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chrysalispen · 4 years

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apilado

yeah i’m not even going to preface this, it’s literally porn with fluff, because i wasn’t going to let valentione’s pass without nero/aurelia smut LMAO

NSFW under the cut.

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The sun hung low in the western sky when the Warrior of Light arrived at her home in the Beds.

The house was empty when she let herself inside, but the scents of cooking wafted into her nose as soon as she opened the door: meat, gravy, fresh-baked bread. Aurelia unfastened the simple clasps and buckles that bound her gunblade to her back and set it carefully by the front door alongside her cane, then removed her heavy gloves and outer utility belt to stretch her spine like a cat’s, yawning and wincing as her shoulders popped.

There wasn’t anyone in the kitchen, but there was a loaf of crusty bread recently baked. It sat in a basket on the small lip of countertop next to the stove, where a stewpot simmered.

“So much for surprising you with dinner,” a voice echoed at her back, from the hallway. Nero leaned against the threshold between the kitchen and the hallway entrance, looking as carelessly handsome in crimson as he ever did. “I wasn’t expecting you back until later tonight.”

The only people who’d known she had any plans to return to Gridania from Mor Dhona at all were Arenvald and Tataru. She sighed at him, with a sort of exasperated tolerance.

“You promised me you’d stop listening in on official communication frequencies.”

“I said I would limit myself to important matters only - which I believe was your stipulation. And if you must know, I consider news of your impending return to be an important matter.”

“Oh?” She warmed to his sidewise admission, despite herself. “Well, that’s very sw-”

“Who else can I trust to assist me with field testing my creations?”

Aurelia scoffed out a short laugh and gave him a jab in the side with one elbow. “Good to know you find me useful, I suppose.”

“Useful is a good way to- hello.” She blinked. His sharp gaze was fixed upon- actually, what was he looking at? “Since when did you start wearing this, or have my powers of observation finally failed me?”

Oh. “Since I started training to use a gunblade.”

“You could have asked me, were you that curious.”

“It’s not Garlean-style swordsmanship.” She put some distance between them to lean against the unused countertop as if checking on the contents of the large stewpot. Mutton, with rough-cut potatoes, carrots, and parsnips, cloves of garlic and various other herbs reducing in a thick gravy. Typical Ilsabardian country fare: simple but hearty. “...I’m learning the art from a Hrothgar mercenary. Radovan is…”

“Radovan?”

She cleared her throat. “Radovan is from Bozja.”

“Ah,” and there was a wealth of implication in that response neither of them wished to address. “Any reason you prefer the Bozjan style?”

Aurelia shrugged uncomfortably, picking invisible bits of lint out of a nearby kitchen towel and averting her eyes. After a long and awkward pause and the soft sound of bare feet against the floor, his hand came to rest on her back.

“All right,” he began, “where did I misstep?”

“It’s… you haven’t done anything wrong. I just…” She took a deep breath. “Cid doesn’t have good memories of Bozja.”

“Garlond’s memories have naught to do with you or me, and as obnoxiously good-natured as he is you should already know he’d never hold it against you.”

“I also... didn’t want you to think less of me,” she admitted. “I’ve always struggled with the gunblade, you see, and-”

“Struggle with a martial art? You?”

“Didn’t I tell you? I tried using one once, during basic. It was too heavy for me to lift and I was too nervous and the shot went wild. Knocked me flat on my arse. I’ve not attempted it since.”

“...You didn’t actually think I was going to laugh at you, did you?” She stared down at the countertop. Once he realized no answer would be forthcoming, he wrapped his arms about her and rested his cheek on the crown of her head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but ‘tis a comfort, on occasion, to know you aren’t actually brilliant at everything you touch. Sometimes it’s downright galling.”

"Nero, that's...”

“This star doesn’t bloody well need two Cidolfus Garlonds. Can you even imagine?"

That one earned him another jab in the ribs.

“At any rate,” he continued, “this new look of yours.”

“What about it?”

“Mm.” His hands slipped over her cropped jacket and tunic to brace her waist, then settled low on her hips. “...Not overfond of the lack of color, but I shan’t deny I rather enjoy the aesthetic.”

Aurelia jumped at the sensation of blunt fingernails dragging slow and careful paths along that small patch of exposed skin on the backs of her thighs, just below the curve of her buttocks. “One would think,” her hand fisted in the towel she’d been worrying in an effort to keep her breathing measured, “you had never seen a woman in shorts before.”

“Of course I have. None of them were you.”

She laughed. “Flattery-”

“Will get me everywhere.” His effervescent - and occasionally infuriating - grin had returned in force. “So I shall fondly hope.”

He tilted her chin upwards for a slow and languorous kiss. She hummed against his mouth, relaxed and content- until the moment his hands grasped her backside and squeezed, firmly.

“Nero,” she gasped, “not in the kitchen!”

“No? I’m fair certain there’s a bottle of olive oil in the pantry if needs must-” His eyes were alight with mirth, and his grin broke into a peal of delighted laughter at the embarrassed scowl that crossed her features. “...A jest, sweetling! ‘Twas only a jest.”

“Made in remarkably poor taste,” Aurelia grumbled as he continued to laugh. “And the stew is-”

Those hands slipped a few ilms upwards to worry at the waistband of her bottoms, and she felt her protest die on her lips. “Not going to be ready for another half-bell at least.”

She stilled his hands and pushed herself up from the countertop to give herself space, so she could turn around while still resting in his embrace. He allowed it, as he usually did when she was gone for long stretches of time, and she took the opportunity to rest her cheek against his chest and breathe him in. There was the faint scent of machine oil as always, and atop that was coffee and aftershave, a fresh scent that made her think of Coerthan spruce trees.

His thumbs pressed very gently along the curve of her hips, tracing the outline of them through the heavy fabric, sliding carefully and intimately beneath leather straps and steel buckles. Svelte frame or not, Nero Scaeva was a tall and imposing man; his hands and their long, deft fingers easily spanned her waist. She could feel the warmth of his palms along her flanks, still caressing that sensitive patch of skin high on her thighs.

Aurelia swallowed, heat settling low in her belly.

“Not in here,” she repeated. The words fell heavy from a tongue that felt suddenly very thick. “I mean it. The bedroom-”

“Too far.” His hands found their way under the waistband and beneath her smalls, to cup her buttocks, and this time she did gasp aloud. He stifled it with a kiss, murmuring, “Workshop’s just down the hall.”

“Oh, Nero, but your schematics-”

“It’ll be worth it,” and with that she found herself hoisted in the air.

She wrapped her legs around his waist to keep herself from falling. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to speak; she could hear how quickly his heart was thumping in his chest and caught the rasp of his breath in her ear, shallow and uneven. They’d barely rounded the corner to the hallway when he pressed her back against the first available expanse of wall surface and kissed her again, this time fierce and wanting. His hips canted upwards to grind against hers, and Aurelia understood the reason for his sudden impatience.

“Put me down,” she whispered against his mouth.

Nero’s grip relaxed enough to let her feet drop back to the ground, though he didn’t release her nor did he stop kissing her. Hastily she kicked off her boots while her hands fumbled at the buckles that bound the heavy leather kecks over her legs; once she was divested of that it would just be the short bottoms and the long woolen stockings she wore beneath- but it was slow going all the same.

“Hells,” he grumbled, “at this rate we’ll not make it down the bloody hallway.”

“Cid would see it done.”

The sheer consternation that spread across Nero’s face at her retort was so utterly comical that Aurelia was unable to resist the urge to laugh.

She paid the price for her teasing almost immediately when he let out a growl and shoved her against the wall, then dropped to his knees. His fingers labored swiftly and ungently at unfastening the clasps that ran down the outer seams, all but ripping them open, and without pause he pulled the protective garment away to toss in the same direction as her boots.

Still chuckling, Aurelia moved to reach for him-- and found herself rebuffed.

His hand caught her wrist and pulled it away from his hair to slam against the wall, pinning it in place until it was clear he meant for her to leave it there while his left hand worked the buttons at her waist. The denim fabric gave much more easily beneath his deceptive strength, and her eyes flared wide when he hooked his fingers in shorts and smallclothes both only to yank them down to her ankles, leaving her completely exposed.

Nero grasped her right leg, still encased in its heavy stocking, and lifted. She had to grab at his shoulders to avoid falling, and by the time she’d corrected her balance he had draped her right knee over his shoulder.

She sighed at the warm kiss he planted on her inner thigh just at the seam of her stocking, then hissed out her next breath when he sank his teeth into sensitive flesh. It left her writhing against the wall in a halfhearted and largely unsuccessful effort to free herself from his grasp as he made his unhurried way upwards, which left her subjected to the same painfully pleasant sensation each time he repeated the process. His mouth made a trail of blooming red marks along her thigh in its wake, the curve of his strong jaw grazing her with the slight and stinging rasp of red-gold stubble with each bite- and his journey came to an abrupt stop a scant ilm or two from the cap of dark golden curls that shielded her mons.

The damp heat of his breath fanned gently against her belly, and something in her spine curled in heady anticipation. Slowly he dragged the tip of his index finger along the seam of her folds: a light and feathery caress that was nonetheless quite calculated.

Aurelia groaned aloud.

“I should torment you like this more often,” his voice was a low and feral rasp as he replaced his index finger with his thumbs, stroking plush and swollen softness, spreading her open with a combination of careful deliberation and obvious relish.

The initial slide of his tongue was as devastating as it was precise: a white-hot jolt of pleasure that sent molten sparks hissing through her veins. Her back snapped into an arch but his hands held her fast, kept her positioned the way he wanted. Unable to dislodge him, she let her head fell back against the wall with a graceless thump, hands gathering in silken skeins of platinum, and the roughness of his cheeks bristled against tender flesh as he feasted upon her.

“Gods,” she gasped, jaw slack and chest heaving. The tip of his tongue flicked against her clit at the apex of each stroke, a light and insolent touch. Just enough to build upon that fire little by little, to leave her raw and burning and desperate for more. “Nero, please--”

The only response she received was a soft and derisive laugh, muffled between her legs. Her hips twitched against the cage of his grasp, moving upon instinct rather than any cogent thought. A throbbing ache she knew well settled into her core, everything within and without feeling as though the flesh was transforming into molten brass. It was a matter of time before-

-he withdrew, left her stepping that razor’s edge just before release. Calmly he rocked back on his heels, smirking up at her, mouth still glistening from his self-indulgence.

She stared incredulously down at him, heart pounding and flushed from head to shoulders.

“You-”

Before she could protest further, he lifted her into a bridal carry and nudged the workshop door open with his foot.

A broad sweep of his arm made space upon the nearby drafting table, set low until he was ready to use it again. She half-expected him to seat her, but instead he set her back down upon legs that still trembled. His mouth found hers again, briefly returning to her the taste of her own slick before he broke away with a soft and unsteady exhalation.

“That was for bringing Garlond into it,” he said. “Turn around. Hands on the table.”

Curt, direct, the delivery flat and sharp. Extremely suited to the tribunus he had once been.

She shrugged off her jacket, let it fall to the floor alongside spare books and the odd trimmings of discarded solder, and leaned forward to brace her weight. The varnished wooden surface was cool to the touch but began to warm quickly enough beneath her palms. Waiting for him she trembled in place, her senses acutely heightened by the ache of unfulfilled arousal.

The distinctive chime of a loosened belt buckle rang loud in her ears, as did the rustling of fabric that followed- and his lips were at her ear, nuzzling and nipping at the shell. She sighed, tilting her chin just enough to give him access, and felt his fingers tug her hair to one side so he could place another kiss behind her earlobe before his hand settled on her bare flank.

Her shoulders heaved with shaking breaths.

“You... don’t have to ask me, you know.”

“I know.” She inhaled sharply when she felt him nudge at her entrance, heavy and thick, gliding through the wet heat of her lower lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“I-”

“Go on.”

She didn’t give a damn for her dignity, not right now. Not when it was just the two of them like this, not when she knew Nero would take care of her no much how much he (gently) bullied her. In the end, she trusted him.

It was a dance, this give-and-take that always balanced itself in the end. An equal exchange.

“I want you,” she rasped. “Please.”

The words emerged as a thin, trembling whisper, almost a plea. She waited, wondering if he’d demand more, and could have cried with relief when his pleased hum buzzed against her neck and she felt pressure between her legs, the sharp and briefly uncomfortable burn even through her wetness as his girth stretched her.

She lowered her elbows, then tilted her head forward until her brow rested on the cool surface of the table, grounding herself through her own harsh and rattling breaths. It was almost too much. The angle of his entry combined with the tilt of her hips made her feel as though she’d been speared straight to her core, and he just seemed to keep going, hells, it almost hurt, but she felt so full like this-

“Aurelia.” The rasp of her name, laced with worry. He’d finally stopped; his hips sat flush with hers and his breathing was near as heavy. She looked down at the slender fingers splayed upon the table’s surface, close to her own, then over her shoulder to look him in the eye. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she panted. She wasn't, not yet, but she would be. "Just give me a minute."

The look he gave her from lust-darkened blue eyes was scrutinizing... and then his smirk, cool and challenging, returned in full force.

"I can stop here if it's too much for you to handle."

"Nero Scaeva, if you dare refuse me your cock after all that, I will strangle you with your own toolbelt-”

His breath huffed against her mouth.

“A tempting offer,” he drawled, “if I might be so bold.”

“-and furthermore, we both know no jury in the land would convict me.”

“Threats of asphyxiation aside, far be it from me to refuse you aught--” his hips flexed and she felt the fullness within her shifting by ilms, an experimental push and pull, “--eikon-slayer.”

The forceful thrust that followed all but knocked the breath from her lungs. Aurelia bit out a choked curse, her nails digging small furrows into the table for purchase. His lips pressed against her nape and she felt them curve with mirth- and no remorse whatsoever.

He was a demon. A voidsent summoned from the depths of the seven hells to torment her specifically. She would have said as much, but he had started to move and all she could manage was a high-pitched whimper.

Face buried in her arms once more, elbows down and forehead pressed against natural ridges and cool varnish, she could hear little over the loud and wet rasp of her own attempts to breathe. She arched her back and canted her hips backwards to meet him, the table rattling in tandem with each thrust. Nero hadn’t loosened his grip: one hand still held steady at her flank; she could feel his fingertips curling, digging into her skin as he fucked her. The other was still braced against the table and without thinking she reached for it to thread his fingers through hers, incongruous tenderness in the heat of coupling.

“I missed you,” she squeezed and felt his fingers tighten in response, “gods, I missed you terribly- ”

His breath caught. She felt the renewal of those soft bites against her neck, sharp little pinpricks contrasted against the hot and ceaseless friction he created within her.

He tugged his hand loose from her grasp and slid it off the table, reaching beneath their joined bodies, and Aurelia whined between clenched teeth when he cupped the damp curls between her legs. The slow circular strokes of his fingers rendered the heat in her belly bright and immediate, as if someone had turned the indicator dial on a ceruleum stove to its highest setting.

“Come for me, sweetling,” he breathed in her ear, as relentless above as below; she could feel the return of that tension, coiling tight and unbearable, an overtaxed spring- “Let me hear you.”

Her climax was upon her, light and gold in her veins.

She cried out to the heavens, a high and keening wail. Somewhere in the haze that dulled her senses she thought she heard a deeper cry as he answered in kind, but in that moment she could not have said if it was real or simply a flight of fancy.

His weight did return to her back after a time, gently. She could hear his ragged breathing in her ear, and her own soft gasps, and the reedy creak of the table protesting their combined weight. ‘Twas either a testament to superior carpentry or superior engineering that the godsdamned thing hadn’t broken underneath her in the middle of it all.

Rough stubble dragged back and forth over her bite-marked neck as he nuzzled her. His fingers had left her core to trail lazy patterns along the outline of her thigh.

“So,” Nero murmured, "I know it's a funny little Eorzean custom, but I find myself more fond of - Valentione's? - with each passing year."

She froze in dismay.

“What?”

“Hm? Did I not say it correctly?”

“No, not-...That was today?”

“I thought that was why you were coming home tonight.”

“Oh no,” groaned the Warrior of Light, and this time she was burying her face in her arms for a wholly different reason. Gods damn me for a forgetful fool. “I didn’t get you anything-”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” She didn’t have to see his smirk, not when she could hear it in his voice. “ ‘Tis not every day my objectively terrifying better half arrives home unannounced and lets me have my wicked way with her- with minimal complaint.”

Aurelia managed a shaky, embarrassed laugh. He kissed her cheek before bracing his hands on the table and shifting his hips, and she grimaced at the wet slide and the sense of emptiness and burgeoning soreness that followed close behind. Immediately she cupped herself with one hand, not that it was terribly helpful; they had made a mess regardless.

"I’ll clean up in here and see to the stew,” he said. "Go bathe. I'll have it ready by the time you're out."

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.” She gave him a doubtful stare, looked down at her feet as she righted herself- and started to laugh helplessly. “What?”

“My blasted smalls were stuck about my ankle this whole time.” She snatched them quickly up her legs with a loud and nasal snicker. “...Seven hells, I’m so glad you aren’t a historian. You’d include all the embarrassing details-”

“Naturally. ‘The mighty Warrior of Light sauntered with ethereal grace towards the water closet, soiled underthings clinging about the divine ankle of her radiant personage’-”

“Oh, stop. Go see to the Valentione’s dinner. The one the glorious champion of Eorzea bloody well forgot.”

"Along with her smallclothes-"

"Nero!"

His laughter followed her down the hallway as she scraped together what remained of her clothing and made her way to the bathroom.

Her dignity- well. The less said about that, the better.

~*~

Later that night as they lay in close and comfortable silence - having partaken of multiple helpings of stew, homemade chocolates, and each other - Nero felt a stirring from the soft, warm weight pillowed upon his bare chest. Aurelia’s hand had drifted to his side, over the long scar that curved about his midsection to taper near his navel.

He thought he spoke her name but it came out as a vague and sleep-heavy rumble.

“It’s healed cleanly.” Her fingertips traced it, the legacy of a misadventure that had nearly ended his life, never mind his career. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Hm? Of course not.”

“Good.” She seemed satisfied with that response, dark blue eyes drifting shut again- only to flicker half-open a beat later. “...Nero?”

“Yes?”

There was a long silence, followed by a question murmured on the edge of sleep:

“When I’m gone... do you miss me?”

He paused for long moments to consider the question, fingers idling in the trails they made upon the surface of her shoulder. Time was such a strange thing, really. Three years ago he would have cursed her name if he thought of her at all, and now... now his thoughts were oft as not filled with the memory of lavender and the clean cut-grass scent of the open road.

Home.

He smiled, knowing she couldn’t see it in the dark, and buried his face in her hair.

“Terribly,” Nero Scaeva said.

#chrysalispen writes #firm lemony business #nero scaeva #aurelia laskaris #look if you think i won't lampshade the fact this fic is late #you clearly do not know how very far on my bullshit i am and eternally will be

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blue-pastel-cat · 3 years

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Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation

Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).

I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”

1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)

In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.

If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.

Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″

Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)

For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.

So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?

---

Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.

Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.

Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie)

A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?

Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”

trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO

4. Find a place to call it home by yamajiroo

Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...

Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.

“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”

Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.

5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver

When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.

Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD

6. new world, same me, same bullshit by bobamilkteas (Wes)

At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.

Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.

7. misplaced heart of mine by inkburn

“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.

“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”

“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”

Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”

(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)

Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;

8. Blossom of Grace by birdpriestess

One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.

Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.

9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced

“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”

“I—”

“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”

“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”

Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”

Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.

10. Ephemeral by criedprinz

“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.

Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”

He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.

“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”

When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..

Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA

11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth

Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.

But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.

There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.

Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.

That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3

#xiaobedo #tetsu likes to ramble #genshin impact

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abovethesmokestacks · 3 years

Text

Kiss Me

Title: Kiss Me

Pairing: Captain Syverson x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Very intense kissing? Some grinding?

I am back on my Henry bullshit, this time with the lovely Captain Syverson. As with my last Henry fic, this came about from a discussion with Brooke, which led to a personalized fic, and she graciously okayed me posting it as a reader insert for the rest of you to enjoy. Partly inspired by the video of strangers kissing for the first time. And if this guy were the one I’d get to kiss? Hold on while I go full koala on him.

The early afternoon sun had seemed blistering when she left her apartment, and the sundress had been the obvious option; light, breezy material, a pretty pattern that combined comfort and style. The sun had nothing on the man sitting down opposite her now, radiating a kind of warmth and confidence that had heat creeping up her chest and neck, her fingers fiddling in her lap.

It had been a spur of the moment decision, an audition call shared by a recent acquaintance on Instagram. Film majors at the nearby college needed volunteers for a course project, weekend appointments, no experience needed, come as you are. Sounded fun, her weekends were mostly open anyway. What could possibly go wrong. She had messaged the contact person, gotten an address and a time to show up.

The first shock, admittedly, had come as she was signed in, given a form to fill out, detailing the project. She. Was going to kiss. A stranger. In front of cameras. For a film project.

“Miss? Are you alright?” The bubbly brunette who had signed her in, Abigail, according to the name tag tacked to her t-shirt, had looked at her, and she realized she must have made a sound.

“No! No, I'm fine, I- I just didn’t realize I’d- That this was-”

“Oh! Oh, you’ll be fine, there will be people in the room, you'll be safe as houses, darling, we won't say your names, that'll be up to you to share if you want.” The twang of her accent had was oddly comforting, but her heart was still racing, and suddenly, the handful of people lined up sitting in the corridor seemed all the more dangerous. She was going to kiss one of them. Fuck. Hastily, she'd filled out the rest of the form, handing it back and taking the number given, finding the nearest chair and trying to rifle through her purse as discreetly as she could for a chewing gum or a breath mint.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She had nearly launched out of her seat when her number was called, probably doing a credible impression of a deer caught in headlights. Abigail had smiled at her, motioning for her to follow.

“I promise, you will be fine. Our project manager wanted to explore the intimacy of the first kiss, what happens in those seconds before.”

“Why strangers?”

“It’s more… honest,” Abigail had said. “Couples know each other, know what to expect. They are comfortable. And it’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing sweeter. I still remember my grandpa kissing my grandma goodnight when my brother and I would stay over when we were kids, the absolute comfort and love between them. But strangers, they don’t know what to expect. There’s a level of trust between them, courage to take the leap.”

That’s… She couldn’t decide if that eased her mind or set it racing even more. She’d simply nodded, letting Abigail lead her to a door a little way ahead, unlocking it for her.

“You can leave your purse on the table on the right when you enter. Then go sit in one of the chairs. I’ll bring the guy in shortly. The camera will start rolling as soon as he sits down, you can introduce yourself if you want, just your name, doesn't even have to be your real one if you don't want to, and you can share whatever else you feel comfortable sharing and then…”

“Then we kiss.”

It had seemed so simple, so straightforward in all its terrifying simplicity.

At first, there is only the outline of him, stark against the light outside the room and showing a muscular frame with tensed shoulders and a wary gait. Folding her hands in her lap, she picks at the fabric of her dress, folding the skirt into tight pleats between her fingers, following the man as he inches closer. Dark jeans that reveal long legs and thick thighs, a worn t-shirt tucked into them that stretches over a chest that is… impressive. His face, though… His face is what sets her heart fluttering all anew. A strong jaw, hidden under a neatly trimmed beard, a slightly pouty lower lip and a perfect cupid’s bow. His nose looks like it may have been broken once, but it’s been set pretty well, lends character to his face, enhanced by the clear blue of his eyes that focus in on her. His hair is short, curling a little at the ends, but kept as neat as his beard, almost like a military man, but she can spot no chain around his neck that would hold his dog tags.

And then, he’d walked in.

She barely hears the murmur to her left when the cameras start rolling.

He doesn’t speak until he’s sitting down, gaze on her, softening a little as he holds out a hand.

“Ca- Shit, sorry. No names, right?” He looks at her, almost a little scared that he’s messed up, and it is far too endearing for such a rugged man.

Without hesitation, she gives her first name, her real first name, a little surprised at herself for offering it along with her hand. His hand is calloused, warm and big, her own palm almost drowning in his clasp when he takes it. “Nice to meet you.”

The man laughs, releasing her hand and relaxing in his seat. “Sy. Nice to meet you, too. Pardon me if I'm being rude, but you don't sound like you're from around here.”

“Here for work for the next couple of months. Gotta say, you've got a pretty good ear.”

His eyes sparkle, a smile tugging at his lips, and god, the heat rises in her again, different from the apprehension that had her worked up just moments ago. He is the kind of man that draws you in, that can make you melt with a look, and she is fading fast. She is going to kiss him. He is going to kiss her.

“I won't hold it against you," Sy quips, hands resting on his thighs, and god, she wants to feel them on her.

"Me not being from around here? Or are we talking about something else?"

"Well, I was thinking the first..."

His words trail off, the suggestion hanging heavy in the silence. It feels like it stretches an eternity between them, but it's probably no more than five seconds. She's about to ask if they should start, if she should move, but Sy is looking at her, gaze wandering, assessing. The way he takes her in,i's not objectifying or greedy, not judgmental. It's… curiosity. Assessing her, planning his move, appreciating her, and she can feel it, feel his gaze move up and down her face, when it dips down for a fraction to her chest.

Everything fades with his first move. There are no cameras, no people, no one but them. Sy moves slowly, deliberately, scooting to sit on the edge of the chair, knee knocking against hers. It's electric, making her flinch and gasp, and that seems to please him. His hand comes up to rest on her knee, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, locking eyes with her, willing her to relax.

"There we go…" Sy croons when she lets out a small sigh, his voice low and velvety. "Just relax. 'S just you an' me here. Don’t need to think about the rest of ‘em.. I'll be good, darlin', you can trust me. Isn't that right?"

She can only nod, inching towards the edge of her own chair, drawn into his warmth, the gentle timbre of his voice, the smolder behind the blue of his eyes.

"Yeah, that’s right, sugar. C’mon, come closer.”

His voice is hypnotic, not quite a purr, not quite a rumble, but it begs to be obeyed. She leans in closer, the two of them mirroring each other, and the tension is no longer in his shoulder, but sparking between them. His measured breaths fan lightly against her skin, and though everything in her should, by all logic, tell her to run, she finds herself relaxing. Sy’s thumb keeps working tight little circles, and he moves slowly, giving her plenty of time to see his intentions, and God, she welcomes it, tilts her head to welcome him.

It’s no explosion of stars or fireworks. His lips are a little chapped, but he knows how to kiss, working against her in soft pressure and the tease of his tongue along the seam of her lips. It’s not forcing the kiss, just giving her the option, showing that he is offering. When his other hand comes up to cup her cheek, she can’t help the needy whine that escapes her, and Sy smiles into the kiss, deepens it a little, swipes his tongue along her lips again.

She opens, happily surrendering, feeling him push back, soothing his thumb along her cheekbone. He kisses like she is the one thing he has been longing for, his happily ever after at the end of a long adventure. She kisses like he is the single point of stability in a storm, the one safe harbour in the entire world. Their spaces intertwine, slowly phasing and his one hand on her cheek is nowhere near enough. She pushes, Sy gives, and in one fluid moment and a happy sigh, she has straddled his lap, slinging her arms around his neck. She’s not letting go, not leaving this moment, and it’s almost like triumph when he embraces her, palms splaying on her back and she can feel the warmth through the thin material of her dress.

It’s a kiss for the ages, and they’re both hungry, both taking what the other gives freely. Sy’s hands wander, his fingertips teasing at the neckline to brush against heated skin, and she digs short, manicured nails into the skin of his neck, revelling in the groan he lets out. He pulls her closer, and oh. Her stomach does a somersault, a surprised giggle punctuating their kiss. Under her, Sy is hard, and the brief contact makes her all too aware of just how damp her panties have gotten.

There’s a less than discreet cough, and it pops their bubble, their gazes both snapping to the sound.

Right.

The film crew are standing behind their gear, some squirming, clearly a little uncomfortable. Sy gives a laugh, and it’s hard not to follow. She still feels winded from the kiss, head swimming, and she touches her forehead to his, biting her lower lip.

“I think we… might have overdone it,” she whispers, lips brushing against his cheek.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Sy agrees, his shoulders shuddering with poorly disguised mirth. He looks up at the film crew, “So, are we good?”

“Yup, great! We’re really- we’re good, you guys can, uh… Yeah. Good. Thanks. Um. Yeah. Great.”

They both laugh again at the awkward crew member, and she slowly eases off Sy’s lap. It’s too much of a temptation not to glance down, to raise an eyebrow at the visible bulge pressing against his jeans. He gives her a mock-chiding look before getting up himself, taking care to not face the crew as he falls into step next to her.

“Look,” he says as soon as they are out of the building, wringing his hands as he walks, “I know we just met, and that… that back there was for a project. But, god, sugar, you got my head spinning all kinds of ways, and I… it would be rude to ask to continue right away where we left off, much as I… god, I would really, really like to kiss you again, and… other things… But maybe you would be okay with a date? Anywhere you want. You can get to know me better. I’ll answer any questions you have, I’ll bring character references, I’ll pay for dinner and dessert, whatever you want.”

Halting, she tilts her head and looks up at him. The steely look that had assessed her when he’d entered the room is gone, as is most of the smoldering passion when their kiss had broken. It still lingers in his eyes, simmering behind the hope that made them glitter.

“You’ll answer any question?” she asks, smiling at the way he eagerly nods. “Is your name really Sy?”

“Yes. Well, technically. Syverson’s my last name, so Sy’s just a nickname.”

“And your first name? You started saying something else when you came in.”

“No, that was… I was in the army for a couple of years,” he explained, pulling up one of the sleeves of his shirt to show an army insignia tattooed on his bulging bicep. She bites her tongue, wondering if he had any other tattoos on his body, almost missing when Sy continues speaking, “-made it to captain before I got my honourable discharge. Just became a force of habit to introduce myself as Captain Syverson.”

“So, you’d bring one of your army buddies as your character reference?” She slows down to a stop, clasping her hands in front of herself. “I suppose now that you’re out of the army they wouldn’t feel as compelled to make you look good.”

Sy mirrors her, feet shoulder-width apart and hands clasped in front of him, and yeah, now she can see it, the posture. Definitely army guy. “No, no, god no! The guys in my unit would sooner throw me under the bus if I asked them to vouch for me in front of a pretty lady.”

“Oh, then who’d get the honour?” she asks, blushing at his compliment.

“When you signed in, there was a girl, right? Brown hair?”

“Abigail.”

“Abby,” Sy says, glancing back towards the building. “She’s my sister. Talked me into coming today, said they needed more people.”

“She must have something major hanging over you if she got you to agree to this.” Her voice is light, joking a she inches closer to him.

“Well…” Sy drawls, taking a step forward and gently grasping her hand, “I was promised a really good kiss.”

“A really good kiss, huh?”

Just like before, he makes the first move, hooking his finger under her chin and holding her still while he closes the space, capturing her lips in another kiss. It’s searing, slowly setting her afire, and she wants it, wants him, wants everything he’s giving and everything he’s offering. He keeps it short, and she can feel herself get up on her tippy toes to get more, and damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. She bites her lower lip.

“So how about that date, huh, darlin’?” Sy husks out, and fuck, she can hear the smile in his voice.

“I can pick the place?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And I can pick the time?”

“Any time you want.”

She reaches out, puts a hand on his neck, drags her fingers along warm skin and pulls him down to whisper in his ear.

“Your place. Right now. And dinner… is on me.”

#Kiss Me #Captain Syverson x reader #Syverson x reader #Sand Castle fanfiction

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kstewdeux · 3 years

Text

For a span of a minute that felt like an eternity, the entire world focused in on one singular point. A small painting. It’s edges well worn. Finer details faded and lost due to the passage of time but otherwise, in shockingly good condition.

But for all it’s antiquity, there was no mistaking the young woman who had been depicted. Whoever wrote the small exhibition label had simply labeled it:

Unidentified Artist, Japanese

Late Tokugawa Shogunate, Edo Period, 1853-1867

Young Woman

Painting on Parchment

H. Nakamura Trust, 88.251

According to the small blurb beneath the exhibition label, this tiny piece of parchment, clearly kept over the past century with meticulous care, had - at some point - apparently been studied by scholars to prove it was genuine. A fact that had been in dispute because the style diverged so greatly from art styles of the period but Kagome knew what the artist had been trying to do.

A photograph. He’d tried to mimic a photograph. Not perfect by any means but as close as someone in that time period could get. Which was shocking given (a) she had no idea he could draw and (b) that he would’ve taken the time to draw her.

Jaw trembling, Kagome had to remind herself to breathe. A task made more difficult as her friends joined her and began commenting on how the girl in the drawing resembled her.

Of course it did. It was her.

Her blurry vision flicked to the date and what registered felt like something cold was crushing her heart. If this ‘unidentified artist’ was him, Inuyasha had survived their quest and lived hundreds of years clearly hoping to see her again. At some point, he must have realized he simply wasn’t going to make it and…

Exhaling shakily, Kagome swallowed and decided it would be easier to simply leave. She was getting worked up over nothing. It was entirely possible that all of this was a coincidence. That she was reading too much into it. After all, Inuyasha wasn’t an artist by any means and most certainly would not have spent hundreds of years thinking about her. They were friends. Just friends. Unless something changed, which seemed unlikely, he had no interest in being with her that way. Besides, surely there were other women who looked like her throughout history. Everyone had a doppelgänger, right? Hers just happened to be some random woman in 19th century Japan.

It was just a painting of her doppelgänger.

Hopefully. Hopefully that’s all that it was.

“I have to go,” Kagome mumbled hoarsely as she took a step back and tore her eyes away from the painting, “I need to go.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Yuka asked worriedly, “Do…”

Unable to hear anything over the ringing in her ears, Kagome’s eyes wavered as they flicked back to the blurb that, upon closer inspection, described the other sketches and accompanying notes that detailed the artist’s ‘love’ for the young woman depicted. Various photographs of said notes had been attached slightly below said blurb and one of them had her shaking her head in mild horror.

‘I will not know your name next time we meet…’

“I need to go,” Kagome repeated breathlessly before turning on her heel and damn near running for the entrance. After that, she wouldn’t’ve been able to tell you how long or far or even which direction she ran from the mental image of an elderly Inuyasha writing out those notes he had to believe she’d never read. It might not even be him. Couldn’t be him. He didn’t draw. Couldn’t say something poetic much less write it. It had to be a coincidence. Just a coincidence but the image continued playing in her mind until she was blinded by tears. He died alone. Even…even if she did end up with him, she would’ve been dead by the time he wrote that. Long before he even picked up that brush. It…it…

It was all becoming too painful to even imagine.

Coming to an abrupt halt, Kagome clutched at her chest and used the side of a cement building for support. Inuyasha died over a hundred years ago and while that made sense, the realization that all her friends had died sometime in the past five hundred years hit her with all the force of a Mack truck.

Whimpering softly, her legs gave out and she slid down to the cold sidewalk. It was a coincidence. Just a coincidence. The probability of it all…

Well it just wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be him. It just…

“There you are,” came a hoarse, relieved whisper from far too close before two strong arms scooped her up and pulled her off the ground, “What happened? I’ve been looking everywhere.”

“Inuyasha?” Kagome mumbled stupidly before she whined and pressed her face into the corner of his neck - a gesture which had him stopping and doing something strange. His face turned slightly and buried his nose into her hair.

“What happened? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what happened,” he chided anxiously as he gave her a light squeeze, “You hurt?”

Opening her eyes, Kagome glanced around the dimly lit streets and realized how late it was. No wonder he’d come after her.

“M’fine. Got lost is all,” she lied lamely and she felt him inhale deeply then sigh.

“Bullshit. What happened?” he asked again before adding in a clear attempt to get her to smile, “I don’t mind killing people ya know. If someone hurt you, I’ll make them pay, ya know, if you want.”

“Nothing happened. Just got lost on my way home,” she mumbled and with a somewhat exasperated grunt, Inuyasha continued walking again.

“You’re a terrible liar and an idiot,” Inuyasha opined firmly - adjusting his hold on her and shaking his head, “You could’ve gotten hurt out here by yourself, stupid. Anything could’ve happened.”

“I was…”

“Sometimes I swear you’re trying to get yourself killed,” he continued chiding as some of his anger began bubbling to the surface, “What would’ve happened if I didn’t come looking, huh?”

“I said I’m sorry,” she protested weakly - her nose subtly nuzzling the flesh at the base of his neck, “I…”

“Sorry isn’t good enough. You need to do better,” Inuyasha snapped angrily before pausing mid-stride and sighing, “I swore to protect you but you make it so…so hard sometimes. And you don’t even care. You just…just go around getting kidnapped or disappearing and…and getting hurt when I’m not looking.”

It was strange but hearing his voice berate her and feeling his irritated breaths actually improved her mood considerably.

“I waited. Like an idiot I waited for you to come back from that school thing of yours instead of coming to get you like normal but…but then the sun went down and…” Inuyasha continued to huffed and grunt while his arms held her slightly tighter, “I can’t be there all the time dammit. I can’t. I’d like to be but…but I just can’t so…so you just have to fucking do better.”

Lifting her head slightly at this strange command, Kagome studied his face for a moment before leaning forward and absently placing a kiss on his tense neck. Inuyasha went stock still and then rigid but she couldn’t find it in her to care.

“I’m sorry I scared you. I’ll do better,” she promised tiredly as she pressed another lazy kiss on his shoulder. At least in this moment, he was alive and loved. Right now, he wasn’t alone drawing paintings and writing notes to someone who was either dead or hadn’t been born yet. And while true that the ‘unidentified artist’ was probably anyone else, that mental image of it being him continued to haunt her.

Taking a deep breath, Kagome stubbornly told herself that the ‘unidentified artist’ couldn’t be him. It simply wasn’t possible. For so many reasons.

“You kissed me,” Inuyasha finally blurted and mercifully distracted from her inner turmoil, Kagome hummed in the affirmative. A second passed then two and he forced out a strangled, “W-why?”

“I wanted to,” Kagome offered tiredly as she focused on the feel of him and the knowledge that, as of this moment, he was very much alive. And yes, now that she was a little calmer, it was fairly obvious that the ‘unidentified artist’ wasn’t Inuyasha. He didn’t think of her in that way. Never had. Never would. They were friends. Best friends. But he loved someone else and had made it very clear he wasn’t interested in her that way.

As Kagome continued talking herself down, Inuyasha remained motionless for a long time before he finally began walking back towards the shrine. Slowly. Every so often he’d pause and take a few short breaths like he wanted to say something but stopped himself.

“Why did you want to?” he finally asked hesitantly as he turned a corner, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Because you’re you,” she mumbled as her consciousness began ebbing. With a soft sigh, she relaxed more fully against his warm chest and offered up an additional explanation, “It made me happy.”

This response clearly bothered him judging by the increased tension in his muscles.

“Why did kissing me make you happy?” he pressed after another long moment of silence.

“Dunno. Why do you think it…” Kagome trailed off into a yawn and Inuyasha let out a small groan.

“I don’t know. That’s why I was asking,” Inuyasha interrupted with a huff of frustration, “You always make things hard. For no reason.”

Instead of getting angry, Kagome simply cooed and snuggled into him which seemed to both bother and calm him.

“You’re so stupid,” he continued to grumble as he adjusted his hold, “Ask a simple question and you just…act like you.”

“How else am I supposed to act?” Kagome hummed with mild amusement and Inuyasha grunted.

“Whatever. You need to sleep,” he changed the subject miserably as he finally made it to the shrine and began climbing the steps, “But don’t think I’m gunna take it easy on you. I’m serious. You can’t do shit like that again. You could’ve gotten…”

“Will you stay here tonight?” Kagome interrupted tiredly and Inuyasha once again stopped mid-step. His hands flexed against the flesh they were gripping as he licked his lips and averted his eyes.

“Only if you tell me why you really kissed me,” he repeated his earlier question - before continuing with an unease tinged with hope which surprised her, “I think I deserve some answers after the stupid stunt you just pulled and if you’re trying…if you did that to just…just distract me, it won’t work. Won’t change nothing. You still gotta be less stupid.”

“I did it because I wanted to,” Kagome repeated before gasping when he suddenly set her down and glared.

“Well what if I didn’t want you to?” Inuyasha huffed - something strangely hurt behind his expressive amber eyes, “You’ve never tried to mess with me before. Never. And…and do you have any idea how scared I was when you didn’t come home? I searched for you, Kagome. From the…the 6 to the 9. Do you know how hard it is to track scents here? To listen for you? It’s a literal miracle that I…”

“I said I’m sorry,” Kagome insisted and Inuyasha looked even more hurt. Breathing heavily, he visibly tried to control whatever reaction was brewing under the surface but unfortunately, his confusion and hurt bubbled over.

“I DON’T WANT AN APOLOGY!” Inuyasha bellowed - his hurt escalating into full blown anger with such speed it nearly gave her whiplash, “YOU COULD’VE DIED. YOU COULD’VE BEEN HURT! AND I’M NOT SO DESPERATE THAT A STUPID KISS IS GUNNA MAKE ME FORGET THAT! WHY DID YOU KISS ME?!”

“I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you!” Kagome snapped and Inuyasha looked a hair away from strangling her.

“THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER! YOU’RE JUST TRYING TO COVER YOUR ASS AND…” Inuyasha began to rail against her once more and it was at that point Kagome’s mind officially hit It’s breaking point. He wanted answers, huh? He wanted to know why she ran and why she kissed him and why she was so upset?!

“FINE! KNOW WHY I DID THAT?! BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” Kagome screamed bitterly and Inuyasha froze like a deer in the headlights, “I KISSED YOU BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! THERE! HAPPY?!”

When Inuyasha continued gaping at her with a shell-shocked expression, the full ramifications of what she’d just admitted hit her like a ton of bricks.

“Forget it,” she breathed miserably as she turned and unsteadily began climbing the stairs with her arms curled tightly around her stomach, “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do…any of that again. Just forget what I said.”

“Wait. Wait,” Inuyasha’s strangely panicked voice called out - a single clawed hand gripping her shoulder to force her to stop, “I don’t think I heard that right. W-why did you…”

“Let me go Inuyasha,” Kagome hissed but the hand didn’t release her.

“C-can I tell you w-what I heard?” he asked with a mixture of fear and desperation, “A-and I could be wrong but I just…”

“You hear everything Inuyasha,” Kagome huffed acidly as she pushed away his hand with all her might, “You heard what I said…”

Even as she climbed the stairs, she could hear his harsh rapid breaths which honestly had her moving a little faster. Everything was ruined now. All because of some stupid little painting that she’d just…

“You��you said you…you loved me,” he repeated barely above a whisper, “Right?”

Closing her eyes, Kagome let out a long sigh before squaring her shoulders and deciding to face her mistake head on.

“I do love you but I don’t…” she began as she turned to face him before being cut off when a pair of lips captured her own. Two strong arms snaked around her waist for but a moment before his calloused hands suddenly cupped her face in an effort to force her to respond.

When she finally did and when he finally pulled back, his slightly euphoric expression faded into mild horror and panic.

“Y-you said you l-loved me back, r-right?” he asked worriedly as he released and took an involuntary step back, “That’s…that’s what you said. Two, no, three times. You said that…”

“That I loved you…back,” Kagome repeated slowly and Inuyasha gave a jerky nod in response.

“That’s what you said,” he insisted miserably - his amber eyes flicking in the direction of the well, “So…and I mean, you did start the…the kissing so I…and you were an idiot. Scared me half to…”

“Know what? That is what I said,” Kagome hummed in a resigned fashion as she reached out and gestured for him to take her hand, “Come on. Let’s go inside. It’s late.”

Swallowing thickly, Inuyasha eyed the beckoning hand with weary apprehension before accepting the gesture and allowing her to lead him into the house. And up the stairs. And into her bedroom. And then onto her bed. A bed upon which he found himself awkwardly waiting while Kagome proceeded to change and get ready for the night.

“Where are you gunna sleep…” he began nervously when it finally dawned on him that she seemed to be intending for him to sleep on the bed. That’s where she led him and where she told him to stay after all. Which was strange but it had been a strange night. Maybe she was trying to make him feel better. Do him a favor?

“In the bed,” Kagome hummed as she ran a brush through her hair and gave him a warm smile. A smile that faded when he stood up and began nervously glancing around with a marked blush.

“Inuyasha, where are you going?”

“You’re gunna sleep on the bed,” he muttered as he prepared to sleep in his normal position on the floor, “And you…well I was gunna…”

“If you want, you can sleep in the bed with me…”

Amber eyes widened as a single impulsive ‘oh’ left his lips but instead of sitting back down on the bed, he remained standing and staring at her with that same shell-shocked expression.

“Is that…okay?” Kagome asked nervously.

Seeming to come back to himself, Inuyasha nodded fervently and quickly sat down atop the mattress.

“Y-yeah thats…that’s…yeah. Yeah. We can do that…”

That night was the first of many nights he spent cuddled up against the woman of his dreams. Letting the warmth of her body span the length of his own as he relished in the knowledge that somehow this woman loved him. How, when or even why didn’t matter. She loved him back and that first night, as he held her small frame against him, he very nearly cried in relief. Honestly, before that night, he had already decided he was going to let her go rather than say anything. There was no way she’d ever love him back, he’d reasoned. No one would ever want to be with a half-breed, right? He’d never been so happy to be wrong.

Weeks went by after that and the funny thing was, when Kagome absently mentioned the painting from the museum to her friends over lunch, none of them had the faintest clue what she was talking about. All they remembered was her leaving in a rush. While Kagome chalked this up to the art not being memorable to anyone else, the truth was that no one else would ever remember this art because it simply never existed.

The second she’d admitted her feelings - emotions he fully reciprocated but had suppressed - all those drawings and notes faded from the annuals of time because that painting- which had been loaned to the museum by a well meaning unrelated widow who thought the unique artwork would make for an interesting exhibit - turned out to be a butterfly which was inadvertently crushed. As the years rolled on, Inuyasha never needed to paint something to bring him comfort in the midst of crushing regret and loneliness.

Why would he?

Thanks to a merciful series of events, he woke up to his favorite smiling face every day for the rest of his life.

#fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #inuyasha #inukag #writing #kagome #inukag fanfic

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criminalminds4days · 3 years

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Family Matters | Chapter 10: Believer

Hello everyone!

I apologize for my lack of posting. I have barely survived midterms and I have found myself with a writers block once more. I am hopefully going to be able to give myself a little break between the end of the semester and after finals and the beginning of my summer courses. Thankfully I only have 2 summer classes so hopefully that will make it easier to post.

I have some announcements coming up soon and I will hopefully finish writing the missing chapters for this story and only have to post and edit. So far, I have not been able to edit anymore so I apologize for any grammatical error.

I really hope you are enjoying reading the story because I had a really great time writing it. Hope you have a great weekend!

I apologize for constant flashbacks but they are important to the plot, I promise!

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 4k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 10: Believer

"Very well, this seems like a good start." She said as she finished reading his confession. She moved towards the camera and turned it off, signaling that she would be taking the paper and would adhere to her part of the deal.

"What is she doing?" Spencer whispered to Emily. "Without a video confession, the written one can be considered coerced. We would be back at square one."

"There is the surveillance camera, genius."

"Of course she has a backup plan." He looked at the black camera, smiling at the knowledge.

"Now tell me, who left you, was it, mom or dad?"

"My dad." She readjusted in her seat. "How many victims did you kill total. We've found five, but it seems to me that is a low number for someone as angry as you."

"Fifteen, some of them are lost in the desert, some are by the arches, they should be found fairly soon." He shrugged and continued to look at her. "Why did he leave?"

"My mother got pregnant when she was young. It was a mistake, they didn't love each other. They married because of me, so it was only a matter of time before they broke, and break they did." She fought the urge to look back, hoping that nobody aside from Hotch would review the security tape. "Did you kill your father?"

"First one. He's in the arches, his favorite place in the world."

"Did your mom not accept his apology?"

"Well, he didn't really apologize until I had a gun to his head, but my mother was always kind, so she forgave him."

"Why did you kill him then?"

"I didn't forgive him." He winked at her. "Did you look for him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"That's your fourth question."

"I don't care, I want to know."

"He is dead. As dead as can be." She said out loud for the first time. "I hired a private investigator and found he crashed his car two years after he left us."

"Karma is a bitch."

"Why keep killing if you got rid of him?"

"For the same reason, you joined the FBI." He smiled at her, "to show my dad that he wasn't gonna dictate my life. That I was not going to let him be my end goal."

"It seems to me he is. You tracked him down, killed him. For some that might be enough. But you never got closure so you decided to pray on people who made mistakes. Where did you find them?"

"I worked at a counselors office."

"Well, that is rather obvious now. Maybe you should have gotten some help yourself." She stood, ready to leave the room, "hope you enjoy prison." She turned to exit the room.

"My final question, if you had found him, what would you have said?"

"I don't know." She responded.

"Bullshit."

"Well, I couldn't ask him why he left because I already know that, so I don't really know what I would have said." She turned to him, "what did you tell him?"

"I told him trousers weren't his thing." He stood, the handcuffs falling from his hands as his smile grew wider. "You should really be more careful with what you leave laying here, doctor."She reached for her gun but everything happened so fast she had no time to fire it. He seemed to run into the wall, only this one was not as hard as it seemed and a giant chunk collapsed as he made his way through, and just like that he had exited the station. Prentiss and Reid rushed in and through the now giant hole in the station but the man was nowhere to be found. Lucas Heavensbee had just vanished on her watch.

"Fuck!" She yelled and made her way to the office, the team was now making their way to the interrogation room but stopped in their tracks as they saw her approach. "I need access to the security cameras, now." She moved towards the security office and asked for the feed of the last couple of weeks to be played, there she found there were about three days missing. "He planned this, and someone helped him. He knew exactly what he was doing. That bastard played us!" She rushed out and into an SUV, driving directly to his house that was now under surveillance. She looked around, looking for anything that would indicate he had been there. It was fast to spot it, he had managed to slide through the police cars and left a note for her.

I just wanted to make sure you knew this had nothing to do with you doctor, but I simply can't let my father win. I am sure we will hear from each other, and then we can converse from one orphan to another. Until then.

She was ready to show the note to them, as Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid made their way through the house. The note was still crumpled in her hand, but as the local police entered she decided against it. The two agents were the best people she had ever met, she knew it since the moment she joined the FBI, and she knew they were trying to make her feel better about the whole situation, but there were some things she couldn't get past. This man had killed fifteen people and kidnapped so many more and he had slipped right through her fingers. He had made a fool of her, and she would be damned if she didn't catch him. Telling Emily and Spencer would worry them, and they would be on her case about it becoming an obsession, just like she had done after their first case.

One year ago (I think?)

Her leg bounced as she drove with the social worker and two of her co-workers. This was her first big assignment, and she wasn't sure she would measure up. It was also important to note that while Emily and she tended to get along well, Spencer and she hadn't spoken almost at all since the sweater incident.

"Should I introduce you as FBI agents?"

"No, I think it's best if we come as social workers, there is less hostility." Prentiss' said as she gave both Reid and her their fake badges. She placed her FBI ID inside her bag and took a deep breath, it was a simple mission, they would be in and out.

Never, and I mean never, say something will be easy, as this almost assures you that is not the case. The social worker, whose name was Daisy, had been shot and was now dead. They had become trapped in the middle of a war between the cult leaders and the local police. It's as if the universe wished to remind her just how much bad luck she could have.

She heard them talking to the FBI, and food had been delivered so she assumed they had implanted microphones. Now they had to find a way to communicate with them and let them know what they had concluded.

"Which one of you is it?" The man said as he pointed a gun at them.

"Are we playing tag?" She asked stupidly, earning a glare from her partners.

"Do you think this is a joke? Which one of you is the FBI agent?" She turned to look at the woman and man, trying her hardest not to freak out.

"What are you talking about?" Spencer asked, clearly nervous.

"I will ask you one more time, and if none of you tell me I will not hesitate to shoot all three of you. Which one is the FBI agent?"

She saw Emily stir and knew she had to act fast if she wanted to save her. "I am." She said before either of them could stop her. "I'm the FBI agent. Though I'm fairly new so I don't really have that many secrets to tell. I was barely cleared to be on the field. If you really think about it, I'm not very helpful, so I think maybe if you let it slide I could-" she felt a fist connect with her right cheekbone, silencing her.

"Take her to the back." He instructed one of the men. She gave one last reassuring glance to her teammates, hoping this wouldn't be the last time she saw them.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, the door to the room she was in opened and Ben came in. You would think that having a name like Benjamin wouldn't exactly command respect, but she wasn't one to judge cults.

"Why are you here?"

"Because you told your men to lock me here." He slapped her across the face.

"Who sent you?"

"My boss?" Her response was received with another slap.

"Do you think this is a joke?"

"I think that you need to feel powerful because a part of you knows you're not enough." She spoke hoping her team could hear part of their discovery, even if she was receiving punches from the man as she continued. "You think you can get away with stuff because you prayed on the week, but deep down you know that there are people here who could stand up to you, and if they did you would be done for." She felt a warm liquid fall from her lips as he continued to beat her. "I know you pray on young girls. You're nothing more than a pedophile that uses the bible as a way to manipulate women to give their children to you." As she fell he started kicking her and she tried to avoid making noise, but the pain was too much. "This is nothing, I've dealt with worse." She spoke, hoping they would understand. "I've dealt with much worse, this is nothing."

"Who do you think you are?!" The man said, enraged at her defiance.

"Nobody, just the one person that knows you better than you know yourself." That earned her the hardest hit, and she knew she wouldn't be conscious for much longer, she had to let them know. "Your suicide won't work, there are people that are skeptical and you know it. This isn't about God, or even your preferences, this is about you Ben, and how you are so terrified to go back to prison you are willing to kill your followers to avoid it, because you know they would see right through your act, you are nothing but a coward." The last kick took place and the man left the room. "Don't change the plan, I'm okay." She whispered, hoping they could hear her, wishing that even if she died right then and there, they could save the people trapped in this church.

When she woke, a woman was there tending her wounds. "Be careful, I think you might have some broken ribs."

"Don't tell Ben, he might come and finish me off" she joked, but the woman gave her a pointed look as if letting her know that was a possibility. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"I don't know, maybe a couple of hours. They will come and get you for the ceremony, use you as an example."

"That's okay, I've always wanted to be one of those."

"This is not a joke girl, he's dangerous."

"I know. The trick is to have nothing to lose."

"Well, I have a daughter."

"Ben's wife, right?" The woman flinched at the mention. "You're not okay with that, are you?" And then, the pieces of the puzzle fit together. "You made the call, didn't you?" Before the woman could confirm her suspicion, a man entered and pulled her up, not worrying if her body ached, and took her to the church. She used the door frame to help her stabilize herself and took in the sight before her. It was still light, but with the time she lost she couldn't be sure how much time they actually had left. Emily and her locked eyes and she approached, her eyes full of worry, but her facial expression was one of pure anger and hatred. "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate me?"

"How could you lie to us?" She asked, and as the men made their way to the front, her tone didn't change, but her questions did. "Are you crazy? Why would you do such a stupid thing? They could have killed you."

"I know, but it was either me or all three of us. Besides, I'm fine. We need you and Reid on the inside."

"This is reckless behavior."

"I know, but you were about to do the same."

"I have experience."

"Exactly, I can be a scapegoat."

"You are the most stubborn person I have ever met."

"I know, it's a gift. Now listen, I think there are mics, in the food, and if I'm right, I think I have been able to feed some information to the team, but we need to figure out when this massive suicide will take place."

Emily nodded and gave her an apologetic look before shoving her harshly. She fought the urge not to wince but it was almost impossible with her broken ribs. "You are a disgrace to this country, and I hope whoever you work for knows that they will not get away with it."

Ben looked over and stared at her, and despite her pain and the fear of another beating, she stared him down, letting him know that he would not get the best of her. She was gonna save as many people as possible and he could suck it. He was just another man who thought they were invisible because they weren't afraid to beat you up.

Spencer observed the interaction and the defiance she had amazed him. Despite the bruises and the swelling of her eye, not once did she lower her gaze or show any sign of weakness. Never in his life had he felt so attracted to someone as he did right then and there, but now was not the time to daydream of your coworkers, especially when they could be on the verge of dying.

As the day progressed, she continued to look for ways to tell the team, finally resorting to using the window to write a message. When she was younger she used to huff into a window to create fog and used it to write, so she did the same, letting the team know she could possibly convince some people to exit and they could come in after.

"What are you doing?" The woman from earlier spoke as she entered the room.

"If I'm gonna die, I might as well go doing something I like. Fog drawings." She said and covered her work. "Listen, don't ask me how I know this, but the FBI might strike tonight and if they do, he's not gonna cooperate, we need to get as many people as possible out."

"No, I can't do that."

"Please, I know you're scared, I'm terrified right now. I might have peed my pants earlier today, but that's not the point. The point is we need to save as many people as possible. Please help me get them out." Through the window she saw a figure, holding three fingers up. She nodded and turned back to the woman.

"Three a.m.?"

"You saw him too?"

"Yeah, one would think the FBI would be a little more discrete."

"We have our moments. Now please, make sure to get everyone out before then." The woman sighed and nodded, agreeing to the plan. "And one more thing, the people I came with, how are they?"

"Are they also agents?"

"No, of course not. I just dragged them into this and feel responsible for them. They are good people."

"The man seems to be fascinated by Ben, and vice versa. The woman keeps pacing around as if hoping for enlightenment. She has talked to some people though."

"Okay good. Please make sure to get them out too." After she left and closed the door, the woman sat down, her injuries making it hard to breathe. "I don't know where I am, or how to get out, but that will not change the plans okay? I need to make sure all these people are safe."

She wished she could hear someone ensuring her that would be the case, but there was no answer. She felt herself get dizzy and knew there was definitely internal damage that would take time to heal. Turns out her mother was wrong, money couldn't get you out of everything. It felt like an eternity, but she knew the time was approaching. She saw and more and more dark figures gathered around the church. She even caught a glimpse of Derek, who seemed to be looking around, as if hoping he could find her. She huffed one last time and wrote a message to him.

The door opened and nobody came in. She knew what it meant, so she gathered her remaining strength and walked out. Everything was dark and she could hear Spencer's voice coming from the main room. She followed it and stopped as she noticed him trying to talk a man down from placing explosives. She cursed under her breath. She stepped forward only to be pulled back by someone.

"Don't even think about it." The man said.

"Derek, we need to help him."

"I know, I'll go, join the rest. Everyone is already out."

"But-"

"Go!" She began walking out before it all happened. Reid ran towards them and Derek pulled the both of them to the nearest and hopefully safest area before a sharp pain on her head made her vision blurry and soon after she lost consciousness.

"I think she will appreciate it if you showered." She heard someone say, once she finally regained consciousness.

"Well, then she can tell me that herself." Another voice responded.

"Emily, you and Spencer have been here for a week. You need to go to the hotel and rest. At least the kid has been using the shower."

"I am not leaving until she wakes up. That includes leaving to bathe."

"Neither am I." A third voice added to the mix. "Though I can't say the same thing about avoiding water."

"How am I supposed to leave if I can't trust the two of you to take care of yourselves?"

"Easy, your flight leaves in less than an hour and you are still here. Unless you want to be paying fees you will get out of here."

There was a sigh of resignation before the voice spoke once more. "Reid, you're in charge until she wakes up. Then she's in charge."

"You're gonna put the one of us that was hit in the head 'in charge'? What does that even mean?" The female voice complained.

"I have made my decision. Maybe if you showered, things would be different." The voice faded, and the steps of the person became less clear, so she assumed the person was leaving.

"I think Morgan is right, you should take a shower."

"Don't make me hurt you, Reid."

"It was just a suggestion."

She didn't want to interrupt their banter, but her urge to sneeze was bigger, so she let her body do its thing. Though it is important to let you know that sneezing with broken ribs is horrible.

"She's awake!" Emily screamed and launched herself onto the bed. She started crying from pain after the action. "You're so happy you're crying!"

"Prentiss, that might be because you just jumped on her ribs." The man clarified as he stood, placing his hand on hers. The feeling was foreign, but she could let it slide once.

"I am so sorry! But I am so happy you're awake."

"What happened?"

"After the explosion, you hit your head, and because you already had injuries your body gave out, exhausted. Thankfully the ambulance was already there and we could rush you to the hospital. You've been sleeping for a good week." He explained.

"Well, then I don't get a lazy day for another three months." She joked and the two joined her. "How are the believers?"

"They're all safe and accounted for. Sadly we lost Ben's wife."

"Does her mom know?"

"Yes, but she wanted me to tell you she doesn't blame you and hopes you do get better." There was a moment of silence, as she processed the message, as well as her guilt.

"And I want you to know I ate your Jell-O." This caused her to laugh again. No matter how painful it felt, she was glad to be alive.

"Remind me to never get stuck in a hospital under the care of Spencer Reid. He'll eat my Jell-O."

"Let's make it a no trip to the hospital policy."

"Do I need to remind you where we work?" The woman shook her head, and both of them looked at her with a heartwarming smile. "I hate to break this moment, but please go shower, Prentiss."

"Ugh, fine." She placed a kiss on her forehead and moved out. "Reid, if anything happens, call me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Got it."

She walked out and the two remained silent for a couple of minutes. Their hands were still together and she squeezed it to get his attention. "How are you doing? I wasn't the only one that got caught in the blast."

"I'm good. Morgan and I barely had a scratch, they cleared us that same day."

"That's good. What about the rest of the team?"

"They are all good. They wanted to stay but they had another case, Hotch said your family was out of reach so Emily and I refused to leave. Morgan also stayed behind but they called him up today, without three agents they needed all the help they could get."

"You guys didn't need to stay." She assured him. His grip on her hand tightened, enough to let her know he wasn't letting go, but not enough to hurt her.

"You could've died. Because of me."

"That's not true and you know it."

"I should've said I was the agent."

"We both know the reason he didn't kill me was that I'm a woman. You wouldn't have been so lucky."

"Still."

"Reid, listen to me. This is not your fault, and this is not Emily's fault either. I knew what I was getting into, and I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"You are one stubborn woman."

"I know." She smiled at him, "now please go find me some Jell-O."

He laughed, but nodded, letting go of her hand. Just before he exited the room he turned and gave her the most endearing look she had ever seen, "thank you, for saving our lives. I'll never forget that."

"Good, that way I can ask for favors at any time." They both chuckled and he left the room hunting for the dessert.

The reality in her brain, however, was not as calm as she portrayed. For months she had obsessed over what she had done wrong, and she had spent sleepless nights thanks to her recurring nightmare, in which Ben didn't hesitate to pull the trigger, and as she watched Spencer and Emily's bodies lie in a pool of blood. This alone was enough to make her train and perfect her skills, to the point of complete exhaustion. She wasn't going to fail, not again.

That was until Lucas Heavensbee had brought her right back to her dark hole.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer x y/n #Criminal Minds #CM #fanfic

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godkilller · 3 years

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@izzabizz139

I wanna hear you rant about the Gin vs Hitsugaya anime fight bc I love seeing your pov and you clearly write better than whoever extended that scene :) pretty please

out of character. DON’T ENABLE ME SO MUCH !! No but I cackled when I first saw this ask because oh my god, clearly you saw a taste of my annoyance about the anime adaptation -- no, adaptation implies it was accurate, I’ll say the anime’s take was “inspired by” the manga’s quick run-in. I’ll start by saying this moment is supposed to be a bit important considering, via the audience’s point of view, THIS IS THE FIRST WE SEE OF TWO CAPTAIN-RANKED SHINIGAMI CLASHING. The only other captain-involved fight we’ve seen thus far in the manga is Kenpachi ( who is an outlier and should not be counted... no, I joke... but, still, Ichigo was not an equal to him, his sword was sliced through like butter. ) The whole reason I enjoyed this encounter between Toshiro and Gin was simply this; it wasn’t some fancy multi-chaptered fight. IN THE MANGA, THERE ARE ONLY TWO BLOWS MADE. One, by Toshiro, to begin the fight. The second, to end it, is Gin’s strike.

I want you to know that I’ve rewatched this specifically to answer this ask, and only due to this, as I wouldn’t have ever sought it out otherwise. HONOR MY SACRIFICE.

Read more for length. I’m merciful.

In the anime, they monologue at each other, and it’s mostly a combination of Toshiro making three separate death threats ( he starts this off by saying “I’ll kill you before Hinamori arrives” and then goes on rewording it each time, and then also repeats the death-threat he gave Gin prior to this conflict about “I’ll kill you if Hinamori bleeds” ) and then also Gin and Izuru talking about how truly powerful and amazing Toshiro is -- no, this isn’t me being bitter or petty, I literally shit you not, Gin has a line that is legit “AS EXPECTED FROM HITSUGAYA TOSHIRO, CAPTAIN OF THE TENTH DIVISION, A CHILD PRODIGY OF TH' SORT THAT ONLY COMES ALONG ONLY ONCE EVERY FEW CENTURIES. HOW VEEEERY DANGEROUS. YOU’RE SERIOUS, AIN’T YA?” like don’t get me wrong, love a good sarcastic little shit comment like that, but the amount of times the anime pumps Toshiro up like he’s their shinest new cash cow ( and he is, at this point, it is not even 50 episodes into the series and they’ve realized everyone likes him and he’s jumped to high ranks in popularity polls... earning him filler spotlights, and eventually his very own non-canon movie ) so everything coming out of Gin’s mouth feels like more bullshit than necessary. Izuru’s already literally monologued, internally, how powerful and amazing Toshiro is anyways. Why this ?

Not to mention that, prior to saying that long-winded shit, Gin’s haori changed length three times ( and once it was longer than his entire body by several feet, and no not in a ‘to show motion’ way ) and most importantly Shinso was drawn, consistently, at katana-length for the duration of their little spat where the following, too, happened: Gin frog-leaps after doing a backflip, Toshiro gives Gin two (2) haircuts, Gin ruins some floorboards and gives Toshiro at least one splinter in his arm, Toshiro whilst wearing socks lands on Shinso’s blunt edge and pushes the sword down with his footsie because that’s how that works, there’s another backflip somewhere in there that Gin doesn’t need to be doing, twirl, twirl, and ballet, Gin’s face elongates until his chin is bigger than his face, Gin spends ten+ seconds purely dodging very close strikes to his face as Toshiro is the only one making breathy growly and ‘tsuuaaah’ sounds, there is a brief moment of no gravity as Toshiro keeps hacking at Gin midair and Gin blocks it over and over again but they still stay in the air but they’re not standing or jumping or using reiatsu they’re just like, momentum-locked I don’t fucking know, Gin frowny faces as he blocks because like somehow this kid who doesn’t even have more reiatsu than him, whose arm strength should not be an issue, is like. making him nervous?? as sword sparks fly. if you know me at all you know I hate when they fuckin’ firework sparkler-ify swords clashing.

Anyways, all of this happens whilst Shinso is the wrong length and Gin’s hair is getting purpler by the second and this entire thing is somehow a big jack-off to Toshiro’s immense strength even though he’s screaming and wailing at Gin like a child and Gin’s just a vessel at this point to Enhance Toshiro, which, fine, okay, but at least be more accurate with it god damn. ANYWAYS,

THEY JOUST. They literally run at each other, swords centered, and run past / to the side of one another. Jousting. “Cause that’s how that works. No slashes, no cutting motion. Just swords centered, because the animators were like “no worries guys I know swordfighting basics that’s a legit pose” yeah it is WHEN STATIONARY. Not rUNNING IT DOWN.

And then Gin’s sleeve is cut, somehow, from the Jousting, because wow Toshiro wow wow wowowowow, and then Toshiro comes back and starts wailing at Gin again and Gin blocks it, again, and it’s all very annoyingly repetitive, and Gin’s frowning and sparks are flying and Gin’s using Shinso, the katana-length wakizashi I guess, with two hands because like I said, the animators knew basics and basics are “katana are used two-handed” like. Okay, you’re not wrong, but I cannot stress this enough: SHINSO IS NOT A KATANA. It’s shorter and meant to be used single-handed!!!! sTop!!! So then Gin rips off the tattered part of his sleeve and throws it at Toshiro, who swipes it away from his face using his Zanpakuto because that’s intelligent and a piece of cloth was definitely threatening enough to use your sword to bat it away ( btw, Hitsugaya wasn’t holding his sword with two hands at this precise moment, so he could have just... used his other hand ) and then Gin goes in for the classic “stabby stabby rapidly at you while the animation gets a little breather because we repeat this cycle a few times with flashy bgs and phew money made” ... WE ARE FOUR MINUTES AND THIRTY SECONDS INTO THIS FIGHT BY THE WAY. Gin does this for seventeen (17) agonizing seconds straight. Yes, I counted. That was sixteen and a half too many seconds for me, personally.

Toshiro somehow lassos Shinso whilst Gin is stabby stabby-ing with Hyourinmaru’s chain component. I say component like it’s somehow some type of beauty guru’s lipstick holder, but really am I that wrong ? When else has he ever used this feature ? Anyways, he lassos Shinso because yeehaw I guess, god I’m falling apart at this point can y’all tell????? I need a drink.

and so, because now Toshiro has Gin’s sword somehow trapped with chain even though it’s just looped around it, he backflips over Gin for a cool trickshot, no blow issued, just vibes, and Gin uses a big brain moment to tug Shinso and the chains slide off. okay now what. We’re past five minutes into this fight, nonstop.

SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD TIME FOR GIN TO PAUSE AND APPRECIATE TOSHIRO AGAIN! “I see, I shouldn’t have underestimated you, HItsugaya Toshiro” I’m starting to have a feeling Gin’s VA was told to just wing these lines because the amount of times he fills silences / Gin’s mouth movements with Toshiro’s long-ass name is astounding, he’s definitely drawing blanks here but he sure as hell knows one thing: that damn ice-boy’s name. He continues by saying “I suppose I’ll end up regretting it afterwards.”

Toshiro says that’s not enough, and it’s really dramatic and cool. His eyes even glow all icy and blue and pretty, like his flowy reiatsu. Aesthetic points were gifted entirely to Toshiro’s animations in this scene. Gin was finished in MS Paint and each new scene they had to draw Shinso from memory and try to remember what hue of purple his hair was at gunpoint. Toshiro lets off a big wave of reiatsu and then it vanishes, and he jumps up reaaaally high. like this guy’s flying. his eyes arent glowing anymore that’s sad. Bring Back Glowing Eyes For Strong Shinigami 2k21.

Toshiro releases his Shikai, and it’s badass, the sky darkens, Izuru looks distinctly more worried than usual, and Gin’s frowning with his teeth out like Bugs Bunny’s having a bad day, all is right in the world. Toshiro and his released Shikai have a nice moment for the Pics, and a big epic freeze frame blur moment happens with it all coiled and swirling around him. Wrow! ( click the ‘wrow’ it’s a link to my exact reaction ) Izuru narrates for the third time about how powerful Toshiro is, his reiatsu, his Zanpakuto being a deity who is only unlocked every few centuries. The strongest ice-type sword. Pardon the pun, but that’s... you could say, so cool.

It can even control the weather. So hey, next time it’s rainy, cold, icy, or snowing and you’re unhappy, it’s time to direct a big fuck you at Toshiro.

Gin dodges the first dragon, and blocks the second with Shinso because blocking water and ice with a sword makes sense right? This actually takes a solid amount of seconds as Gin cuts through the entire length of this ice dragon noodle. Things dissipate, and pause, too, to really drag this out. Surprisingly, this reveals that Gin’s made a boo-boo, his left arm’s frozen, which doesn’t even mean anything because Gin is right-handed, and Toshiro teleports himself behind Gin in true fighty fashion.

We have arrived at seven minutes and just under twenty seconds of this fight, and Gin turns, DOES THE UNTHINKABLE, gasp! He opens his eyes. His red, dull, evil, gray-eyebrowed with purple hair eyes, and shoots Shinso through its hideout spot behind his haori. This nearly takes off Toshiro’s eye and upwards of his head, but the little guy dives down fast. The rest happens in slow motion, supposedly, because it takes an eternity and people talk entire full sentences in its span of time.

Gin asks Toshiro if he’s sure he’d like to dodge that ( it’s a little late for that ) and says that Momo’ll die if he does. SHINSO SCRAPING ALONG AGAINST HYOURINMARU STRANGELY MAKES NOT A SINGLE SOUND. Mute. Even though before they had no problem animating and adding sounds to them smacking blades earlier. There are soundless sparks though, so there’s that. Yay. Can you tell how exhausted this’s made me? I need a nap.

Shinso is already more than halfway towards Momo, still unconscious, she most definitely has a serious concussion via Toshiro backhanding her midair consider she’s been unconscious for longer than ten minutes. Toshiro has time to get up off the floor where he dropped to dodge, realize with a shocked gasp, turn, shout her name, and watch as Rangiku arrives in a random glow of gold which never happens ever again and blocks the attack with Haineko. Haineko almost cracks on the impact, and continues growing in damage as Rangiku holds Shinso there, implying that she’s stopped it from reaching one-hundred sword’s lengths to pierce Momo. Yes I’m including that implication / note in here because we love to see Rangiku succeeding in life and being Not-Helpless, all while potentially damaging Haineko severely if it wasn’t able to hold him off. Yikes, Gin!

Rangiku threatens to join the fight if he doesn’t withdraw his sword. Gin smiles, withdraws it, and then Shunpos away.

Whatta mess. Oh, and the anime fight was pretty fucked up, too.

This is a long post, but here’s the manga version:

Toshiro leaps into the air,

This is where the fight actually starts between them:

And end.

Five pages. Two blows. Does not equate to ten minutes of non-stop fighting and monologues. Sometimes, and I mean this in the most unbiased way possible, less is more.

#[ out of character ] masquerade; hide your face #me: i wanna reply to things!!#also me with eyes glowing red: no.#long post #LOOOONG POSTTTTT...#4 pages.#of text.#im so sorry.

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gottlem · 3 years

Note

‘let me go’ but like angsty lemyanka maybe if lemon is moving back to nyc from toronto 💔

here u go ! the most angsty thing i have ever written and will probably ever write. i havent proofread it bc its late, im tired and i got a bit carried away and ended up writing 1.7k words so.... yeah. hope u like it ! <3

“let me go”

Lemon and Priyanka were clearly in love. Everyone knew it, everyone could see. Deep down, they both knew that they were, but no matter how many times they ended up in eachothers beds, it just never came up. Because if it did, well, Lemon’s not too sure what would happen. But it would be a lot, maybe too much. So she decided to stick with friends with benefits, nothing more, and it worked. For a while. Until she didn’t know what counted as overstepping anymore and calling Priyanka her friend just felt like a lie, even though it wasn’t, not really. But the ‘not really’ part is what fucked her up.

Lemon could only deal with so much. She had her walls, they were strong and tall and Priyanka was the only one who could get through, but they just didn’t feel like they were protecting her anymore. One day, she feared they would become a little too high, a little too unstable, and crush her. And she didn’t want Priyanka to have to deal with that.

She had already made the decision to move back to New York before she even admitted it to herself. She tended to listen to her brain over her heart - you’re less likely to get hurt that way. Somehow, this time round she couldn't quite tell which part she was listening to, but before she knew it, she was on the phone to her friend Jan asking for a place to stay.

Jan was more than happy, albeit a little concerned, for Lemon to live with her for a bit, claiming she could use the company and the help with rent. It was a win-win situation. Though, was Lemon winning? She wasn’t so sure, she was however very stubborn and once she had made her mind up, there was no going back. It would be nice to see her New York friends again, they hadn’t fallen out of touch but things are always harder when you’re so far apart. Besides, she needed a change of scenery, she missed walking the streets of the city that never sleeps.

The real reason behind her decision was Priyanka. She didn’t tell anyone about it but Jan, knowing she would need at least some form of support once the train arrived. She just couldn’t bear to keep up with whatever their current situation was, but also she wasn’t sure she had the courage to talk about her real feelings, so the only option she could see was to just run away. They could keep in contact, a couple of texts and maybe a bi-weekly phone call, and Lemon could find some other girl to fall in love with and then she would be over her.

She didn’t know how to be in love, and even if Priyanka could show her, she didn’t know if she was ready, if she was prepared. Because love was scary. Commitment, too. It’s not that Lemon was scared they would end up breaking up, she was scared that they would never break up. She was still young, and while some people long to find the love of their life early on, Lemon found herself staring at hers right in the face and it just felt too overwhelming.

She had started hinting to Priyanka that she missed her New York friends about a month before she planned to be leaving. Priyanka would suggest a week’s visit, and Lemon would just shrug it off. She just didn’t want it to come out of the blue when she finally told her that she'd be moving. And yet, all her hints didn’t stop Priyanka from being surprised.

It was dark out, and the pair lay not so comfortably in Lemon’s bed. It was too hot but neither had the energy to do anything about it, so they stayed there in silence, Lemon slowly building up the courage to speak.

“Hey, Pri?” She barely recognised her own voice, hating the crack that came out when she started speaking. Priyanka hummed in response, turning her head to face Lemon’s, eyes trained on the side of Lemon’s head as the yellow haired girl stared blankly at the ceiling. Eye contact would be too much, she didn’t want to see Priyanka’s face when she told her.

“I’m moving back to New York.”

Silence.

More silence.

Then, the shuffling of covers and creaks of floorboards as Priyanka grabbed her stuff and left. Somehow Lemon didn’t register any of it until the door had shut behind her. She closed her eyes and went to sleep.

The next day, Priyanka showed up at her door again, not too long after the sun rose. She looked tired, but Lemon said nothing because she probably looked the same.

“Sorry for just, leaving. I, uh, I was pissed off? I think?” Lemon’s jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry, you were pissed? At me? Priyanka, I get that I could have told you sooner but don’t pretend like telling you would have made me change my mind.”

“Wouldn’t it? Why are you moving anyway? When are you moving?”

“I miss my friends. I miss New York. I need a change, a get-away. I leave in two weeks”

“Jesus Christ,” Priyanka almost stomped past Lemon, sitting on the couch with an angry thud. “You’re telling me, you move to New York in two weeks, because you miss your friends, and I am only just finding out now? That is bullshit, Lemon”

Of all of the reactions Lemon anticipated, this was not one of them. They never argued. They always poked fun, never too serious, always having a good time. But this was new. Lemon didn’t even know how to argue with Priyanka. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to react to hearing her full name, and the way she said it too. Lemon couldn’t quite place a finger on how Priyanka was feeling, not used to not being able to read her like an open book, and she fucking hated it. But if Pri wanted to argue, then they were going to argue. Lemon didn’t make this decision on whim, she needed to do this, she needed to move, she didn’t have a choice.

“God, Priyanka, do I need to tell you everything? It’s not like I’m your fucking girlfriend!” She regretted saying it the second it came out of her mouth, no matter how true it was. They avoided the word ‘girlfriend’ like the plague, but apparently this was the line that needed to be crossed to have this discussion.

“No, you don’t need to tell me everything, but if you’re moving to New York? Yeah, maybe tell me. Maybe mention it before you have to leave in two weeks, for fucks sake, Lem”

She had stopped shouting, her voice sounding a bit more tired and defeated that angry. Things were complicated. Lemon thought running away would be the easiest option. And maybe she was right. Maybe the easiest option was still hard, but it was too late to change her mind now. The damage had been done, and now Priyanka knew that she would be getting on the train in two weeks time, and they didn’t know when they’d see eachother again after that.

They spent all day talking. Avoiding direct eye contact, getting goosebumps every time their hands accidentally touched. Unsaid ‘I love you’s floated around them, taunting them every time Lemon went over her excuse for moving. They hid behind sad smiles and even sadder eyes, but never managed to actually surface, not like they ever did anyways.

They pretended like nothing happened the next day. Instead, they opted to make the most of the last week and a bit left they had together, refusing to mention the fact that time was slipping, or how much they would be lost without each other. Lemon spent her nights on the phone to Jan, planning logistics, but mostly trying not to cry about how she was leaving the woman who was quite possibly her soulmate in another country for however long without telling her how she feels.

Her final day in Toronto came round after what felt like a short eternity. She was only slightly ready. Her yellow suitcase rolled next to her and she drowned out the noise of the train station with her earphones on full volume. A coffee warmed her shaking hands as she waited for the train she was obnoxiously early for. Not long past before she felt someone sit down next to her and place a hand on her shoulder, startling her from the daze she had managed to force herself into.

Of fucking course it was Priyanka. And of course she was looking at Lemon with tears threatening to shed. Lemon placed her hand in Priyanka’s after taking out her earphones, and gave it a small squeeze.

“I don’t want you to go” Lemon wished she could kiss her and say she didn’t want to go either. But she couldn't because she would be lying. She wanted to go. She loved Priyanka, and Priyanka loved her. They both knew it, without it being said. But Lemon just wasn’t ready.

“I know. I’ll miss you” Priyanka shook her head and tears began to fall down her cheeks, one by one then all at once.

“God, Lem, what went wrong? Do I have to fucking beg you to stay or something? I don’t understand why you have to move all the way to New York, I don’t know what I’m even supposed to do without you here”

Lemon refused to cry. She absolutely refused. When she felt the back of her eyes stinging with tears, she simply shook her head and pushed them back. Not now. Not in front of Pri.

She took her other hand, and looked Priyanka in the eyes, inching in closer and closer.

“Pri, I’m going, and it’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna be fine, and you’re gonna be fine, okay love? It’s time to just… let me go.”

Lemon released her hands and stood up, the action followed by Priyanka, who gave her a bone crushing hug, still crying. When she finally let go, she gave her a small kiss on the top of her head, and Lemon had to hold back her tears for the millionth time within the past five minutes. They looked at each other for just a moment, once again opting to not say anything, despite it being their final chance. Lemon gave a small nod, as if in response to the silence, before turning away and walking to her platform. She didn’t look behind her. And if she stopped holding back her waterfall of tears the second she faced the other way, she could hide that from Priyanka too.

#lemyanka #anon #lemon🍋#lemongivesyoulife #priyanka love #im sorry its unresolved #normally i kinda hate angst bc im too messed up already for that shit #but i think now i have learned to love it #however if anyone maybe wants a pt2 #i will be happy to write #bc this is practically an entire fic #i got pretty carried away

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fletchphoenix · 3 years

Text

He’s Helpless

so i saw @betrayedtraitor ‘s post about Donella being the ultimate mom at the varigo wedding and couldn’t resist writing some supportive Donella :)) enjoy! I’ll try to link the OG post but ya!

--------------

Donella was happy.

Sure, Hugo had fucked up royally and betrayed her in order to help his boyfriend open the Eternal Library and, consequently, get possessed by her old partner, but he had found his happiness. She wasn’t one for sappy shit like soulmates or changing yourself at the last minute for the one you loved in order to make them happy - she used to despise it and think it was some bullshit trope for lonely people to indulge in, but somehow her son had well and truly proved her wrong.

She’d trained him up since he was a child to be the exact model of what she was - a thief. She taught him how to defend himself from attackers if he had to, how to steal and remove any trace that he was ever there, hell, she’d even trained him that the world was cruel and unforgiving, and that any hope you had would be crushed in an instant. She taught him love was simply something that people used to build you up and make you think you had purpose before they revoked it almost immediately. She really thought he’d accepted her ideals fully.

And then Varian came along.

Of course it would’ve been Ulla’s son to change her son’s mind. He’d inherited the moonstone blue, wide and curious eyes that his mother had, and her obsession with alchemy that she’d also passed on to her son. Maybe that’s why Hugo had gotten so attached to him, having someone so similar to his age and with the same interests, of course after years of having just Donella around him who was interested in alchemy, he’d instantly connect with someone else with that very interest.

It didn’t surprise her when Hugo had told her that he and Varian were together romantically. In fact, she had a bet going with Cyrus to see how long it was taken (which, by the way, she’d won, thank you very much) and supported the couple endlessly. They were adorable together, the pair clearly loving each other more than anything else in the universe and willing to do anything for each other.

What did surprise her was how long the proposal took. It took far too long for the pair to finally decide to propose, Donella was sure she’d turn to ash before they even decided to bring up the option to each other. So when it happened, needless to say she celebrated silently and tore into Hugo as though she were a starving animal and he was a piece of meat.

“I am very disappointed in you, Hugo. Very very disappointed.” She declared, pacing across the marble floor in the hallway, the heels of her boots clicking against it as her son gripped onto the hand of his now-fiance. They must’ve been scared, both boys shaking in each other’s arms before she turned her head to look at them. “I mean, really. You’re my son and you didn’t even propose first! I seriously can’t believe it! You seriously took so long that he had to take matters into his own hands!”

“Oh my g-Mom, you literally had me terrified!” Hugo complained as he leant forward, frowning at Donella and kissing Varian’s forehead as Varian cackled from laughter. Donella smiled softly and subtly as they held each other, nodding in approval towards her son-in-law before turning her back to them.

“All jokes aside, I really am happy for you two. I’m just disappointed it took you so long considering how many hours I’ve sat through you gushing about Varian and how he’s the ‘only person in the world for you’.” Hugo’s face flushed at that comment, his fiance smirking as Donella chuckled. “Anyway, get back to the party.” She ushered them back in with a smile before the widest grin in her life appeared on her face and she headed back in.

It was her proudest moment for her son to come to her for advice about her vows, though she’d never expected for his original draft to be so...long. She swore he’d been going on and on about the boy’s freckles for a whole month before finally moving on to something else. It was her fault - she’d tried and tried and tried to stop the boy from talking too much when he was a child, though it was a habit he never broke out of. He made a massive deal about a lot, and though it was useful in their previous line of work, they were good, (mostly) non-thieving people, and the need for an overbearing and..very weirdly specifically detailed explanation of something was no longer a necessity.

“You’ve been talking for 40 years about freckles, Hugo. Just-come here and let me show you how to do it.” she complained, leaning forward and taking a quill, dipping it generously in some ink before proceeding to examine the speech. Editing and crossing things out left,right and centre, she finally settled back with a sigh and looked at her son. “I know you love him, Hugo. I can tell. But seriously, some of this is just...not needed at all.”

“What do you mean?” the blonde asked cluelessly, sitting beside her and fixing his tie, “I think all of it is quite relevant.”

“You talked about how he snorts when he laughs and how many freckles he has, followed by a detailed description about their shapes, sizes and if they join together to make a constellation. That..it’s sweet but I felt like slamming my head into a wall and praying that it knocked me out completely for three days. Just...try something like this.” She began, picking up some parchment from the table and beginning to scribble down some notes, handing the sheet to her helpless son. “That can be your starting point.”

Hugo took a glance at the paper, cringing at the monotonous words on the page. “I...okay, these are truly something else. I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” He muttered, before something flashed over his face. “Oh ma. That reminds me. Me and V have been talking and uh..we wanted to know if you want to officiate the wedding. We thought you’d be the best pick for it so...what do you think?”

Donella’s heart soared at the prospect, though her face would never reveal the true extent of her emotions. Her son was really giving her the honour of officiating the wedding after everything that had happened between them. A tear must’ve welled in her eye, as Hugo’s face shifted into a frown. “Ma, are you okay? You..you don’t have to do it.”

Hesitantly, she pulled her son into a tight embrace, the boy seeming stunned before reciprocating the hug and holding onto her. “Yes-yes I’ll do that for you, Hugo. It would be an honour.” Donella declared, her face buried in her son’s shoulder as she let a few stray tears loose.

She was so proud of him when he read out his vows without a hitch, the abridged version of the original speech was marginally better thanks to meticulous planning from their combined efforts. “Are you crying, ma’am?” Cyrus questioned as her son stood hand in hand with his husband at the altar, their fingers intertwined and looking picture perfect, almost as though they were in a dream.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cyrus.” the woman declared as she raised a tissue to dab at her eyes while the ceremony continued in front of her. Hugo’s eyes shone with pure joy, matching his husband’s gleeful expression as they finally exchanged rings and shared a kiss with each other. She could even hear their friends, notably the Queen, King, Star princess and Firecracker (as Hugo had declared them) cheering and laughing out loud as they finally tied the knot.

And though she would later deny it, she still indulged herself in a few glasses of wine and rambled on and on about how Hugo was as a child, despite his pleas and begs for her to stop. She couldn’t help it - she was a mother after all and she was sure Ulla would’ve done the same if she were here.

Still though, as she looked at her son and the way he shared his first dance with his husband, he knew the pair were destined to be together, and that fate truly did exist as well as soulmates and all that lovey dovey shit she had been so quick to deny prior to their meeting. So as Donella leant back against the body of her once-henchman Cyrus, whose other arm was wrapped around his wife, she accepted the fact that she was content with whatever the future had to hold for the pair.

Donella was happy.

#varian #varigo #tangled varian #varian tangled #tangled hugo #varian x hugo #hugo tangled #varian and the seven kingdoms #hugo x varian #rapunzels tangled adventure #tangled the series #tangled donella #donella tangled

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fific7 · 4 years

Text

Your Soul is Mine

Sirius Black x Reader

@omgrachwrites 500 Follower Celebration

Angst prompt 13 : I want all of you - your body, your heart, your soul

Summary: Sirius Black is about to be claimed whether he likes it or not... forever.

Warnings: Swearing, spiking, coercion, jealousy, revenge, mentions of sex so 18+please, slight dom/sub overtones. Age of consent is 16 in the UK, sorry if that’s not in line with your own country’s/state’s laws.

A/N: I do not condone spiking or coercive behaviour but the reader’s a bunny boiler, sorry.

(My GIF)

Y/N Y/L/N was a proud and determined Slytherin. Ambitious, smart as a whip, cunning when she needed to be. And she had a temper. Boy - did she have a temper.

But when it hit, she would never explode. Instead she’d become deathly silent, eyes narrowing, lips pulling into a thin line, thoughts whirring, working out exactly how she would bring retribution down on whichever unfortunate soul caused her outrage.

And that was precisely her current condition. She’d been strolling down to the lake, intent on having a short break from studying Potions when, giving a little gasp of excitement, she’d spotted Sirius Black.

He was lying in the shade under under a tree. But ... not alone. He and a girl were entwined like vines, mouths locked together, her hands running up and into his famed wavy long black hair.

Before the rage ensued, Y/N felt the sudden & excruciating pain of a dagger to the heart.

Only two nights ago, Y/N had been the one entwined with him, that beautiful, awful boy - in his bed, in his arms, totally immersed in his sweet kisses and honeyed lies.

“Hey Y/N, of course you’re not like all the others - you’re so special to me.”

“Of course this isn’t a one-time thing!”

“I really think this is the beginning of something beautiful between us.”

Ah, yes. And, clearly, judging by the evidence staring her in the face, that meant being his fucktoy whenever his busy ‘schedule’ allowed for it. An intolerable position for a prideful Slytherin to be in.

Well, fuck that, Sirius Black. And... fuck you too, Sirius Black, six ways from Sunday.

And to add insult to injury, she was supposed to meet him in the Gryffindor common room the following night, for yet another of the Marauders’ parties.

A plan dropped into her seething brain. Yes. Yes... with a little fancy footwork, that could work. A small smirk formed on her lips.

He wouldn’t know what hit him.

*********************************

Sirius had told her to be outside the Gryffindor common room at 9. She was there promptly, of course.

She laughed to herself as she stood waiting outside it. He didn’t even trust her enough to tell her the stupid bloody password to his stupid bloody common room. Her foot tapped in irritation as the clock slowly ticked to 10 past 9. The freaking idiot can’t even be punctual!

The portrait hole eventually opened to reveal a tipsy Sirius, who looked her up & down before licking his lips and holding out his hand to her, drawing her into the room. He was in his off-duty uniform of vintage jeans, rock band t-shirt & Doc Martens. Still looks too hot for his own good, she thought, instantly annoyed at herself for thinking it.

His fangirls were certainly of the same opinion, she thought sourly, judging by the adoring looks coming his way (peppered with jealous dagger looks at her), as he helped her step through into the common room.

“You look gorgeous, angel,” he said, slurring his words just a little bit.

Her skin-tight emerald green dress, sky-high silver heels and artfully messy up-do were designed to get male attention, and it was working like a charm (ha ha).

Not at all pleased by the admiring glances she was attracting, Sirius huffed as he walked her to the table-serving-as-bar, hand on the small of her back, slyly running it up & down as he did so. He poured her a glass of firewhiskey. She downed it in one, and he burst out laughing.

She shrugged, smirking at him, “What?! I’ve got some catching up to do.” She placed her bejewelled clutch bag on the table, next to the bottles of firewhiskey.

His own glass was empty too, and he reached over to pick up both, but she laid her hand on his bare arm.

“Sirius,” she breathed against his ear, “let me fill that right up for you.” She smirked, “And maybe I’ll let you fill me up later on.”

Predictable response from Sirius, she was pleased to see. He froze, eyes meeting hers, mouth slack. “Uh... right. Right... uh, sweetheart.”

She handed his glass to him and he downed it in one. “Sirius! That’s just greedy,” she chided him.

He laughed out loud. “Let’s dance, love.”

*****************************************

Later, much later, they lay tangled together, naked & exhausted, on his bed.

“That was amazing, sweetness,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath.

“Mmhmm.“ she nodded in agreement. A heartbeat later, “Sirius?”

“Yes, love?”

“Remember how you told me, the first time we were together, that it was the start of something beautiful between us?”

He cleared his throat, “Umm... uhh... yeah?...Yeah.”

“Well... tell me how come I saw you two days later, kissing some mouldy little tart by the lake?”

He tried to sit up, but she pushed his shoulders back down. He held both hands up, palms out in a placatory gesture. “Look, Y/N, that was nothing, it wasn’t my idea, she started it...”

“Oh, and you just gave in, did you?”

“Well, yeah....”

“You know, Sirius, you really should be more careful what you do and what you say to people. I can hardly bear to admit this, but I actually believed what you said, all those lies... all that fucking bullshit.”

“But... Y/N, sweetheart...you know... you know I don’t do...”

“Relationships? Oh, I did hear that once or twice, yes I did, Sirius.” She laughed to herself. “But you should know, I liked to think that I would’ve been the one who finally tamed you - the bad boy. Tied you down, stopped your man-whore ways.”

Her hands on his shoulders kept him pressed down on the mattress. He spotted her placing her wand carefully on the bedside table. What the fuck...??

He was starting to feel really, really dizzy. He broke out in a cold sweat, and Y/N’s voice sounded like it was coming from far, far away, then much closer, then distant again.

He closed and re-opened his eyes, to find hers boring into his, staring intensely at him... did they look, yeah they did look... kind of red? That couldn’t be right. What was happening to him? He shook his head, in an attempt to clear it.

“Well,” she said, “this is your lucky night, sweetheart!” She slowly licked down one side of his neck. He let out a huff of breath.

“You see, I want you, Sirius. And I’m going to have you, it’s as simple as that. And I want all of you, your body, your heart, your soul....!”

His mouth opened, he tried to yell, but no sound came out. He felt invisible tendrils wrapping themselves around him, from neck to toe. Getting tighter and tighter. He couldn’t move and he was starting to gasp for air a little.

“And I’m taking them. All of them, Sirius! ...I’m just gonna take them from you, d’you understand?!”

She shook her head, feigning sorrow & remorse. “You’ve left me no choice, darling, as it’s highly unlikely you’ll give me them of your own free will.” Sirius just stared at her, still not comprehending exactly what was going on.

She trailed a finger down his neck, his chest, his stomach, ran it playfully through his money trail a few times before heading between his legs. She closed her hand over his velvety length, and stroked him firmly a few times. He huffed out some rapid breaths, knowing that he was very quickly getting hard.

“Do you like that, lover?” she purred. He nodded, then quickly shook his head. “Yes or no, which is it, darling?” He nodded again. Why was he incapable of speech, he wondered? Then shook his head again.

Laughing, she said, “I’ve cast a silencing spell on you, by the way - again no choice, sorry, sweetheart! Well, let’s see if this next little number gets you to make a firm decision. Although it’s only a formality, cupcake. Your body - every inch of it - totally belongs to me, after all.”

She leant over, roughly licked his tip, then kissed it lingeringly, before swirling her tongue round it and down his hard length. He writhed under her, still feeling the invisible tentacles curling round him. His head thrashed to & fro on the pillows, desperately trying to ignore the sexual onslaught happening to him, but still unable to.

He froze as he felt her tongue moving slowly & sensually over his balls, then without warning, she grabbed them.

His hips involuntarily hitched upwards. He heard her low laugh, and then she started squeezing, not too hard but still making him totally tense up. She placed her lips against his, kissing him hungrily and forcing her tongue into his mouth. Cupped his cheek, stroking the stubble there and on his chin.

Lips next to his ear, whispering to him.

“I’ve got you by the balls, Sirius, and you will never escape. Never, do you hear me!? “ she smirked in triumph, pulling back to look down at him. She straddled him, knees on either side of his thighs, trapping him even more.

Greedily, she drank in the sight of his handsome face underneath her, silky black hair spread out on the pillow, wide grey eyes staring up at her, long dark lashes resting momentarily on his cheek as he closed them briefly. When he reopened them, she laughed out loud as she saw the lust in them, mixed in with total confusion, he just couldn’t hide it.

She leant closer to him, lips touching his. “You remember how good I am at potions, yeah?”

He nodded, suddenly terrified. He still wasn’t able to speak. She sat back up.

“Well, I cooked up a special little concoction just for you. Slipped it in your firewhiskey earlier. And once I’ve said your name 7 times within 7 minutes, it’s gonna fully kick in ..... and then I’ve got you for eternity.... Sirius!”

Sirius felt the weirdest sensation he’d ever experienced in his life.

He felt as if he and Y/N were melding together. Pulling him up with the sheer power of it. As if his very body, heart & soul were being sucked out of him and being pulled into her body, fixing there permanently in an unbreakable bond.

Then it was over. His body collapsed back onto the mattress. He felt so dizzy...... and weak. So very weak.

Her voice again, whispering, whispering, whispering.

“I possess you now, Sirius. You’re completely and utterly mine, until the end of time.”

********************************************

Sirius quite frankly didn’t know how he’d managed to make it all the way to 16 (almost 17!) without having a steady girlfriend. Now that he’d found Y/N and they were finally together, life was just so wonderful.

He’d bounced downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast the morning after the party, announcing to the Marauders - and anyone else within earshot - that he’d found the love of his life. To say they were all shocked was an understatement, but Sirius didn’t care. In fact, Sirius seemed almost delirious.

It was in fact Y/N projecting her intense pleasure, through Sirius, at how well her plan had worked out.

All of his moods in future would be hers, but he wouldn’t ever know that.

She’d dug out her Advanced Charms mini-handbook from her clutch bag, after her possession potion had done its work. Pity she couldn’t tell Slughorn about that one - it was truly excellent!

She’d cast a sleeping spell on poor, confused, exhausted Sirius as he lay sprawled on his quilt, and then Obliviated him of everything that happened after leaving the party. She didn’t know the spell that well, as it wasn’t one she’d needed before now, and still had to read up on the details before she cast it.

Y/N had left a note on his pillow, which he’d eagerly grabbed as soon as he awoke. Ah, she’d just nipped down to her own dorm for a nice relaxing shower. He sighed happily, snuggling back under the quilt. His girlfriend, his lover, his soulmate. He loved her so very much.

(What he didn’t know was that Y/N was totally shattered after her little excursion into the Dark Arts. She ducked out of classes for that whole day. But she still had no regrets whatsoever. As she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, she chortled to herself, guessing that Muggle psychiatrists would probably deem her to be a sociopath. At the very least.)

Sirius almost felt like there was a telepathic link between the two of them. Amazing! Any time he even looked at another girl, Y/N’s face would appear unbidden in front of his eyes.

Her sultry, soothing, controlling voice would reverberate in his head, “Now, now, Sirius, down, boy! Remember who you belong to, yeah? ... I’m the only one who gets to touch you. Good boy, good boy!!” and he would feel the immediate need to run off and find her. Which he usually did, unless he was in class.

Whenever he did find her, she’d immediately demand sex from him. She made him strip in front of her. He would willingly peel off his clothes, as she lay back & watched him reveal that slim & athletic body she adored. She made him have sex in every single position she could imagine. Tied him to the bed all night, sometimes. “C’mon, Sirius! sex all night!” she’d order, like an Army Sergeant Major.

He felt compelled to obey her. Until he was so exhausted that by the morning light, he could hardly walk. He didn’t really mind the sleepless nights and jelly legs. Well, he couldn’t disappoint his darling girlfriend, could he?

She would smirk and run her hands through his hair, the same way that tart by the lake had. Not any more, love - sorry. Not sorry. In the least. Y/N would murmur his name and praise his prowess.

Funnily enough, the ‘girl from the lake’ had come looking for him, two days after the party. Y/N felt like that was poetic justice. She’d been suggesting another ‘interlude’ by the water. Sirius told her he didn’t know A) who she was and B) what she was talking about.

She didn’t notice Y/N lounging on the sofa behind Sirius, advanced charms book laying open at the O’s, smirking with wand in hand. The girl burst into tears and ran off, never to return. Y/N smiled so broadly, her face hurt.

She sometimes wondered if she loved him. She wasn’t sure, and didn’t really care, to be honest. She was totally obsessed with him, she knew that. And she owned him. Every piece of him. That was more than enough for her.

His fangirls were all broken-hearted; they were forever going to be out of luck in future.

His friends laughed at him, saying he was just so whipped.

Anytime she saw the grieving fangirls, or overheard his friends’ comments, a small, self-satisfied smile would appear on Y/N’s face. She’d sigh happily, and go back to her Potions essay.

**********************************************************

#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #ben barnes

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bangtan-yeonghon · 4 years

Text

Oath | Final Chapter | Jungkook

Genre: Angst | Mafia!AU

Summary: What if one day everything you ever wanted is taken away and your whole world comes crushing down? If you were to forget today, who would you be tomorrow?

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Word count: 15.3k

Eyes glued to an empty mug, muffled sound of outside voices dissipating through vacant rooms, cold stillness engulfing the surroundings. You had been standing there for hours, staring at the note Jungkook had left you, pondering whether to go back to Yoongi, like he had asked, or just run away God knows where. The latter sounded so promising, a brand-new start in place so far not even history could reach you. But was there such a thing in the mafia? Sure, some must have made it, but how many have died trying? If Yoongi would not have caught you leaving the country, then you would have become leverage under torture or, much simpler, a corpse at the hands of Black Tiger. You were cornered at this point, nowhere to run, even though anthems of rebellion ringed in your head. All the time being pushed from one side to the other, under orders, under lies, had left you craving freedom. And even though it was clear that Jungkook only wanted to protect you, it made you so angry that even he gave you orders now. You sighed. It was a riot in your head and it was tough to make a decision, or maybe the decision had already been made the moment you stepped foot outside. You just had to get through this alive with hope that whatever Jungkook had in mind was not just another failed attempt to escape.

That night, with you in his arms, Jungkook finally got the chance to properly rest. He had been on the edge ever since he had lost you, and it had left a mark on him. But now, for a brief moment, he had you in his protection and nobody on his tail, so he could relax. The next morning, during the early stages, when the city was at its most silent and still point, he wrote you a note and went out the door. He wanted so badly to just lay with you a few more moments, to caress your cheeks and brush away all of your worries with his lips, but he knew there was no time for that. Things were moving at an alarming pace. He scanned the area just to make sure Black Tiger had not sent another leech, and drove off. Not even half an hour later, his phone started ringing; it was his father.

"What do you want?"

"I do have to say, I am impressed. Your source is valid. My boys told me Yoongi was there when the trade went down."

"So now you trust me, as a leader."

"Not really. You have any idea where Namjoon is?”

A wave of fear ran down his spine, but he kept his composure. Black Tiger should under no circumstances find out what went down at Paradise Hotel, otherwise him and Y/N would be the first to take the bullet. He made sure to kill all the men that were with Namjoon that night, leaving no trail behind. Yoongi also made sure to get rid of the cars and any other trace that would lead curious minds to them.

“I have no idea.”

“You’re the last person that saw him, don’t you find it weird?”

“Listen, I almost shot him when I caught him following me. I would still do it, gladly, if I saw his face.”

“I still don’t trust you, kid. You better not let me down. I need you to do a favor for me. Jin had been bugging me, asking about Namjoon. Find out where the bastard is."

“Why don’t you just let Jin handle it, then? I have more important stuff to do."

“Jin is too sloppy, he’ll get himself killed before he finds anyone, and I still need a good doctor. I also promised his dad the boy will be under my protection. And you, boy, shouldn’t act so cocky, you might be the leader now, but my orders are still yours to follow. Never forget that!”

“You want me to bring Namjoon back to you?”

"I don't have any use for him anymore. At this point, I'm not even sure he is still alive, but I need to know his whereabouts."

"What for? Just to stop Jin?"

"You ask too many questions, kid. Just get me the location and maybe I will give you my full trust."

Just as the dial tone started ringing in his ear, Jungkook threw the phone on the shotgun seat and took an U turn. The new task put pressure on him and he was all tense, but in a calm manner, as if he had expected this to come.

Back at Yoongi's place, Hoseok was giving updates on Taehyung's status. He was now stable, but not yet out of coma. When was he to wake up was a question nobody but Tae had an answer to. The two were casually exchanging information, with such composure that it would have made even the most anxious person feel like everything is under control. The only thing that disrupted the tranquility of the scene was the ringing of a phone, Yoongi's. There were very few words exchanged, at least on his side, but that call brought the meeting to an abrupt end. As he led Hoseok out of his office, Yoongi thanked him for his support and help and asked him one more time to make sure Taehyung was going to make it out alive. They shook hands, and Hoseok gave him a reassuring look before he headed out.

You stared out the window of the car, wondering if you have made the right decision. It was still not too late to tell the driver to turn around and take you back, or take you straight to the airport. Your heart was pumping hard against your chest as you got closer to the destination. So many thoughts, so much fear and hate. Yet, deep down you knew there was no other choice. And you missed Jungkook, you missed him so much it was hard to breathe, but again, you knew he had no other choice either. It was just another series of bad timing and fate pulling you apart, yet another trial for your love. Amidst all that a car passing by caught your attention. More precisely, the driver.

"Hoseok..." a faint whisper escaped your lips as your eyes traced the car. "Turn around."

"What?" the driver asked, clearly confused.

"Follow that car, please, before you lose him."

"Ok..."

"Please don't lose him, please!"

"Miss, I don't think this is legal. I don't want to get into trouble...."

"You won't. I'll pay you double, just please, follow him."

Just the mere thought that he was headed to wherever they were keeping Taehyung was making your heart race at full speed. When the adrenaline level started to go down, it made way for doubt to creep in, which brushed away some of that initial excitement. What if that gut feeling was actually flawed and Jimin had been right all along...what if Tae was actually gone? What if Hoseok was just roaming around the city aimlessly, which had hardly been the case, but what if? So many questions to which you held no answer, only one car leading you to them.

Hoseok stopped in front of a modest two-storey motel, nothing that would give off the idea that on a bed behind those wooden doors, there lied an almost dead gang member in hiding, and that he was the one in charge with keeping him alive. Your eyes traced his movements. He got a bag out of the trunk, scanned the area with a quick glance, and made his way to one of the apartments. You paid the driver, double, as promised, and got out of the car just as he closed the door behind him. Your mind was spiraling with excitement, anxiety, doubt, curiosity, fear, and anger, a dangerous mixture. You were in a trance, feet moving across the pavement out of reflex, nobody left in charge. Your ears were almost ringing when you reached the door, hands shaking as you got ready to knock.

You gasped just as your knuckles were about to touch the wood. In an eternity, that had actually been closer to one second, you were at gunpoint. Your brain could not even process when the door flung open or where that gun came from. You stood there frozen in time and space.

“Y/N?!” Hoseok asked, visibly shocked and confused. He noticed your dazed state and quickly pulled you inside, making sure to check if nobody else was on his tail. He sighed and decocked the gun.

Your eyes filled with tears, turning everything into a blurry mess. You felt one ball of liquid fire hit your cheek and slide down as the picture became clear. On a bed just a few steps away, as if by a miracle, laid a man, a man that had haunted your dreams and wreaked havoc on your soul. He was not awake, nor did he look good, but he was very much alive, just like that deep voice inside your heart had said over and over again. He was there, Taehyung was there. You felt a pair of hands land on your shoulders and the image of Taehyung faded to black.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hoseok inquired, this time harsher.

“I could ask the same thing,” you responded, voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You started shaking again. Inside a storm was building up, catching more speed and power as it went from your stomach to your heart and brain.

“You didn’t have to know, not now, at least.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t have to know? I didn’t have to know?!? Me, out of all the people didn’t have to know?!? Fuck you!!!” you pushed him, full force. “Fuck you, and fuck Yoongi, and especially fuck Jimin! All I heard from you were lies, lies, lies, and for what? It was fun seeing me all confused and trusting you like a fool? It was fun to have me as your pet?” you pushed him again. “You were so bored you just decided to fuck up my life as a means of entertainment??”

“Calm down! This is precisely why you didn’t have to know. You are putting yourself and us in danger with your quick temper and reckless behavior.”

“Oh, is that so? Is that what I am doing? Then tell me, Hoseok, how would I have put you in danger, had I known Tae was still alive? Would I be here screaming my lungs out now? No! Would I have followed you all the way here? No! Would I have even tried to run away? Definitely no! I put my life on the line so many times for you, I have been tortured and stayed loyal to the family, and this bullshit is what I deserve?”

“It was what was best for you, for both of you. With Jungkook back in the picture, Taehyung would have only suffered and made stupid mistakes, just like you.”

“So thoughtful you are…” you stared at him in disbelief. “And lying to me, making me loathe myself, making me hate every moment I am breathing, thinking that it was his life that saved mine, and that I will never ever get a chance to make it up to him again, is that what is ‘best for me’? And Tae? Did you think he would like seeing me this way? Did you think keeping me away would make him wake up faster or what? I just needed to know he was alive, that’s it.”

“Are you really that sure that you would’ve been so calm and composed?”

“Yes!” Your eyes burned with anger.

“And you would’ve stayed by his side? Even if Jungkook wouldn’t have agreed with it?”

You had another answer on the way, but the words got stuck in your throat. Truth was that you would have never done anything to hurt any of them, you loved Jungkook, but also cared deeply about Taehyung. You would have stayed by his side only to make sure he was getting better, but in the end, you would have still left him for Jungkook. It hurt when you thought about it, but that was the truth.

“That’s what I thought,” Hoseok continued. “Now be a good girl and go back to Yoongi. He’s been looking for you.”

“No.” You had your eyes glued to the ground now and spoke in a very calm manner. “I am not leaving his side. I want to stay here for a while.”

“Y/N…”

“I won’t do anything, I won’t run, I promise. Just let me stay with him, please. I am useless to Yoongi right now, but I can be of use here. You can go help him, and I’ll take care of Tae. It’s a win-win.”

“He won’t be pleased to know you are here.”

“I can talk to him. This is all on me, you have nothing to do with it.”

“It’s not me I am concerned about.”

“Cut the crap, I don’t buy it. Been through a lot of your bullshit to make me second guess your intentions,” you said coldly as you walked past him towards Taehyung. You kneeled next to the bed and looked at him. He had an oxygen mask on and an IV bag next to him. In all this chaos, he looked so peaceful.

“I am honest.”

“Hard to believe. Tell me what he needs, what I need to do.”

With a smug grin tattooed on his face, Black Tiger sat back in his leather armchair, cigar in one hand and glass of bourbon in the other. Everything seemed to be aligning the way he wanted. He felt invincible. A movie played in his mind: him hovering over Yoongi with the same expression he was so boldly wearing, stepping down on him as if to illustrate the new hierarchy. He was so caught up in his daydream that he did not even hear the knock on his door, only footsteps getting closer behind him. He turned around only to see Jungkook with drops of blood all over his clothes, bruises and cuts on his face, and eyebrows furrowed as he threw a piece of paper on his desk.

“There’s your location,” Jungkook said and made his way back to the door.

The old man reached for the paper and smirked. “All of this in just one day…what an accomplishment.”

“Are you implying something?”

“Do I have to?”

“Your tone makes it seem so.”

“It just surprises me how loyal you have been to us, considering everything that has been in the past, oh, and let’s not forget that your girl is with them. What makes you suddenly so desperate, so motivated to follow my commands?”

“We made a deal. I stay loyal, you leave Y/N alone. You named me the new leader, I need to rise up to the expectation, is that not so?”

“I know that, but you see…there is this, how should I put it, this gut feeling that there’s an ulterior motive for this obedience of yours.”

“Trust me or not, just stick to the deal. Leave Y/N out of this.”

Little did Jungkook know that Black Tiger was only playing with his head. The man was so absorbed in his own glory that he couldn’t care less about the boy’s motives. He got what he wanted.

Jungkook was about to exit the room when Black Tiger spoke again.

“Your job’s not done, kid. Come here, I have something to give you.”

Upon hearing those words, Jungkook clenched his jaw. What else did he need from him now? He knew his father, once he had someone in his grasp, he would not let them go until he used them to the max. He unwillingly moved towards his father with an inquiring look. All he wanted was to take a shower and get some sleep, but apparently that was out of question.

“You gave me an address, I give you one too,” Black Tiger said as he stretched his arm towards Jungkook, holding a piece of paper between his index and middle finger. He took in a big pile of smoke from his cigar as he watched his son stare at it in a confused and slightly pissed off matter. “Yoongi’s next deal.”

“What do you want me to do with it?”

“I’ll send some boys; I want you to go with them.”

“Are you sure this deal stands?”

“One hundred percent. Got that man you brought in and some other guys to dig it up, I am certain Yoongi will be there. You’ve been one of them, you should know best his MO. If things look bad, I trust you will take my boys out before it all goes to shit, or else Y/N will be so very disappointed, I will personally make sure of it.”

Jungkook smashed his palms against the wooden desk, giving his father a death glare as he spoke. “You will not get to touch her ever again, you hear me? I will personally make sure of it. Got that?” He pushed back and walked out of his office.

“Go make your father proud, Jungkook. And don’t come back empty handed; bring me proof you killed that cocky piece of shit.”

Jungkook paused for a short moment, then shut the door behind him and walked down the hallway towards the main exit. Midway his eyes landed on Jin who was heading towards Black Tiger’s office. He saw curiosity and concern in his gaze.

“What the hell happened to you?” Jin asked, coming to a standstill as Jungkook passed him by.

“Nothing.”

Jin stood there for a second, watching him walk away, wondering what it was that made Jungkook so angry. He felt it in his voice, the rage within, yet he seemed so composed and focused. Something was going on for sure. He got carried away for a minute, trying to figure out what could Jungkook possibly be thinking. When he couldn’t find an answer, he proceeded on knocking on the door.

“Yes?” He heard Black Tiger say from the other side.

“Good evening, sir!”

“Ah, Jin! Come in!”

“You asked to see me?”

“Ah, yes. I wanted to talk to you about something. Come, sit, don’t just stand there, it’s making me uncomfortable.”

It was strange to see Black Tiger in such an euphoric state. Usually, his brows would be furrowed and his voice harsh, but now he seemed surprisingly relaxed. Jin took a seat on one of the armchairs placed in front of the desk as the leader of the organization fiddled with some bottles of liquor.

“Do you want some?”

“No, thank you, I’m good.”

“Your loss.” He poured some more bourbon in his glass and sat in front of Jin. “So, I saw you running around, trying to find Namjoon, asking my men, asking others, making waves, till they all reached me. And you know how I don’t really like noise around me, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but ever since he vanished, nobody seemed to be truly looking for him. I just wanted to make myself useful.”

“You are useful. With your doctor suit and your doctor skills. Stick to that. It’s your sole role within this group. I got enough men to run errands for me, I don’t need more, especially when all they do is fuck things up for me. Got that, son?”

“I just find it weird that he would disappear like that. It doesn’t make sense. And I am sorry to say this, sir, but you don’t seem very willing to find him.”

“What I do or don’t do is none of your goddamn business.” He took the piece of paper Jungkook handed him earlier and threw it in front of Jin. “There’s the address you’re looking for.”

Jin stared at the words written on the note, lost. So he had been looking for him all this time? Or was it Jungkook who gave him the address? Is that why he was so bloody? He tried to piece together the facts, but something was still not adding up. Why would Jungkook, out of all the people, be the one to go to such length to find Namjoon? He had a lot of doubt, but nevertheless, he got what he wanted. He shoved the paper in the back pocket of his jeans and got up.

“I am sorry, I didn’t know,” Jin said as he bowed in front of Black Tiger.

“It doesn’t matter. Don’t you ever talk back to me again. I have enough problems on my head as it is, taking care of you, children, is the last thing I should be doing. I’ll send some of my men to your place tomorrow, wait for them, don’t do anything stupid.”

“I will, thank you!”

“If you find him alive and well, tell him that if he wants to keep breathing, he should be smart and stay away from me. I don’t tolerate cowards. Now go, I want to rest.”

With a bit of hope and somewhat of a clearer mind, Jin went home. He did not know what to expect, but he did not waste time worrying about it. After all, what use is in worrying over something you can not control? It is just a waste of time.

As soon as he left Black Tiger’s mansion, Jungkook headed back to your apartment. He hesitated about entering, thinking you would still be there, fearing it, actually. He trusted you, but he was aware of your recklessness at times. With a promise to drag you to Yoongi’s place himself, he went in. It was empty, no trace of you, except for a barely lingering scent that was witness to your presence there the previous night. He saw the note he left you still on the table, and assumed you followed his instructions. How surprised would he have been to discover your true whereabouts? He would have probably flipped to know you were alone in a very remote place, nobody in close range to save you, were something to happen. Moreover, he would have been pissed to see you by Taehyung’s side. He knew you loved him, but this connection you had with Taehyung still bothered him. He jumped in the shower and let the water wash away everything that had happened throughout the day. After that he took a seat on the sofa and made a single phone call before falling asleep. He could have used the bed, but without you in his arms, it felt too cold, too empty, and it made him crave you even more.

“Yes?” a man’s voice echoed on the other end.

“It’s all set. Tell the men to be ready.”

“It’s done.”

“We might have a problem, but I’ll try to work my way through.”

“I trust you.”

Just a few days have passed since he got shot to save you, a few days of internal turmoil thinking he had died, but feeling that he was still alive. And now he was lying there, in a room that had been specifically redesigned by Hoseok to match that of a hospital. He had even a special bed brought it, just to make sure Taehyung got the best treatment possible. His vital signs were good, he was slowly improving. After Hoseok left that night, you spent the whole time caressing Taehyung’s face, dragging your fingers across his eyebrows, playing with his hair, all the while tears rolled down your cheeks.

“I am so sorry…. this all happened because of me. I am so sorry, Tae! Please, please, wake up. Promise me you will get better and you will wake up. I am right here, I am alive because of you. I should be dead. This is all my fault!” You said in a voice so soft it came out almost a whisper.

Later that night, Hoseok returned. It was somewhat safe for you during the day, but he preferred to spend the nights there. Plus, he needed to be there in case Taehyung’s health was deteriorating.

“I told Yoongi about your decision,” Hoseok broke the silence as you were both munching on the food he had brought along. “He wasn’t very pleased, but he said he understood why you wanted to stay here. He said to call in case you need anything, and that you can come back to the mansion any time you want.”

“Was he angry?”

“Angry, no, concerned, yes. He grew to like you quite a lot, you know. For him you are his little sister. He might not show it, but he didn’t quite get over losing her, and when you came in the picture is like he found her again. Yes, we did lie to you, some of us with good intentions. Yoongi wanted to tell you the truth on a few occasions, only that he saw you and Taehyung so happy that he just let the lies live on. The family was coming together beautifully with you around. Sure, there have been moments with Jimin that disrupted that peace, but it was always nice having you around. Even me, I enjoyed teaching you everything I did. I am sorry I had to lie to you, and thank you for obediently listening and following orders all those times, thank you for being here, helping me with Tae.”

“No need to thank me, I am doing this for him and for myself. Your apology is accepted, but the trust between us has been broken, and that will take time to heal.”

“I understand.”

“You know,” you continued, after a while, with a faded smile, “I always liked this cold, rational side of yours. You and Yoongi make such a good team when it comes to brains. You both keep your composure, no matter the situation, I like that. I wish I were as cool as you.”

“You’re a volcano,” he laughed.

“Yeah,” you too followed.

“It’s not easy to control your emotions, but after you’ve been through what we’ve been and had to lead and coordinate people, to make sure it all goes well and nobody ends up dead, you kind of become like us. It has more to do with continuous training, than it does with a default way of being.”

You looked up at him and smiled.

“What’s that for? Are we friends again?”

“I’m just thankful you are here, let’s just say. And that for once, you opened up.”

“I didn’t quite have the chance before. That guy,” he signaled into Taehyung’s direction, “wanted you all for himself.”

Your eyes traced back to the bed.

“Yeah, I guess he did. I hope he will wake up soon.”

“It might take a while. A couple of months to say the least. But if he carries on like this, he will be out of the danger zone for good in about a week or two. He’s a strong guy.”

“He is….”

That night, although you missed Jungkook’s warmth, you finally could sleep peacefully. No more nightmares, no more emotional storms, no more crying. It was as if every cell in your body suddenly loosened up and was allowed to recharge. Hence why the moment your head landed on the pillow you fell into a deep and well-deserved sleep.

The next day, just as promised, two men were waiting for Jin just outside his residence. He was a bit skeptic as he approached them, but got in the car and headed towards the given location, anyhow. The navigation led them through the outskirts of the city towards what looked like an abandoned factory. It was on the verge of shabby, but nevertheless suitable for a hideout.

“Something about this doesn’t seem right,” said Jin. There was a numb feeling in his gut that things were not what they seemed. He knew Namjoon well enough to figure that: one, he would not just vanish without a word, and two, he would most certainly not hide in a place like this. He had his hotel penthouse, plenty of security, plenty of comfort. That unless he was hiding from one within the group, which made no sense again. He was scared of Jungkook? No chance. Black Tiger then? Well that had a bit of reasoning behind it, but why? Namjoon had been following hid orders ever since Jungkook became the new leader, even though he felt betrayed. He had been loyal to the group before anything else. Come what may, he was going in.

They looked around the building for signs of anything odd, they checked the windows, but they were covered in dark paint, too dark to see inside, finally they opened the front door and entered with guns ready to fire, was Jin’s feeling to come true. They took a few steps inside. Apart from the light coming from the open door and the cracks in the roof, there was only darkness.

“Namjoon-ah! It’s Jin. Black Tiger gave me the address.” No answer. “Yah, Kim Namjoon, get out, I want to talk.” He took a few more steps ahead. That gut feeling of his became stronger. Right when he was about to turn around and leave, thinking there was a misunderstanding and he got the wrong address, a form moved in the shadows straight ahead. Before long, a dozen of men came into the picture, some with guns, some with large wooden sticks. He was right, it was a trap. They were surrounded and outnumbered. They had no chance of survival, so engaging in a fight was out of the question. Jin slowly put his arms up, followed by the other two.

“Hahaha. That was too easy,” a voice echoed. There was another one out there, but his face was still covered in darkness. As he came forward, light started to glide over his body, from his toes to his head, revealing his identity. Park Jimin. “And here I was getting all excited, waiting for you. I was expecting at least a bullet, some resistance. What a bummer.”

“Where’s Namjoon?” Jin spit.

“Woah, woah, slow down, partner.” Jimin walked all the way over to where Jin was standing. “You are in no position to ask questions here, as you can see,” he pointed at the guys surrounding them, “and you will first need to take a seat over there. You see, I am a well-mannered man, I don’t keep my guests standing, I make sure they have everything they need to be comfortable.” He signaled the guys to grab them and tie them to the chairs. They were already prepared, placed in a small circle, back to back.

“You’re Yoongi’s men, right?” Jin asked again, as he was being tied down.

“You are curious about so many things. Why? Knowing the answers will help you how, exactly?” Jin could not answer. “That’s what I thought. Settle in and don’t use up your energy, you’ll be staying here for a while. And unless you want a sock shoved in your mouth, or better off, a gun, you’d better keep quiet. I’m gonna go take a nap.” Jimin waved his hand as he vanished into the black.

“Fuck!” Jin groaned. There was no getting out of it. And he had it, he knew something was off. If only he had listened to that first impulse. It was too late, nevertheless, and instead of regrets about the past, it was better if he filled his brain with a plan to get out of this situation alive.

Later that night, Black Tiger was starting to get suspicious. He kept wondering how come he heard nothing from Jin all day long, considering he should have arrived at the location by now. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. No answer. He dialed again. This time, someone picked up.

“Yeah?”

A voice he wasn’t familiar with.

“Who is this?”

“Why do you care?”

“You’re not Jin, so I should assume he is with you.”

“You got that one right, he is.”

“Namjoon as well?”

“Questions, questions… is this how everyone in that group works? Listen here, you need to work on your security and stuff, we’ve got two of your men already. This one especially was easy to catch, but not because he is incompetent, but because you are! You sent him right into the lion’s den.”

“Yoongi…” Black Tiger hissed.

“That’s right, only that the one talking right now is Park Jimin. He sends you his regards, though. He told me to let you know that we’ll bring you down, one man at a time; or maybe is it just something I wanted to say?” He laughed, then continued on a serious note. “Oh, and don’t try to come to the rescue, we’ve already changed locations. Just sparing you the humiliation of adding more failure to the list.”

The call got disconnected before he could say anything else. The grip around the phone got tighter. His tension spiked as blood started boiling in his veins. How was that even possible? How was Yoongi once again a step ahead of him?! He proceeded into calling another number. This time, he got a bit luckier, the receiver answered in no time.

“Yes?”

“Where are you?”

“I had some errands to run. Why?”

“What errands?! Uh, nevermind, get here now!!”

Around half an hour later Jungkook entered his office. His father was hovering over his desk, head in his hands. There were bits of broken glass and plastic on the floor, which he traced back to a now shattered phone lying on the floor, covered in fine dust coming from the grazed wall that had brought about its glorious yet tragic ending. It seemed someone was in a bad mood once again, and someone else was about to have to face all that bottled-up anger.

“Tell me how it is possible for both Namjoon and Jin to be in Yoongi’s hands right now,” Black Tiger spoke in a calm manner.

“Tell you what?” Junkook kept a poker face.

The old leader raised his head and sat back in his armchair. “Don’t play stupid with me, kid.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Yoongi got Namjoon and Jin?”

“Was I not clear enough? Do you want me to explain it to you like I would to a five-year-old?” With each word he was getting more and more worked up.

“Who told you this?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter! Tell me how they managed to get four of my men!!”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook stressed every word.

A loud bang reverberated throughout the room, making Jungkook’s heart pump harder. His father’s fury had clustered into a wave of energy that made everything on and around the desk vibrate, after he smashed his fist against it. When he was in this state, it was impossible to figure out what his next move was going to be, so Jungkook did not know what to expect. But he was determined to proceed with the same composure.

“You gave me the fucking address!”

“Then they must’ve lied to me!”

The old man reached for the gun hidden in one of the drawers, cocked it, and pointed it at his son. There was no trace of parental love, no sign of remorse, just emptiness. It has always been like that. To him, Jungkook was no more than an instrument, a weapon, and an insurance that his legacy would go on. But if he were to betray him, that would instantly turn to dust and he would become the first one to get the bullet.

“Look me straight in the face and tell me you had no hand in this.”

“I have no hand in it. I just did what you told me, got you the address. That’s all.”

His hand was shaking with rage as he aimed at his child’s forehead. Jungkook never broke eye contact. His calmness and confidence proved to be enough an answer for his father, who slowly put the gun back. He fell into the armchair, once again with his head between his hands, as if a killer headache had been giving him a hard time to think.

“Tell me who told you this. For all I know, it could be a trap,” Jungkook continued.

“One of his fucking men. He had Jin’s phone.”

“Should I go there?”

“No, stay. I need you for the other thing.”

“What about Jin? His father will start asking questions.”

“I’ll see about it. You just focus on what I told you to do.”

“The men are ready, the plan is in the making, we just need to wait now.”

“Finally some good news for the day.”

Black Tiger walked up to Jungkook. He placed his hands on both of his arms, giving him a faded but proud smile. For the first time ever, Junkook saw a trace of emotion in that man’s heart. He would have been touched, hadn’t he already known that it was not coming from a place of love for him, but more from that of pride for seeing himself in his descendant. He would not have gotten the same response was it something else he had brought up, something that would not profit him directly. That is the kind of man he was, always chasing the gain, not the people. Give him something to feed his ego and he will love you forever, waste his time with other things and you will get a taste of his poison. Taken a little aback by his father’s sudden change of heart and attitude, but not surprised, Jungkook felt washed over by a sense of relief. Nevertheless, there was no time to linger in the feeling as the tide could shift at any point, biting him harder than ever anticipated. Instead he flashed a smile mirroring Black Tiger’s and cut the meeting short.

“I should get going.”

“The one that gave you the address, where can I find him?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” said Junkook. He bowed as the other man returned to his place.

“If you can’t get anything out, get rid of him. And more importantly, make sure you get Yoongi. I want him dead!”

Black Tiger’s loud voice echoed behind Jungkook. On his way out, Junkook looked more determined than ever. Like he had said, everything was set, it was only a matter of time. Hell was about to break loose.

Things seemed to be going smoothly for the next week or so. Black Tiger had been informed that the man with the false address had been taken care of, he had also received a picture showing Jin all well and very much alive, all the while he had been busy trying to find where they were holding his men captive. It was to no avail. Little did he know that they have not even moved from the initial location, they only went underground. But Black Tiger was so focused on the bigger picture, that details like this escaped him. To him getting rid of Yoongi was the ultimate goal. He had frequent talks with his son about how things were to go down during the so-long-awaited day, and needless to say Junkook did not fail in creating a solid plan that made his father’s heart pump with excitement. Precisely three days were left. The men were perfectly instructed and armed. No element fell out of place. This confidence blended with pure arrogance were the sweet blend that had fed Black Tiger the past days. He would go to sleep happy that he was one day closer to seeing his enemy’s downfall.

And such came D-day. Yoongi had a weapon transport coming in on the early hours of the day, when the sun has not yet risen. According to the man Jungkook had served Black Tiger on a silver plate, Yoongi was the type to personally attend large trades. This one was just that. Jungkook had rounded up his men and went through the whole scheme once again. It was a still morning. No wind, no noise, nothing but tranquility. To some it seemed eerily quiet. Everyone was already on their positions, hidden in buildings, behind large containers, in vans, waiting for their pray.

Around the given time, a distant roar made all of them jump into their focused mode, patiently listening as it drew closer and closer. One black sedan and two other SUVs pulled in. A few minutes later a van appeared from the opposite side. They watched as men started to get out of the cars, about a dozen of them, easy prey. Jungkook overlooked his people; they were ready to go in and cause chaos, only waiting for his signal. He stood in the back seat of one of the vehicles, scanning the area.

“The motherfuckers are already doing business, but I don’t see their leader. What should we do, boss?” the driver asked Jungkook.

“Leave it to me. Just wait for my signal,” he said as he stepped out.

“What?!”

The one behind the wheel was bewildered. That was not in the plan, but then again, neither was Yoongi not showing up. Trusting his leader, he sat there and watched. Jungkook walked in a slow and confident pace. He made sure all his team members noticed he had everything under control and would not mess everything by going on a shooting spree. Each of them had an ‘WTF’ plastered on their face, but followed Jungkook’s lead and stood put. They were, however, ready to jump into action at the simple rise of his finger. When he reached Yoongi’s men, none of them got their guns out, which struck some as odd. Back in the car Jungkook got out from one of the guys was getting anxious. He pulled out his phone and called Black Tiger.

“Job done?”

“Not yet, sir. Something feels off.”

“What the fuc-“

“Yoongi’s not here.”

“What?”

“It’s only some fuckers. Jungkook went over to them.”

“He what? What the fuck are you all doing?!” Black Tiger screamed.

“I guess he is stalling…until Yoongi shows up.”

“Stalling…fucking stalling!! Fucking Min Yoongi!!!” An array of anger screams and cusses filled the void. He the took a deep breath and continued. “Ok, alright…stall…just get that piece of shit! I am tired of hearing his name.”

Just as he was about to end the call, hell broke loose. Out of nowhere, bullets started flying through the air. In the confusion that paralyzed everyone, a bunch of individuals showed up out of nowhere, tipping the scale in their favor. The ones still standing started fighting back, but they were soon to fall victims to them. Hearing the commotion, Black Tiger got agitated over the phone.

“What the fuck is going on over there?!”

“They’re attacking. We’re outnumbered. We’ve been fooled! It’s an ambush!” screamed the man. Little did he know those were about to be his last words. He had already been grazed by a bullet, his pulse was high, his ears were ringing and his mouth ran dry as he looked at the carnage ahead. The one next to him was already dead, head resting on the dashboard while blood poured on the floor in a thick waterfall. The sight was horrid, the smell of death was in the air, and there was no way out. He turned on the engine, but just as he was about to drive off, he noticed someone standing outside the car, to his left. All he managed to do was turn his head only to be greeted by the barrel of a gun.

“They’re attacking. We’re outnumbered. We’ve been fooled! It’s an ambush!”

“What?! What the fuck are you talking about?!! What ambush?!?! Answer me you worthless piece of shit!!!”

The veins on Black Tiger’s neck and forehead were now swollen with rage. All he could hear over the phone were gunshots and screams of war. He could not wrap his mind around it. An ambush? When he was so confident the plan was going to work. He went through it with Jungkook three times before, there was no room for mistakes left, yet an ambush, for that they were not prepared. There was no need for it, after all. Who would have expected them to show up there? Nobody! Unless, someone ratted them out to Yoongi. The grip around his phone was so tight that it could mash it, but he couldn’t feel it, he couldn’t feel anything, for that matter. He couldn’t even hear the commotion outside his office, not before it got loud enough to overshadow the voices in his head, some obsessed to find the culprit, some cussing, some thinking about what to do next. He shifted his attention to the door.

There were multiple distant blasts followed by shouts, similar to the ones he heard through the phone, only that the call had already been disconnected. These ones were coming from behind that wooden door. Fueled by the fire inside him, Black Tiger pulled out his gun and barged into the hallway.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

His men were running up and down the stairs, hiding behind walls, columns, turned-over tables, anything that could provide some shelter. The air was polluted with debris. In the corner of his eye, he saw a male taking big steps towards the stairs. He had his arm stretched forward, shooting everyone that stood in his way. In that sea of bullets, he seemed like Moses. Only that he was no superhuman, and his arrogance brought about his demise. With no remorse or hesitation, Black Tiger pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger. One of his men, witness to the scene, fled his refuge. He went straight to his boss, wrapped his fingers around his arms and swiftly pushed him back inside his office. He locked the door and proceeded to barricade it with one of the bookshelves. Funny enough to think a mafia leader would have an entire wall covered by bookshelves, but his were housing various models of weapons, fine liquor, fine ceramic, stone or wooden sculptures, miniature cars, and boxes of very expensive cigars, all on display to show off his wealth. Little did he know that that was all he had to his name, wealth. Except for a very small circle, nobody ever talked good things about him. They envied him, sure, but they also disrespected him as a person. The only respect he got was through extortion.

“What the fuck is going on?? How did they get in?! Is this what I pay you for?” Black Tiger screamed his lungs out. It was yet still not enough to eclipse the chaos that echoed through his mansion.

“There were too many, boss.”

“How did they even get here? We have gates!”

“They must’ve had a man on the inside, otherwise they wouldn’t have breached. The gates at the entrance to this residential area are strong enough to withstand the force of a van crashing against it at top speed. We have cameras and people monitoring day and night, nobody saw anything strange. They came out of nowhere.”

“We have a mole. A fucking mole!! Did you recognize whose men they are?”

“They seem to be Yoongi’s, boss.”

Again, that name. Like a thorn in his side, only that it was now closer to puncturing his heart than he had ever imagined. Vanity had blinded him, it brought him to his knees. He had venom instead of blood flowing through his veins now. “Min fucking Yoongi…” he thought.

“Fucking piece of shit!!” he groaned.

While Black Tiger was busy with his own thoughts, his bodyguard was looking outside the windows, checking if it was safe for them to make an escape through the garden. It seemed to be clear. Slowly, the rows of bullets died out.

“We need to get you out, boss.”

They were both staring at the entrance, as if waiting for something to happen. And it did. Another sequence of ammunition pierced through the door, making wooden shards travel though the air in all directions. A symphony of grave blasts and sharp crystalline tunes coming from empty cartridges hitting the floor made their ears ring. They both ducked down behind the desk. In an instant, it all went silent. Without hesitation, the bodyguard turned to opening one of the windows, while Black Tiger listened to the voice coming from the other side of the door.

“Cut it off, this lame game of hide and seek. There is no way out, this time, old man.”

“Min Yoongi,” he growled with teeth clenched.

“It’s clear, you can go,” his man instructed.

He helped him get up and jump out the window to the back garden. Sneaking behind bushes and trees, they managed to reach the front gate, but just as they were about to escape, a man appeared in front of them, blocking the way.

“Jungkook!” Black Tiger exclaimed in a soft and shocked voice.

Out of all the people, Jungkook was the last person he expected to stumble across. Much to his surprise, he was alive and well. What he wasn’t aware of was that while his gang members were being shot by Yoongi’s, Jungkook was already on his way back to the mansion.

“So glad you’re here! You need to get us out of here.”

Looking at the man, Jungkook almost chuckled. To think that this wimp standing now in front on him with wide eyes and a face drenched in fear was the same person that once stood tall above everyone, so full of himself and self-assured about his illusory immortality. It would have been a lie to say he did not enjoy seeing his father in this state. All those years of suffering under his tyranny, all the humiliation, they all lead up to this moment. He almost pitied the old man. In an undertaking that nobody would have been able to foresee, Junkook pulled out his gun and pointed it at Black Tiger’s forehead. In an instant, the other gang member did the same to Jungkook.

“What the fuck are you doing, kid?” Black Tiger growled.

“You’re not leaving this house. I don’t care if he’ll shoot me, you’ll be touching the ground before me, anyway.”

“You’ve gone crazy! Did it get to your head that you’re a leader now that you forgot who the real boss is around here? Get this shit out of my face and remember your place!”

“All these years, doing everything you ordered me to, quitting anything that ever made sense to me just to meet your needs and be a good son, all the times I took a beating for not meeting your standards, all the times I looked at people on the street wondering how it would be like if my father was like them, they all made me quite aware of my position now. You have to face it, your days are gone, old man.”

“W-what? My days are gone?” he started laughing then stopped abruptly, glaring at his son. It was as if the very thin last trace of human emotion had been wiped away. “Get rid of him,” he continued coldly.

The man to his left was hit by a shockwave. He was about to shoot the son of a very influential figure in the mafia world. That would cause him a lot of trouble, but also would going against the word of the said figure, since it was his order, after all. Making all the connections in his head in less than a second, de decided to go with it. Too bad that the moment he took to think it over proved to be the mistake of his lifetime. Jungkook had shot him before he got the chance to pull the trigger. He was not there to play games. Seeing the dead body at his feet and the gun aimed at him again, Black Tiger now realized that as well.

“You’ve changed, Jungkookie. Did you forget whose side you’re on?”

“You made me this way. And now it’s time I pay you back.”

Behind Black Tiger, a group of men came in view. Stepping out of the house, one by one, they were getting closer. Jungkook shifted his attention to them for a second, just enough to meet Yoongi’s eyes, then landed it back on his father. He was blissfully unaware that his mortal enemy was walking right towards him. Jungkook maintained his position. All the rage and anxiety that have haunted him over the years were now replaced by pure disgust. It was just as he had always known: in the hands of his parent, he was solely a tool. How crude and selfish of a being can one be to demand the death of his own child in order to escape?

“I told you there is no point in playing hide and seek,” Yoongi spoke from behind, making Black Tiger’s head snap in his direction. Several men were sitting on each side of Yoongi, pointing their guns at the deposed leader. “You’ve wasted your energy and my time. But I do have to say, it’s been fun seeing you at least try to make a run for it. How does it feel to crawl through the back door like a worm? That’s what you’ve been all your life, really.”

The tone in Yoongi’s voice was cold, and had no trace of vanity. He was finally face to face with the man that took everything he had held dear away from him. It took him years, but the taste of victory never felt so sweet. Black Tiger’s face darkened. He spit in Yoongi’s direction. Looking down at the place where it landed, Yoongi smirked.

“Oh, don’t make a fool of yourself, I can see you shaking under those clothes. Bet your legs are wobbly,” Yoongi mocked him. “Better yet,” an idea sparked in his head, “kneel.” This time, there was a hint of pride involved. He wanted to humiliate the one that seemed impossible to bring down to the ground.

“You dumb fuck think I’ll do that?” Black Tiger laughed.

“If you’re not going to do it, I’ll make you, worry not. I’m just kind enough to give you a choice. One way or another, you will go down on your knees in front of me and apologize for killing my family, you worthless piece of shit.”

“Fuck off, Black Tiger kneels in front of nobody. And I have nothing to apologize for.”

That is all Yoongi had to hear. He pulled out his gun and shot the man in the left knee, thus bringing him to the ground, like he said he would. Cries of pain filled the air as he rolled on the pavement.

“Care to reconsider?” Yoongi calmly asked.

“You piece of shit!!! You fucking piece of shit!!!”

“I’m out,” Jungkook said to Yoongi, visibly unmoved by the scene. It was more of a hindrance, actually.

All the while, his father has been imploring salvation in between groans and pants, not through words, but through desperate stares. The one Jungkook gave in response, however, so indifferent and detached, it took the veil of Black Tiger’s eyes, revealing the mole within the group. He was chasing ghosts while Jungkook had been there with a knife shoved in his back all along. It all made sense now: why Jin got caught, why Namjoon was nowhere to be found, how Yoongi even knew where to find them, how to barge into his house, why he wasn’t present when the deal went down, and how Jungkook has survived the whole ordeal without even one scratch.

“Working with the enemy, stabbing your own family in the back, Jungkookie?”

“Depends on what exactly your definition of family is.” After finishing the sentence, Jungkook turned around and started walking away.

“Jeon Jungkook!!! You are no son of mine!!!”

“I’ve never been,” said Jungkook loudly, but without looking back. He had other, more important issues to attend to, his true family, you.

“Seems like even your own blood abandoned you. Where is the great Black Tiger now?” Yoongi stepped in, crouching in front of his bloody opponent. That drew his attention from Jungkook back to him.

“You will never bring me down.”

“You already are.”

“My boys will get you. You will die at my hands!!”

“I doubt that. Look around,” he pointed at the surroundings and circled the enclosure with his eyes. “Your men are already dead. Expecting anyone else? They won’t come. You’re all alone. And you know what the best part is? It wasn’t even my idea. Sure, I thought about all the different ways I could get to you throughout the years, but I always hit a wall. Yet, your arrogance and blindness brought you straight into my arms. Don’t blame Jungkook, blame yourself. The piece of shit in this story is none other than you. Your greed and egocentric ways brought you here, and it’s time to pay for your sins. On your knees!”

“I will die before I kneel in front of a worthless piece of shit like you.”

“Enough of this drama act,” Yoongi said as he stood up, bored of the man’s lame attempt at keeping his dignity, something he was unworthy of. He eyed two of the men next to him. “Get him up, put him on his knees.”

Following his order, the two each grabbed one of Black Tiger’s arms and struggled to bring him up as he writhed like a fish on land.

“Take your hands off me!! Nobody touches Black Tiger! You will all pay for this.”

“When will you get it, old man? It’s over! You are just embarrassing yourself,” Yoongi intervened.

Not long after, with a bit of effort, the man was pushed down on his knees. His clothes were stained in bloody mud, his hair was a total mess, he looked nothing like the man from a couple of hours earlier, the one thinking that that day was about to call for a celebration. It was indeed, only not the one he had in mind.

“Do you remember their faces? My mom, my dad, my little sister?”

“It’s your dad’s fault! He was selfish.”

“No, no, no, you were selfish. He always gave you a hand when in need and treated you like family, but you ended up swallowing his whole existence.”

The way Yoongi carried himself through the conversation was the definition of dignity. He was standing tall, never once losing his composure nor the control over the situation, his tone was severe, but not smeared in anger. Having a leader they could trust and respect, that had been a key component to the success of his group.

“They say if you really want to make one suffer, to get your revenge, then you should take away the thing they hold closer to their heart. Judging by what you did to my family, I’d have to kill Jungkook. Honestly, it crossed my mind. But he is not your most treasured possession, your ego is. Your ego, your wealth, and your group. So, I decided to go after each at a time, but Jungkook came up with a plan that guaranteed killing three birds with one stone. We struck a deal a while ago, him and I, you see. It sounded too good to be true at the time, I give you that, but in the end, we both got what we wanted. Your ego is already on the sole of my shoes, and after I get rid of you, the name Black Tiger will lose all the value you so treasured.”

“You think you are so different, but we are much alike,” Black Tiger laughed.

“Maybe, but I am the one with the gun.”

One loud bang and the circle of revenge was at long last complete. The sound bounced off the petals of flowers and leaves of trees and echoed in the distance. The rays of the morning sun glided over the spilled blood, giving it a special glimmer. A heavy weight had been lifted off Yoongi’s chest. He looked up to the sky as if he was saying to his family they can now rest in peace. That morning brought about the ending of one’s life and the beginning of others’.

In the car, an image kept haunting Jungkook, that of his father rolling on the ground in his own blood. No matter how cold and unworthy-of-any-sort-of-emotion of a person he had been, he still pitied him. But, at the same time, he was relieved, not that he was finally free from his grasp, but because his father ultimately payed for his sins. The war that everyone expected and feared was over. Things went smoothly for everyone, unexpectedly so. Many nights he stood up considering if it was going to work, worried that something would go wrong and he will lose everything he cherished. Yet, now he was on the way to the very thing he loved the most, you.

Hidden under the blanket with the curtains still closed, you were profoundly asleep. The past days have proved to be quite challenging. There was a whole in your chest, painfully enlarging as time went by. You missed him to the very core, but trusted in his words, that he would come back. You lost and regained hope on a daily basis, it consumed you. You kept yourself from falling apart by thinking that he is probably in a worse position, and that you should stay strong for him. What would he have thought if he knew he is fighting for something you have given up already? You did not want to disappoint nor hurt him even more than he had been.

A soft knock on the door made you snap out of dreamland. You immediately searched for Hoseok around the room with your eyes, while your heart was racing and your mind was shooting all sorts of thoughts everywhere. You found Hoseok next to the door, with his back glued to the wall and the gun all set to shoot. He was tense. It seemed he did not expect visitors either. He tried to glance through the peephole, but the person on the other side had a quicker response.

“It’s me, you can open the door.”

You were nowhere near the entrance and the sound was very faint, but that voice seemed too familiar. You stood up, conflicted between believing the part of your brain that told you it was him, and listening to the other one that tried to save you the letdown of finding out it actually wasn’t him. Your heart kept on racing, but it changed from fear to suspense. Seeing Hoseok relax gave you hope. Could it really be him? The door opened, the bright morning light gushing inside blinding you. When it was closed again and your eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, the identity of the guest was revealed.

“Jungkook,” you managed to say in a very soft voice.

You jumped out of bed with shaky legs and tears in your eyes, and ran straight into his arms. The action pushed him back a step or two and took him by surprise. He was expecting you would miss him, only that not more than he had missed you.

“You came back!”

You released him from the tight grip. It felt so good to touch him again, and the feeling was mutual. You were both staring at each other as if savoring every little detail. Jungkook smiled. His eyes were now filled with warmth.

“I promised you I will, did you doubt it?”

“A little,” you chuckled.

“How did it go?” Hoseok intervened, bursting the love bubble.

“It’s done,” Jungkook replied, looking at Hoseok; then he shifted his attention to you, he tucked a strand of your hair behind the ear, and continued, “It’s over.”

“What is?” you asked, confused.

“Black Tiger is dead.”

“What? How? Did you…”

“No, not me. Yoongi.”

“I am lost…”

“A while ago me and him made a deal. He’ll let me come for you, and I’ll help bring my father down.”

“You had a hand in this…”

“I did it for us, I regret nothing.”

“Yes, but still, he was your father.”

“Trust me, he never was,” Jungkook smiled and pulled you in his warm embrace.

“What now? Won’t they come after you?”

“The ones that would’ve done so are already dead, the others will probably celebrate his death.”

“Yeah, but he was killed by Yoongi, right? So, they will come after us.”

“They won’t, we already made sure of that.”

“How?”

“We plan on merging the groups.”

“What?!” both you and Hoseok shouted. “He didn’t tell me about this,” Hoseok continued.

“He knew you’d be against.”

“I’m not precisely against it, only that I don’t see how this would work.”

“With Black Tiger and Namjoon out of the equation, I am the sole leader, only that I don’t want it. Instead, I’ll try to convince my men to join Yoongi. They have nothing to lose. Those who agree are in, the others are out.”

“You’ll kill them too?” you asked.

“No, baby.” He cupped your face. “They’ll just be thrown out of the group and left with no protection. Like I said, they are left with no leader so they will either have to join Yoongi or go look for other gangs. But with Yoongi being the alpha now, I am confident most will choose to stay.”

“It makes sense,” Hoseok agreed. “But what if they still retaliate?”

“We have enough men on our side to keep us safe, don’t we?” Jungkook smirked.

“So, when will this merge happen?”

“It is already in the works, but it will take some time. I am also meeting with some of them later today. The rest, I will have a chat with after the old man’s funeral. The vast majority will gather to pay their respect. After that, I’m out.”

“Yoongi did mention you’ll come back, but I had no clue this is what he meant.”

“You have been more of a family to me than he had ever been. I might never be able to take back what I’ve done back then, but I hope I managed to regain your trust, at least. You also saved Y/N and kept her safe, for that I will always be grateful.”

“What you did today, it took a lot of courage. You have my respect for that.”

Jungkook and Hoseok gave each other approving smiles and shook hands.

“So where does this leave us now?” you asked Jungkook.

He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you in.

“We are free. Where do you want to enjoy this freedom?”

“Wherever is fine, as long as I’m with you.”

You could not believe it. Deep inside, you still waited to wake up and realize it had all been just a dream. Your mind had been so corrupted during the time you spent in the mafia, that it was impossible to accept a positive change without thinking that a tragedy was waiting for you at the end of the tunnel. But your fingers touched Jungkook, you could feel him, he was there. The details of how he managed to do it all were still hazy, but you payed no mind. As long as you two could stay together, the rest was irrelevant.

“Guess we’ll have to look for a new place.”

“What about our flat?”

“It carries too much pain. We need a new start. Also, we’ve got a wedding to plan,” he grinned as you stared at him, speechless. All you could do was press your lips against his in a soft-but-overflowing-with-emotion kiss.

Hoseok glanced over at Taehyung, pity hidden behind his cold expression. He was lying there, probably listening to every word, without the possibility to snatch the girl and run away to the edge of the world. Was it not for his state, he would have probably punched Jungkook by now and wreaked havoc on everyone standing in his way. It was odd to see him so peaceful in a situation like this. Seeing you with Jungkook sure felt weird for him, having only seen you with Taehyung so far, but he could not help but agree that you were meant for each other.

“If you plan on getting horny, you better get a separate room.”

Hoseok’s statement made you both laugh. He also flashed a smirk on the way to get his phone. There were still things he needed to take care of. With the plan having gone so smoothly thus far, it was his turn to make a move on the chess board. He left more or less in a hurry, leaving the two of you to catch up and watch over Taehyung. He drove all the way to Yoongi’s house and went straight to the basement to pay someone a special visit. He opened the door to the dark secret room, to which he was greeted with an intense stench. In the center stood a chair with an almost lifeless form attached to it. The ropes that bound him seemed to be the only things keeping him in that position, otherwise, he would have surely been on the floor already, with how his head was hanging loosely.

“Get up. You and I are going on a trip.”

The man reacted to the voice resonating through the room, a clue he was still alive. Other than that, he did look very much dead. His skin was pale, his breathing barely noticeable, he was covered in bruises and blood, his clothes were ripped, he had no strength left. He slowly pushed his eyelids open and traced the shadow that stretched to his toes all the way to the one standing in the doorway. He grinned with a trace of disgust. What was even more disgusting was the blood that still covered his mouth and teeth, which made Hoseok grimace.

“Fucker,” Namjoon muttered. “Just kill me, I’m not telling you shit.”

“I’m not here to question you.” Hoseok walked towards him. “You are useless now.” He started untying the ropes as Namjoon groaned. He had been tied for so long, that when the pressure was off, his skin burned.

“May I ask why?” he laughed in a mocking way, with whatever strength he had left.

“You’ll find out. Now up!”

Hoseok shoved his arms under Namjoon’s armpits and pulled him up into a standing position. Only that his muscles were so weak that it made standing difficult and walking almost impossible. Every slight movement hurt, but after all the beatings, he grew used to it. He kept wondering what Hoseok had in mind, as he dragged his feet across the floor. With lots of help, he made it to the car. Seated in the back, with his hands tied, he kept shifting his glance from Hoseok to the view outside the window. The sun was blinding, but the world never seemed more beautiful. Being trapped in a basement, drowning in his own stench to the point he became immune to it, covered in darkness, with no accurate perception of time, it changed the way he looked at things.

“I don’t assume you offered me a ride to ease my mind, so where exactly are you taking me?”

“Don’t waste your breath.”

“You made a deal with Black Tiger, is that it? He made an offer you couldn’t refuse, and now you’re taking me back,” Namjoon said with a proud grin.

“What I couldn’t refuse was having to take you there myself. You reek.”

“You can drop me off, then. I can make my way back.”

“Who said anything about you going back?” he glared at him through the mirror.

“So you’ll kill me then?”

“Just shut the fuck up.”

“Why didn’t you kill me earlier? There was nobody bothering you. Why drag me all the way to fuck knows where?”

“Maybe I’ll just do it here and now.”

“And get your precious car dirty? Naah, I don’t think you would.”

“Try me.”

They fixed each other with death stares though the mirror once again. Hoseok was not feeling Namjoon’s failed attempt at a conversation, his furrowed brows and frigid tone were enough a hint.

“Fine, whatever. You’re so boring.”

Silence fell over them again as Namjoon went back to admiring the surroundings. During the whole time, he had been assessing the situation, evaluating his chances of survival was he to make an attempt to strangle Hoseok and flee. There was a huge gangster sitting right next to him, behind Hoseok, so he had no clear way of getting his arms around his neck. He had no gun, nor was he about to fight the man next to him to steal his, he was too weak. Within 2 seconds of trying, he’d already be knocked out cold by the beast. He couldn’t open the door and jump either, because the car was going too fast. He had no way out of the car, but maybe he stood a chance once they got to the location. He decided to preserve his energy for that, so he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.

It did not take long until the car came to a standstill. Hoseok stepped out and went to get Namjoon. The latter scrutinized the area. Somewhere on the outskirts of the city, not very circulated, no forest nearby in which he could hide, only a shabby structure that once probably served a purpose. With fingers digging the back of Namjoon’s neck, Hoseok forced him to walk into the building. The windows were painted black, so light was scarce, but in the very spots it did come through, he saw a bunch of men surrounding three others tied to chairs. Deja-vu struck Namjoon. His anxiety and curiosity reached new levels. What exactly had Hoseok planned? To add him to the trio? What was this, group torture? He was dead-set on not giving information, disappointing Black Tiger was the last thing he wanted.

“Oh, the guest of honor is here!” a cheerful voice echoed from the other side of the hall.

Namjoon squinted, trying to get a clear view of the one talking. The corners of his lips curled into a cocky smile when he realized who it was. It seemed like the party was just about to begin.

“I am deeply touched to see you’ve been waiting for me, Jimin.”

Jimin chuckled. He sat up from the couch he had been lying on and walked towards one of the three in the center. “See, I told you he will come. I am a man of my word!”

Namjoon stared in confusion. He could not see the other clearly. Who exactly could it have been? He had no relatives, no close connections they could have kidnapped in order to get him to open his mouth. Hoseok pushed him forward. With no support, he wobbled and ended up falling flat on the floor. The others watched as the once almighty gang member exerted himself to get back on his feet. A couple failed attempts and rounds of laughter later, Jimin took him by the clothes and dragged him all the remaining way.

“Still got some strength in you, little sucker,” Namjoon mocked him.

“Oh yeah, I did get a good workout and it added to my strength. Had quite a good punching bag, you see,” Jimin answered with a grin while he threw spears in Namjoon’s eyes with his own. They both laughed, thinking about the time Jimin spent hitting the other over and over, till his arms got bloody.

Curious about the three central pieces of this oh-so-familiar scene, Namjoon looked up. His expression turned sour at the sight. Right in front of him, tied tightly around the torso, and legs, with a cloth stuffed in his mouth, was his sole friend, Seokjin. He figured out the ones next to him were Black Tiger’s men as well. An urge to kill everyone in the room rushed from his heart to his limbs, but it was still not enough to increase the chance of survival. Jin seemed depleted as well. Jimin took out the cloth from his mouth and proceeded to untie him, in everyone’s awe. Anxiety haunted them. Why would they bring Namjoon there and release them? Were they planning on making them run and hunt them down or what?

“What are you doing?” Jin asked.

“What I promised. I have no reason to keep you a prisoner,” Jimin said calmly.

“What game are you playing now, scum?” Namjoon followed up.

“No need for games anymore.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

Once Jimin finished untying Jin, he went next to Namjoon. He looked him straight in the eye and proudly said: “I have an ace up my sleeve,” after which he carried on his way to Hoseok.

“You are free to go. We’ll leave, but don’t try anything stupid, you’re outnumbered,” Hoseok instructed the confused prisoners.

“I don’t trust them,” Namjoon said softly to Jin. They exchanged skeptical looks, after which Jin spoke.

“What’s the catch? You said you have an ace up your sleeve, what is it?”

“It is my greatest pleasure to announce you that Black Tiger is dead,” Jimin answered.

Horror washed over their faces. Namjoon frowned in disbelief. There was no way he was telling the truth. Black Tiger was no easy target, he would not have gone down so easily. What he did not know, was that it had been an inside job. Actually, him falling into Yoongi’s hands made things even easier. If he would not have followed Jungkook and started the feud on the rooftop, maybe Black Tiger would have still been alive, or at least it would have put Jungkook and Yoongi through some serious problems.

“Bullshit!” he growled.

“Don’t believe me? See for yourself.”

Jimin took the phone Hoseok handed him and slid it across the floor all the way to Namjoon’s feet. The screen showed a picture of the deceased resting peacefully in a pool of his own blood. Upon seeing it, two things happened within Namjoon: his anger peaked and his world came tumbling down. He grabbed the phone and threw it back to where it came from. It was the only thing he could do, and he missed the target. Simultaneously, Jimin and Hoseok moved away from the trajectory of the flying object. Unimpressed by the gesture, Hoseok turned around and walked towards the exit, while Jimin started laughing and clapping.

“Nice shot! I see you still got some strength left yourself. Too bad we can’t play together anymore. Anyway, it’s been fun. See you around, losers!”

Namjoon and Jin watched as they all left the building. They still could not believe it, nor could they understand why they chose to let them go and did not kill them on spot as well. What gain could they possibly get from it? Jin examined his friend.

“You look really bad. You need to get those wounds treated. We need to get out of here right now.”

He tried to pick him up, but Namjoon was lost in thought and would not budge. Thoughts were racing through his mind, yet it was silent.

“I’m not going.”

“What? Cut the crap, you need help.”

With the help of one of the guys, Jin managed to get him on his feet. He yanked his arms free and staggered all the way to the sofa where Jimin had laid. The gun he carried was still there, he first noticed it when Jimin dragged him all the way to Jin. He checked it out, saw it was still loaded and cocked it.

“What are you doing?”

“There is no point in me living.”

When he saw Namjoon going towards the sofa, he thought he needed rest, then when he caught a glimpse of the gun, he thought the crazy bastard was about to go on a rampage, to which he was prepared to talk him out of. But this, this he was not ready for.

“What kind of shit are you saying? You’re delirious, you need help.”

“You don’t get it, do you? Black Tiger is dead.”

“So?”

“So they will not let me live.”

“They just did.”

“No. I would die anyway. Do you think I would just go out there and live my life?”

“Why not? What’s so difficult in that?”

“Maybe it’s easy for you, but not for a man like me. I was raised by him to take his place. Now Jungkook has it, and he has enough reason to want to kill me. And me to kill him. But what do I have? Nothing. I would rather end this now, than die by one of their hands.”

Jin walked slowly towards him. He was terrified. After having to live through being taken prisoner, seeing his friend die was the last thing he needed. He understood his point of view, but disapproved of his method of dealing with the problem.

“You can run away. I can help you.”

Namjoon scoffed. “Running away is not something I would do. I appreciate the help, old friend, but there’s nothing you can do. Go live your life freely, find a woman, have kids, leave the mafia before it kills you too. It’s all just bullshit, anyway. Farewell, my friend,” he said warmly and flashed a smile in Jin’s direction.

Before he could take another step, Namjoon put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun firing the deadly bullet resembled that of a mirror shattering. This time, the mirror represented Jin. One man ending his life, broke another’s.

“No!!!”

His scream filled the room, reaching even the furthest and darkest corners. It was too late. Tears filled his eyes as he held the lifeless body of his childhood buddy, confidant and partner in crime. Seeing the two people he thought were the epitome of power being pushed into their graves, one after the other, made him realize just how futile everything truly was. Life was a game of chance in which your coin could, at any point, land on the losing side.

The following week had been tough for everybody. It came with a lot of challenges and pressure. During the funeral of Black Tiger, as the plan stated, Jungkook instructed his men that from that day forward Yoongi’s gang and his were one. He invited everyone against the idea to leave immediately, to which only a dozen had the courage to turn their backs against him, and introduced the others to the new leader, Min Yoongi. There were no cheers of joy, but no signs of rejection either, at least not on the surface. For the undercover rebels, Yoongi already had backup. During the whole ordeal, you had been left alone with Taehyung. Your anxiety levels only came down when you received a call from Jungkook letting you know it all went well.

It still felt like a dream, but, as days gone by, you were getting convinced it was actually reality unfolding. Taehyung showed signs of fast recovery, and soon enough he was brought to the rehabilitated safehouse that had been your home for the very first months since you woke up after the car crash. Hoseok and Jimin were always on the lookout for rats and possible attacks, as well as new ways to spread their business. Yoongi was finally content, no longer haunted by ghosts and ruled by the thirst for revenge. You had forgiven his mistakes, but was never able to rebuild the lost friendship you had with Jimin. Too much had been said and done between the two of you, and both sides agreed that it was better to keep it this way.

You and Jungkook had moved into a larger apartment and spent a good few days making up for the time you were kept apart. The past few months had never seen you smile so much, or be so carefree. It was all over, truly over. Paranoia was still a big part of your lives, but it was no longer a constant thorn in your chests. You were happy. Sleeping and waking up in his arms, arguing about what food to eat or what movie to watch, teasing and making fun of each other, you were happy. You decided it was best for you to move abroad, leave it all behind and start afresh. Jungkook started looking into colleges, you as well. You still wanted to pursue psychology, with even more fervor now that you had gathered all sorts of insights into the dark side of society and the effects it had on humans. Like that, time unrolled, dragging you along with it. And so came the big day.

“You are so beautiful,” Jungkook whispered in your ear.

He was hugging you from behind as you stood in front of a tall mirror. You smiled.

“Are you ready?”

“Oh, God, I don’t think I can go through with this. I feel like throwing up.”

He turned you over to face him. “Don’t be nervous. The Y/N I know is a badass female that jumped out of the window without hesitating, that endured torture and pain like a pro, I am sure she will do fine.”

The corners of your mouth kept going up with every word he said. He was a master of blowing away your worries. You pressed your lips against his in a sweet and hasty kiss. He went in for more, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. You both glanced towards the source of the sound, waiting for the rude intruder to come inside. Your eyes grew larger at the sight of the one peeking through the slightly open door. Slightly annoyed, Jungkook cupped your face and broke the silence.

“I’ll wait for you outside.”

“Oh, ok.”

One more kiss and he was out. Passing the one that cut their sweet moment short, Jungkook threw him a cold glare. The other simply smirked.

“Taehyung-ah…”

“Long time no see, princess,” he said with a devilish grin, his signature.

You heard he had woken up from his coma a couple of days back, but things have been so hectic, you postponed meeting him. Not only that, but you were not ready to face him. In the time he had been out, you had to create a new identity, find a new place to live, run errands here and there, and most importantly build yourself back up. Deep inside, you dreaded meeting him again. Not because you hated or feared him, but because you were afraid that the leftover feelings you had for him would blossom again.

You were both in awe. He let his eyes roll down your body from the curls of your hair, to the white lace that embraced your shoulders, over the elegant gown that gave you a royal touch, down to the train that stretched across the floor like a mystical waterfall. You were breathtaking. The fire inside him lit up the moment your eyes met. He wanted to just get rid of Jungkook and have you all for himself. He knew he could do it, but he knew even better that was not the way to win your heart. That had already been given to Jungkook, a long time ago. He was determined, however, to watch over you as you walk into your new life.

“You look stunning,” he continued, walking towards you. “I always pictured you this way. Too bad.”

He was also a blessing for the eyes, dressed in a perfectly fitted suit, with his long locks carefully groomed, but sadness weighted on his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, not able to mutter another word. Tears blurred your vision. Feeling you against him once again, Taehyung regained energy. You got lost in the feeling for a few minutes. It was strange. You were happy, relieved to see him on his feet again, yet anxious and sad that he would try to take you away and you will have to break his heart. Little did you know, that he came there with an already broken heart. The moment Yoongi handed him the invitation, it was clear that he had lost, and that there was nothing he could do.

“If you still care to reconsider, I’d gladly take you as my wife,” he cracked a joke.

You started laughing and released him from your grip. “I can’t believe you are here. I honestly didn’t think you’d come."

“And miss this,” he pointed at you. “No chance. I also wouldn’t miss a dance with you, princess.”

“Already saved.”

“Perfect.”

Your eyes were glued to each other. It was beautiful to see, there was no trace of lust, only genuine care for the other.

“Thank you for everything, Tae. I wouldn’t be here today, if it weren’t for you. I owe you my life.”

“You can still run away with me, if you are so grateful.”

“Stop it, I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He made a long pause, then continued. “Geez, you should see the look on your face. I am kidding! No need to thank me, I did what I thought was the right thing to do. I have no problem giving my life for a person close to my heart. Just make sure it wasn’t for nothing.”

“I will do my best!”

You both smiled. He admired you once more, you exchanged a few more jokes, and then he went outside to wait for your great entrance. Walking on a red carpet made of rose petals towards the altar where Jungkook waited, you felt like throwing up again. It was a beautiful setting, out in the open, with only the people closest to the both of you, surrounded by nature and kissed by the sun. Yoongi offered to lead you to the altar, he said you reminded him so much of his sister, that he wanted to be there for you on this big event. He proudly offered your hand to Jungkook, and stepped aside as the ceremony started. It was an emotional moment. Nervous as you were, you followed in Jungkook’s steps, and prayed it all ended faster. The party that followed was wild. To see gangsters dance and sing their hearts out on the dancefloor was something to laugh about for days on end. Like promised, you shared a dance with Taehyung, after which he bid farewell and got lost in the city in a desperate attempt to drown his feelings in alcohol and get over you. The break of dawn caught you and Jungkook lost in each other’s touch with burning passion. After the heat faded away, you put your hands up in the air and admired the wedding rings that now bound you flesh and soul.

“I honestly didn’t think we’d make it,” you said with a trace of sadness in your voice.

Jungkook pulled you tighter into his arms. Countless of nights he had thought the same, un until that very moment. Yet he did manage to keep the biggest promise ever made to you, the oath that he would never leave your side and he would keep you safe at any cost. Fate had submitted your love to many trials, but failed to break it. On the contrary, it made the connection stronger. With scared minds and souls, no matter what future had in store, you were determined to push forward.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too!”

The end.

A/N: This chapter took a long time coming, went through a lot of plot changes and adjustments, hope you will like the final result. And yes...the awaited and dreaded moment....the final chapter. Hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading and being so patient! Thank you for the love and support. It meant a lot.

#bts #bts mafia au #bts angst #jungkook #taehyung #yoongi #namjoon #hoseok #jimin #jin #oath #fanfiction

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