#for this??? the ease of smth happening to me? hell even by the car? and when I told dad about it was like pikachu surprise bc wait really?

[bahrmp3]

so we went to visit grandma and as always dad gets lost driving to the right lot, finally we get to the guy and he tells us the direction so dad parks

I go to grab smth from the car and when I return dad and joe have left me behind

#it's a cemetery but think it's all small buildings with street in between and it's generally not safe to be walking alone #doubled when you present as a woman tbh what pissed me off is joe told dad to wait for me but then went with dad anyway like fuck them both #for this??? the ease of smth happening to me? hell even by the car? and when I told dad about it was like pikachu surprise bc wait really? #personal

[yannadere]

daryl dixon, shane walsh and glenn rhee (separate) reacting to their s/o getting bit

cw: loss, depression, unhealthy coping, suicide, angst, hurt/comfort

Daryl Dixon:

you're scared to tell him

he's lost so much even before the apocalypse, you don't want to hurt him

trying to distance yourself from daryl doesn't work at all

he just gets worried, which comes across as him being angry, and he clings to you

poor bby has abandonment issues

it's a few days after you get bit when you finally tell him, you already feel your health deteriorating but you hold up for him

you tell him when he's getting ready to settle for the night

bc evenings with you are when he's the most calm

"hey, daryl?" you mumble, and he hums softly, eyes still closed. "hey, look at me. i have to tell you something." you sigh, nudging his arm with your uninjured hand. "what?" he groans, finally looking at you. "i.. my hand isn't just cut, daryl..." you sigh, unraveling the bandages. "what'dya mean?" daryl's brows furrow, eyes falling onto the bandages as they fall.

his blood goes cold, and he sits up suddenly and grabs your wrist to observe the nasty bite on the side of your hand, between your thumb and forefinger. "damn it, why didn't you tell me?!" he snaps, stopping to take a breath as you flinch back slightly. "c'mere..." he sighs, pulling you into a tight hug. "i'm so sorry..." you whisper clutching his shirt tightly. "sh, it's okay... i... when you go, i'll be here."

"daryl... you shouldn't have to do that..." you close your eyes, tears slowly falling. "nah. it's fine. i... i wanna do it. i don't trust anyone else to. not even you." he holds you tighter, kissing your neck gently.

"i'm so sorry, daryl... i was being stupid, i-" he silences you, moving away and pressing his forehead against yours. "don't blame yourself. i knew something like this would happen eventually... i put merle down, had a feeling either of us would go next." he gently cups your face with his hands, wiping your cheeks and nuzzling his nose against yours affectionately.

"i don't want to put you through this, daryl." you cry, going to leave when he pulls you back. "don't leave... please don't leave..." daryl begs, pulling you back to him and letting your body fall limp against his. you let out a small sob, wrapping your arms around his middle as your head rests on his shoulder, tears dampening his shirt.

"it'll be okay. i'll take care of it. for now, get some rest. i'll be here when you wake up." he kisses your cheek, waiting for you to calm down. you sniffle, holding him tightly. "i'm so sorry..!" you repeat the words over and over, and he closes his eyes, trying not to cry himself.

"shh... please... don't be sorry." his voice wavers and he hates it. "just sleep, darlin'... i'm right here." you whimper before falling quiet, resting your hand on his jaw and nuzzling into his neck. "i love you, okay..? i didn't want it to be this way." you breathe out, letting him lean onto you slightly. "i know. i know. just sleep for me, darling." he sniffles, cradling you close as you fall asleep slowly, knowing it would be the last time.

you fall asleep in his arms, but he can't bring himself to harm you

so, he tells rick, who's also upset upon the news

however his best friend's distress makes it even worse

so, rick does it for him as the others try to comfort daryl

after your death, he becomes reckless and depressed, not eating or drinking at all and becoming skinny and malnourished

he shoots openly at walkers, and when his ammo's out he takes out his anger on other walkers in other ways

whether it's stabbing them, bludgeoning them, or just hitting their bodies after they fall.

rick decides to put him under close watch to ensure he doesn't harm himself

but daryl's rather experienced in sneaking out/away, and he visits your grave often

unfortunately one morning, rick finds him at your grave with a bullet in his head

he's buried next to you, as rick knows it's what daryl craved

to be with you again.

Shane Walsh:

you got bit on the way back from gathering medical supplies for carl

and with shane you knew there was no way he would take well at any time of the day

so you decide to rip the bandaid off and talk to him an hour after your own little grieving session.

you approach him when he's talking to the small group, asking him for a private talk, saying it's important

so, of course, he's worried, as are the group

you take him behind the barn and hug him

he's genuinely confused as to why you're acting like this

deadass asks you if you're expecting or smth

you hate to break his heart

"so why did you bring me back here?" shane asks, crossing his arms and cocking a hip. "shane... i'm sorry." you sigh, pulling the collar of your shirt to reveal the bloody bite on your shoulder.

he's speechless, blinking a few times before almost collapsing. you yelp, catching your boyfriend quickly, but fall under his weight. on the floor behind the barn, shane closes his eyes, crying as he holds you tight. "shane... don't cry. it's okay..." you try your best to smile, cupping his face and wiping his tears.

"this isn't okay..! baby, you're not okay!" he sobs, cupping the back of your head and pulling you closer. "shane- baby, stop crying... it's okay." you sniffle, smiling through your own tears as you kiss his jaw lovingly

shane tries to gather himself, but his whole world feels like it's collapsing. "shh, shh... c'mon, let's get you some water." you grab his hands, trying to pull him up. slowly easing him onto his feet, you help shane back to the house. rick spots you two immediately, stumbling to help you both. "shane-?"

"rick..!" shane is clearly distraught, and his best friend latches onto him quickly to try and calm him down. "shshsh- hey, look at me." rick soothes, and you stand back slightly, trying to calm your nerves. "what happened?" rick demands, eyes steeling as he stares at you. "rick- it's not-" you try to explain what happened, when shane answers for you. "they got bit! my baby got bit..!" shane sobs, knees feeling weak as he almost collapses again.

rick processes the information, looking at you in shock. lori overhears, muttering a fast "oh my god..!" as she approaches the three of you. "how did this happen?!" rick asks, trying to support shane fully. "i was in a rush, i got grabbed and..." you trail off, moving over to comfort shane who can't calm down at all.

"he needs to sit down..." you say softly, glancing at hershel who was observing from his porch. "come, sit him down inside. i'll get him some water." hershel guides you and you help shane in with the aid of rick. flopping down onto a couch, shane can't seem to catch his breath, so you crouch in front of him to cup his face, whispering comforting words to him. "baby... i'm so sorry, it should of been me..!" shane cries, and you hush him quickly. "don't you dare say that, shane walsh." you scold, pulling him into a tight hug.

"never blame yourself for my death. i wouldn't rest easy if you did." you sigh, smoothing his hair and kissing his temple. rick stands anxiously nearby, and you sense his worry. "sit, rick. relax... i've got this." you nod at him, and he nods stiffly, taking a seat of his own when lori pipes up. "when do you think you'll turn?" she asks, and you freeze. "lori-!" "i'm just thinking ahead, rick!"

shane becomes more distraught by her words, clinging onto you tightly. "shh, it's okay... i'm here, bubs." you sigh, cradling him impossibly closer. "the hell's goin' on?" maggie asks, confused as ever. "not now, please..." rick sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "right..." she mumbles, leaving as hershel comes back with some water. "here, drink some of this, son." he nods, giving the glass to you so shane could take it.

after taking a few sips, shane goes back to codding you, slowly winding down. "there you go, just breathe." you smile, kissing him gently. "i'm sorry i couldn't protect you..!" shane hiccups, nuzzling your neck. "shh. don't say that..!" you sigh, holding him tighter. your boyfriend whines softly, and rick closes his eyes with a pained sigh.

you last a few more days before turning, spending your time slowly becoming more sick with shane next to you all the while.

when you turn, shane is devastated, holding your head as you stare up at him with discoloured eyes

he ignores how you try to bite him after a few minutes of your brain losing all memory of him, and his tears drip down onto your face

rick walks in, and sighs. he knew it would happen eventually... everyone did.

shane holds you for a few minutes. you were slowly gaining strength but he was always stronger.

the room is silent except for you little noises, and shane finally accepts this fate when rick puts a hand on his shoulder.

"let me do it..." his best friend gruffly says, and shane shakes his head. "leave 'em be, rick... just for a little while longer..." shane begs, and rick sighs, looking away briefly.

"you know i can't do that. if you or anyone get bit-" "rick, i am asking you nicely. leave."

he spends a few days with you in walker form, and it scares everyone. lori tries to convince him that you're not there anymore, a hollow vessel of what you once were but he wont buy it.

he loves you too much to believe anything like that, or hurt you. to him, you're still his darling, his everything who held him when times got tough.

you scratch at his arms, not even breaking skin due to your blunt nails, and he doesn't mind.

finally, with a few kisses around your pale, sunken face, and a final kiss to your lips that he forced closed- shane raises his gun.

he hesitates, letting you get the jump on him, but he grabs your jaw before you can do anything

the sudden commotion makes rick fly in, only to see you lifeless once more in shane's arms.

Glenn Rhee:

unlike the other two, he watches you get bit.

he's completely distraught as the rest of the group fight off the walkers whilst he makes his way to you

he rams the zombie with all his strength, knocking it down before shooting it

you've collapsed, sat back against the car door as blood seeps from your cheek, whimpering in pain and holding the gash with your blood-soaked hands.

he's crying before he knows it, dropping down next to you and carefully covering your cheek with his shaky hands.

he tries to reassure you, and himself, that you'll be fine and won't get infected,

but the sad look in your eyes confirm that you're not making it to the date he wanted to take you on tomorrow

as you slowly bleed out, he tries to tell you stories, to keep himself calm as you slowly die.

"hey, remember when..?" you're not paying attention, just admiring him as you move your hands to cup his face.

"i love you.." you croak with a small smile, and he smiles sadly, sobbing all the while.

the others have to watch, all waiting for the inevitable

"please don't leave me... please, i need you." glenn pleads, and you smile sadly.

he's pressing kisses to your forehead as you hold him close, your blood staining his hands, arms and shirt

"baby...?" glenn mumbles softly, sitting with you leant against him. "i'm still here, darling..." you whisper, gripping his shirt tightly. "i'm gonna miss you..." glenn sniffles, kissing the top of your head gently. "me too. i'll always be with you, okay. when i go, i don't want you to be sad. i want you to keep going, to find happiness again, even if it means finding love in another. i want the best for you." you smile, despite the ache in your cheek.

glenn breathes out as his eyes close, his tears still falling. "i could never replace you like that..." he whimpers, fingers curling into your hair as he holds you closer. "baby, don't cry... don't cry, because i'll cry." you try to laugh, and glenn laughs too, gently rubbing your uninjured cheek.

"glenn, we've got to, y'know..." rosita sighs, but glenn shakes his head. "no! we don't kill the living..!" glenn protests, his hold turning protective. "right, right... okay." she fakes surrender, walking away.

when you pass, glenn just knows. he doesn't even look at you. he can't bring himself to.

however, when you turn, he doesn't even bother to restrain you, just holding you close as you bite into his neck.

abraham shouts in alarm, shooting you instantly, and glenn cries as you fall, cupping your face and leaning down to press his forehead against you.

the group is distraught, but glenn just lets everything happen, telling them to leave him be, move on.

abraham gives him a spare pistol, and glenn takes it with a nod.

the group leaves, and glenn knows what he has to do. so, he opens the car door, slipping you into the car easily

he gets in himself, closing the door so walkers wouldn't chew on you or him.

alas, glenn admires the gun before pressing it to his chin.

#tw su*cide #cw angst #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd rick #twd shane #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh #glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee #twd glenn #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader

[summerbummin]

Headcanons about Apollo and his former lovers from TOA

Naomi Solace 🎤

-Her and Apollo met when she was singing at a dive bar, he bought her a drink and they had a whirlwind summer fling

-They loved hitting up karaoke bars together and wowing everyone with their singing talent

-She really liked Apollo’s car and they’d did a lot of things in there (including conceiving Will lmao)

-One time when they were making out Naomi climbed into Apollo’s seat and her butt accidentally hit the steering wheel and HOOONK

-They jolted in surprise, then delved into hysterics, anything they had going on dying down as they laid their heads against each other’s shoulders and laughed so hard their ribs hurt, until Apollo suggested they used the back seat and things got going again lol

-Once Naomi said Jesus Christ in like response to smth, Apollo replied actually I’m Phoebus Apollo and Naomi was like what? And Apollo was like whaaaaat and Naomi just moved on bc she had other things to deal with lol

-Apollo ended up saying goodbye and leaving at the end of summer and a few weeks after he left Naomi realized she was pregnant and was like well shit

-She’s from the south and people there can be p judgmental about pregnancies outside of marriage, but Naomi never let them get her down, she actually met this great support group of women who helped her out and are still good friends even now

-Apollo eased her labor pains when she was giving birth to Will (and that’s why the kid has such good medical powers), but Apollo disguised himself as a nurse, not wanting to stress her out because the ex who she thought had no idea abt the baby was here, with her, holding her hand while she was gave birth

-Naomi brings Will up with love and kindness and she just wants the best for her sweet boy, but she gets concerned when Will talks about some weird things he saw at school and he gets pegged as the “weird kid” and is picked on by his classmates as a result

-Naomi would’ve fought those kids but Will told her it was fine, mama! His stuffed animals were his friends

-Will loved those stuffed animals and got really attached to them, so Naomi taught him how to sow them up when they started fraying and that’s the first thing that made Will want to be a doctor (when Will told his siblings this story they started calling him Doc McStuffins lol)

-Apollo didn’t tell Naomi he was a god and she didn’t find out until Apollo sent a satyr to bring Will to camp once he was old enough

-Realizing she had a fling with a greek god was a bit of a shock but Naomi dealt with it gracefully and gave Will the biggest hug before he left, making him promise to be safe and write to her as soon as he got to camp

-Naomi’s career as a country alt singer got a lot more successful after her whole thing with Apollo because he put a blessing on her, her voice was beautiful she just needed help getting noticed so Apollo nudged some influential people in the music industry towards her on his way out (he kinda felt bad about leaving so abruptly, even if it was just a fling, he tries to make it up to his ex-lovers with things like this)

-Naomi actually ends up writing a sad country love song about Apollo after he left, she titled it Suburn, not knowing how fitting the title is until years later, it becomes one of her most popular songs

-Naomi travels a lot for her career, touring around Texas and some nearby states, and that’s why Will stays at camp year round, but they write to each other frequently and love each other sm

-Naomi doesn’t date much since she’s always busy with her career and traveling, she’s just not ready to settle down yet, she’s happy living as a free spirit and a single mom with a wonderful son

-Naomi is 100% supportive of Will’s sexuality and loves Nico to bits (Nico is a little awkward around her at first bc he’s not used to affection lol)

-She tells Nico stories abt Will when he was a kid, whipping out photo albums and everything and Will is like mom s t a h p ur embarrassing me in front of my bf and Nico is reveling in how red his face gets

Latricia Lake 🎶

-she met Apollo when he was posing as a street performer for fun on the streets of the college town she worked in

-she put a tip in his guitar case and complimented his playing and his voice, Apollo was pleased by this and complimented her in turn, saying she must know her music which made Latricia laugh because she is a professor

-the two of them hit it off and start dating, spending hours talking about music

-being the god of music, Apollo could tell when people really loved music, feeling loved in return, and Latricia was one of those people

-being a college professor, Latricia was a bit older than Apollo’s usual lovers (she’s like in her mid to late 20s) and Apollo looks like 21, so he jokingly starts calling her a cougar just to tease her (when he’s so full of shit bc he’s over 3 thousand years older than her)

-Apollo attended some of her lectures, watching from the back of the room and her students were like ooh who’s that hot guy and she was like my bf and their jaws dropped bc daaamn ms lake way to go (Apollo found those reactions very amusing lol)

-There are many times when Latricia considers smacking that smug smirk off Apollo’s face, but she refrains and smacks his ass instead

-Apollo claims Latricia only loves him for his pancakes bc he made them for her the morning after their first time as a way to get her to keep him around lol (and it worked a little too well)

-When Latricia got pregnant Apollo told her who/what he really was and that was a bit too much for Latricia so they stopped dating but Apollo gave her the briefing about demigod children, powers, monsters, camp half blood, etc before he left

-One day when her sitter had to cancel on her she brought Austin to her class and all the college kids thought he was so cute that Latricia started bringing him around more often, Austin was just a baby but she could tell he loved the attention by the way he was gurgling lol (like father like son)

-Latricia is p busy since she’s a professor but she always makes time for her son and she has been teaching Austin about music since he was a kid, he grew up surrounded by it and that’s why he loves it sm (that and being a son of Apollo)

-On his 10th birthday there was a really nice new saxophone with a ribbon at the foot of his bed (a gift from Apollo) Austin always thought his mom bought it for him and Latricia just didn’t correct him

-Latricia sent Austin to camp half blood when he told her he saw a monster at school, he was only 11 but Latricia would rather be safe then sorry

-Latricia actually met someone while Austin was at his first year of camp, Austin was a little unsure around the guy at first but more out of awkwardness than anything the guy was lacking

-Austin and him bonded over “being boys” as Latricia put it (they blew up hot dogs in the microwave together) and the man soon had her son’s stamp of approval

-They ended up getting married the next year and Austin played the saxophone at their wedding

-Latricia was the first subscriber to his YouTube channel and showed all her coworkers and students her son’s videos, she’s a proud mama

Darren Knowles 🏹

-gay (obviously)

-he loves the outdoors and the crisp cold weather of Canada

-met Apollo when he saw him checking out the flier he had pinned up advertising his archery classes, Darren asked if he was gonna join and Apollo not so subtly checked Darren out over his sunglasses and was like well now I’m def joining

-Darren lowkey thought Apollo was a dumb American tourist at first and Apollo keeps telling him he’s not American and Darren is like uh huh

-Apollo is such a flirt during class and actually misses a few shots bc he too busy staring at Darren lol, but that does give the opportunity for Darren to come and “correct” his stance

-Darren is determined to be a professional with his students but he ends up caving because Apollo is just,, so cute

-Then when they start going on actual dates he finds out Apollo isn’t some dumb blond and is actually really intelligent and educated and Darren is like oh no my weakness, guys who are goofs but not dumb and also hot (Apollo be checking all of his boxes lol)

-Apollo told Darren he was a god while drunk off his ass one night and Darren didn’t believe a fucking word, Apollo just rolled with the drunken nonsense thing the next morning and didn’t tell Darren again (until Kayla)

-Darren lives alone but he’s always wanted a family, he was kicked out by his parents for being gay and he knows if he was a parent he would never treat his child like that, he’d love them unconditionally like his parents should’ve loved him

-Apollo magically created a child for Darren after the man confessed to him how much he wanted a kid of his own

-Darren was happy but like really confused because h... how? And Apollo is just like magic~ which explains fuck all

-Apollo tells him he has to leave now, he was having to leave soon anyway because of some trouble brewing back in America, but that he wanted to do this one last thing for Darren before he left

-he tells him to have take care raising the baby and to send her to cbh’s address when she starts attracting monsters, then poofs away, leaving Darren with a baby in his arms and wondering what the hell just happened

-Darren does raise Kayla with love and care just as he said he would, she grows up hiking through the woods with her dad and learning archery along with other wilderness skills (Artemis would really like her)

-Kayla has her aspirations for the Olympics pretty early on and Darren admires his daughter’s ambition, at first he thinks it’s just her being a kid but then later on as she keeps getting better and better he’s like damn she might actually be able to do it

-But then ofc monsters come and Darren drives her down to New York, lying through his teeth to the border guy who surprisingly lets him through without a problem (Apollo may have insured that but shhh)

-Darren sees her off at the barrier of Thalia’s pine tree and they say goodbye with a hug that lifts Kayla off her feet, there’s promises to write and reminders to practice her archery and take care of her bow and such before Kayla is escorted into camp by some other campers

-Darren managed to keep a hold of himself while saying goodbye but as soon as he’s back in the car he’s fucking bawling, all the way back to Canada because he’s gonna miss his little girl sm

-Darren has had some boyfriends but a lot of them end up jetting as soon as he tells them he has a kid ripp

-He does eventually land a good man and they’re going strong, even when Kayla, who was like 10 at the time, threatened to shoot him in the nads if he hurt her dad

-Darren and shows up to every archery match Kayla has in the future and promises to be there cheering for her with a big ass sign that says THATS MY DAUGHTER when she eventually reaches the Olympics

Bonus!

Georgina’s Mom 🎨

-She was an art student in community college

-She was on her own because her parents refused to support her “unrealistic” career choice

-She met Apollo at a party at some college dorm and they both got super smashed bc college parties be like that

-They had a one night stand that both of them mostly forgot about in favor of their hangovers the next morning

-until Hello!! You have a kid!

-She is most likely dead given that Georgina was led to the waystation by a ghost

-But Georgina has two new mommies now who love her very much (and an awkward dad)

#naomi solace #latricia lake #darren knowles #trials of apollo #toa #pjo #apollo #apollo pjo #will solace #austin lake #kayla knowles #georgina #georgina pjo #headcanons

[writingtoforgetreality]

I Remember (Malcolm Bright x Reader)

Request: uM hi saw ur request post while i was scrolling through malcolm bright x reader tag lol so may i request an x reader w malcolm where reader's gil's niece or smth so she and mal know each other before he joined the team- and one day where mal was being a dumbass and reader was told to drive mal home and when she was securing his restraints he jokingly asked her to sing to him aNd she did sing and fell asleep on the bed by opposite mal aND he got a good amount of sleep like no night terrors and next day he accidentally slipped that reader ''slept'' w him and gils just like excuse me wtf?? Djkdkdlsjsjs idk i got this idea when i was staring at the ceiling at 4 am instead of doing my essays that were due in the morningxD sorry its p long. Thanks and have a good day/night (by @iwillboilyourteeth), [Prodigal Son-Masterlist]

Summary: Malcolm got hurt again. What a surprise. And, as always, you were right there to take care of him. Tonight, though, things took a turn. For the better or for the worse? Only the future would tell.

Words: 2,142

Warnings: language, love me some sarcasm, fluff, so much fluff, I love writing for Prodigal Son (keep the requests coming)

Song used: “I Remember” by Jason Manns

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were sitting in your apartment when your phone started ringing loudly, interrupting your movie marathon. Sighing exaggeratedly, you checked who decided to annoy you at this time. It was not too late but you liked your alone time a lot. Gil. Oh no. That could never be good.

“Uncle Gil. I hope whatever you’re about to tell me is more important than Harry Potter.” pausing the movie you were currently watching, you did not even give him enough time to greet you. A loud sigh could be heard over the phone. One, that made you laugh.

“(Y/N).” his voice was stern & you knew better than to mess with him. Yet, you could not help yourself.

“Yeah, that’s me. You called me, after all.” joking to ease the tension, your giggling was cut short by his next words.

“Malcolm is a dumbass.”

“What a revelation.”

“He’s hurt.” Gil stated. Throwing your head back in frustration, you knew he only called you if he knew it was not too bad. But bad enough to need your help. “I need you to come get him.” it was not even a question, more like an order. Immediately, you grabbed the stuff you needed & headed out of your apartment towards your car.

“Can I yell at him for being reckless?” opening the door, you got inside but before you started the engine, you waited for the call to end. Could not risk getting youself hurt. Malcolm was the stupid one, not you.

“I already did that but I’m sure he’ll appreciate to hear it again.”

“Good.”

“Drive safe.” Gil noted.

“See you in ten.” & with that you drove to the precinct where he would most likely wait for you.

Growing up, you spent a lot of time at Gil’s. Malcolm was there almost always, so you got to meet each other pretty early on. Deep down, you cared for him. More than you should care for a friend. And because of him being a profiler, you were sure he picked up on that as well. Malcolm was just nice enough to not comment on it. Besides, he would tell you that he was too broken anyway. The thing was that it never scared you away. It did the exact opposite, actually. It only made you want him more.

Did you ignore almost every speed limit? Possibly. Your knuckles were white because you had gripped the steering wheel so tightly. One of these days, you would kill Malcolm. He kept getting himself hurt & you were tired of being the one to drive him home afterwards. Of course, you knew Gil only called you because Malcolm trusted you enough but that did not change the fact that you were exhausted.

“What happened?” approaching Gil, your eyes looked around for a sign of Malcolm. “And where the hell is he?”

“Bathroom.” his finger pointed over. “He didn’t call backup & thought dealing with it alone would turn out fine.” Gil was, you could tell, almost as tired as you. Not only of Malcolm acting recklessly but also because of a long day at work.

“What a surprise.” your sarcasm got the best of you. But it helped you coping with your feelings sometimes. “Uncle Gil?” his head snapped up when you said his name.

“Yes?”

“Go home & get some sleep. I got it from here, promise.” your sweet smile was convincing enough & with a nod, he turned around & walked away.

“(Y/N)?” Malcolm noticed you when he walked out of the bathroom. His face was covered in bruised & by the way he was limping, you were sure that his entire body had to be sore. “Where’s Gil?”

“I sent him home.” shrugging as if it were nothing, you gave Malcolm a look. He knew what it meant but apparently, he wanted to play dumb.

“What?” his head tilted slightly & if it were not for his damn puppy eyes & for the fact that he was hurt, you would be the cause of his bruises. Not quite literally but still. Rolling your eyes at him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’re stupid, I hope you know that.”

“I do, but we caught the killer, so it was worth it.” he casually stated.

“Is it really worth risking your life, Mal?” shaking your head shortly, you were not in the mood to discuss this any further. A simple gesture of your hand was enough to show him that you wanted to get going. “Come on, I’m gonna bring you home.”

“You’re mad.” Malcolm noted when the both of you walked outside back to your car. Sighing loudly, you stopped for a brief moment.

“Yes. I’m mad because I can’t even count how many times we’ve been in this exact situation anymore. And it sucks. Because every single time Gil calls me, I think he’ll tell me that you didn’t make it out like you always do.” Malcolm’s eyes widened when you explained how you were feeling. Your body brushing past his made him turn around & follow you without another word. It was silent between you two until you arrived inside Malcolm’s apartment.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” he spoke up, his voice much softer now. When you saw him struggling to pull off his coat, you walked over to him to help him out.

“You don’t owe me an apology, Mal.” your back faced him when you went to put his jacket away.

“I do. You always take care of me when shit like that happens. And I wanted you to know that I don’t take that for granted. If I were you, I would’ve stopped caring a long time ago.”

“You know as much as I do that this won’t ever happen.” & it was true. Malcolm could mess up over & over again. Could get himself hurt & all that. But you would always be here to catch him, no matter what.

“I don’t deserve you.” his eyes bore into yours & by the look he gave you, you knew he was not talking about you taking care of him when he was hurt. He was referring to you as a person. Basically, he wanted to make you understand that he was not worthy of your love. Which was bullshit to you.

“You deserve so much & it hurts that you don’t see it.” the conversation dropped for the time being. Navigating your way through his apartment, you looked for something he could wear to bed. Soon enough, you found something suitable & when you walked back into the room ,you found Malcolm already sitting on his bed, head hanging low. He stopped you when he noticed your hands grabbing the shirt he was wearing. Sending him a confused look, your eyebrows raised in question.

“I think I can handle it from here on.” taking the clothes from you, he went to strip himself out of his workwear. Surprisingly, he could not move his body enough to achieve anything.

“Yeah, I can see that. Come on, don’t act like that, Malcolm.” it was not the first time you had helped him undressing. As mentioned earlier, the two of you had been in this situation too many times to count.

It did not take long & he was wearing comfortable clothes. After asking if he needed anything else, you went straight to his restraints & helped strapping him in. It amazed Malcolm how you were not weirded out by the fact that he had to be held down in order to have at least a few hours of sleep.

“(Y/N)?” his voice was barely above a whisper but your humming let him know that you heard him. “Can you sing something for me?” it was meant to be a joke, he simply wanted to ease the tension between you guys. Thinking about it for a second, you came to the conclusion that it would not hurt to do that. Maybe it would help him fall asleep? Malcolm eyes widened when you actually started singing quietly. It was soothing & he closed his eyes to focus solely on your voice.

Hey you, when I saw you walk in there

And I couldn’t help but stare

At the way you move your hands

‘Cause it’s the little things you do that drive me crazy

And now, let’s forget about the crowd

And just concentrate on us

So that you can know what I want you to know

 I remember how it started

You had everything I wanted

I was helpless to resist

But I didn’t want to

 Only if you would hold me tight

As we talked all through the night

About those things you won’t tell no one else

I know that we’ve got long ways to go

But I want you to know

That I’ll be there till the end, so don’t you worry

 I remember how it started

You had everything I wanted

I was helpless to resist

But I didn’t want to

‘Cause I fell in love with you-ou-ou

 After you finished, Malcolm still had his eyes closed, he just laid there for a while, recalling the words of the song. He knew what you were trying to tell him but if he had to be honest, he was scared. If the two of you were to try something, he thought you would leave him the moment you realized his demons were too much for someone to handle. Malcolm did not hear you leave his apartment, neither did he feel a movement. Opening his eyes slowly, he found you sound asleep right next to him. Your peaceful form made him smile brightly. Contemplating if he should wake you up, he decided against it in the end. Deep down, he knew you would not judge him he if he had a night terror next to you. And if he were honest, having you with him made him incredibly calm. That night, he fell asleep almost immediately, without any nightmares invading his dreams. The reason for it was you. Only you.

Malcolm woke up early the next morning. Work called. Okay, maybe Gild had told him to take a few days off but everyone who knew Malcolm, knew that he did not listen to such orders. Or any orders, in general. You were still asleep when he loosened his restraints. He left you a note behind before leaving his apartment for work.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay at home?” Gil questioned the second Malcolm entered the office where the rest of the team was already up & working.

“You did but I’m fine.” Gil rolled his eyes at his words. Usually, whenever Malcolm insisted on being fine, he was everything but. Examining his face closer, Gil was shocked to see him so…well rested?

“Wait. How much did you sleep last night? You look unusually awake.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s because I slept with (Y/N) last night.” Malcolm spoke casually & went to examine the pictures that were displayed on the table in the middle of the room. Gil’s eyebrows raised at that. Dani only sent him a weird look & JT almost choked on his coffee at Malcolm’s confession. There were some things he did not want to know & his love life was one of it.

“Excuse me, what now?” Gil was the first one to press the topic further. Everyone knew how protective he could get when it came to you, his niece. When Malcolm turned around, he found three pairs of eyes looking sternly at him. Wait, what did he say? Realization washed over his face & he only now noticed how wrong his words sounded without any given context.

“No, wait…That came out wrong.” closing his eyes briefly, he prepared an explanation for his confused co-workers. “(Y/N) drove me home yesterday & she helped me with my restraints & all. She fell asleep & I didn’t wanna wake her up.” Malcolm’s hands gestured wildly, not wanting to give them the wrong impression of last night’s events. JT pretended to understand what he explained even though he had no idea & frankly, he did not care too much. Malcolm had lost Dani’s interest a while ago, she continued working on the next case. Only Gil was left. He gave Malcolm a knowing look, went over to him & patted him on the shoulder.

“You better take care of her, Bright. Or you have to deal with me.” his threatening smile creeped Malcolm out but he knew Gil was only trying to keep you safe. Maybe you were the right one for him. Last night was proof enough. It was scary to take that next step but on the other hand, he wanted to take that risk. He wanted to give it a try. For the both of you.

Published (04/20/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @octopus5555 (thanks for your support <3)

#malcolm bright x reader #malcolm bright #malcolm whitly #malcolm whitly x reader #prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #Prodigies #prodigal son x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #jason manns #Song Fic #one shot #oneshot #writing #writers #tom payne #gil arroyo #lou diamond phillips #dani powell #aurora perrineau #brightwell #jt tarmel #frank harts

[deniigi]

i have been sick in bed with a stomach bug and re-reading a bunch of your series and these questions have plagued me so pls, for the sake of your fellow samuel chung lover, if sammy was in the Selkie verse, would he be a fae? if so, what kind? ALSO, what would his interactions with jack be like (either in the selkie verse or in the lying by omission verse)? pls and thanks <3

hi!

I’ll answer asks in a bit, but for this one I have a fic that explore a What If Jack Lived/Mike existed scenario with Sam in the Inimitable verse? I know it’s now what you asked for, but it is like 4k already written so that might be smth--an LBO Sam would be tricky because Sam would be itty bitty and Matt wouldn’t have the same kind of relationship with him.

As for selkie-verse Sam? I would have to do more research on Chinese spirts/fae/folklore, but for now, he’s not fae, just human 💖He’s like 12 and can make himself invisible though, which would be very confusing for Sue if she ever bumped into him

(Sue: baby boggart??? come here I love you I will look after you.)

(Sam: please stay exactly 5037 feet away from me! Thank you and I’m calling my mom!)

Here is the What If Jack and Mike thing from the Inimitable Verse.

Jack Murdock was the size of a house. He made Matt look dainty. He made Kirsten look like a kids’ mannequin. And he made Foggy laugh until he wept.

Sam could not understand a goddamn thing he said. Nor could he understand the guy he’d brought with him, who appeared to have had some serious plastic surgery to look exactly like Matt.

Sam could take an unintelligible giant. What he couldn’t take was an unintelligible Matt, and before him, somehow, in this ring of ginger, he’d been presented with two unintellible Matts.

His head was spinning.

Kirsten patted at him sympathetically.

“I’m from New York,” Sam told her mournfully.

“I know, hon.”

“How is this even possible? You’re from New York. How are they—what are they saying?”

Kirsten shook her head.

“Only Foggy knows,” she said. “It’s okay, he’ll translate when he gets back up.”

 --

 Mr. Murdock, the tallest of the gingers, might have been a good three to four inches taller than his boys, and he might have had the biggest hands that Sam had ever had the opportunity to touch in his life, but he was really nothing but a big, shaggy sheep dog.

The reasons Sam couldn’t understand a single fucking word he said came threefold.

1) Mr. Murdock had grown up in mid-century Hell’s Kitchen. That was just how accents from those parts used to sound. They’d lightened with time.

2) He had an extra layer of what Matt called a ‘brogue.’ He was first-generation American. Both his folks had immigrated from Ireland. He talked halfway between the way they talked and the way that the kids in his neighborhood growing up had.

And 3) The man had a lisp?

It wasn’t super noticeable. Sam sure as shit couldn’t hear it among the other layers of stuff going on, but Foggy said it was there.

Apparently, it came out more when he was anxious.

Apparently, he was anxious a lot.

Foggy told Sam to just give it an hour and he’d understand.

 --

  “So your name is Sam?” Mr. Murdock asked him while Sam tried to keep his mouth from falling open.

Matt was holding his facial-copy-cat against the wall by his lapels. The copy-cat had started making kissy noises at him. He egged Matt on to punch him right in the face.  

No one was stopping them.  

Kirsten cleared her throat and brought Sam back down to earth.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam. Mr., uh—”

“Call me Jack.”

Never.

“Matty hasn’t said much about you, sorry to say.” Mr. Murdock explained. The more he spoke directly to Sam, the more Sam found, to his relief, that he could understand him. “He don’t like sharin’ things his brother can get ahold of and take from ‘im.”

Sam looked from him to the ‘brother.’

“There’s two of them?” he asked.

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“God help us, every one,” he huffed.

You can say that again.

“How long has there been two?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“Mm? Oh, uh. Christ with the math,” Mr. Murdock said, “Michael—Michael—boy, you knock that off; that’s how you lose teeth—how old are you now?”

Nevermind. Sam didn’t need to know.

“I’m ageless, Pops, remember?” ‘Michael’ said, grinning at Matt’s sneer in his face, “Everlasting, never dying. Immortal. Timeless. I’m—” Dude got the wind knocked out his sails from Matt aiming for his solar plexus instead of his face.

“Maitiú,” Mr. Murdock said sharply. “He’s your brother.”

“He earned it,” Matt snapped back at his dad. “You said ‘no teeth,’ I ain’t even touched his goddamn teeth.”

“No, you coward, you wouldn’t, would you?” Michael threw back at Matt with no sense in his head. “You scared of gettin’ stuck on all that metal, huh?”

“I ain’t got my tetanus booster,” Matt deadpanned.

“Oh, get the yellow fever one next time, it’s a hoot—”

“I’m mailing you back to Thailand in a crate.”

“Oh mail me, why don’t you?”

“I’m gonna.”

“Boys,” Mr. Murdock said, exasperated. “Knock it off. You love each other. We get it.”

Kirsten shook with giggles.

“I’d drown you in the open ocean and then kill myself,” Matt said through gritted teeth. His nose was maybe an inch from his brother’s.

Michael just beamed.

“Aw, babe. You’d do that for me?” he gushed.

“HHhhh—”

“Maitiú.”

Sam had never heard someone said ‘Matthew’ this way. It was delightful. It made Matt’s shoulders go stiff as a board and then squirm in barely contained fury.

“Thank you,” Mr. Murdock said. “Drop ‘im.”

Matt didn’t want to, but he released his grip on his sibling. Michael slipped down and then caught himself and straightened himself out.

“Well, I’ll never,” he said. “We come all this way to visit you on your deathbed and—”

“I’m not dying,” Matt said.

“—you worry Dad sick for months on end. Don’t call. Don’t write. He thought the Californians had eaten you—"

“—I told him that it was a dislocation and I’m fine—”

“—and of course I told him, ‘no Dad, there ain’t any more cannibals in California than there are in New York’ but who listens to Mike, huh?”

Mr. Murdock had only been in the house for 15 minutes and he already looked exhausted.

“Where are the dogs?” he asked Foggy.

 ---

 This was the weirdest time-out session Sam had ever experienced and he’d decided that he was living for it. Mr. Murdock went out onto the deck and locked himself out there with the dogs. Matt and his brother had never been more guilty.

Quickly the arguing turned towards scheming, which turned towards climbing out a window, which turned towards getting stuck on the roof and pleading with the Father to lend a hand.

Mr. Murdock observed Matt sobbing with laughter over Mike’s sudden anxiety of stepping from the roof to the deck’s arm railing with only hollowness.

“Mike’s not very super,” Sam pointed out to Kirsten.

“Nope,” she said brightly. “He is refreshingly normal,” she said. “Even the conman part.”

The what?

 ---

 Matt climbed off the roof with ease and took the opportunity to finally give his old man a hug, which Mr. Murdock seemed to appreciate. He smoothed a giant mitt of a hand through Matt’s hair tenderly, like he was a baby.

It was kind of cute.

Mike scowled at them both and announced that he was pretty fine, by the way. He’d just stay there on the roof until the vultures got him.

“Matt’s the younger twin,” Foggy told Sam cheerfully. “He can do no wrong.”

Sam felt like he could suddenly see the forest for the trees.

“And Mike?” he asked.

Foggy snickered.

“He and Jack live together to keep each other in good cardiac shape,” he said. “They drive each other nuts.”

“But they still live together?” Sam clarified.

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “Mike’s what happens when you give a used-car salesman ever so slightly too much brain. He travels all over. Gets shot at and held hostage a lot. He’ll do just about anything for a couple bucks, no matter how hard Jack’s tried to get him to go straight over the years.”

“And Mr. Murdock? He doesn’t mind his son living with him?” Sam asked.

Kirsten and Foggy softened.

“Matt used to check on him more when we lived back home,” Foggy said. “Without him and Mike, Jack’s by himself. He’s got friends and work, yeah, but you know. If it weren’t for Mike, he’d come home to an empty apartment every night. Man’s got too much head trauma for that to be any kind of good. Mike looks after him—probably more than he lets anyone else. He’s too stubborn to let Matt try to help him.”

Aw, cute.

“Be prepared, Sammy,” Foggy said. “Jack’s already adopted you.”

Say what now?

 ---

 Mr. Murdock didn’t outright say that Sam was puny and he was going to fix it, but Sam could see it in his disappointed gaze.

“Don’t like bread?” he asked as Sam chewed his way through an Uncrustable at the kitchen table. Sam froze with the sandwich in hand. He stared at it.

It was bread.

Surely, this was bread.

Right?

“Uh?” he tried.

“Don’t like the crusts?” Mr. Murdock asked him more gently.

Oh.

“I don’t mind them, these are premade though. You know, convenient,” Sam explained.

He got a stare impossible to read.

“Stay there,” Mr. Murdock decided.

It took too long for Sam’s brain to work out what had just happened, and by the time it had, it was too late. Matt stuck his head in the room and asked Sam why he’d told his dad that Matt was starving him.

Sam floundered and tried to explain the sandwiches. Matt absorbed this and rolled his whole head.

“Well, now he’s makin’ a week’s worth for you,” he sighed. “Wants you to eat the crust.”

Dude.

“It’s easier not to question it,” Matt sighed. “What kind of jelly do you want?”

 ---

 Matt didn’t interrogate his father, but Mike did. Unrepentantly. He walked in as Sam was emphasizing that he didn’t want any kind of jelly and he’d make his own sandwiches and understood the entire situation faster than Sam could have possibly explained it.

“FATHER,” he roared. “Leave the boy alone, he’s not starvin’, he’s just short.”

Flattering. Thanks, asshole.

There was no response from the kitchen. Matt told Mike to ease off. Mr. Murdock was trying to be nice.

“There’s nice and then there’s rude,” Mike said.

“And you’re rude?” Matt offered.

There was a pause.

A warm hand found the space in between Sam’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry about both of ‘em, kid, they got rocks for brains, it ain’t their fault. Our grandfather was a caveman, you know how it is,” Mike said kindly.

Matt was not amused.

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeated. “I’ll eat ‘em if Sam doesn’t want ‘em.”

“And subject yourself to peanut butter hell for multiple days in a row, Maitiú?” Mike asked, scandalized.

Matt glared in the direction of the stairs.

“Some of us enjoy nut protein,” he said.

Sam blinked in shock as big hands slapped themselves over his ears.

“There are children present,” Mike hissed.

Sam found the guy’s middle fingers and yanked. Mike swore. Matt chuckled.

“He ain’t a baby,” he said fondly. “Sam’s a tough cookie.”

You’re damn right he was.

“Charming,” Mike grumbled as Matt abandoned them for the kitchen again. He scowled down at Sam. “What’s your gimmick then?” he asked.

Sam wondered if he could make his contacts come out by blinking slowly enough. It would be cool as fuck. It definitely wasn’t happening.

“I control typhoons,” he said.

Mike winced.

“Fuckin’ vigilantes,” he said.

 ---

 Mr. Murdock gave Sam a second sandwich. He’d cut it into quarters.

“Matt says you don’t like jelly,” he said. “Bananas are better?”

Sam couldn’t help but like him.

“Yeah. I don’t eat much bread generally,” he said. “My family has always been more about rice.”

Mr. Murdock analyzed him.

“I can do rice,” he said.

Bless. It was okay, really.

“Do you like spicy things, Mr. Murdock?” Sam asked.

“Jack.”

Nice try.

“Spicy?” Sam repeated.

Mr. Murdock considered it.

“Not sure,” he said. “You mean like hot sauce? I ain’t fuck with that ghost pepper shit.”

Sam hummed.

“Before you leave, I’ll cook for you in return,” he said. “I won’t make it too spicy, cross my heart.”

Mr. Murdock considered this and then got a look in his eye that made Sam’s cheeks start to ache a little.

 ---

 Matt told Sam to play nice. Matt told his father to play nice.

There was to be no hiding chilis in Mike’s pasta.

They were caught and scolded.

“Not to worry,” Mr. Murdock told Sam fondly, “There are other ways.”

 ---

 Sam had never seen such outrage over a knot in a shoelace. Matt crossed his arms over his chest, seconds away from tapping his own foot.

“You said you were ready,” he reminded Mike for the fourth time.

“I know what I said,” Mike snapped at him. He’d dug through all the kitchen drawers to procure a metal skewer to apply to this situation.

“We’re going to be late,” Matt said. “I wait for my guide, she doesn’t wait for me.”

“Well she’s waitin’ today,” Mike said. “I swear to god—”

Mr. Murdock stroked the top of Tuesday’s head and asked Mike if he’d tried putting baby powder on it. Mike spat at him to mind his own business and went back to the knot. He managed it get it untangled and the shoe half on just in time to find the second one stuck in the third hole down.

He just about vibrated with fury.

Matt sighed loudly.

“Borrow mine already,” he said.

“Never.”

“Mike.”

“They’re blue. This outfit tolerates only warm colors, Matthew. ONLY warms.”

“We’re late.”

“Style waits for no man.”

“Well, clearly that ain’t the case, is it?”

Mike stood up sharply.

“I’m going to change,” he said. “And whatever elf tied these will rue the day. Mark my words.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll tell the elf—oh, my bad, the clown, Mike. It’s you. Get your life together. We’re late.”

Hilarious.

 ---

  “Why don’t you move out here?” Sam asked Mr. Murdock as he watched Sam sand away at his latest secret project in Matt’s absence.

“Sun’ll kill me,” Mr. Murdock deadpanned.

“I thought so too, but it’s not so bad,” Sam said. “I miss the snow sometimes.”

Mr. Murdock cocked his head and then knelt down to take the sanding block out of Sam’s hands. He gestured for Sam to give him the hunk of wood in his hands, too.

“Matty says you don’t got papers,” he said.

Sam was surprised. Matt usually kept that secret locked tight. But Mr. Murdock didn’t seem to have any adverse reaction to it.

“No,” Sam admitted. “My mom brought me here when I was really little. I didn’t know what it meant to overstay a visa.”

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“Makes flying tricky,” he said.

Yeah.

“Bus, not too bad, though?”

Mm. Bus was better, yes.

“Train?”

Depended on the train.

“Hm. Well, if you get homesick or need busfare, you just give a shout, ya hear? You’re always welcome to stay with us.”

Aww.

“Or if you really hate yourself, I’m sure Mike would love to come pick you up.”

Oh god.

“He can drive?” Sam asked.

Mr. Murdock paused and held his face in his dusty palm.

“The day he got his license was the worst day of my life,” he said.

Sam snickered.

“Did you guys drive all the way here?” he asked.

“No, thank god.”

“Can you drive?”

“Son.”

Sam looked up from the block of wood into Mr. Murdock’s hazel eyes.

“I take two steps out of New York and I’m gone, that’s me dead. No, I don’t drive. Why the hell would I drive? Where the hell am I goin’?”

Wow, mood.

“I tried to drive once,” Sam said. “Reversed into a fire hydrant. Matt laughed so hard he cried.”

Mr. Murdock handed back the woodblock. It was much smoother than it had been. Sam was chocking that up to the muscles and the practice.

 ---

 Matt and Mike got home and Mike announced that he was disowning that ‘putrid being’ that was the Swamp Monster beside him. Matt told Mr. Murdock that Mike didn’t approve of the swimming part of triathlon.

Mr. Murdock picked leaves out of his hair with supreme patience.

 ---

 “So Dad’s officially decided that you’re his grandson,” Mike informed Sam out of nowhere that Sunday. “He prayed for you at church today.”

Sam almost dropped his wrench. That was so endearing his teeth hurt.

“It’s ‘cause I do woodwork,” he said. “He can smell the handyman on me.”

Mike cocked his head to the side. His eyes were blue like Matt’s. Their mom must have had blue eyes—or maybe hazel like Mr. Murdock’s.

“No,” Mike said. “It’s ‘cause he’s also been a grocery bagger, a janitor, and a contractor.”

He what now?

“He wants to know why you aren’t in college.”

Oh. well—

“Matt tried to explain, but you know, it ain’t clickin’. He don’t get the politics part of things sometimes. Gets confused why people make such a big deal when there’s obvious solutions in front of ‘em. It’s not all his fault, he barely got a highschool diploma back when ‘critical thinking’ wasn’t even a testing category. Anyways, he wants you to go to college. Thinks you’re too smart to be pushin’ paper.”

Sam was going to cry.

“I think he sees a lot of Matt in you,” Mike said with a squint. “So just as a warning, he’s unbearable. Always—well, no. More like 95% of the year. He’s alright around New Years when he’s tired. You can tell him to fuck off at any time, though.”

No, no. It was okay. It was nice to have…more family. That’s what it was.

“I hope you know what this means, Samuel,” Mike said.

Mmm no?

Mike’s hand clasped his shoulder.

“You can call me ‘uncle,’” he said.

Ah.

No, thanks.

 ---

 Foggy and Kirsten couldn’t look at Sam without bursting into merciless laughter, which Sam had realized was a result of Mike’s vocal distress at his rejected offer of uncle-dom. Sam didn’t know what to tell him.

Mr. Murdock was nice. Enormous, yes, but very well meaning and gentle. His and Sam’s priorities and experience in life aligned neatly and Sam was slightly charmed by the way that he expressed himself verbally only to Matt and Mike.

Sam also didn’t hate Mike. He just didn’t want him to have uncle privileges. He didn’t see what was difficult about this.

“Mike’s got a history of rejection,” Foggy said. “And by that, I mean that every woman on the eastern seaboard has rejected him and he tries anyways.”

 ---

 Matt came downstairs and told Sam to ignore everything Mike said to him all day. He also said that they were going out that night, so don’t burn fingers on the soldering iron.

Sam saluted in acknowledgement.

Forty minutes later there was a rap at his door followed by Mike saying through it that he wanted to show Sam something.

Sam did not open the door.

He heard Matt’s name being cursed on the other side.

 ---

 Twenty minutes later there was another knock, this time with Mike saying that Mr. Murdock wanted to bond with Sam.

Sam nudged open his curtains and squinted hard into the backyard where he could see the vague shape of Matt chatting to his dad on the deck stairs, both apparently having a beer and shooting the shit.

This was a scam.

Sam would not be scammed.

He went back to the suit.

There was more cursing outside the door.

 ---

 About half an hour later, there was a knock, followed by Mr. Murdock’s voice this time, asking Sam if his shoes were supposed to be on the front porch.

They were not.

This was playing dirty.

Sam ventured out to go right this wrong and ended up outside on the front porch with the conman himself. Mike closed the door after him triumphantly and proceeded to get them both locked out.

“Are you supposed to be a good conman or?” Sam asked.

Mike gaped at him.

“The best conman,” he said. “Don’t worry, kid, I’ve broken into a thousand houses and won two horses. I’ve got this.”

That was not comforting. Sam was not comforted.

“First, we gotta test all the windows, and, failing that, we get a rock or a gun,” Mike told him with a knowing finger.

Sam blinked at it and then up at Mike. The man’s shoulders twitched.

“Uh?” Mike said.

Ah. The eyes. No contacts today.

“Do you like them? They’re Prada,” Sam said to absolute silence.

“A brick,” Mike announced abruptly. “A brick works too. Like a rock but bigger.”

Okay, so they weren’t talking about it, gotcha. Look, a whole family’s worth of repression styles. Sam was glad that they had a full set of methods.

 ---

 Sam broke into his own bedroom through the window. Mike clapped for him outside. Sam opted to leave him there.

 ---

 He was sort of sad to see the Murdocks go, especially after seeing the effect that the most senior of them had on Matt.

Sam hadn’t seen him this chilled out. He visibly relaxed under his dad’s hand on the back of his neck. He tolerated the fussing and constant hair fixing and the fingers brushing at his cheeks and elbows. Mr. Murdock guided him with the same practiced ease that Foggy and Kirsten did, but his guiding was accompanied by a quiet, ongoing commentary about the street around them, which Sam hadn’t actually heard Foggy do in the same kind of way.

It was like Mr. Murdock was telling Matt a story everywhere they went.

He told him when there were flags hanging up a story above, waving in the wind. He told him about the hanging wire baskets of flowers that Sam forgot about. He huffed a bit while he talked about lines of traffic in the street and a vast lack of color in the group due to the absence of so many yellow cabs.

Mr. Murdock of course, had been Matt’s first ever guide. It only made sense that he had a specialized style of it, just for Matt.

And for Matt’s sake, Sam didn’t want him to go, but alas, New Yorkers, man. The city called them back to the coast like a siren.

“You take it easy, y’hear, kiddo?” Mr. Murdock told him at the airport.

Sam smiled and said that he’d try.

“Take care of yourself. I mean that. Out at night too.”

Copy that, big guy.

“Give us a hug.”

Oh??? A hug??? Sam loved hugs. Hugs were great. He was—er. Leaving this one with double the ribs from the cracks apparently.

Mr. Murdock released him to go break Matt in half and then Foggy and then Kirsten. Mike told him that he couldn’t avoid flying again by hugging people. He also warned Kirsten that he’d see her soon and that then, she was sure to fall for his charms.

Kirsten said that she would be waiting with bated breath, and then that was it. Three Murdocks again whittled down to one.

“God, I should have married your dad,” Foggy moaned.

Matt laughed at him.

“He’s plenty busy avoiding the gaze of every person over sixty in his building. Let him live,”  he said. “Sam? Not too traumatized, I hope?”

Mm. Not so bad.

“Are you sure Mike’s your brother?” he asked.

“Unfortunately.”

Too bad.

“It’s fine, if we ever need a guy to distract the police, we’ve got him on retainer.”

That was true.

“They’ll come back?” Sam asked.

Matt paused before feeling for his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or we’ll go to them. I think you’d enjoy watching them in their natural environment.”

 -----------

Hope that’s something for you anon!! I also hope you feel better!

#samuel chung #jack murdock #matt murdock #mike murdock #inimitable verse #fic #ficlet

[angeltrapz]

saw ur post 4 saw asks n im here to deliver!! (also fully gonna answer the one u sent me i just had a busy night 💚) — hmmm would personally love to hear more abt the Matthews-Faulkner-Stanheight-Blank family dynamic? esp maybe Daniel + Art, but rlly just anything u wanna talk abt there! maybe if they have any sorta family traditions, what holidays look like for them, that sorta deal

shfajs tysm!!!! (also tht's totally okay, take yr time!!!)

also oooo I love this question okay. so like u mentioned this when I asked abt what Eric n Daniel's relationship would b like post-trap, but I think it's very very good fr Daniel 2 like. see tht Eric has ppl who love him n who don't mind helping him when he needs it n who are THERE fr him bc again, like you've mentioned, seeing a parent so utterly shattered th way Eric was after his trap is incredibly difficult, esp for a kid (though Daniel is like. at least seventeen? still). knowing tht his dad has a good support system n is surrounded by ppl tht care abt him helps put him at ease bc he knows he can trust Adam n Art. he knows they'll keep Eric safe n tht they'll help him to heal, tht they love him n want 2 see him do well n get better. plus, Daniel knows tht if he needs to talk 2 some1 abt how difficult seeing his dad like tht is, he knows both Adam n Art r there fr him and tht helps a lot. of course, he also has Rigg + maybe Hoffman (until th whole. u know.), but they don't live w Eric. they don't see him every day th way Art n Adam do. that's not 2 say they don't know Eric is struggling, but there is a difference btwn them n Eric's boyfriends. basically, Daniel is very much grateful fr Art + Adam.

I feel like Art wld be VERY good at lending an ear fr when Daniel needs 2 talk. whether that be abt their trap + tht whole experience, Eric's trap n the consequences/rough aftermath, just plain venting, etc.; Art is there 2 listen to them + offer a solution if they want one. most times I think Daniel just wants to b listened to, esp when it comes to what they went thru in the Nerve Gas House - tht's smth they don't feel comfortable discussing w Eric right away fr obvious reasons, but therapy can only do so much. I think th two of them have more in common than they might realize at first, bc hey, Art Killed A Man Because Trevor Was Going To Kill Him If He Didn't, and Daniel Killed A Man Because Xavier Would Have Killed Both Them And Amanda If They Didn't. I feel like Art is like. very reserved abt th details of his first trap + how they affected him (and th second one tbh; it's not smth he vocalizes often at all), but fr Daniel he wld gladly talk abt it if it meant Daniel didn't feel alone. if it meant it could help them, reassure them that hey, it wasn't yr fault, u did what u had to, n I know tht can be hard 2 believe right now n that's okay. u need to process things at yr own pace.

and so Art tells them abt the Mausoleum, bares a part of himself he keeps locked away where he doesn't often give it much thought/actively ignores it. n I think tht's healing fr him too, maybe. there's solace in tht shared experience, as horrible as it was in th moment. 2 know there's someone out there who has even th faintest inkling of what u went thru + what u had to do to survive. of course Daniel relates 2 Adam fr this reason too, but like. Art will use his Lawyer Voice n make sure Daniel understands tht what they did doesn't make them a bad person or confirm tht Jigsaw Was Right And They Deserved It. n tht's rly important fr Daniel 2 hear, esp early on. it's honestly one of th first times Art is truly honest abt his feelings on th matter + the Mausoleum, n it's just. a step tht much closer to healing for both of them.

family traditions!!! they do have a few! in the summer, every sunday they have Daniel w them, Eric Art n Adam go out fr ice cream, even if they get it at the drive thru n eat it in th car bc none of them want 2 be around all th people/sit outside in th muggy weather. it's a good way to get them all out of th house fr a little while, something enjoyable tht doesn't require too much energy or even interaction. it's just smth nice they can do where they're all together n chilling n just enjoying each other's company!

this is mostly a Daniel one but every year around April Fools he just. puts fucking googly eyes on everything. n every time some1 discovers some, it doesn't matter where in th house he is, u can hear him cackle abt it. Adam thinks it's an absolute delight n has assisted on multiple occasions. tht's abt as far as pranks go fr them, bc none of them like surprises like that, but god is it ever hilarious 2 hear Eric frm the kitchen while Art Adam n Daniel r in the living room when he says "I found another one!" while he's looking fr smth in the fridge kjdkfsf.

holidays!! every Christmas they all sit down in th living room n watch a couple of movies w the blankets spread out on th floor w snacks n hot chocolate. the first Christmas following his trap, Eric was sat on th couch between Adam n Art while Daniel chose to sprawl out on th floor, n he just looked around at his boyfriends n his son n the fake pine tree they had all decorated together n he like. needs to take a moment bc this is it. this is all he cld ever want out of life right here. this is a level of peace Eric never knew he wld ever be able to reach after what he went thru fr those six months. n he just sort of presses his face into Art's shoulder n breathes thru it. he doesn't even have to say anything fr Adam n Art to know what he's thinking bc Adam's hand is on his arm n Art's resting his cheek against th top of his head, n he might cry a little, but he's happy. surrounded by th ppl he loves n who love him, love him enough to keep the lights down low n the volume on th television soft, to use subtitles so he doesn't get overwhelmed, Eric realizes he has a home n it's just. oof.

fr Valentine's Day, this one was actually Adam's idea initially: wht they do is take sticky notes n write little affirmations on thm fr each other, n stick thm in places where they'll see it. sometimes Daniel joins in on this one, but usually it's an Art Eric Adam thing. so like it'll be little things, like a note frm Adam telling Eric how proud he is of him, or one from Art letting Adam know he couldn't have had a better best friend, or th one from Eric that thanks th both of thm fr helping him w his rashes + helping him 2 accept tht part of him n start to see it as nothing to be ashamed of. it starts on th first day of February and ends on Valentine's Day itself, n sometimes they get those packs of cards u get fr kids just to write goofy shit on thm to pass back n forth n make each other laugh. they also get th discounted candy!! (Adam steals all th twix bars tho. tht's okay bc Eric likes snickers anyway n Art is fond of reese's peanut butter cups. they share th sweet tarts + conversation hearts!)

Halloween is when they get a big bowl of candy 2 leave on th porch fr the kids who're trick-or-treating while th three of them stay inside (+Daniel sometimes!) n watch some classics, like their Christmas tradition. they Also add in some bad movies 2 mix it up a lil bit bc sometimes u just need a laugh. I am like in Lov w the idea u had abt Eric n Adam sometimes building cozy pillow forts, so they do tht n the three of them just vibe in there n lay together n look n talk. n like it's So Much Fun 2 have ppl to like. discuss movies w while yr watching them! esp when they're ppl who won't be annoyed w u when u wanna share a thought! like Eric n Adam will get into this deep discussion abt horror movie decisions n Art will just lay there n listen bc he loves them so much n loves hearing them get amped up abt things. he'll offer his own two cents if asked too! mostly he listens, but he can definitely contribute.

inevitably at some point, someone's hand ends up in Eric's hair n he's just. asleep not too long after that. usually on someone's shoulder or against their chest, n depending on who's still awake, they either try 2 move to th bedroom or they just sleep in th living room (i.e.: Art will try to convince Eric n Adam to come to bed properly, whereas Adam will just b like "fuck it" n pass out right there. has this led 2 them waking up sore b4? absolutely. but it's like. "we r adults who live w our decisions n this one happened 2 be sleeping on th floor" so.

n then a minor one is on their birthdays, some1 (usually Art, to be completely honest w u) will cook tht person their favourite comfort food fr dinner n they all help make cake/cupcakes/cookies/something dessert-related of their choice. so like Art rly likes brownies, Adam is fond of strawberry jello poke cake, n Eric can make some RLY good carrot cake cupcakes w homemade frosting too. it's just smth fr them to do together + like! it's celebrating! they've all been thru so much hell but they're still here! n that's rly th focus for the three of them. sometimes they have ppl over too - like Rigg, Gibson, Brit, Mallick, Lawrence, William (all of them best-case, obv); it's nice 2 have a lil party sometimes! after what they've endured they've kind of earned it I think!

thank u sm!!! this was so fun 2 think abt fjdkjsk

(lil random hc: when Daniel was little, Eric used 2 write letters to him frm Santa. eventually Daniel got "too old for that," but honestly? they cherish tht memory. I wanted 2 include it bc it makes me kjehfje!!!)

#thank u so much I love getting asks frm u!!!!!! #mutual support hours <3 #saw #eric #adam #art #daniel #others r mentioned #listen. a family can be u yr dad n his two boyfriends n yr all traumatized but yr coping together. #it pulls u together instead of tearing u apart. #which is a concept I desperately wish we could've seen more!! it's what they all deserved damn it!! #long post #asks #gnna go thru n tag these w that so I can like. maybe make a masterpost l8r? #if any1 is interested in tht!

[junqkook]

— EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE; 3 (m.)

— notes; if you’ve read this before, you’ll notice that quite a few things have changed—i wasn’t happy with the original, as it felt rushed, so i rewrote some portions. this fic is not condoning abusive/unhealthy relationships in any way. please do not read if you are trigged by anything relating to stalkers/stalking.

pairing; jungkook/reader genre; stalker au, horror, thriller, angst words; 9,636 rating; mature

— synopsis; finding out who your stalker was did not keep you safe from him; in fact, it has dire consequences and you, as well as those around you, just might not make it out alive.

contents; obsessive, toxic, possessive, delusional behavior, graphic violence, gore, blood, non-con kissing, implication of stockholm syndrome.

— chapters; one. two. three.

With your heart pounding, you slipped out of the bed from beside Jungkook and quickly dressed yourself, the sound of the news reporter’s voice echoing in your head. Once you were dressed, you grabbed your phone and quietly made your way out of his bedroom, wandering down the hall.

What was going on? Why did Jungkook lie to you? That Taehyung he talked about had been in the hospital for weeks, according to the news report. So how the hell could Jungkook have been hanging out with him?

You swallowed past a lump in your throat and padded as silently as you could down the small hallway of his apartment. Your foot caught on something at the end of the hall and you slipped, just barely catching yourself on the door on your right. Looking down, you saw a slip of paper sticking out from under the doorframe. Gnawing on your lip, you glanced behind you toward Jungkook’s bedroom, heart pounding violently in your chest.

Bending down, you pulled at the edge of the paper to slip it the rest of the way out from under the door. You picked it up with shaking fingers, running over the glossy texture and realizing you were holding a printed photo. Your heartbeat quickened, hammering against your ribs painfully as your breath came faster and heavier. You turned the photo over in your shaky hands and your heart leapt into your throat, blocking your airway.

It was a photo of you.

You knew this photo—somehow, you could remember the day in the photo as clear as if it had happened yesterday. Your eyes were crinkled with your laugh, wind blowing your scarf around your neck comically. The jacket you had on was a gift from Hoseok, who had complained about your terrible fashion sense and given it to you on that same day. You had crumbs all over your mouth from the cookies the two of you had munched on as you came back from a long study session in the library.

You knew that photo.

And the day in question had happened before you’d even met Jungkook.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and your knees felt unstable. You heard a faint creak from the bedroom and your breath hitched painfully. Dropping the photograph, you hurried toward the kitchen, looking for your bag. You found it on the kitchen counter and grabbed it, making a beeline toward the front door and slipping your shoes on in a panic. You stood up straight and reached for the doorknob, your breathing heavy even to your own ears.

A hand grasped your shoulder tightly.

You screamed as you turned to face Jungkook, who looked alarmed and snatched his hand back from your body. Your chest was heaving, eyes wide as they trained on him.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asked, lips twitching. “It’s the middle of the night, come back to bed.”

You should stay silent about what you found. You should make up an excuse about why you needed to leave. You should be as non confrontational as possible and get out.

His hand came out and he grabbed your arm gently, prompting you to come back toward the bedroom.

You yanked your arm away from him and nearly hit the wall with the force behind it. Jungkook looked back at you, shocked, hand empty.

“Why do you have a picture of me?” you asked quietly.

He chuckled anxiously, facing you completely. “What do you mean?”

“You have a picture of me—”

“Because I like taking pictures,” he cut you off, a strained smile on his face. “And I like you.”

You shook your head, inching back toward the door. “No, no—you have a picture of me from before we even met!”

His mouth shut and he stared at you silently, seemingly in a panic. “I can—I can explain that, ____, please—”

“No!” you shouted. “Have you been stalking me?”

“It’s not stalking!” he burst out, face turning red as his features twisted. “I love you and you love me, I just fell for you before you met me—”

“You’re sick,” you whispered. “You were the one that left me that picture and notes—” You cut yourself off with a sharp breath, eyes watering. “You sent me that finger! Was it Namjoon’s? Did you kill him?”

Jungkook’s gaze darkened and he took a step forward. You took one back. “He was bothering you,” he answered lowly.

“Oh God,” you mumbled. “I’m gonna be sick. I need to get out of here—”

You turned toward the door, but Jungkook grabbed you with both hands by your arms, shaking you in his grasp. “No! You can’t leave me!”

“Let go!”

“I won’t let you leave me,” Jungkook mumbled, almost to himself, pulling you into his chest and hugging you to him. “You’re mine, no one else can have you.”

“Let go!” you repeated, pushing against his chest. “You’re hurting me!”

Jungkook was muttering to himself, incoherent, as he pulled away from you. He kept a harsh grip on your shoulders so you couldn’t worm away. Your heart nearly stopped as you met his eyes, adrenaline starting to pound into every nerve of your body as you prepared to fight him off.

“You’ll come back to me,” he told you, letting you go. You stumbled backwards toward the door, your wide eyes trained on him as he watched you. “I know you will.”

Your hand found the doorknob and you yanked his apartment door open, rushing out without looking back at him. Your stomach churned and you were panting as you ran down the flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator, finding the door and hurrying outside. You breathed in gulps of the fresh air and kept running, too afraid that if you stopped or looked back, he’d be right behind you.

You only stopped when you were inside of your apartment complex, the door shut and locked as you took your phone out with trembling fingers and dialed the police.

The most the police could do was grant your request for a restraining order against Jungkook. The order didn’t ease your anxiety much at all, but it was better than nothing. When you’d wept to the officers that you found out who your stalker was and insisted he had killed Namjoon, they had gone to search his place. You’d called Hoseok, who rushed to meet you and stay with you at your place until you heard back from the officers. They’d told you that they found a room filled with pictures of you, dates, information—all of it strung up and taped to each wall, covering every inch of it.

But they couldn’t find any trace of Namjoon. Nothing linked him to Jungkook, so they couldn’t keep investigating. The only thing they could offer you was a restraining order and advice on avoiding him. One of the older male officers had scoffed at your panicked expression, suggesting you move if you really wanted to get away from him.

You sighed as you walked across campus, an eerie feeling always trailing behind you like a cloak since you’d found out the truth. What else were you supposed to do? You didn’t want to just sit at home, scared and alone; so you still attended classes as usual, the sudden disappearance of Jungkook raising the hairs at the nape of your neck. When you reached the door to your class, you triple-checked the time before walking in—you didn’t want to be that jerk that randomly opened the door while another class was in session.

You glanced up and met Jimin’s eyes—the both of you looked shocked as you processed who you’d seen and you rushed up toward his seat to slide in beside him. He looked queasy as you leant in toward him.

“Jimin!” you exclaimed, the rest of the class still buzzing as students were making their way in. “Where have you been?”

Jimin shot you a glare. “Don’t act like you don’t know,” he muttered, brushing his hair back from his face with a hand.

“What?” you asked, taken aback. “What do you mean? I’ve been wondering where you were forever!”

“Your crazy fucking boyfriend threatened me if I ever came near you again!” he hissed, lowering his head as he turned to face you completely. You held back a gasp at the sight of his eye, partially hidden by his hair, but still swollen and bruised.

“What happened?” you whispered, not wanting to speak any louder.

“He followed me when I went to my car,” Jimin grumbled. “Damn near fucking killed me and told me to stay away from you.” You felt sick, bile rising in your throat and your stomach churning. You frowned and bit at the inside of your cheek. Jimin studied your expression before continuing, his eyes darting down to your fidgeting fingers. “You really didn’t know?”

“No,” you returned. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Jimin sighed, leaning back in his chair and pulling his cap down to hide his face better. “____, I think you should be more careful about who you have around you then.” Without another word, he turned toward the front and opened his notebook as the professor began to lecture. You were left to stew on your own for the rest of the class, guilt nagging at your insides.

[to seokjinnie 11:57am] — i’m sorry

You chewed at the inside of your cheek, a headache already being brought on by the entire situation. You felt your phone vibrate and glanced at your professor to make sure he wasn’t able to see where you hid the phone under your desk.

[from seokjinnie 12:03pm] — for what? — you can’t make shift or smth?

[to seokjinnie 12:05pm] — no. for not believing u

[from seokjinnie 12:06pm] — oh

No other text came and you eventually slid your phone into your pocket, tapping your foot as you attempted to pay more attention to the lecture. It had been a few days since you’d found out the truth and you hadn’t seen or heard from Jungkook. Granted, you’d blocked his number right away so he couldn’t get in touch with you, but you were still unnerved by your surroundings, every small sound making your heart pound and your limbs shake.

When the professor finished his lecture, dismissing the class a few minutes early, Jimin packed up his stuff and quickly departed, ignoring your voice calling for him to wait. Your cheeks flushed as he ignored you, leaving as quickly as possible, and you sighed, shoving your stuff in your backpack and walking out of the class room as quickly as you could. You bumped shoulders with someone and sent their textbook flying out of their hands, prompting you to apologize immediately and bend down to grab their book.

It was reminiscent of the first time you’d met Jungkook, seeming to be an eternity ago.

You bit your lip and picked up her textbook, handing it over to her and apologizing again. She assured you it was fine and thanked you for giving her the book. As you passed it over, your eyes skimmed the title and you furrowed your brows; on these days, Jungkook had his psych class—but that wasn’t a psych textbook.

“Excuse me,” you stopped her, grabbing her arm gently before she could fully turn away from you and go inside the classroom.

She gave you an odd look, fixing her bag. “Yes?”

“Isn’t this a psychology class?” you asked, an ominous feeling twisting your insides as if rearranging them completely.

She shook her head, showing you the textbook in her hands again. “No, this is an economies class.”

You faintly nodded and thanked her, bowing slightly before taking your leave, your mind swimming. You walked out of the building as if you were in a trance, nothing processing except for the girl’s words. You could’ve sworn Jungkook had that class right after you, but it was his psychology class. Was he even taking that class?

The memory of that picture of you in the library popped up in your mind and you shut your eyes, trying to rid yourself of it. But the picture brought up a very chilling question as you walked, a flash of red in your peripheral as you made your way toward work.

Was Jungkook even a student at your university?

Everything had honestly passed in a blur the next few days, your assignments and exams looming over your head and forcing all of your worries and any thoughts that weren’t of passing, passing, you have to pass this class, right out of your mind so you could focus. Which found you sitting in the library studying for so long that you could barely even see the words on the pages anymore, let alone your own handwriting on your notes.

You’d asked the owners of the store if you could have the next two weeks off for exams and studying and they were more than happy to give it to you, wishing you luck. You stretched your arms over your head as you set your pen down, groaning loudly at the sound of the resounding crack in your lower back.

Glancing at the windows of the library, you saw the sun had already set. You checked your phone and realized the library would be closing soon, so you packed up all of your stuff and slung your backpack over your shoulder. Getting up from the table, you pushed the chair in and waved at the librarian you passed, who smiled and waved back while you made your way to the entrance and quickly left the almost-empty library. The night was cold and so dark you could barely see anything, thanking the street lights for illuminating your way home.

You hadn’t even been walking for longer than a few minutes, still technically on campus, when you felt a chill run down your spine. Your eyes widened and you licked your lips, the feeling of someone following you intensifying with each step you took. You shoved your hands into your hoodie pocket, gripping your phone with tight fingers.

You took a chance and glanced behind you quickly.

You caught a glimpse of someone ducking into the alleyway a few feet behind you and a scream bubbled up in your throat—you swallowed it down and immediately took off into a sprint, pulling your hands and phone out of your pocket as you ran for your life.

You could hear an extra pair of steps running after you and adrenaline pumped its way through your veins, your heart dancing a frenzied beat inside your chest while your blood rushed through your ears. Tears stung your eyes as you ran, your breaths heavy and shallow as the main road came into view, a car turning the corner toward you.

You waved your hands wildly in front of you as you jumped into the road, running toward the car’s headlights at full speed. “Hey!” you screamed, nearly sobbing with relief. “Help me! Please! Stop, please, help me!”

The car came to a screeching halt, barely missing you. Your hands came down on the hood, a sob wracking out of your throat as your knees wobbled. The driver’s side opened and you met Yoongi’s eyes, wide and dark as he took in the sight of you, panting and crying.

He called your name, shutting his car door as he came forward and put his hands on your shoulders. “What’s wrong?” he murmured.

Without answering, you fell into his arms with a soft cry, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face into his neck. After a few moments of his comforting embrace, you finally pulled back as the adrenaline wore off and you were left a trembling mess, Yoongi’s grip the only thing keeping you upright. You glanced back the way you had run from, not seeing anyone chasing after you anymore.

“Hey,” Yoongi started softly, leading you toward the passenger side of his car. “Get in, I’ll drive you home.” You nodded and opened the door, getting into his car and quickly shutting the door, the sound of the driver’s side door opening and closing as he got in as well relieving you. He locked the doors immediately and you breathed out shakily, fastening your seatbelt as he put the car into drive and started to drive down the road.

“So what happened?” he asked after a few minutes of silence, the only sound being your mumbled directions of where to turn since he’d only been to your place once. You bit down on your lip and swallowed nervously, glancing over at him as he slowly pulled up to your apartment complex. He stopped his car and put it in park, turning to face you while he waited for a response.

“I just—I think he was following me,” you mumbled. “I saw someone behind me and then I heard them running after I took off and I—” You cut yourself off and had to blink away the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes. Yoongi’s hand twitched toward yours but he seemed to change his mind and clenched it in his lap instead.

You found yourself wishing he hadn’t.

“I was scared,” you whispered brokenly, voice catching as a tear slipped down your cheek, the memory of the footsteps pounding against the cement of the sidewalk burning in your brain. “I was so scared,” you repeated.

Yoongi stayed silent, simply letting you cry the way you needed to, your body unable to hold everything together even for a second longer. When you were done, he turned the engine off and gestured with his hand toward your complex. “I’ll walk you in,” he told you.

You nodded your head and got out of the car after he did, the sound of the car locking echoing in your ears. You waited for him to walk over closer to you before making your way to the front door of the apartment building, sticking impossibly close to him. Knowing that someone else was with you calmed your panicked nerves, the thought of Jungkook lurking around your apartment waiting to ambush you scaring you more than you thought it would. You had a restraining order in place, but that wouldn’t really stop him from doing anything if he really wanted to.

The thought of him somehow breaking in, his knowledge of not only your schedule but your apartment, had you breaking into a cold sweat. Yoongi’s presence right behind you as you unlocked the door and stepped inside relaxed you considerably, but not enough for your paranoid mind to completely shove the thoughts of Jungkook out of your mind.

You whirled around to face Yoongi as the door slid shut behind him, his eyes widening at your abrupt action.

“Can you stay with me?” you mumbled, cheeks warm as you avoided his gaze.

He coughed awkwardly and shuffled his feet. You saw him shove his hands into his pockets and then he cleared his throat. You glanced back at his face.

“Sure,” he replied easily, seemingly unbothered. But you could tell that he was; his eyes were looking anywhere except your face, darting from side to side.

“Thank you,” you whispered, turning back to the stairs and leading him silently up to your apartment. The entire walk was tense and uncomfortable, though the thought of having someone with you so you wouldn’t be alone easing the tension in your limbs. Letting the two of you into the apartment was quick and quiet and you locked your front door immediately after, barely leaving it open a centimeter more than it would take for Yoongi to fit.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he offered, slipping his shoes off.

You nodded your head in response and took your own shoes off. “I’ll get you a pillow and blanket,” you told him, smiling gratefully and making your way to your bedroom to get the extra stuff for him. Once you returned, he was seated on the couch and scrolling through his phone. He saw you coming back and stood up, taking the folded blanket and pillow from you with a thankful smile.

The two of you murmured goodnights and then you went to your bedroom, only feeling a little guilty for locking the door.

You’d woken up before Yoongi, slipping out of your bedroom as quietly as you could and going about your normal morning routine while he slept. He’d woken up when you were in the midst of your shower, and had been sitting up on the couch on his phone when you came out dressed for your day and ready to go.

“Morning,” he grunted, stretching his arms over his head and sitting up straighter at the sight of you.

“Morning,” you returned happily. You paused for a second, gathering up the courage before being able to speak again. “Yoongi, I—I just wanted to thank you. You know. For staying with me when you didn’t have to.”

He waved you off. “It’s fine, ____. I don’t mind.”

You opened your mouth to continue but your doorbell cut you off. You furrowed your brows and craned your neck to look at the door—who the hell would be ringing your doorbell so early in the day? You smiled apologetically at Yoongi before getting up to go to the door.

You looked through the peephole first, not seeing anyone outside. Your brows furrowed together deeper, a frown twitching at your lips as you unlocked the door and looked out into the hall. There was no one.

But there was an envelope right outside of the door when you looked down.

Swallowing, you bent to pick it up. You opened it hesitantly, pulling out a sheet of paper with trembling fingers. Your breath hitched.

You need to remember that you’re mine. It won’t be pretty if I have to remind you.

You let the paper slip from your hands, rushing out into the hallway and looking left and right. You couldn’t catch a glimpse of anything or anyone out of the ordinary, blood rushing through your ears and muffling all the sound around you. Yoongi was calling your name when you finally zoned back into reality, his hand lightly grasping your arm.

You whipped around to face him and gave him a broken look. “He was here,” you said thickly, letting him tug you back into the apartment. “He was here,” you repeated to yourself, hugging yourself as Yoongi picked up the note laying on the ground before shutting your door and locking it.

“You need to call the police,” he told you gently. “Don’t you have a restraining order against him?” At your surprised look, he continued. “Hobi told me.”

You made an ‘ah’ sound in response to the information. Then you shook your head, running your hands through your hair nervously. “I can’t—the note doesn’t prove that it was Jungkook, so it would just provoke him into doing something, probably.” The two of you stood quietly and then you gave him an apologetic look. “Anyway, I have an exam today, so—”

He cut you off awkwardly. “Oh! Yeah, alright, I’ll—I’ll leave first, then. Good luck on your exam.” You thanked him and then he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

What the hell were you going to do?

Well, for now you were going to forget about Jungkook and his obsession with you and focus on your exam. You weren’t going to let your grades suffer just because of him. Making up your mind, you grabbed your school stuff and then made your way out of the apartment, triple checking that it was locked and secure before you made your way out of the complex and toward your university.

Your exam went as well as an exam could go—you knew some answers and had to guess on others. You finished a few minutes early and had turned it in to your professor before leaving, glad to be done with studying. You grabbed your phone and turned it back on, waiting for your messages to load. Surprisingly, you didn’t have that many texts, minus one weird one from Hoseok.

[from yoongi; 1:14pm] — you done with your exam? — have u talked to hobi today?

As you were walking, you started to type out a response to the boy who you'd opened up to just a little bit. You didn't completely have a choice about it, but you'd judged Yoongi poorly before and you now wished you hadn't been so cold to him before—he was kind.

[to yoongi; 1:56pm] — yeah i just finished — i have a text from him, why?

As you saw the three little dots pop up to indicate Yoongi was typing a response, you exited the thread and clicked onto Hoseok's instead. You furrowed your brow, something squirming inside of your belly as you read the texts, your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

[from hobi; 12:37pm] — i need u to help me w/ smth — can u come out by that store a few blocks from ur place? — it won't take long

Your phone vibrated with a new message from Yoongi but you ignored it, opting instead to type a response to Hoseok.

[to hobi; 1:58pm] — yeah sure what store

The response was instantaneous, coming before you could even exit the chat or lower your phone.

[from hobi; 1:58pm] — the cafe next to the pizza place — u know the one?

You pursed your lips and typed an affirmative. You told him you'd be there later since you had other things to do today. He tried to convince you otherwise but you shrugged it off, shoving your phone into your pocket and continuing on your way home.

While you were walking home, you felt an eerie calm drape over your body like a blanket—something was not right. But you didn't know what it was or why you felt that way, so your brain whispered that you were just being paranoid.

You remembered that picture Jungkook had had of you, the way he'd gripped you so tight he'd left bruises, the dark way his eyes had roamed your face as if to claim you as his through some primal instinct to warn off others, the way he'd admitted that he'd done something horrible to Namjoon for you—

You weren't being paranoid. You needed to be cautious.

Swallowing, you took a different turn from your usual one, planning to go in a wide circle radius to approach your apartment from the opposite direction. You didn't want to risk Jungkook coming after you despite the restraining order you had, since he clearly knew your usual route home and might attempt to ambush you. The thought of having not known his true nature until it was too late gave you goosebumps, your mouth drying.

You'd only been walking down the unfamiliar road for a few minutes when you passed a pizzeria that had you stopping in your tracks. You glanced back at it and swallowed nervously, the familiar name of it making you pause; that was the pizza place Hoseok had mentioned in his texts. You should be glad to see your best friend, but something just... rubbed you the wrong way about his messages and you didn't know if you should actually go.

Should you turn back? Should you speed walk past the alleys and cafe to get home faster and hope Hoseok didn't see you?

You decided to just break into a brisk walk, quickly moving your feet and shoving your hands in your pockets to dig for your keys. Your finger wrapped around the keychain and you started to pull it out of your pocket, letting out a shaky breath as you passed the cafe safely.

A hand grabbed you by your hair and yanked you backwards.

You screamed, hands coming up to your hair as you lost your balance from the force of the pull. Your back slammed into a firm chest and another hand came around you, pressing against your mouth and muffling the screams tearing their way out of your throat.

"You can't ignore me forever," Jungkook's voice sing-songed into your ear, a low and light chuckle following his words. Your heart was hammering so hard into your ribs that you were sure it would crack one of them in its frenzy while you grabbed at his hand with yours.

You opened your mouth a little wider and bit down on his ring finger as hard as you could, not letting go even as he cursed and tried to yank it away from your mouth. He pulled your head back by your hair and fire shot through your neck at the pain, your mouth instinctively letting go of his finger so you could focus on his grasp.

"Let go!" you screamed, thrashing in his hold as he swore and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you pressed against him. "Let go of me!"

"Not a chance," he grunted, trying to control your erratic movements by your hair. You shifted your keys in your palm and then aimed it for his hand in your hair, feeling the pressure as it dug into his skin and he yelped, shooting away from you quickly. His grip had loosened enough for you to dart away from him, sprinting out of the dark alleyway he'd dragged you into and running as fast as you could down the street.

All the stores were closed and the sun was already setting.

You continued to scream as you ran, hearing his heavy footfalls right behind you and trying to zigzag out of his way so he couldn’t make a grab for you. You could see the main road, a few cars zipping past, right in front of you. If you could get there, if you could just make it to the main road, there would be a less likely chance that he’d be able to grab you without notice—

You just managed to run into the street, cars zipping past you and honking loudly. You were panting, whipping around to check behind you, catching a glimpse of a figure disappearing into the shadows of the buildings. Another honk brought your attention back to the cars, breaths heavy as you jogged to the other side of the road, hands shaking as you yanked out your phone to dial the police.

The detective assigned to your case patted your shoulder sympathetically, shaking her head. You sighed and drank some of the coffee at the shop nervously, gnawing at your lips.

“We’re doing everything we can,” she said, breaking the tense silence.

“Yeah, sure,” you responded numbly. “I know he has Hoseok. I know it; he’s the one that texted me from Hoseok’s number and he isn’t home!”

She ran her hands through her hair. “We’re looking through all the possible leads, but—he’s like a ghost. We haven’t been able to find a trace of him.” You dropped your forehead onto your arms and held back the frustrated tears that were starting to prick at your eyes. “Just... try to stay around people, okay?” she pressed. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

You didn’t reply, instead peeking up to see her pay for the meals and drinks before patting your back and taking her leave. You pushed your coffee away from you and pulled out your phone again, too afraid to text Hoseok’s number now that you knew Jungkook had it—and him.

The next few days passed in a complete blur, never once giving you an opportunity to see anyone. You had been bugging the detective for any news, but her replies were scarce and always said the same thing: they still hadn’t found Jungkook nor Hoseok. So, you did what any person in your position would do.

You went looking for him.

He wasn’t at his apartment, which you already knew but thought it wouldn’t hurt to check anyway. You knew it was stupid, but you realized you’d have to go near the place he had lured you to last time if you wanted any luck at finding your best friend. It was fairly deserted, all the stores closing once more and anyone on the streets already making their way home. You were nervous, shoulders hunching in on yourself as you surveyed your surroundings, eyes open for any sign of Jungkook.

Briefly, you thought you’d seen him across the street and your heart had stopped beating for a split second, but then you noticed the magenta colored bangs peeking out from under the cap and you let out a breath, continuing to walk down toward the residential area just up the street from all the stores and shops.

By the time you’d made it between the houses, far away from the main roads and confined to only the backroads and narrow streets between the small houses that were packed tightly together, your heart was pounding in your ears and you were whirling around to check behind you every few seconds.

You heard something scratch against the ground up ahead and you paused, straining your ears to listen harder. It was like a faint moaning sound, followed by groans and more scratching, like something dragging against the cement. You tiptoed forward, being as quiet as you could and taking solace in the shadows by the walls of the houses as you neared the source of the noises.

There was a body sitting against a wall, hunched forward and chest moving up and down rapidly. You squinted your eyes and took a few steps toward it, trying to catch a glimpse of what they were doing—

“Hoseok?” you asked breathlessly, immediately rushing toward the limp figure in the deserted street.

“____?” he murmured, barely able to open his eyes. Your hands were shaking as you rested your hands against his cheeks, pulling his head up to peer into his face. He grunted and you looked down between the two of you, noticing the wet dark stain in the abdomen of his shirt.

“What the hell happened to you?” you asked shakily, bringing a hand down and pressing it to his shirt. He whined in pain, throwing his head back against the brick. When you brought your hand back up, it was sticky with blood. You swallowed nervously, breath hitching as you felt bile rise up in your throat.

A hand fisted in the back of your shirt and yanked you up, your feet slipping from underneath you and you fell back hard, coming into contact with someone’s chest, arms wrapping around your body. Your hands came free of Hoseok, who attempted to make a grab for your legs weakly.

He made a muffled sound and you twisted in his grasp, screaming and thrashing, trying to claw at him so he’d let go of you.

“If you don’t stop moving, I’ll kill him!” Jungkook shouted, grabbing you by the hair and pulling you close to his body. You went silent and your blood chilled. He backed you into the alley again, the roads all deserted where you were with a very slim chance of someone walking past. He pressed into you and you felt the cold wall on your back as you tried to inch as far away from him as you could. “That’s much better,” he purred, bringing one hand up to cup your jaw. “You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.”

“What did you do to Hoseok?” you asked thickly, tears starting to fall from your eyes and clog up your throat, barely able to maintain eye contact with him. He was wearing a black cap, strands of bright magenta hair slipping down to frame his face and your stomach churned, realizing he’d seen you earlier and you hadn’t recognized him with the new hair. You’d provided him the perfect opportunity to follow you into a secluded area, your guard down and leaving you vulnerable to him.

His face twisted with his anger, nose scrunching and mouth turned down into a frown. “Don’t talk about him,” he warned you, pushing up against you harder. “Don’t ever say another man’s name when you have me.” You didn’t respond, simply staring at him. “Am I making myself clear?” he pressed.

You jerked your head into a nod, breathing heavily. His features softened into a smile and he looked kinder, but his grip on you tightened to remind you that you’d been fooled by a pretty face and stupid infatuation.

“I missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into your hair and sniffing loudly. You turned your head away from him. Undeterred, he simply followed your movements and brought your face back toward him with his hand on your jaw. “I know you missed me too, babe, even if you’re playing hard to get. I know he fed you lies about me.” His face contorted for a split second before relaxing again.

“What did you do to him?” you mumbled, voice breaking as you thought about your best friend, lying a few feet away and bleeding out from whatever wounds Jungkook had inflicted on him over the course of days. You should’ve known to be with him and check up on him. How could you have been so stupid?

Jungkook pressed a kiss into your cheek and nipped your jaw. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll live if he minds his own business and leaves us alone.” He brushed your hair back with his other hand and you immediately brought your hands up to shove him away from you. He didn’t budge, lowering the hand on your jaw to your throat and tightening just enough to make you uncomfortable. He tsked and leaned in even closer, until every word he spoke had his lips brushing gently against yours. “I know you want to be with me. You love me and I love you. We’re meant to be together.”

“He’s bleeding out, Jungkook,” you pleaded, voice cracking. “Please, please—don’t let him die, please.” His eyes were unblinking as he contemplated your request, but you realized that you knew his weakness just as he knew all of yours. “You’re—you’re right, we’re meant to be together,” you started, forcing a smile onto your face and hoping he’d believe you. “I want to go with you, I want to! But if he—” Your breath caught and you blinked quickly to dispel the tears forming in your eyes, willing your heart to calm down its frenzied beat. “If he dies,” you continued quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “The cops will never leave us alone.”

Jungkook hummed, bringing a hand up to brush your hair back again. “I suppose you’re right.” He glanced back at Hoseok and then quickly back to you, not leaving you any room to make a grab for the pipe you could see out of the corner of your eye just out of your reach.

When he moved forward and pressed his mouth against yours, you screwed your eyes shut and tried to move away, but the hand around your throat constricted your air and your mouth opened to fight for a breath. He immediately licked into your mouth as you struggled to breathe, pressing against you completely and bringing his other hand up to your hair and tugging on it harshly as he kissed you. You could feel his hand brush down to your cheek, his fingers wet and sticky—you knew that was Hoseok’s blood on his hands, but you couldn’t do anything to stop him. You needed him to believe this rouse if you were going to get yourself and your best friend out of this alive.

His hips slotted against yours and ground down once. You made a gurgled noise of protest and hoped he’d take it as a strangled moan, your eyes shutting tight enough to make dots dance across the back of your eyelids. He pulled back with a smack of his lips obscenely, eyes hooded and dark as he smiled at you gently. You bit back the bile rising in your esophagus at the sight, attempting to match his smile with your own.

He yanked your body toward his, away from the wall of the alley, and whirled you around so your back was against his chest. His arm moved across your chest to restrain your arms and his free hand came up to your face, palm clamping shut on your mouth and nose to restrict your air. Your eyes widened and your body thrashed in his hold, hands coming up to grab at his arms while you tried to kick at him from behind. You couldn’t breathe, having not sucked in enough air from the abrupt hold, and he pressed harder. Your body fell back against his chest, fingers digging into his arm to try to force him to let go.

“Shhh,” he cooed gently, his fingers digging into your cheeks as you started to lose consciousness, body going slack and eyes fluttering shut. “It’ll be fine, baby, you’ll be okay.”

The last thing you remember was his voice cooing sweet nothings into your ear and his mouth pressing kisses into your hair while his bloody hand was clamped against your mouth and nose.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the light, your head aching. You could hear someone murmuring and you tried to bring your hand up to your head but stopped when you felt something cold wrapped around your wrists. You forced your eyes open and blearily looked down to see chains wrapped around your wrists.

You shot up, hearing the squeaking of the small bed you were on, and you looked around to see where you were. The room was small, dark besides one lightbulb that dangled up above in the middle of the room, and it was cold. Really cold.

“You’re finally awake,” a soft voice said.

You whipped your head around to see who had spoken and saw another girl, about your age or maybe older, sitting in a similar position to you across the room.

“Who—?”

“I’m Jieun,” she said quickly. “I—Do you know why he took us?”

Your head was throbbing and you winced, slowly raising your heavy hand up to your head and blanching when it came back wet with something dark. “Did he fucking knock me into a wall or something?” you murmured.

She shrugged, grabbing your attention again. Her clothes were dirty, as was she, and her hair was tangled horribly. She looked awful. She wasn’t locked up the same way you were, but she was definitely way worse off than you; her body looked frail, like she wouldn’t be able to put up a fight.

“Wait, Jieun?” you asked slowly. “You’re—are you the girl that went missing months ago?”

She nodded her head, eyes wide. “You’ve been out for a few days. When Jungkook came with you, your head was bleeding already and he sort of tried to clean you up before he put you there.”

Your eyes widened as you remembered everything that happened before he had restricted your air. “I’m—oh my God, how are we going to get out of here?”

She sighed. “I’ve tried before. Before he brought you, he hadn’t been back in a long time.” As if to emphasize her point, her stomach growled and her cheeks flushed pink. “I don’t know how we’re—”

A door opened from the stairwell and your eyes were immediately drawn to it. You leaned over as much as you could in the bed, catching a faint glimpse of a wooden overhead door, like you were underground in some kind of cellar. You saw some grass from around the silhouette of his body before he shut the door again, making his way heavily down the steps.

You met Jungkook’s eyes and he took the cap off of his head, tossing it onto a table and bringing a chair over to your bed before he sat down, a wide smile on his face. “____!” he said cheerfully. “You’re up, I’m so glad!”

You didn’t respond, simply staring at him. You glanced down at your wrists before meeting his eyes again.

“I hope you understand, babe,” he started gently, resting one of his hands on yours. You hated that you wanted more of his touch, the skin of his hand warm against your freezing fingers. “I didn’t want to risk you trying to get out while I was gone.”

“Why—why did you leave?” you asked hesitantly, glancing at Jieun over his shoulder.

He shrugged and gestured to a backpack over to the table. “I was getting you some food for when you woke up. Sorry about that nasty bump on your head.” He furrowed his brows and brought a free hand up to ghost his fingers over your wound. You winced, flinching away from his touch. “You got knocked into the wall when I was trying to bring you here.” His gaze darkened for a split second. “All because of that liar.”

Your heart nearly stopped beating in your chest at the mention of your best friend. “How—how is he?” you whispered. At his suspicious look, you swallowed nervously and continued, attempting to distract him as you interlocked your fingers with his. “You know, since—since we wouldn’t want the police coming after you.”

He visibly relaxed, patting your hand and squeezing it before dislodging your hold, moving over to grab his backpack and bring it to your side. “No worries, I called the police as a concerned bystander,” he paused to chuckle before continuing, “and I heard on the news he’s been recovering just fine in the hospital.” He hummed. “Though, he’s currently unable to talk to police, according to the news.”

His razor sharp smile as he handed you the food he brought made your insides twist and you didn’t want to ask what that meant; the important thing was that Hoseok was recovering and safe.

After you’d finished your food, ignoring the crawling of your skin as Jungkook simply sat and watched you eat, you started to feel drowsy. Your eyelids felt heavy and your limbs were like lead when you tried to move them. You glanced over at Jungkook, body slumping back onto the bed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured from above you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. You heard the jingling of keys from somewhere, and you made a noncommittal sound in the back of your throat, eyes falling on the glint of the metal by his backpack. He smothered you in kisses, pressing his mouth to yours repeatedly like he couldn’t get enough, and you let him as you focused your energy on your one hand, reaching out and grabbing the keys before you lost complete motor function. You tossed them gently under the bed, flinching in your bed to make it squeak and cover the sound of the keys hitting the cement.

You tried to open your mouth, to say something, but you were powerless to move, trapped in your own body as Jungkook rearranged your arms under the blanket and tucked you in. Your eyes finally fell shut and you sunk into the mattress of the bed.

Jieun’s screaming woke you up, startling you from your drug-induced sleep. You threw the covers off as best as you could, wincing against the rub of the metal on your skin. When you were fully awake, blinking the sleep from your eyes, you could see Jungkook lifting her body from the rickety bed. She was thrashing as best she could, slamming her hands on his back as he easily threw her over his shoulder. You could tell she was malnourished from the second you’d laid eyes on her, her body frail from months of being cooped up and in chains, barely being fed as Jungkook must have gone days or weeks before returning to give her food and water.

“Jungkook, what—” you started, eyes wide as you watched him lug her over to the stairs.

He turned to face you, smile lighting up his features. “Oh, you’re awake! Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. I just need to take care of something first.”

Your blood was like ice, freezing you in your bed as you watched him carry her up the stairs and out of the cellar, shutting the wooden door behind him and disappearing, her screams echoing faintly until you could no longer hear them. Your heart lurched into your chest and then you moved, throwing yourself to the ground and wincing at the harsh landing onto the cement as you dug around under the bed for the keys you’d tossed under there.

This might be your only chance to escape.

Your fingers closed around cold metal and you yanked your arm out from under the bed, sobbing with relief as you shakily tried all of the keys against the lock in your chains until one of them finally clicked, opening the lock. You let the chains fall from your wrists, wincing as the air brushed against the burns from the restraints around your wrists.

You got to your feet, knees wobbling like jelly from not using them the past few days, and you swallowed nervously, glancing around for anything you could use as a weapon. You found a rusty pipe by the corner of Jieun’s bed and you wobbled over to it as fast as you could, picking it up and keeping it by your side as you made your way to the stairs, climbing them slowly until you reached the top. You pressed all of your weight into the the hatch, groaning at how heavy it was but unrelenting until it flipped open and you could get out. You crawled out, not bothering to shut it as you got to your feet and grabbed the pipe with both hands.

You were in the middle of the woods, not having a single clue where you should go from here. As you stood there for a few minutes, debating which direction to go in, you heard a piercing scream from your right and you rushed toward it, trying not to fall over and stay as quiet as you could.

You continued to follow the sounds, the screams turning into pleas and quiet sobs the closer you got; you knew you were headed toward Jungkook and Jieun, so you raised your pipe and tried to hide in the trees.

You glimpsed the boy’s back, Jieun’s body on the ground under him as he wrapped his hands around her throat and she tried to shove him off. You watched the sight for a split second, calculating your odds and realizing there was no way you’d get out of this alive if you tried to turn back—he’d outrun you quickly and you’d be defenseless against him if he was focusing all of his energy on you.

You came up behind him as slowly and quietly as you could, keeping you mouth shut so you weren’t breathing too heavily and he wouldn’t hear it, and then you raised the pipe over your head and inhaled deeply.

You swung it down toward his head, knocking the metal into the back of it and wincing at his grunt as he fell over. Jieun coughed, spluttering and sitting up as she glanced over at his limp body laying beside hers. She looked up at you, wide-eyed, and then you crouched down to take his pulse.

“He’s still alive,” you breathed, shutting your eyes in relief. You didn’t want to kill him—he should have to pay for what he did to you. “Does he have a phone?” you asked Jieun, who was still staring at you with wide eyes.

“You didn’t kill him?” she asked shakily, her body trembling.

You shook your head, keeping the pipe in your hand and checking his pockets for a phone. Your fingers wrapped around one and you smiled as you pulled it out, cursing when you saw it was locked. You thanked everything you could think of that he had an iPhone, which had the emergency calling option; when the finger-lock didn’t recognize your fingerprint and it opened the passcode option, you clicked “Emergency” and dialed the police, sobbing when the operator answered and telling them everything, where you were and who you were—and that Jieun, the girl that had disappeared from Daegu months ago, was with you.

You were going to be okay. You were going to be okay.

You let out a shaky breath and reached over to squeeze Jieun’s hand in yours, a few stray tears landing on the grass as you tried to keep yourself together. You lowered your head and rested your forehead against both of your hands as you let yourself cry.

Months had passed since then and you were finally on the road to recovery. They’d found Namjoon, healthy and fine except for the missing finger along with whatever psychological damage Jungkook had inflicted on him. You’d heard the detectives mention that his plan had been to kill Jieun and then keep you for a few months before the same fate would have eventually befallen you had you not escaped.

You shuddered at the thought.

“____!” Jieun called, poking your side. You startled and looked up at her, smiling softly and poking her back. “They’re coming to pick us up. You ready to go yet?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. Just watching some TV,” you mumbled, getting up and taking another look around the new apartment. The trauma had brought the two of you together, forming an unbreakable bond between you. After weeks and weeks of seemingly never ending therapy, you’d formed a friendship so tightly knitted together that you knew the two of you would never break away from each other. You’d decided to get an apartment together and live closer to Hoseok, who started to share an apartment with Yoongi.

The doorbell rang and the two of you flinched, paused, and then burst into giggles at your reactions. You were both still flighty and easily scared, but you were working to get through it together; you’d even developed a buddy rule so you were never alone. Most nights one of you snuck into the other’s room and bed, shaking and trembling from nightmares of his laugh, his eyes, his touches.

His touches haunted you the most.

Sometimes you could feel the ghost of a caress or a kiss on your skin, leaving you cold and shivering and wide awake in the middle of the night, too afraid to go back to sleep.

Jieun had watched the trial, needing to know what happened to him after being arrested. You weren’t strong enough to go, to face him again. Jieun was your rock in that sense—she needed you for your comforts, for her to lean on when the memories of her Taehyung were too much, and you needed her for her strength in moving past what had happened and keep you going. She’d told you that at the end of the very, very long trial, he’d been found guilty on all the charges against him and convicted; she only said he’d be away for a long time and you didn’t question it further, not wanting to know anything more about him.

“Come in!” she called, knowing Hoseok had brought his extra key with him. The door opened and the boys let themselves in, murmuring to themselves as you quickly slipped your shoes on.

“Ready?” Yoongi asked when you hurried over to the little hall by the door.

You bit your lip and nodded, ignoring the heat flushing through your chest at his small smile. You could hear Jieun snickering and you turned to send her a panicked glare—shut up, you mouthed.

Hoseok’s hand came to rest on your shoulder and he gestured for Jieun to hurry over as well. “Let’s go, let’s go, ladies! Joon’s waiting with Jinnie at the restaurant and want us to get there ASAP. We’re already late!”

“Sorry, sorry,” she murmured to him, hurrying over and grabbing her keys and phone.

“Joon’s there?” you pretended to whine, pouting at your friends. “He still won’t forgive me for not listening to him at the store!”

Yoongi chuckled and his hand brushed against your lower back softly before it was gone, hesitant to touch you. You didn’t blame him; if a touch was too sudden, you would be thrown into a train of memories that would lead you down a dark path that you didn’t want to revisit. “He’ll get over it. It’s because he cares about you that he’s pretending not to forgive you.”

“Yeah, babes,” Jieun cooed, knocking your hip with hers gently. “He cares about you!”

You rolled your eyes and shoved her softly, ignoring the chuckles from Hoseok and Yoongi. “Shut up, oh my God.” All of you left the apartment lightly, laughter and happiness following you all without a shadow lurking over your heads.

The door shut on the forgotten TV, the program interrupted by the breaking news reporter flickering onto the screen.

“Breaking news. The transport bus with convicted felons crashed on the side of the road, killing two of the officers on impact. All the convicts were found and retained, except for one. The public should take caution and call the emergency services immediately if he is spotted; he should be considered extremely dangerous. If you see him, do not approach him. Women should take considerable caution until this man is caught and brought back to the authorities. Thank you.”

all rights reserved © junqkook | 5 SEPT 2018 | the reposting, modifying, and/or translating in any form on any medium is strictly not allowed.

#bangtanwriters-net #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #bts x reader #bts horror au #bangtan x reader #bangtan #bts #jungkook #mine* #jjk #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #thriller au #bts thriller #bts horror #horror au #mystery #thriller #bts thriller au #tw: stalking #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook scenarios #bts reactions #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #bts angst

[maggyme13]

The Last Mission (1/?)

AN: I got a request for a fluffy dark!Wintersoldier/Bucky one shot (that turned into a series) where the reader is on the Helicarrier in CA:WS and gets taken by him, ending up as his sexslave (or smth like that).

BE PREPARED FOR DUB!CON and maybe even NON!CON in later chapters. DO NOT READ IF THAT OFFENDS YOU!

I hope I can do the request honor and that you like it :)

Warnings: Fighting, angst

Wordcount: around 1600

 Masterlist

TLM-Masterlist

 „You are kidding me, right? I am just a simple secretary and office-nerd. Nothing special-“, you asked, believing THE Captain America was pulling your leg.

“I fear not Ms. (y/ln). But we really don’t have time for this discussion. You need to come with us.”, he sighted.

“But why me?”, you whined, this time looking at the redhead that stood next to him.

“Because no one suspects a single unimportant secretary to be the key to the carriers.”, the black widow snapped at you, fed up with your whining.

“Can´t you just  cut my fingers off? I don’t want to go there.”

“Understandable, but I fear that wouldn’t work. We just need you to override the main door to the hangar.”, the other man, tried to ease your fear, but it didn’t work out.

______

That was how you got on this flying hell-hole with the Captain and a man that had a metal arm instead of a normal one, who were currently beating the living shit out of each other. You were hiding as far away from them as possible, covering against a steel beam at the other end of the little bridge that span over the glass bottom.

Why me? Why couldn’t they use a fricking cat as the key, or so?

“Bucky it´s me!”, you heard Captain America shout over and over again, trying to make his opponent to stop.

That didn’t work the last ten times! It won´t work this time!- Why does this stupid thing have to fly?

It wasn’t that you were afraid of heights, but being inside something that you knew was about to crash, wasn’t of your liking either.

The sound of soft flesh hitting the glass-bottom close to your hiding place caught your attention: Captain America had finally gotten the upper hand and was now changing the control-chips of the ship. But the assailant wouldn’t stay down for long; faster than humanly possible he had climbed back up and was just about to head back to beat up his ´friend´ again, when his eyes fell onto you.

His gaze was cold and you saw his muscles twitch, like he was contemplating on weather he would attack you as well, or not.

Ice cold fear began to crawl over your whole body.

“Captain...Help-please?!”, you called out, not daring to look away from the dark haired man. Maybe he wouldn’t attack if you kept looking. Just like the Angels of Dr. Who.

That didn’t work with Rogers, why should it with me?

He just wanted to make a move towards you, when his attention snapped back to his first enemy.

I need to go. I need to go, right now! I sooo don’t like this look. Maybe I can jump? – Nope, still to far up in the air.

Peaking over the edge and through the glass floor, you gulped.

I hope this thing can land- somehow.

“SHOOT IT DOWN!”, the voice of Captain America pierced your mind, startling you out of your train of thoughts.

Wait WHAT? Are you kidding me?

Jerking your head to the most famous American, your eyes got huge: he was held down by the his throat, his face bloody and already swollen.

“MARIA, DO IT NOW!”

FUCK!!!

The sound of heavy bullets hitting and piercing the hull of the carrier reached your ears, and you looked around panicked, trying to find a save place.

Fuck you Rogers. I didn’t sign up to die. I didn’t sign up for this at all!

Explosions burst through the ship and you covered your head with your arms, making yourself as small as possible, so there was less volume for the armoury to hit.

Another explosion happened and the whole ship suddenly dipped to one side and started to fall.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh-!”, you screamed, skidding down the now steep floor. Your hands  were trying to find anything you could hold onto, but failed and you saw yourself already falling through the burst hull and to your death.

That’s it. I am dead. There is no way I can survive this fall and that the water is deep enough. FUCK.

Most of your body was already mid-air, when a painful yank went through you and you suddenly came to a full stop. A hand around one of your wrists. Taking in deep breaths to, you tried to calm down your racing heart, and after a few seconds you were able to look up to thank Captain America to saving you.

Only that it hadn’t been Shields supersoldier who had saved you, it was Hydra´s one.

Why did he save me?

He stood there: each foot on either side of the gaping hole, his metal-hand buried into a steel beam and every muscle in his body tensed- but not strained. With one swift movement he pulsed you back into the confines of the crashing carrier and against his chest; your body facing away from him. Your arm was caged between your own chest and his strong arm. Fearing he might let go of you again, you dug the fingers of your free hand into his lower arm.

Don’t let go. Don’t let go. Please don’t let go!

Panic flushed through your veins and you were certain: had he pulled you up with your chest against his, you would have wrapped your legs around his body and, so you wouldn’t fall to your death again, should he decide to let you go.

YOU ARE STILL FALLING TO YOUR DEATH. Idiot.

The river was coming closer and closer, and your saviour(?), captor (?) did not move. Like at all.

Can we please go somewhere save? And where is Captain Americ- OH SHIT!

Your eyes had found the unconscious form of your ´comrade´ laying beneath a fallen steel beam; mere metres were between you (still clinging to that man) and his unmoving form.

Just when you were about to faceplant right into the surface of the water, the man that was holding you pivoted around his own axis, so that his back was taking the full impact and his whole body shielded you from most of the pain. Before you could react, water was everywhere and you almost breathed in water- hadn’t it been for the metal hand clamping over your nose and mouth.

Concentrating on not drowning, you first didn’t realize the male was swimming through the wrack, grabbing the (now floating) unconscious supersoldier by his wrist, only to pull the two of you along to safety – meaning the surface.

It was only a few metres to the oxygen your body so desperately needed, but you couldn’t fight the reflex to breath anymore.

Water filled your lungs and panic your veins. Your body wanted to flush out the water, but that resulted in you only breathing in more water. A vicious circle.

Black had started to enter your vision when air was finally reaching your lungs- the soldier had saved you.

Spluttering and coughing, you tried to give your body the demanded oxygen and get rid of the water.

As soon as your feet touched the solid ground, you wanted to slip to your knees- that was how exhausted you were, but the soldier wasn’t allowing it and so he was dragging you towards the shore alongside him.

Is he even breathing?

That thought flashed through your mind, when your eyes found the apparently lifeless body laying on the edge of the water. Concentrating your whole attention at the man´s chest, you pleaded to everything that might be listening for the man to not be dead. And your silent prayers were answered, ever so slightly you saw his chest rise, but also the blood.

Stretching your fingers, you tried to reach out and see where the blood was coming from exactly, but you were dragged past his body and into the underbrushes aligning the river. Away from the scene of the fight. Only now did you start to think about fighting against the man´s grip, but like he was sensing your change in demeanour, he turned around and gave you a cold stare that made every thought of resistance turn into cold air at once.

More often than not, did you lose your footing on the loose underground and after the forth or fifth time, he hoisted you over his shoulder, like you were weighting nothing. The further he got away from the crashing side, the more fear crept into your heart – he was taking you with him to do god-knows-what and there was nothing you could do about it.

Why me? What does he want from me?

His metal shoulder dug into your stomach and his metal arm was wrapped around your legs, securing you in place. Not seeing where he took you, you concentrated on not getting seasick, the way you were bopping up and down.

You had to admit though, that his backside was rather- Damn.

His muscles moved beneath your hands (you had put on his lower leg, to keep yourself from moving to much), even though he was dressed in thick leather.

Sticks slapped your legs and behind, before the man suddenly stopped and you could feel his head turning, like he was looking for something special. He must have find said something not a moment later, because he continued walking, his free arm moved, and you heard a car-door open.

“You will drive.”, he growled, putting you down and pushing you into the drivers- seat, only for him to sit down in the seat behind you. His metal hand rested at your shoulder, ready to strangle you should you do something stupid.

“To- to where?”, you asked.

“Out of the city.”

Part 2

What do you think? what should happen next?

As always, let me know what you think and thank you all for Reading!

Until next time :)

~MaggY :)

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[haeroniel-doliet]

gah another 5 am post eh fellas

fuck i really wanna do ballet. i really rarely become obsessed (if ever) with anything, but for once i’m so so so so soso wanting to do ballet. so bad. i know i might hate it bc im fucing not musical at all, so not in shape, so not comfortable or etc. but at least im 18,(wait fuck 19 now)  and not 45 trying to get in it all stiff and stuck and i think based on all the sweet positivity to adult ballet starters beginners and sure i wont perform professionally but fuck man i dont think i need that. i just want that grace and flexibility and elegance and gah itd be fabulous. i mean even now im pretending to look for turn out and walk around the house like they do in point shoes and i try fix my posture tothe advice by a ballet dancer youtuber who ive been watching so much of. i just i really wanna do it. 

saddest fucking thing is guys, that i could’ve had the chance to go to the fucking royal ballets adult absolute beginner classes. in london. i could have. fuck. u wanna know what happened? i found out about it like a month or two ago and was fucking psyched bc its one of those things that just is too good to be true. the best company in uk?? w adult classes? while im in london?? yeah id have to miss a few weeks bc. whoops i gotta go back up to do my exams,but i couldve at least done a few weeks, come back and done a few last so i’d have had the best opportunity to give this a go in the best environment and then have a kindling to go off with to other available ballets. and not start with some barely managing person in a shitty studio thing. idk. sure so i tell my parents so fuckin excited bc look! its possible! but yeah its expensive, wouldve been abt 90 pound w me being a student and id have to miss 3/10 classes. but still! thin of it gah its making me so sad happy. sad bc guess its now sold out. of fuckin course it is. i told my mom and she just was uhmm ohh i dunno i dunno, oh its adults i could do it, and thinking that maybe getting her involved would mean i have a better chance of going, dont care much for her company but if shed take it as a bonding thing hell, i’ll probably do better than her in class and minor confidence boost as well as if they all others are old old i wont be alone. and she could pass over what they learned when im up in scotland. Guess that was a fuckin mistake. she got all nervous and self concious and put it off with a we’ll see we’ll see about it im thinking. and making it a whole thing like instead of me wanting to go so bad and offering for fun that shed join me, as if im trying to pressure her into doing it and would only go along to make her feel better. uh.... fucking wrong! im so mad actually. bc of course, no matter how often i mentioned it she wouldnt take it seriously to even consider booking me in! no no of course not we’ll see. and then i check before im coming back, dreading and being right that yep. theyre fucing sold out. of course they are its such a fanstastic opportunity! my only fucking opportunity! when ever again am i going to live in london with weeks free to go participate in that? when ever again? never. theyre moving out of london this summer and fuck. just doing some research and the scottish ballet is in fucking glasgow. yes i was supposed to get there if i hadnt been so shit with studying for my exams. (sure i wouldnt be doing archery and wouldnt have all the other wonderful things i now enjoy in aberdeen but fuck its frustrating) and ofc. aberdeen seems to have: one shady dance company that offers ballet fusion. not adult ballet classes. another shady school that practices at robert gordons that have no website nothing. no info how to sign up or if they have adult classes or when its so stupid and weird. maybe ill have to contact them directly idk. sure my uni has a what seems to be a thriving dance society that i have a glitched out membership for. (its 50 pound a year and i have cerrainly not paid that) and i guess they do ballet on the side. but again from a glance around, looks its only intermediate. not beginners. dont think theres that many uni age girls who just wanna start ballet now. 

so it looks bleary. even in finland, i cant understand body parts in finnish so that might just be frustrating if i could even find a place that offers it. not that i’ll have long at all in finland. ill be there barely a month before heading back to uni and i come back holidays. if i wanted to take one of these eleven week courses, i think id have to geta fuckin liscence and a car and drive to glasgow 3 hrs both ways for a class once a week and that sjust stupid. im so fucking mad about this missed opportunity. like my muscles are itching and aching to do it. my legs want to work out in ballet positions. they just rly do. yeah maybe ill have to start doing barre at home from videos to try ease that, but its not gonna be the same and ill do it all wrong bc i have no teacher to direct me or anything. correct either. sure if i had done it and loved it i might still be mad that i have no opportunities to continue like i want to, but at least id have that expereince and could keep practicing at home based off of it.  i am genuinely upset okay. upset betrayed disappointed sad twitchy and ugh. sure tickets go on sale today to swan lake after exams. and by fuck will i go see it. and ill get all the background before it and know it inside and out before i see it (already kinda do) and i will love it. ill bemaybe more upset and more twitchy that i cant do it, that i cant be lie them and that rly sucks. i really really wish by some miracle the school would offer summer courses so that i could just, get myself after exams into one. also another frustrating thing not quite so pressing on my mind is how my dad wants me to get summer jobs, maybe even two. one here and one in finland. sure it should theoretically be easier getting it here, esp. since im 19 now and yeah. i could work in a cafe or store just to get money and have smth to put on a cv thats not 2 weeks. but i dunno i dont particularly want to, i was hoping in london i could get the most of it culturaly (considering ive been a pouting and sad whailer whos not done anything for the last two years) then again i have p much no friends here so if i did go work somewhere theres a slight chance thered be someone i get along with and could hang out w. or visit if i needa back in london. i dunno. things are weird. sure i could try get an admin job w nhs like some lady suggested but its one of those too much responsibilty things, consdiering im shit with work i kinda would prefer to do some physical job like stacking shelves in a shop bc im good at that. but thats not gonna help me in the future. money yes, but cv building or careers wise? nah. i should owrk in hospitality or smth i dunno even i can barely get thru my work to pass rn so  i dunno about job searching. im jsut a mess am i not. regardless maybe i should look if theres other ballet schoolsin london. be desperate, get a job and a ballet class going over summer and do art on the free time i guess. 

okay so fer now ive found a course for like fucking 156 pound thats a 2 day full days course that looks mad cool for having different classes to learn vocab and etc and then a bit of fucking swanlake like yooo.. best thing its in like july but thats also possibly bad bc its july 28-29 and july 30 we move out. man it could be cool tho. then they offer there as well a taster session p much every other week and then a full 8 weeks of class p near by to me. sure this is specifically taught by a man and id prefer a woman but, i guess. since its ideal timing and place. and i got wondering why thats 150 and the national ballet wouldve been abt 90 and i guess there i get concession and it wouldve been only 6 classes considering the dates they had off. i should rly ask if they do do concession bc 150 is a bit steep still. for 8 classes thats almost 20 pound for 75 mins. its kinda insane. theres probably more companies i havent looked at but there is one other thats like a drop in thing 10 pound cash each class and thats a 90 mins so it might be better. ofc. obv. fault being that its drop in so being an absolute beginner w likely a lot older adults idk how id fit in or keep up or get hte most of it. i think ill go try it once regardless. then when back in abdn ask around for taster sessions and beginner ballet. worst comes to worst i wait another 4 years till i get to a big enough city that they have a nice ballet company and somewhere i can live like an adult but also get in on adult ballet and enjoy myself. maybe my industrial placement city will have  a ballet company idk. 

all i know is that im a bit obsessed and everyone says to go for your dreams etc. and as much as i enjoy archery (slowly gonna dedicate to it) and aikido (though training can be frustrating and training with old men isnt that fun) and ice skating is another less of a dream but in the same realm as ballet. that im gonan get new skates for and give it a better try. i just think ballet could  be so fucking rad and im sad that its not so easy rn. and that my mom fucked me over. for that one course that couldve been cheap and amazing and mindchanging. to go to the ballet knowing what some of it feels like would be great. sure id love  a chance to do some after as well u know. ofc it sucks it might cost a couple hundred over summer to these hobbies and i feel iffy spending 180 on a quality waterproof jacket. sure. they spend it but, im v concientious and dont wanna spend much of their money esp cus im not making my own. i guess logically, i should put a bunch of effort to getting thru this term rly well without lies and get a sumemr job. that way, i could theoretically take loan from my parents  and pay back with summer job money w some left over to do as i like with (yeah i should save it for sensible shit but idk) also considering how nice i am my dad might not even want me to pay back. look i dunno. thats an idea. be good, be rewarded w ballet classes and an unstrained relationship w my parents, joyously move back to finland and start next term w a clean slate, hopefully more help and new determination into hobbies. maybe i wanna do 4 sports since i never did much as i was younger. tho sure, i did aikidos cousin taekwondo. ive shot a bow and arrow whenever i had a chance. ive skated since literally like 3 yrs old. and i used to take a form of dance a alot younger. sure no musicality but i think the exercises would be great for my knees and legs and butt and torso and posture. htese are fun sports since i dont like to work out. and since im not comfortable enough in myself to go swim. 

#ballet an hobbies and thoughts and lots of things. #honestly noneed to read

[ahnminhyk]

okay, so i have a lot of thoughts about william magnusson, as most of you are very well aware, and while i have been somewhat dormant on the subject of his character due to the unfortunate circumstances of him not being on skam anymore, recent events have led me to feel a need to flesh out my thoughts on his character and what i think people don’t seem to get about him, reducing him to a fuckboy and an asshole when really, his character is so much more complex than that.

i’m gonna put this under read more so as not to clog anyone’s dash, but i really want people to read this and try and understand this character better, so feel free to add onto this if you’d like or think i missed something

(disclaimer: this post isn’t meant to excuse or defend whatever mistakes he’s done. he’s done shit. they all have. it happens sometimes)

let’s start with his childhood and upbringing, shall we? so obviously we know that it wasn’t all that easy, though it could’ve been worse ofc. the most prominent point here has to be the accident that killed his sister. now, nico was 11 when he drove his stepdad’s car off a cliff with william and amalie in it. she was around 8 y/o if i’m not mistaken, that would make william about 9/10-ish. can you imagine what that must’ve been like? it’s really not that farfetched to assume that he has some degree of ptsd, survivor’s guilt or something similar. and even if he doesn’t, he could’ve died as well. at the hands of his brother. true, he was 11 at the time, just a kid, didn’t really know the magnitude of what he was doing. but we also see what kind of hold nico has over william. william knows what his brother is capable of. he knows what he can do. that makes him extremely vulnerable to nico’s exploits.

let’s also not forget his parents. not exactly stellar figures. that is one of the main things he has in common with noora and probably something that made him feel connected to her: he wasn’t the only one whose parents didn’t really want him. i’m not saying that it’s healthy or whatever, latching onto someone for that, but it’s perfectly possible and understandable. and the first thing that he tells her when he learns about her parents is that he can’t imagine anyone not loving her. now, i can imagine that he would’ve needed to hear that about him, too. bc really, who ever really loved him? his brother was manipulative and erratic; his mom pretended nothing was wrong and popped pills to help forget it was; his dad was off in london working all the time without a second thought about his son; his sister was dead. the only people i can think of that might’ve made him feel slightly wanted are the penetrators, but it’s not the same, is it?

anyway, this brings me to a point most william haters have been bringing up recently and that is that william shut noora out when he found out about her and nico. let me ask you something now: do you really think that his brother, the person who’s made his life hell since he can remember, who is manipulative and knows how to make people see what he wants them to see -- the same person who made noora believe he was off fucking some other girl while she was trying to figure out where she stood on their relationship -- would tell william that he might’ve raped his girlfriend? really??? i mean, just as he made noora believe william didn’t care about her, he probably made william think the same about her. we know he has abandonment issues. we know that he’s constantly afraid of the people he loves leaving. i speak from experience, it really wouldn’t be that hard convincing him of it. am i saying this is right or healthy? no, it isn’t. but it’s real. and in many ways, william is probably one of the realest characters on this show. he’s complex, he has problems. god forbid he feels insecure after a lifetime of never being wanted.

one of the things that never ceases to amaze me is how people say he’s abusive to noora. how? when? i can’t remember one single instance when he was ever abusive to noora. honestly, do you really think that sana of all people would support and urge noora to save her relationship with him if he was abusive? i mean, really. william loves noora so much. he respected her wish to keep their relationship a secret. he respected her decision not to have sex. he respected her when she asked him for space (and don’t say he pushed her when they were separated bc i KNOW you’d feel the exact same if you were in his shoes and the girl you love shuts you out). 

another thing i wanna bring up is that scene in 2x10 when william helps noora through her panic attack. i’ve mentioned it before but i’ll talk about it again bc to me, it’s one of the most real, raw scenes on the show and, when properly analysed, tells us so much about william as a person. so noora is having a panic attack, she feels smothered by the pressure of everything in her life at the moment. in comes william, and at first he thinks that the reason why she’s shutting him out is because she doesn’t want to be with him at all anymore (hello, abandonment issues again). but as soon as it becomes evident that that’s not it, he lets go of all his own insecurities and problems for a while to help her through it. now, imagine for a second this: william himself, growing up, alone and unloved, after the death of his sister which he was there for and saw happen, going through his own panic attacks. alone. with no one to help him. it’s not that farfetched to imagine. i mean, after everything that’s happened to him, it’d be weird not to have some sort of mental consequence (i mentioned the possible ptsd, but we have no evidence of that, so i’ll leave it to headcanon terf). he knows what to do bc it’s what he needed someone to do for him. he tells her that she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do. he holds her and promises her it’s gonna be okay, that she isn’t going to die. she falls asleep and he lets her sleep. he finishes her essay for her. he does everything he knows he can to help her feel more at ease. now, he doesn’t know all of what’s bothering her, but he doesn’t push for information. and when she wakes up, instead of letting her stay in and sulk, he urges her to go to her friends who he knows make her happy and can help her through whatever she’s going through. this is william in a completely selfless moment. he knows what she needs bc it’s what he needed, too. 

(this gets its own bullet point bc holy hell) when people say he manipulated her into going on a date with him i literally lose my shit. i mean, did we watch the same show? noora used his clear attraction to her to make him do something she wanted, and promised him a date in return. honestly, it’s really not even that strange a thing. he delivered on his end. and he didn’t ask her to be his girlfriend. he didn’t ask her to fall madly in love with him on the spot. no, he asked her for one date. ONE. and after that, he wouldn’t bother her again if that’s what she wanted. and in regards to the whole using vilde thing, that’s a mess tbh and it was fucked up and i’m not saying it’s right. but i mean, the “deal” happened in december (s1 finale). s2 starts in march or smth and she still hasn’t gone on that date. now, don’t tell me that she wasn’t interested bc if you still think that then you didn’t watch the same show i did. i mean, that look across the room? that’s not a look you give someone you’re not attracted to or dislike. at the very least, noora was mildly intrigued by william. and no one can tell me that if she had outright said she didn’t wanna go on a date with him seriously, he wouldn’t have backed off. which means (this is pure headcanon territory, but i’ll maintain it to my deathbed) that she kept him going, she let him hang onto that date until she was ready to do it. and ofc, he was getting tired of waiting; wouldn’t you? so he tried to force her hand. and that moment, she could’ve shut him down. he’d go on with his partying life, she’d go on with hers, end of story. she could’ve said ‘no, i won’t go on a date with you, stop trying to make me’. and another thing, you can’t tell me that noora, self proclaimed feminist who’d roasted his ass before, wouldn’t have put him in his place if she thought he was manipulating her or her friends. now that would be ooc (since some haters are so fond of saying noora being in love with william is so ooc for her)

now, i wanna talk about this whole london mess. first of all, what kind of a fucked resolution to this glued-together-with-spit plotline. mind you, i get why they had to do something bc of the whole thomas issue, but come on. anyway, let’s get into that for a second. noora went to oslo to testify against nico, but she couldn’t do it. understandable, nothing against her, i totally get it. but when she got back to london, she lied and said that everything went well at the trial. i get that she didn’t want to disappoint him or whatever (??) but you can’t come here and tell me that if she had told him the truth right away he wouldn’t have understood. i will refer you back to my first two points. william knows the kind of impact and influence nico can exercise on someone. he’s been dealing with this guy for twenty years, he knows. he would’ve supported noora in her inability to face him and testify. he WOULD. nothing can convince me otherwise. even noora says that when he found out the truth, he understood why she couldn’t, and i believe it. i believe that what upset him was the fact that she felt like she needed to lie to him about it. that she lied to him about the very real (and then realised) possibility of nico walking free. i mean, this is his kryptonite. his brother is his weakest spot. his biggest vulnerability. of course he’s gonna be upset about it. i would be too if i were in his position. so would everyone else, no doubt. i mean, is it really that hard to get his side? 

so he needed some distance, some time to process. just like noora did after he smashed that bottle on the guy’s head. he’d given it to her then, he expected her to do the same for him now. he understood that she’d been upset then, so he expected her to understand him now. he didn’t ask for space, but he clearly needed it. again, i speak as someone who has the exact same coping mechanism, sometimes you need to distance yourself from the people who hurt you or upset you. noora upset william by lying, not by not being able to testify. i mean, come on. but she couldn’t understand that he needed time and space to process, so she left. without a word. just left. now, let’s go back to william’s abandonment issues for a second. his dad left to work. he lost his sister when he was as kid. his mother left and remarried, got a new family. he’s been mostly alone all his life. he latched onto noora because he loved her and she loved him back, and he needed that. he’d made it somewhat evident before that he was so afraid of her leaving him out of the blue. and now she has. can you imagine how much that must’ve hurt? imagine coming home one night, expecting to find the girl you love, slowly coming to terms with something that rattled you greatly, and finding her gone, just like that? idk about y’all, but i would just be devastated. his biggest fear came true, and he must’ve just been beating himself up thinking he’d been a fool to think it wasn’t gonna happen this time.

and now we’re here. noora hasn’t even reached out to him for months. i’m sorry, but is it crazy to think that maybe william hasn’t reached out bc he thinks she doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore, bc he thinks that she left never to come back, that she doesn’t love him anymore? no, it isn’t. if it were me, i definitely wouldn’t even think about reaching out first. and we know that william isn’t the most open of people. he has walls up, walls that he tore down brick by brick for noora, and now they’re back up again. but you bet your ass he’s still in london thinking about her, loving her, thinking she doesn’t love him back. honestly, this is such a messed up situation and they’re both just a mess at communicating. it’s not the first time we’ve seen this kind of miscommunication with them or on skam in general.

there are probably a lot more things to be said, but this is all i can think of right now. again, feel free to add to this if you’d like. the point is, william is not some monstrous person who manipulates people and is a complete asshole just for the hell of it. he’s complex, he has problems just like every other character on the show, he was a teenager and he’s human. please, for the love of god, stop crucifying him for having emotions and feeling hurt or upset and dealing. make an effort to understand him, bc he’s such an interesting character tbh and i honestly feel really sad whenever i see people reducing him to his mistakes.

#skam #william magnusson #skam discourse #letwilliamlive2k17