, Nat? I asked. Usually I’d be crying but I was too angry for tears. I wanted to rip her throat out, carve out her insides. Maybe Mikey was rubbing off on me more than I thought? Do you feel accomplished?
More than I ever have sitting like a duck in Bonten. Manjiro can’t even run an organization. I was foolish to think he could find my father.
Don’t speak his fucking name. The venom in my tone surprised us both. Do you think you’ll live after what you did? That he’d let you walk away for what you did to me?
You overestimate yourself, Venus. You’re nothing to Mikey but a one night stand that he just got to fuck again. I tried to pretend like her words didn’t hurt. Like the possibility of them being true didn’t sting. See how quick Senju came along? That’ll be him a week after you’re gone. Don’t think for a second your pussy’s so good Mikey’d start a losing war for it.
I fought off her hurtful words with ammo of my own. This isn’t just about me though. You disrespected Bonten. Spit in the leader and Second in Command’s faces as you betrayed them, after they saved your life no less. Do you really think they’d let that slide? That you’d get to run off with your dad after this and live a happy life? I laughed. You’ll be running the rest of your life, Natalie. That’s if you make it out of here alive.
She stormed toward me and slapped me with blazing eyes, my face turning at the impact. I slowly turned my head back to her. For your sake, I hope he’s alive. Maybe never being able to live in a place for longer than a week will be more bearable if it’s with your father.
Natalie backed away from me like I was poisonous, face horrified. The consequences of her actions must’ve just settled in. She stormed out of the room, leaving me with the unknown man again.
What a cat fight. You’re feisty, Vee. And you’re right. Natalie isn’t going to live long. And do you want to know a secret? Her father didn’t either. We killed him almost as soon as we took him as a hostage. He’s been rotting from before Natalie started working for us. My stomach dropped at the ease in which he described their barbarism. A part of it sunk for Nat. She bet her life on a dead man. I’d have never thought you had that in you from what Natalie described.
And what else did Natalie say about me?
That you were Mikey’s plaything, close to him in fact. It’s a part of the reason why we brought you here. See, we want to know more about Bonten. And what better way than to ask the woman who sleeps with its leader?
I looked at him bewildered. Did Natalie really think Mikey told me stuff about Bonten? I’m sorry to disappoint, but if my pussy’s not good enough to start wars over it’s certainly not good enough to have Mikey divulging top-secret information to me.
See. He clicked his tongue. I don’t quite believe that. But it’s okay, he began, walking over to a metal table and picking up a knife. Natalie also told us about certain injuries you obtained in Mikey’s care. His hands grazed my thighs, and even though they left no stitches, I tensed exactly where the wounds once lay without meaning to. Right there? Now what if I just—
He shoved the entire knife into my thigh, sending a searing pain running through my entire body. A blood curdling scream erupted from my throat.
Can I let you in on another little secret, Vee? We’ve been recording this VoiceMemo on your phone the entire time, he confessed, leaning close to my face, which was now hot and wet with tears. Uh huh. Survived the car accident. We’re gonna send this to Mikey right now. So let’s give him a parting scream for the road, aye?
And as much as I didn’t want to, I couldn’t help the wail that shook my vocal chords when he yanked it out.
Mikey, I sobbed internally. Please help me.
#🗝; citizen#🗝; mikey#🗝; chronicles of vee: vol. 1#we said go big or go home.#oof and goodnight my dear!!! sleep well!
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Razorblades And Lemon Juice (pt. 1)
Characters: Vampire Negan X Reader
Warnings: none yet ;)
Notes: This idea just kinda snuck up on me so I hope you guys like it, not sure how many parts are gonna be in this one but if there’s something you always wanted to see a vamp Negan do send it my way and I will try to work it in if I can ♡♡♡
Once again let me know if u want on my Negan tag list ♡♡♡♡
—————————————
Tears streaked down your face as you stared up at the large throne of human skeletons and barbed wire. The creature that sat sprawled legged on its leather seat smirking down at you.
Sure he looked human enough, but there wasn’t an ounce of humanity left in Negan.
He shifted forward in his throne, his irises glowing a soft gold as he rubbed his gloved hand down his face.
“you know, you should save those tears for the living” he drawled deeply.
You shook your head “I’m begging for your help sir…please”.
He hummed, a wide smile showcasing his dimples. “I know” he rasped “ya see… I like hearing you fucking beg”.
His heavy whisper sent chills down your spine as he rose to his feet.
Stumbling to your feet you quickly retreated away from his approaching figure.
“You want me to fucking save your community, kill the fucking demons at your door…”
Your back bumped into the cold stone wall making you jump. His eyes glowing ominously in the shadows as he leaned uncomfortably close to your face licking his lips.
“I…I understand tha…”
“Oh you fucking understand me know?” he snarled “darlin, you don’t know shit”.
Your heart was racing, this was such a horrible idea. Negan was a monster, a vicious killer that had terrorized your community for as long as you could remember.
Why would he ever help you?
He glared at you before moving back a step pointing at you swiftly, a deep chuckle rumbling up through his chest as he cocked his head at you.
“Bet you think I’m a fucking monster, right?”
You whimpered closing your eyes in fear.
Growling he gripped your face harshly between his gloved fingers.
“Speak when your fucking spoken to!!!” his roaring command making you cry out, shaking in fear.
“I…I’m sorry…yes, we…we were told you killed hundreds of innocent people” you sobbed. He released your face with a hiss “yeah I’m the fucking monster…but it was your fucking kind that spilt first blood…”
You shook your head in protest before quickly going still as he lifted his leather clad hand in a silent warning.
Shaking his head he clenched his teeth so you could see his long incisors.
“My beautiful, sweet Lucille…a woman who wouldn’t harm a fucking fly”. He growled “you creature’s dragged her out of our fucking home while I was slumbering”.
He watched as your brow creased in confusion, leaning forward so his lips were by your ear he whispered “she was fucking human by the way”.
You looked up at him “what?”
He snorted wrinkling his nose in disgust, “that’s right…my fucking human wife was dragged from our fucking home and murdered in the fucking street”.
His face twisted in pain as he moved farther away from you “just for loving the fucking monster in the shadows”.
He glared at you “now sweetheart tell me…who’s the real fucking monster here?”
You stammered “that…that had to of happened years ago, before I was even born. Half the people that were around back then are dead….I’m not here for them”.
He stared down at you “then who the fuck are you pleading for?” he growled.
“they call themselves The Whisperers, they look like the dead and use them as protection”. You took a deep breath trying to find your courage “they’ve taken all the children”.
He nodded “perhaps I should help them kill the little fuckers, cut you parasites off at the fucking knees” he chuckled as your face grew hard.
The spark of fire in your eyes made him smile, moving in to once again invade your personal space.
He was trying to scare you.
Wiping the tears from your face you glared up at him “there innocent! The people who killed your wife were monsters yes, but you have a chance to save the lives of these kids”.
You rubbed your shoulder nervously before meeting his curious gaze “imagine the stories they’ll tell…you don’t have to be cruel”.
Negan hummed low in his throat “gotta admit you got some beach ball size lady nuts coming up here by yourself”.
He chuckled with a whisper “ok…but I want something in return” you shrunk away from him “wh…what do you want?”
He leaned forward letting his nose trace the shell of your ear, before inhaling against your neck.
You gasped when he exhaled with a groan “It’s been awhile since I’ve smelt something quite as delicious as you”.
Panicking you quickly pushed away from him “pl…please don’t hurt me” he chuckled darkly before speaking softly.
“I like your fear, it’s mine now!”
Fresh tears fell silently down your cheeks as you nodded.
You didn’t have a choice.
He smiled “you are mine!”
You looked up at him helplessly as he relished in your terror, licking his lips.
You didn’t know what he had planned for you.
But at least the children would be saved.
He purred deep in his chest before leaning back obnoxiously as he chuckled, “alright darlin” he boasted before leaning forward pressing his lips to your hair with a soft purr.
“follow me”.
You shivered shifting away as he gently pressed his hand to your back urging you forward.
****
The halls of his sanctuary were cold and damp like a prison cell which was oddly poetic. You cried silently as he moved in beside you gripping your arm as he opened up a bright red door.
You blinked in surprise at the cozy feeling the room seemed to give off, everything was neat and tidy.
Books lined a small shelf on the wall beside a small bed with a fluffy pillow. A large leather chair pushed in the corner with a three drawer dresser placed next to the door.
Negan made a small noise before he shoved you forward.
“Well princess I gotta fuckin eat soooo…”
He waggled his eyebrows at you “unless you wanna show me exactly how much you fucking appreciate my help, I’d suggest you not fucking leave this room till I come get ya”.
You swallowed nervously before giving him a quick nod, he smiled running his tongue over his fangs.
“not even a fucking taste?”
You rubbed your arms shying away from him toward the wall “n…no”
He chuckled “suite yourself…” he groaned leaning back against the doorway “I hear it can be quite fucking pleasurable for both parties if fucking done right”.
You couldn’t stop the slowly creeping blush making its way up your neck.
He ran his hand down his chest before lifting up his shirt fanning his newly exposed skin. Your mouth parted slightly at the teasing trail of hair leading from his pants.
What the hell were you doing?
“Fucking hot in here ain’t it?”
You jerked your eyes back to his shaking your head quickly.
He snickered pushing off the wood “must be why your face is so fuckin red right?” your face felt like it was blazing, you quickly dropped your gaze to the floor.
Running his hand down his face he chuckled sliding from the door as he pulled it shut, finally leaving you to your thoughts.
Sitting on the bed you sighed rubbing your hands down your face, you could feel the beginnings of a headache brewing behind your eyes.
What the hell did Negan want?
If he just wanted you to feed on he would of done it already.
So what was his agenda?
The sound of a door slamming nearby had you getting to your feet hovering by the door. Your hand reached out to grasp the handle, just a quick peek.
Cracking the door open you poked your head out peering down the dark hallway.
Taking a deep breath you went to move out in the hall just as Negan’s large frame crowded you back inside making you squeak in surprise, falling to your backside.
He sighed folding his arms as he leaned against the door “wow, you don’t fucking listen very well do you?”
His question didn’t register as your eyes fell to the drop of blood running down the corner his mouth.
He noticed you’re distracted gaze, lifting up his thumb to dab his lip looking down at it in amusement.
“sorry darlin, got in a bit of a fucking hurry” he purred running his tongue out to lick his lip before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
You were breathing heavily as you watched him lick up the blood on his hand with a groan, his golden eyes never leaving yours.
Stepping forward he offered you his hand “I ain’t gonna hurt ya doll” noticing you were shaking he smiled softly pursing his lips “hmmm… let’s be friends” he rasped.
You eyed his hand suspiciously before gently grasping his fingers, pulling you to your feet as he continued to smile.
“get some sleep darlin”
You looked down noticing your hand was still grasping his fingers, an odd heat filled your chest.
What was he planning?
And why was he treated you like a guest and not a prisoner?
Negan pulled his fingers away slowly as he backed up to the door “you hungry? or…” you shook your head “no I’m just…just gonna try to sleep”. He nodded “good” with that he pulled the door shut, the sound of him locking the door made you flinch.
So much for being a guest
You sighed laying down on your bed pulling your knees up to your chest, closing your eyes.
What the hell had you gotten into you?
#jdm#negan smut#twd negan#negan#twd#the walking dead#jdm fanfiction#negan fanfiction#jeffrey dean morgan smut#jeffrey dean morgan
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If you watch Boruto: Next Generations and entirely dismiss the idea that it derives from the previous generation of Naruto and Naruto Shippuden, it is arguably a decent up and coming anime. I know you do not fancy the idea of watching the anime, I advise you to give the recent episodes a slim chance. It is picking up in pace, things are slowly falling into place with character introductions. An unpopular opinion in conclusion: Boruto is truthfully a decent developing anime.
what a genius observation only you left out the fact that boruto next genfuckeration DOES derive from naruto / shippuden and it IS a shit show.
i don’t actively watch the anime being as i could do literally anything else like wipe my ass with a cactus than to engage in a serious of rehashed overused bullshit–the main character already has a knock off love interests between their two homosexual fathers, the series is literally slapping its own works in the absolute face. “hey you know what sounds like a good idea?” “huh? ripping off the original series by incorporating rehashed bullshit but between two heterosexual characters instead and making it seem not only believable but logical?” “yeah exactly” like miss me with that.
a huge reason i don’t watch boruto though isn’t for the fact it’s “not a good show” like most of my deductive reasoning skills can absolutely negate that as my being my final/only answer. boruto as an anime/manga is rehashed, and to elaborate on that, nothing new is happening, nothing new that is interesting is happening rather. the show itself might be good but we’ve seen it before. one piece has over 1000 episodes/chapters and literally nothing has been repeated. boruto should idk take fucking notes?
i can tell you how to fix boruto with some little points;
1.) start the generations like decades and decades after naruto’s generation.- that would fix the issue of “omg sasuke and naruto are so outta character they married these puny pathetic house bitch women and produced these copy pasted lilo and stitch animated children my god what the-” and instead turn it to “wait, this is the son of boruto whose the son of naruto” or even like twenty more names in there but basically it takes away the fact that we have anything to do with naruto anymore. why is this a good thing? because it wouldn’t create the issues we see now with naruto being out of character or sasuke..still uneasy about literally everything even his supposed marriage. it would negate all of that. how? because fifty, sixty, hundreds of years in the future with these new kids/generations, we don’t have nostalgia for the old team, we wouldn’t feel that close to them no but the series could steam of something else and get better because it’s not constantly compared to the old generation. - that would also make the increase in the industry and technology seem far more interesting and make far more sense than a “oh twelve years later in this era of literally a desert with some buildings we now have a train that runs to particular nofuckingwhere and all these gadgets and gizmos yet we still manage to not have fucking ARTILLERY”
2.) make the series about ANYONE ELSE- i’m not interested for the fact it’s about this spoiled bitch brat from the leaf village. like mitsuki is a knock off toneri whose a knock off orichimaru and his background is more interesting to me. as a character boruto is in the light of his father, he’s never not gonna be compared to him. boruto could literally whip his dick out in front of the entire class and someone’s gonna say “naruto would do that if sasuke were here” or something close to that, whatever, but you get my point. boruto is basically copy pasted naruto with leaf clover hair and unexplainable whiskers and crocs for shoes.
- if i’m being entirely honest here with the kids and the way it’s going literally everyone can do anything at this point and it’s not interesting. there isn’t any build ups, we aren’t that surprised that these baby boom kids can defeat a kager level jounin in a mere ten panels. i bet they are gonna incorporate some clan that can shoot straight up laser beams from their literal eye sockets and they are gonna rival the uchiha’s and hyuga’s for their impressive vision prowess and the fandoms gonna be like “since when the fuck did this happen, how is it possible and where did they come from” and kishimoto/ikemoto could literally verbatim say “i pulled it straight from the crevice of my literal ass cheeks” and the fandom will go wild with “such genius! much development!”
3.) re do the pairings- need i elaborate? the story would be better/far more interesting if the pairings were you know uh..nuked.
4.) cancel the whole damn series - i’m praying this will happen, let my boys naruto and sasuke rest in peace on that rock. go out arms blazing and missing, we say good the fuck night once and for all.
i literally care less about how much it’s developing, improving, all that nonsense. good for boruto, hope he finds an actual original purpose rather than being a copy pasted naruto with sasuke fucking mindset of being a lone ninja or whatever even. also give sarada a real goal, one that isn’t like the goal of literally any makeshift protagonist. “oh you wanna be a hokage also..how about like..maybe a star medical ninja..or perhaps someone who opens a hospital..somewhere or literally anything else.” i mean it’s a joke. naruto became hokage as a what–a fucking genin? in real people terms the fucker didn’t even graduate middle school if we’re honest here. and now sarada an equivalent middle schooler wants the exact same dream? like at this point the writers are just like “we’re out of ideas but eh–we aren’t gonna pull a bleach on you guys” yeah well you guys might as well pull a bleach on us at this point because fuck this.i don’t knock people who like/support boruto. i mean the same people probably support/ed fairy tail and that..went down faster than titanic. so enjoy the series for everything it’s rehashing. i seriously commend you guys if you’re able to have the same passion for it a year from now.i’m gonna continue to be a wanker for MHA though.
#anti boruto#anti naruto ending#anti naruto next generation#anti boruto next generations#anti sasusaku#anti naruhina#anti naruto#anti gaiden
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“Game of Thrones” Season VII: Episode 4 - Blazing Saddles
WARNING: SPOILERS for the latest episode below, so if you haven’t seen it and don’t know yet who dies, who fucks who, and how many times J-Snow reminds us he’s seen the Night King, turn back now.
THE ROAD FROM HIGHGARDEN
When one quip-meister dies, another returns; Bronn is back, even though his dialogue is now just mainly variations on the words “fuck” and “cunt.” Regardless, he’s here and he is NOT happy with the lil’ ol’ bag o’ gold Jaime gave him from the Highgarden loot.
Anyway, basically what’s happening is the Lannisters are taking all the food in the Reach (I know, I know, it seems like a process but Sam’s Dad and his son Dickbag or whatever assure us that they “have teams of men working on this”). And they’re all gonna Oregon Trail it back to King’s Landing and try not to get dysentery or cholera.
KING’S LANDING
Mycroft is back. And he is mincing.
Basically, he’s like, “Blah Blah Blah Braavos blah blah blah bitch betta have my money.” And Cersei’s just like -
WINTERFELL
If there was any doubt we need to talk about Bran after last week, it is now gone. Because he turned FULLY into that kid in high school who watched Fight Club, listened to Radiohead, and unlocked all the secrets of the universe. In short, as the “Previously on” segment reminds us, he’s gone from this -
to this -
At this moment, Littlefinger somehow cornered him alone in a room and is giving him the dagger way back from Season 1 like -
But Bran’s just like -
Until Littlefinger is like, “It must be so hard, beebee, to come back from abroad to all this chaos.” And Bran looks him straight in the face and says -
And Littlefinger is all -
Anyway, Meera shows up. And apparently she’s leaving. So she’s all crying and bummed out like, “Oh my God, Bran, I’m gonna miss you so much.” And he’s literally just like -
So she gets pissed. Rightfully fucking so. But she’s like crying and yelling at him like -
But Bran’s just like -
CUT TO OUTSIDE WINTERFELL where our favorite little sociopath Arya is HERE.
But we can’t get too excited because these two fucking dumbasses won’t let her into the castle. She’s like, “Listen fuckers, I’m Arya” and they’re just like, “All right, sit here and wait” and then they start arguing like -
But they don’t know she’s a ninja so they’re shocked when they turn around and she’s disappeared into the crypts, where Sansa finds her and it’s just like -
And when they finally hug, there’s no like crazy orchestra swell or anything, it’s just this like lovely perfect moment of reunion and we’re all just like -
Except like, wouldn’t it be nice if they could just like sit down and talk about like, “Hey, what’s up? You look good, it’s been so long.” “I heard you married Tyrion.” “I heard you saw our brother’s head decapitated and replaced by a wolf.” But instead Arya like whips out her “I have a kill list card” right away and Sansa’s like -
and Arya’s like -
She does brighten up when she finds out Bran is home too, but Sansa’s just like -
But like, whatever, Arya still hugs it out with him and she’s like all emotional and crying while he’s staring at Sansa like -
Bran’s a little less creepy about his Raven Symone abilities with Arya, because he’s like, “You should have this dagger Littlefinger randomly gave me.” And Arya’s like, “Thanks, because I actually totally do have a kill-list.” And Sansa’s just like -
DRAGONSTONE
D-Baby and Michelle are talking about Barack like -
When J-Snow pops up and is like, “I wanna show you something.”
Turns out it’s just all the dragonglass. Which comes with a new musical theme which is two notes away from Jurassic Park.
Anyway, then he wants to show her something else -
But once again, it’s not his dick. It’s a bunch of cave paintings about how the Children of the Forest and the First Men bonded together to fight the White Walkers that J-Snow may or may not have made himself like ten minutes ago.
Well, at this point D-Baby is a swamp. And she and J-Snow keep getting closer and closer until finally you think she’s gonna finally just be like -
But instead she’s like, “Bend the knee.” Again. Except I think we all know before the end of this season she’s gonna be the one bending the knee, KNOWHAMSAYIN??
But I digress. P-Dinky is back, and he’s brought bad news. So instantly D-Baby is like -
To be continued...
WINTERFELL
... Because Brienne is still training Pod three seasons later and he still fucking blows. Like truly no progress... when Arya shows up and is like -
And Brienne’s just like -
And of course Sansa’s walking by with Littlefinger like, “Peas and carrots, peas and carrots, gotta have more grain.” So she sees Arya turning it on like -
Brienne’s like -
Sansa’s like -
And Littlefinger’s just like -
DRAGONSTONE
Davos is picking up Stannis’ grammar Nazi schtick.
And also being a total flirtstress with Michelle.
SHE IS TAKEN!!!
When suddenly, Theon pops up on shore.
Theon tries to play it off like, “Oh bro it’s so good to see you.” And J-Snow can’t kill him because he saved Sansa. So now Theon is just trying to get ships to save his sister, I guess. Except D-Baby is gone.
THE ROAD FROM HIGHGARDEN
The Oregon Trail continues, and we learn once again that Dickbag’s name is Dickbag. Presumably so Bronn can say what we’re all thinking.
But the dick jokes get cut short when Bronn hears something in the distance.
Indeed, there’s belting from afar that sounds like a mixture of Xena Warrior Princess and a Pink Floyd album. It’s the fucking Dothraki. And they’re all like -
And Jaime’s just like -
And the Lannisters are like trying to be chill and Jaime’s all -
But then. A massive roar from above. And from down on high - in one of the most chill-inducing moments in Thrones history - comes D-Baby looking like a fucking queen. And before Jaime can even be like -
D-Baby’s like, “Dracarys.”
Like boom goes the whole fucking Oregon Trail. And everyone’s on fire like -
But there’s NO TIME TO CHILL because the Dothraki come in like -
And then, it’s just crazy, just like blood, horses, belting, and D-Baby’s just FUCKING up the Oregon Trail like -
But Jaime is still going, like, “We just need arrows.” And so they try that with the dragon but of course he’s just like -
So, okay, Jaime sends Bronn to go get the big crossbow Dr. Frankenstein made, but then Jaime totally almost gets killed by this Dothraki dude and we’re all like -
But it’s okay, because Dickbag saves him! And Jaime’s like, “Thanks, Dickbag.”
But things don’t look so hot for Bronn who’s charging at this other Dothraki dude like -
but the Dothraki dude totally fucks his horse up like -
And then we really think it’s all over, because Bronn’s gold goes everywhere and it really seems like maybe he’ll try and get it and die doing so, but then he’s like, “Jaime -
And he bolts away from the gold, running through everyone like -
And Dothraki Dude finally corners him in what seems like a tent but GUESS WHAT? IT’S NOT A TENT it’s totally where the big crossbow thing is. And Dothraki Dude is like -
But Bronn is all -
And he’s all crossbow out, wind whipping through his hair, like trying to find the fucking dragon who has completely demolished the entirety of the Oregon Trail, as we see from P-Dinky’s point of view, because apparently he’s there watching. And the Dothraki Dude with him is like -
But I digress. Bronn is trying to hit the dragon but he misses and D-Baby’s just like -
So Bronn tries again. And let me tell you, for all the shit I gave this stupid fucking crossbow thing in this moment, I was like, “Well actually who knows where he’s gonna hit it? This might actually kill this thing!”
And lo and behold, it hits him, and Drogon’s like -
And Bronn’s smiling. And D-Baby’s devastated. And we’re all just like, “I DON’T KNOW WHO TO ROOT FOR!” But lo. Drogon is not dead. And to prove it, he fucks up Dr. Frankenstein’s crossbow, just like -
And then D-Baby parks herself in the middle of the battlefield to perform impromptu spear removal on her baby. Jaime sees this and he’s like -
And P-Dinky is literally like -
And we’re all just like -
And he’s about to spear D-Baby. But without her even saying “Dracarys,” Drogon turns around like -
When somebody (Bronn?) dives out of nowhere and pushes Jaime out of the way, into water, where he’s just like -
BOOB COUNT: None
BODY COUNT: Lots
EPISODE GRADE: A
SER POUNCE’S STRAY THOUGHTS
The Gold Company is brought up in the scene between the Iron Bank dude and Cersei. I know that these guys are in the fifth book and that they have something to do with the other Targaryen boy, but somebody may have to remind me more. My initial thought here though was perhaps Daario and the Second Sons will become hired by Cersei? I thought Daario was done, but maybe not?
The History of the Dagger: Somebody was sent to kill Bran in Season 1 with said dagger, but the attempt was botched and Catelyn took the knife to King’s Landing to investigate. Littlefinger revealed that it once belonged to him, but then went to Tyrion when he won it in a bet (this has been confirmed as a lie). From then, it fell into Ned’s hands and the last we saw it was with him (presumably Littlefinger had taken it after betraying him). Although Littlefinger is right that this knife ignited the War of the Five Kings, we still don’t know who sent the assassin in the first place. In the books, around Joffrey’s wedding both Jaime and Tyrion heavily suspect Joffrey hired him because he heard that Bran knew the truth about his parentage, but this is never confirmed either way and has always seemed a bit shaky.
Member Maester Luwin? Literally the best.
Arya asks, “Which Lady Stark?” Bitch, who else?
The moment with Brienne “keeping her vow” was actually pretty cool. She really barely did anything.
I don’t know if you know, but Jon saw the Night King.
Where on earth is Theon’s story going?
A very similar structure to my favorite episode, “Hardhome,” in that nobody saw that battle coming. But this really seemed to me the first battle since “Blackwater” where we were invested in both sides. There was a severe anxiety to not wanting any of the major characters to die. While it lacked the cinematic might of “Battle of the Bastards,” it was far more engaging on a character level.
Hiroshima-esque imagery cannot be good for where D-Baby is headed. I wouldn’t be surprised to see Varys and P-Dinky jump ship soon.
NEXT WEEK: Ravens, more dragons, and Varys is pissed.
Thank you for your time.
#game of thrones#got#hbo#songoficeandfire#gameofthrones#gotseason7#season7#thrones#georgerrmartin#jaime#drogon#daenerys#fieldoffire
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Just my thoughts on death note NETFLIX movie
So i watched the death note movie last night and GOOD LORD it was bad I mean if i had never seen the original I might have actually liked it but since I have there was so many plot holes and scences were missing most not even all of charters were off and a bunch of other stuff
(I’M CURRENTLY REWATCHING THE ORIGINAL SERIES )
Side note sorry for the spelling errors and missing words I wrote all of these at 12-3 in the morning
Holy shit this is so American right off the bat
3 cop cars lights blazing with in the first minute
Pft light Turner ( is he related to timmy Turner from fairy odd parents
Kay so misa is a cheerleader now ?kool I guess
Light Turner:that smart guy who dose other people’s math home work
Creeper stop looking at the cheerleaders creep
So misa is the head bitch of the cheer team?
In case if you forgot where the movie took place, there is a highschool/collage football team practicing with the cheerleaders neer by
Oh misa smokes now also during practice?also also where the hell did the cigeret come from and how is fit already lit?
Boy notices girl (I bet they are going to do it later on in the movie ()
“Fuck I think she likes me even though we probley never met before ” look
Edgy title sequences with flashing different colours
+ Roll credits
None of the T’s are side ways nor upside down
Oh shit rave time
Oh shit sudden winds
Did she inhale he cigeret ?
Oh geez the note book has fallen from the sky
Oh shit right its right beside me
Let’s grab it
Roll credits
Now it’s raining suddenly everyone run away
Bullies sucks
Classic I’m gonna beat up up and steal your money
Girl tries to be tough only to be pushed by the bully and guy yells out after catching her “DON’T TOUCH HER”
OH SHIT SMART GUY HAD BEEN HANDING OUT ANSWERS TO PEOPLE
smart guy tries to make the principal see the bigger picture of things for students
Why did light lose his mom at a young age
In the anime he had his mother why the odd detail of a lost one to justify the guy HANDING out answers to people and to be edgy ????
Kool girl can’t talk to the edgy guy of the school
Random ass jumpscare
Falling asleep in detention cliques
Why did you have to push all the books off the desk you could have placed them on the desk either side of you? Also why all the books anyways ?
At least they kept the rules of the book right
Why dose the writing end here ?
Holy fuck flashing lights,damn it the power when out why?
WHAT THE FUCK MARBLES
Why are there millions of marble in here in a glass jar some where back there
“Anyone there” clique
What’s with the millions of jars in the front or back of the class??
WHAT or who knocked this over?
AH BIG SPIKY THING
HOLY FUCK IT LOOKED AT ME
*nocks a shelf down by falling into it from fear*
Random winds indoors
Locked door when shits going down clique
Light Turner is a little bitch
Screams for a whole minute quite to look at shit flying around the class room screams like a little bitch again
Oh shit everything stoped and this room is a mess I’m going to be untroubled for this
My Apple has been ate *dun dun dun*
Ah A DISIMBODY VOICE
Main character thinks they are sleeping in a odd senerior clique
“Eight foot demon lookin mother fucker” -light Turner
Was just freaking out a second ago but listens to what the “Eight foot demon lookin mother ” has to say and dose the thing he says to do
Oh shit that chick is getting bullied what do I do?
“Let’s kill them by writing their name in this ‘death note ”
God damn I know you want this person to die but by decapations that’s a little fucked up mate
I was right God damn, that’s disturbing! A fucking lader to the face , it didn’t even take the head completely off just where the mouth separates
Also the girl and that guy now needs some deep mentle health help now that shits gonna stay with them forever now
OH DAMN SON THAT’S NOT RIGHT
Oh shit I was talking to the demon lookin mother fucker and now he gone but the powers back on and the class room is a mess
-12 minute mark
Oh look the book I just used to kill that dude like just pick this back up and act like nothing happened
Awkward dinner with my father (OH shit wait where’s lights little sis?) With a earth quake happening at the same time
Mubble mubble? Mumble . Mumble mumble mumble? Mumble mumble? JUST SPEAK CLEARLY PLEASE
SO the mom got ran over and died and apparently talking about this makes light angry as hell?
Time to use the death note to write that guys name down or wait what don’t trust ryuk?
AH DEMON IN MY CLOSET
Let’s toss a Apple in here
“2 days? Wow your fingers are huge ”
Causal steals evidence from the folder of your dead mom’s case
Out of pure spite I’m gonna kill the one who killed my mother
That felt good
WHAT THE FUCK Hollywood I get it more blood the better but god damn vomitting blood after falling neck first onto a knife that’s just gross and yes shocking but ewwwwww
Fuck ryuk looks fucking creepy as fuck,
Also why is ryuk so sinnicual in this in the anime he’s just like to as you want I’ll be right here eating all of the apples
Let’s read this thing out in public no one will notice except my crush
Cheer leader girl is kinda messed up
Oh wow your name is Mia,U COULD HAVE KEPT THE NAME MISA
-22 minute mark
“ I can’t tell you what this is but if you really want to know lemme tell you all about it”
Girl thinks u are batshit crazy son
Out of everything they kept the hostage scene ???
Oh damn you killed a man I believe everything you say and do now
Back to the whole sub plot of mommy died now I’m emotionally dead inside and now I have this book I can feel something now
“ Let us make a new world light”
Takes the lady up to his room and I told you they were gonna fuck
“Lets kill every one bad to fine the good”
“ be named kira” “why kira ? What dose it mean ?” “I means light in Celtic or Russian like that ”
^— it means killer in the translation to English or to (*キラキラ*) shine/glitter in japanese you twat also Russian yes but it means like the sun And no way is it even close to having a Celtic background it’s Greek meaning lady
Okay they kept the prison scene but to a minimum
Why the fuck is L at the scene of the crime??? Why didn’t they cast him like the fans wanted, who cares about a diverse cast , we want the quirks of the actual charter to be shown
If they cut out the whole tennis since I’m gonna be sad and if they do the whole tough black guy thing I’m gonna be really upset with the character
What’s with the random ass
song ???
No really wtf
A SINGLE SONG PUTS THE GREATEST DETIVE TO LIVE ASLEEP DON’T LET ANYONE KNOW ABOUT IT
WHERE’S MY OLD MAN WATARI WHAMMY ?
dose the dad even have a name or naw
Wahhh that was watari singing that random add song??? Why is he japanese he was a English gentalman(kinda)in the anime ????
WHAT NO WHY?
L IS A CLEAN FREAK NO CANDY IS SPLIT NO WHERE WHY YOU NO SIT CORRECT KNEES TO YOUR CHIN FEET ON THE FLOOR GOD DAME IT
but hey you have the room of which they meet in so I guess that’s cool or are you gonna gloss over that and not show the task force guys ?
Apparently talking about killing people gives Mia a boner good to know
NO TASK FORCE ?
THE FUCK
JAMES TURNER WHY?????
OMG JUST EAT THE ICE CREAM YOU DICK
L WHAT NO THIS ISN’T HOW THAT HAPPENED THE PUT A FAKE
WHAT ABOUT THE SHINIGAMI EYES MOTHER DUCKED? WHERE S REM? MISA SHINIGMA WHAT ABOUT HER HUH? YOU MISSES A CRUSAL PLOT POINT DUMBASSES
ALSO IT WAS OVER A LEADERS CONFRENACE OF HEAD POLICE FORCE PEOPLE NOT A TYPICAL ONE COME ALL REPORTER MEET AND GREET
NO VOICE MODOFACATIONS EAITHER??? REALLY?
Hahaha they kept the stalking of light
WHAT THE FUCK happened
Let’s do all live interviews with a mass killer on the lose
Let’s drop all of the f bombs man screw ratings
WHO MADE RYUK THE GOD OF ALL SHINIGMAS? DID THEY NOT LOOK AT DEATH NOTE THIRTEEN? ALSO WHO MADE THIS BOOK?
LET’S JUST BE DICKS IN PUBLIC TO EACH OTHER
UM WHAT IS HAPPING
NO NO NO NO NO NO
THE DEATH NOTE DOSENT WORK LIKE THAT YO,U CAN’T KILL OFF THE ONE CHARATER THAT LEADS TO SOMETHING IMPORTANT ASLO MIA YOU MORE USELESS THAN THE CHARTER MISA AT LEAST SHE HAD THE SHINIGAMI EYES AND HAD A NPTE BOOK OF HER OWN
AND ACTUALLY DID THINGS
WHAT THERE IS NO RULE 89 Its FAKE you idiot
There’s only 6ish rules and they have the simplest of loop holds but misa can see them too she knows more than you do about the death note light Turner
Uh no what the hell is st.martains orphanage in Montauk IT WAS WHAMMYS ORPHANAGE IN LONDON ENGLAND WHERE MELLO,MATT AND N AND I GUESS BB LIVED AND WORKED ON BECOMING THE NEXT L BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT
??? Rochester wards what the hell is that??? I mean yeah sure yeah you got that part right about becoming great detectives but it was only yo become a sucesor to L Because he had a few months to live or whatever the time ACTUALly was
????? Now this is bull shit locking children away to make them stay sane? To be come a great deftective and the rest of which you are saying is shit , La in his thirty or so cause MATT and mello and near are all in their 20s or a wee bit older
Fuck this movie man
L looks so week in this like yeah watari is basically L’S father and what not but the guy I know and looked up to is being please as a guy who can’t do anything for him self watari this watari that I get it but there are things of which I don’t get about this portrale why dose he sleep for — amount of hours when we takes cat naps through out the day OKAY THIS TAKES THE FUCKING CAKE L IS RESTRICTED BY A POLICE OFFICER THIS MAN KNOWS HOW TO EVERY FIGHTING TECHNIQUE LNOWN TO MAN BUT GOD FORBID A OFFICER TAKES HIM DOWN
AND HEY LET’S TAKE THE MOST MENTAL STABLE MAN EVER AND TURN HIM INTO A NEVIOUSE MESS
SO WAIT NO TRAPS IN THE ROOM NO PENCILE IN THE DOOR NO GOOD FUCKING PARTS TO THE ORIGINAL YOU PEICE OF GARBAGE CREATER
THE ORIGINAL HAD A BETTER SOUND TRACK AND NOT SOME CHEEP OVER USED SCARY MOVIE BMG
THAT’S HOW WATARI DIES IN THIS SHITTY VERSION A SAD PATHTIC DEATH
WHAT THE FUCK there are no rules you twat
This movie honestly broke my heart turned L into a shallow mess of a characterwhich made him look so week skipped a bunch a details that made the anime what it was it slipped over MAT,mello and near and the final battle at the end misa sucked a lot the final scene really is the point where ryuk writes lights name in the book but booboo Mia had to write it and blah blah blah I AM THE FINAL BATTLE AND THERE IS 21:48 LEFT TO THIS SERISE WHAT THE FUCK IF GONNA HAPPEN???
WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENES
NO BOTH OF THEM DIES ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME
THAT’S HOW THIS SHIT ENDS OH WAIT NO SINCE LIGTS PAPER GOT BURNT IN A FIRE MEANS THE BITCH OH LIGHT ISN’T KIRA BECAUSE HE SAW HIS NAME A PAPER AND THESE DOSNENT HAPEN BECAUSE OF THIS AND THAT YOU MESSED UP BIG TIME MOVIE ALSO FUCK THE THE RULE OF WHO EVER TOUCHES THE NOTE BOOK SEES SHINIGAMI
FUCK THIS MOVIE TO THE FULLEST EXTENT THIS DID NO JUSTICE YOU THE ORIGINAL THIS WAS TERRIBLE AND I VERY MUCHED HATES HOW THE ENDING TURNES OUT FUCK YOU ADAM WINGARD AND ALL THOSE WHO HELPEd make this
Side note
WHO the hell comes into someone’s house and is all like HI yeah I know I don’t live here but gtfo the adults need to speak
#death note#netflix#i wasted so much time#please don't let this go mainstream please#for the love of god
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. Obsessive Impulsive . 16
Full Summary: “‘I’ve been trying to find you alone for weeks, but you’ve been avoiding me.’ He clicked his tongue, as if scolding her. 'I tried approaching, but you always had someone with you to give me nasty words and looks. They turned you against me, Miss Levy.’"
Pairings: Gajeel x Levy
Warnings: I strode for a darker fic again. This is not for sensitive readers. Violence, stalking, etc.
Author’s Note: This is a very, very twisted gift for Bubbles, who has not been allowed to so much as read a single chapter. This will update every other day.
Levy flinched as she moved too quickly, her shoulder throbbing with agony. It was on fire, and when she moved the bandage aside, she saw that it looked anything but ready to heal. She thought about using it to get Elroy to maybe let her go, but didn't dare try just yet. If he lost his temper…
Well. She was kind of trapped in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with no way of escaping and no one to hear her screams.
She took a deep breath and rolled onto her side. Elroy had locked her into the room again for whatever reason, and her shoulder ached too much to attempt an escape for the time being. There was no way out here in this room. She'd hunted up and down the walls for a good portion of the night before.
Levy carefully sat up, propping herself up with a grimace. She listened.
Silence.
Elroy wasn't there.
She climbed out of the bed and immediately made her way over to the door. She touched it with care, getting a feel for any magic. She couldn't use her own with the cuff on her wrist, but it didn't mean she couldn't sense it. She didn't feel anything and tried the knob.
Locked.
So, she retreated back into the room, seeking out any pens or pencils. Written magic could be used by anyone, if used properly. And she just so happened to have memorized one for unlocking - specifically for situations like this.
She was utterly shocked when she found a quill and some ink displayed on a shelf. In tribute to her alongside empty pieces of parchment, Levy guessed. Courtesy of Elroy; a form of entertainment. Scowling, Levy pulled it down. She dipped the quill into the small container and then took a deep breath and took the quill to the door.
Levy scrawled the spell out without faltering, eyes blazing. The lock clicked open as she pulled her quill away. Her hazel eyes narrowed as she peeked her head out of the room. She nodded to herself and padded softly into the other room. She looked around, listening. No sign of Elroy.
Levy scampered further into the room and went to work on investigating, seeking a way out of the cabin. She bit her lip when she found nothing of use and wondered if, with the way he'd miraculously used written magic, he had used some kind of disguising magic to trap her there.
Frustrated, Levy decided to retreat for the time being.
Elroy would be back soon, and she had nothing.
Nothing but a cuff that sealed her magic away.
Gajeel stared openly at the cabin as the sun set. He'd seen no change throughout the day, Lily returning late into the evening with instructions from Makarov to do as he saw fit. The pair had long since fallen silent, simply watching.
He'd seen movement in the windows, and he'd made a low sound deep in his throat at the flash of familiar blue. Levy was certainly in there. She couldn't get out, he was willing to bet, but at least she was alive.
"When do we strike?" Lily asked, sharpening his small sword.
Gajeel mulled over the thought and then decided, "Not tomorrow. We need to make sure we've got some kinda schedule set out. Elroy's too fuckin' perfect. Ain't no way in hell he doesn't have a schedule. We'll watch tomorrow and maybe the next day. Then we'll figure out how to get in. Figure out how to tell Levy we're here. Might leave that up to you. One look and she'll know. Won't even have to say a word."
"That would be nice," Lily replied with a tinge of amusement in his voice, "had I not seen detection spells written into the walls and carved into the ground surrounding the hut."
Gajeel stared at him with blank crimson eyes and then snarled, "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I hate this man," Lily mused, "but we must give him credit for preparation. He sure knows how to keep a dragon slayer and Exceed out."
"I hate this man," Gajeel grunted, "and I'm gonna laugh as I rip his fucking throat out. Anyone else in the guild know somethin' about written spells?"
Lily thought over it. "Lucy perhaps. Natsu, maybe, but from Lucy, so he'd be pointless in asking. A few of the S-Class mages might know some information, particularly Freed, but he's away with the Thunder Legion and Laxus...Droy and Jet might have picked something up from Levy."
Lucy would be clever, he supposed. "Grab Bunny Girl. Tell Wendy to head out to the crazy old hag and see what she might know about gettin' past 'em."
"Are you just going to watch?"
"The hell am I gonna do with those spells written there?" Gajeel was exasperated. "I ain't stupid, Lil'."
"Well,I mean, look how long it took you to kiss Le - okay, okay, I'm leaving." Lily sprung into the air before Gajeel could grab him. He smirked at his glaring friend. "I'll be back in the morning. Watch your back."
And then he flew away and Gajeel bared his teeth, settling down to watch. His sharp crimson eyes saw blue in the window again and a furious and worried feeling flooded him as he watched from the trees.
Gajeel wondered if she knew he was there.
"...ugh," he finally muttered, sitting back. He'd turned into a goddamn sap over the shrimp, and quite frankly, it was pissing him off. Once upon a time, he would have charged straight in there without thinking - even if it killed her.
Even if it killed him.
But knowing that it'd hurt her in ways far more terrible than physical wounds or illness...he didn't dare let himself get killed. Hurt, sure. Maimed, hell yes if it meant getting her out. But not dead, never dead.
Movement outside of the cabin caught his attention. "Fucker," he sneered as he saw Elroy slip out of the trees and approach the cabin. Gajeel ducked down and leaned forward, paying close attention. He swore under his breath when he saw him disappear behind the cabin. Slinking low, Gajeel made his way around to the back and swore again when he realized he'd missed it. Grumbling, Gajeel settled down to wait.
"I hate this," he muttered.
And fell silent, eyes locked on the cabin.
Levy couldn't figure out why she couldn't sleep, but she could have sworn that she'd seen shadows darting this way and that in the woods. She felt as if someone was watching her.
Of course, that might have been Elroy, too. She wouldn't put it past him to watch her sleep.
She hated it. And him. She especially hated him.
Levy turned over onto her good side with care. Sweat dampened her hair and she pushed her bangs irritably out of her eyes. She was flushed, feverish. It had set in only hours before, and she knew without a doubt that if she didn't get proper medical help soon, it would end badly. She blinked blearily.
She wanted to go home, damn it!
Taking a deep breath, Levy forced herself to close her eyes and relax. Stressing herself out would get her nowhere. Elroy had apologetically told her he had something to do tomorrow. She'd search the space again then. See if she'd missed anything. Maybe go to work on scrawling out runes that might break her out.
Or send off a signal.
Breaking a window might help.
Levy blinked and climbed out of the bed, stumbling to the barred window of her room. She expertly checked the width of her hips against the width between bars, of her head, to see-
Levy grinned.
She could fit through the bars.
"I just," she mumbled under her breath, studying the spell that had been scratched into the glass, "have to figure out how to puzzle out a new spell and fix it..."
If she could redo the spell into one that would shatter it - maybe even the wall - she could leave.
Levy nodded to herself and returned to bed. Rather than wasting time seeking an escape, that's what she'd do. She'd break herself out through a simple window. She curled up on top of the covers and thought only of her friends, family, and Gajeel.
Particularly Gajeel.
When dawn rolled around, Levy was up and smiling prettily at Elroy, her impatience nearly brimming in her eyes. She wanted him gone. Desperately. Because the second he was gone, the second she could work.
She fought down the urge to retch as he lightly took a hand in his and kissed it with cold lips. Levy stiffened, but said nothing as he said gently, "I'm sorry, Miss Levy. I'll be back later, alright? You can come out of your room later."
"I understand," she pretended to sigh miserably. "Don't take too long."
He beamed, delighted. As if he thought she was finally coming to her senses. She wanted to outright laugh at him. How stupid was he?! He touched her cheek warmly and then gently nudged her into room. Levy dropped her smile the second the door was shut and scrubbed her cheek with a look of disgust. "Ugh," she muttered.
She headed for the window, studying the spell there. "Here we are," she murmured. "A spell...saying... " She scanned it, ignoring painful throbbing in her shoulder. "If I try to break it with something...then it'll blow up in my face. So I just need to figure out how to squeeze the idea of doing nothing instead. Maybe even a soundless rune. Thank you, Freed, for your glorious teachings."
Levy continued to mumble to herself as she went to work, humming quietly, grabbing a book and cursing herself for ruining its beauty as she began to scrawl words, symbols, and more on the paper.
"Gajeel!"
"Holy fuck, Bunny Girl!" Gajeel yelped as Lucy very nearly screamed, ducking to avoid the spear of iron that came flying at her. She glared viciously at him.
"You just nearly beheaded me!" she said in a shrill voice.
"You scared the hell out of me!"
"Well, I'm sorry!" Lucy threw her hands up and then pressed a hand over her pounding heart. Her dark eyes flickered with annoyance and then worry. "Any sign of Levy?"
He shook his head. "Seen her in the cabin," he muttered as Lily settled on the ground beside them, jerking his chin towards the building. "She's alive for now. What d'ya know about written spells, Bunny Girl?"
Lucy shifted uneasily. "Not a whole lot," she admitted. "Bits and pieces. I'm not good with re-making them into something else - not like Levy is. But I can read them fairly well."
Gajeel huffed, but said nothing as he looked back at the cabin. He paused when he saw Elroy, swiftly shoving Lucy to the ground despite her protest. Lily lashed his tail and all three watched through shrubbery as Elroy paused to look around and then slid away, heading further into the forest - towards Magnolia.
"What the hell is he doing there?" Lily demanded.
"Could ya follow him?" Gajeel said, looking at him.
"I can try. He's very perceptive and will likely notice." Lily's gaze was fierce. "But I'll do it if it means helping Levy."
"Be careful," Lucy pleaded, "and hurry back. I promised Natsu I'd be back before sunset tonight."
Lily nodded, reassuring her he would be, and then flew off. Grunting, Gajeel knelt in the dirt and thoughtfully scratched out a few symbols in Draconian. "How's Salamander?"
"Not good," Lucy admitted with a defeated sigh. "He's...paranoid. Really paranoid. Every sound makes him jump, and...and he's...so…" She struggled to explain. "Dark. He hasn't smiled since Strawberry Street blew up, and he wakes up panicked in the night. I haven't gotten much sleep sitting beside him, to be honest."
Gajeel paused to look at the woman he'd reluctantly begun to call friend over the last few months. She was tired, with shadowed eyes and a haunted look. And he realized that while Levy had been Elroy's goal, he'd affected them all. "He ain't gonna get better anytime soon, Bunny Girl."
"That's what Porlyusica and even Lisanna said. Mira said the last time he was close to this is when Lisanna...died?" She paused, questioning herself, and then shook her head. "I need to get closer to see those spells...what are you doing?"
He jerked his chin at the Draconian. "Recognize these?"
She shook her head. "Should I?"
"Draconian," he explained. "Some of 'em are used in even regular spells. S'hard to sort 'em out from other languages. Thought I might have seen some etched in the larger spells on the walls."
Lucy studied them, tucking a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes. "I see. I do need to get a closer look, Gajeel."
"Well that's gonna be a fuckin' delight," he rumbled, glaring over his shoulder at the cabin. "I don't know a lot about these things, but I recognize alarms. There are sure as hell alarms. Everywhere."
"The thing about written alarms like you're talking about," Lucy said with sparkling eyes, "is that they have to be specific, and I doubt he thought to write them out for me. He was probably thinking of you and maybe Gildarts or Gray or something. I'll try and get close. If I can, I'll let Levy know we're here."
"Not all of 'em are alarms," he warned.
She smiled, standing and brushing her knees off. "I know. I'm off. Watch my back?"
He rolled his crimson eyes to the sky. "You're psychotic. Ya succeed, I'll give ya some payment."
She faltered. "How much?"
"Ya won't have to pay rent for ten years."
She beamed. "I won't fail."
Lucy set off for the cabin.
#fairy tail#fanfiction#obsessive impulsive#riverofmemoriesft#gajevy#gajeel x levy#gajeel redfox#levy mcgarden#pantherlily#lucy heartfilia
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Memories
(( Hi there! It’s been forever since I posted, it’s three in the morning, and here’s some angsty Reaper shit because I love to Suffer))
((I may do a part two if y’all like this, so feel free to tell me if you think I should continue this mess or not))
How long had it been?
How long had it been since he had been comfortable? Felt like he was actually stable enough to pick something up? Gabriel didn’t know. Everything was a haze. Memories had a tendency to bleed together when your brain didn’t seem to stay in tact for more than a few minutes at a time.
The Reaper often had a hard time remembering who he had once been. Beyond snatches of blue eyes, fragments of yelling at someone, and an annoyance he could never be rid of, but never hated... It was emotions mostly, things tied to situations but never the context to match them with. He couldn’t put together anything coherent enough to call a backstory.
Once he had known what he was doing, at the beginning of everything he had been sharp, dangerous as any other vengeful wraith.
At least, that was what Talon told him.
He hadn’t always been such a fucking mess, he hadn’t always had to ask what his name had once been. But according to the scientists that seemed to constantly hover about him, he was fading. His mind was becoming more and more scrambled as time went on. He no longer felt anger, he no longer remembered why he had become part of Talon, only that it was important.
And he guessed that it was important, it kept him rooted in Talon anyways. He had long since stopped fighting, stopped ignoring orders or making snarky retorts to things he was told to do. Widowmaker, the woman who worked beside him most of the time had told him this, more than once. But once again, he couldn’t remember.
A faint sense of familiarity was usually all he had. Whether he was listening to Sombra and Widowmaker bicker about something, or the smell of sand and hot air... Sometimes things had him wondering where he’d experienced something similar. Sure he didn’t need to breathe, but sometimes he found himself inhaling just for the sake of some scent that caught his attention, air rattling around in his useless lungs before he would give up.
Often times he didn’t have any sort of time to connect the fragments, to let the coalesce into something he could recognize. They remained a frustrating jumble that he couldn’t understand, like the tangles of wires he often saw Sombra picking at or messing with.
It was the air again. The heat blazing against his jacket, the sand getting caught in everything, Gabriel could feel it getting caught everywhere. Something about it scratched at the back of his mind, it definitely wasn’t the first time he’d been stuck in the heat with something to do. The weird part was that there was no urgency in whatever he was ‘remembering’. It was just, calm. Which was an odd change from what he usually dealt with.
“Where the hell did you go anciano?” Sombra’s voice came over the coms, snapping Reaper out of his muddled thoughts as he let out a displeased growl.
“Get off my back, shut your mouth, and do something useful.” Reaper hissed out, he felt part of his face melt away into smoke as soon as he was finished. His comment earned a stifled laugh, it seemed almost patronizing. As it was, he tuned Sombra out, instead focusing on the mission at hand.
Overwatch had been poking around again, showing a bit more and more to the eye of the public. Something about the name elicited disgust and betrayal from Reaper. Why? He couldn’t be sure, but he was going to follow what his superiors told him and actually get some shit done.
“I’ve got a visual on Overwatch.” He had found a place lurking in the shadows. He melted into them once he had spoke. Letting his physical form go was getting distressingly easy. The wraith didn’t think about it though, instead focusing on the group that had come into view. They hadn’t caught sight of the Talon operatives yet, but Gabriel knew that he and the other two would be hard to shake.
His gaze found one person in particular, one that seemed to stand out from the others. Mostly because the guy actually seemed to blend into the scene, softer colors and the hat to match. The rest stood out horribly against the background of the heat and sand.
The Talon agent was about to make a move of some variety when he saw one of the Overwatch members move quickly. Within a second a bow had come up, an arrow had been loosed, and the team scattered. He heard a sound of discomfort over the coms before a thick french accent met his ears.
“We’ve been spotted.” Widow’s tone was laced with disgust, and Reaper let out an equally disgusted scoff as he materialized once more.
“Next time find a better place to lurk, if we loose them because of you-” Reaper was cut off by the click of someone cocking a gun right behind him. The wraith didn’t have much to fear, but the fact that someone had managed to get behind him with a weapon without him noticing in the slightest... It bothered him.
“Either drop your weapons or I shoot you.” The voice behind him was cold, gruff, and for some reason it had Reaper frowning, trying to retrieve a memory that hovered just out of his grasp.
“I said drop ‘em, last chance scumbag.” The man behind the Reaper growled out. The wraith let his shotguns clatter from his hands. It wasn’t like he was unarmed, but he was sure whoever had snuck up on him had no idea about that.
He turned slowly, leather creaking as he moved. Reaper needed to actually see who had taken him by surprise.
When he turned fully, he froze.
At first he didn’t know why, it was just the man he had taken note of earlier. But as a moment slipped by, A name flashed through his mind.
Jesse
He didn’t know what the significance was. His brows knitting together in a scowl as he struggled for the memory that still kept slipping away. Sure the guy was pointing a revolver directly at his face, but Reaper had priorities, and anything that could give him any clue as to who he once was... That was far more valuable to him than any mission. He needed to know he had a life before Talon. Otherwise he was starting to wonder more and more if they had created him. And as much as it made more sense to him over time, he didn’t want it to be true. Some desperate part of him clung to the hope that he may have once been human.
“C’mon boss, you can’t be that determined to work yourself to death.”
The laugh flitted through his thoughts like some sort of wild thing. For some reason the comment nobody had directed at him at that moment had him stifling an exasperated huff. Reaper recoiled a bit though, something told him that what was bubbling to the surface of his mind had everything to do with the man that stood directly in front of him.
“Who the hell are you?” It was a low hiss from behind his mask. A plume of black smoke went with it. His brain argued that he knew already, and he was just asking a stupid question. That was absurd, he didn’t know McCree at all.
Hold on, where had that come from?
Reaper was having some sort of mental fucking whiplash, his mind racing as red irises bore into the man he faced down. He hadn’t made any move for his shotguns, and the other man still hadn’t dropped his weapon, but they hadn’t killed each other yet, so there was that at least.
Someone was talking to him over his coms as he watched Jesse. He had decided that was probably the other man’s name. It was the name that kept ricocheting around in his mind after all, so something about that had to be important.
“I could ask you the same thing, who’s behind the mask? Who’s this big bad Reaper everyone’s been talkin’ ‘bout.” Jesse muttered, advancing a couple of steps on the leather clad figure as Reaper frowned.
“Head’s up, big bad commander Morrison is gonna have another hissyfit. I’d bet Peacekepper he’ll come lookin’ for you to remind you I’m a shitty teenager.”
A low laugh rumbled in his chest as he watched a lanky young man drop into one of the chairs in front of his desk, hat falling low on his brow as he slung long legs over the arm of the chair.
Reaper shook himself a bit. That was... an actual memory. It wasn’t just incoherent emotions tossed into the abstract hell that his mind had become over the years.
“Jesse?”
He hadn’t meant to speak at all. Hell, any other time and he would have already pulled a gun and blasted this guy’s skull open. But something stopped him. Something in his mind screamed not to hurt the other man, hell, all of his instincts told him to protect the fucker that had a gun pointed directly at his face.
The man faltered at the name though, confusion flittering across his face as he shifted his grip on the weapon, before it was pulled right back up again, eyes narrowing under the brim of his hat. It was the same hat Reaper remembered. But that wasn’t right... Jesse was some scrawny kid, not, this...
Wait how did he know that?
“Yeah, you know my name, big fuckin’ whoop.” The other man snapped, squaring his shoulders as he glared Reaper down fearlessly.
Reaper caught the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye, gaze drifting down to the other man’s free hand. It was a prosthetic, metal catching the light that filtered down between the buildings.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, just keep talking to me kid, we’re going to get you out of here.” Panic clutched at his chest. He needed to make sure Jesse was safe. The young man’s blood stained his shirt from where his arm had been ripped off by the explosion.
“It ain’t worth it Gabe.” Jesse’s voice was a slurred mumble against Gabriel’s sleeve, his eyes were dazed, unfocused and glassy.
“You’re going to be fine, don’t talk like that.” Gabriel snapped, desperation clawed at him, reminding him of the building that had come down partially on their heads, was there even a way out?
Jesse
It hit him like a hammer to the gut. Memories seemed to blind him for a moment. The kid that had stuck to his side like an overenthusiastic burr. The one he had taken in, cared for. He had dried Jesse’s tears, been there when the young man needed him, he’d been a mentor, a father, for the kid who would have been dead in a ditch by the time he was twenty.
He knew this guy, he knew the person standing in front of him better than he had known himself at one point.
“It’s a shame you don’t recognize me, cabròn.” There was an urge to hug the other man, pull his idiot cowboy close to his chest just for the sake of the closeness he remembered. Remembered being the astonishing thing there. He actually remembered this guy, he remembered the relationship they had once had, long nights spent pouring over paperwork with Jesse snoozing away in his lap. He recalled long nights spent with Jesse’s face in his shoulder when Jesse had nightmares about his family.
The Spanish felt natural falling from his lips. It was his first language after all. Which he was only remembering at the moment. He had all sorts of little nicknames for Jesse, and a lot of them were Spanish. He even remembered teaching Jesse a few little things, phrases and whatnot.
The other man seemed absolutely disarmed by the comment, blinking in surprise and scowling deeply as he glared Reaper down.
“What’n the hell’re you blathering ‘bout?” He was still stubborn, still not backing down, even as Gabriel took a step forward, he didn’t have to be afraid of Jesse. He hadn’t been afraid of the other man in the first place, but he was especially unafraid at that point.
Without thinking, Gabriel raised a hand to his face. The metal of his gauntlet caught against the edges of his mask before he peeled the skull from his face. He never took the mask off outside the Talon base, he wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to. The taller man let the mask drop to the ground, red irises locking with shocked brown. Jesse recoiled violently, nearly dropping Peacekeeper as his wide eyes fixed on the wraith.
“Gabriel?”
#i wrote this instead of sleeping#mcreyes#Sort of#Angsty#angsty reaper#someone help him#memory loss#Memory issues#reaper headcannons are weird lmao#Jesse McCree#Gabriel Reyes#Reaper
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“Holy Shit the Climax is so Huge I had to Split it into Multiple Parts,” an Ede Valley story by Hedgehog.
Part I
Something had to happen. The whole town could feel it. The volatile energy emanating from St. Adelaide’s descended from its hill to the suburb below in waves. Aurum could feel it as she grilled Muirne endlessly on Atlantis and the Truth until she threatened to stab her. Servus, if he could even feel at all, felt it as he watched Muirne and she attempted to communicate with him again.
The students of St. Adelaide’s stalked from hall to hall, looking anxiously over their shoulders. Victor felt it as he became slowly more aware of the situation he found himself in, the idea that Abigail might be more than she seemed. Gil felt it as he began to lose hope of ever seeing Muirne, or even Sonia, again. Doug felt it, dimly, from somewhere deep in the bowels of hell. And Abigail felt it, and began to make plans.
And down in the town below, the people looked to the school and knew that something must be done. Cindy and Tommy knew that their brother was still in there somewhere, and needed their help. Marcell know not only that Cindy needed him, but also that the Truth was somewhere in there as well, and he had been searching for it for so long. Cowell sat in The Smiling Goat and knew that things were going to get very interesting… very quickly.
Niko knew that something needed to be done. For his friends, for the students caught in the crossfire. For Lila. And he was gonna be the one to do it. But for his burgeoning plan to work, he was gonna need some help. And he thought that he knew just where he could get it.
~~ o ~~
They got the text at around three in the morning. All except Aurum, who did not have a cell phone and thus was called the old-fashioned way. But they all got the message one way or another: “Meet at EB. 7AM.”
Tommy was not a morning person, and thus was slightly grumpy. But with a little coaxing from Cowell, who was annoyingly chipper as he knocked on Mathilda’s door at around six, he made it almost on time.
This was not a problem for Marcell, to whom it wasn’t really morning at all, nor Cindy, who besides from a few hours nap on Marcell’s couch hardly slept. They arrived together, several minutes early.
Aurum, Servus, and Muirne were, of course, already there, but none of them emerged from the back rooms before the library was occupied.
Because when all of them opened the door to the central room of the East Branch, Niko was waiting for them. He stood behind a table, a blueprint of St. Adelaide’s laid out on its surface. He’d found a long trench coat and wide-brimmed hat somewhere, and a dark eye-patch now covered that missing device.
He greeted them all with a handshake and a smirk. It was that look that he often adapted when he wanted to look like he had all the answers. But this time, not even Cindy could sense any artifice behind it. It was as if he did, in fact, have all the answers.
Aurum attempted to explain the circumstances surrounding the ancient hero inhabiting the body of his cousin. He seemed troubled, but thoughtful.
“You can use a sword?”
“Aye. Trained with it since I was a wee lass.”
He nodded. “That may make things a little easier. And you think you can get this ‘Gilveidan’ character on our side?”
“I certainly hope so. I’m sorry about your cousin, by the way,” she added, as he began to turn away.
“Just make her sacrifice worth it,” he said simply.
When Tommy and Cowell finally pushed through the door a few minutes late, it looked as if everyone had arrive.
“Well,” Cindy said, eager to see what this was all about. “It looks like we’re all here…”
“Actually, we’re not,” Niko said, all eyes on him. “You see, I’d heard some rumors around the Valley, and I did a little digging, just to see if it was true. Turns out that there’s someone that wants St. Adelaide’s gone just as much as the rest of you. And she brings a lot of firepower with her.”
He snapped his fingers, and the doorway to the library opened for one final time. From the darkness came four figures. Three women who looked like they could kick your ass into the next week just for staring at them funny, and a small girl with blonde pigtails.
“Hey, what’s up fuckers?” asked the redhead.
“These are the Talons,” Niko gestured. “And they’re gonna be what turns the tide in our fight against the school. Because believe me, it will be a fight. And we’re gonna go in guns blazing. So if that doesn’t sound like a good Tuesday night to anyone, now’s your chance to go.”
No one moved.
“Excellent.” Niko grinned, placing a hand on the blueprint in front of him. “Here’s what we’re gonna do…”
~~ o ~~
Victor was up very early that morning, working on his project. His obsession with it had risen to a fever pitch. He was so close, he could feel it. The heart had beat. It had shut down after a minute, but it had beat.
At this point, he didn’t even know why he was doing it. This project had started as a sort of hypothetical ‘what if’. What if he could take something directly out of science fiction and make it a reality? But now that it might actually work, it was all he could think about. That and—
Speaking of the devil, as soon as his thoughts seemed to wander in that direction she appeared. His better half, his muse, Abigail slunk through the door of the shop.
“Good morning,” Victor smiled, even though he didn’t look up.
“Same to you,” she said, suspiciously subdued, and Victor frowned. Usually she would have been much more chipper, and loud. He finally looked up, and noticed that she looked more serious—even slightly nervous—than she usually did. She approached him almost hesitantly.
He blinked. “What’s wrong?”
“Victor,” she said finally, after taking in a deep breath. “There’s something I have to tell you, because things are about to start moving very quickly and if I don’t tell you this now you’re going to find out at a very inopportune time and I need you with me on this.”
It took him a second to get his mind out of project mode and process the massive amount of words that had just emerged from her mouth at a machine-gun pace. “Okay… he said after about a solid minute.
“I’m the Director,” she blurted out immediately.
Victor froze. For a second, the statement didn’t even register. Those two concepts were so fully separated in his head that it was difficult to think about them at the same time. Maybe that’s why he didn’t outright panic, because some part of him couldn’t fully make the connection.
“Oh.” Was all that really came out.
Abigail smiled tensely at the slightly gormless expression alighting his face. It had just crossed his mind that the Director was responsible for so many terrible, awful things. Could she really be the same person as the sweet, caring girl in front of him that even now was looking up at him in worry.
And then a second thought popped into being: he couldn’t really have an opinion on the Director’s actions, because hadn’t he done things that were just as terrible? But that had been different, he justified to himself. The things he had done were for discovery, knowledge. To see if he could really get the designs that danced across his closed eyelids to work in this reality. But maybe…
“Why’d you do all those things?” he asked her. “You know, the psychiatrists and the sessions and… stuff?”
“Why, that’s simple,” she stared up at him, her wide eyes enormous behind her glasses. “To experiment, to discover. For lack of a better word, for science.”
He felt the knot in his stomach loosen. It was as if she had taken the words right out of his mouth.
“Do you hate me?” she frowned.
But Victor shook his head. “No,” he said. “I think I understand you a little too well.”
“Then you’ll help me?” she asked, immediately brightening. “Even if what I have to do might be… horrible?”
He grabbed her arm, and pulled her into him. He didn’t care about good or bad. There was only one god he prayed to. “Let’s burn down the world together. For science.”
“For science…”
~~ o ~~
“This is never going to work,” Cindy grunted as she was bumped along like a sack of potatoes. In fact, she was currently in a sack of potatoes, in the back of a large, unmarked delivery truck.
“Trust me,” Niko said from the barrel next to her. “It is.”
“Aren’t they going to check the cargo? You know, in case someone tried to pull the exact same shit we are currently in the process of pulling?”
“Not if your brother does his job.” Niko looked incredibly confident. Almost too much so, and his calm unnerved Cindy greatly. “Besides, they’re lazy rich kids. Unless someone with brains, like that Doug kid, or Jilli Nakajima herself deems the shipment worthy enough of their attention, we’ll be a-okay.”
“So you’re making a bet,” Marcell chimed in from atop a nearby crate. “Multiple bets actually. You’re betting on laziness, and you’re betting that no one recognizes Tommy.”
Niko just waved the question off. “They shouldn’t. He never got close enough for anyone to get a good look at him. And with that getup we’ve got him in, even less of a problem.”
“Tommy does have a rather distinctive look,” Cindy admitted. “There aren’t many other ‘urban gypsy hobos’ around these parts.”
“Exactly. There’s just one wild card I’m concerned about,” Niko frowned, and everyone’s gaze turned to Servus, who nearly looked annoyed at begin shoved unceremoniously into a huge bag of socks.
“Aurum promised not to have him go wandering off again,” Marcell reminded him.
Raising an eyebrow, Niko didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know, you two seem pretty set on this whole ‘quest for the Truth’ thing. You endangered our lives once before.”
“And so that’s why you split us up.”
“Hey you’re the one who wanted to come with your girlfriend.”
“Made it rather convenient for you, didn’t it?”
Niko stared Marcell down, even while still maintaining his impressive smirk. “Just remember that this is a rescue mission. If we happen to find your ‘Truth’ or whatever then great, but if not, you’re not gonna fuck up my stellar plan, capeesh?”
“Ladies, please. Stop bitching,” Cindy rolled her eyes. “We’re almost there.”
And true enough, some of the boxes had begun to slide towards the back of the truck as it angled increasingly uphill.
“I just hope this ‘stellar plan’ of yours works,” Marcell sighed.
“If the other group does their job, which they will,” Niko leaned back. “Then we’ll be just fine…”
~~ o ~~
Aurum looked rather constipated, if Cowell was one-hundred-percent honest, which he often was, if only in his head. She scrunched up her face, concentrating hard.
“Do I need to get a bucket for you to sit on?” Cowell asked when he couldn’t hold the joke in any longer.
She glared at him. “I don’t need anything else from you, thank you very much.”
“Is it usually this hard to form a connection with the deadpan hunk of metal?”
“His name is Servus,” she corrected.
Cowell just shook his head. “Ah yes, because ‘slave’ in Latin is so much better.”
“But no, it’s not,” Aurum ignored him. “maybe it’d be easier if I didn’t have to stare at your smug gob.”
“I’m sorry, am I just too stunningly attractive that you simply can’t concentrate?” He dramatically flipped a hand to his forehead. “I’ll turn away.”
“Do that.”
He turned on his heel, and looked off towards the far wall of books. There was quiet in the library for a minute as Aurum focused and Cowell played a game with himself to see how long he could draw out the tension.
Finally, after a good, solid effort of about thirty seconds, he started to turn back around. “So, just curious, do you have any books in here with pictures at all, or are they all just as dry and boring as y—?”
“Quiet!” she snapped. “I’m almost there… I…”
And then she fell out of her chair.
“Are you having a stroke?” Cowell asked.
But she didn’t seem to have heard him. She just grabbed her chest and breathed heavily.
“My god you are, aren’t you?”
“No! Just shut up for one. Second and listen. He fought back against me.”
Cowell shrugged. “Maybe he got sick of you mucking around in his head.”
“He isn’t even capable of basic thought on his own. No there’s… there’s something… in there.”
~~ o ~~
The announcement had been made early that morning, and the remaining students, anxious, pale, cowed, gathered in the cafeteria. It was a very different student body than it had been at the beginning of the semester. It was smaller, for one, maybe half the size as it had been, but it was also quieter, furtive. Instead of waving to each other and laughing as they met, the students slunk from hall to hall, always looking over their shoulders. Jilli had rubbed off on them, and they had seen things.
Now as they sat in the high, arched room, Abigail hardly had to wait a second for them to quiet down.
The remnants of their once happy little family, Victor and Gil, stood to the side. Victor gave her an anxious little smile and a thumbs-up, while Gil simply glared daggers at her. Nihil was somewhere upstairs, keeping an eye on her office in case any rodents attempted to sneak in.
Abigail smiled back at Victor, and took the stage.
Gil leaned over to him. “I take it you are not yet aware of her true nature?” he asked.
“Oh no. I am.”
Blinking, Gil turned to him properly. “Then you’re aware that she has no real affection for you. That she only cares about her goals, whatever those may be?”
“I don’t know about that,” Victor replied, with a surprising lack of naivete. “But yes, I know she’s using me. I’m using her too.”
“I—” Gil frowned, stepping an inch away. “I seem to have misjudged you.”
Meanwhile, Abigail stepped forward, and the room became so silent that it seemed the whole world was holding its breath. “Fellow students,” Abigail began. “This morning I’m here to bring you some unfortunate news. Jilli Nakajima is dead.”
Even from the unnaturally quiet crowd of teenagers there was a shifting, an unbelieving rumble.
“But never fear, even if your noble leader is dead, I have come to take back control.”
She paused, grinning as the meaning of her words sunk in.
“Some of you know me as Abigail Hodge, which is, of course, my name. But I also have another name. More of you know me by that title. You see…” she held her voice changing box to her mouth. “I am the Director. And from now on, with no suits, no parents, no society to hold me back, there are going to be some changes around—”
The student body had, by this point of course, already begun to panic. It didn’t help matters when a flying motorcycle came through the window. A cry went up from the crowd as shattered glass fell among them, and then as the dust cleared, there was silence.
A woman and a girl with blonde pigtails sat on the bike. Abigail blinked. “Paragon Alpha? Is that you?” she tittered as the little girl dismounted and faced her. “It is. You know, in a million years I never thought you’d come back after I kept you imprisoned for so long.”
Gil stepped forward, and Victor reached for his remote control, but Abigail raised a hand and held them back.
“I’ve thought about it long and hard, and I’ve decided to tell you the truth,” Buttercup said in a flat voice.
“Oh?” Abigail asked. “The truth? Really. I don’t know what you could possibly mean.”
“You’ve been lied to, for all these years,” Buttercup continued, not breaking her intense stare. “And I’ll tell you, but first you need to let these children go.”
“Why would they want to leave?”
Buttercup sighed. “I know what you’re planning. You’re going to use them for experiments, to make yourself an army.”
The crowd gasped as one, and from there a manic cacophony began to build.
Abigail sighed. “Well, now you’re just causing panic. Fine. They can go. I can always find more subjects.”
As if on command, the doors to the cafeteria blew open and the amalgamate of students rushed through. The two parties waited for the room to clear, and finally, when Abigail grew too impatient: “Alright, I’ve done what you asked. Now what is this about the truth?”
Buttercup sighed. “You’ve been told your whole life that your father died for Project Paragon, died trying to prevent my escape. But that’s not the truth. I lied. I thought it would be easier for you to grow up thinking that. The truth is…” she shook her head. “He died trying to help me escape. The things they did to us, to me, was truly horrible, something your father realized too late to prevent. But it’s not too late for you. You can still—”
Except that Abigail cut her off then, not with words, but with laughter, the harsh sounds biting through the air. “It that what you think this is about? Continuing my father’s legacy? He died when I was a child. I barely knew him. The only interest he held for me was his connection to the Project.”
“Then think of the human cost,” Buttercup pleaded. “Do you really want to create more people like me?”
“I already have.”
There was silence. Abigail stared at Buttercup, Buttercup stared back, horror dawning on her face.
“I was afraid of this.” She turned to her companion, the redhaired woman on the motorbike. “She’s too far gone, Lilith. We have to kill her.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Lilith grinned broadly. She put a finger between her teeth and whistled, before revving the bike.
“Ooohh,” Abigail clapped her hands together. “Are we having more company? Gil, Victor, you know what to do.”
Victor clicked a few switches on his remote control and a series of machines seemingly emerged from the walls, humming to life. Gil raised his hands, but only a few bolts of purple electricity passed between his palms before he froze.
Because just then, a voice resounded through the room. “Gilveidan, you All-Knowing piece of garbage!”
And suddenly, for the first time that any of them had seen, Gilveidan grinned from ear to ear. “I am in so much trouble.”
Three women flew through the hole in the window, two that Gil didn’t recognize. But the third, her blonde hair flowing wildly behind her, her face set in an entirely different expression than he had become used to, he knew very well. Her face was still Sonia’s, but the fire in her eyes, that was undeniably…
“Muirne,” he breathed.
The Talons and Buttercup charged the machines, swords and tennis shoes blazing. And in the middle of it all, Gilveidan and Muirne met. He held her in his arms for the first time in so long. And it was odd, but he hadn’t even realized just how much he’d missed her until she was in his arms again.
Then she slapped him.
“I deserved that,” he said.
“Siding with her?” Muirne nearly bared her teeth. “As the new expression goes: ‘what the hell are you on’?”
“In my defense you weren’t coming back and it was sort of my only option.”
Muirne stared him down. “Ooo, if we weren’t in the middle of a fight we would be having some words.”
“Shall we ‘kick some ass’?” he smiled.
“Aye,” she grinned back. “Let’s.”
Across the room, Buttercup turned and saw Abigail and Victor sneak from the room. If she hadn’t been pinned by three different machines, each with a varying set of very sharp edges, she would have gone after them. But the others needed her here.
She’d given the others as much cover as she could. If Abigail was to be believed, she had a sneaking suspicion of who her subject had been. Good luck to them. They were going to need every bit of it they could get.
#Ede Valley#writing#story#cindy miller#aurum#Muirne D'Irn#lucius marcell#tommy miller#niko borozov#cowell#abigail hodge#victor west#gil trenton#servus#buttercup#the talons
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