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bunnimew · 3 years

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Not the Junk Yard!

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Relationship: Jack Frost/Pitch Black, Jamie/Cupcake Tags: Modern AU, Ghost AU, Jack and Pitch are ghostie boyz, Is it major character death if they start out dead and don't die harder during the fic?, Cupcake is only in one scene Rating: Teen Words: 2,954 Summary: Jamie stiffly looked forward and pointedly ignored Jack, even when his phone started playing Candy Crush on its own.

He would be fine.

His car was haunted.

He would be fine.

Or Jack and Pitch are obnoxious ghosts with nothing else to do but terrorize Jamie.

For @rotg-hope-week 2021 Prompt: Free Day! On AO3 here!

“Get off our ass, dickwad!”

“Use your turn signal, asshole!”

“Hey Idiot! That’s not how you make a U-turn!”

This was Jamie’s life now.

If he turned his head, he wouldn’t see them. Sometimes he forgot, when he opened the door and climbed inside, that just because his backseat looked empty didn’t mean it actually was.

If Jamie looked up into the rear-view mirror, they would be there.

Jack and Pitch, they told him the first week he owned this car. They had passed in a horrible accident and their spirits got stuck here. Jamie never asked if this was the car they died in, because he didn’t really want to know that.

He asked a million other questions though. He couldn’t help it! Ghosts! Real ghosts! In his car!

It was an absolute, utter, horrible, terrible pain in the ass.

But Jamie would have been so jealous if this car belonged to anyone else.

-o-

“I think it’s a day for fucking with the radio,” Jack nodded sagely. He turned his head to Pitch. “What’re you feeling?”

Pitch straightened his back and adopted a posture of confidence and poise. “I’m thinking Queen.”

“Solid choice,” Jack approved. He gestured grandly at the front of the car. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Pitch nodded once. “I would.” It took barely two seconds of static for the catchy pop song topping the charts this week to transform into Freddie crying, ‘Bicycle! Bicycle!’ and Jamie didn’t even glance over. He already knew.

His head connected with the steering wheel. “So it’s gonna be a day like that, huh?”

Jack shrugged and waved flat hands at the front seat. “I don’t know what his problem is. This song is amazing.”

“It might be that I played it last week, too,” Pitch suggested. Then grinned. “Or the inevitable hours of repeat he’s anticipating.”

“I still count that as a blessing,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Few things are more angelic than Freddie Mercury’s voice.”

Pitch took Jack’s hand and lifted the knuckles to his lips. “I could not have died and had my soul entangled to a better man.”

Jack rotated their hands and returned the sentiment with a smile. “Nor I, Pitch my love,” he dramatically declared. “Nor I!”

-o-

“In two-hundred feet, turn right on–”

“Why’s it telling you to turn here?” Jack asked. Jamie only knew he was poking Jamie’s phone because suddenly Google didn’t know which way was up and had backed all the way out of Navigation and was trying to find him fast food to eat.

“Damn it, Jack! Stop touching it!” Jamie flapped one hand at his phone, occasionally passing through what felt like weirdly cold pockets of air. He had to re-search his destination and re-enter navigation and pray he was turning right where he was supposed to, all at the same time. “You’re gonna break it! Or drain the battery, whichever comes first.”

“It’s faster to go straight and turn on 182nd. Trust me, we used to go this way all the time.”

“I kind of trust you,” Jamie tentatively said. It wasn’t a lie, if there wasn’t any GPS, Jamie would totally follow Jack’s instructions. But there was GPS, and it was telling him to turn here. “But there might be traffic or something that isn’t usually on that road, so it wants me to go around.”

“But it’s telling you to take Harding. Harding is way slower than Orange. You should turn around and go back.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “If I turn around, I lose the, like, one minute advantage of taking this route.”

“One minute? You’re taking a slower route to save one minute?”

“It’s one minute faster!”

“It’s slower!”

“That’s literally not how that works, Jack!”

Pitch’s chuckle, borderline giggle, cut through Jamie’s screeching. “You may want to keep better control of yourself. You’re looking a bit…”

Jamie turned his head, dread and embarrassment taking hold even before he saw the man one lane over staring back at him in alarm. The man looked away quickly and started talking to the driver, but it was too late. Jamie knew they knew that he was talking to himself. It was every driver’s worst nightmare. That someone else on the road would notice what they were doing.

Jamie stiffly looked forward again and pointedly ignored Jack, even when his phone started playing Candy Crush on its own. He… mostly knew the route.

He would be fine.

His car was haunted.

He would be fine.

-o-

“Pitch?”

“Yes, Jack?”

Jack tapped his foot against the door of the car, legs propped in Pitch’s lap. He was staring at the ceiling, noting the wear in the roof lining around the dome light. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck in this car?”

Pitch shook his head. He was resting a hand on Jack’s shin, fingers pleasantly scratching back and forth. Jack was happy that being dead didn’t mean he couldn’t feel anything. “I couldn’t say. I’ve never been dead before. We could be here forever. We could move on tomorrow.”

Jack bit his lip and shifted in the seat so he sank further down, nearly lying on his back now. “What if we are stuck forever? This car’s not going to last forever. Where will we go?”

Pitch’s fingers pressed a little harder into his skin. “Wherever this broken down car goes, I suppose. A landfill? A junk yard?”

Jack closed his eyes and whined. “I don’t wanna go to a junk yard.”

Pitch rubbed soothingly into Jack’s leg. “Isn’t the whole point of this line of questioning that we may not have a choice?”

Jack covered his face with his hands. “That just means I’m gonna whine harder, Pitch.”

“Of course you are.”

“It’ll be so boring. And so lonely. We can’t, Pitch!”

Pitch sighed and leaned down to press a kiss to Jack’s thigh, just above his knee. “At least we’ll be together?”

Jack pressed his hands up into his hair so that he could look at Pitch through the frame of his wrists. That was something. He wouldn’t be completely alone, but still.

“I love you, Pitch. And I’m glad that if I’m stuck forever with someone, it’s with you. But.”

Pitch folded his hands over Jack’s knees. Of course there was a but. “But?”

“But we absolutely can not go to the junk yard!”

-o-

“This is highly rude, I just want you to know.”

Jamie knew, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. There was nowhere else in the car his new, new to him anyway, tv would fit. The screen was just too big. It had to go in the back seat. Besides, what was Jamie supposed to do if he wanted to give his friends a ride sometime? Make them crawl in the trunk instead of use the perfectly functioning back seat?

Jack and Pitch were being pretty hilarious about it though. They were honestly trying not to touch it, pressed to opposite doors and barely in their seats. Pitch was practically folded against the wall and ceiling of the car, like the tv might burn him or something.

Or maybe he might burn the tv?

Suddenly it was a lot less funny.

“I’m sorry, just don’t break it, please? It was a really good deal and I definitely can’t afford another one,” he pleaded into the rearview.

Jack looked a little panicked himself. “No promises, but it won’t be on purpose.”

That was super not reassuring at all. Jamie pressed the pedal a little harder. Now he kind of felt bad about them trying not to be in the tv. “Can’t you guys, like… sit in the front seat, maybe?”

The ghosts looked at each other, which Jamie had to shift in the seat to see because they were so far apart. Pitch looked back at Jamie. “Maybe?”

Jack, on the passenger side, was gazing deep into the upholstery like a puzzle he was struggling to solve. “We’ve had pretty free rein of the car, right? We just…” Jack’s face contorted into something like concern or discomfort. Jamie got the feeling he didn’t want to say why they hadn’t tried it, yet.

“You don’t have to!” he was quick to say. “I just thought it might be more comfortable.” And also less dangerous for the tv.

Jamie had to take his eyes off of the rearview for a while. He was driving after all, and he could check in on them but he couldn’t watch them the whole time. He heard Pitch saying, “It can’t actually hurt, right?”

“I mean, we’re already dead,” Jack replied.

Which didn’t mean a whole lot. Sure, physical pain wasn’t a consideration, but their souls were still their souls and… Jamie should really do some research on ghosts. He was shocked out of his thoughts by a sudden metaphorical bucket of ice water spilling over his back and into his very being. He nearly slammed on the brakes, but caught it just in time. Getting rear-ended right now would suck for many, many reasons.

“Oh my God, Pitch! You have to warn me when you do that!”

“I did!” Pitch was no longer in the back seat, so Jamie couldn’t see his expression. “It’s not my fault you were too distracted to hear me.”

That was fair.

“Where’s Jack?”

He heard a cough.

“With Pitch.”

Jamie smiled and actually tried looking over at his passenger seat. It was empty, of course. That was a little sad. He knew they were ghosts, but it would be cool to talk to them face to face some day. “So it worked? And you fit?”

There was a snort. Probably from Pitch. “Sort of.”

Jamie… had to shrug it off, because it probably wasn’t anything important and he had to pay attention to the road. If it was working, sort of, that would be good enough for now.

“Sorry about the back seat.”

“It’s fine,” Pitch said, and the tone of his voice said it really was. “We understand this is your car, even if we’re eternally stuck in it.”

Jamie smiled again, but didn’t try to look at them. “Honestly. I’d like this car a lot less if you weren’t stuck in it, so.”

“Aww,” Jack cooed, “I knew you liked us!”

Jamie was almost home. “I could do without the songs on repeat, but… my car is haunted! That makes it the coolest car I could have!”

“Oh, I see, so it’s not about us,” Pitch said.

Jamie pulled into his drive and put the car in park, so he was safe to look over and pretend he could see them. “Of course it’s about you. It wouldn’t be haunted without you.”

“Any ol’ ghosts could be haunting this car, Jamie.”

The pretending was getting to him, so Jamie pressed the buttons on his door to turn the passenger mirror so far in that Jamie could see Pitch and Jack reflected in it. The angle wasn’t great, because it was only one side of them, but it was something.

And it was something.

Jack was sitting sideways in Pitch’s lap, his shoulder pressed to Pitch’s chest and his head resting on Pitch’s shoulder. This meant Jamie could only see the back of his head, but that really didn’t matter, did it? Pitch’s arms were around Jack, and his head was propped against Jack’s. As he watched, Pitch’s eyes caught Jamie’s in the mirror. They were precious.

Jamie’s smile felt like it was splitting his face in two.

“Then I’m glad it’s you.”

Pitch smiled.

-o-

It was already awkward, trying to do this across the front seats. Jamie couldn’t really help that though, because if he’d tried to sit in the back with Cupcake, he would have been thinking about Pitch and Jack dodging them the whole time, the way Pitch and Jack sit and lay and stretch in that seat, the way Jamie feels cold every time he reaches back there.

He shouldn’t have bothered. The way he was leaning to reach her lips was a little bit painful and a lotta bit hard to hold, but then there was Jack, talking in his ear, “Is this your girlfriend? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” So Jamie was thinking about them anyway, and all of his efforts were for naught.

“I kinda thought you might be gay.”

Jamie’s eyes snapped open to glare at the backseat. Jack wanted to talk about this now? Really?

“I’m just saying. I guess my gaydar is as dead as I am.”

Jamie wanted to laugh, but he also wanted to cry. And then he realized Cupcake wasn’t reacting to Jack at all. Couldn’t she hear him?

“Nope.” His expression must have given away his thoughts. “Only you can hear us. You know, just to make this as awkward as possible for you.”

Jamie definitely wanted to cry now. So he closed his eyes and chose to focus on Cupcake, who did not make him want to cry. She sure made him want a lot of other things, though.

“So…” Oh God, he really wasn’t going to stop, was he? “Should we make out too, or…?”

Jamie fought down a groan and pulled away from Cupcake to the sound of Pitch’s laughter. She wouldn’t understand why he was frustrated (And wasn’t that frustrating?), so he tried to act completely normal when he asked, “Think you might be able to sneak into my room?”

The devilish look she gave him turned Jamie’s mood right around.

-o-

“Aww, man…”

Jamie knew it would happen eventually. No car stayed in working condition forever. Something was bound to break, and it wasn’t like Jamie bought this car new or anything.

“What? What is it?” Jack’s voice was alert and panicked. Jamie felt a chill in his right shoulder that told him Jack was leaning forward between the seats.

“The engine’s overheating,” Jamie said. “I’ll have to pull over and, I dunno, try to figure out what’s causing it.”

“We’re breaking down?!”

Jack’s voice was so close that Jamie instinctively leaned away. “Uh, I guess? I hope not. I hope it’s just something easy, like… like the radiator needs coolant or something.”

“I’ll fix it!”

“Wait! No!” Jamie cried. Although he didn’t know what he was objecting to. And also it wasn’t like he could stop Jack. And also he had no idea if Jack actually could help or not, so there was… all of that. “What? Jack! Pitch!” Jamie turned in his seat, stupidly forgetting that wouldn’t help, then turned to the rearview. “What is he doing?”

Pitch looked alarmed and that did not calm Jamie down one bit. “He dove into the engine. I know nothing more than that.”

“I’ll cool it down!”

“How?! Jamie demanded. He was officially looking for any shoulder at all to pull off on. Unfortunately, this road had a curb. Stupid curbs. “How are you going to cool it down?”

“I am literally a cold spot. That has got to be useful for something.”

If Jamie weren’t so panicked about pulling over, he might have marvelled at Jack’s quick thinking. As it stood, he barely thought ‘Fair’ before he was working on the next problem.

“But you don’t even know what’s causing it! That’s not fixing, that’s duct tape! What’re you gonna do? Hang out in the engine every time I drive from now on?” Not to mention, a disembodied voice talking to him from the wrong side of his dashboard was disconcerting as hell. Odd that the disembodied voice talking to him from the backseat was no longer all that weird.

Before Jack could reply, Jamie felt another cold brush pass through his right arm and Pitch’s voice on the move. “I’ll go… see if a fan isn’t turning. Or if a hose is leaking.”

That was legitimately reassuring and Jamie felt adrift in the wake of his panic. Now what?

Right. Jamie pulled into the first parking lot he saw and stopped the car as far away from other humans as he reasonably could. The temperature gauge actually had stayed steady after Jack… yeeted himself into the engine block.

Jamie didn’t turn off the car just yet, in case leaving it on helped Pitch diagnose it. “Do you see anything?”

“The fans are turning, so it’s not that. This could be a leak, though. Might as well try the coolant.”

“So turn the car off?” Jamie asked.

“Turn the car off,” Pitch confirmed.

As the engine quieted down, Jack’s voice filtered through the dash. “So it’s fixable? We’re not going to the junk yard?”

Jamie snorted. “I was more thinking we’d go to the mechanic.”

“We’re not going to the junk yard,” Pitch confirmed again.

“Why are you guys talking about a junk yard?”

Suddenly half of Jamie was swathed in ice and when he looked up, Jack’s determined face took up more than half of the rearview mirror. “I will fix this car with sheer spite and will power if that’s what it takes to keep us out of the junk yard.”

Oh. Jamie didn’t really know what to say. Jamie’s panic over mechanic bills and inconvenience sure seemed inconsequential next to Jack and Pitch’s eternal damnation to a trash pile. Put like that...

“You guys can be a real pain in my ass sometimes, but…” Jamie shook his head and laughed disbelievingly. Repeat music, broken electronics, no making out in his own car, all sucked pretty hard, but moments like this made him realize. Jamie would also do damn near anything to keep them out of the junk yard. “I really hope I get to drive this car forever.”

#TheBunni #rotghopeweek2021 #Rise of the Guardians #Blackice #blackicerotg #blackice rotg #Jack Frost #Pitch Black #Jamie Bennett #Cupcake #Jamie/Cupcake #Ghost AU

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sweetiejunie · 4 years

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Confessions

Summary: They both have their own confessions. Beomgyu had secrets. Yeonjun thought he was over you. But was he really?

Genre: fluff, angst

Beomgyu x reader, Yeonjun x reader (decoupling)

—.*•—

A/n: a short oneshot i wrote inspired by my favourite ep of HIMYM

=====================================

You loved yeonjun, you really did. And he loved you. But were you in love? No.

That ship sank a while ago, but you had remained good friends with him and the other boys. You both figured it would be too much of a waste to completely throw away everything you had. And you still enjoyed the others company, who was he to take that away from you. At the start, it was hard. But as time went on, things fell back into place. You had to admit, it was a bittersweet feeling but you were glad you didn’t completely lose him. He was still one of your best friends. Everything went back to how it was before you started dating. Well, almost everything.

When the other boys found out you had broken up, they were devastated, of course. To them you and yeonjun had always been their one true pairing, their OTP, soulmates. The couple they were rooting for to get married. And when you broke up, they were shocked and they were also there to help you through it. Especially beomgyu, he had made it his job to visit you everyday until you were better. Bringing you all kinds of sweets or food that would make you happy. Or bringing you out on fun adventures so you had an excuse to get out of bed when you had spent the whole day crying. All that was just supposed to last for a little while, until you got back on your feet. But even after everything seemed back to normal, beomgyu still found himself at your doorstep whenever he had the chance.

Beomgyu didn’t want to say it, but while he was busy bringing you ice cream and chocolates everyday to cheer you up, he started catching feelings. He loved making you laugh when he saw tears prick your eyes. He loved the way you smiled at his jokes and how they made you feel better. He loved spending time with you, watching whatever movie you wanted and listening to any song you played. At first, he thought he was just being nice, looking out for a friend that was broken. Time went by, and all the more he realised just how much he dreaded the days he couldn’t visit you or the days you didn’t reply to his texts. He realised what he felt was something more than what he felt for a friend. But he couldn’t like you. You were his friend’s ex. He couldn’t break the bro-code.

As the days continued, so did his visits. And everyday, he just felt himself falling deeper and deeper into that hole. But he couldn’t stop himself. Everyday, he saw you smiling when you opened the door for him, a smile that made his heart jump out of his chest. He wanted to grab your hands and hold you close. To call the days you went out together ‘dates’ instead of just friendly hangouts. He wanted to take you on late night drives to the most romantic places he could think of, and have you fall asleep in his arms.

He had fallen fast, and he had fallen hard. He thought he could get over you, to simply forget his feelings existed. But that proved to be much easier said than done. He tried cutting down on the days he saw you, using excuses like he was too busy, or he was too exhausted after practice. It killed him to lie to you. And seeing the sweet responses you gave him to ‘rest well’ and to ‘take care of himself’ wasn’t helping.

Beomgyu couldn’t take it. It’s been months and he felt guilty for hiding his feelings. He knew it was wrong for him fall in love you, but he couldn’t control his emotions. And it was eating him alive. He had to tell someone. And that day after their practice, he decided to tell yeonjun the truth. It was make or break it, but he had to get it out.

He found yeonjun on the couch, using his phone just scrolling through his feed. Beomgyu had gone through what he wanted to say in his head a thousand times, but nothing could prepare him for the real thing. He stood there for a while, looking over the corner at yeonjun, processing how to go about this.

“Stop staring, you look like a stalker,” yeonjun suddenly called out, causing the poor boy to get flustered.

“Hyung,” beomgyu said softly, walking closer to him.

“Beomgyu, something wrong?” Yeonjun asked, sensing something off about his younger’s demeanour.

“I uh, i need to talk to you.”

Yeonjun hummed a response, putting down his phone and turning to look at beomgyu, who stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, playing with the edge of his hoodie. He was nervous. Who wouldn’t be? He was about to tell his mate he had fallen head over heels for a girl he used to love.

“So er,” beomgyu started, “i dont know how to tell you this and i know it’s wrong of me to feel like this. But... i think i like y/n.”

There was silence, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. To beomgyu, it felt like it lastest an eternity. And he thought he was about to get punched as he studied yeonjun’s blank face, just staring at him.

“I- i just wanted to tell you cause i felt guilty. I know she’s your ex and all so if u dont feel comfortable with the idea of me being with her, I won’t do it! Ill get ride of my feelings, i promise! I just thought I should let you know-“

“Go for it,” yeonjun smiled, standing up to give beomgyu a pat on the back. “We broke up months ago. We’re just friends now, if you like her, I shouldn’t be the one stopping you. But you better treat her well.”

His words shocked beomgyu, but he was glad to have his blessing. It meant he was over you and beomgyu could feel at ease. He rushed over to your place and confessed everything.

And later that night, yeonjun got an extremely important text.

From beomgyu: Y/n and i are dating!!

In that moment, despite what he had said prior, he felt jealous, annoyed, frustrated. Whatever you want to call it. He tried to convince himself that he was happy for you. No, that he was over you, or so he thought. Seeing you with someone else just made him realised how much he was still actually in love with you.

He would never admit it but a part of him was hopping you would have said no, and send beomgyu home. He was supposed to be your friend, he was supposed to be happy his best friend was happy. He hadn’t noticed it, but when beomgyu returned home that night, yeonjun completely switched off, disregarding any attempts beomgyu made to start a conversation and locking himself in his room.

Yeonjun thought he was okay with you and beomgyu being together but as the days turned to weeks, yeonjun was starting to ignore beomgyu more, barely acknowledging him when he spoke. Yeonjun hated seeing you with him. He wanted you to be happy and he wanted beomgyu to be happy, but not be the reason for each others happiness.

The worse days were when you would surprise beomgyu at the dorm. You would greet them as per usual and run to hug beomgyu. That used to be him. The gifts you used to get for yeonjun, now you got for beomgyu. Your laugh that echoed from beomgyus room used to his favourite sound, but now was the bane of his existence.

The other boys noticed this, but didn’t dare say anything. Until one day, they drew the line. You had came over to the dorm and beomgyu decided to bring you out for a small ice cream date. The rest of them were on the couch in the living room, watching a movie before they saw the two of you giggling as you made your way out. The moment the door closed behind you, yeonjun scoffed.

“What’s up with you? You got a problem with ice cream now?” Kai chuckled.

“Nothing’s up. I just think y/n deserves more than a lame ice cream date. Sure, ice cream is nice and all. But let’s be real, ice cream sucks. Ice cream lies, they keep secrets, and when it comes down to it, they just end up hurting you,” yeonjun responded, his emotions taking over him when he continued. “I- i just can’t believe y/n is going through with the idea of going out wit- for, ice cream.”

The three boys listened attentively, shaking their heads. If it wasn’t obvious enough, yeonjun wasn’t talking about ice cream. They knew they had to put an end to this. It was getting out of hand.

“Okay hyung we have to talk. Room, now,” soobin announced.

“Nice try but no, it’s just going to be 5 minutes of you two sorting out his love life, followed by an hour of you playing mario kart. No way. Hyung, you, me, roof, right now,” standing up, taehyun pushed yeonjun towards the fire escape that had a staircase to the roof.

“But it’s January-“ yeonjun defended.

Ignoring him, taehyun continued pushing him out, “move.”

“Alright, we’re both freezing so cut the crap and just say it,” taehyun said the moment they were on the roof.

“Say what?”

“That you’re unhappy y/n and beomgyu are together!”

Yeonjun was in disbelief at his assumption, “what? No. I’m happy. I encouraged him to go after her.”

“Because you thought you were okay with letting her go! But now that she’s gone, it hurts.”

By that point, yeonjun had been hurt many times in his life. Past relationships, failed auditions, and the list goes on. But when he first saw that text message that you two were together, it hurt just like all the previous times, just times a million.

“No. I’m happy for them,” he argued again.

“Is all you’ll let yourself say out loud. Cause if you said how you actually felt, that would make you the worse person on this roof,” taehyun stated, arms wrapping around himself when a cool breeze past them. “So I’m going to give you an out.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Yeonjun mocked back.

“By saying something worse.”

“Like what?”

Taehyun hesitated, “sometimes, i wish I wasn’t here. Sometimes i wish i could just pack up a bag and leave in the middle of the night and not come back.”

Yeonjun listened as he spoke. The words echoing in his ears as he processed what taehyun meant by them. And as the moment of silence passed, yeonjun confessed.

“Y/n shouldn’t be with beomgyu. She should be with me.”

=====================================

Just something random, something short, something sad. Hope you liked it!

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stargaze-issei · 4 years

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ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟼; ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ

-> shimizu kiyoko.

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; kiyoko evokes memories of her lost love.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; mentions of death, grieving.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.4k

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; angst.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; yeah u should listen to mr loverman by rick montgomery bc i wrote it while listening to that song 😃 yes i killed the reader what y'all gonna do bout it

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kiyoko couldn't remember a time withouth your bright smile in her days, scaring the gray clouds away. you would sit outside her house, right by her side, sharing laughs and secrets. kiyoko kept those memories lock inside her mind, as her most precious secret, and she would always do it, no matter how long it passed.

"kiyo look! i made a ring with a flower!" her eyes, hid behind a big pair of glasses, showed amazement. she didn't care that your hands were covered in dirt after playing on the garden for hours while she read, safely on a bench, following your every move. "give me your hand" you demanded, grabbing it by yourself without giving her time to react.

despite your usual energic being, like most eight years old, whenever you were around your friend, she felt like fine china. a sudden feeling of fear ran down her back, accompanied by a warmness in her belly. you took her ring finger, placing your newest work on it with more care than ever in your life, affraid you would hurt her. to you, and everyone actually, kiyoko was like a porcelain doll. her fair skin, her beautiful face, her sweet voice, confirmed your hypothesis. the first time you saw kiyoko in the playground, you had to ask your parent if she was a real girl, because you've never seen someone that pretty.

"o-only married couples share rings, y/n" she said quietly, going over your gift with her free hand. leaving aside her complain, she seemed to be delighted with it.

"then we'll get married, and i'll give you all the rings in the world!"

shimizu had those words inked on her brain for quite a while, even now ten years later, they would come back. she wasn't sure if it was a memory or a dream anymore. her phone vibrated on her night table, showing a text from tanaka saying he was on his way there, with a sigh, she got up from her bed, thinking on making something to eat for her boyfriend. on days like that, she would prefer being alone, but she couldn't say no to him. he was good to her.

the girl walked down the hall which connected the living room with the dorms, looking at the walls, searching for you with her eyes. a smile formed on her lips when she saw the picture, you eternally kissing her cheek, grabbing onto her face, making her smile more brightly than ever in her life. she thanked her mom internally for taking that picture, after all, it was the only one you two had. her fingers reached your image, following your traces as if that way, she could actually feel your skin against her again. kiyoko always regretted not kissing you one more time, not holding you in her arms for a second longer.

"try to sleep, or you'll end up falling asleep in the middle of the race tomorrow" kiyoko smiled at your sleepy voice, she knew you were sleeping when she decided on calling you, despite knowing you wouldn't get mad, she still felt a little guilty for waking you in the middle of night.

"i can't sleep, i'm too nervous" it was your turn to smile, thinking on how cute she must've looked while talking. it was almost a routine, her anxiety appearing before an important competition. "can you talk to me, please?"

her wishes were granted, you started talking about the last show you watched, in a low, soft tone. you were aware kiyoko felt safe with you, safe enough to sleep with you, and how she found comfort on you. you still felt reluctlant to her only being able to sleep at the sound of your voice, but her kitten like snores came sooner than usual. you found yourself laying in bed, eyes closed, listening to her sounds, and a while later, you too fell in morpheous arms.

a knock on the door scared her memories away, leaving her on the verge of tears. she hurried to the bathroom, trying to wash off the hints of sadness in her face before letting ryunosuke in. he kissed her as a greeting, hugging her by the waist. kiyoko wanted to get away, like the act was disrespectful to your memory. she knew she was wrong though, you wouldn't want her sulking for the rest of her life, thinking of what could've been if life wasn't so damn awful.

"brought dinner" smiled her boyfriend, not realizing what was she going through. it itsn't his fault, kiyoko thought, he doesn't even know she existed.

they set the table for two, talked a little while eating and watched a movie. tanaka wasn't good at taking hints, but even him sensed there was something wrong. he excused himself at midnight, saying he needed something from his house for work tomorrow, maybe she needed some time alone. kiyoko was grateful, because she kept thinking she was cheating on you. so stupid, i can't cheat on someone who isn't here.

kiyoko laid in bed once again, hugging a pillow. it always happened around this time of the year, she should be used to it by now, according to her old therapist. except that she wasn't, not at all. you were always on her mind, but these days she just couldn't escape. it killed her to think about all the broken promises, the things left unsaid. you had plans together, so many plans. in middle school, she longed the day you would travel with each other, conquering the world by your side. she wanted to go back home and find you there, kiss you every night and every morning, have children with you and grow old together as you had done until that day, to know it would never be possible was enough to make her feel miserable.

she kept a box under her bed, almost empty, with the last few things she had of you. a shirt you wore to sleep, a rushed note saying how much you loved her and an old stuffed bear kiyoko won for you at a carnival. that was all she could find in her house of you after the incident, all she was allowed to keep. the first few months she couldn't even bring herself to look at your belongings, how was it possible that your whole existence was reduced to this? you were so much things to kiyoko, nowhere near what those stuff represented. you were love, you were happiness, you were freedom, you were all kiyoko wanted in life and you were ripped away from her.

at two a.m, she found herself once again awake, but she was well aware of the fact that you weren't there to save her anymore. what was she supposed to do when she needed you, more than ever? in a mess of tears, she went outside, headed for her car. the air was cold, hostile, like it was warning her to stay home. the mostly empty streets were perfect for her desperate speed, barely stopping at red lights. she made a road of twenty minutes in ten, a road she hadn't done in quite a while. nonetheless, she knew what she was looking for was still there. kiyoko ran out her car when she got there, crossed the gate, gaining a suspicious look from the guard. she walked towards you, knowing the way a little too well for someone who didn't visit in years.

your name read in the grave, and the remaining force she had in her legs was suddenly gone. tears drowned her sight, holding tightly to the ground beneath hear. sometimes, kiyoko questioned herself if you really existed, she lost all contact with your family after, not being able to see anyone who looked like you, but in that moment, all her supressed memories came back. your first kiss, a peck on the lips, so fast that it might've not even happened, only it did, and it was followed by deeper, better kisses, and eternal love declarations. the first time she held your hand, how flustered you got over her taking the initiative. falling asleep in your arms, you caressing her hair. you kissing her strech marks, promsing you loved her just as she was. the image of your happy self, bursting into cheerings everytime she won a race, filled with pride. all your picnics together, beach days, roadtrips, night snick outs.

everything was real, kiyoko was sure of it. your love for her was real, her love for you couldn't be stopped, not even by death. it hurt so bad, all she wanted to do was see you one more time, feel your warm body against hers. she needed you with her, and it was tearing her apart.

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bangtan-yeonghon · 4 years

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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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eatsyou-a · 4 years

Note

okay so with douma’s thing about absorbing his followers into paradise, do you imagine that it’s just his bullshit/that they just become a part of his body?? do they maintain some kind of consciousness?? is there some kinda pocket dimension inside him?? like what do you hc his paradise as actually being?? and who does/doesn’t deserve “entry” into it in his eyes??

HMMM, those are actually good questions!

i do really think that when people have had enough, they beg them to take them into the paradise that he so praises and promises that exists. this kind of hits a wall because when he was younger, these same ppl asked them the same thing idk how he maintained that image because he even says that place doesn’t exist. i do want to talk about that more later, but for the right now, he’s probably so gentle with his followers that they trust him to bring them an ending to their suffering so that way they can visit their family, edge of suicide, etc. esp since he has the power to heal and aid ppl of their injuries (like a baby with an incurable sickness or helping a blind man see the world and colors like he never did before) like that’s kind of a big deal.

at first i was thinking of this kind of being like the swamp demons tanjiro fought. when they abducted the girls, they were placed in this swamp so the demons could devour her later + suffocating them since the air is so thin, but the swamp was basically a portal for those demons to swim through so that couldn’t apply to douma. his way of consuming humans is eating and absorption, which we don’t see any other demon do (at least not to my memory; excluding enmu with the whole train situation). probably starting at the upper moon 6, he developed this power over time the more people he consumed. they’re probably alive in his body for a moment, suffocating and drowning until that empty void works like acid where they eventually dissolve and become a part of him. what i thought originally, something would eventually happen when he absorbed shinobu but because of the poison, he didn’t really get any stronger, even though she was a pillar (didn’t they say they get stronger with the more humans they consume, esp with their rare blood type / how strong that person was? idk i need to do more research on that).

his idea of paradise is probably, as what these ppl say, a place where they’re free from their sins, they get what they want like reuniting with their loved ones, or like just a place where they wake up from something like a bad dream; they wake up and nothing bad has ever happened to that person like getting robbed, watching their loved one die before their very eyes, maybe the crops didn’t grow well that season for farmers, or being sold away. so many factors and promises that the gods would take care of them (even though douma is completely bullshitting that whole fact). i imagine it’s a place that’s reminiscent of the heavens, you know the western version of golden gates and railings. douma’s version of paradise also probably includes eternal years of happiness, which is why ppl who feel like they have no reason to go on confide in him to take them to that place of paradise. as long as you have faith in such a paradise that exists, then you can go.

as for ppl who feel like he believes don’t deserve entry are ppl who probably annoy him / don’t deserve such a thing. he has a pretty high tolerance for stupid ppl (because he deals with them all the time, you know. even crying for how pathetic they are). like the instance with kotoha, he killed her abusers and begged him to help with with inosuke in her arms. he found them extremely noisy and annoying, disturbing the peace at his temple. i feel like those instances, they wouldn’t belong that such “paradise”. people that are beyond redemption and are not sorry at all for their actions don’t go there. for people that are like ‘i murdered my gf and my best friend because she cheated on me with him but i’m scared to kill myself pls take me to that paradise’, it’s kind of on a thin line. if he thinks they’re truly so pathetic, he might make an exception. besides, he doesn’t just grant permission to just anyone. they need to be devout followers who don’t question a word of his judgement, and ppl who are suspicious of his intentions and what he really is are immediately cornered by him and killed.

douma has an advantage of this, because humans don’t believe of demons or their attacks unless they have experience with it. so if someone’s like, ‘he’s a demon!’ wham! bye dude, you didn’t have a nice life.

altho ur rly made me think about this!! this is a thing i’ve wanted to talk about for a bit and i’m glad u gave me the opportunity. ( : <

#meta.#idk who u are BUT THANK U FOR ASKING THESE I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH #Anonymous

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selfignitingimagines · 5 years

Text

Brett- Can’t Argue With That

Request- Hayyy can u please please please plllleeeaaassseeee do a image were reader is the captin of Beacon Hills cheersqwad and she’s also really good friends with Liam. And she also stands up to brett and Brett comes and starts hitting on her but she hates him and Liam losses it. But can it still be a Brett x reader image thx ❤️❤️

A/N- I really enjoyed writing this one :)

“Hey, Pom-Poms!”

You let out a soft groan as you heard the cocky voice call out to you. You glanced behind you to see Brett Talbot shoving through a crowd of his fellow Devenford Prep players as they stood around the team bus.

Liam stopped walking next to you and glowered, adjusting his lacrosse pads in a way that you supposed was meant to be threatening.

“You think he’d be a little more grateful that I helped save his life,” you grumbled, watching Brett saunter over.

“You think he’d be more grateful that I haven’t bashed his face in already,” Liam growled.

You sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Relax. He’s just trying to mess with us.”

“To mess with you,” he corrected. “I mean, what’s his problem? He can’t take a hint?”

Brett smirked as he came to a stop in front of you. “My problem, Liam, is that I know when someone isn’t interested in me. And I know when someone is pretending not to be.”

He winked at you, and you rolled your eyes.

“And actually,” he continued. “I’m eternally grateful, which I why I want to take you on the best date of your life.”

You grinned and gently pushed Liam forward. “He’s all yours.”

Liam brushed you off, grumbling, and Brett tilted his head with a smile. “Come on, Y/n. You’re head cheerleader, I’m the captain of the lacrosse team-”

“The rival lacrosse team,” you interjected. “Seems kinda bad for my reputation, don’t you think?”

Brett raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I would love to ruin your reputation.”

“Can you just be grateful for your life and leave us alone?” Liam demanded. “We have a game to play.”

Brett gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Sure, if you’re ready to get your asses handed to you.”

Liam let out a soft growl, and you gently squeezed his hand. “We’ll see who’s getting their ass handed to them at the end of the night. And no offense, if your team is any indication, you’re probably not the best captain.”

You flashed a him a smile and tugged Liam toward the bleachers, even though he looked ready to pounce on Brett. When you looked back over your shoulder though, Brett was still grinning at you with mischief in his eyes.

“Does that mean I’ll see you after the game?” he called.

You shook your head in disbelief. Brett just didn’t give up, but if the tiny smile on your face was any indication, his tactics might have been working.

-----

It was the last quarter of the game, and Beacon Hills was tied with Devenford at eight points. Every fan dressed in maroon and white was perched on the edge of the bleachers, wondering if the team could break their two year losing streak. If Beacon Hills actually won against the better funded and highly trained prep school, it wouldn’t just be big. It would be monumental.

As soon Liam scooped up the ball in the last minute of the game, you and the other cheerleaders erupted into a routine. Maybe dancing around in tight outfits and shaking around some pom poms did nothing for morale, but you liked to think it did. At the end of the day it was something you enjoyed for the fun of it, but if the team dropped the ball on this one, that meant no cheerleading for the rest of the season.

You twisted and turned, glancing toward the field in anticipation any time you could. Liam was racing down the field, dodging players with green jerseys left and right. When he took the shot, the crowd went silent. It seemed like for a moment, time had stopped.

Then the ball went sailing into the net, past the Devenford goalie, and everyone lost it. Some of the cheerleaders were grabbing each other and screaming. The crowd was roaring, and the Beacon Hills team had lifted Liam onto their shoulders in celebration.

You grinned to yourself and glanced toward the Devenford team. Brett was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, staring in disdain. When he realized you were looking at him, he raised his eyebrows at you and shrugged.

You flashed him a smile and blew him a kiss, purely as a joke. You didn’t waste time waiting to see his reaction. You simply turned to the rest of your team and joined in the celebration.

-----

“Y/n!” Liam called as you walked out of the girl’s locker room. He was waiting for you on the grass outside of the field.

The last of the fans were clearing out, and all the lacrosse players were scooping up their discarded gear from earlier.

“Hey,” you told him. “Congrats on the win. That was all you.”

He flushed. “Thanks. We’re all going to get something to eat. Some of the cheerleaders are coming too. I can give you a ride if you want to come.”

You groaned. “I actually have to clean up the sidelines. Everyone ditched their pom poms when you guys won. Apparently I’m head cheerleader and a maid.”

“I can wait for you,” he offered, scratching the back of his neck.

You sighed and shook your head. “Nah, go without me. I’m not really feeling it tonight.”

“How are you gonna get home?”

“I’ll find a ride with one of the other girls,” you said with a shrug. “I can always call Lydia too.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “Promise you’ll text me if you need anything?”

“Promise,” you agreed with a smile.

You wrapped your arms around him for a quick hug, said your goodbyes, and then trudged over to the bleachers.

A shiver ran through you as you stepped onto the deserted field. You had never liked being out here alone, not since Peter Hale had attacked you and Lydia the night of the winter formal. That had been freshman year for you, and now, as a senior, you were surprised that it still bothered you.

You brushed off the feeling and bent down to scoop some pom poms into your arms. Grumbling to yourself about how cheerleaders were dirtier than lacrosse players, you tried to calm yourself down with the thought that you would be out of there soon.

Peter had attacked you a long time ago, and now he was locked in an Eichen House cell. It didn’t matter that you were isolated on that field, just like you had been that night. He couldn’t get to you.

Just thinking about Peter made your heart pound in your chest, and you quickly scooped up the rest of the discarded pom poms. When you stood up, you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“Y/n.”

You let out a strangled choking sound, and turned in horror. Peter Hale was on the field a few feet away from you. His clothes were stained with grime, and when he grinned, you saw that there was blood coating his teeth and mouth. It was Lydia’s.

He slowly took a few steps forward, moving carefully, like he was an animal stalking prey. He reached up and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, tilting his head thoughtfully.

“Well,” he remarked. “There’s no reason I can’t have two contingency plans.”

Those were the exact same words he had said that night, and they spurred you to run. You stumbled back and dropped the pom poms, only to run straight into a wall of solid muscle.

You screamed, and warm hands came down to grasp your shoulders.

“Woah, woah, it’s me!”

Brett Talbot was looking down at you, staring with worry in his eyes. His wasn’t in his uniform anymore and he had ditched his lacrosse gear, but it was all scattered on the ground nearby. He must have dropped it when he grabbed you.

You hastily glanced over your shoulder, but Peter was gone.

“Y/n,” Brett said softly. “You’re shaking.”

“I-I’m fine,” you choked out. “I’m fine.”

You breath was still coming out in short gasps, and it suddenly felt like all the air had disappeared from your lungs.

“Y/n?” he asked carefully. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“I...I can’t breathe.”

“Okay,” he said calmly. “Okay, we’re going to go sit down now, alright?”

He looped an arm around your waist and led you over to the bleachers, keeping you steady the whole time. When you sat down, he moved his arm away, but kept ahold of your hands in his own.

“You’re having a panic attack,” he explained softly. “You have to try to slow your breathing, okay?”

You nodded and tried to focus on his eyes. It was dark outside by now, but the lights on the field made his blue eyes glow in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“I-I saw…” But that was all you managed to get out.

Brett shook his head. “Whatever you saw, it’s gone now, okay? I’m right here with you, and I’m not going to let anything hurt you.”

Gradually, your breathing began to slow. Brett squeezed your hands. “See? You’re okay.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “I owed you one. You know, for saving my life and all.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, glancing back toward the empty lacrosse field. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you have left with your team?”

“I was looking for you,” he admitted. “And I drove myself anyway, so I figured I’d stay behind and try to find you. Lucky I did though.”

He followed your gaze toward the field. “Do you wanna talk about what you saw?”

You took a deep breath. “I saw Peter Hale.”

“Derek’s uncle?”

“Yeah. He attacked me on this field.”

Brett frowned. “When?”

“My freshman year,” you told him. “You know Lydia’s my cousin, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well when she was a sophomore, we went to the winter formal with Stiles and her friends Allison and Jackson. She was supposed to be with Stiles but at some point in the night she went off to go find Jackson. Peter found her before I did, and he attacked her. When I saw her lying on the field, he attacked me too.”

“I’m so sorry,” Brett breathed. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It was,” you whispered. “He almost killed me.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No he didn’t,” you said with a sigh. “And it changed everything. Looking back, I’m not actually sure he was trying to.”

“Where’s Peter now?”

“He tried to kill Scott a few months ago so they locked him way in Eichen House...I guess I shouldn’t be scared of him anymore, but I am. I try to never come out here alone, but sometimes I can’t help it. It scares the shit out of me.”

“Hey,” Brett said softly. “You know, it’s okay to be afraid.”

“I just feel so stupid,” you admitted, looking at the ground.

“Don’t,” he told you. “I’m still afraid, all the time.”

You glanced up at him with raised eyebrows. “You?”

He scoffed at you. “What? You think I don’t get scared just because I’m a werewolf?”

“You’re just so strong. I wouldn’t think you’d be scared of anything.”

He reached up and placed his hand on your cheek, tracing it with his thumb. “I could say the exact same thing about you.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious,” he swore. “You’re strong. It’s one of the reasons I like you.”

Instead of pulling away, you let your cheek rest on his hand. “Do you really like me?”

He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Y/n, I’ve been trying to ask you out for three months.”

“I thought you were just trying to mess with Liam,” you said, shooting him a skeptical look.

His lips twitched up. “Well, that’s an added perk.”

At your playful glare, he grinned. “My main goal has always been to get you to notice me...and not just as the guy who needed saving.”

“Well, you’re the one who saved me tonight,” you pointed out. “So for that I owe you a thank you.”

You pushed yourself up from the bleachers and began to collect the fallen pom poms. “Are you hungry? There’s a diner down the street. Best milkshakes in Beacon Hills.”

Brett blinked. “Wait, are you asking me out?”

You grinned. “Yes. I’m asking you out.”

He smiled, shaking his head in disbelief as he rose from where he was sitting. He scooped up the remaining poms poms and knocked your shoulder gently with his.

“Guess I can’t say no to that.”

#teen wolf #Brett Talbot #brett talbot imagines #selfignitingimagines #teen wolf imagines

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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So it took interest rates that were like WE OWN UR SOUL NOW U FOOL HAHA TWILL BE OURS FOREVER, but joke’s on them lol like I never use that thing anyway. But I got the personal loan for $10K in the end after like a month of searching but who knew that obsessively raising my credit score for a year by like....occasionally chilling all night in an IHOP rather than use a credit card too much on a room would like....pay off with a credit score that actually is useful to me in a way that means I don’t even care right now that hahaha credit scores are just pointless imaginary numbers that really only exist because capitalism’s a dick?

Look I’m allowed to be a hypocrite for three weeks let me have this, I promise I’ll go back to ranting about people selling their souls for the sake of strings of binary code on a computer screen, like just cuz I wasn’t using mine doesn’t mean other ppl don’t want theirs.

Because oh yeah so I was like gimme the loan plz and they were like ugh fine and I somehow got my credit card companies to raise my limits because I’ve had them for over a year now and I honestly couldn’t even tell you how I convinced them to do that like did I haggle did I beg did I put out, who knows, it’s been a very long and strange and sleep deprived month and that’s on top of a long, strange, sleep-deprives two years. Point is between raising my limits on those two, the loan of DOOM and getting a CareCredit card with the remaining credit left to me or before the latter realized I’d just massively dinged my credit cuz the raised limits and loan hadn’t been reported yet, I came up with the $12400. Like again most of that is in the form of imaginary money that I’ll probably spend years paying out of future paychecks so if anyone wants to go ahead and put The Revolution on the books for like, say October, that would actually really work for me. I’d even be all pumped and full of rest and vigor and extra fightey and like, you know how fightey I usually am to begin with I’m just saying....

So now I am literally just waiting for my loan check to clear in my bank account cuz my doctor doesn’t accept checks. Second it does, probably Monday, I’ll go down to my doctors office, pay the $6200 upfront and finish the insurance paperwork for them to submit the claim for the insurance company’s part of it, and they can officially schedule my surgery, possibly in as little as three weeks??!!

Which is absolutely surreal to me, like after literal years of treading water and setbacks and everything dragging out endlessly and he’ll even just yesterday, it’s utterly bizarre finishing my stuff at my bank and doctor’s this morning and hearing how matter of fact they all are about how quickly things could happen now and like. Finally be over. Or like, start lol in the sense of holy shit I could actually maybe have an actual life again.

They can’t confirm a date until my first payment is processed, only then does she officially put me on the books at Cedar Sinai when they can get me into an open OR, but it hopefully could be the 20th. She’s already got another surgery scheduled for that day and an OR booked for it with potential slots before and after it but I can’t count on the 20th as a given just yet. Could still be one, two or even three weeks after that before they actually fit me in, so I’m trying not to set my thoughts and hopes too much on that three weeks from now appointment but that’s easier said than done. LOL.

But whenever it’s actually set for, I go in the day of, pay the second half of the payment, and the surgery takes a few hours but they send me home the same day. My high school friend from San Diego hopefully is going to be able to take enough time off to look out for me while I recover, we’ve been tentatively planning for that for most of a year but couldn’t guarantee anything with her work until we had actual dates which I mean we still don’t technically have. But my jaw will be wired shut for ten days so there’s no way I can manage on my own, esp the way I’ve been getting by day-to-day, and I’ll be on a liquid diet and having to drink everything through a special straw and stuff and completely unable to talk the whole time and oh yeah also apparently in agonizing pain that I’ve been extensively warned could put anything I’ve experienced thus far to shame, so I’m really REALLY looking forward to that part lol. Currently pondering the viability of just knocking myself unconscious every day. We’ll see how it goes.

But after that I go back in ten days later and they unwire my jaw, check that everything looks okay and I’m healing the way I’m supposed to, and I have two weeks of physical therapy and....that’s it. It’s over. I’m just. I’m just leaving that right there for now because I honestly don’t even know what to do with that thought after all this time, it’s. Like I can’t quite wrap my head around it and even really picture how that works. Idk my brain just fizzes out and it’s like wait, are you sure, that doesn’t sound right.

But like I made them go over it multiple times to make sure I wasn’t missing anything or understanding it wrong or whatever, like my doctor was this combination of kinda amused but also exasperated when I finally stopped asking to go over it all again. LOL look I just really really really needed to be sure there wasn’t something else involved that like I was supposed to already know or have been told by someone else, I don’t know okay? Anyone who’s been following me the last couple years knows that this isn’t how this sort of things go, they’re supposed to get my hopes up and then tell me they have no clue what’s wrong or send me off to someone else or tell me oh yeah you also need another thirty thousand and an MRI and some headgear that’s like made of platinum, but we just thought you already knew that. LOL.

But. I mean. Yeah. That’s it. I checked. A lot. Theoretically though unless there’s some new bizarre development in which case I will most likely detach my spirit from my body and evolve into my ultimate great rage power Digimon form, AreYouFreakingKiddingMeMon, and go like, fight god or the physical embodiment of the universe or whatever like I keep threatening....like, that really is what’s left. And then it’s all over. My jaw should by all accounts be restored to its full functionality from before all this. No more pain, no more eternal headache, no vertigo, blind-outs, no problems eating any particular food or swallowing or 45 degree slope to my lower jaw, none of the shit that’s been my day to day existence for well. Years. LOL.

Yeah. Really don’t know what to do with that yet. I just. Can’t. Haha.

Anyway, as I’ve said before, I literally couldn’t have made it to this point without the support of people here, both emotionally and financially. I hate to ask it because you’ve helped so much already, but I’m definitely going to have to ask for your help a little longer, there’s just no way around it. I am completely wiped and tbh overwhelmed so I’m probably going to try and sleep the rest of the day - I was pretty much up all night, unable to sleep while I waited to hear back on all this.

Then when my head’s fully processing things again and not friztzing our because I’ve forgotten how to process good news, lol, I’ll probably be putting together a post asking for your help paying my insurance premiums one last time, and on Monday or once I get the official set in stone date for my surgery I’ll be doing another, basically begging you guys to help keep me afloat the hopefully no more than three weeks til then.

I really really hate having to do that when I know you all have helped and given so much already, and it’ll literally be nothing more than my basic expenses of motel room and food, I don’t need anything beyond that, but I truly don’t see anyway around it. I exhausted every possible avenue available for me to try with my credit in order to get this loan and raise my limits enough, and I milked every cent I could out of those. There’s just no more money to be pulled out of any of that, it took everything I had to get what I needed for the surgery. And I’m afraid of the very real possibility that if I don’t ask for this help because of pride or because of how much I’ve asked for already, I’ll end up using one of my credit cards to pay for my room and such and end up stuck without enough money at hand to cover the second half payment on my day of surgery and I truly literally can not afford that. I have no idea what will happen with my insurance if I have to reschedule, how long it would take to reschedule, etc.

And the other side of this is there’s really not a whole lot left I can do for work at the moment. I’ve finished off all my existing projects except for one last cover and they already paid for it in advance. I honestly don’t know that I could take on new jobs if it ends up with my surgery on the 20th in just three weeks. Searching for more jobs and clients has become more and more time consuming these past months as is, and the simple truth is I couldn’t in good conscience or in honesty guarantee any new clients that I could finish their job in that time frame. Not with my present state physically and mentally and the uncertainty of my day to day expenses and stress about potential complications hanging over my head and not, truthfully, mixing all that well with my pre-existing mental health conditions lol. And yeah, if I can’t guarantee getting any new projects done in three weeks, I can’t afford to take them on for any potential client’s sake, not to mention the sake of my professional reputation, which I will really need to be, y’know, intact, in order to rebuild my life basically from the ground up, once my previous physicality and quality of life comes back after my surgery and recovery (knock on wood). With at least two or three weeks of recovery after the surgery even assuming it goes well and has no other complications, that’s way too much time to leave clients hanging and not be available to address any needs, concerns, revisions, etc. Especially if they’re not returning clients but brand new ones.

So yeah, as much as I would love to not have to ask for any more help than I already have and have been given, I sincerely just don’t see any alternatives that don’t jeopardize or risk wasting all the help I’ve already been given. You know I am fully aware of just how much that is and what its cost some of you, and I already could never repay you for this, not even in terms of just the money itself, but the fact that I know some of you have given at your own very real expense, sending me money that you really could have used yourself, that wasn’t any kind of surplus. I am already beyond grateful and humbled and overwhelmed how many of you have stepped forward to help me in ways that even though I’m older than many of you, I honestly have no precedent for, in ways and to an extent I’ve never received help or support from family. So I just needed to say that again, because I have not asked for any of this lightly, and I don’t now either. Really, really thank you. I’m not exaggerating or being dramatic or hyperbolic or silly for a change, when I say you guys most likely saved my life. Its simple fact. Hell, I was genuinely hours away from sleeping outside freezing my ass off in December, that first time I posted asking for help and you guys came through for me. So, yeah. I will never ever forget this, and never ever be able to give back as much as I’ve been given these past few months, though I will always do my best to pay it forward.

I’m going to go ahead and leave my paypal link here anyway, though I’ll be making those two additional posts tomorrow and next week, as I said. Aiming to keep them shorter than this, well, shorter than any of my posts, really, as shorter posts really just get more traction and I’ll need that. I can always link to the longer explanations of my situation for those wanting to know more.

Again, thank you all more than I can figure out how to put into words. I’m finally. Fuck. LOL. Sorry, I’m being very umm, sentimental over here but like its your fault I’m overwhelmed lol, like omg you guys, you can’t just throw love and affection and support at a guy with so much childhood traaaaaaaaauma, his brain doesn’t know how to handle it, look, you broke him. Are you happy? You broke his brain machine.

Okay cool, we’re back to inanity and obnoxious humor as an overcompensating self-defense mechanism, whew, everything’s normal, everyone can relax. LOL. Anyway, I’m gonna shut up now and go try and get some rest. Just know that I’m doing so feeling way more....hopeful? Optimistic? Faith-in-humanity-and-goodwill-and-community-ey? Than I have in years.

....the fact that I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now is called probably tells you all you need to know about me, huh? LMFAO God I’m so messed up lol. But whatever. Still alive and kicking. So. Y’know. There’s always that.

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming?locale.x=en_US

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hyuckkaiji · 6 years

Text

Don't You Agree?

✨Idol: Kim Jungwoo ▫ Nct(U)

✨Genre: Fluff, Friends to lovers (13), Pianist!Jungwoo, Painter!Reader

✨Description: You were so caught up in your own feelings, so caught up in how you looked at him that you never stopped to see how he looked at you. Not until you saw it through someone else's eyes.

✨Warnings: there is a first for everything ... And this first is *drum roll* I HAVE NO WARNINGS! I DIDN'T EVEN SWEAR! that's a first😂

✨Requested: mmmhhhmmm 😄 @junguwuz Thank You Eve 💖 event

✨Words: 2437

▫▫▫

You groaned for the millionth time as you stared at the canvas before you. You despised painting people, despised it. It never looked the way you wanted it to which frustrated you. So you would try and fix it, which almost always looked worse in your opinion. That frustrated you more, that frustration turned to anger, and that anger cause lack of focus. That initial dislike for your work threw you into this horrendous cycle. You will just re-paint and re-paint and re-paint until it feels like the paint brush has rubbed all the skin off your fingers.

You knew it was a bad cycle, but you couldn't help it. You couldn't help being so critical of your work. Especially portraits, you hated them. You generally avoided them but your friends wanted to do something. See they're photographers, so they wanted their photos to be painted. They want to hold a gala with both the photos and paintings side by side.

And stupidly you agreed to paint the photos. You cursed yourself for not being able to say no to your friends and you cursed your friends for asking, they were well aware that you would agree. See the whole thing is two photographers and two painters. Johnny and Ten were the photographers, while you and Doyoung were the painters.

It was divided in, for lack of better word, two teams. Ten and Doyoung then you and Johnny. You painted just Johnny works while Doyoung did Tens. The whole point of this, you didn't really understand, you just blindly agreed to it.

You scanned over the portrait once more, the feeling of frustration and anger tight in your chest. "Son of a-" "Y/n." You jumped at the sound of your name, your hand shooting to clutch over your heart. You looked to find one of your close friends, a soft smile gracing his features.

"Jungwoo, you scared me half to death." You let out a small sign of relief at the sight of him. "Maybe that wouldn't happen if you learned to lock your doors." You rolled your eyes at him, hopping down from you stool. A small hiss leaving your lips as your bare feet made impact with the cold tile, "Thanks for the advice."

Jungwoo smiled at little bigger at your comment, "No problem. You should be happy your my friend. I would have charged anyone else for such life altering, eye opening advice." You rolled your eyes at him once more. "What are you doing here anyway?"

He clutched his chest, feigning hurt. "I am not allowed to just visit my dear friend. I have to have some ulterior motive." You laughed at his dramatics, your smile mirroring his own. His smile was a sight to see.

You never really told anyone but his smile was what really attracted you too him. Sure he was breathtakingly handsome but his smile. His smile could light up the world for the rest of eternity, that's how beautiful it was, well to you anyway. Despite the years come and gone, all passed with your heart wrenching crush on him, his smile still made your heart flutter. But he didn't need to know that, you actually feared what would become of your relationship if he knew how you really felt. The thought alone hurt more then you could put into words.

"I brought you breakfast." He pushed the box in his hand a little closer to you. Having been to captived by Jungwoo himself, you hadn't even noticed the box. But now that you had noticed, the smell of the fresh baked pastries was mouth watering. You knew exactly where they were from, that little cafe just along the way. It was your favorite, and the fact that Jungwoo knew that, remember that always tugged at your heart.

"You didn't have to." You let out a small sigh. Jungwoo looked at you, a small smile playing at his lips. He reached forward brushing a few stray strands behind your ear. "If I didn't you would never eat." You opened your mouth to protest, but he continued. "You become so engrossed in your work that you won't eat."

You followed him to your kitchen without another word. You knew he was right, he was always right when it came to you. Sometimes you questioned if he knew you better then you knew yourself. But you always threw that thought aside, if he really knew you, he would know had madly in love with him you were. Right? Or maybe not but thats what you told yourself none the less.

Jungwoo set the pastries on the table, pulling a chair out for you before you were even all the way in the kitchen. He grabbed two plates and poured two glasses of pre-made coffee, one for you and one for him. Out of all the seats at your table he chose the one right next to you, he always did. Despite the fact its easier to talk and make eye contact when you are across from one another.

You thanked him before beginning to eat your breakfast, you ate in silence. But that silence didn't last long before he softly said, "I was serious about you locking your door you know." You looked at him curiously, he looked more serious then normal. "Someone could break in and hurt you. Or kill you. Or kidnap you and make you do horrible things."

You laughed, "I don't have valuable things people would want to steal and I don't peak to many people's interest. You having nothing to worry about." It was supposed to be funny but the look of concern on Jungwoo's face made your expression soften. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you y/n." His words were barely above a whisper. "Hey," you said softly, taking his hand in your own, running the pad of your thumb over his knuckles, "I promise nothing will happen to me. I'll start locking my door."

You both finish your food in silence. You sit there for a second before Jungwoo speaks once more, "Can I ask you something?" "You already did." You chuckled at your own lame joke. "I'm dropping you off with Lucas and leaving you there." You smiled at him before he continued, "Could you paint me some time? Please."

It took you a moment to get over the initial shock of the question, "I mean if you really want me too, sure I guess. Why though?" He looked at you, something about that look made your heart flip and your stomach turn. "The way you see the world, y/n, is beautiful. You see something that people deemed ugly, unlovable, or anything or that sort, and you find the beauty in it. You capture that in your art." He paused, taking a deep breath, "Can you see the beauty in me, y/n? Can you capture it with your paintbrush?"

"I will make it the most beautiful painting I've ever done." You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. "Why?" The word was barely audible. "Because you, Kim Jungwoo, are the most beautiful person I've ever met. Inside and out."

You couldn't read the expression on his face and just as he opened his mouth to speak he phone went off. He took a quick glance at his screen, the words, "I have to take this." Quick off his tongue as he was already walking away.

He never came back in. You didn't see or hear from him for days, only finding out where he was from Johnny. "He didn't tell you..." He trailed off at the end, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I always thought that you'd be the first one he'd tell when something like that happened." You looked at your friend curiously, "Why would he tell me first?" "Because he-" Johnny had threw his hand forward as if what he was about to say was the most obvious thing in the world, but he cut himself off, letting his hand fall to his side. Avoiding eye contact he said, "Jungwoo trusts you that's all."

Johnny left shortly after, he had only came over to see how you were doing with painting. You were fine before but now all you could think about was how Jungwoo was going to play a piece he composed for world leaders. Maybe you would have been happy for him if he had told you himself, he deserved it, definitely.

He had, in such a short amount of time, become the most know and adored pianist in Korea. He deserved to become known internationally. His pieces, his pieces made you feel emotions you didn't know you had, they make you feel emotions with such intensity it's all you can think about for days after. They were all as stunning and as unique as him, they engraved themselves in your mind, much like his smile. So lovey his tunes, so lovey.

But happiness for your friend was not what you were feeling, no you felt hurt, betrayed. You didn't understand why he would just skip town and not tell you, you didn't understand and you wanted to.

The days without speaking to Jungwoo passed agonizingly slow. Those days turned to weeks and those weeks turned to a month. And before you knew it you hadn't spoken to the man you had been in love with for five years in two and a half months. By then you had finished all your paintings, the opening night of the gala was but two nights away. But your thoughts were shrouded in Jungwoo, just as they had been since he just up and left.

Doyoung squeezed your hand excitedly, "Are you ready for this?" You nodded, eyeing your friend through your peripheral vision, "To be honest, I still don't really understand the point of this whole thing." "Interpretation of beauty." He said it with such confidence, "It was a moment in time, beautiful in its own right. But the paintings and the photos, despite being of the same thing from the same captured moment, have a different essence to them. You will never truly see the world the way I do and I will never see the world the way you do. We could have a million people do this, paint the same thing, but they will all be different because each one is their interpretation of the beauty captured in that moment."

The dimmed lights soon became bright leaving all yours and your friends hard work, as Doyoung said up to interpretation. But as soon as you could see the art displayed on the walls as sweet tune filled the air. It made you feel content, happy. Certainly not what you'd been feeling these last two months. And you knew, only one person could have made that song.

You stayed as far away from the piano as you could, staying on the other side of the building, occasionally talking to people, answering their questions. Eventually you started to wonder, seeing the work of your other two friends. It was beautiful, if that's the way they saw the world, the world was beautiful.

You stopped on one set in particular, you hadn't known this existed. It was of you and Jungwoo. You remember that day, it was your birthday. You had spent it painting, when eventually Jungwoo came over and forced you out of your apartment. He didn't even give you time to change out of your paint stained clothes. He told you if he let you do that you would find away to stay home and continue painting. He was probably right. But nonetheless he took you to his family home, where he had thrown together a small get together of all your closest friends.

You had eaten, drank, messed around like a little kid, it was a good day. But the best part, the best part was when Jungwoo pulled you aside and took you to the room with his grand piano. He told his gift for you this year was song he composed for you. It was the most beautiful thing you ever heard, it was one of those songs that made you feel things you didn't know existed.

In that photo, even in that painting Doyoung seemed to capture it, the look of complete content, adoration, and ... love. There was a look of love not only on your face but Jungwoo's too. You didn't notice then, maybe it was because you'd always been to caught in your own feelings to see that he looked at you the same way. Even now you were too caught up in yourself to notice the music had stopped.

"They look happy." Oddly, you didn't jump. You could feel his breath graze over the side of your face, you could feel his gaze burning into you skull. You could almost feel his want, his need to touch you, you had the same feeling. But you both stayed where you were, "They do." Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard you, he always heard what you said. "Its a shame they aren't together," He paused, you could fell the hesitation, the fear coming off of him, "Don't you agree?"

You had already come to the realization and yet the words actually coming out of his mouth still left you in shock. You had stayed quiet for too long, Jungwoo took a defeated step back. Only for your to turn around and take his hand in your own. You ran the pad of your thumb across his knuckles, you smiled to yourself before looking at him.

Breathtaking, he was just breathtaking. "I do, I do agree. And," it was your turn to pause, your turn to be scared even though there was only a tiny shred of doubt. "I think its a very fixable problem." At those words, those words that set his heart on fire, he smiled. A smile brighter then any before.

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss. It wasn't passionate or needy or anything of that sort. It was soft, content, it was happy.

"I love you."

78 notes · View notes

angelicwritingoflesilva · 6 years

Text

Sunday, “Everest’s Loneliest Creature”

!! After more than five hours of writing, two hours of editing, here it is, in all its glory: Everest’s Loneliest Creature! Okay, time for some life lessons:

What I’ve Learned: Journals are so hard to write. ;u; People who write stories with just letters, holy frick, props to you. Seriously, making this entertaining without making it seem like a regular piece was... difficult (not gonna say very because that makes for weaker writing see I definitely know what I’m doing).

Props to more people: historical fiction authors. It was hard enough researching something current. How you all can do it for something that has been gone for like at least 50 years, no clue.

EVEREST TAKES FOREVER TO GET GOING. LIKE, HECK, FORTY DAYS TO REACH CAMP IV? REALLY? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WRITE A SHORT STORY AAAAA! no i’m not bitter

Characters are really fun to develop behind scenes! I thought that I would just throw the friends who came with Mallory to the side, but they were really fun to write about. I think that I gave them, certainly simple, but interesting personalities. I actually think that the characters are believable in this story, which is something that I think I struggle with a lot.

Final Word Count: 8,986

Final Time Spent (writing/editing): 8 hr 14 minutes

Trigger warning: being stranded somewhere, storms, big monsters who’ll love you to death, and sadness :(

Everest’s Loneliest Creature

February 28, 2018

Hello there, journal! I’m going on the climb of my life with my friends, Jasmine and Casey. We’re going back to my family’s birthplace, to a small country housing the most giant of mountains! A small fry taking reign of the largest shark! A teeny mouse housing a fierce African elephant!

That’s right, we’re going to Nepal to climb the one and only Mount Everest! Just writing that feels unreal, wow!

Casey suggested the idea to me last year, around April or something. We were studying deer behavior in the field when he suddenly said that he wanted to climb Everest one day. I rolled my eyes at him and said that we would never have the money. I make plenty to keep myself afloat, but to afford an entire trip to Everest?

Besides, I told him, I’m not great at keeping jobs. To do something like climb Everest when I’m not even sure if the research program is going to want me tomorrow would be dumb. He and I laughed about the time that I abandoned my (infinitely and endlessly boring) task of documenting the edible plants in Yellowstone to follow a goose and her goslings, and my subsequent firing. But, it’s fine. I didn’t really like the people who employed me at that time anyway.

After we stopped laughing, he said to think about it. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. Of course, I wasn’t planning on doing anything with the idea, but Casey is really persistent. He kept bothering me about it, and finally, I threw him a scrap and said I’d talk to my parents about it. Now, mind you (or me, I guess?), I don’t need their permission to do it. I just thought that if I were to go climbing on Everest, they would want to know. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt if they could give me a little money, right?

So, I came to their house, served them a gourmet dinner of oven-baked dino nuggets, and then told them what I was thinking about Everest. I told them that it would be a good way to connect with great grandpa Hiransh’s roots.

Mom looked at dad, and the two shared a concerned glance. They told me how dangerous it was to climb Everest, and I’m sitting here like, come. On. I am a field biologist. I work with giant snakes and bears, already have spent lots of time climbing mountains, in very dangerous areas, and you don’t think that I know that Everest is dangerous?

Anyways I just nodded as they warned me, smiling and occasionally saying, yep, yep. Or, yeah, I’ve heard that. Nothing disrespectful, just enough to show them that I had done my research.

Eventually, mom said what I was thinking--expenses. She looked over to my father, her hands wringing in her lap. She said that a permit alone could cost me greatly, but I told her that I had already done research on how much it cost. But, I also said, I would love if you guys could spare a hundred or something so I don’t, like, freeze to death on the mountain because I couldn’t afford a coat. My dad laughed at that, but my mom just bit her lip. I promised to pay them back.

My mom and dad talked, and they finally came to an agreement to give me $500. My dad said, jokingly, that if I didn’t pay them back, that he would get to shave off what remained of my hair. (long story short: I decided to get a pixie cut and dyed the tips of my hair dark green, and I think it looks pretty bad. Casey says it looks good, though, so maybe I’ll keep it like this)

So, I left with an extra $500. It wasn’t much, compared to the monumental expenses of climbing Everest, but it was a start. I had to basically empty my spend account and dump it in my growth account. Who knows, I thought. Maybe by the time I climb Everest, I’ll have a whole extra dollar! (I actually ended up getting about ten dollars! Score!)

I started to train for the expedition. At first, I just worked normally at the gym, and then I started to use a mountain training mask. Basically, it just lowers how much oxygen your body gets, and it gets you ready to breathe the thinner mountain air. I also had to work really hard at my job to work up enough extra money so I could go to Nepal and not be bankrupt by the time I got back. I volunteered for every job, even the extra boring ones, and did my best to stay on track. Gradually, my bank account grew.

My friend, Jasmine, heard about this and decided to jump in. Jasmine is more serious than I am (job wise, at least), and, although she’s only like 20, she’s really smart. Her parents were able to afford insanely great schooling for her, and they chipped in for a lot of our trip. We probably we would have had to delay it another year if they hadn’t helped us so much. She and I get along well since she can kind of reel me in when I’m ready to run off.

So, while I was training, I was slowly buying the equipment I would need. Of course, I got the usual clothing--sweat-wicking underwear, long-sleeved shirt and long pants, fleece jacket, coat, and then a larger, bulkier coat, etc, etc. Pretty boring stuff, if you ask me.

But the coolest thing I bought was this air tank. First off, it is a lot lighter than other air tanks, but it can last a climber much longer, because of an incredibly incredible reason that is so incredible that it might just blow your incredibly uninformed mind. It is split into two compartments. One is filled with oxygen, the other is the air breathed out by the climber. There’s something techy about breathing in opening a valve and then breathing out closing it, so it leads to two different compartments, but I’m not really in that field of science, so what do I know? The air that is breathed out is filtered into the one compartment. There’s this bio paper thing that’s kind of like a plant in which it takes in the CO2 to make oxygen, but I literally have no idea how it works. I think there’s something to do with genetic manipulation, maybe? Who knows.

I’ve worked with it more than any of my other tanks and I love it to bits and pieces. I think it can last up to a week and a few days before the bio paper becomes worn out. After that, it becomes basically just a normal air tank.

So, anyways, we’re taking a plane tomorrow. This is like the only notebook I haven’t written in yet, so I’m taking it along. Luckily, it’s really sturdy. Not exactly my taste in books, since it is butt ugly. It’s from like five years ago, so that doesn’t help either. Well, whatever. It’ll do.

It’s going to take more than an entire day to get to Nepal, but we’re making it! I just finished packing not even like five minutes ago. Wait, just glanced at the clock. This has taken me a lot longer than I thought--forty minutes, actually! Well, I better sign off, if I’m going to catch the five o’clock flight tomorrow morning. Getting up at 3:30, driving out for thirty minutes, going through security, and then boarding. Sounds like fun, right?

See you in the morning!

Mallory Woodruff

March 01, 2018 (well, technically, it’s the second but it still feels like the first sooo)

Casey snores so loudly. I swear, my seat is shaking with the sound of him. I don’t want to wake him up though. If I could manage to fall asleep, I would too. But I’m not a great flyer, so I’d probably wake up and vomit all over myself.

Jasmine isn’t sleeping either. She’s still getting caught up with work. She’s kind of a push-over and takes other people’s unwanted work even when she doesn’t feel like doing it. She says that it’s not because she doesn’t want to stand up to them, it’s because she wants to get a promotion. But, if getting a promotion equals ten hours of work on a plane that has spent forever sputtering its way over eternal turbulence with no overpay, uh, thanks, but no thanks.

I’ve been passing the time by reading about Everest. Of course, lots of the writing is the “exciting” stuff that has happened on Everest, i.e., death, destruction, and the like. Maybe I should stop reading it. It’s interesting, but I guess it’s also kind of morbid for me to be reading it right now? Like, is it giving me bad karma? Does karma work like that? I don’t know.

We’re hitting more turbulence, and I doubt I’ll be able to make any comprehensible sentence in a few minutes. We’re supposed to land in like an hour, and then we take one final flight to Nepal.

Mallory Woodruff

March 03, 2018

Okay, so we’re in Nepal, and it’s warm. I mean, I know it was supposed to be warm, but I wasn’t actually expecting it to be this warm. With Everest so cold, it’s strange to me that, so close to the mountain, it’s warm. Anyways, update time.

So, we landed in Nepal smoothly. It was late, around one o’clock, when we landed. The other flight was supposed to get us to Nepal at ten, but it was delayed due to a storm. Talk about a bummer.

When we landed, I wanted to go out and eat somewhere nice. Casey had wanted to sleep some more, but when he heard about my idea, he instantly wanted to go, too. Jasmine eventually caved in, because, first off, food, and, second off, food.

So, we ate out. It was really nice, and I was so happy to not be eating plane/awful fast food. It was like a miracle, to have delicious spicy food again. I gobbled down my entire plate and then proceeded to wistfully mop up the remains of my dish and lick them off my finger. Casey had all of his, too, but then threw up later since he hadn’t eaten anything in like the past fifteen hours. (note to self: spicy food on an empty stomach is a no go. Learn from Casey’s mistake) Jasmine just ate some rice and had water.

Anyways, we have to take a short plane ride to Lukla tomorrow. We stopped in Kathmandu because it is gorgeous and I insisted on it. I accidentally left my camera at home, so you’ll have to make due with some crappy phone pictures.

The city is amazing, and, the best part, there are forests nearby. Like, national parks and stuff. If I were to move to Nepal, I would definitely come here. It’s really great. Wow, I sound so enthusiastic ending that sentence with a period. Shall I do it some more. Wow. I’m so excited that I’m going to climb Everest. Wow. Okay, I’ll stop now, haha. But seriously, it is beautiful around here!

It’s getting late, so I’m going to sign off. If anything cool happens on the flight, I’ll let you know!

Mallory Woodruff

March 04, 2018

The flight was only around 30 minutes, nothing crazy happened. The landing was terrifying though--the runway is so tiny! I swear, I was gripping Jasmine’s arm so hard that I’m surprised I didn’t break it. But, we’re safe and sound!

Today, we met with our guide. He speaks very limited English, but I’m sure that it won’t be a problem. After all, taking people places usually doesn’t require any words! I’m pretty good at reading expressions anyways, I think. Working with animals all the time has actually helped me learn people’s emotions and what they want to convey really well! It’s surprising, but sometimes I can guess what a person’s going to say even before they open their mouth. It’s a useful skill to have, I think.

We’re going to start our trek to Everest Base Camp today after we stretch for a little bit. I’ll probably write something once we stop.

Mallory Woodruff

March 04, 2018

Hey, for once I kept my word for doing something! For starters, let me talk about the villages.

So, people live on Everest. I don’t know if that’s common knowledge (I didn’t know before I started researching), but there you have it. They live in these small towns, with stone roads and stone houses. Although that sounds bland, they also have these amazing red roofs. The sun shines off of them softly, without the pernicious glare that reflective things back home have.

All our guide had to do was gesture at the village with a smile for us to freak out. Even Jasmine was in awe. There are a few cylindrical structures, with a small roof place on top. Tassels hang from the roof, which is shaped like a triangle but is kind of curvy. There are words written in a foreign language, in yellow-painted blocks. The main body is covered in red paint, and yellow and green designs line the top and bottom of the cylinder. It is just gorgeous!

They also have this line that runs throughout the village. There are faded cloths attached to it, colored in dim red and almost blushing blue shades. They are apparently prayer flags. Our guide told them that it’s not for gods; it’s for love and goodness. The flags apparently are made specifically to fly in the wind, to spread peace and joy. The village people believe it, and, if I’m being honest, watching the lines flicker in the wind, I do too.

We set up tents and are sleeping off the side of the trail. There are little lodges called tea houses, but we passed one, thinking we’d be able to make it to the next, since we were moving faster than expected. We were wrong. So, yeah.

I’m sleeping in Jasmine’s awesome tent (you can unzip parts of the tent for windows! In a tent! I wish my family was rich, then I could have cool tents too!), Casey brought his own tiny one, and our guide obviously has his own. I’ve seen at least six yaks, and we nearly ran into one on the trail. We had to walk around it, and the detour took a good twenty minutes to find a safe path, take it, and then get back to the trail. Definitely worth it, though! What I would give to study those yaks, though…

We have around another week to go before we make it up to base camp. I’ll try to update tomorrow!

Mallory Woodruff

March 09, 2018

Okay, so maybe I forgot about this and by the time I remembered I was too lazy to actually write in it. But! I’m writing now! We’re taking a quick water break and catching our breaths. I’ll catch you up on what’s happened since the fourth.

We’re about a day from base camp. We’ve actually made great time, and the weather has been super cooperative. The landscape has turned from green and gorgeous to pebbly and full of shrubs. It’s still pretty, and there are still prayer flags up here, it’s just not as welcoming as it was lower on the trail. Kind of crazy how different things can be just a little further up.

Remember those tea houses I mentioned? Well, we’ve only had to sleep in tents once since that first night. Our guide wanted us to be comfortable, so we’ve been able to sleep in one basically every night now. To sleep in beds is incredible, even if they are pretty stiff. You can also eat there, and by doing so, I’ve met a few people. Most are just going to base camp, hiking around, and then heading back down the mountain. A few have said that they’re attempting a summit, though! Glad to know that there are other crazies out there :)

Anyways, yesterday was the day that we had to sleep in our tents, and today we will too. The air is crazy thin up here. I am so happy that I trained really hard for this--I don’t think I would be able to make it up to camp otherwise. Our plan is to get to base camp, spend two days hiking, and then climb up to the higher camps.

So much has happened in the past nine days. Reading my old passages feels like they’re from a lifetime ago! It’s crazy; I don’t think time has ever held such meaning for me! Looks like we’re getting ready to move. I promise I will write as soon as we get to base camp.

Mallory Woodruff (why am I signing my name? I know it’s me. Maybe I should stop? Eh, too late now. Conformity!)

March 10, 2018

Haha! I did keep my promise! We’re here at base camp, and there are quite a few other climbers with their tents pitched. Some of them are really friendly, but most of them just want to be left alone as they enjoy the mountains. Our guide is going to accompany us on our first summit attempt, but after that, he’s leaving. (totally not because we couldn’t afford him any longer) He warned us against attempting a summit without a guide, but, although we didn’t tell him, we’re definitely going to do it anyways. Well, at least Casey and I will. Jasmine doesn’t seem too thrilled with the idea of climbing without someone who actually knows what they’re doing.

Anyways, like I said, we’re going to hike around for two days and then start climbing to the second camp. It’s going to take a really long time to get up to Camp IV, which is the camp directly before we attempt a summit. Like, 40 days long. I’ll try to update, but we’re probably going to be pushing pretty hard. :) See you later, I guess.

Mallory Woodruff

March 31, 2018

Halfway there! We just reached Camp II. It’s rough. So far, no need for oxygen tanks. Once we get to Camp IV, we’re going to need them, though. It’s crazy--every day feels incredible. Although, I do miss my bed… and the warm Wyoming sun… and my garden… BUT! It is still incredible to be on Everest. Besides, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I’ll always be able to sleep, sunbathe, and garden, but I won’t always be able to climb Everest!

Our camp is situated on a bed of rocks. Not exactly the most comfortable, but it’s the least slippery surface out here. There’s also a large ice wall-like thing behind us that keep the wind from, you know, blowing us off of the mountain in our sleep. Despite all its discomforts, it has a killer sunrise. Seriously, the colors tint the mountains in gorgeous shades of oranges and yellows, and the sun pokes his head out between the peaks, as if playing a game of peek-a-boo with me. It’s beautiful.

Sorry I haven’t been able to write recently. Also sorry that this entry is so short. I kind of want to focus on the trip while it’s happening, though. Otherwise, it’ll be over and I’ll have no memories but writing in this old journal! Plus, Jasmine and Casey got into a fight over something dumb. Jasmine is paranoid about work, and Casey told her to relax, Jasmine was like, Oh, shut up. You don’t work at all. Casey called her a rich asshole.

So. Yeah. That’s unfortunate. They haven’t talked to each other in like the past two days, but I’m sure they’ll eventually get over it. Besides, there’s not much else for one to do up here but think and talk. So I bet, in a few more days it’ll blow over.

Mallory Woodruff

April 03, 2018

Yep. They’re back to normal now. Jasmine is still worried about work, but Casey’s cooled off from her jabs. I’m glad it’s over--they were kind of using me as a shield against the other person and it really sucked.

We should get to Camp III in about a week. My brain feels numb from all of the snow, but, holy cow, I am happy that I have sunglasses. It’s blinding sometimes, even with them on! The way the sun smacks off of the snow and into your eyes--it hurts! I’ve avoided sunburns since I’m basically covered from head-to-toe. I am so glad that I have all of this equipment.

Oh! I also decided to take only two of my air tanks with me. The trip up to Everest will take only a day. When our guide learned that I was carrying four tanks, he just laughed and told me to pick one. I decided, hey, why not take two?

One will last me around three days, and the other is the super special one that I was talking about earlier. Really, there is probably no need for the first one, since the special one will probably sustain me just fine. But, you know, just in case. :)

There are only a few puffs in the sky today. It’s gorgeous.

Mallory Woodruff

April 09, 2018

Again, we made good time and arrived at Camp III a whole day early! That leaves us some time to chill, and, for me, to write in my journal!

I’ve been taking some wickedly great pictures. I wish I could print them out right now, but I’ll have to wait until I get back home. Even then, they’re not going to be of the highest quality. But, Jasmine has a camera (as I have learned in recent days), and I have been slowly mooching it off of her. Maybe I can convince her to print out some photos from it when she gets home? Hopefully!

Our guide is really kind and helpful. He’s been sure to keep us safe. If there’s any sign of a storm, he warns us to be careful and sometimes turns us back. Nothing has happened, though… yet! Haha.

Anyways, from here on out, it’s going to be really tough. Things are going to be slow, since the air’s so thin up here, and we’ll have to stop every half hour or so. When we’re not moving, I’m going to be catching my breath. So, you’ll just have to wait until we get there for an update. I’ll make sure to give you all the “deets,” though! I’m sure Jasmine and Casey will have another absolutely awesome fight to talk about.

Mallory Woodruff

April 20, 2018

Finally made it. Christ, I am tired. As expected, Jasmine and Casey are fighting again. The air isn’t the only thing that’s running thin up here.

I think Jasmine has gone into super high-stress mode now that her phone has no service (i.e., no communication to work, i.e., no way to make sure that everything’s going alright, i.e., Jasmine’s hell). She’s even short with me. I try to remind her that we are, after all, climbing Everest, but she won’t listen. To her, it’s probably not even that special. Her family could probably afford a summer home on Everest.

Casey’s been alright. He’s quieter than usual, probably because of the drama with Jasmine and stuff, but at least he’s not yelling at me.

With no one really to talk to, I guess I have some time to write. But I don’t really know what to write about…

We’re going to spend a day resting and then go attempt our first summit, at midnight. Our guide said that it’s best to start the climb at midnight, so we can make it up the mountain before the light dies the next day. He said we should get up there by morning, hopefully.

It’ll probably be our only try, since Jasmine’s head is going to explode if we spend much longer up here. I’m inclined to agree with her. I think all of this time spent together is somehow doing our friendships more harm than good. Once we get back to the States, this should all be undone. Hopefully.

Anyways, I’m probably just going to take more pictures tomorrow. Don’t miss me too much, journal.

Mallory Woodruff

April 21, 2018

Ascent day! I’m really excited! Not even Casey’s and Jasmine’s bickering can make this day go badly. I am determined to make the most of this day/night. In about 30 minutes, we’re going to start climbing. There are a few clouds, and the wind has picked up a little bit, but our guide says it should be alright. He feels bad for how Casey and Jasmine have been bickering and promised us to try his very best to get us to the summit.

I should probably stop writing and help out. I’ll write later hopefully, once we reach the summit! Not much though, I’ll probably just write ‘summit!’ or something, since I’ll want to enjoy the view as much as I can. I’ll make the word very pretty though! Maybe I’ll curve the S specially and make the t wind underneath the whole word--that would look pretty great. :)

Mallory Woodruff

April ???

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

I have no idea what day it is. At least three days have passed. I’ve been out for almost all of it, I have no idea what to do.

Shit.

I’ve lost everyone. I can’t move, either. The storm blew in way too much snow, every step is a risk. All I could do was build a snow den.

I have enough water for a while. I’m asleep (well, passed out), most of the time. I have no idea when rescue will arrive, so I’ve set my air tank to its lowest setting. Christ, I just need to explain everything.

We were climbing up the mountain when the winds began to pick up. It was about an hour after we had started. Our guide, being the careful man that he is, said that we should stop and go back to camp. He even offered us a free day of his labor so we could attempt the summit again.

So, we turned back. But the storm had crept up on us in the dark. The winds picked up, and kicked up the snow. My flashlight could barely scout out a few inches in front of me. It was pitch-black too, so that didn’t help anything either.

The howling gusts overpowered our voices. I screamed for Casey and Jasmine, but I never heard a response. Eventually, I had to assume that either they had run to camp, or they were dead. I built a snow shelter, basically a glorified hole in the side of the mountain.

I collapsed and turned my air tank down to the lowest setting. I think it has a day left in it. That’s what the meter says, anyway.

I am so infinitely happy that I was carrying my extra tank. I also have at least two dozen bottles of water. I have some food, but not enough for more than a few days. At least since I’m barely awake, I don’t need as much to stay alive. My clothing layers are all that’s keeping me warm enough. But I can already feel the beginnings of frostbite. You aren’t meant to stay still when trekking on Everest.

The snowstorm hasn’t stopped yet. It’s crazy how powerful it is. On one of the days I remember, I had to clear out my den, since it was filled with a fine powder of snow. Also, the fact that the storm isn’t over yet poses another risk--rescue. They obviously can’t send a chopper in this weather, so I’m just going to have to hold on as long as I can.

This might be my last entry ever. If so, mom, dad, I love you so much. I doubt that you’ll ever read this message if I die, but on the off chance that you do, know that I love you more than my job, despite what you probably think.

Jasmine, I love you too. Please chill once in a while. It helps all of us, but mostly you.

Casey, never stop being you. Find yourself a nice woman and have the romance you’ve been dreaming about.

I don’t even know why I’m writing. I should stop.

The storm is finally over. My first tank is empty, but it doesn’t matter because I have my second. I attached it without any issues.

I cleared away some snow and laid out my empty water bottles and bags of provisions, and my air tank. Forgive me for polluting, but this is the best way for someone to spot me. In my snow hut, I’m going to be invisible, despite my bright orange coat. But I can’t go out, in case it starts to snow again. Plus, everything is unsteady. If I took one step beyond my garbage signal, I would probably tumble down the mountain.

All I can do is hope, and wait. I’m too tired to continue writing. I have to turn my oxygen back down, just in case. It’ll make me pass out, but I’ll have enough to last me at least a few days. I’ll eventually wake up. I will.

Okay, so let me start this off by saying I have no idea what the hell happened.

I woke up in a strange cave. My stuff is all in the corner, but the floor is dirt and the ceiling is ice. So, if this is the government’s rescue mission, they chose a strange place to put me.

What concerns me is the shape of the cave. I’ve worked in the field for a long time. When an animal lives in an area for a long time, especially dig-outs, the walls become smooth from them constantly rubbing past them. Usually, the area has to be pretty small. Otherwise, their bodies won’t reach everywhere.

This cave is showing the same signs. However, it is a large cave, so the animal that supposedly lives here must be massive, easily eight or nine feet tall. More likely, its height is in the double digits.

At the same time, it just can’t be an animal den. It feels more like a person’s hideaway than a den. There are no bones or discarded branches. No urine smell. I’ve never seen an animal keep its den this clean. Hell, I don’t keep my house this clean.

Finally, there was just a pile of blackberries waiting for me. Fresh. As if picked a few hours ago. Do you know the last time I saw vegetation?

Before we reached base camp. Which is now more than 3,000 meters below me.

What. The. Hell.

Maybe it’s the abominable snowman, but he grows a really nice garden and heats it using his magic. Maybe he’s super civil and shit, and enjoys a strong cup of tea. Brushes his fur every night with a comb elegantly carved from pine wood. He’s probably so nice that he brought me FURTHER UP THE MOUNTAIN.

Oh yeah, not kidding. I’m definitely higher up. I’ve had to turn up my oxygen input, because I will not wake up if I turn it any lower. Not in this temperature. Plus, I don’t want to be surprised again by whatever took me up here. My tank has about a week left in it, I think.

I need to start moving. I’m going to eat the blackberries and then head out. There’s no way that a rescue team will think to search for me higher up on the mountain than where I was when the storm hit. They’ll just assume I’m dead. I’m going to start walking down.

Okay, so I have two things to say.

One, I’m not going to be heading down the mountain for a long time.

Two, I found what brought me up here.

So, I walked out of the strange cave and not even five feet away was a gigantic creature. I have never seen anything like it. It has no fur. Rather, it looks like it only has scales. But there’s no way that it’s a regular reptile. A cold-blooded creature would freeze to death in seconds at this height. Anything would, but especially something that has no internal body temperature.

Its jaw jutted from its face, and massive teeth spike out from them. Angular horns formed from the side of its head and flanked its jaw. Crown-like ice structures (or perhaps more horns) poked out on its head. It looks like that, naturally, it would be white, but it is pale blue on every edge of its body. Almost like it’s suffering from frostbite, but all of its limbs have remained intact.

Its claws are massive, easily closeable and made for crushing. Its shoulders are rough and powerful. It has a tail with a claw-like appendage at the end, the use of which I can only imagine in my nightmares. Its belly is plated with sharp, curving scales that fold over each other to allow easy movement.

Although my biologist’s mind noted all of this in a moment, I was instantly drawn to its eyes. They were the only part of the creature that stuck out from the snow. They were a deep orange, blazing with life. I could see recognition in them. The way it focused on me was not in a normal, animal one. It was like… it knew me. I think it’s intelligent.

I’ve never seen something like it. I have no idea how it’s alive up here. Why hasn’t anyone seen it before? Why haven’t I heard of it?

After I saw it, I didn’t scream and I didn’t run. If there’s one thing I’ve learned during my time on the field is that the best thing you can do during a situation is be calm. I just turned around and walked back into the cave. Every step caused more blood to flow from my head and into my feet. Once I felt the dirt underneath my shoes, I passed out.

And now I’m awake. I’ve checked my tank--I haven’t been out long. Perhaps an hour or so. There are more blackberries on the ground. I have now realized that it put the blackberries there earlier. It’s keeping me alive. But why? Why not just eat me?

That’s another reason why I’m drawing the conclusion that it is intelligent. There is no other way to explain its strange, un-animal-like behavior. I’m going to go out again, but this time, I’m going to try to see what I can learn about it. I don’t think it means me harm. If it does, there’s not much I can do anyway. I’m bringing my journal, in the rare chance that I can get a sketch of it.

Wish me luck. I hope I don’t die.

It’s night now. Let me explain what happened during the eight hours in which I didn’t write anything.

It definitely means me no harm. When I came out again, it did nothing but watch me with those warm sunrise eyes. I approached and, despite my best abilities, I was shaking pretty badly. When I reached it though, all it did was lift its head.

It stared at me, as if drinking in every detail. From the tip of my hat to the toes of my boots, it memorized me. If I had any doubts about its intelligence, I forgot them then.

I felt like I was on the field again, but the roles were reversed. Suddenly, I was the animal being studied under the watchful eye of a giant. It was terrifying but thrilling. In a strange way, I felt as if I was being cared for by it, like its recognition was something to be treasured.

As the day wore on, our “friendship” grew. It showed me to its berry storage. There were dozens of fresh branches. How it brought them up the mountain, I don’t know.

It also allowed me to sketch it. I have a few pages filled with drawings and rough measurements. My phone is dead, though, and Casey was the one handling the solar panels and extra batteries. So, no photos.

It is way more intelligent than I previously thought. I talked to it out of habit (and partially out of loneliness), and it looked at me with… interest. Understanding. Like it was learning the English language as I was speaking to it. I would kill to get a brain scan of this creature.

In less than three hours, I have been able to communicate it using simple hand gestures. It picked up on them quickly, far more quickly than even a moldable-brained toddler could. However, it doesn’t just know the hand signs, it understands them too.

We watched the sunset together. I sat with it near a cliff face. It stared at the sun as it dipped behind the tree line far below, its slitted pupils dilating and growing as they adjusted to the changing light. I watched the sunset by looking at the reflection of it on the creature’s eyes. It never looked at me once, entranced by the beautiful colors. Occasionally, it would close its eyes in a manner that I can only describe as longing. It would tilt back its head and breathe in deeply, its nostrils flaring, as if marking this moment in time, a sweet memory to savor in dark times. I understand the feeling.

When it was dark, the creature stood. Stretching, it motioned at me to move. We returned to the den, and there was just enough room for the both of us. I turned on my flashlight and tried to communicate more with the creature using hand signals. It couldn’t reply well, but it was obvious that it understood me.

I motioned at myself and held up one finger. Then, I gradually began to add more to my hand, until I had all five fingers up. Then I pointed down the mountain. I gestured at it and raised one finger, tilting my head inquisitively. The question was clear: where is your family?

The beast didn’t do anything for a second, silently staring at my finger, single among the other folded fingers. It closed its eyes and laid its head on the ground. Confused, I craned my neck to see why it had ignored me. A small tear leaked out of its closed eye, instantly crystallizing on its cheek. I turned away, my heart thudding painfully.

There are none left of its kind.

Is that why it took me? How long has it been alone? I think it’s lonely, really lonely. Maybe that’s why it hasn’t killed me yet.

…

I haven’t thought about escape much. Well, until now I suppose. This creature… whatever it may be, it is the most interesting thing that has ever happened to me. I can’t think about Jasmine or Casey. I have to focus on what’s going on in front of me. If they are dead, my tears will not help, and if they aren’t, then I have no reason to cry.

I’m going to sleep now.

Today was wonderful. The creature gave me more berries to eat. Although they are getting old (and are quite frostbitten), they still are tastier than the pre-packaged food I’ve been living off of for the past few weeks.

I’ve managed on my water well. I have to be careful, though. It’s cold enough up here that any dribbles will freeze. I don’t think it’s cold enough to freeze my mouth, but I’m going to be careful, just in case. I think if I drink about two bottles per day, I could live up here for about a week.

I have started calling the creature Hiransh. I don’t know many Nepali names, and, plus, I think my great grandfather’s fits him perfectly. Hiransh doesn’t seem to need food or water. Of course, he must eat and drink at some time; all creatures must. I believe that he is a predominantly hibernal animal. Almost like mountain goats, I think he spends most of his life on the mountains, coming down occasionally to eat, but, unlike goats, spends lots of his time sleeping. It makes the most sense to me.

His tail is the strongest part of his body, that much I have learned. Four large claws sprout out of the end of it, and, as he once allowed me to inspect it, I have discovered that, inside the claws, it is covered with tiny, hook-like bones. They curl inwards to the center of the tail.

Here is my theory: Using his tail for balance, he climbs up and down the mountains every few months to get food. His tail is used almost like a fifth leg. He relies on it to grasp surfaces as he moves along the terrain, and, on occasion, to support himself as he climbs directly upwards. Despite his bulky build, he has shown himself to be fluid of movement. I would ask him if I’m correct, but he’s been icy since my question about his family. Pun definitely intended.

Anyways, Hiransh has kept me safe. He can’t keep me warm (he is cold-blooded, as I have found out. Still no clue how his body can deal with that), but he does block most of the wind with his gigantic body. I think he has come to see me as almost a hatchling of his own. With no one else around, it seems perfectly natural for him to do that.

He showed me a new den that he has been building. It is much bigger than his old one. He sat at the entrance, staring after me with a pleased expression in his eyes as I explored his cave. I have noticed over time that he’s meticulously neat--no piles of snow clutter the inside of the cave, no claw marks gouge the carefully patted-down floor, and branches from the berries are stacked in the corner.

I wonder how many caves he’s built. On top of that, I wonder how long he’s been alive. I would bet he has been around for quite a long time. He has an ancient, all-knowing air to him. Maybe that’s romanticizing things a little bit, haha.

I have to think of him as less as a subject to be studied, and more of as a friend. Perhaps it is because I am alone up here, but I like to think that, in any circumstance, Hiransh and I would get along well.

I almost wish I could stay up here forever. Hiransh is the discovery of a lifetime.

Perhaps my mom was right. Maybe I do love my job more than my friends and family.

Spent three days without writing anything. Very sorry! I have been really busy--will tell you more about it tomorrow!

So, I’m heading to bed now. Let me tell you what’s happened over the past few days. So, the first out of the four that I have to talk about. Hiransh worked on his den. I couldn’t do much, but I helped pack in the walls, so they were more structurally sound. He was appreciative of my work and grumbled a low thanks in his chest. It made me feel warm inside.

We worked well together, with him doing the moving and me doing the sculpting. He was doing work that would’ve taken me weeks, and I was doing work that he would have to rely on time to accomplish for him.

By the end of the first day, the den was mostly done. It wasn’t perfect, but it was much larger than his last home. Instead of his back scraping the roof, he would have to stand on his hind legs to brush it with his head. I’m serious when I said it was big!

We moved my stuff to the new den. I kind of just slung it in the corner, and plopped down. Hiransh shuffled around before coming to sit beside me. When I turned to look at what he did, I saw that my backpack and all the other things that I was carrying were neatly reorganized.

He and I are more different than two creatures could be. He’s in his comfort zone up here; that much is obvious. I’m not… but that has been made quite clear by recent events, right? He’s also meticulously neat for an animal. He rarely has a scale out of place, where, here I am, sometimes not able to remember which way is left and which way is right.

But, we do make quite a pair.

So, after that day, he let me ride him. Yeah, you heard that right. I rode this snow creature. It was terrifying, and he didn’t go faster than a trot, but it was incredible. I was so high up, and I felt almost connected to him through the roll of his muscles. I never stopped squeezing my arms around his neck for dear life, though.

He showed me how he hunted. It’s something that I’ve been wondering about. Surely a creature of his stature couldn’t survive on berries alone. He demonstrated with a tiny branch that has already been stripped of its blackberries. So, he buries himself quickly underneath the snow and, if needed, into the dirt. Then, he covers himself with the snow and waits for something to walk over him. When it does, he bursts out of the snow and catches the creature in his jaws.

Let me tell you, seeing this massive snow lizard erupt out of the snow just to “kill” a twig the length of my forearm is actually the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.

We watched the sunset together, again. This time, I didn’t stare at him, though. I just looked ahead.

Yesterday, we just hung out in the snow. He and I dug random snow pits. Of course, his were always bigger. But mine were more elaborate, if I do say so myself. I love the idea of some random climber stumbling upon them and thinking that there are aliens on Everest making weird snow shrines. Hehe, but still not as funny as Hiransh killing a stick.

Today, he took me to where he finds his berries. It’s actually not that far down the mountain, surprisingly. If the gigantic claw marks in the wall have anything to say, I think that he actually planted it himself.

He has dug out a wide pit for the berries, down to the rock of the mountain, and filled the hole with soil. On top of the soil, he put dark black rocks, which is something I never would’ve thought of in a million years. It’s genius that he’s using colors to keep the berries warm. He lays thin layers of snow on top of the rocks, which melt and water the plants. Everything he does just makes me think that he’s that much smarter than I thought before.

I also sketched more pictures of him. I’m always learning something new about him. It seems that there is no end to his secrets. If only I had access to better lab equipment, I might be able to run some actual tests…

Well, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, I’m tired. Tomorrow, we’re planning on some more snow fun! Maybe I can teach him how to make a snowman. Doubtful, with those big, clumsy claws of his, but I can try. :)

I’m back at base camp.

Only a day has passed.

I’ve never felt so hollow before.

May 13th, 2018

I think I can talk about this now. I’m sitting in a hotel room right now. Casey has finally left me alone. Tomorrow I’m leaving for the States. Goodbye, Nepal. Goodbye, Hiransh.

Let me explain what happened.

I woke up in the middle of the night. Coughing. It was so bad, I had to breathe in every five seconds, but I never had enough air. I was sick multiple times, all over myself. Hiransh woke up as well, his orange eyes snapping open instantly. I was grasping at my throat, trying to remove the empty air tank’s mask. Hiransh understood what I was trying to do and slashed off the mask with his claws. In his terrified rush, he left a deep cut on my cheek. Despite the mask being taken off, I was coughing and unable to breathe.

Finally, Hiransh seemed to come to a decision. He carefully scooped me up in his jaws. Strangely enough, the only teeth that he has are outside of his mouth, so instead of being impaled the moment he picked me up, I was just bounced along inside.

He made it down the mountain in record time. I passed in and out of consciousness. Only the splash of snow on my face kept me from slipping away. He would bound, bound, bound, skid to a stop, kick up snow, and then bound, bound, bound again. It was jarring.

Finally, we were far enough down the mountain that I could breathe. I took in the air in gasps, planting my hands on the side of Hiransh’s face. Once he realized that it wasn’t a fit for air, he let me from his jaws. Pebbly earth met my boots.

I held Hiransh’s massive head in my hands, feeling the rough scratch of his scales against my skin. A tear slipped down his face, but this time it did not turn to ice.

“Hiransh,” I whispered. I realized he wouldn’t understand me, so I tried to sign to him that I was heartbroken.

I told him that I couldn’t breathe up there. I was never going to be able to live with him. His shoulders slumped, and his ice-blue eyelids closed over his inner fire. I’m so sorry Hiransh. He’s alone. No one will ever be able to stay with him.

I told him that I would come back. I promised that I would meet him by the berry patch in the summer. I vowed to return.

I will return.

Hiransh, please do not give up.

2 Feb. ‘81

This took hours to find. My old bones made it such a pain, too. But, I have to, before I fade away.

Since I suppose that this journal will be given away, I must explain a few things. Like what happened with the rest of my life.

Well, I just kept living it. People discovered me where Hiransh had left me. I was stumbling down the mountain, crying and without a backpack, my phone, or anything really. All I had was the journal that was in my hands when I fell asleep. Luckily, the winds blew snow over Hiransh’s tracks. He was never discovered.

Of course, people were curious. I managed to hide the journal in time, but the press bothered me for days afterwards, when all I wanted to do was mourn the loss of a friend.

Casey and Jasmine were both alive. Jasmine had severe frostbite on her ears, and on three of her left fingers. Her pinkie had to be amputated. But, otherwise, they were miraculously unharmed. Our reunion was tearful. I don’t remember much but a blur. It seems as if all of my memories are like that nowadays.

I continued with my job when I got home and never told anyone about Hiransh. I hid the journal--I knew I should’ve burned it, but I feared that, if I did, I would lose my memories of Hiransh, convince myself that they were just a dream. So, I held onto it, quietly.

I went to therapy, obviously. Eventually, I stopped having panic attacks and got over my chronic sadness. I was able to stop when I was 35, 12 years after the incident. I was never the same, though. Never as excitable, never as fun-loving, never as... naive.

I never forgot Hiransh, like I had feared I would. The place he scratched me when trying to save my life has turned into a scar. I think of him almost every day, wondering how he is doing alone. It breaks my heart to have the terrible knowledge of him, alone on the mountain. Unless someone out there discovered him and is as good at keeping a secret as I am, I doubt he’s been found.

Casey and I married when we were 38. I know, a little later than most, but we wanted to be ready. We adopted a Nepali girl, four years old. We named her Lily. We had our first grandchild when we were 68. A boy named Thomas.

And then there’s you, sweet child. You were always my favorite grandkid (don’t tell your brother that). You loved my work so much. And so I will pass it onto you.

I have spent a lifetime tracking down the berry patch that Hiransh showed me all of those years ago. I have attached the coordinates, as accurate as I could make them, to this journal. You may choose not to believe me, but I implore you, please, please, please, travel to Everest, visit the berry patch, and you will find that I am telling the truth. Grandma Mallory was never one for dementia, right? Don’t be stupid, either. Tell people you are going, but don’t bring them with you. Take a guide, but leave them before the summit. Don’t tell anyone about him, even if you choose to not believe me. Go during summer, in April. He will be waiting.

I know he will.

I love you. Remember me when I’m gone.

Mallory Woodruff.

*wipes sweat off of forehead*

Finally done! If I ever want to revisit this story, it would be quite fun to write about Mallory’s grandkid, and maybe about her grandkid, and so on and so forth. Maybe it would gradually be integrated into the Woodruff family, a treasured family secret, perhaps? But, that’s a story for another time. :) Thanks for reading!

- L.E. Silva

#everest #short story #writing #writers on tumblr #adventure #SSSChallenge

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