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#this is a six foot tall physically fit guy who's doing everything he can to just rip everything off and go
the-al-chemist · 2 years
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5, 18, 22, 42 & 50 for chartemis?🥹 (sorry i love them too much)
Hello, my lovely anon! 💛 Though I do not know your name, I can tell that we have a lot in common. Thank you for the ask!
5. What’s their love language like? Are they compatible with one another?
Charlie might be the most underrated Weasley, but he is still a Weasley. Weasleys don’t have much, but what they do have they have to share. He tends to give gifts to show his appreciation/affection, because for him, getting someone a meaningful gift either involves saving up his money to buy something, or taking the time to make it himself. Either way, it is not the gift that is the important thing, but the thought and effort that’s gone into it. That being said, his preferred love language is actually quality time, because growing up with six siblings, time is a precious commodity when it comes to having someone’s full and undivided attention.
Artemis also likes quality time with her loved ones. Again, this has been shaped by the events of her life. Growing up, she might have preferred words of affirmation, but she has come to realise that time spent with someone you love is never wasted, and that in the end, it’s the thing you will always wish you had more of, not gifts or words or favours. She’s not overly touchy feely, so physical touch isn’t a love language for her, but it does mean that how she physically makes contact with someone is pretty telling when it comes to how she feels about them.
18. How are they like on a road trip together?
Artemis is chaotic. Everything is organised at the last minute, she wants to see and do and experience EVERYTHING she can. That being said, she is pretty easily pleased when it comes to locations, as long as she doesn’t have to stand and queue or do anything too boring.
Charlie is more laid back and will go with the flow, but that’s mainly because he had everything he really needed organised in advance. He doesn’t really like the bustle and crowds in big cities, and needs to go somewhere quiet and see something green every single day or he’ll want to just go home. City parks are his saving grace.
22. Do they ever share clothes?
Artemis is five foot tall and kind of scrawny. Though he isn’t tall for a bloke, Charlie is built like a brick sh*t house. He is never going to fit in her clothes.
She fits in his though.
42. Have they ever been jealous?
Yes and no, for both of them.
Charlie would say that no, he has never been jealous. He has had feelings for Artemis for a while, and in that time she’s dated a few guys, and he’s been absolutely fine with all of them. Yes, he wasn’t too happy that time she almost got engaged, but that was just because he knew that it wasn’t what she really wanted or would make her happy. Definitely no selfish resentment on any level whatsoever there…
As for Artemis, she most definitely has been jealous, but not in the way you’d expect. The annoyance she felt when Charlie first had a girlfriend in their sixth year at school (yep, it’s coming!) was more due to her already being incredibly emotionally unstable at that time and the fact that she felt like she was losing yet another friend in short succession. The thing that really makes her jealous is not Charlie loving other people, but how much he is loved, namely by his family. She’s more jealous of him than she is because of him.
50. Is there anything that scares them about their friendship/relationship?
Would Artemis still want to be Charlie’s best friend if she knew how he felt about her? Who knows, but it’s not a risk Charlie is willing to take. He’s scared of letting her down and losing her.
People in Artemis’ life have a tendency to leave. Not of all them come back. She’s scared of being let down by and losing him, too.
They may not technically be a ship, but I love that you love my chaos gremlin and her friend-who-could-be-more. As a Charlie/Artemis shipper, I’m afraid that you’re in for some chapters that might make you want to scream at me over the next couple of months. Sorry in advance.
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maschotch · 2 years
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A Creep? (Sapnap)
MASTERLIST 
pairing : sapnap x reader 
summary : in the world of flashing cameras and big stages, love lives don’t exist, and there’s no such thing as personal space. 
a/n : a sapnap story for y’all, muah. also, thank you so so much for 175 followers, holy crap.
-
your backstory is quite simple. a texan girl who had a dream of singing, but was limited since the main genre of your state was country. 
you appreciated the genre, but you have never been interested in making country music, the song choices never fit your voice. you didn’t even think you had a texan accent, at least that was what people told you. 
your parents have always been super supportive of what you do, constantly posting your covers on youtube, hoping that people out there enjoy to listen to you as much as they did. 
your dad had been the one to encourage you to do busking. he says it’ll be a great opportunity for you to learn what it’s like to sing in front of people, and a chance for you to get rid of your stage fright. 
so you did that. you started busking when you were about fourteen and stopped when you turned sixteen.
no, you didn’t stop because you were quitting, or that you were tired of it. instead, you were really lucky, and got recognised pretty early on your busking days. 
your dad decided that it was best to move to the US, where it’s closer to the record company that you were tied to. hence, that was what you all did. 
well, that was what you and your dad did. your mum decided to stay in houston to take care of your younger sibling. she felt that it was best they all stayed. 
that didn’t mean you guys were distancing from each other. instead, it felt like you were closer, calling everyday, making sure she knew what you and your dad were up to, and making sure that they were okay back in texas. 
you would consider yourself extremely lucky, for getting to experience what it’s like to be in the industry from young, for being able to produce music really quickly, for being able to attract people so quickly, those who liked your music. 
in your prime age of eighteen, you decided it was best to move back and forth from texas and california, from where you live. since things are going smoothly and you weren’t really needed in the US all the time, you thought it was best to move to texas again for the time being. 
you could say your music career was going pretty well. you found a loyal fanbase who enjoyed listening to your music as much as you enjoyed producing them. you were glad to have listened to your dad from such an early age. 
you were happy doing what you’re doing. but you were losing things to write about. 
being young, you didn’t have experiences in anything. sure, you excelled in school well and continued to attend online courses but you never really had friends, you never had a love life. 
a lot of people would say you’re too young, that it shouldn’t irk you this much, not being in a relationship but you thought the opposite. 
granted, you are happy with the close relationship you and your family have but you wanted to know what it would be like to be loved by someone else, to feel what it’s like to be held. 
you craved it. you’ve heard all about it, the pain, or the happiness it comes with. but you wanted to experience it for yourself.
so your dad and you move back to houston to your old house, not letting go of the house in california since you knew you’d come back once in a while. 
something that you hated telling people was what you did for a living. most traditional families would think that music can never bring food to the table, but times have change and music have changed a lot of people’s lives. 
another thing you hated explaining was why people took photos of you everywhere. with certain popularity, in comes curiousity. people want to know what you’re up to. 
and as weird as that sounds, you needed to get used to it. even though it was obvious that paparazzi’s jobs are basically an invasion of privacy. 
although you thought you could never be important enough for someone to document every step you take, paparazzi’s thought differently. but you understood it to a certain extent. it was their job, after all. 
as much as your job is important, so is theirs. 
sometimes it does get annoying though. you could be just in a grocery store, shopping for ingredients alone and there would be a swarm of paparazzi’s waiting outside to catch you and ask some questions. 
and everyday, a different question arrives. 
you never held back in telling them what they wanted answers to, you never had to hide anything. so what was the point of hiding. they never asked anything of importance, anyway. 
although the number of paparazzi’s lessened as you moved back to houston, the numbers weren’t small enough for you not to get overwhelmed. 
it really shocked you the extent they would go to write something vaguely interesting in an article. you didn’t even know how they knew you were moving back, but you never questioned it. 
as long as they don’t invade your privacy at home, all is good. 
about a couple months ago, you decide that your house was getting too boring and cramped with the cries of your little sister to really write anything good for your new album, so you found yourself sitting in a starbucks about less than an hour away from your house. 
you thought it was best to find somewhere further away from where you lived just in case someone spots you. you hoped for the opposite, though. 
you found yourself sitting in a secluded spot at the side, next to a window, facing the parking spots. you knew you’d stay for a while, so you tried to find a spot where people wouldn’t really see you. 
of course, with the way starbucks is set up, everyone can see everyone and but you can’t complain. the place had good drinks and pastry, and had pretty good wifi in case you needed to use your laptop at some point. 
you texted your manager from time to time, earphones in both your ears, listening to the newest sza single. this was the best time to finally catch up on some new music you missed out on. 
often times than not, you’d be typing away in your computer, stopping to grab your iced drink in your right hand to sip it, putting it down after a couple seconds. 
but you hated not knowing your surroundings, it has been what your mum taught you since young, to never be vulnerable, especially in public. with that lesson etched in your brain, you’d look up and around the cafe to see the changed of people once in a while. 
about an hour or two after you seated, you noticed a man walking in, wearing a simple, t-shirt and jeans outfit, carrying a backpack seating on the spot opposite you, but more on your left. 
he sat facing you so you quickly knew what he looked like the moment he sat down. 
for some reason, he caught you eye. 
he was fairly tall, taller than you at least, but wasn’t above six foot, not that it mattered. his hair was long, noticeably not been cut for a while, and had a short stubble, which suited his face so well. 
upon others, he seemed like the normal looking texan, white male. but to you, he was attractive. everything with him seemed to fit so well. he looked about your age, though you’re terrible at telling ages. 
you looked older than eighteen sometimes, yourself. you blamed it on the identity crisis you once had in california when you turned seventeen. 
you watched him silently as he stood up to the counter to order something. you snapped out of your thoughts, thinking if you got caught, he’d surely call you a creep. 
it had been pretty quiet actually. a couple came up to you when you walked in, asking for a photo but that was it. 
it seemed like it was going to be a relaxed writing day for you. 
your eyes glanced once more to the texan male as he settled down, typing away on his laptop. perhaps he’s writing an essay for school. maybe he’s still in college. 
but who were you judging, you, who was seated typing away probably looked like a college student, too. well, you are, just that you didn’t attend physical school. not that you were doing school work at that point, anyways. 
that day had been reserved for writing. and it seemed like you’d be coming to this starbucks more often.
no, it’s not to check on that man, obviously. 
even i can sense the sarcasm in my own tone. what the hell is wrong with me? i see one attractive male around me and i don’t know how to act? that’s so unlike me. 
you sat at the same spot for another three hours, eventually getting another drink when your first one ran out. you felt relaxed, thinking about your life, about what you wanted your new song to sound like. 
you and your producer texted back and forth, sending each other files of different guitar and piano notes you both liked to be into your song. 
you were so focused that you hadn’t looked up for a while. so you did that, you glanced up to check your surroundings, to see what had changed from the past couple hours.
looks like that guy is still there. it’s been so long. must’ve been a long essay. 
your eyes looked back on your laptop, clicking on a short snippet of a music file to listen to on your earphones that haven’t left your ears for about four hours. 
you listened to the file, eyes glued to your notepad in your laptop, trying to decipher if the beat went along with your lyrics. you picked up your cold drink with your right hand, putting it up to your lips as your eyes never moved from your laptop. 
while you gulped a couple sips, you decide to look out the window.
your heart skipped a couple beats as you surprised yourself, seeing a row of people with cameras flashing and recording you in your seat. 
damn, has it been that long since i looked up from my laptop? 
you slowly put down your iced drink, pulling your long sleeved sweater to cover your hands, covering your face for a couple seconds to calm yourself down before you looked up again. 
you were pretty acquaintanced with some of them outside, so they offered you a big smile, some of them laughing at the shock on your face when you spotted them. 
you were embarrassed, to say the least. people here weren’t used to you and didn’t know who you were, aside from the few who asked for your autograph from earlier. you didn’t want to make them uncomfortable. 
with your covered hands, you waved at them but told them to go home, mouthing the words to them, hoping they caught on with what you were trying to tell them. 
you made a ‘shoo’ motion with your hands, signaling them to leave, that you didn’t want the company today.
since they all couldn’t hear you anyways, they soon left one by one, thinking they got enough footage of you for the day, to save their films for another day. 
you knew that you couldn’t go to that starbucks as often as you wanted anymore, you didn’t want the same paparazzi’s to swarm the whole cafe.
so you didn’t end up coming back to the same starbucks location for a while. specifically, for about three weeks. 
for the time being, you went to several small cafe’s, where no one knew you, aside from strangers who called themselves your supporters who spotted you drinking your coffee. 
you were sad when you had to leave the starbucks that day. you knew that if he were to indeed come the next day, the same time, you wouldn’t be able to see him for a long time. 
you weren’t even sure if you’ll see him again after that. houston is huge, after all. 
when you walked into the same starbucks from three weeks ago, the barista greeted you, practically shouting your name out, telling you how much he misses you, since you came only once before this. 
you went to him first, ordered a drink and spoke to him for a couple minutes before telling him that you needed to start writing things before you lose your motivation. 
you sat in a different seat this time, a little scared of sitting next to the window. 
you found yourself sitting in a further in spot, furthest away from the door and windows, unlike last time. hopefully this time, no one can spot you from outside. 
but you were sure that the paparazzi’s were tired of waiting on your never arrival there that they’ve probably given up. 
there was a reason you came again, though. and you’re sure you made it obvious. you just wanted to see him again. 
-
SAPNAP POV 
there was not a day i don’t stop by that starbucks. but that was the first time i had ever seen you in there. you seemed to like your own space, away from people. 
it sure did look like you were so focused in getting your essay done. you barely looked up from your laptop.
i just couldn’t look away from where you seated. you just looked so beautiful, but so mysterious. being since i’ve never seen you before. but for some reason, i felt like i’ve seen you somewhere. i just didn’t know where. 
but it shocked me even more when i saw the sea of people waiting outside, pointing huge cameras on you. 
when i first spotted a couple people standing outside, i assumed that some celebrity was going to walk in soon, or that they were already sitting, just in some sort of disguise, or that i didn’t know who they were. 
i didn’t really care, and continued typing in my laptop, wanting to quickly finish work before i could relax and finish drinking my cup of coffee sitting right in front of me. 
but then i started noticing that they kept on getting closer to the window that you were seated next to. so i stopped what i was doing, and curiously looked, as some of the customers in there stared as well. 
i did see someone coming up to you, talking, but i assumed that you knew them. maybe they were your family and they came to say hi before needing to urgently go. 
but i can see that i was wrong. 
every single camera was pointed your way. there was like ten people standing outside of the cafe, some cameras flashing, others recording you. 
you hadn’t noticed yet at that point, still very much focused in whatever you were doing on your laptop. 
you finally picked up your drink, eyes finally leaving your work to look around you. you almost choked on your drink, seeing the cameras. 
you put your drink down, pulling your sleeves to cover your hands and covered your face with them, clearly caught off guard and embarrassed. 
you smiled at them, waving a little before politely telling them to leave, that you had to finish doing something, as you pointed to your laptop to them. 
you seemed to know them. you didn’t really look uncomfortable, but more of cautious of what people in the cafe would think of the commotion. 
soon, they left anyways, seeing as there was nothing they could really document from you sitting inside, and they couldn’t really ask any questions. 
about an hour later, you left, the barista greeting you, saying that he hoped to see you again soon.
now i’m more intrigued. who could you be? 
how did so many people know you? 
soon after her, i got into my car and drove home, exhausted from doing school work all day. the coffee helped for a couple hours and now clearly wearing off. 
george and dream texted me, telling me to join their discord call, saying that george was streaming and they wanted to talk about some weird shit. 
well, there goes my extra sleep for the day. 
soon, he ended his stream and the three of us were left talking about how our days went. 
“dude, mine was so confusing.” i stated last, after hearing what dream had to say about patches shitting everywhere on his carpet due to diarrhoea. 
“what do you mean?” dream asked me. 
“there was this girl, she came in before me into the same starbucks i go really often, right?” i stopped to make sure they were listening. they hummed to let me know they were.
“ten paparazzi’s swarmed the starbucks. they just pointed their cameras at her while she sat on a table at the side.” i said. 
“she was so shocked to see them at first, but she quickly told them to leave. she looked not comfortable with the stares after that she had to leave like an hour later. i don’t even know if she finished her work.” i finished. 
“wait really? what did she look like?” george asked. 
“my age, hair pretty long. she looked shorter than me and she was wearing flared jeans with a graphic tee.” i described her the best that i could.
“wait. you said starbucks in houston, right?” dream cut in. 
“yeah, why?” i asked, hoping for some answers. 
“i just saw the photos. i know her. she’s a singer, moved back to texas from california recently.” dream told me. 
“she’s like extremely known dude, how did you not know?” george said after dream told me who she was.
“i don’t know artists besides 21 savage, i’m sorry.” they laughed.
dream sent in her instagram in discord for me to see. 
i searched her name on instagram and scrolled through her photos and highlights, switching to youtube to listen to her music after that. 
i quickly clicked follow, wanting to be updated whenever she posted. i didn’t care if we met in real life anymore, i’m just intrigued at this point.
but it’s not like she’ll see my username following her. she has people following her everyday, she must not check it, right?
you had over a hunder million followers on instagram. i’m just shocked i hadn’t heard of her. maybe that’s where she was familiar.
i came back to the same place the following da, the week after. i came everyday and couldn’t find you anywhere. 
well, not that i could blame you, you were swarmed the first time you came, anyways. 
i saw the paparazzi’s waiting every single day, hoping to get a glimpse of you to ask questions but soon gave up and ended up not returning after a week seeing as you stopped coming. 
but you didn’t stop coming. you ended up coming three weeks after your first time. 
the barista practically jumped on the spot and screamed your name, i was sure everyone in the cafe knew you came in after that. 
you didn’t check the entirety of your surroundings so i was sure didn’t know who was seating where. i wasn’t even sure if you knew me, or remembered me from last time. did you even notice me?
this time, instead of sitting next to the window, she sat on the table to my right, we were both facing the direction of the barista. you sat where you could rest on the wall like i did, so we were basically in the same position, just next to each other. 
you settled into your seat, putting your drink down, turning on your laptop and got ready a little notebook that you had from inside your bag. 
while you sipped on your drink, you looked around to finally see what was around you. my eyes and yours locked at the same time, being i didn’t look away from my stare from when you came in. 
you smiled at me, acknowledging me. i gave her a smile back before turning back to my laptop to make myself busy. 
you had your hair different today. last time, it was down, and showed your natural looking hair but this time you had it pulled up into a ponytail. i guess you meant business today. 
i don’t know if that means you didn’t want people talking to you, or. 
oh, you put on your earphones. i guess you didn’t want to be disturbed, then. 
i kept staring at every part of you. okay, that sounded wrong and makes me sound like a pervert. 
you looked perfect. every single ring you wore on your fingers fit perfectly. your hair pulled back gave me the chance to see your side profile. your outfit casual, straight jeans with a sweatshirt on. 
god, you are beautiful. 
-
you felt his stares. he stared for a good couple minutes before he went back to his laptop to finish whatever he came here for. 
so he did remember me from last time. or he just noticed me today. or did he know who i was? 
“god i hope he’s not one of those creeps.” you thought. finally i find a guy attractive and he’s a creep? i hope not.
at some point in the couple of hours you’ve seated there, you had to take out your earphones to focus even more on writing something, instead of getting distracted with listening to something. 
you really wanted to come out with a new album in a couple months, and to do that, you needed to write something. urgently. 
you sipped your drink from time to time. you even had to facetime your producer for a while to ask on his take for the path you’re going with your new songs. 
he was really supportive and heard what you wanted and didn’t dump all his opinion and tried to call it a day. that was what you liked about him. he seemed to always take your thoughts into consideration.
playing with the rings on your finger, you looked up to look around to think of a word that seems to be at the back of your head, just you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it. 
there was no paparazzi’s today, thankfully. you were able to just keep your thoughts at bay and not have to be worried about the swarm of people waiting for you to answer their questions. 
you glanced at the man seated next to you just for him to notice your stare and look up from his work and matched your gaze. 
you hadn’t expected him to notice so you gave him a small, shy smile. to which he gave you back one. 
“do you mind if i, uh. sit with you?” he asked, pointing at the seat next to you. 
your heart jumped. holy crap this was happening. 
“i don’t mind, here.” you moved to your left to give him space to slide in next to you. he took that seat, moving his stuff from his table to yours, now laptops next to each other, your elbows touching. 
-
you two laughed at a dumb joke he said. 
to you, his name was nick but had apparently been sapnap to his online friends and fans. 
you were amazed at what he did as a hobby. sure, your job was a close second, but not close enough. you found it fascinating and promised him that you would check his channel out someday. 
that, to which he told you that he was embarrassed now and regretted telling you about what he does in his spare time. but you told him that he had nothing to worry about and that nothing could creep you out. 
you two spent a while talking to each other, even getting each other’s numbers at some point and promised to come here more often to meet other and do work together more often. 
“i actually had noticed you from the first time you came. it’s hard not to when there was a sea of people outside for you a couple hours later.” he told you. you covered your face with your hands, embarrassed that his first impression of you was that crazy. 
“i noticed you from the moment you walked in a few weeks ago too, i was a little sad when i had to leave.” you told him. 
“but please, no more speaking about the swarm of men waiting outside to talk to me. i am still as embarrassed to this day.” you started another sentence. 
“it was shocking, but i think i needed the experience, you know?” he laughed. 
you two sat there, next to each other until the sun sets, till the there was no sign of the sun at all, till the moon was high in the sky. 
you two didn’t realise how long you’ve sat there until his parents called him, asking where he was. and when your dad texted you. 
you two promised each other to come again the next day to meet and do work. actually do work this time, not just talk. although you both knew that you two would end up talking instead. 
with the promise to text you when he reaches home, he left the place and got in his car to drive home. 
that was nice. well, now you had something to write. 
with a smile etched on your face, you stayed in the cafe for about another two hours writing about the happiness you felt in your heart until you decide to leave. 
oh and yeah, he definitely texted you when he reached home. and fulfilled his promise to meet you again the next day, and the next, and more after that. 
you never ran out of ideas of things to write after that. it seemed that you had finally found someone who you could share new experiences with. 
and even after years of dating, he still teases you about writing multiple songs about him even before you started dating. 
god, he’s adorable. 
well, you could say that he wasn’t a creep after all.
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awkward-gay-bro · 4 years
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A New League
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Before the accident Seth Rollins was on top of the world and now he was stuck in this stupid hospital bed. People can say wrestling is fake all they want but these injuries are definitely real. Seth miscalculated a jump during a table ladder chair match and things weren’t looking good. He broke a few bones, pulled a few muscles, a little internal bleeding. Nothing he hadn’t done before. But some news station took it a little too seriously. Then twitter mobbed about it. And now the WWE is taking it way too seriously trying to cover their asses. 
Seth leans up in his hospital bed as Vince McMahon walks into the room. “How bad is it Seth?”
“The doctor said I’m never going to be able to wrestle again. He’s full of shit, though. I’ll be back in the ring in no time.” 
“We can’t do that Seth, not with you in this condition. Your injuries were pretty well documented, and we aren’t going to take the bad publicity if you get hurt further,” Vince said rather coldly. 
“Ten years. I’ve been wrestling for ten years and you are just gonna cut me loose? There are people a decade older than me that are way more worn out still going at it. I’m not ready to be done.” Seth wasn’t about to give up. This was his life and he wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.
“I’m sorry, Seth. Their injuries didn’t make the five o clock news the way yours did,” McMahon said, turning around to leave the room. 
The reality of the situation was really starting to sink into Seth. He stared down at his multiple casts, his hair falling down into his eyes, and with a hint of begging in his voice, he said, “Mr. McMahon, I’ll do anything.”
Stopping in the doorway, turning just his head, McMahon said, “Well, there is one thing we could try. You may not want to go through with it.”
“What is it?”
“Well, we’ve been funding a medical research center who has been doing some interesting things when it comes to physical therapy. We wanted to find a way to speed up the healing process or even better prevent the need for one.”
“Did you find one?” Seth said as the light returned to his face.
“Well they have created a process, and they’ve had some success in their initial trials. Of course, the last few of your peers they tried it on had some pretty severe side effects.” But none of that mattered. All that mattered was that Seth Rollins was going to get out of this hospital bed and back in that ring. 
“I don’t care what the side effects are. I’m in. As soon as I can.”
“Alright, well let’s get it scheduled on the book. How does tomorrow sound?”
It was the morning after the procedure and Seth was laying in a bed in the research center. Another day, another hospital bed. Seth wiped the sleep out of his eyes, stretched his arms out wide, and yawned a massive yawn. That’s when it him. The aches and pains from his recent injury were completely gone. Hell, the longer persisting ache from his old knee injury, from his previously torn ACL, everything, they were all gone. He hadn’t felt this good since he was 18 years old. 
“Good morning, sleepy head.” Vince McMahon was standing at the foot of his bed while a young guy who must have been with the research company started jotting things down on a chart. As the man left the room Seth couldn’t help but notice how nicely the scrubs hugged the guy’s perky little...
Woah, that’s not a thought Seth had ever had before. Nothing wrong with it. He’d caught that closet case Ambrose checking him out in the locker room and it never bothered him. But he definitely wasn’t the one having doing the checking. 
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling great Mr. McMahon. Does my voice sound weird to you? Never mind, doesn’t matter. I feel so great I think I could get back in the ring tomorrow!” Seth said, speaking a mile a minute. 
“Slow your roll there Rollins. You’re going to notice a few changes, so I thought it would be best if I was here to talk you through them all. Some might have already become apparent to you...others might take a little time.”
“Hey the only change I care about is how strong I feel right now.”
“Well Seth, strong might not be a word I would use to describe you anymore,” Vince said with a snide chuckle.
“What is that supposed to mean? I feel better now than I’ve ever felt in my life!” Seth excitedly shouted.
“Maybe it would best if I showed you,” McMahon said. As the 74 year man walked closer towards him Seth started to notice how much bigger and bulkier he was looking than usual. Vince kept in great shape for his age but damn he was looking huge. 
“How long was out for? The gains you’ve got...that had to have taken months,” Seth said as Vince reached down and grabbed his hand. Vince’s hand was massive, too, it was almost twice the size of Seth’s. How was that even possible?
“The initial procedure only took about an hour. Everything else happened while you slept last night.” That couldn’t be right though. Vince was huge. And as Seth stood up he saw just how huge he was. Seth and Vince were the same height of 6 ft 1 but Seth wasn’t looking into McMahon’s eyes anymore. In fact, Seth’s eye line was now level with McMahon’s nipples. 
“Holy shit McMahon, did you have them do something to you? You’re massive. Can they do it to me, too?” Seth said excitedly. What ever made McMahon so huge he wanted in. Shit, was he already going to grow huge? McMahon said some changes may not be apparent yet. 
“I’ve never gone through the procedure, Seth,” guiding Seth to the other part of the room. As he did the cute male nurse from earlier came back into the room, fiddling with something in the closet. From a laying position Seth hadn’t noticed how tall he was either. No wonder those scrubs were so tight around his ass, it must be hard to find ones that fit right. 
“Excuse me sir, how tall are you?” Seth asked, ignoring the part of his brain that was ogling the equally tight front of the guy’s scrubs. 
“Oh, I’m just over five nine,” he said as he pulled a full length mirror out of the closet. 
“That’s impossible, I’m six...” Seth started to say as his new reality started to piece together. Standing there, mouth aghast, Seth finally realized what those side effects were. Seth was a runt. It looked like he had deflated in on himself. He was tiny. His head didn’t reach the top of the mirror. He had to be around five foot four. Being short would be one thing. He could live with short. But he was a twig. His once broad shoulders were now slimmer than this hips. His veiny, hairy, muscular arms were now half the size of what he was used to. When he squinted his eyes he could see there was still a peach fuzz of hair coating them, albeit light, blonde, and sparse. He was just glad that his shapeless hospital gown was sparing him the embarrassment of knowing what the rest of his body looked like. 
Not that his face was any better. His signature scruffy beard was completely gone. His face was smooth for the first time since puberty. His once rugged jaw and manly features had softened into an almost angelic visage. His already long hair looked fuller and fluffier on this shrunken body. His lips were full and rosy and his eyes were the only thing on his body that looked bigger. Well, that was until he turned around to see why the cold air was coming through his hospital gown. 
Seth had always had a nice muscular ass. He’d seen enough pictures of it pop up online. But while the rest of his body shrunk it looked like he lost no muscle mass from his disproportionate globes and gained a small layer of fat. The globes defied gravity the way the stood up like a shelf on his lithe new frame. 
“We don’t want you exhausting too much energy just yet, let’s get you back to bed,” said the male nurse as put his arm around Seth’s hip and guided him back to bed. As the nurse moved Seth across the room his hand brushed against Seth’s cheek which caused both to jiggle far longer than Seth thought they should. Oddly the feeling of another man’s hand on his ass made his wood spring to attention. Seth immediately blushed red as he knew a hospital gown wasn’t going to hide anything and then blushed even harder when he realized it did. 
“How...how could you do this to me?” Seth asked, whimpering.
“I told you there were side effects. You said you would do anything,” Vince said, looking down at the much smaller man. 
“I said I would do anything to wrestle again. How am I supposed to wrestle like this? I’m ruined,” Seth said, tears in his eyes.
“Well you can’t wrestle in the WWE that’s for sure. Hell, Trish could take you down with one hand behind her back. But you can still wrestle,” Vince said, stifling back laughter as he did. 
“Where are on Earth could I wrestle like this?”
“Well like I said, you weren’t the first person to go through the procedure. And with results like these you won’t be the last. Hell, we’ve already made deals with other sports organizations for their injured athletes. The NFL. The NHL. FIFA. Hell even the ATP. And all those athletes are going to want to work somewhere. Soon enough we will have a whole new league for you to wrestle in. Of course, you’ll need a more fitting stage name and costume. Here, I brought someone along to illustrate the look I am going for,” with that Vince stepped out of the room and quickly came back in his arm around a tiny little twink of a man with long curling red hair. The boy had porcelain white skin that was coated with the lightest dusting of freckles from his face down towards under his shirt. His lips were a rosy red made all the brighter contrasted against his snowy skin. His eyes were sparkling an emerald green while his red eye lashes softly fluttered as his wavy curls fell in front of his face.  
“This is one of our first wrestlers in our new league, you may know him as...”
“Sheamus??? Is that Sheamus?”  Seth interrupted. The boy looked nothing like he 6ft4in brick of muscle but no one had seen the behemoth since he’d had an injury not unlike Seth’s own.
“We call him Lucky now. Lucky, why don’t you step into the bathroom and switch into your wrestling uniform?” With one hand Vince picked up Sheamus’ bag and wrapped his other around the slim of his waste. Sheamus could have easily carried it himself or found the bathroom in the small room but Vince loved showing these former monsters of muscle just how small and weak they’d become. 
After a few minutes the new “Lucky” walked out of the bathroom. It was obviously a leprachaun play on the wrestler’s Irish heritage that fit a lot better now that he’d lost over a foot in height. Lucky’s costume had a small little leprachaun hat with an emerald green bowtie. The sparkly green booty shorts rode up showing off the amazing pair of globes on Sheamus’ new body. Sheamus turned around and touched his toes, showing off the glittery gold “LUCKY” that was written across his rear. Seth was used to wrestler’s not wearing much, a pair of black trunks was Sheamus’ old outfit, but this little Leprachaun costume was so much more demeaning...more sexual. Seth had to admit, Sheamus did look pretty sexy standing there, though. Part of him wanted to tear those shorts off and help Sheamus get lucky. But he was realizing a bigger part wanted the old Sheamus to do the same to him. 
“We’ve already got athletes lined up to join the program, some pretty big A-Listers who don’t know the exact side effects that come along with our procedure. But until they are ready we think that you and Lucky will be our head line act. And don’t worry, we’ll still have theme matches like in the WWE. Maybe not table ladder chair matches, but I’m sure tag team will still be popular. Maybe something with oil.” Vince said, his mouth watering while looking at Sheamus who still had not broken his toe touching pose. “Sorry, I trailed off. We will need a new outfit for you. A new stage name if you’d like. I am actually prone to you staying Seth Rollins. And I always loved your leather get up, we could definitely still work with that in this new ring. Maybe a leather fishnet combo.”
Shit. Everything was spiraling so quickly. Seth just needed to breathe. He needed to be away from everyone. “When can I go home?”  
“We find it best if people aren’t alone right after the procedure,” the male nurse said, “There are a lot of things that are going to be different for you now and it’s best to have someone there with you”
“I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Not right now. I can’t deal with”
McMahon interupted him, “You’re alright. We have already set up accomdations for you. Go get dressed your new roommate is waiting out in the lobby for you.”
*******************************************************************************************
The clothe’s Mr. McMahon provided were embarassing as helll but none of Seth’s clothes fit anymore and he didn’t want to keep walking around with his giant new ass jiggling in the wind so it was that or nothing. So there Seth was in a light pink crop top that showed off just how slim his arms and stomach were now. The leather leggings he was wearing reminded him of his normal wrestling attire, albeit they used to bulge more in the front and a heall of a lot less in the back. The only solice he had was that the lacey pink panties were skimpy enough that the leather pants hid them perfectly. 
“Damn that ass looks good,” Seth heard a man say, his voice low and sultry. As he turned around to hear the voice a hand spanks his ass hard, “That jiggle, too! I am so glad I volunteered for this.”
There stood Dean Ambrose. Now a foot taller than Seth and a hundred pounds heavier. Everyone looked big to Seth now, but this was the first time he felt truly intimidated by another man. “Let’s you and me get home Sethy, there’s some things I want to show. I’m pretty minimilistic so I do only have the one bed, but I don’t think you’ll mind sharing, will ya bud?”
“No,” Seth said, drooling as he looked up at he muscular man in front of him. 
“Arlight, nice. Once we settle in, you can meet some of your new competition."
37 notes · View notes
readbeneaththelines · 4 years
Text
The Bough That Broke Pt. 2
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Synopsis: Jin is injured from an avoidable accident, leaving him partially paralyzed from the waist down. Reader is the nurse that is hired to take care of him once he gets back to the dorms and begins the physically and emotionally painful road to recovery. Will she have what it takes to spark determination in him to get back on the stage?
Characters: Idol!Jin x Nurse!Reader
Genre: Whump, Angst, Itty Bittyamount of crack, itty bitty amount of fluff, maybeeeeeee some smut
Warnings: First few chapters are rough, starting out of the gate with the Angst and Whump. I’m sorry!!! Don’t hate me for hurting Jin…. pretty please!!I promise to make him all better in the end!
Word Count: 5280
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Each Chapter will get its own warnings. If anything is a trigger, please read at your own discretion
cr to gif owner
The clock on the wall had just struck one a.m. when a tired looking nurse entered the room. Yoongi was first to his feet, the remenants of his anger still present. Jimin’s hand still clung to Yoongi’s, as if to ground him. 
“We have him stable. He is being taken into surgery as we speak.” 
“Surgery? For what? Please just tell us what’s going on.” Jungkook pleads.
“MRI showed two shattered vertebrae at his L4 and L5. the vertebrae below those are damaged as well. We don’t know the extent of the damage until we get him under.” She looked to Namjoon who was now at his feet, hands holding him up on the small table.
“Is he? Is he going to be able to?” he couldn’t bring himself to say the word.
“I can’t answer that, I’m sorry. We will know more once the surgeon sees what he is facing. We will keep you informed throughout the surgery. Please try to rest, it’s going to be a long night.” 
She left them alone, promising to fill them in as soon as possible. The six of them sat around the table, heads bowed and shoulders slumped.  Occasionally, one would nod off, head hitting the table with a thump, or falling on another’s shoulder.  
Four a.m.. Three hours and no news. Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok were strongly, take that as forcefully ordered, to return to the hotel for some much needed sleep. Taehyung, Yoongi and Namjoon stayed behind, awaiting any bit of an update. 
Five a.m. The nurse rapped lightly on the closed door, startling Taehyung from a fitful slumber. Shaking Yoongi and Namjoon awake, they focused their attention on the door.
“Come in” Namjoon’s voice was hoarse from lack of sleep. 
It was the same nurse who had been with Jin since his arrival. She sat down at one of the empty chairs, hands resting on her lap. That was not a good sign as far as Namjoon was concerned. Yoongi scooted closer to Taehyung, all of their shoulders touching as they waited for someone to speak up first.
“We are waiting on the surgeon to join us. Your friend’s surgery just finished a short bit ago. Dr. Jo is the top in his field.” There was another knock at the door, a tall man, looking to be in his early forties, came in. He was still in his scrubs, cap still on his head.
He shook each of their hands, asking them to sit down so he could explain what was going on. 
“I first want to tell you that your friend is stable. He is on a ventilator only for preventative measures. Hopefully he will come off of that in a few days. That is to make sure he doesn’t develop pneumonia while being immobile. The location of his spinal injury is in his lumbar region, which is his mid-back area. Two of his vertebrae were nearly completely crushed. We were able to remove the bone fragments and stabilize his spinal column. There are a plates and screws holding the vertebrae both above and below the injury. Our primary concern now is to keep swelling at a minimum as he faces the next twenty-four and forty-eight hours. We will not know if there is any permanent paralysis for at least a few weeks, until the swelling has completely diminished. There was a small injury to his head, but nothing serious. He will be closely watched for any secondary complications. The rest is up to him at this point. He seemed to be in very good health otherwise,which is a plus in his favor for healing. He will be transferred to the ICU unit where we can keep a close eye on him. I suggest you go back to your hotel and get some sleep. You can come back tomorrow and check on him.” 
Namjoon thanked the surgeon and the nurse. Once they left, he turned to his fellow members, tears streaming down his cheeks. Taehyung embraced him, Yoongi joining as they finally let themselves cave after trying to hold themselves together.
By the time they arrived back at the hotel, their feet were dragging, and they had no more tears left to cry. They relayed the information to the other three before collapsed onto their beds. 
Hoseok had been busy after they returned to the hotel. Making phone calls, researching the setup crew, anything and everything he could do to uncover what had happened. His last call was to the crew manager. 
"There were two young women who showed up early that morning. Said they were from the local staffing company. They had credentials and proof of employment. I handed them over to Jongdae. He can tell you where he placed them." 
"I had them help with lighting. They were eager to assist, told me they had experience with lighting and set up." Jongdae gave Hoseok their names and company they worked for. 
Hoseok waited until Namjoon awoke later that afternoon before sharing what he had gathered through his phone calls. He recalled the two young ladies that had approached them before the concert and wished them good luck. “That had to be them, Joon. They sabotaged the set! I’m going to fucking kill them, Joon, I swear!”
Namjoon wrapped his arms around Hoseok, the younger man falling to the floor in a sobbing heap. “He’s going to come back to us Hobi, we have to believe that.” He rocked his friend until he was calm, helping him to his feet as they walked to Yoongi and Jungkook’s room.
“Guys we have to get packed up. They will be here soon to take us back to the dorms.” Namjoon announced to everyone.
“We can’t leave Jin here. He needs us. We need to be there for him when he wakes up.” Jimin was nearly screaming, and Hobi had to set him straight before they received any complaints.
“We will all take turns coming to stay with him. He will never be alone, I promise. We can take rotation, going in groups of two. Now get going, gather your things and meet me downstairs in thirty.” He left the room, leaving the remaining five to set the visitation schedule. Thirty minutes later, they were piling into the van, Yoongi and Hoseok taking first rounds of staying behind. Namjoon told them he would be back later tomorrow, after filling everyone in on the events that had transpired. The ride back was long and tedious. Namjoon was on the phone the entire trip, talking with police and the company that the two girls had given as their place of employment. 
The moment they arrived back at BigHit, Namjoon and Jungkook were at the offices. They met with detectives, gave heir barely remembered descriptions of the girls, and set about discussing their schedules.
“We are not doing anything until we know that Jin is out of the woods.” It was agreed that they could adjust their schedules to accommodate staying with Jin at the hospital. When they returned to the dorms, Taehyung was pacing the floor, nails bitten to the quick. As soon as he heard the door open, he was running to greet them. He was to wired to sit still as everyone talked over the other, passing along the latest information on the two girls and that investigation. Just as they were about to turn in for the night, Namjoon’s phone rang. They circled around as he put it on speaker. 
“It’s Yoongi. I just wanted to give you an update. He is sleeping. They tested his nerve responses, and-” The choked sob had Namjoon sinking into a chair. 
“Joon? They didn’t get a positive response. They said it could be temporary. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“I’m getting ready to leave soon. I want one of you to come back and get rested up. They need one of you here, to be their support system.” Namjoon, hung up, rising from the seat with effort. He headed to his room without a word and packed a small overnight bag. After making sure that the others were settled and comfortable, he called for a driver. Pulling his face mask up and pulling the ball cap down just above his eyes, he headed out the door and for the two hour ride back to Jin. 
When he arrived, Yoongi and Hoseok met him in the private conference room once again. They gathered around, Hoseok filling Namjoon in on everything from the night before.
“He isn’t our Jin, right now. He is puffy and covered in bandages and tubes. I thought I was looking at a robot, not Jin. I’m really scared for him Joon. What if- What if he never gets to walk again?” 
Namjoon shook his head at Hoseok’s words. He wasn’t going to accept a fate for Jin where he would never walk again, never set foot on another stage. He made a silent vow, that he would do whatever it took to have his hyung next to him, singing his heart out. He told Hoseok and Yoongi to go home and rest, and that Taehyung would be by later to stay with him. They hugged, and left Namjoon alone with his thoughts. 
Next round of visitation was approaching, and Namjoon was let in through the staff entrance. He stood outside Jin’s room, willing himself to steady his nerves and think positively. His hand reached for the handle, pushing it open as quietly as possible. His eyes lifted up, and what was before him broke his heart and filled his eyes with tears he thought he no longer could release.
Jin was lying so very still, wires and tubes coming from  every direction. His head was bandaged, his neck still supported in a brace, and machines beeping and humming. His chest rose and fell with a smoothness, too automated to be natural. His face was swollen, as were his hands. Namjoon, reached down, taking two puffy fingers in his hand and wept. This truly wasn’t the Jin he remembered, and he longed to see Jin’s smile more than anything. 
“I’m here Jin. We are trying to find who is responsible for all of this, and we will bring them to justice for you. Just rest now, get better. You will be on that stage again, standing with your brothers, singing like you’ve never sang before. We will walk with you every step of the way. We will be your strength and your encouragement. We aren’t BTS if you are not with us, you make us whole.” He kept Jin’s fingers in his hand as he sat down beside him, taking the few precious moments to watch his friend, his brother, sleep and recover. When his time was up, he headed back to the private waiting area, pulling out his phone and texting the group. 
He is resting. Please give him encouragement today whenever you think of him.
Send him all the positive energy you can muster. Rest today brothers, sleep and eat well.
After hitting send, he leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes for a moment of peace and reflection. The door opening roused him from his thoughts, and he gave a weak smile to Taehyung as he walked in. He explained how Jin looked, not wanting Taehyung to be shocked when next visitation came around. It still wasn’t enough of a warning. Taehyung entered the room at the next visit, only to take one look at jin and leave. Namjoon, found him sitting in the private meeting room curled into himself in  the far corner. 
“I know it’s hard to see him right now, but remember, most of that is just very temporary. They just want him to be comfortable and still while he recovers. He needs to know that we are here for him.”
“I can’t, hyung! I can’t see him like that, and not feel helpless. I’m sorry, but it’s just too difficult right now.” Taehyung looked up at Namjoon, cheeks damp and eyes still spilling over with tears. Namjoon felt helpless himself, but he had to be strong for his members. If they saw him crumble under the weight he now carried, he knew he would fail them as a leader. 
The next two days were a whirlwind of rotating visits and drifting through the time of wait and see. By the fourth day, they had started weaning Jin from the medically induced coma and the ventilator. It was a slow process, but the others were anxious to see him open his eyes for the first time since the accident. 
They had gathered around the meeting room table, eating lunch, when a nurse cracked the door open, peeking her head around the edge. They snapped their heads up, a look of fear carved on each face. They were never disturbed, unless it was something serious. 
“Which one of you is Kim Namjoon?” she asked softly, a kind smile on her face. 
Namjoon raised his hand then stood.
“That would be me. May I help you?” he scanned over the others giving them a hopeful glance. 
“Yes sir. I just wanted to let you know that your friend is coming out of the coma and is starting to wake up. His vent was removed just a few minutes ago and he is breathing on his own. If you would like a few of you at a time can come and see him.” She told them where to go, and they decided that Namjoon and Yoongi should go visit him first. The rest were too nervous and afraid of scaring or overwhelming him. 
Yoongi stood behind Namjoon as the door was opened. There on the bed was a very scared and groggy Jin. His eyes flashed in their direction, eyes going wide as he took in their expressions. As hard a Namjoon tried to hide his concern, Jin was able to read him like a book.  When he spoke, it was barely audible, scratchy and hoarse.
“Joon? What-” Namjoon hushed him while Yoongi came from behind him as stood next to Jin’s bed. He placed his hand over Jin’s, giving it a tender but firm squeeze. Jin gazed at his friends, worry etching the corners of his eyes and forehead.
“Don’t try to talk. You’ve been through a lot, so just try to rest. We will tell you everything when your feeling up to it.” Yoongi tried to easy Jin’s worry, but Jin was having none if it. He shook his head, wincing at the throbbing pain from the movements. 
“Why? Why can’t I feel my legs? Joon? Yoongi? Please.” Jin was beginning to panic, and Namjoon had to tamper the rising fear quickly. 
“It’s just temporary. Do you remember anything? There was an accident. But your alive and getting better, That’s all that matters right now. The others will come see you when you are a bit more alert and rested. Just try to get some sleep. Worrying isn’t healthy for you right now. Besides you have nothing to worry about at the moment, except recovering and getting back home.” He smiled at Jin, hoping it was good enough to reassure his hyung. Jin nodded, then closed his eyes. Just as Yoongi was about to let go of his hands, Jin gripped it firmly, not letting go.
“Don’t leave me.” he pleaded.
“Jin, hyung, we can’t stay for long, but one of us will be back in later to visit. Now go back to sleep. You’re in good hands.” He let his hand slip from Jin’s grip and left. Namjoon told him to sleep and followed Yoongi out the door. 
As soon as they were out the door, Jin let out everything he had been holding in. He was scared. He didn’t remember what happened, didn’t know where he was, and was terrified that he couldn’t feel anything from the waist down. He silently cried himself to sleep, only waking when Hoseok and Jimin entered two hours later for the next round of visits. Hoseok had Jin smiling, telling him some of his own dad jokes. It was a relief to see him smile, and Taehyung knew at that moment, that no matter what, Jin was going to be okay and they would be there on his journey. 
Later that evening, the six of them were granted permission to visit Jin together. His eyes lit up when they all filed in through the door, one after the other. He pushed his hands against the mattress, wanting to sit up, forgetting the dead weight and brace that hindered him. His head turned away, letting it shake back and forth in defeat. Jungkook and Jimin stood on either side of him, grabbing the small sheet underneath Jin. They easily scooted him back to the head of the bed, straightening the pillows around him once he was comfortable. 
“I hate this damn brace. I can’t sit up, I can’t move. This is not living, this is being a prisoner in your own body.” Clenching a fist, he slammed it against the bedrails, startling Namjoon who was sitting beside him. 
“I know it’s hard right now Jin, but you’ll be out of it soon, I pro-” Jin cut him short.
“Don’t promise me something that you can’t back up, Joon! Not one of you have told me anything about what happened. All the nurses and doctors tell me is that I was in an accident and injured my back. So someone better fucking tell me what the hell happened that I am stuck in the foresaken place, flat on my back, and paralysed!” His face was red, voice raised enough to have a nurse rushing in to check if everything was okay. Namjoon nodded to Hoseook who stepped back out with the nurse.
“Do you think you’re ready to know what happened? Do you want to know, deep down, everything we know?” Namjoon looked back to Jin as he spoke, his tone stern and demanding. Jin let his gaze settle on his leader, a small nod telling him to continue.
“What do you last remember? Do you even remember the concert?” Jin told him the last thing he remembered was getting ready for his solo. 
“You were performing your solo, the part where you walk out to the front of the stage. The lighting fixture had been improperly set up, the support beam wasn’t bolted in place. There were some females who weaseled their way into stage set up, just to get close to us. We are searching for them now. The beam and light fell on you, and that is why you’re in here now. You had surgery on your back to repair damaged vertebrae and plates, rods, and screws are holding you together right now. The paralysis could be temporary. Or.” Namjoon could not bring himself to finish.
“Or permanent.” Jin concluded. Namjoon just bowed his head. “Well, I refuse to let this be permanent. Look at me Joon. This is not going to be that. I will be back on my feet again.” Jin was determined and it showed in his features. His jaw was set, eyes focused. 
Each of them agreed with Jin, wether just to encourage or real believing it, but Jin needed to hear their positive words. One by one, they left, until it was just Jimin and Jungkook. 
“Can I tell you something?” Jin chimed in before they walked out.
“Sure, anything. What’s up?” Jimin turned to walk back to Jin’s bed. Sitting in the chair beside the bed, he scooted closer. Jin’s hand searched out for Jimin’s, then Jungkook’s. Taking both of their hands in his he looked between them before swallowing hard and choking back tears.
“Don’t let them get discouraged, okay. But I’m scared, really scared. I have lost almost a week and I’m afraid that I will never walk again, let alone leave my bed. Don’t say anything to Namjoon, promise me.” Jimin wiped away his tears before nodding. 
“We won’t, promise.” 
“Good, now go away and sleep, you all look like shit. I don’t want to see you all until tomorrow. “ Jin gave a weak grin before shooing them out the door. When he was finally alone, sure that they were out of ear shot, he gave his heart permission to let out the anger, fear, and hatred. He screamed, cried, cursed the heavens and hell. His nurse came rushing back in, making sure he was okay before she went to get him something to help him relax and sleep. 
Sleep, the only escape from this hell he was living. 
(Three Weeks Later)
Jin was now allowed to sit up, but still had to wear the brace. He was trying to gain some of his weight back, now that he was allowed to eat regular food that the others snuck in for him. He was starting light therapy. Building back his upper body strength. He had regained some feeling in his legs, but not enough to hold his bodyweight upright. He had hard days, and nights. But through every day, one of members were by his side, encouraging, learning this therapy, taking his mind off his frustration as much as possible. It was during one of these therapy sessions that he was informed of the preparations to send him home with home health. The hospital’s home health staff would be meeting with them all later that evening, once everyone came for their nightly visits. 
“You’ll get the best care when you get home Mr. Kim. The staff is amazing and their main goal is to get you back on your feet. You’ll get to meet those who will be working with you before you get home. They will tour your home and make any needed arrangements first.” Jin’s mind was flooded with this new information. How would he do once he was back at the dorm? The changes that would need to be made would throw chaos into the mix.
Evening rounds were being made, and Jin had mentioned meeting with home health. They handed Jin the take out bag, even handing him the soda that Taehyung pretended was his. Jin scarfed it down, relishing in the juicy burger and fries. 
“So, they are getting you ready to go home? That’s great news, Jin. That means your getting better every day.” Yoongi tousled his hair, earning a mock glare from his hyung. 
“Yeah, I suppose. I’m just know that there are going to be changes made, like moving furniture, adding a ramp and other things. I will have to move rooms too.” he sighed as he thought of all that was about to happen because of him.
“Actually we already moved rooms. You have the one closest to the bathroom and with the most space. We moved furniture around already too. The staff is coming tomorrow to see what else may need to be done.” Jungkook slyly smiled at his friend, knowing that he had given up his room for Jin. He didn’t mind, but wanted to ensure Jin that he was perfectly fine with it. Just as Jin finished his food, the home health staff came in. There was physical therapy, occupational therapy, case manager, and you, his new nurse. Each staff member introduced themselves, leaving you for last. You sat on the side of his bed, a bright happy grin on your face. You extended your hand to the other six before turning to the side and greeting Jin.
“Hello Mr. Kim, my name is Y/N. I am going to be your new favorite person and your newest enemy.” Jin cocked an eyebrow at your statement, which had you hurrying to clarify.
“What I mean by that is this. You will be seeing me every day. Even when you don’t want to. My job is not to see you only when you feel like it. I am there to make sure that your therapy is going as it should, and that your pain is managed, with precise strictness, and to help you with some of the therapy. You will be seeing a lot of me. Twelve hours a day to be precise. So wether you like me or not, I am going to do my best to get you back on your feet and walking again with the help of these other staff members. And as far as you all are concerned, I’m not just here for Jin, I am here to help you guys with this transition too. If you ever have any concerns or questions,I will do my best to help. So, do you have any questions for us?” 
Jin was looking at you with a blank expression. You were cute and chipper and all, but twelve hours a day? He could barely stay awake half the day as it was. How was he going to tolerate some chipper, always happy and smiling person making him do things he didn’t want to do? 
“Twelve hours? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Everyone looked at Jin, who was seriously looking like he was shocked that you were planning on that much time, each day.
“Yes, twelve. We will tour your place tomorrow morning, and start getting you ready to go home. It was nice meeting you all, I look forward to working with you.” You shook Jin’s hand, then bowed as you left them alone. 
“Guys, I don’t know about this. Isn’t it too early for me to be going home yet? I mean, I can’t even get out of bed by myself, or even. You know. Go to the bathroom without help. And besides, I don’t want some female seeing me, well, undressed. Can’t we get a male nurse at least?” He shrugged at the look Namjoon gave him. 
“I have met the staff already, and she is the best from what they’ve told me. She takes her job very seriously, and she only takes select cases, private duty cases. She has worked with some of the most elite and famous people. She has security clearance and everything. You have the top of the top on your case, Jin. Trust her and at least give her a chance, okay.” Jin agreed, reluctantly, and the conversation drifted to other things. 
The day had finally come that Jin would be going home. You came to his room early, paperwork in hand. You pulled the chair up beside his bed, setting the papers on the small table. 
“Now, let’s see what you can do. Physical therapy is on their way and we are going to get you up in this chair so you can sign paperwork.” You removed your badge and set it at the foot of the bed. Jack from physical therapy entered, a long board and woven belt in hand.  He handed you the belt which you wrapped around jin’s waist, securing it in the front. He watched you, curious why Jack wasn’t getting him ready instead.
“Umm, isn’t Jack going to get me up?” You laughed, but quickly recovered when you saw his surprised look.
“I’m going to be the one doing most of the lifting with you. Are you afraid I can’t do it? Let me get one thing clear, Mr. Kim. I may be smaller than you, but I have lifted men twice your size with ease. You just have to trust me. I am not going to let anything happen to you, as long as you are working with me and not against me.” That being said, you reached around his waist, gathering the belt in your hands. Telling him to lean his upper body towards you, you maneuvered his feet into place with your own foot. Once he was in place, you rocked back twice, lifting him off the bed with the third rock. You skillfully and carefully turned him and lowered him gently to the chair. Straightening up, you smiled down at him.
“See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” 
Jin huffed, looking to you, then to Jack, as if to question if it was. Jack chuckled under his breath, giving you a wink. 
"I told you, she's the best. Next time though, don’t fight against her. Lean into her, not away." Jack explained how body mechanics play a huge role in staying safe. 
After finishing the paperwork for his release, Jin asked to stay in the chair for a bit. " It's nice to be upright for once." You agreed to give him fifteen minutes if he could tolerate it.
"Don't overdo it. The minute you start to hurt or get uncomfortable let me know. You may have some feeling, but you're still at a great risk for problems." You plumped the pillow behind his back, then took a seat on the side of his bed, clipboard in hand. "So tell me a bit about yourself, your likes, your goals, anything that will help me to get to know you and understand you better." 
Jack was working on stretching Jin's legs, keeping them limber and loose. Jin, in the meantime, was finding it very difficult to focus on the question while his legs were being manipulated into near inhuman positions. 
"Ma'am, I'm having a time trying to concentrate on what he's doing, let alone answer questions that you can easily find out from the others. Not trying to be rude or anything, but could one of you wait until the other is finished?" You could tell Jin was becoming agitated. His scrunched facial expressions, the grip his hands had on the chair's armrests. He was reaching his point of exasperation, and you needed to defuse his ticking time bomb before it blew. 
"Why don't we stop then for today, and start again tomorrow back at the dorm. I'll get him to help me get you back in bed, and then we can turn in the papers and get you out of here." You and Jack got him situated back in the bed, pillows stuffed and fluffed like a nest around him. The content look on his face was enough to tell you he had already had a long day, and it has only started. You saw Jack out, turning back to Jin, only to find him already asleep.
"You’re going to be a tough one Mr. Kim, but we will get you back on your feet. You have my word on that." You left, turning the light off and shutting the door behind you. Sitting at the nurses desk, you pulled Jin’s chart from the rack. You wanted to get things moving quickly, your gut telling you that once he was home, his true demeanor would emerge and his facade would falter. You needed to see who he was deep inside. The drive that would emerge, once he admitted to his new limitations, hinged on him accepting them first.
It was always the same, with each patient you worked with. They would have a honeymoon mentality of their predicament, think that it was only going to be a few days, weeks at most, before they were back on their feet. The sooner you got them to the point of recognizing that it wasn’t going to be easy, and that there were going to be struggles and realities that they didn’t want to face, the sooner they could truly begin to heal and make strides in their recovery. You had seen it hundreds of times, and you would see it a hundred more. Sighing, you placed the papers he had signed into his chart, closing it with a loud thud.
 @beautifulseoulliar  @astronomyturtle @aspaceformyself @dreamyoongi @holy-yoongi @trashkazuya @maxinaptak @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570
@seoulsunshineandstories @kwonnansi @xjamlessparkx @berryjam17
@kingsuckjin @flora-jimin
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Nightmare
Captain America!Bucky Barnes  Winter Soldier!Steve Rogers
He tossed and turned for most of the night, too afraid to truly fall back into a deep slumber, lest he succumb to the nightmares once more.  They plagued his mind more often than not, running rampant while he struggled to get the sleep he desperately needed.
a/n:pics are not mine!(if anyone knows who edited the Bucky pic tag them so i can!) warnings:violence, gore, brainwashed Steve Rogers, death
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If you’d asked Bucky what his least favorite memory was, it would be the day he gained the super soldier serum.  Now that wasn’t to say he was ungrateful because of it, it just made things more difficult than they needed to be.  From being stronger than any man or woman that roamed the streets, to people recognizing him almost instantly.  It was the unwanted attention he mostly hated, seeing how often people seeing him for his body, rather than the person inside.
The only reason he’d even joined the army was because of his best friend, Steve Rogers.  He’d gotten drafted only six months after the war had begun, barely twenty-one years old.  He was tall, standing at nearly six foot, lean muscles that he’d gained from working at the docks after his mother passed away.  Bucky had been envious of him, he was slightly shorter, standing at just under 5’9”.  It wasn’t until after he’d gotten the serum that everything seemed to shift, he was taller, significantly, and much broader and wider.
Steve had barely been able to recognize him, his entire platoon had been captured, held in cages like animals.  Things began to shift suddenly, Bucky had noticed subtle differences in his friends' eyes when they would talk, the way they seemed so dull now.  He’d barely even glanced at Agent Carter when she came to talk to Bucky, nodding slowly as she gave the details of a recon mission.
The day Bucky would lose Steve forever.
He’d reached for him, fingers grazing along the metal pole as he struggled to catch his best friend from falling down into the ravine below.  His screams echoing as he watched his life flash before his eyes.  Bucky no longer cared who was in his way anymore, taking down anyone that stood in his path of rage.
Nothing would ever be the same, Bucky wouldn’t get to live his life with his best friend by his side.  Everything felt wrong now.
~~~~ 2013 Bucky watched as everyone in the room began to argue, from Tony, to Fury who looked annoyed with everyone’s shit.  All he wanted to do was go back to his apartment and relax, catch up on the last near seventy years worth of life he’d missed out on.  He wanted Steve here more than anything.
The fight was intense, nearly killing everyone before it was finally over, a calm settling over them as they watched the skies clear.  A weight had lifted off his chest, almost as if he could breathe easier for a little while.  Until the rest of the team left him behind to go be together, gathering around a table that could barely fit them all.  Bucky had known when he wasn’t wanted, had known his entire life.  But to witness it so blatantly, it hurt just that much more.
So he did what he felt best, hid himself away from the rest of the world, only coming out to go on missions whenever Fury asked.  No one else accompanied him, except for the Shield agents that were assigned to the mission as well.  They didn’t make conversation with him, keeping a distance that felt safe.  Bucky preferred it, if anyone were to ask he’d rather no one ever spoke to him again.  Loneliness was better than the pity stares he got from the rest of the team.
2019
And then he met Sam Wilson, the man who turned the world on its head when he had nowhere else to go.  He made Bucky feel safe, a warmth blooming in his chest he hadn’t felt for over seventy years.
“How’s life been treating you since you came back?” Sam was sitting across from him after a meeting at the VA.
“The same as before, I’m still their puppet, only coming out to do their bidding when it needs to be done.” Bucky was ready to hang up the shield, make a life for himself that he wasn’t allowed to have.
Sam wasn’t blind to how Bucky felt, how horrifically he’d been treated after coming out of the ice.  From the ‘adoring’ fans, to the hate he’d received from anyone who thought he didn’t deserve to hold his title.  The very man who’d helped take down an entire army by himself, didn’t deserve to be labeled Captain America.
“You ever think about retiring?” Sam had asked that question more times than Bucky could count, it never changed his answer.
“The world would fall to shit without me now, how many wars were there after I went into the ice?” Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes.
They’d fought two wars, and only won one of them.  There was no way he could sit back while innocent people lost their lives for a ridiculous cause.  Sam had fought in the war they’d been fighting for years, longer than anyone before.  He’d lost someone close to him, and Bucky refused to let anyone else lose someone they needed.
“They’re wrong about you, you know.” Sam leaned forward, resting his forearms against the large oak desk.
“It doesn’t matter what they think of me Sam, I put on the suit and do what needs to be done.” Even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.
Sam didn’t say anything for a few moments, letting his words sink into the air that surrounded them.  He wanted to tell Bucky he was wrong, that there were people who cared about him, but this was a man who’d made up his mind a while ago.  He wasn’t Bucky Barnes anymore, no, once he’d gotten the serum he’d become Captain America.
“Did you ever have someone?  Back before you crashed the plane?” That was a question he hadn’t gotten before, he’d always claimed he was alone for most of his life.
Which was true, except for one person who had caught his eye when he was too young to even know what love was.  His mother had seen it before even he had, the horror that crossed her features when she realized whom her son was in love with.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t able to tell them before it was too late.  It doesn’t matter anyhow.” The pain pulled at Bucky’s heart, reminding him of how alone he truly was.
“They got a name?” Sam knew not to push, Bucky had a lot of secrets, and this was one of his biggest.
“Steve.” Bucky had come to terms with the truth, knowing that the one person he’d fallen in love with, had died in front of his eyes.
It was a recurring nightmare he had almost daily, watching Steve die, or being the one to fall from the train while Steve screamed his name.  Something that would haunt him for the rest of his days, as limited as they could be.
“Rogers, they wrote about him in the history books, alongside you of course.” That was one of the first things Bucky had done after he’d woken up.
They weren’t kind to him in the textbooks, tarnishing his name as if he were a criminal rather than a war hero.
“I didn’t want to be Captain America, not after I saw how it affected everyone around me.  I was ready to give up the suit before I even knew how to handle it.” His family were gone, nothing but memories he’d hold onto forever.
“They needed you, you saved more lives than anyone in history by crashing that plane.  What about the other Avengers?” Bucky grimaced at the mere mention of them, arms crossed over his chest.
“They look at me the same way everyone else does, as if I’m some kind of freak.” 
Bucky had kept the arm hidden from everyone for a while.  It’d happened during a freak accident, they were unable to repair his arm, leading to the one that had been made for him.  It was too heavy, pulling against the skin of his shoulder every moment he was awake.  Howard had made it for him, alongside the shield he had in his apartment.
“It’s a prosthetic, tons of people have them now, why is yours any different?” Sam, always the wise guy.
“Mine was made back when Nazis were still around, I’m one of the strongest people in the world with this alone.” Sam seemed to take that into consideration, as if what he was saying was new.
“That’s just ridiculous, they got exactly what they wanted, and now they’re upset because you’re not a puppet anymore.” Bucky raised a brow at the other man, it hit too close to home.
Sam was right though, the day Bucky stopped playing by everyone else’s rules, it seemed almost glaringly obvious that he wasn’t treated the same anymore.
He left the meeting feeling slightly better, the weight of the word still resting against his shoulders as he stepped into his apartment.  His cat, Alpine, had made himself comfortable on the recliner nearby the window.  He’d make it up to him next time he ran to the store, get him the wet food he really liked.
The light was filtering in from the windows, giving the room a somber glow as he took in the various articles he’d framed.  From back when he’d first gotten the shield, to the most recent one where he’d accompanied Tony to a gala, god that was a nightmare.  The snotty guests that turned their noses up at him, acting as if he was a waiter instead of a guest.
“Steve, it’s too much of a risk, I can’t do that to you.” Bucky stared at the blonde, gauging his reaction.
“I’m not gonna let you go alone Buck, you’re my best friend.” Steve slapped a hand against Bucky’s shoulder, igniting a fiery pain across his back.
They’d only just put the arm on, throwing him into physical therapy before he could even stand up properly on his own.  He needed to keep Steve safe, no matter how much it took of him, even if it meant he’d get discharged from the army.
The lights around him dimmed, a sharp gust of wind whipping harshly against his face, it felt as if knives were cutting into his skin.
“Why’d you let me fall Buck?  All you had to do was hold on, you let me die.” Steve’s body was littered with cuts, blood staining the dark green uniform.
“I didn’t let you fall, I swear!” Bucky reached towards him, hands falling just short of where he stood.
“It’s all your fault, you let me die in that ravine.” Blood began to pour down his arms and legs, staining the ground in crimson.
“No!” Bucky lunged forward in the bed, sweat dripping down his chest as he struggled to take in his surroundings.
The clock on his bedside table, one of Alpine’s beds on the floor, a pair of boots near the door, a masked man standing in the doorway.
Sighing softly, Bucky laid back against the bed, the fear suddenly locking him in place as he glanced back towards the empty doorway.
“It was just a nightmare, nothing more.” Though his heart rate refused to slow down, beating erratically as he slowly took in the items surrounding him.
He tossed and turned for most of the night, too afraid to truly fall back into a deep slumber, lest he succumb to the nightmares once more.  They plagued his mind more often than not, running rampant while he struggled to get the sleep he desperately needed.
“What’s another hour lost?  Not like I’ll be able to get it back anyway.” Bucky roughly pushed the plush comforter off his body, throwing his legs off the side of the bed.
He’d been losing sleep for the last few months, unsure of what was causing him to have such vivid nightmares.  It felt as if he was back there, on the train with his best friend, the man he was in love with.  Steve was none the wiser though, looking around for a woman to warm his bed almost every night.  Where was Bucky in all this?  Pushed aside like some piece of trash as if he meant nothing?  
The only time he ever truly mattered was back after he’d gotten the serum, taking down enemy soldiers with a simple flick of the wrist, it was all too easy.  There were so many good people by his side, and now they were all gone, lived lives of their own.  If only Bucky hadn’t been selfish, had made Steve return home so he could also live a happy life.
Shield had issued him a therapist after he’d come out of the ice, though, Bucky refused to ever speak to anyone.  They wouldn’t be able to understand what he’d lost, how he’d been ripped out of his own time, and forced to become a soldier once more.  It was why he was thankful for Sam, he helped tame the demons that Bucky kept hidden.
“I’ve been having dreams about Steve again, they all end the same though.” Bucky wrung his hands together, metal and flesh alike.
“Blaming you for him falling off the train that day?” Bucky could only nod, Sam hummed softly, writing down the notes quickly.
Bucky hadn’t been able to stop himself the first time he told Sam about the nightmares, how they were tearing him apart.  He just wanted to relax for one night, to be free of all his worries.
Which is how he found himself staring down a man he never thought he’d ever expect to see again.  He didn’t look like himself though, from the beard that covered his face, to how dark his hair looked.  There was no doubt though, the man staring back at Bucky was none other than Steve Rogers.
“Steve?” Bucky’s whisper sounded broken, tears sliding down his cheeks as he stumbled towards the brunette.  
When had he lost the blonde?  And how the hell was he even alive!?  Bucky watched him fall to his death!
“They warned me about you, said you’d try and use your tactics against me.” Steve’s shoulders were stiff, stance strong as he stared down the other man.
“Steve, you’re my best friend.” Bucky kept his grip tight on the shield, eyes never leaving the other man. “I won’t fall for your tricks, Captain.” Steve’s voice was like ice, cutting into Bucky’s skin.
They stalked one another, as if the other was prey.  Bucky wasn’t sure what to anticipate with this new version of Steve, someone he didn’t recognize at all.  This wasn’t the man he’d fallen in love with back in the 40’s, the person he’d called his best friend.
“You’re my mission.” Steve lunged towards the other man, landing a rough hit to the shield Bucky held up to cover his body.
“Your name, is Steven Grant Rogers!” Bucky pushed back with the shield, teeth grinding together.
He was going to get himself killed, Steve was a lot stronger than he last remembered, and right now was proving just that.
They were equally matched, neither able to land a solid hit without the other blocking each kick, or punch.  Until Steve managed to wrench the shield from Bucky’s hands, throwing it too far for him to be able to reach.  Realization washed over Bucky suddenly, unless he was able to get the shield back, Steve would be able to do more damage.
His horror became a reality, as Steve drove a knife deep into his stomach, driving it in until the handle was pressed flush to his ribs.  He grabbed onto Steve’s arm, blood coating his tongue as he struggled to catch his breath.
“Bucky!” Sam’s voice echoed through the comm as he flew down, landing barely ten feet away before sprinting over to Bucky.
Steve pulled the blade out, letting Bucky drop to the ground, blood soaking his uniform.  This was how his life was going to end, taken by the very person he’d called a friend so long ago.
“Buck, I need you to try and stay awake for me.” Sam dropped down beside him, pressing down against the wound that hadn’t stopped bleeding.
Why hadn’t his body tried to heal itself?  Was it finally giving up?  Unable to heal from the damage he’d put it through one last time.
“Ste..he’s...Sam he’s,” Bucky struggled to take any air into his lungs, wheezing as he clutched the ground.  “He’s here, Sam.” He glanced over Sam’s shoulder, at the man who still held the blade loosely in his gloved fingers.
Time seemed to still as Bucky’s vision began to grow fuzzy, swimming as his head laid down against the ground.  Blood coated his lips, trailing down into the stubble he’d carelessly ignored to shave.  Sam tore open the front of his suit, noticing how much larger the wound was.  Why hadn’t he worn the steal suit?  What made him choose the suit from back when he walked with the Howling Commandos?
“Bucky, I need you to try and relax, please.” Sam ignored the tears in his eyes, grabbing a new set of gauze to stop the bleeding.
Bucky let out a loud sob from the pain, hands clenched into fists as he struggled to keep a grasp on reality.  If he could keep his eyes on Sam, he’d be able to stay alive long enough for the serum to heal the wounds.
The light seemed almost brighter, as if he was reaching something he was so desperate to finally grasp onto.  Everything would fall into place, granting Bucky the one wish he’d had for so long.
The air seemed to still as he pressed harder, noticing the lack of movement from Bucky’s chest, how his hands had become limp his sides, eyes that held no life.
“Bucky!  C’mon man, you gotta keep breathing for me.” Tears dripped from Sam’s cheek down onto Bucky’s chest, his sobs echoing through the air as he crumbled.
“Please, don’t do this to us.” Sam gripped onto the torn pieces of his suit, uncaring of how the blood seemed to soak into his own skin.
Steve hadn’t moved from his spot, watching as Sam cried over a man he’d once known, someone he’d fought alongside for so long.
“Oh my god.” Steve dropped the knife, knees slamming into the ground as his hands began to shake uncontrollably at his sides.
Sam wanted to attack him, to drive the same knife into his throat that had taken away Bucky’s life.  He couldn’t find the energy to move, to do anything other than sob for the man he’d just lost.
The only sound in the field, was that of the two men that cried, even the wind was silent.
2 Months Later They laid Bucky Barnes to rest, surrounded by friends that could consider themselves family.  Soldiers said a silent prayer for the man who helped shape a generation, fighting off the protesters who claimed Bucky deserved what had happened.  Thankfully, the group was small enough to be arrested on sight.
“I can’t begin to ever apologize, what I did was beyond forgiveness.” Steve ran his hands through his hair, a sigh slipping through his lips.
“There’s nothing we can do to change the past, he at least tried.” Natasha had been wary of Steve the moment the psychiatrists deemed him sane enough.
There was something about Steve that threw her off, something he refused to share to anyone that could keep a secret.  She’d seen the file, that Hydra had captured him back in ‘43, was it because Bucky blamed himself for Steve being captured?  He’d cried in her lap so many nights, saying that if he’d been faster he’d of saved his best friend.
“He was so scared to be a hero, said that it wasn’t what he’d signed up for.  He did it to keep his family safe, three sisters, and his parents.” Steve reached for the glass of water he’d poured when they first arrived back at the compound.
Natasha eyed him carefully, fingertips gliding over the knife she’d slid into the garter on her thigh.  Was it normal for someone to bring a knife to a funeral?  No.  Natasha wasn’t stupid though, she knew better than to trust Steve.
“There was, umm, something he told me back before we went on the mission to find Zola.  Said he couldn’t keep it hidden anymore.” Steve chuckled softly, it sounded weak even to his own ears.
Sam glanced over at him, hands wrung together painfully as he used his strength not to attack him, again. “Told me he was in love with me, that he couldn’t remember a time that he wasn’t.  And what did I do?  I fucking told him it was wrong, that I didn’t feel the same for him, that he didn’t understand his feelings, as if I knew any better.” The glass in Steve’s hand shattered, shards slicing through the skin easily.
No one moved from their seats, all watching as Steve started to realize what he was saying to everyone.  Bucky had bared his heart and soul to the man, and in return he stomped on it as if it were the end of a cigarette, leaving behind nothing but ash.
“It’s all my fault.” Steve couldn’t breathe suddenly, eyes going glassy as he stared down at his still bleeding hand.
When had his hands begun to shake?  And why was his vision suddenly so swimmy?  He was just talking about Bucky, the one that he’d known back before the war.
“Steve?” Sam’s voice sounded far away, as if he was talking through a tunnel.
Steve lifted his head, sweat beading around his temples as he pushed himself off the couch, blood smearing across the otherwise pristine couch.  Glass slipped farther into the open skin, slicing open his fingers further.  The noise was too loud, far too loud for where he was at the moment.
“I’m gonna need you to sit down, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Sam reached over, nervous as to what Steve had planned to do.
“Steven, what do you think you’re doing?” The doctor glared angrily at him, clutching a syringe in his right hand, knuckles gone white from the tightness of his grip. “I don’t belong here!” Steve stepped away from the doctor and guards that surrounded him, fear overtaking all of his emotions.
There was nowhere for him to run, men strong enough to overpower him standing on all sides.  Fear was running through his veins, if he could escape then he could get back to safety, find Bucky and get away from this madness.  
“You haven’t the slightest idea, do you?” The doctors lips upturned into a sickening smirk, enough to nearly cause Steve sick.
“Your dear little friend is dead, lost in the arctic.” He gestured to one of the guards, who stepped back to receive what looked like a paper.
There, in bold letters across the front page stared back at him. Captain America Has Died Steve couldn’t control the bile that rose up in his throat, the acid spilling onto the floor as tears ran down his cheeks.  Everyone he had known was gone.  He was truly alone in this world. ~~~ Sam, and Nat watched nervously as Steve shook against the side of the bed, arms wrapped harshly around his legs, pulled flush to his chest.
“What’re we going to do?” Natasha was angry with the man that she’d watched for the last few days, angry at what he’d done.
Most of all, she was angry with herself.  If she’d only given Bucky the trust he deserved, he wouldn’t of been rotting in a coffin.  
“Tony said they’re going to execute him, that he’s too unstable.” Sam frowned, watching the brunette with a close intensity.
“Maybe they should.” Natasha’s eyes narrowed for a second, too quick for Sam to gauge a proper reaction from her.
Sparing one last glance at the man they knew as Steve, Natasha, and Sam stepped away.  This wasn’t their fight, it was already lost.
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askthiscpblog · 5 years
Note
“Enraged” as a prompt word?
This was bad, this was very, very bad. Things were not supposed to end up like this. Tonight was a night meant to be for fun and scaring the shit out of people. Not actually having people die, or be close to that. The forest was on fire, and everything looked like a literal hell. Ben liked fire more than water at least. It didn’t make him glitch out, but it sure as hell still scared him. Then he remembered he can become a ghost and glide through it. Or so he thought. This fire even burned him as a spirit, which made things more complicated.
That was when something weird happened to him. Ben while flying around looking for someone to help when he solidified against his will. Then he started to run. Not good, not good one bit. If someone forced that, then they were one of three things. They were either powerful, another ghost, or some sort of spiritualist. Ben looked around, anywhere in the darkness that could be the person or thing that gave him a form. A form against his will.
What looked back at him had red eyes and a dark, shadowy silhouette. Standing a hair shorter than six feet tall, his person mimicked Ben almost perfect. But it was all dark. Ash gray skin, red eyes, black tunic, and solid white hair. His mouth cocked to the side with a smirk crossing it, cocky as can be. He walked confidently, a sword in his left hand and shield in his right. The fire that blazed around him didn’t seem to bug him.
“Well, looks like you’re in for something. Aren’t you?” Dark Link mocks, pushing the sword into the ground. “So what is it? Getting your game back, pretending to be included, or sick and tired of being alone all the damn time?”
Ben’s eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed with aggravation.
“Yeah it’s to get my game back. What of it?” he responded, not in the mood to try and clap back. “Why? Because that is where you’re stuck?” Dark responded, taking a step closer to Ben. Ben took a step back in response, not wanting to be close to the guy.
“Oh I can go into detail about it, but…oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that if I talk to fast that a brute like you won’t understand.” Ben knew he was outmatched in a one vs one fight against him. This was the one time he wished he kept his mouth shut.
Dark looked at him and gave an obnoxious laugh to the poltergeist in question. Then it switched to pure rage, his red eyes flaring up with fire as he screamed out. The hook shot came out of nowhere from him and shot out at Ben. He had to react, and the only thing he could do was transform into his statue self. The hook shot brought Dark Link towards Ben, but he was unable to do anything. No cutting into him, no nothing. This gave Ben some time to plan. He already had one, but now it was a matter of putting it all together all dandy. Making it to where Dark didn't expect what is going to happen. After a minute Dark blinks and the statue was twenty feet away from him. Another chuckle came out of Dark as he leaned on his back foot watching the statue. He blinks again, it moved again. A few more times, a few more times.
The last time he blinked the statue was no longer a statue, but Ben running away. He wasn’t fast, not by a long shot. It was pathetic. It looked like a person trying to run away with flippers on their feet. Ben was never a physical person, never was, and never can be in the future thanks to being a spirit. Dark Link watched him run and decided to make a game out of this. They both were game types, so he figured it would be fitting for him to die while playing one.
Dark let go of the tether he held on Ben, keeping him solid. They were one of the same thread, and he was a more powerful spirit. Ben felt this tether leave and immediately went into his spirit form flying much faster than he could run. He turned around looking back at Dark Link.
“What’s the matter, can’t catch what you can’t see?!” he taunts, giving him the finger while pulling down an eye socket.
“And who is the one running away?” Dark responded with a slow, bored expression.
“We both know brains beats brawn you dumb ass. At least I’m not a copy of someone in a game as a miniboss. I am original!”
That seemed to have hit a nerve with Dark, and he started to rush after Ben while screaming. Didn’t even bother with the shield, he was running after him with both hands on Master Sword. Those red eyes were deeper red, and it seemed as if energy was rushing out of them. Good, that pissed him off enough to not have any defenses up.
Ben took off again, flying away and swerving through trees despite not having to. Sometimes he will turn solid to try and knock a tree into Dark Link, who dodged it effortlessly every time. There were a few close calls where that blade slid by Ben’s face only missing by an inch. He teleported away at those moments and kept running. Ben was huffing and puffing, despite not being able to breathe, by the time he got back to the mansion.
“Come on bitch! See if you can beat me on my home turf!” he taunted. Dark came out of fiery woods in time to see Ben make an obscene hand gesture as he vanished into the house.
Dark Link was smart, but he was so enraged he didn’t even care. This little shit kept taunting him, calling out and evading him by such a minute amount. He couldn’t get this, he needed to win this game of cat and mouse. Dark bursts into the mansion already heading up the stairs before he even saw Ben, knowing that he would run up here. He dodged through a lot of the things being thrown at him and everything falling around him. Ben saw him catching up, almost within the length of that sword. He pushed himself through a door, forcing him to follow.
Ben was in a physical form, wearing black sunglasses and a joint hanging out his mouth. As Dark Link ran towards him, he gave him finger guns with a worried but cocky smile.
“This is gonna hurt.” was the last words And EMP was set off in the room with the two computer programs inside of the harsh blast. Both started to scream, glitch, and jump around the room. Neither of them could get away from it. Their energy drained trying to correct was wrong. After five minutes of glitching, both poofed, back to their object of haunt. Ben's went to his computer, thankful it's close so he didn't have to head back to his game. For now anyways.
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This is what youth and adolescence feels like
There are beautiful, wonderful, tender memories from childhood I could put in this story; my childhood loves and my pleasant life in gentle, loving surroundings filled with light. But I am interested here only in the steps I have taken in my life to arrive at myself. I will leave in the glowing distance all the lovely oases, blessed isles, and paradises whose magic I experienced; I have no desire to set foot in them again.
And so, for as long as I stay with my girlhood years, I will speak of only the things that felt new, that pushed me onward, broke me loose.
Then came the years when I had to recognize once again the primal attraction within me, one that had to cower and hide in the permitted world of light. Like everyone else, I too experienced my slowly awakening sexual feelings as an enemy and a destroyer, as something forbidden, as temptation and sin. The great mystery of puberty, which I was desperately curious to solve and which gave rise to dreams, lust, and fear, did not fit at all in the sheltered bliss of my peaceful childhood world. So I did what everyone does: I led the double life of a child who is no longer a child. My conscious life was lived in the familiar space of what was allowed, and denied the world rising like a new dawn to me. At the same time though, my life was lived in dreams, urges, longings of subterranean kind across which my consciousness built ever more anxious and fearful bridges as the childhood world within me fell apart. Like almost all parents, mine did nothing to help the life forces awakening within me, which were never spoken about when I turned thirteen and I got the first guy who courted me and I ghosted because I'm so afraid and innocent and then while I was one of the cheerleaders of the cheerleading squad, there's this musician volleyball player Senior Captain guy who became my first boyfriend for six months and broke up with me in Yahoo Messenger because we were in a long distance relationship and I'm not fulfilling the girlfriend duties enough or maybe he found someone else in Manila. After that, I only involved myself to feel attraction through having crushes and I never had a boyfriend after that year and in my college years. My mother strictly taught me when I was fourteen to only give it to the man I'll marry in the future; my future husband should be the first one to get it. And until now, I still obeyed it and I'm still choosing to wait for the right time and the right person. My parents only tried, endlessly and untiringly, to help me in my hopeless efforts to deny reality and stay in a child's world that grew more and more false and unreal everyday. I do not know if parents can do anything else, and I am not criticizing mine in particular. It was up to me to finish growing up and find my own way; I did it badly, like most well-raised children.
Everyone passes through these difficulties. For the average person, this is the moment when the demands of his life come into the starkest conflict with his environment, when he has to fight the hardest to make his way farther along his path. Many people experience the death and rebirth that is the destiny of us all only this once, as childhood rots from within and slowly disintegrates, as everything we have grown to love abandons us, and we suddenly feel the solitude and deathly cold of the universe around us. And very many people remain stuck at this hurdle their whole life long, desperately hanging on to the irretrievable past and clinging to the dream of a paradise lost, the worst and most deadly of all dreams.
The sensations and mental images with which the end of childhood proclaimed itself in me are not worth telling here. The important thing was that the dark world, the other world, was back. At the same time, the other world outside me was gaining more and more power over me, too.
When vacation was over before college, I went to Baguio. Both my parents came with me and entrusted me with all possible care to a condominium dormitory. They would have frozen with horror had they known the kind of life they were letting me wander into.
The question was still whether I would, with time, turn into a good daughter and useful citizen, or whether my nature was pushing me onto other paths. My last attempt to be happy under the shadow of the parental house and its spirit had lasted a long time, for a while it had almost succeeded, but now it had finally and completely failed.
The strangest emptiness and isolation I had come to feel for the first time the summer before my sophomore year in college (and oh, how well I got to know it later; this emptiness, this thin air!) did not pass away quickly. I found it oddly easy to leave home, I was a little ashamed of not being sadder, in fact; my mother expressed her worries, but I couldn't. I was amazed at myself. I had always been a sensitive child who expressed her feelings; a good girl, when it came down to it. Now I had completely changed. I acted with total indifference toward the outside world and spent days at a time attending only to myself, listening to the dark, underground currents rushing and roaring inside me. I had shot up very quickly in the past six months and looked miserable, skinny, and immature. Everything girly boyishly lovable about me disappeared; I was well aware that it was impossible to love me as I was, and I did not love myself either. I missed myself who loves writing much of the time and there I was memorizing the periodic table and formulas, solving Physics and Chemistry problems for my pre-med course.
So, when I shifted to Communications from Pharmacy in the next semester, I was neither liked nor respected because I was a new face in the Humanities department. They would say hi to me and asked me if I'm Chinese or Korean. I have no friends at all. No one knows me. Boys teased me and then left me alone, having decided I was a weird, distant, unpleasant sort. I took pleasure in this identity and even exaggerated it, grumbling my way into a solitude that looked like a feminst superiority and contempt on the outside while secretly I suffered constant fits of depression and despair. At school I got by for a while on what I had already studied back home, the class was a bit behind me where we had been because I love writing and journalism when I was in high school because I was the news editor of our school paper in my senior year and I was part of the editorial staff for 4 years in high school, and I got into the habit of viewing the other students my age with a certain contempt, as children. It went on like that for a year. Nothing changed on my first few visits home, and I was always glad to go back to school.
Then it was early November of year 2014. Whatever the weather, I would take little intellectual walks, which often gave me a kind of pleasure that was full of melancholy, scorn for the world, and contempt for myself as well. That was how I felt one evening as I strolled through the city of Baguio in the damp, misty twilight. The wide avenue of public park was completely deserted, and inviting; as I walked down the lane, thickly covered with fallen leaves with a dark, voluptous desire. It smelled wet and bitter; distant trees loomed up eerily out of the mist, tall and shadowy.
I stopped at the end of the road, not knowing what to do next. I stared down at the dark vegetal mass and greedily breathed in the wet smell of death and decay, which something inside me responded to and welcomed. Oh, how insipid the taste of life was!
Someone approached down a side path, his coat billowing in the wind. I wanted to keep walking, but he called my name.
"Hello, Lianne. Huy, Lianne!"
He came up to me. It was Lance, the first guy I seriously liked when we were living in my first condominium dormitory when I was first year in college. He is now a physicist and he studied in UP Baguio. I confessed to him that I like him when I was 16 and we were both cool about it and we are good friends after that. I always enjoyed seeing him and had nothing against him except that he always treated me like a baby.
"And what brings you here?" he called out affably, in the tone that bigger kids liked to take when condescended to talk one of us. "Writing a poem, I bet."
"Never occured to me," I snapped back.
He laughed out loud and walked next to me, chatting. I had completely forgotten what that felt like.
"Don't think I wouldn't understand Lianne. I know how it is, when you're taking a walk like this in the evening mist, with 6PM thoughts, you want to write poems, I know. Poems about dying nature, of course, and the lost youth it's a symbol of."
"I'm not that sentimental. How dare you!" I defended myself.
"Alright, nevermind. Alam mo kapag ganito ang weather it's good to find a nice quiet place with a glass of wine or something along those lines. Sama ka saken? Come with me. I happen to be all alone. Or ayaw mo? Ayaw kita mapariwala if may plano ka maging good model student."
Soon we were sitting in a small pub at the edge of the city, drinking a dubious wine and clinking out our glasses together. I didn't like it very much at first, but still it was something new. Soon though, not used to drinking wine, I started talking my head off. It was as though a window had opened inside me, and the world was shining in; how long, how terribly long it had been since I'd said anything I really felt! I started to give my imagination a free rein, and before I knew it I was telling Lance the story of Cain and Abel in the Bible.
Lance listened with delight. Finally, someone to whom I have something to give! Someone who could make deep talks with me. He clapped me on my shoulder, he called me a deep one fellow and my heart swelled with pleasure: I could finally let myself go, indulge in the need to talk and communicate that had been pent up so long, and feel acknowledged by someone older than me, like I was worth something. When he called me brilliant and smart, what he said sank into my soul like sweet, strong wine. The world shone in new colors, thoughts came to me from a hundred mischievous sources, wit and fire blazed up within me. We talked about our teachers, our schools, our classmates, and it seemed to me we understood each other splendidly. We talked about the Greeks, paganism, and Lance insisted on turning the conversation into confessions of amorous adventures. Here I had nothing to contribute. I had not had any adventures, not worth telling. And what I had felt, built up by my imagination, burned within me but the wine did not free it or enable me to talk about it. Lance knew a lot more about girls than I did, and I listened passionately to his fairy-tale stories. What I learned was unbelievable: things I had never thought possible entered ordinary reality and seemed obvious, normal. These girls in his stories have already acquired quite a store of an experience. Among other things, that girls always want nothing but chivalry and attention, which is fine as far as that goes but not the real thing. You could get farther with women. They were much more reasonable.
I remember the night very clearly. When the two of us started home late, past the dully burning gas lamps in the cool wet night, I was drunk for the first time. It did not feel pleasant. It was excruciating. But still, there was something about it: sweet excitement, rebellion, spirited life. Lance took good care of me, even while gripping about what a total beginner I was, and he brought me home, half carrying me, and managed to smuggle us into the dorm through an open hall elevator.
But after a short dead sleep, I woke up to a headache, sobriety, and terrible sadness. I sat up in bed, still wearing my shirt from the day before, with my other clothes and shoes lying around the floor and stinking of smoke and vomit. Between headache, nausea, and unspeakable thirst, an image rose up in my soul that I had not seen for a long time: I saw my parents' house, my hometown, Father and Mother, my siblings, the garden; I saw my quiet, comfortable bedroom, the school, and the market square, all of it flooded with bright light, radiant, all of it wonderful, godly, and pure, and I now knew everything, had still belonged to me the day before, just a few hours ago, had been waiting for my return, but now, only in this moment, it had sunk forever under the waves, was cursed, was no longer mine. It had thrown me out and now looked upon me with disgust! Everything I had so profoundly loved, everything back to the most distant, golden garden of my childhood that my parents had given me, every bless, every Christmas, every bright, pious Sunday mornings at home, every flower in the garden, it was all laid to waste, I had trampled it under my feet. So that's how I looked in the inside! I, who went around despising the world, proud in spirit. I was a pig, like scum, drunk and filthy, disgusting and low, a wild animal taken unawares and overpowered by hideous urges. I, who had come from the garden where everything was purity and radiance and blessed tenderness, who have loved poetry and Bach music, now looked like that inside. I could still hear my laugh ringing in my ears, drunk and out of control, bursting out in idiotic stops and starts and it filled me with rage and disgust. That was me!
Despite everything, it was almost pleasurable to suffer these torments. I had crept around blind and numb for so long, my heart cowering poor and miserable in the corner, that even this self-hatred, this horror, this whole horrible feeling in my soul was welcome! At least I felt something! The embers still flickered with some kind of fire, a heart still beat in there! I was confused to feel something like liberation and springtime in the middle of all my misery.
Meanwhile, to the other side, things went downhill with me in a hurry. My first binge was soon only a first to many. There are a lot of drinking and running wild went on as I meet more friends who asked me to go out. I once belonged to the dark world. At the same time I felt miserable. I was living in a self-destructive riot. I can still recall how tears came to my eyes once when I left a bar on Sunday afternoon and saw children playing in the street, bright and happy, with freshly combed hair, in their Sunday clothes. And the whole time that I was entertaining and often shocking my friends with my monstrous cynicism at the dirty tables of cramped pubs between puddles of beer, in my heart of hearts I still respected what they were mocking. On the inside I kneeled in tears before my soul, before my past and my parents, before God.
I never felt truly one with my companions. I was still lonely when I was with them, and that's why I suffered so. And I never went along with my buddies to see boys. I was alone and full of burning longing for love. A hopeless longing even while I talked like a hardened libertine. No more was more fragile, more full of shame, than I was. I was anxiously ashamed of the warm, shy moods I so often felt, the tender thoughts of love and care that so often came over me.
I cannot summarize in brief about what I learned from my adolescence stage. The most important thing I learned from it was another step on the path to myself. I'm now young adult. I was an unusual young woman around twenty-two years old, precarious in a hundred ways but very far behind and helpless in hundred ways. When I compared myself to the other people my age, I sometimes felt young and full of curiosity. There were times when people see me gifted and creative. They admire how I write and how I sketch and paint. During college, I was eaten up with worries and self-hatred about how hopelessly isolated I was from other people, how cut off from life. They are all dating but I'm closed.
After college, I lived again at my hometown with my family. This new environment gave me courage and taught me to keep my self-respect. The way people always found something valuable in my words, my dreams, my thoughts and imaginings, always took them seriously and discussed them in earnest, became exemplary for me.
I like music because it's outside morality. I can't keep comparing myself to other people. I sometimes feel like I don't belong, I blame myself for following a different path than most other people. I have to unlearn that and I did. Stare into the fire, look at the clouds, and when ideas and intuitions came to me and the voices of my soul start to speak, I trust them and I don't worry about anything.
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13 Days of Halloween Day 1: “This Haunted House is Kind of Over The Top.”
Welcome to Day 1 of 13 Days of Halloween Writing Challenge, or, as I’m calling it, #13DoHWC2018. Here’s the main post. Here’s the AO3 work. I hope you enjoy!
Day 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13!
Pairing: IronStrange
Rating: T
Warnings: Cursing, subtle and not subtle innuedo/sexual language
Word count: 3,827
Summary: Newly graduated Tony Stark apparently has nothing better to do than build a ridiculously scary haunted house. At said haunted house he meets a super hot tall guy who doesn’t take any of his shit, and it’s amazing.
----
Once Upon a Time in This is a Good Idea Land, Tony decided that he wanted to make the scariest haunted house anyone had ever experienced. He didn’t know why he wanted to do it, he couldn’t conceive of any motivation for a mature young man with post grad education in engineering and physics to be working on a haunted house. It was juvenile, and it was a waste of what Pepper insisted was his very valuable time, and okay, maybe he just wanted to scare the pants off some people because it sounded like fun. Of course, making a Very Scary Haunted House quickly became a matter of personal achievement. Tony wanted to make the biggest, scariest haunted house anyone had ever conceived of... and he kind of had.
“Are those, are those paramedics?” Rhodey asked, looking at the not one, not two, but three ambulances parked near the entrance of the house.
“Um, yeah, kind of. See, we had some problems with panic attacks that people thought were heart attacks the first night. They have to sign a waiver to go in, and no one under 18 is allowed to even be in the parking lot...” Tony looked over the gutted and rebuilt structure of his childhood home. Really he’d left all the outside parts the same. He’d only changed the inside. The inside... was a problem.
“Tony, I think you went overboard.”
“Maybe,” Tony shrugged and waved at one of the anxious looking 20 somethings who was looking between Tony and the ambulances and the door like he wasn’t really sure going in was a good idea. “I had to do something to keep me busy. It’s better than drinking myself to death.”
“You could have been, I don’t know, making something that isn’t going to be obsolete in a month?”
“In a world of changing technology that’s everything playtpus.“ Tony put his sunglasses on and took Rhodey’s arm in his to lead him towards the house. “See, that’s the beauty of a haunted house, really. If the technology I put in it is obsolete in a month, that doesn’t matter, because so is the haunted house.”
“I can’t believe you did this to your house.”
“Yeah you can.”
Rhodey sighed, “Yeah, I can. Well, at least you’re having fun. The press certainly is.” Rhodey looked towards the news crews that were just off the property of Tony’s parents’ mansion, talking into their cameras about the phenomena of the Stark Raving Mad House, coined, unfortunately, by Tony.
“Oh the press!” Tony giggled and Rhodey raised a cautious eyebrow, “Boy do I have plans for them. They can’t go in until the last night, obviously, wouldn’t want to spoil the surprises, but...” He waved at one of the cameras that was obviously zooming in on them and then blew a kiss. “Boy do I have plans for them.”
“Please don’t get sued.” Came out of Rhodey’s mouth in a way that was far too easy and familiar for his liking.
“They can’t sue me if they sign a waiver.” He kept grinning as he took Rhodey around the side of the house to the staff entrance. “Besides, with as many of them that have tried to sneak in cameras, I’m not feeling all that merciful. Damn cheats.” He opened the side door, usually an entrance into an elaborate kitchen now being used for make-up and staging. It was noisy and chaotic and it just felt right. “Maybe I should do stuff like this full time. There’s good money in it, and I’m having a blast.”
“I’m sure Obediah would love that.” Rhodey rolled his eyes and let Tony lead him to the out of the way counter in the far corner where there was finger food fit for a king and smoothies for people with constricting costumes or masks that wouldn’t allow them to chew.
“You know, he hasn’t even been riding my ass about it, I’m kind of surprised. I expected a lot more resistance than I got.” Tony picked up a crustless half sandwhich and handed it to Rhodey before claiming one of the protein shakes that the chef was making one or two in advance.
“I can’t believe you have a Michelin star chef making sandwiches for a haunted house.”
Tony looked at Rhodey with raised eyebrows. “Can’t you?”
Rhodey sighed and Tony grinned, “Unfortunately, yes. Of course you would.”
“Of course I would. Nothing but the best for my favorite people.” He said it a loud enough that anyone in the vicinity probably heard him. He’d hand picked these people months ago, and he was paying them well. The set designers, painters, set builders, construction team, costume designers and actors had all been top of their field. Tony spared no expense, and it was paying off, despite Pepper’s insistence that it would be a money pit. He was pretty sure she’d only been telling him that because she wanted him to stop though, not because she thought it was true. If nothing else Tony opening up his house for people willing to buy tickets would have drawn in enough money on it’s own.
“Yeah, okay. So, when are you gonna show me your secret project, or is this all I get?” He asked, indicating the half dressed actors and costume designers and emergency crew.
“Don’t worry, Honeybear, I’m going to take your through myself once the crowds clear out a little.”
“You don’t close the doors until past 2am Tony.”
“What, can’t hang anymore, army man?”
“I’m in the Airforce.” Rhodey corrects him without much heat.
“Huh, I could have sworn you were an army man. Must be all the paint fumes I’ve been sniffing as we got the place ready. And the construction adhesive. And-“
“Don’t-“ Rhodey said, shoving the straw of Tony’s shake into his mouth, “finish that.”
“Don’t finish my protein shake? Okay, Rhodey, whatever you say.”
“Oh shut up.” Rhodey laughed and Tony smiled at him.
“If you two are done,” a woman dressed like a zombie, smiled, showing all her grotesque fake teeth that looked far too real, “Some of us want to eat before our four hour shift.”
“Okay,” Rhodey said, dragging Tony away from the table. “I don’t know what you’ve done, but it’s officially freaky.”
“That was all the costume designer. She’s wonderful, Janet! Wave and acknowledge your awesomeness to my Rhodey.” Tony called in the general vacinity of the costuming area, there were several stalls set up for people to change in and beside them was a rack of costumes and a slight woman about Tony’s age, with pins in her mouth that she was to fake skin and torn cloth delicately.
“I’m awesome, Tony’s Rhodey, thanks for acknowledging it.” She mumbled around the pins, never dropping one.
“You know, the more I look around the less I like this.”
“That’s the point.” Tony smiled, “Come on, let me show you the studio.”
Tony dragged Rhodey to what used to be the large butler’s pantry that had been converted into a control room. Several people were inside, watching the monitors and making the affects happen, each wearing a head set to communicate with the actors in their rooms. The lights were dimmed, but there was no trace of red corn syrup or costumes to be found. It was the least creepy room in the house.
Tony dragged Rhodey to the closest screen, the one with the dinning room setting and a tablet set with realistic looking cooked human remains. The bigger pieces were fake, but each of the three actors at the table, dressed to resemble Tony and his parents, were eating rather docily from plates of completely edible non-human food that looked like human food. They were getting paid extra.
“Um...” Rhodey said, but Tony smacked him in the arm lightly to shut him up. “There’s a new group coming in, shut up.”
Sure enough a new group of people, mostly college age students, were walking into the room, marveling at the scenery. The floor around the table was dripping in red corn syrup, and there were rusty pieces of metal tacked up against the wall and hidden under the floorboard to give the room a rusty feel. Someone got the bright idea to try and touch the food and “Howard,” roared, exposing fangs and red contacts. The guy jumped and Tony giggled.
“I can’t believe you really did this.”
“Yeah you can. Keep up the good work, Gary.” Tony said, clapping the tech on the shoulder as he led Rhodey back out.
“You got it boss.” Gary said, pushing a button and making a leg on one of the plates jerk.
——
“This haunted house is like the equivilent of a monster truck with six foot tires. It screams ‘I’m insecure in my masculinity and overcompensating.’” Stephen Strange, med student with no sense of adventure told his best friend, Christine.
“This haunted house is amazing and you need to quit being such a condescending jack ass. A lot of people put a lot of work into making this really cool. Respect that.”
“I will not respect one of the geniuses of our generation wasting his talents on...” Stephen looked at the plain house with a line of people all the way to the gate, “this.”
“Don’t say it like that. The staff has a twitter account and it’s hilarious. They all say he’s fun to work for, and since when is giving people jobs a bad thing?”
“Since those people are actors and he could be employing people with actual college degrees.”
“Wow, you are determined to suck the fun out of this for me, aren’t you?” Christine grabbed his arm and dragged him to the back of the line. “Well, be prepared to be amazed. Everyone who’s come out on the other side says it’s terrifying. I’m so excited!”
Stephen looked down at her, nothing short of condescension in his expression and she punched him in the chest. “Don’t be a dick. This is gonna be fun. Trust me.”
“I trust you. What I don’t trust is the ambulances parked outside.”
Christine looked at the ambulances and back at Stephen. “I bet he’s paying them just to be here. And I bet they’re not actors.”
“I bet you chicken out before we get to the door.”
“Oh, whatever. I’m so excited for this.”
“Do you remember that Halloween party we went to last year?”
“Stephen, shut up.” She glared at him and he raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Alright but all I’m saying is that frat boy in a bed sheet-“
“Shut. Up.”
“-made you jump into a lunch bowl and-“ Christine clapped a hand over his mouth. Stephen kept talking into her hand, smug at the attention they were drawing.
“You’re such a dick.” She shook her head and wiped his breath off her hand and on to his tee shirt.
“You’re the one who hangs out with me.”
“I’m starting to forget why.”
——
“Okay, I can’t wait any longer. We’re going in with the next group.” Tony said after his leg had been bouncing for nearly half an hour. The house was running smoothly, no one needed him, and Tony’s attention to Jan’s costuming of the second shifters was only going to last so long.
“Tony, the line is huge, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Rhodey asked as Tony dragged him out of his chair and Rhodey had to quickly set down his soda or risk it being dropped in Tony’s haste.
“I’m positive that it’s a good idea, unless you want me to get in a costume and go scare people, because running a haunted house is even less fun than running a company once all the planning is over. Okay, maybe not less fun, but comparably unfun.”
Rhodey sighed and just followed Tony out of the kitchen back around to the front of the house. He smiled at the ticket taker and she gestured for the tall man and the girl beside him to stop coming inside. “We’ll get you in the next group.” She promised with a kind smile Tony really admired.
“We’ve been waiting for hours, he can wait for ten more minutes.” The tall man with angry blue (maybe gray) eyes said, and Tony didn’t hide that he was checking him out.
“I built this, and I can go in whenever I want to. You can wait ten minutes.” Tony shot back even though the tall guy was obviously not talking to him.
“Tony,” Rhodey murmured, “maybe we should wait, alright?”
“No, I’m not going to wait. It’s my creation. They can wait.” Tony usually agreed when Rhodey tried to reign him in, he didn’t do it all that often so if he was trying to now it was because he was being a serious asshole, but he didn’t like tall guy’s attitude.  And Tony kind of had a good track record with verbal sparring and someone ending up in his bed, but that was beside the point.
“That’s just like a one-percenter, entitled asshole much?” Tall guy glared, and Tony smirked.
“Yeah, pretty much, but listen, I’d rather be an entitled asshole than what, a burned out college student barely making ends meet being dragged here by hid girlfriend. No offense, you seem lovely,” he said to the woman standing beside tall guy.
“I am. And he’s gay.”
“Christine!” Stephen protested, shoving her and she laughed.
“What, he’s obviously into you, I was just doing you a favor.”
“I didn’t ask for your help, because you’re help is never as helpful as you think it is.” His glare focused back on Tony. “And that wasn’t an invitation.”
Tony tilted his head to one side, looking at tall guy up and down. “It should be. I’d accept it gladly.” He winked and tall guy glared, but Tony could see him blushing. Aggressive flirting was pretty much always the answer. “And I know how to show someone a good time.”
“I don’t really want to try and fit in a bed with your ego, thanks.”
“I like you.” Tony nodded, “You’re still not going in before us, but I like you. Maybe call me or something.” He pulled out a business card and handed it between two fingers to the girl standing beside him, knowing that tall guy wouldn’t take it.
He waved at tall guy flamboyantly and then turned to go into the house, dragging an exasperated Rhodey behind him. He was almost inside when something sharp and tiny hit him in the back of the head.
“What the hell?” He yelled, clutching the back of his head where his business card had just hit him. “Lovely woman, how could you betray me like this? I trusted you.” He looked over his shoulder at the two of them, and Christine was covering her mouth to giggle while Stephen just glared back at him.
“If I wanted your number, I would’ve asked for it.”
Tony was kind of taken aback. Sure, people hated Tony all the time, because of who he was, or because sometimes he could be an asshole, but tall guy with ridiculously beuatiful angry eyes was different somehow.
“Can I have yours then?” Tony asked, and it was Stephen’s turn to be taken aback.
“They’re soulmates, right? Like, they’re obviously soulmates?” Christine asked Rhodey who was just watching them both flabbergasted.
“Probably. You guys go ahead, we’ll wait.” He said pointedly, holding Tony’s arm and keeping him from protesting.
“How evil is it that I want them to go in together? It’d be a great bonding moment.” Christine grinned, and Rhodey raised an eyebrow at her.
“They’d kill each other.”
“Stephen doesn’t bite.” Christine waved a hand dismissively.
“I’m right here, you know. I haven’t gone anywhere,” he glared and she scoffed.
“Oh trust me, I know. The indignation rolling off of you is palpable. I can taste it it like sexual frustration in the back of my throat.”
Stephen gaped at her and Tony smirked, but Rhodey couldn’t just let this Stephen guy take all the blows. “I wouldn’t look so smug Tones, your thirst just as bad. You’d think he threw a love potion at you and not your own business card.”
“I was really getting that vibe from him.” Christine nodded, pushing Stephen towards the door. “You want to go into the haunted house so bad, do it with him. Now.”
“No, I’m not going to.”
“What, are you scared?” Tony asked, seeing a chance and jumping at it. He’d take Rhodey through on the next round, but he really, really, really wanted to screw with Stephen. And maybe just screw him. Maybe at the same time. That sounded great...
“I’m not scared of some cheesy animatronics and overpaid actors.”
Tony sucked in a breath, and Rhodey looked instantly worried. “Cheesy animatronics? No, these are top of the line animatronics that I designed myself.” The sharpness to Tony’s grin made even Christine, who didn’t know Tony from Adam, a little worried.
“Um, maybe-“
“Fine.” Stephen cut her off. “Let’s see how scary your little overcompensation project really is.”
“Please, lead the way.” Tony said, gesturing for Stephen to go inside.
“With pleasure.” He glared and went inside. Tony followed quickly behind and Christine, Rhodey and the ticket woman all looked at each other uneasily.
“This isn’t going to end well, is it?” Christine asked.
“Challenging Tony’s tech is like insulting his honor.” Rhodey confirmed and Christine nodded.
“Alright, well, now we wait.”
“Actually, I was going to go watch them from the control room. This is going to be too good to miss.”
“Can I come with?” She asked, not even caring about spoiling the surprise inside the house. She cared far more about what Stephen was doing with Tony freaking Stark.
“Be my guest.” Rhodey said, going back the way he and Tony had come.
——
Twenty five minutes later Stephen was sweating, Tony’s heart was racing, and they were both having trouble breathing as they filed out of the last room into what used to be the garage that had been converted into a cool down room of sorts complete with soft couches and snacks
“That haunted house is over the top.”
“I see that now. That was my first time going through it with the staff. They make it much scarier.” Tony took a bottle of water and an apple, handing the water to Stephen and taking a bite out of the deep red apple. It was a suggestion of Pepper’s to distract anyone who may be too traumatized. Tony had thought maybe it had been overkill, but now he understood her reasoning. He was a master of horror, apparently. Who knew?
“That room where the family was eating people, it smelled like blood...”
“Rust.” Tony corrected, “Similar, but not quite the same. The visual of the blood made your brain make the association though. Yeah.”
“And the... that woman she knew our names.”
“That... I didn’t do.” Tony said, taking another bite of his apple.
“I still think you’re overcompensating for something.”
“I’m trying to fill the hole in my heart with horrifying imagery, you caught me.” Tony smiled, but it was shaky at best.
“Well, you’re doing a damn good job.”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe too good.”
“Definitely too good.” Stephen pulled out a pen, “If you ever wanna talk about that,” he grabbed Tony’s wrist and wrote his number on Tony’s arm. He was attractive, creative and intelligent, and he kept up with Stephen like only Christine ever seemed to, and he wasn’t a straight woman, so... He was pretty sure he was making the right choice. He looked up at Tony between his eyelashes as he finished, “this is my number.”
Tony breathed in evenly to hide the fact that he wanted to screech. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” He said, and Stephen nodded, smiling and then he left. Tony stared down at his wrist, almost not believing what he was seeing, but the elegant scrawl had to belong to the med student, and unless it was a fake number... Tony sighed a little because he was happy and no one was watching. Maybe making a haunted house hadn’t been stupidest thing he’d ever done. Maybe it had served a very important purpose in his life after all. Take that Pepper.
——
Stephen was smiling tentatively as he approached Christine at the front of the house. “Well that looks like a good sign,” she said, “I can’t remember the last time I saw your smile when it wasn’t related to showing someone up.”
“Who says I didn’t show him up?” Stephen asked, immediately defensive, and Christine chuckled.
“That is not your ‘I just showed someone up’ look. Tell me what happened.” She demanded, and Stephen shook his head, looking at her and then at the line, squinting at it, “Weren’t you supposed to be inside already?”
“I wanted to see how it went!” Her voice was just a bit too strained for Stephen to believe her.
“Where’s that guy, the one who was with Tony.”
“He wen’t to meet him in the staging room. Said that was probably where he’d go when he came out.”
Stephen looked at her suspiciously. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
He glared at her until she finally sighed, looking down at her feet. “Okay, we went to the control room to watch you guys go through. No, don’t look like that! You guys were so cute!”
“You spied on me.”
“It wasn’t spy... It was just... creative intervention.”
“You told them my name!”
She bit her lower lip, “Yeah, I did.”
“You’re a piece of work.”
“You have him your number.”
“This, this is spying.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Stop being so-“
His phone pinged and she sqeaked, covering her mouth with her hand. “Is it him? It’s him isn’t it! I bet it’s him.”
“Shut up, it’s not...”
It was Tony.
Unknown number: Hey, it’s Tony. I kind of can’t shake this stupid house. Want to go get a coffee or something? My treat.
Stephen stared down at his phone for a second, giving Christine plenty of time to peer over his shoulder to look at the text.
“Say yes.” She whispered, and Stephen... did.
Stephen: Yeah sure, you know May’s?
Unknown Number: Hell yeah I know May’s it’s only the best coffee on the east coast. You’ve got good taste.
Stephen: I’m aware.
Unknown number: Are you still at the house? I can drive us down there.
Stephen: Yeah, that works. See you in a few?
Unknown number: Oh, you’ll see me alright
Stephen sighed, exasperated, but he couldn’t hide the tiny smile from Christine, who was jumping up and down on the porch of the ridiculously large house. “I told you you were soul mates!”
“Shut up, Christine.”
“I’m telling this story at your wedding.”
14 notes · View notes
thekidultlife · 6 years
Text
Decadence by Design | The8 Victorian AU
Words: 3626
Genre: Smut with a plot
(A/N: This one is connected to the DK fic Saffron; they’re basically in the same company but this is the darker side of that company lmao Are you guys interested in reading about the other members stories as well? Let us know pls! )
(Just a bit of warning, not every detail in this fic is accurate, sometimes I do it to fit the story but I always try to be as historically correct as possible.)
February 1896
Buenos Aires, Argentina
 The pub was unexpectedly filled with lively people tonight as barrels of whiskey and tequila are being consumed by the minute. Men were singing and hollering with ear-knocking noise as hired dancers swayed their bodies sensually according to the strums of the guitar. Yet by the corners of the pub, illuminated only by incandescent bulbs, lie a much quieter spot for those who wish to drink Cuervos in silence. And also for those who wish for secrecy.
 “Anything about Lee Chocolates…?”
 Despite the dim lighting provided by a poor flickering light bulb, it was easy to discern that the man was stocky, tall and had an unkept beard as he kept on asking in pure Argentinian Spanish. You, on the other hand faced him with your face concealed in a tan colored scarf and as equally suspicious-looking as the other people in that part of the pub. You were glad that there weren’t people near your table—just two other customers who seemed to be minding their own business.
 What you didn’t know was that the young Asian man sitting one table away wanted to laugh at your unguardedness. Ever since your conversation began, his ears were trained on your table as he pretended to watch the ice in his glass of brandy melt. If Soonyoung was there to ask what his opinion was, he would’ve told the other guy that he was getting utterly bored. Not because he was just watching his ice until it melts, rather it was because the chase was getting dull.
 He saw you lean on closer to your client and whispered. “I heard they’re making a new line using chocolates from Cote D’Ivore.”
 Ah yes. The eldest of the young masters had settled in Cote D’Ivore to develop new recipes and cultivate specialty cacaos in the area—well that was what Soonyoung had told him since he was the one in charge for protecting the young master Jihoon and he’d better warn him so that these shady people would never step a foot on Cote D’Ivore.
 “You’d have to be more specific than that or you won’t get anything,” the rough voice of the man had woken the Asian man back to the task at hand and heard you replying next.
 “I know. Don’t be so impatient,” you said with a glare and threw a kraft colored envelope on the table. “Here’s the map. Now give me the payment.”
 Though it wasn’t the best work, it had given you the best income—information-selling, that is. However, you don’t sell just any other information; you were selling information about the international chocolate business. Now that Lee Chocolates had begun revamping its decades long operations, it was one of your bestselling info yet.
 You took the small packet handed out to you within seconds and stood up since you had another client right after that. The Asian man waited for the stocky guy to leave before he also stood up and left his table with a grin.
Xu Minghao is out for hunting.
April 1895
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
 Minghao didn’t expect coffee to look like red berries.
 As a person hailed from Fengtian, China, he was more familiar with tea and though he has heard of coffee being imported from Arabia, he has never seen the actual plant. However, as the bodyguard of the youngest Lee sibling, the job offered him the opportunity to learn a lot about chocolates and the ingredients that goes with it.
“Alright, let’s go Minghao!” Chan’s lively voice had him turn around from where he was standing—observing the lush coffee fields before him.
“Has young master sealed the deal already?” he asked as the young man grinned at him and placed an arm over his bodyguard’s shoulder. Even though Minghao was basically Chan’s servant, Chan treated him like he was his best friend.
 “It was a great deal! Jihoon would love an additional ingredient to play with,” Chan replied enthusiastically and patted Minghao on the back. “Come on, let’s visit the market and see what they have there!”
 Chan’s job in particular was to source out ingredients to make new chocolates with and it was always a dangerous task to take. There were a lot of competitors in the chocolate market and everyone wants to get ahead of the other even if it meant taking the less moral route. Minghao was there to alleviate that sort of problem in Chan’s mind, so he can travel worry-free. Chan has no idea how his bodyguard doubles as an agent in taking down those who leak information about Lee chocolates.
 And that was what he was doing that night in a damp alleyway pretending to be beggar.
 You were coming down the alley as silently as you could, covered in a long dark trench coat despite the rather humid weather. It was the first time Minghao had seen you physically but knew what you looked like because of the photograph provided by the family’s chief of security Choi Seungcheol and he had finally confirmed that the photo didn’t do you justice by how you seemed like a femme fatale in real life.
“Here’s the recipe for Blended Varietal Truffles with Amaretto,” your voice had his attention back to you again and silently waited for the reply of the person on the other side of the wall which was beyond Minghao’s view.
“Are you sure this is the one by Lee Chocolates?” a man with British accent asked and you nodded.
“You don’t trust me?” you replied but the British man scoffed at you and handed an envelope Minghao assumed was cold cash.
“You better hand me another recipe in six months,” the man demanded.
“Then pay up higher. The company’s being stricter now and it’s getting harder to obtain these things,” you replied with a scowl on your face. “The second Lee son is now managing the company and they have a complete arsenal of countermeasures.”
September 1895
Zurich, Switzerland
Chan had finally finished dealing with the orange liquor suppliers under Jihoon’s request and while Chan was busy with his skiing, Minghao was hanging out at the other part of the resort, eating a frankfurter as he casually eavesdropped once more to your conversation.
“They’re now expanding to exotic recipes, but I got you their truffle machine designs,” you said in a low voice as you handed over a folder.
Minghao had his eyebrows raised at how you were so talented at getting those sort of information. He was sure Yoon Jeonghan, the head for factory management wouldn’t be so happy.
“Good. Here’s the money,” the German replied and handed over his payment which you instantly secured inside your coat.
 November 1895
Constantinople, Ottoman Empire
Travelling was one of the many benefits of being Lee Chan’s bodyguard and personal assistant and Minghao could actually decide where they’ll go next since there really wasn’t any system of choosing in the first place. So since he was tracking you down, they went to Constantinople—a place Chan has never set afoot before.
“Wow. Do you see this, Minghao? These are pistachios!” Chan exclaimed excitedly as he handed out a fistful. Minghao took one and saw that it had an beige colored shell with a green nut resting loosely in the inside.
“Go on! Taste it!” Chan urged his rather hesitant bodyguard so he simply removed the shell and place the green nut back on Minghao’s palms. “It tastes great, you know!”
 Minghao warily placed it in his mouth and chewed it slowly—savoring the rather distinctive nutty flavor. Nodding his head, Chan grinned at him and continued talking about the pistachio.
 “You know, I’ve always been searching for Middle Eastern pistachios! The ones cultivated in the Americas die off easily so we can’t use them as ingredients,” Chan said as he popped another one into his mouth. “Plus, they’re extremely hard to ship since they go on fire so suddenly.”
 “They do? Why?” Minghao asked as Chan offered him another handful.
 “Dunno. Researchers are still figuring it out,” Chan remarked as he shrugged nonchalantly. “But we better find a way how to get these things into our cargo.”
 Later that afternoon, Minghao was enjoying himself with a bag of pistachios as he watched you yet again leak confidential company information. Well, it’s not like it’s not taken care of. There are members of the security department of Lee Chocolates that takes care of the people who bought the information from you and Minghao wasn’t part of it so he simply focused on his job.
“I finally got where they source their macadamia supplies,” you said, sitting on a park bench with an older woman sitting behind you who was smoking.
Oh no. Chan wouldn’t like that. Minghao pondered as he chewed on another nut and saw the smoking woman take a piece of paper which you slid down and gave you your sum of money.
“Excellent. We’re counting on you with the new specialty cacaos,” the woman replied and then stalked off the park as dusk loomed over the streets. Minghao popped the last pistachio in his mouth and went back to the hotel where Chan was deciding which country to go next.
February 1896
Buenos Aires, Argentina
 You were actually getting late to an appointment with a client tonight who actually asked for a sampler of the latest pistachio-coffee creation which wasn’t even released on the market yet. You always commended how good the people working in Lee Chocolates are with how they found the ingredients, how they make the recipes, how they market it, how they manage everything so efficiently and how they hide their secrets so well these days. Honestly speaking, you were actually running low on information to sell and was starting to think of switching to another company to infiltrate.  
 Entering an expensive hotel, you wondered if your client was filthy rich but you only stayed in that state of wondering since the client never gave out his identity, just a place to meet up. You climb the stairs in a hurry and in your coat lie the box of chocolates you were supposed to give. Arriving in front of the designated room, you knocked after taking deep breaths.
 “Come in,” a voice answered from behind the door and you walked right in, making sure to lock the door so there wouldn’t be any disturbances.
 The room was just like the interior of the hotel—classical European with brown wallpapered walls, light pink sconces and elegant armature made from Argentinian wood. They looked expensive but what looked more expensive was the Asian man with dark brown hair and a tiny smirk on his lips lounging casually on the comfy king sized bed. He was looking at you deviously as soon as you entered the room with his stylish black coat, white button up, and dark wool trousers.
 “You’re late,” he said to you in perfect Argentinian Spanish with his rather distinctive voice.
 You walked forwards and placed the box of chocolates beside him on the bed in a loud plop. You weren’t really interested in keeping the meet up longer than a few minutes so you simply did your part of the agreement and it was time to do his.
 He eyed the box and then back to you—throwing off a knowing smirk. “How can I be sure if you delivered me the right one?”
 You raised your brows at him. “You’d better trust me.”
 “Or else what?” Minghao grinned and gently opened the wooden box with his deft fingers. “Trust doesn’t grow on trees, love.”
 You didn’t reply, instead, you watched him take one of the dome-shaped truffles inside the felt lined box and prodded it on his lips enticingly, gazing at you as if saying, “Would you want a bite?”
 Taking a deep breath to forcibly remove yourself from his spellbinding eyes, you shrugged and looked at the porcelain lamp glowing dimly on the nightstand. Minghao was chuckling at your disoriented state and popped everything inside his mouth.
 “See? It’s the real deal. It was so hard to get them, so pay up!” you demanded as you hung your coat over your arm yet the man seemed to be taking things leisurely.
 “Patience, dear,” he replied, grabbing another piece and stood up. You were surprised how tall he was as he stood before you but what was more surprising was how close he was to your face.
 Taking advantage of your shock, he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes and nudged the piece of chocolate to your lips like what he did earlier. He was gazing at you intensely that you were sure you’re gonna melt faster than the truffle on your lips. Unable to resist, you took a small bite out of the chocolate and savored its coffee goodness with the nutty flavor of the pistachio bits.
 “It’s delicious, don’t you think?” Minghao suddenly said in a low husky voice which made your stomach go up and down. “Would you let me take a bite too?”
 You weren’t given the opportunity to produce a reply, instead, you felt his lips on yours as he swiftly slid his tongue in your mouth, relishing the decadent taste of the chocolate. The suddenness of the situation had stunned you to complete submission and you weren’t able to fight back with how dominant he was holding your waist, pushing you flush against him.
 The chocolate had long melted inside your mouth yet Minghao continued to kiss you oh-so-sensually, forgetting about it and simply enjoying how you taste. He had long wanted to do this; probably ever since he had seen your photograph and now, here you were moaning between his arms. It was so good. So, so good. Yet at the same time decadent by nature.
 He removed himself from your lips and began attacking your neck—leaving dark marks here and there—but Minghao didn’t care if you’ll see them in the morning. It was a proof of your sin.
 “No…wait…” you tried to control the situation but the young man continued nibbling on your skin as if he hadn’t heard you.
 “You’re a bad liar,” he whispered against a darkening splotch of skin as you allowed his hands to travel between your legs, noticing how wet you were becoming. “Such a bad, bad liar.”
 In your rational mind, you wanted to stop. You don’t just go sleeping with random men who looked utterly delectable as his soft lips suckled on your pulse point, making you groan in pleasure. Yet, you can’t deny it. The man was handsome with his dark hair disheveled by your fingers pulling at them, as he removed your scarf and blouse off of you, as well as your traveling shorts—leaving you on your undergarments which Minghao removed so easily. You were glad you decided not to wear such heavy dresses tonight or you’ll take forever to undress.
 Minghao led you to the bed and had you lying on the soft pillows as he hovered above you. You never noticed when he began removing his clothes but now, you saw him only with his black trousers on. Relishing at the sight of his defined muscles, you were yet again mesmerized as the haze of lust clouded your mind. Minghao was looking at you with a grin as he explored your body with his hands.
 “Chocolates are well known aphrodisiacs, you know,” muttered close to your ear as he littered more truffles on your chest and stomach.
 Your rising body heat and his warm tongue was beginning to melt the chocolates as he kissed and licked your sensitive nipples—ravishing at how the slickness of the liquid chocolate felt on your skin as he groped your breasts. As soon as he was done licking the chocolates off of you, he once again crashed his lips onto yours which had you tasting the remaining chocolate on his tongue.
 Breaking off the kiss, you felt him move lower until he began kissing your inner thighs. You were already soaked from the erotic food play from earlier and it just simply made it easier for Minghao to draw slow circles on your clit—turning you into a whimpering mess. Without warning, he slid his a finger into your dripping core that had your back arching in sheer pleasure; moaning out anything you could say. Eventually, he inserted another digit into, then another as you continued to grab on the white sheets until your knuckles were white.
 “Please…I’m…close…” you muttered between breathy rasps, begging for him to continue and as soon as Minghao had heard your words, he curled his fingers to reach your sweet spot, making you give out a choked cry.
 However, when you were merely a few pumps away from climaxing, the young man had stopped with a low chuckle rumbling from his chest.
 “No…please…please…” you whined when he took his fingers out of you and had you suck on them which you gratefully did—swirling your tongue and tasting your juices on his fingers.
 “Naughty girls don’t get to come, love. Now come over here and suck me,” he ordered you with so much authority in his voice that you had no choice but to obey obediently.
 He was kneeling in front of you with pants open and his cock out of the confined restraints of his underwear as you crawled towards him. But before you could do anything, he prodded your mouth open with his thumb and placed a piece of truffle on your tongue; his eyes glinting in mischievousness as he looked at you below him.
 You caught his idea and gradually slipped his cock between your lips. Your tongue twirled around the head as the chocolate began melting in your mouth as he fisted your hair, controlling your movements. Your hand then made its way to the base of his member and pumped the remaining length you couldn’t fit.
 Minghao groaned at the sight of you bobbing your head up and down his shaft as the dark stains of chocolate remained on his skin. And when you stared into his eyes with you lips around his cock, Minghao had to bite his lip to stop himself from coming in your mouth. He then forced himself to slip away from you and had you lying back down on the mattress as he spread your legs apart.
 “Ready for me, love?”
 Even though it was a question, he didn’t need a reply. Minghao rubbed his shaft between your folds just to tease you and when you were beginning to whimper, he finally gave in and pushed his cock into you roughly.
 Shocked at the sudden feeling of fullness, you arched your back as you gripped on the sheets for dear life. He was ramming into you with intensity as you cried out incoherent words repeatedly like a mantra. Minghao then shifted his position, grabbing your leg and placing it over his shoulder as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.
 “Y-yes…ah—oh my god,” you cried as a familiar feeling pooled in your stomach. He then reached out for your clit and rubbed it relentlessly; biting his lips to hide a grunt because of how tight you were gripping him.
 “Come on, love. Come for me,” Minghao coaxed as he changed angles and pounded right at your sweet spot.
 Sound of skin slapping echoed inside the room together with your heavy breaths and loud moans. Minghao was completely enamored with how you looked so utterly fucked out with your tinted cheeks and lidded eyes as he continues to pounded into you until you were crying out; reaching your orgasm. Within a few more thrusts, Minghao pulled out and came on your stomach as you dazedly watch him kiss your lips once more.
 You never realized that you fell asleep until you woke up a while later.
Though, you didn’t expect to be handcuffed on the bed railings as your hazy eyes registered the Asian man who just gave you one of the best nights of your life, sitting lazily on a chair in front of you. Immediately panicking, you pulled on the restraints but the young man only gave you a mere chuckle.
 “Just how naughty are you love? Having sex with a man without knowing his name,” he spoke first as he glanced at his nails, seemingly uninterested on you.
 “You…! What…what is this?!” you shouted yet the man simply scoffed and brushed a hand on his still disheveled hair which you may or may not admit as sexy.
 “Can’t you tell, love? You’re being tied up,” he replied with a grin, leaning against the backrest of the chair. “You’ve been a very, very bad girl lately.”
 “What…what do you mean?”
 “Oh you know what I mean,” his lips crept to a smirk as he stood up from where he was sitting—slowly walking towards you with his hands on his pockets. “Selling information about Lee chocolates and all. Unfortunately for you, I work for them.”
 You blanched within seconds after you heard his words as your eyes grew wide. There was no way out of this anymore.
 “Oh my god. You’re…you’re Xu Minghao...Lee Chan’s bodyguard,” you muttered in a small terrified voice as the owner of the name held your chin up to look straight into his eyes.
 “That’s right, love. Unfortunately, you won’t be seeing anymore clients,” he told you with a menacing grin. “We already took them down.”
 You were about to say something when he placed a finger on your lips to shush you.
 “But you don’t have to worry about that, love. Fortunately for you, Lee Chocolates is open for hiring.”
-Admin Hyeri
183 notes · View notes
thebmatt · 3 years
Text
Character Layers: Oldman Franks
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LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE
Name: “Old Man Franks. Or just Franks if you want. The actual first name’s Aleister, but….ain’t no one but the departed wife called me that in a long time. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. Still hurts a little to think about her”
Eye Color: “They’re a kinda blue. Always heard the shade was called ‘Steel blue; though I can’t claim to understand why”
Hair Style/Color: “Yeah, my hair’s been white for quite some time...as for the style, well...never put much stock in what it looked like. Sometimes I’d take a brush to it if the...well sometimes I’d brush it if the occasion called for it. Jandelaine showed me this style, though. I try to maintain it, cause the guy did a lot of work for it..”
Height: “6 and a half fulms tall. I’m told that’s on the upper end for Highlander men by people who care about that sorta thing”
Clothing Style: “I had a bad few years where...well, let’s just say I wasn’t able to to put much effort into looking all that great. But I got a second chance, so I put a good amount of work into looking the best I can. Bein able to make my own clothes, puttin stuff that’s both functional and stylish, certainly helps with that”
Best Physical Feature: “I...look remember when I said I had a bad few years? Let’s just say my body kinda went to hell at that point. I don’t wanna say much more’n that. LIke I said...second chance. I’m real happy with what I’ve got now. So...all of it, I guess. Have to ask someone else if you wanna get more specific”
LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE
Your Fears: “....losin’ everything. Goin back to the way things were for me. Or...waking up and realizing that everything since settin foot in Eorzea that first time was all a dream.”
Your Guilty Pleasure: “I ain’t feelin a bit guilty about it, but everyone thinks the Warriors of Light are just constantly fightin’. More of our days are calm than not. So I reckon people’d be shocked at just how much time I spend readin’ or tinkerin’ or buildin’ stuff.”
Your Biggest Pet Peeve: “Selfishness.”
Your Ambition for the Future: “All those things I do in my downtime? I’m fightin for the time when I just do those. When all I do is build or create”
LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS
Your First Thoughts Waking Up: “Either goin over the list of stuff I’m doin today, or whatever I didn’t finish the previous day”
What You Think About the Most: “Just how....good my life is, really. I know that might seem weird, always havin something I gotta fight to save the star and all, but honestly, all those bad years I talked about...lets just say this is better. I have friends, real friends, a home, and the opportunity to do more than destroy and ruin everything around me.”
What You Think About Before Bed: “How much I miss those I had to leave behind.”
You Think Your Best Quality Is: “I spent a lot of my life as a farmer. It’s hard work, but it’s mostly physical. Never really studied much in the way o’ higher learning, shall we say. Then durin’ my…bad years, I learned some magic but…lookin back on it there was more study and application of theory than I realized, but at the time it just felt like a matter o’ will. Focusing all your anger until sheer stubbornness manifested your will. Now that I’ve left all of that behind, I’ve realized just how much more of a gift I have for these intellectual pursuits. It’s been hard to accept but it’s somethin I’ll never take for granted.”
LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?
Single or Group Dates: “Call me old fashioned, but I prefer t’spend time with someone I care about one-on-one”
To be Loved or Respected: “I’ll take ‘loved’ any day of the week over just respected.”
Beauty or Brains: “If there’s one thing I learned in my long life, it’s that beauty is not universal. Someone out there is gonna find ya attractive regardless of how ‘conventionally beautiful’ or not ya might be. Me, well, I find intelligence pretty attractive. Someone who’s self possessed and at the top of their field.”
Dogs or Cats: “We had some barn cats at the farm. They were pretty great. Always preferred cats. They took care of themselves for the most part.”
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LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?
Lie: “....Yeah. Don’t like to do it just casually, you understand. But sometimes you need to motivate someone...or help em avoid fallin apart at that particular moment. They can be mad later when they’re safe. ”
Believe in Yourself: “Not easily. But I’m learnin’, since coming here. Since meetin’ the other Warriors and the Scions. My friends. They’re....they’re helping.”
Believe in Love: “Yeah. Can’t miss it this much if you don’t believe in it, I guess.”
Want Someone: “I’ve found a number of folks attractive here. But actual deep want? Only once. Give anything to have her back. Haven’t felt anything like that since”
LAYER SIX: EVER?
Been on Stage: “Nah. Don’t like the spotlight.”
Done Drugs: “Nah, never had the occasion. I know you’re probably thinkin that’s what I got into during the bad years I mentioned but that wasn’t it. Since comin here the last thing I want to do is hurt my body worse than just moderate drinkin”
Changed Who You Were to Fit In: “This is definitely somethin I did during those bad years. Don’t know how much of it was my choice, lookin back, but at least part of it was”
LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES
Favorite Color: “Always been kinda partial to natural shades o’ green. Still prefer wearin’ black tho.”
Favorite Animal: “Weird story, durin’ my not-so-great years, I had a few friends. One of em was a master of beasts. Guy could tame almost any wild critter into worki’n together to hunt and fight. He had this really big cat. Beautiful creature, but it was mean. Territorial. Hated all of us except for him...and weirdly, me. Don’t know why, but that thing would be downright affectionate with me sometimes. Dunno why, but I’ve had soft spot for big cats since then..”
Favorite Food: “Don’t ask me how this happened, but during my bad years I lost my sense of taste. I just ate whatever for nourishment. Now that I’ve...gotten past that, every new thing I try just tastes amazing. So yeah, don’t really have favorites nailed down yet. Everything tastes too good to choose. Even spicy stuff. It’ll probably be seafood in the end. Damn good to be in Limsa a lot of the time”
Favorite Game: “I like card games. Or really intense board games where there’s a lotta strategy involved.”
LAYER EIGHT: AGE
Day Your Next Birthday Will Be: “Tell you a little secret? I don’t remember. I think it’s on record at the Adventurer’s Guild as bein’ the 5th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon, but I honestly just kinda pulled that outta my head at random. They marked the days different where I’m from and I ain’t ever bothered to figure out the conversions. Even then I don’t know that I could remember it.”
How Old Will You Be: “That’s a damn complicated thing to answer. So much so that I ain’t gonna say”
Age You Lost Your Virginity: “My late wife and I got married early in our 20s...but we fooled around a lot for the couple years we dated. Heh. Take of that what ya want”
Does Age Matter: “Maybe I would’ve said so a long time ago. Now, it’s complicated, thanks to the strange as hell life I’ve led.”
LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL
Best Personality: “Someone whose wit, joviality, and kindness can make me smile and I can forget my struggles even for a moment.”
Best Eye Color: “Definitely silver.”
Best Hair Color: “White with silver highlights that shine in the sunlight…”
Best thing to do with a Partner: “Staying up late into the night just talking about anything and everything, sharing every secret so your hearts are laid bare.”
LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE
I love: “My friends.”
I feel: “Determined. This is my second shot at life and I’m going to do better this time”
I hide: “A lot about where I come from and what really happened to me. Just...the world ain’t ready to know a lot of it. I prefer to let what I’ve done recently and what I’m doin’ now speak to who I am, not what came before.”
I miss: “Like I said earlier, all those I left behind”
I wish: “I could bring back those I’ve lost and bring here the ones I left behind.”
(Thank you to @earthlystar​ for this! If you’d like to fill it out, consider yourself tagged to do so! I’m gonna see about filling this out for the rest of my crew in the future!)
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Innocent [Part 7]
Summary: Blake Ainsley’s always had a rule that she wouldn’t getting into a relationship with someone outside of SHIELD, the problem came in the form of a tall brunette hunter trying to be normal. Blake and Sam believe each other to be too innocent for the world they both know, one that involved chaos, death, blood and pain. Will they ever know about each others ‘real life’?    
Characters: Blake Ainsley/OC x Sam Winchester, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff
Words: 3277
Warnings: Swearing, blood, a little fluff, and a little angst.
Part One  Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
Masterlist
Prompt List
ASK US A QUESTION LIST
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They parked in the woods a good distance away. They were about to leave Sam out of possible harms way when he grasped onto Blake arm with determination. He was a light sleeper so it wasn’t unexpected. “We here?”
“The file came from these coordinates.” Nat informed him as he climbed out the truck to his full six foot four height. He towered over Steve and that reminded him of the days he was tiny.
“So did I.” Steve mumbled as they walked around the camp as Nat raised her device in the air looking for anything, “This camp is where I was trained.”
“Changed much?” Sam rolled his eyes not believing this deserted training camp was where this man came from. How could Blake blindly put her faith in this guy.
“A little.” Steve said his eyes trained on one area as if something was there that the rest of them couldn’t see. What they didn’t hear was a familiar voice calling out to Steve’s former self who had stopped to watch the present man. The voice called Rogers back to the group and into formation.
“You okay?” Blake softly asked the older man.
“Brings some back emotions. It is stupid that I actually miss the days when I was barely 100 pounds soaking wet?”
“Not really. You went into the line of duty to help your country in the days we were at our worst. You didn’t get to see the win through.”
“This is a dead end. Zero heat signature, zero waves, not even radio. Whoever wrote the file must have used a router to throw people off.” Nat sighed barely noticing as Steve was staring at the building in front of them.
“What’s wrong Steve?” Blake questioned softly as Sam looked around.
“Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards from the barracks. This building is in the wrong place.”
Blake watched as Steve grasped the lock in his hand before gripping his shield and slamming it down. The lock dropped to the ground before opening the door for everyone. He placed his hand on Sam’s chest as the females went inside.
“You sure you want to step into mess we have on our hands?” Steve asked, “You still go back to California and forget this all happened.”
“I’m sure. You don’t know the life I had growing up, and I would never give up on that woman in there. I love her.”
“Okay.” Steve sighed letting Sam walk past. Glancing around he pulled the store shut before catching up with everyone.
Blake flicked the lights on allowing them to see what they had walked into, specifically they noticed that they had stepped into an old SHIELD office. They all stood in shock at what was around them.
“This is SHIELD.” Nat said looking all around.
“Maybe where it all started.” Steve said as they continued into a room holding old photographs of Howard Stark, Peggy, and Colonel Chester Phillips. Blake had read up on the history of SHIELD when she officially joined.
“There’s Stark’s father. You can tell they shared the same personality.” Blake whispered thinking of the brainiac in charging of supplying money for the Avengers needs.
“Howard.” Steve muttered.
“Who’s the girl?” Sam asked noticing the sadness on Steve’s face.
There’s no reply as Steve continued walking farther into the room where a bookshelf was resting on a wall. Taking up a lot of the room.
“If you already working in a secret office… “ Steve trailed off as Sam helped him move the bookshelf away revealing a pair of silver elevator doors.
“Then why do you need to hide the elevator?” Blake finished rather surprised at the revelation. It was slightly a tight fit riding down to the further into the earth. The doors opened to show an even larger room with a large amount of old computers.
“This can’t be the data point, this technology is ancient.” Nat says looking around the room in shock. “Nat. We’re in the right place. There’s a flash drive port, this definitely not originally here.” Blake said in shock also. Sam glanced around in wonder.
“Well let’s see what happens.” Nat genuinely smiles at her female…friend. She could consider Blake a friend. She quickly places the flash drive into the port activating the computers in the room.
“Initiate system?” The robotic voice of the computer said. “Y-E-S, spells yes.”
Sharing a look with the people in the room with her, as Nat carefully typed yes. Everyone but Steve watched in amazement of being with something so old. Steve was more comfortable with these computers opposed to the modern day ones.
“Shall we play a game?” Nat chuckles darkly before turning to Steve, “It’s from a movie that…”
“Yeah, I saw it.” Steve muttered rolling his eyes.
“I made him watch it with Thor and I.” Blake chuckled remembering the unimpressed and frightened appearance of both the men that night. She always found it amazing that they were big men that fought real life bad people and a little movie scared them.
“Good job.” Nat said appreciative.
“Rogers, Steven. Born, 1918. Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna. Born 1984. Ainsley, Blake James. Born 1982. Winchester, Samuel. Born 1983.” A heavy accented voice says coming from the computer. There on the screen is a green figure with glasses, it was like a prehistoric version of FaceTime or Skyping.
“What the hell…” Sam trailed off freaking out internally. This was something he had never though possible especially with such old technology.
“It’s some kind of recording.” Natasha says.
“How the hell does it know Sam?!” Blake exclaimed shocked. He had nothing to do with SHIELD or HYDRA. He didn’t even have social media for god sake and he never explained why.
“I am not a recording Fräulein. I amy not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I am…” The computer trails off. A black and white photo is brought up of a man Blake can’t put her finger on.
“Do you know this thing?” Blake whispers over to Steve. Sam goes to pat his pocket looking for his phone only to discover it missing.
“Shit. Guys can you do what you have to do? I lost my phone. It has my families number on it and some important information about law schools.” Sam questioned wincing at the possibility of losing everything.
“Uh. Yeah, we’ll be out as soon as possible. Go to the truck I guess.” Blake said. Sam swiftly kissed her on the cheek before returning to the elevator.
“Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He’s been dead for years.” Steve muttered not taking his eyes off the screen. The familiarity of the name came back to Blake with ease, it was something that Steve had only mentioned in passing after a couple times they had found.
“First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972 I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body, my mind however, that was worth saving on two thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain.” Zola replied only showing the slightly emotion when correct his nationality.
“That’s just beyond creepy.” Blake shivered.
“How did you get here?”
“Invited.” “It was Operation Paperclip after World War II. SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic values.” Natasha began.
“Swiss. Don’t want him putting up some unfriendly photos on Facebook…oh wait you can’t with his junk!” Blake cackled feeling Steve shove his elbow into her ribs.
“They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own.” Zola stated, “I am no mere computer program Fräulein, I am a genius without a physical body.”
“Still creepy you freak.”
“HYDRA died with the Red Skull.” Steve hissed giving Blake another glare.
“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” Zola continued. 
 “Prove it.”
“Accessing archive.” Zola said as old footage popped up showing Red Skull before Blake started to wonder if Sam was waiting at the truck as asked, “HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did no cooperate, history was changed.”
Blake’s eyes widened in horror as the information, the mere genius of how HYRDA had been hiding so well over the years. She shared a mixture of horror, shock and disgust with Nat and Steve before she turned back to Zola.
“That’s an absolutely stunning way to hide. Nobody would have thought to even think about that.” Blake whispered.
“That’s impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you.” Nat said pissed off and unwillingly to believe the garbage she was hearing.
“Accident will happen.” Zola says creating shivers on Blake’s arms.
Suddenly on the computer screen is footage of Howard and Maria Stark’s car accident that was apparently a set up. The real cause of death was murder by HYDRA. Next is footage about the death of Director Fury. Blake’s hand raised to her mouth barely able to comprehend the depth of betrayal of working for HYDRA even when she didn’t have clue.
“HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA’s new world order will arise. We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your life; a zero sum.” Zola provides more information but Steve can’t take it any longer so he breaks the computer, “As I was saying…What’s on this drive? Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm.”
“What kind.” Blake harshly says pushing herself in front Nat and Steve, “What does this shitty thing do?”
“Blake.” Nat whispers putting her hand back on her arm.
“The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it.” Zola’s voice if possible takes on a type of evil. At the sound of slight grinding they spin around to see the doors to their only way out are closing and they wouldn’t be able to make it in time by running. Without hesitation Steve throws his shield trying to jam it in the doors but it ricochets off into the wall and back into Steve’s hand. “Guys. We’ve got a bogey. Short range ballistic with thirty seconds tops.” Nat says looking down at her phone. “Who the fuck fired it?” Blake exclaimed.
“SHIELD.”
“I’m afraid I have been stalling, Captain. Admit it, it’s better this way. We are both out of time.” Zola finished his little spiel.
He hadn’t even finished his sentence when Steve’s sees a small opening from his frantic searching. He yanks the grate off and throwing it out of the way to throw Blake, Nat and himself in with the hope it would be enough to save their lives. Pulling themselves into a tight little ball the shield barely covers them all. It’s a fiery hell as he pulls himself out to scope out danger before scooping Nat into his arms.
Five Minutes Earlier
Sam is antsy waiting by the truck for the group to join him, he had been waiting for nearly five minutes. There was no sign of them and it was making his skin crawl. All he could think about was how that thing had known everyone’s names and birthdates. How he knew Sam’s birthdate.
Better yet apparently Steve Rogers, wait no Captain fucking America, is actually from a different era. How the hell was he still so young looking? Jesus did he find the fountain of youth because with hunting monsters he wouldn’t be surprised. Actually he didn’t know why he was surprised that it was possible. It could be witchcraft but there wasn’t anyway…plus he seemed too righteous and pure to bother with that stuff. Not to mention that the group definitely didn’t know about the hunting life.
“Come on guys.” Sam sighed leaning back onto the truck.
They should have gotten all the information they had and should have been out here already given how easy they seemed to be able to both hide in plain sight and hack. Not even his family were that good at hacking and that was saying something. Sam did most of the hacking when his Dad tried to keep him out of the hunting fray.
He had just leaned his head against the truck when he saw something going straight for the building Blake and her friends were in. He dropped to his knees in anguish as he watched the building explode and go into flames. He couldn’t help the sobs leaving his body because there was no way anyone could survive that.
“NO!” Sam screamed sobbing. He couldn’t get himself together because he didn’t know what he could even do now.
Everywhere he turned he saw red high flames and he wondered why he had bothered leaving them. He shouldn’t have left them. He should have known it was going to happen because what ever goes right in his life? He didn’t know how long he cried on the cold ground not caring about anything at that moment.
“Can you help me?”
“H-how?” Sam gasped looking up to see Steve standing there with Blake thrown over his shoulder and Nat in his arms, both unconscious.
“We don’t have time! Open the doors.” Steve demanded causing Sam to scrambled into the back seat.
Blake and Nat were carefully placed in the back seat with Sam holding Blake in his arms. He kept kissing her head muttering thanks to whoever decided to cause a miracle.
“What happened?” “Zola was stalling. We didn’t know what was happening until he let us know that we were going to be dead. Nat caught information that a bogey was headed straight towards us with not even a minute.” Steve said as he peeled out of the area, “The reason we’re not dead is because of my shield.”
“How?”
“It’s made of a metal called Vibranium. It was given to me by Howard Stark and it’s been with me ever since. The material is extremely strong and nearly unbreakable. It’s a special and highly wanted metal that only comes from on area in the world.”
“How are you even alive and look this old?” “Seventy years ago I lost my best friend when he fall out of a train to his death. A short while later we learnt that Red Skull was going to bomb countless cities. The problem was that those bombs were actually aircrafts. In the end right before my life ended in that era I was trying to turn one of the planes around but it was going too fast. I called HYDRA headquarters where my team was. The plane was going towards New York and instead of letting millions of people die I crashed it. I crashed it into the Arctic ocean with my last words being with the love of my life.” Steve said not wanting to really get into the matter anymore. He could already feel the tears building up in his eyes.
“You should definitely be dead.”
“I very much should be.” Steve agreed
It was mere minutes after the truck had left from the hiding place when the STRIKE team showed up to roam the area. As per usual the head of the team Rumlow was searching more than the others, he wanted them dead. In his opinion he was better than them and he would find them easily and he would kill them. Even that damn tag along that was apart of Viper’s personal life.
“You find anything. A piece of clothing or a goddamn fingernail I want to be the first to know. If I find out one of you took mere minutes to tell me I will have your head on a stick. Blake Widow, Viper and Cap are dangerous to the live of HYDRA.” Rumlow growled.
“Of course Sir.” One of the agents said before leaving to check another part of the area.
“Rumlow!” One of his men called.
“What is it?” Rumlow asked as he joined three of his members looking into a small area just large enough for three people. There was a footprint that was a match to Captain’s shoe size.
“If they survived this would be the place as long as the shield was above.”
“They survived. It’s Captain America.” Rumlow growled not liking it, “They will have injuries, get camera feeds to look for four people with injuries.”
“Of course.”
Rumlow got back on his feet as he surveyed the area for anything that wasn’t upturned. Looking over he noticed there was tracks specifically from a vehicle. His eyes narrowed figuring out that the Captain had stolen a truck.
There was only one person that would have the greatest chance of finding these people and it was time to put him to test against a part of his now very forgotten past.
“Call in the Asset.”
Alexander Pierce was on his way to his kitchen to get a drink giving thought on how he would continue on bringing in Captain America and his followers. He had to make it perfect so he wouldn’t be suspected because he had to have his announcement as part of HYDRA timed right. He had opened his fridge and turned to put the milk on the counter when he noticed a very familiar figure sitting at his table, a gun within reach on the table. He slowly closed the fridge without turning away.
“I’m going to go, Mr. Pierce. Do you need anything before I leave?” Renata, his housekeeper, asked as she placed her bag on her shoulder. She was in the other room.
“N. Uh…it’s fine, Renata, you can go home.” Pierce said not taking his eyes off his guest. “Okay, night-night.”
“Good night. Want some milk?” Pierce asked the man sitting in the dark. The Asset had come to him and not on visiting terms. Alexander walked over to a cupboard to pull out a glass. Unsurprisingly he didn’t receive an answer, “The timetable has moved. Our window is limited. Three targets, level six.”
Pierce poured himself a glass of milk not moving until he took a sip of his drink. Walked over to the table he said down in front of the man many called the Winter Soldier. The Asset, as HYDRA had always called him said silent and motionless as the man he was most in contact with continued to talk.
“They already cost me Zola.” Pierce nearly spat, “I want confide death in ten hours.”
The noise of someone coming into the kitchen unannounced causing the Asset and Pierce to look behind them. Standing there was his housekeeper Renata not noticing the secret meeting going on.
“Sorry, Mr. Pierce, I…I forgot my phone.” She trails off finally noticing the Asset with the atmosphere dangerous and unapologetic.
“Oh, Renata. I wish you would have knocked.” Pierce said almost saddened by the event that had to happen with her now. Picking up the gun with ease and familiarity he aims it towards her. Quickly he shoots her once causing a scream before he does it once more as she falls down.
Forever Tag List
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Supernatural Tag List
@girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @bellastellaluna @nlsupernatural @kitschkylo
Innocent Tag List
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petepepsi · 7 years
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My First Fanfiction (AKA: Why Did I Think of This When I was Nine Years Old What the Heck)
A bit of background first:
When I was in like 3rd/4th/5th grade, Phineas and Ferb was the greatest thing in the entire world (followed by Smash Bros and pumpkin pie, respectively). I loved that show more than anything ever.
During this point in my life, I also discovered ~*~the internet~*~. Once on ~*~the internet~*~, it was rather inevitable that I would look up Phineas and Ferb on Google Image Search.
One glorious day, I found a picture I really liked. So, wanting to get a better look, I clicked on it. It was at that point that I discovered something that would change my life forever.
KictserAsh on Deviantart. AKA imaginashon on tumblr, but little wee baby Skyler didn’t know what Tumblr was (thank god). AKA: Literally the Biggest Inspiration in my Whole Damn Life. (and now they work on mml ain’t that neat)
I went through their ENTIRE Phineas and Ferb gallery, loving every single piece. I also found some of their written work, and oh boy you bet little Skyler LOVED that.
So I read like everything on their account. And those stories inspired me. They still do, actually (and so does their art everything they make is really good you should go look at their blog/gallery please).
So here’s where we get into the fanfiction (adding a readmore b/c this is about the get REALLY LONG)
TW: talk of death, and swearing.
To put this story into EXTREMELY simple terms, the plot goes as follows: (sidenote: characters are like 16 in this) Ferb dies, and Phineas’s friends help him get back on his feet afterwards (along with a more supernatural friend).
Now, you’re probably thinking: “Skyler, that’s not too weird of a fanfiction.”
That’s where you’re wrong, but I’ll get to that later.
You see, the story begins at Ferb’s funeral (loosely inspired by the fact that I had recently gone to a funeral, so this was pretty legit). Very well-described, from what I remember. The family gave little speeches, it was nice.
Then, the next chapter was Phineas at home (alone) in his room at like four in the morning. This was when we found out how Ferb died. It was some kind of industrial accident (a giant machine fell on him yikes). It was the “project of the day” that P and F were working on that caused Ferb to fuckin die. This part I remember the least about when it comes to the specifics, but I do remember reading it over again in 7th grade (before the computer I wrote this on became deader than Ferb) and thinking that the scene sounded “vaguely like someone contemplating suicide, but in a more child-friendly way.”
The next chapter took place about a week later, from the perspective of Phineas’s friends (Baljeet, Buford, Isabella, and Django i don’t know why Django was there instead of any other character shut up) They were all going to visit Phineas, because “he hadn’t left his house in over a week” and, apparently, that was very unlike him. So they go up to the house, and there’s a tiny little description of the backyard, where, I shit you not, I wrote: “There was still blood on the grass.”
So cut to later that chapter, and Phin’s pals are trying to help him out, but he’s having none of it. He locked himself in his room, and won’t talk to anyone (except in depressed sighs).
Here comes the best scene of the whole story.
So during this part, Baljeet is very quiet, and I certainly made sure everyone was aware of that (I was never subtle, but then again I was eight). Eventually, Isabella and them give up, and Baljeet gets fucking piiiiissed. In a shocking display of strength, Baljeet BREAKS DOWN THE DOOR IN A FIT OF RAGE. And that’s where the chapter ends.
I can’t remember what happened in the next chapter (I believe it was some silly ghostly shenanigans with Ferb  even back then, i was a “master of comedy”), but the one after that was where the plot happened.
So, being a fourth grader, I had at this point in my life discovered “Ouija Boards.” And little Skyler thought that was so cool, until her mom told her a really spooky story about Ouija Boards, which deeply traumatized little Skyler. Little Skyler, having no way to express her emotions other than writing, decided to use this terrifying experience and turn it into something “nice.”
So the gang uses a Ouija Board to chat with ghost Ferb (never thought I’d write that sentence), and things go all right for a bit.
Key words: a bit.
So Django and Co. leave, and Phineas is home alone once again. Well… he’s not really alone.
Phin grabs the Ouija Board, and (breaking the ONLY RULE GOD DAMMIT PHIN) uses it alone.
Here is where we meet the coolest motherfucker ever. His name?
I have no idea.
I wrote this a long time ago, and his name must’ve been pretty dumb for me to push it out of my mind like that.
For the sake of convenience, his name is Todd (b/c why not).
Now Todd was my first ever OC. He's a ghost who wishes to return to the human realm. I remember him looking like "a strange eight-foot tall vaguely humanoid figure with four ribbon-like appendages protruding from his back. His body was completely black, aside from his eyes which took on the appearance of glittering rubies. Aside from the eyes, his entire body looked to be made of pen scribbles, like someone had scribbled over a picture of someone they disliked and then transformed it into a 3-D image.“
Now, you’re probably thinking, “How the heck was Todd going to return to the human realm?” Well, according to my made-up ghost rules, all he needed was a willing host. The “host" offers you their soul, and you take it, giving you not only a physical form, but a slave for all of eternity! It’s a pretty swell deal, tbh.
So Todd, posing as Ferb (reminder that poor lil Phin can’t see the Eldritch monstrosity that he’s communicating with), tries to convince Phineas to give him his soul (using very different terms).
It’s sorta like “Oh hey yeah, you’re sad, but you can fix everything. You can save me. Then everything will be normal again.” And Phineas, being the “uwu innocent naïve cinnamon roll” totally believes him.
Phineas is about to accept “Ferb”’s deal, when suddenly - WHOOSH! The lil Ouija disk thing flies out of his hand (and out the window), and the board flies up and slams down against the floor (as if someone threw it down there hint hint), shattering on impact.
Now, Phineas is fucking distraught over this, but instead of exploring that shit, I zoomed on over to the next chapter.
Chapter six seven who gives a fuck, begins before the previous chapter, and takes place from Ferb’s perspective (because I remembered that he was a character who existed).
So Ghost Ferb (Gerb? Fost?) is chillin and thinkin about ghost shit, when he “senses the Ouija Board being activated” (b/c that’s a thing ghosts can do). Ferb, thinking “Phineas what the shit you broke the only fucking rule goddammit,” goes to make sure no other spirits are fucking shit up, when lo and behold…
IT’S TODD
So Ferb doesn’t immediately rush in, he stands outside the door thinking, “Who’s this bloke and what does he think he’s doing? I’m gonna go all medieval on his metaphysical ass.”
Ferb listens to his plan (which he is saying out loud because he’s the bad guy), and thinks “Phineas isn’t gonna fall for this.” Then, he hears Phineas agree and he’s like “WHAT THE FUCK, PHINEAS” and then runs in and using his extremely inconsistent influence on the material world, throws the Ouija disk out the window and smashes the board on the floor.
As one could assume, this makes Todd fuckin pissed. However, instead of beating the shit out of Ghost Ferb (b/c really, what would that accomplish?), he leaves, warning Ferb that “he’d be back.”
then i never continued the story the end
Just kidding. Well, not really.
I never actually continued the story (it was at this point I got kinda out of the PnF fandom and more into video game and stuff), but I did have more stuff planned out. But I literally can’t remember any of that shit. And since the computer I wrote this work of art on died, I can’t exactly look it up. But I don’t wanna leave you like this.
So here we have…
the extra shit that i didn’t put into that long-ass description
Django’s speech on the importance of art. This was just kind of a thing that randomly occurred while the gang was on their way to Phineas’s house.
Ferb’s very inconsistent power over the material realm. I’m not exactly sure where I was trying to go wih this, but basically Ferb had some magic powers that let him interact with the physical world (i.e. knocking over stuff, levitation sometimes, etc.). This is sort of a regular ghost thing, but my story had a neat little twist. Ferb could only use this power at the Flynn-Fletcher household, because it only works at the place the ghost considers “home.”
the stuff i never actually wrote in the story itself
So, before I get started on the story parts of this, I should tell you Todd’s Backstory.
Todd was alive back in modern day. He was like one or two years older than Ferb. When he was younger, he was in some sort of academic competition against Ferb and Ferb won. This caused Todd to hate Ferb with a burning passion, and basically create a grudge so strong that only an extremely stubborn crazy determined teenager could hold it.
About a year or so before the story takes place, Todd died in a car accident after a distracting “beam from the sky” caused him to drive into oncoming traffic (It was highly implied that the beam was from one of Phineas and Ferb’s machines can’t believe phineas has a fuckin body count). It is revealed that (using the powers of “evil ghostly revenge”) HE caused the machine to fall on Ferb, and now he plans on getting revenge for Ferb beating him in all those academic competitions.
And yeah, that’s it. My first fanfiction. Hope y'all enjoyed this trip through my eight/ten year old psyche.
7 notes · View notes
craft-rose · 7 years
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anomaly (pt. 4)
18+ 
Title: anomaly
Pairing: Reader + Jungkook
Rated: M (for coarse language, graphic violence and explicitly sexual themes)
Type: Covenant!AU
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
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The second he slid his key into the lock, the gentle click of the mechanism reverberating between two of you and the front door of his massive house, you rocked back on the heels of your shoes, a tense knot in your gut.
Jungkook held the door open, glancing back at you as he entered. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, obvious to the rapid beats of your heart as he looked to you, waiting.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, quickly parting your lips to speak. They were flaky and dry, the moisture having escaped your body earlier, when you were sprawled on the sidewalk in a fit of shock and tears.
“The other members …” You began, the colour draining from your cheeks. “They won’t mind that you’ve brought me here, will they?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, almost amused at your concern. “What, have you never snuck into a boy’s house before?”
Your stomach flipped. “Uh, no. Is that a thing people do past the age of seventeen?”
“When you’re an idol and you live in a house with six other guys, one of whom who’s always on your case, yes,” Jungkook answered, holding his hand out to you. “It’s most definitely ‘a thing’.”
You glanced down at his hand, surprised to find that it was in a less than perfect state. His fingers were long and slender, and his nails were in nice shape, not too long, but he had a few cuts along his knuckles, as if he’d been in a fight of some sort. Suddenly remembering what he had told you about duking it out with Cameron in the café, you felt your stomach drop.
He’s hurt.
Thoughts in disarray, you accepted the hand he had offered to you, startled by how cold he felt as he helped you inside.
“You’re freezing …” You whispered to him, without thinking.
He clapped his other hand over your mouth, shooting a look to either side of the foyer as if he were a guard dog, trained to be on high alert. Without a word, he took his hand away, using his left index finger to motion for you to be quiet.
You obeyed, wheeling a look around the entryway of his house as he checked around the corner to make sure the coast was clear.
There were all sorts of shoes and coats and hats and umbrellas piled around in various corners. It was plainly obvious that you had entered the home of seven young men. Your apartment wasn’t exactly the tidiest place on earth, but it may as well have been a medical office compared to the BTS house. In all fairness they were probably too busy to clean. Even jogging their in the middle of night, there were BTS advertisements plastered everywhere in the city.
Only then did you come to terms with where you were and who lived there.
Jungkook came tiptoeing back just in time, nodding his head to the hallway, motioning for you to follow. You quickly slipped off your shoes, holding them in one hand before tiptoeing behind the young idol. He was a couple of years younger than you, and he certainly looked and acted like it, but he was also quite tall. You raced to keep up with his long strides, heart clenching fiercely as you heard the low rhythm of music echoing out from one of the bedrooms around the corner.
It was only as Jungkook halted you with one arm, that you glanced down, realizing you were still wearing his jacket. That’s why he’s so cold. Cheeks prickling with embarrassment, you forcefully shifted your attention back up, looking to Jungkook as he waved you forward a step, to where he was standing.
Suddenly attuned to the muffled voices, footsteps and rumbling melodies which poured in from nearly every direction of the house, you felt a twitch of nervousness in your gut, but you stepped forward nonetheless.
Your nostrils were quickly filled with the fresh scent of his cologne, and you instinctively closed your eyes, throat constricting just a bit as he leaned down to your right ear, his breath warm and minty.
“Listen, OP, Seokjin is in the kitchen right now, making something to eat. Any second now, he’s going to come out and see us,” he whispered, lifting his head to make sure everyone was exactly where he thought they were and then leaning towards you again soon after. “I’m going to create a diversion before that can happen, and when I do, I want you to run as fast as you can to the door at the end of this hallway and hide in that room. No one will look in there. We have an early schedule in the morning. I’ll sneak you out before they wake up. But you have to move fast … okay?”
You gave him your undivided attention, nodding despite the anxious twitches in your stomach.
Before he was able to reiterate the importance that everything went to plan, the weighted rhythm of footsteps against hardwood caught his attention. There was light trailing into the hallway from the kitchen, and the second it was flicked off, Jungkook left your side, dashing around the corner as you dashed forward.
Within that same moment, you found the door at the end of the hallway, and you slipped through it, soundlessly, the distant hum of conversation filling your ears as Jungkook distracted the eldest member of the group. For a brief moment you listened, immersed in total darkness with your ear pressed to the door.
As the voices drowned out, you leaned away from the door, quickly locating the light switch in the room. With one flick, your surroundings were revealed to you in the pale white glow of the bulb.
The walls were plain white, and the furniture, which consisted of a queen-size bed, a desk and a chair, was made of wood and coloured in a light, oak stain. You figured he had directed you into the guest bedroom. Granted, it wasn’t the most secretive of places but it appeared to be relatively comfortable.
With one look at the bed, the pale blue covers of which appeared soft, warm and freshly washed, you felt the fatigue wear down on you all at once.
You had gone from working on a school assignment, to clubbing, to nearly getting yourself killed in your aunt’s café, to this. Somehow, sneaking into the BTS house had been the least concerning thing you had done that night.
Suddenly exhausted, you nearly missed the click of the door as Jungkook ducked inside.
“Hey … sorry for taking so long,” he said to you quietly, causing you to jump out of your skin in shock as you spun around.
Heart beating fast, you just about forgot where you were. “I-it’s okay,” You uttered, turning away to hide the embarrassed flush of your cheeks. “So, is this where I’m going to stay tonight?”
Ignoring your little outburst, Jungkook nodded. “This used to be our manager’s room, but he’s on paternity leave so no one really uses this space anymore. Sometimes the older members bring their dates here but we’re promoting right now. No time for ... stuff.”
You followed along, glancing to the door as the sound of footsteps echoed in from the hallway. “You’re absolutely sure no one will think to look in here?”
Jungkook nodded. “Positive.” Shifting a look down at your attire, the light bulb in his head had abruptly turned on. “Oh, right. You need clothes to sleep in. I’ll be right b —”
“Wait,” You interjected perhaps a little too loudly. He released the doorknob, looking to you with question marks in his dark brown eyes. Briefly losing your train of thought, you spared a second to think. “I … I know you said I was in danger, and that I probably shouldn’t go home tonight because of that, and I believe you, but … surely I should warn my roommate. What if Cameron goes to the apartment looking for me? What if he goes to my aunt’s place? Sh-she has a newborn baby. If anyone is harmed because of me, I-I —”
“Breathe,” Jungkook instructed, swiftly. “It’s important that you keep calm.”
The rapid beats of your heart only grew faster, harder. “But — but —”
“You can’t overwhelm yourself or you’re only going to faint again … or worse,” he furthered, as if referring to what happened back at the café, the way you slammed Cameron down to the floor using strength you didn’t know you had.
Plagued by the mental image of him motionless, a pool of crimson under his head, you felt your stomach lurch and your forehead begin to drip sweat.
“What’s happening to me?” You asked, glancing ahead at Jungkook.
Hovering less than a foot away from you, he extended both his hands, palm up, as if inviting you to place yours on top.
On instinct you accepted his hands, surprised to find them warm now, almost comforting.
Slowly, he intertwined your fingers with his, and he breathed in, releasing every intake with you, gradually calming you. Your eyelids soon fell shut, and you suddenly felt as if you were sleeping … dreaming.
There was a forest — trees as high as the clouds, grass as green as you had ever seen, and a small cabin. For whatever reason, you felt as if you had been there before but you knew that not to be the case. When you went camping as a kid, you had only ever slept in tents. Never a cabin. You knew you were only imagining it, conceiving it with your mind, but it felt so real, as though you could smell the freshness in the air if you breathed in hard enough, as though you could physically reach out and touch the trees, the grass, and the tiny brass doorknob leading into the cabin.
The second you thought to try, you felt your stomach clench and your heart begin to pound, fast and hard, your body frozen in shock as the cabin burst into bright, violent flames. Shaking from the inside out, you squeezed your fists, and you were startled as Jungkook squeezed back.
Suddenly, as if waking up from the depths of a nightmare, your eyes shot open and you sucked in a lungful of air, Jungkook standing right there in front of you, looking at you as though he knew exactly what you had just seen … as though he had seen the same thing in the same way, perhaps at the same exact time.
On instinct you tore your hands, backing away from him. “What the hell did you do to me?” You demanded, quietly as to not be heard by anyone but him, your eyes the size of slits, pooling with a blend of fear and uncertainty.
To your surprise, Jungkook kept his distance, acutely aware of how delicate of a situation the two of you had landed yourselves in.
“It wasn’t just me,” he explained, looking to you calmly but firmly. “It was you, too.”
“What are you talking about?” You blurted, raising your voice a little higher. “A-all of this weird stuff has been happening and it all started when I saw you on the train the other night. What  are you?” You felt your chest contract at Jungkook stepped forward, probably to get you to be quiet. Before he could say or do anything, you backed up again, peeling your lips apart to continue. “What the fuck do you WANT? Better yet, why have you been following m —” Bumping into the bed, your body froze, this time for real, and your eyes flew wide open as Jungkook raced forward, clapping his hand over your mouth, again.
“Shut up,” he interjected, clearly afraid of getting caught by the other members. With one glance at the door to make sure the coast was clear, he shifted his gaze back to you, the fear in his eyes only partially melting away. “Just shut up for a second and listen.”
You were in no position to argue, nor to do anything other than stand there, his hand clasped over your mouth, hoping he wasn’t going to flip a switch on you like Cameron.
Sensing your trepidation, Jungkook hesitantly released you, but he was still very close, his every breath tickling your little baby hairs.
“That cabin you saw,” he began. “It exists in the real world. I’ll take you there to prove it.”
You felt your chest rise and fall inside your clothes as you tried to inhale and exhale, calming the tense, anxious twitch in your gut. “How do you know what I saw?”
There was an empty, the distant winds outside filling the silence before he tentatively spoke.
“I know because I’ve seen it, too. As have the other members,” the young idol explained, sparing a moment afterward, as if waiting for you to freak out again. When you didn’t, he carried on. “It-it was where our parents used to meet. It was where they used to practice.”
“Practice …” You whispered back, distantly, question marks in your eyes. “Practice what?”
Jungkook chewed his bottom lip, contemplating how to say the rest, as if he, himself had trouble believing it sometimes. “You know how you slammed Cameron down to the floor with strength you didn’t know you had?” he asked, earning a single nod from you. “That’s the sort of thing our parents used to practice in that cabin. Strength, speed, agility, everything there is that makes us who we are. Granted, you’re kind of a late bloomer, but I can probably teach you the basics if we started s —”
“My parents are dead.”
The words slipped through your lips so quickly, you had to consciously remind yourself they had actually come out, they weren’t just a thought.
“Whoever — whatever — you think I am, you have the wrong person,” You uttered to him. “My parents have been dead for almost my entire life. They’ve never been to that cabin, and what happened to Cameron was an accident. In fact I-I should have called the police on the spot. I-I could have saved him if I had just called the am —”
“Y/N, please, just listen to me. I know this all sounds crazy, but I’m telling the truth. You’re bound by the covenant, just like me, and it sucks, but if you keep letting your powers fly off unhinged, you’re going to hurt y—”
“The ‘covenant’? What the fuck are you talking about? What are you SAYING?”
“It’ll all make sense once I take you to the cott —”
“No, no, you need to STOP this right now! You’re not taking me ANYWHERE!” You shouted, having had enough of the crazy talk, shoving past him as you raced to the door.
Without a word, Jungkook chased after you, grabbing you by the wrists and spinning you around just as your fingertips grazed the doorknob. The back of your head thumped against the door and for a brief moment you felt dizzy, shaken and out of breath. You slowly came to, Jungkook’s tall outline filling your senses as he hovered a few inches away from you.
“If you leave now, you’re only going to get yourself killed,” he voiced to you plainly, clearly, as if he were speaking the concrete truth. “I’ve already chased after you once. I won’t do it again. Walk through that door and your fate will be in your hands and yours alone.”
You could see that he was serious, that he wasn’t just fucking with you, that for some reason he truly believed your life was in danger.
And yet, the second he released you, the cool air of separation ghosting over your naked wrists, you did exactly as he instructed you not to and you walked through that door, crossing paths with no one as you quietly ducked out the house with his jacket still on.
Yoongi slid a finger between the blinds, watching as the girl from the café jogged down the long, empty driveway, across the street and out of sight. Deep down he knew Jungkook had been onto something the other night, when he had called saying he saw a strange girl on the train. As much as Yoongi would have liked to confirm the suspicions, he knew he couldn’t. He knew Jungkook was better off not knowing, hopefully forgetting this girl and what she represented.
Unfortunately, they were past that point now. He had followed Jungkook out of the house, and he had seen everything he needed to see in order to know … she was one of them.
The eighth.
The missing piece to the puzzle.
The one that should have fit, but didn’t.
213 notes · View notes
devon-kelley · 7 years
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Charlie Hunnam Starved Himself on 400 Calories a Day For His Latest Role
Gym rats and couch potatoes can agree on one thing: when it comes to losing weight, it’s no walk in the park. Hollywood actors regularly endure this daunting task when they’re forced to shrink their already perfectly fit bodies down to nothingness for roles, then snap back to their healthy forms as quickly as is humanly possible.
Charlie Hunnam is the latest victim of forced weight loss for his role in Lost City of Z, which opens Friday. Hunnam’s character is an early 20th century British explorer who makes three treks through the Amazon in search of an ancient indigenous city, and he and his costars Robert Pattinson and Edward Ashley were each required to lose about 35 pounds to demonstrate the hardship of their characters.
“We were starving, and it was incredibly humid and hot, so we didn’t have to imagine too much of the hardship those guys were enduring,” Hunnam told Yahoo Movies, saying he consumed between 400 and 500 calories a day. “On the last film that I did (a remake of the 1973 prison escape drama Papillon), I just had to lose a lot of weight again, and that was by myself,” Hunnam said. “I really missed the camaraderie of losing it with the guys.
“There was a sense that we were in it together. But then also on the underside of it, a little bit of competition… [We’d] be very suspicious of each other. When Robert would be going off and walking away, I’d have a tendency to be watching him wherever he went just to see if he was like, going off into the jungle to smuggle a quick banana or something. So we kept each other honest.”
Click through to see the extreme measures that 18 stars were willing to take for the right role.
Read more from Yahoo Beauty + Style:
Charlie Hunnam's 'Lost City of Z' Diet: 400 Calories a Day
Empire Star Gabourey Sidibe Opens Up About Her Weight Loss and Body-Image Issues
The Surprisingly Body-Positive Reason That Mama June Went From a Size 18 to Size 4
Follow us on Instagram, Facebook, and Pinterest for nonstop inspiration delivered fresh to your feed, every day. For Twitter updates, follow @YahooStyle and@YahooBeauty.
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Charlie Hunnam
Hunnam lost some 35 pounds for his role in Lost City of Z, in which he plays an early 20th century British Explorer trekking thrice through the Amazon in search of an ancient city.  “We were starving, and it was incredibly humid and hot, so we didn’t have to imagine too much of the hardship those guys were enduring,” Hunnam told Yahoo Movies, saying he consumed between 400 and 500 calories a day. He found it easier to lose weight for this film than his last, Papillon, because he did it alongside costars Robert Pattinson and Edward Ashley. “There was a sense that we were in it together. But then also on the underside of it, a little bit of competition… So we kept each other honest.”
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Adam Driver
Driver said that his extreme weight loss was helpful to his “process” as an actor while playing a 17th century Jesuit Priest alongside Andrew Garfield in Martin Scorsese’s Silence. "You’re so hungry and so tired at some points that there’s nothing you can do — you’re not adding anything on top of what you’re doing. You only have enough energy to convey what you’re doing, so it’s great," Driver told Interview Magazine. "I can't control what's happening in scenes, but I could control when I ate food. And that visual part of the storytelling, I don't think I've ever taken it to the extreme before." (Photos: Paramount Pictures/Getty Images)
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Liam Hemsworth
“I didn’t eat for weeks,” the 26-year-old told E! News of his latest role in The Dressmaker. “I could actually hear his stomach growling,” his co-star, Kate Winslet, added. Hemsworth admitted that getting used to a new body isn’t easy. “I did some pushups in my trailer,” he said. “Anytime you’re going to come out and take your top off, it’s good to do a couple of pushups… It’s very difficult to come out and just take your clothes off.” (Photos: Everett/Universal Pictures)
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Matt Damon in Courage Under Fire
in a Reddit ask me anything, Matt Damon laid out the exceptional difficulty of extreme weight loss and yoyo dieting (that pretty much comes with the territory of winning an Oscar). “I think the most challenging role that I've ever had was when I did Courage Under Fire and I had to lose all the weight that I lost on my own, that was the most physically challenging [thing] I've ever had to do in my life,” Damon wrote. “I weigh probably 190 pounds right now, and I weighed 139 in that movie, and that is not a natural weight for me and not a happy weight for me even when I was 25. So, you know, to do that I had to run about 13 miles a day, which wasn't even the hard part. The hard part was the diet. All I ate was chicken breast. It's not like I had a chef or anything, I just made it up and did what I thought I had to do. I just made it up and that was incredibly challenging.” (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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Beyonce in Dreamgirls
To prep for her role as Deena in Dreamgirls, Beyoncé lost 20 pounds on her own accord. "I figured in the '60s Twiggy was the hot model, and Diana [Ross] and Cher and all the legends were thinner than I am," she told Oprah. "So I decided I wanted to lose weight and make a physical transformation. And it was difficult because I love food. I love to eat. I did a fast—a master cleanser for 14 days. Everybody was eating Krispy Kremes around me. I was grouchy, but I did it and I lost the weight." (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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Emily Blunt in The Devil Wears Prada
Emily Blunt shed a few pounds for her role in The Devil Wears Prada, but she doesn’t want young girls to think they should look like she did in the film. “I am from a family of thin children, so I have always been OK with that. I’ve only lost weight for The Devil Wears Prada and that was because my character was supposed to be on the edge of anorexia,” she told Parade. “But I think the pressure is so huge on young girls right now to lose weight and it needs to diminish. It is becoming worrying how many super thin girls we see walking around, and they are so obviously ill. It is kind of accepted and it is glamorized more than it should be.” (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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Chris Hemsworth in Lost at Sea
"Just tried a new diet/training program called 'Lost At Sea.' Wouldn't recommend it,” Hemsworth tweeted. He detailed his staggering weight loss in an interview with Men’s Health. “We couldn't go away for a month and get skinny, we had to do it while we were shooting,' he says. 'At one point, a day's rations were a boiled egg, a couple of crackers and a celery stick.” Hemsworth happily got back to his brolic Thor figure after filming was over. “To get back to looking like Thor is simple: I get in the gym and work out,” he says. “I enjoy it. It keeps me fit and healthy. I've got to eat more calories – certain types and all clean – and it can get boring eating chicken breast and rice and so on. But at least you're fed properly.” (Photos: Instagram/Getty)
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Amanda Seyfried in Chloe
Seyfried slimmed down for her role as an expensive call girl. "I'm on a raw-food diet," she told Esquire. "It's intense. And sort of awful. Yesterday for lunch? Spinach. Just spinach. Spinach and some seeds." But to her, Hollywood’s pressure to be thin is nothing more than doing her job. “I looked way better when I was 15," Seyfried told Ellen DeGeneres. "I had huge breasts, and then I came to Hollywood and I was like 'I got to lose weight. I got to look thin and fit,' and I lost them a little bit. They were quite uncomfortable, but they look beautiful. I was feminine. I had some nice curves and I think that we should really appreciate that as opposed to trying to get rid of everything." (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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Christian Bale in The Machinist
Christian Bale famously dropped more than 60 pounds for his role in The Machinist, weighing in at a staggering 122 lbs at 6 feet tall. “The writer is only about five-foot-six, and he put his own weights in,” Bale’s co-star Michael Ironside told Huffington Post of the mixup in the weight Bale was expected to meet. “And then Chris did the film and Chris said, ‘No, don’t change the weights. I want to see if I make them.’ ... So those weights he writes on the bathroom wall in the film are his actual weights in the film.” (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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Anne Hathaway in Les Miserables
To portray a dying prostitute in Les Mis, Anne Hathaway had to shed the muscle she put on for her role as Catwoman and drop 25 pounds in merely a month. “I lost the first 10 (pounds) in three weeks through a detox and then I lost the subsequent 15 in 14 days by doing food deprivation and exercise, which I don’t recommend,” she told SF Gate. “I know when I was a teenage girl … I would try crazy things and I do not recommend anyone do this at all. I was under the supervision of a nutritionist and I had a doctor monitoring me, but it’s not fun. You can be too thin.” (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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Tom Hanks in Castaway
Hanks shed 50 pounds to portray a character stuck on a deserted island, and he looked to his character’s surroundings for a painfully realistic weight loss. ”You know coconuts? Think you can eat a lot of coconuts? Well, let me tell you, it’s a natural laxative,” he told Entertainment Weekly. “So just put two and two together there. Take a coconut, drink all the milk out of it, and then eat all the insides, and you tell me how you feel after an hour and a half…” (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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Mila Kunis in Black Swan
"I had to look skinny in order to look like a ballerina," she said on a SiriusXM interview with Howard Stern. "You fake it. So, the best way to fake it is to unfortunately look like it." Kunis weighed in at 95lbs during the film and trained in ballet for three months to fake it as best she could. "I never watched what I ate [before]. It was one of those things, for the first time in my life, I got a food delivery service," she said. "And I'll tell you this, I'm not promoting this at all, but I used to be a smoker, and so I smoked a lot of cigarettes and I ate a limited amount of calories. 1,200 calories and I smoked. I don't advocate this at all. It was awful.” (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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Natalie Portman in Black Swan
Natalie Portman lost 20 pounds over six months on a 1,200 calorie vegan diet for her role as Nina. "At a certain point I looked at [Natalie's] back and she was so skinny and so cut — I was like, 'Natalie, start eating,' I made sure she had a bunch of food in her trailer,” director Darren Aronofsky told Popsugar. (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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50 Cent in Things Fall Apart
To play his best friend who died of cancer, 50 Cent dropped from 214 pounds to 160 in nine weeks following a liquid diet and running on a treadmill three hours a day. It was an emotional process for him, and not an entirely unfamiliar one. When he was shot in the jaw in 2000, he could only drink liquids and his weight plummeted to 157. “This time it was a lot tougher for me,” he told AP. “I had to discipline myself not ... to actually have myself be in the physical state to convey the energy I felt. It’s a passion project for me.” (Photos: Instagram/Getty)
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Rooney Mara in The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
To play the “pale, anorexic” Lisbeth Salander, Mara kickboxed with a trainer. She didn’t discuss her diet, but an interview with Vogue made it seem like eating, or lack thereof, played a significant role in preparing for the film. “’You can eat.’ I look up to see her reaction. Mara rolls her eyes, and Fincher laughs. ‘You can have lettuce and a grape. A raisin if you must.’ She orders a piece of fish and barely touches it…  I ask if she had to get unhealthily skinny for the role. She says, ‘Umm . . . not really.’ ‘It hasn’t been too hard for her,’ Fincher quickly adds.” (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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Jared Leto in The Dallas Buyers Club
To play a trans AIDS sufferer, Leto lost 38 pounds. “I got down to 116 or something. I just basically didn't eat. I ate very little,” he told E Online. “I had done similar things with weight, but this was different, I think the role demanded that commitment... It was about how does that effect how I walk, how I talked, who I am, how I feel. You know, you feel very fragile and delicate and unsafe.” The role took a major toll on his health. “Your organs [and] muscles shrink, your organs shrink [and] my stomach has shrunk as well. I'm doing cardio but I'll tell you what, the more I've learned is - and I think it comes with age too - is it's 90 percent diet. It's a matter of how much I eat or how little I eat.” (Photos: Splash/Getty)
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Matthew McConnaughey in The Dallas Buyer’s Club
McConnaughey’s character was also a victim of AIDS, and he lost 50lbs for the role. He consulted the shapeshifting master, Tom Hanks, as well as a nutritionist before embarking on his weight loss. Starting at 185lbs, he thought he would stop at 145, but he didn’t feel it was enough. "I was going around and people were going, 'Hey, are you feeling all right?" McConaughey told People of reaching his initial goal. "But then I hit 135 lbs. I ran in to somebody and they didn't just ask if I was all right, they said, 'My God, we need to get you some help.' And I thought, 'There we go. That's the perfect spot.' " He ate good foods, but not much of them and found himself “uncontainable with energy,” needing to sleep three hours less each night. “I found through this journey that the human body is much more resilient than we give it credit for.” (Photos: Splash/Getty)
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Jennifer Hudson in Winnie Mandela
Jennifer Hudson starred as Winnie Mandela and went from a size 16 to a 6 for the role. "Whatever it takes to morph into a character I'll do it,” she told People. “I’m in the best shape of my life!” Hudson enlisted the help of celebrity trainer Harley Pasternak, and got her start on Weight Watchers. (Photos: Everett/Getty)
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darkredehmption · 7 years
Text
Mr Nice Guy
Zsadist: [I could hear my heartbeat. It was loud. Bumping in my ear like it was on surround sound. It got faster and louder. Was this it? All I remembered was darkness. Pain and darkness. Memory of this women cradling a baby. Who was she? Who was the baby. It all seemed so strange. Gasping loudly as my golden eyes open. Swallowing thickly as I feel a lump in my throat. Looking around before I barely hear something. Blinking a few times as I look up and see a figure in front of me blocking my view. My skin crawled as I felt that biological clock ticking to tell me the sun was going to rise shortly. Yes I was a vampire and needed to be inside. Fuck. Shifting up I hiss in pain then reaches for the male. With a confused look I stare at him] I’m sorry Sir...I don’t know what is going on...or even who I am I just need help. [Grits my teeth as I feel a rush of pain. I was hurt. When did I get hurt? Scribe everything was a blur to me. Rolling onto my stomach, I press my forehead to the cold asphalt. Taking in a gasp of air before I push up onto all fours. Hanging my head between my shoulders I get a few breaths in before I shift up to my knees. My hand reaches out to the figure and I come in contact with a leather covered thigh. I grip the slick material and try to get some balance. Holding myself up before I murmur] Please…
Vishous:
It was a slow as fuck night. Even the calls coming into the Manse were pretty much null and void tonight. I wasn't on rotation tonight and I had spent the majority of my night going over some video feed at various properties and running checks. I was grumbling when I went to take another drink from my bottle of Goose and realized the fucker was empty. “Yeah, I can't handle this boring shit to where I don't even know when I am running dry...” Morning was fast approaching and I was wide awake. That was a usual for me. Sleep was not a close friend of mine. Before getting up from my desk I gave a one last look at the Brother's garage and took stock of what cars were parked securely in the underground structure. All of them were accounted for except for the ones that I knew would not be in resident...Except for Z's. My phone was in my hand without even a thought and I was sending a text to my brother. The big ball of light in the sky was going to make an appearance way too soon and with that in mind, I only gave Z a five minute response time before I was bailing out through the double ceiling to floor patio doors of my Penthouse and demating to the location of Z's phone Gps system. Yeah I wasn't taking any chances and I hoped like fuck I was overeating. But that thought only lasted long enough for me to come to form. I had my brothers whereabouts pinpointed to within feet of him and as I stood there looking down at the bloody confused mess of Z, I was fuming with rage from the inside out. There was no time to waste on scouting out who left him like this. This was truly a retrieve and get the fuck out of dodge situation. Although my tatted brow was raised to my hairline as I listened to the clearly confused Z. “Alright man, let your brother, V do what I do best and you don't worry... Let's get you out of here and behind closed doors first and we can sort the rest out after that.” I crouched down, getting level with him and offering a hand. With the clear confusion going on within Z's mind, I didn't want to wig him the fuck out anymore than he was right now. I took a second to glance around me and thank fuck I saw his car safely parked at the opening of the alleyway. I was banking on that fucker being here and if it wasn't then I would just borrow another vehicle that was close. I turned my attention back to Z and gave a small nod. “You good to let me help you up so we can blow this pop-stand or am I going caveman style and tossing your bloody ass, over my shoulder?”
Zsadist: [My golden eyes went wide. He was my brother? How in the hell did I not recognize my own brother. Z huh. That's my name. Just...Z. Well that is kinda odd. When he moves down to my level I tilt my head to take in his diamond colored eyes before noticing the tattoo on his temple] Hey, what's that mean? [I reach a hand up to touch the ink then blinks and pulls back when I see blood now smeared on my so called brother’s face. Closing my eyes I murmur a sorry. Things slowed down again and I was starting to see that darkness. Finding some sort of strength, I open my eyes and looks around then focuses back on my brother...Um V? What is it and these letter names. I must ask our mother why she wanted to name us after the alphabet. Trying to push myself up I feel my legs shake, squeezing my eyes shut] I do apologize I...can't seem to move. It hurts V. Everything hurts [Reaching up to rub at my temple before my eyes barely focus on my brother]
V:
I was crouched down in front of my Brother, looking at him with a clear stupefied expression on my face. From the second he opened his mouth, I knew things were clearly fucked up but what drove it home was Z reaching up to touch the cursed ancient wording inked on my skin. It was natural instinct that had me drawing back some. I was able to shove that action out of the way when once again my Brother was throwing out yet another apology. “Alright man, you are weirding me out with all these 'I'm sorry's'.” I couldn't help but snort out a dry laugh when Z mentioned 'Our mother'. “Yeah, lets just say the bitch has a twisted way of fucking with her offspring's and leave it at that.” My last question had been answered and I went straight into action. Of course waiting around wasn't an option with the still constant threat of daylight hovering. I tried to be easy as I picked my over six foot tall brother up and slung him over my shoulder. I made it down the broken pavement to his car and with a trick a the mind I had the doors unlocked and opening. I wasn't the best at being all gentle but I tried like a fucker to be as I deposited Z in the passenger seat. At this point I had no clue what the physical damage was so it was imperative to not jar him around too much. After I got him situated I slid in behind the driver's side and had us out on the road while I manipulated every traffic light on our way to the outskirt of Caldwell. “Sit tight, man. We will be safely back at the Manse and I can see what the fuck is going on with you.”  
Zsadist: [When he lifts me up I grip onto his shoulders and cries out softly in pain. Fuck I didn't realize how bad it was until we started to move. Once I'm set inside the car I lean back against the warm leather seat. My vision blurs then fades to darkness. Images in my head of the women and the baby again fill my head. The images get dark and she is covered in blood then vanishes to nothing. I jolt up in the seat and let's out a strangled cry. Panting as I look around, holding my gaze on you as I slowly frown] V what happened to her? Did she die? [Putting my head in my hands, fingers clawing at my skull trim before I try to relax. My hands pat my blood soaked t-shirt then I feel my fingers hit something cool. I part my leather jacket and grabs onto a hilt of a blade. Slowly I pull out the black dagger and twirls it in front of me] Whoa…[Puts it back] Do we kill people V? [Blinks at the image of the woman and panic shows in my face] Oh...do we kill women? [Frowns deeper and grabs your arm] Please don't tell me we do that.
V:
As I sped through the streets of Caldwell, I would cast glances at my passenger. That probably wasn't my best decision because by the time we reached the safety of the Manse's garage, I was full on frowning and wondering WTF. I cut the engine, left the keys in the ignition, knowing that the car will be taken care of probably minutes after we depart it. I scrubbed a hand down over my face. It really sucked being clueless as fuck about what exactly went down with Z out on the street tonight. And I fucking hated being at such a gaping disadvantage. I got out of the car, snagged one of the many wheelchairs that were kept down here for reasons just like this. When I came around to the Z's side, the door eases open of it's own accord and I bent down to help my Brother slide as easily as he could from the car to the chair. I patted Z's shoulder and started heading down the long corridor of the tunnels. “How about before I go confusing you further with answers that I think will not make much sense to you at the moment, we start with you telling me what you know. Deal?”
Zsadist: [Magically a huge mansion fit for a king appears in front of me. Blinking for a moment as i’m caught off guard but just goes along with what my brother is saying. After we park you help me into a wheelchair then take off in some direction. My head was turning every which way about to ask questions when I remember that's not what you wanted. Clutching my side as I lean back and closes my eyes] Well. When I woke everything seemed so hazy but there was this feeling that was telling me to get inside. We are vampires right, my brother? [Tips head back and looks at you then drops it forward] I suppose I was out fighting. Fighting what I hope not to be women. I would never want to hurt a female. [Frowns and shakes my head] That would be just awful. [Staring down the long hallway before I continue] I…[Tried to think of more but shakes my head] I don’t know anything else. I know you are my brother, but you told me that yourself.  [Places my bloody hands on my head and feels every emotion wash over me. Like they were all coming out for the very first time. Feeling something wet on my face I sniff then closes my eyes tightly. Whatever this world was, whoever I was, I wasn’t sure that I liked it. Maybe back there I was suppose to die. Did I do this to myself?]
V:
I took a sharp turn at the end of the hall, passed the main gym and hooked another turn into the PT suites. With each step, my tatted brow cocked more as I listened to Z. It was a good thing we had reached our destination when I heard my brother go all soft on the talk about females because I was pretty sure if I had still be walking, I would have easily tripped over my own feet. I shook my head, let go of the handles on the wheelchair and stepped around to look Z straight in his eyes. “Yes, you are correct, we are those beings that dwell in the dark hours only. So no thinking you can go out and sunbathe in the early morning rays. Deal?” I nodded over to the stretcher that was pressed up against the side wall. “You good to get yourself on it without landing on your ass?” I straightened back up and shook my head. “No, we do not go out looking for defenseless females to beat up on. So yeah, I can guarantee that you were not out there tit punching some woman. Feel me?” My arms crossed over my chest and I was ready to dole out a lecture if Z was still going on about whipping around some girls but instead I was faced with a much more intense reaction. And I was a fish out of water in figuring out what to do. “Dude, I swear you didn’t take anyone down that didn’t deserve it!”
Z: [Wipes at my eyes then nods before I shift up in the wheelchair. With shaky legs I move and does my best to get onto the stretcher. After taking me a few tries I manage to get on and rolls with a groan as I turn on my back. Laying there I look at the ceiling as I try to place things together. Hoping that it would all come rushing back to me, but it wasn't. I was so lost and didn't like the feeling of not knowing anything. Hell this could all be a dream. Or you could be not who you said you were. I mean did we even look like brothers. What the hell did I even look like? A shaky hand reaches up and I place it on my face. Feeling a scar there I trace it slowly. It started at my eyebrow and moved all the way down my face like the letter S ending at my upper lip. My brows knit together. Who did this to me? Did I do this to myself? My breathing comes in hard pants and I felt like I wasn't getting air. I shake then closes my eyes and feels more warm tears run down my cheeks. Parting my lips in a shaky breath before I speak] What happened to me? Was this from fighting? [Looking over at you. The male that was my brother. My eyes scan your face, your arms, any visible skin. Where were your scars? Why was I the only one so fucked up?]
V:
Dealing with the unexpected and taking care of the impossible is what we as Brothers did on a nightly basis. But nothing quite prepares you for seeing your own taken down to such a low place. Z was a hardass, cold to the point of almost being void of certain emotions but right now, I was watching him physically and mentally experience every range of those dreaded emotions. I pulled the cap off my head, dropped it on the counter nearest to me and let my eerie diamond eye be visible, as well as the ink cursed language bordering my brow. “I can not tell you exactly what went down tonight. All I can say, is we will get you patched up and slowly figure shit out.” I turned my back on Z only long enough to gather the equipment that I would need and I came right back. “This was definitely from battling.” I randomly talked as I went about cutting his clothes away from the obvious places that needed attending to and worked on them. “But that is what we do. It's the best fucking job in the world and you and I live for this shit.” A dry laugh filled the too quiet space while I did some handy stitch work. “Right now, your brain is fucked. Stop trying to force it and take the rest of this evening to rest. At the end of things, we will figure out what is up and how to proceed next.” I knotted the last stitch, cleaned the area again and have a nod at my brother. “You feel me, brother?”
Z: [I watched as you took off the baseball cap that you were wearing. My eyes zero in on the tattoo that was by your eye. And speaking of eyes, yours were like diamonds. Whoa. Studying the foreign language on your temple before dropping my head to watch as you patch up my wounds. Closing my eyes as I lay back on the stretcher and tries to do just what you told me to do, rest. Listening to your words, letting the sound of your voice soothe me. I lived for this huh? Once I felt your hands stop as you finish patching me up, I reach out until my hand comes in contact with yours] Thank you for finding me tonight. I don't know what I would do if you weren't here to help me brother. I'm in debt to you and will repay you, somehow. [Shifting on my side, I take up that offer to get some rest. My eyes fall shut again, they felt so heavy. Soon I was drifting off wondering if I would remember anything when I woke. Would I ever get my memory back?]
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