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#he’s like get prepared for my tragic backstory fuckers!
minniiaa · 2 months
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After being handcuffed and carried around by Luffy like a sack of potatoes for 40 episodes Law re-emerges and hits us with these cool ass frames reminding us he’s NOT just a helpless princess and Dressrosa is HIS revenge arc.
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Quotes from “Twisted: The Untold Story of a Royal Vizier” as starters
But today could be the day I finally make a difference!
Where are you off to today, you no good piece of shit?
You’ve got to dream a little harder!
It took you long enough, you shit-eating dog.
Oh, so you think you're better than me just because you can read?
Just try to keep your fat face out of that motherfucking book.
Why am I the only one who sees things as they are?
Oh, ___, sometimes I feel you're my only friend in this world.
Today, things got a little out of hand and a lot of good people are dead.
Did we get the loaf of bread back?
Why do you even bother visiting us commoners anymore, you aristocat?
I sure hope you haven't goofed this one up, ___.
Tsk, tsk, tsk, look at this mess. Dead bodies in the street.
Did you know in this barbaric country they only give you money if you work?
Who would seek employment when life offers such enjoyment?
You're only in trouble if you get caught.
My father says that you must marry me now, or I'll bring dishonor to my entire family.
I can't give up on my dreams and settle down just 'cause your dad's being a dick.
‘Cause you stole my daughter’s hymen!
That’s completely fair, but in my defense - dude, your daughter’s hot.
My ass cheeks…they're hanging out.
And what's this? Blood. Blood on my ass cheeks. Tell me, ___, how the fuck did it get there?
Oh I am grateful for your tiny ass, ___!
This really is an act of war, ___!
Do not feed me shit and call it couscous, ___!
Well an hour free is better than a lifetime in a cage. Being fed and pampered and cleaned up after. What kind of a life is that?
When are you going to learn that your actions have consequences?
One of these days, you're going to learn that life isn't about dreams coming true. It's a series of compromises and disappointment.
That's supporting a corrupt system. You're a part of the problem.
I want everything, and more!
My secret is simple, really. Anyone could do it. I just follow the golden rule!
Always treat others like sisters and brothers and they’ll do the same for you.
I get back what I give!
My hunger blinded me and forced me to act like an animal.
But we're not animals. We're gifted with minds to reason and hearts to love!
I think that's enough fun for one day, eh, ___?
Well, we have our own golden rule here. Whoever has the gold…makes the rules.
The gold that my neighbor earns through his labor is gold I’ll never see.
So keep your mouth shut and your palm open, and you may just get...filthy stinkin' rich!
You could start by telling me your name.
I suppose this will be the end of me.
I am a servant to the people, and therefore your servant.
Magic does nothing if not touch the soul.
I want to know your story, I want to know your past, I want to know your future too.
Fill my days and nights with the tale of you.
I never cared for stories until you entered mine.
Let’s make ours the story with no end.
Their mouths aren't fit to hold a donkey's shit.
Many years ago, I took my finger…and I pushed in my penis…and it hasn't come out since.
A very wise and enthralling tale, ___. We can all learn a lesson from it, I expect.
Where's my opium?
Speak now, ___! And don't fuck it up!
Well, maybe I have a new purpose now.
That is what your story is about.
I wish I had the power to rewrite this tale.
Never stop wishing it, ___.
We will be reunited one day, and unlock wonders beyond your wildest dreams!
After all, I must be pretty great, if you believed in me.
I only hope you haven't fallen prey to some sex-crazed ruffian!
Right this way, babe.
This is so unfair! Poor people need slaves just as much as rich people do! Maybe even a little bit more.
Of course it's a free thinker like who's struggling to get by. And all because of our totally corrupt class system.
I hate the class system. That's why I said, "Fuck it, I'm never going to school again."
So, you abandoned everything, to be free? That is so brave.
Brave? Me? Yeah.
All my parents ever did was support me. Give me a place to stay, tell me they loved me, no matter what. They were really bad parents.
How's a thirty-three-year-old kid supposed to know how to survive on his own?
But that is not fair! ___’s a victim of circumstance!
Don't look at me like that! These are my orders from ___.
Wait, wait, what? You slit people's throats? I didn't tell you to kill anyone! This is awful!
___, no. That is just an expression.
I'm gonna have so much gold I could swim through it! Like a pool. Do you think people can really do that?
Once I get my mind set on a chick, I just can't move on until I get this nut out.
I can’t wait to be a rich dude!
Stealing is so much easier when you’ve got already tons of gold.
We’ll get our happy ending tonight.
We weren't sure if you were ever coming back, ___.
Everyone, look at my ass!
You received the manhood of a badger?
Those are stretch marks, they happen.
Oh, I see! You received the manhood of a tiger!
Did you hear that, lads? ___ made love to a tiger!
Tiger fucker! Tiger fucker! Tiger fucker!
I DID NOT FUCK A TIGER!!!
Am I not a thing of beauty? Don't you want a piece of this? Wouldn't you gladly give up all of your worldly possessions just to greet me when I come home from a one-sided massacre, and bathe my sweaty, bloody body with your tongue?
Oh…you. Aren't you busy ruining my life?
I noticed you weren't at dinner, but I saw you tried to poison my wine. Usually when you do that, it means you want to talk. What's up, are you mad at me?
You ripped my heart out and smashed it into a million pieces. And don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about.
He/she/they was perfect! Like if you cobbled together all the best features from all the best guys/girls/people, and then gave them a tragic backstory! It's like he/she/they was designed specifically to appeal to me.
I knew everything about him/her/them! He/she/they was my soul mate! My -- my -- God, I am freaking out, what was his/her/their name?
Believe it or not, I care about you.
I don't want to be prepared. I want to expect the unexpected.
Look, you're young. You don't exactly get how things work yet. And, while I don't appreciate any of your ideas, I do appreciate the fact that you HAVE ideas. Maybe one day you'll have some GOOD ones.
Sexual predators the lot of them! Their tactics target vulnerable, young girls, and build up false senses of trust and then isolate them on magic rides of sorts. And when the moment is right, they whip it out. You know... their songs.
Be wary of young boys who whip out their songs. A song is often a prelude to a dick.
A song is a dick in sheep's clothing.
Can't you see I'm trying to impart a life lesson?
I feel like you only come to see me when there's bad news.
I counted thirteen dead before the peacocks got to them.
How the fuck did you know it was me?
Because it IS you, you're just wearing different clothes.
Wow. Pretty AND smart. You're the whole shebang, babe.
Everything I told you the other night was a lie. Don't you trust me?
Ugh. Oh no. Okay, um, now I'm kind of feeling like everything about you that was attractive to me before isn't really there anymore.
No! No, I'm just being indecisive. It's still you.
I've just got to get back on that high that I was on before.
Look into my eyes and talk to me some more about the world's injustice!
Sure. Just let me roll this blunt first.
But I don't want her/him/they to love me. I just want her/him/them to fuck me.
You guys know there's a way to get people to think about sex without even talking about sex? You just gotta do it subliminally.
Hey, babe, it's such a beautiful night -- take off your clothes.
But…let me ask you this: is your penis an innie or an outie?
___ explained everything to me. He/she/they was just pretending to be a ___. For fun.
I bet the ___ is under that ___ sized hat!
Bullshit! Why would I pretend to be a ___? Just to get laid? That's not me.
Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! Why are you picking on me, ___? Afraid I'll reveal your little secret?
Whoa! I thought I was just bullshitting you guys!
What made me think that I could get away with such a plot?
How does the golden rule apply in such a situation?
Whichever road I take, I will only encourage someone’s wrath!
‘Til now I’ve always traveled down the straight and narrow path.
But which way do I turn when the road’s become so... so... twisted?
You think you know me, as others think they know you, but there are two sides to every story.
I was prepared for anything, except for what ensued.
They weren't ready for my ideas.
Fortune favors the beautiful.
My only crime was love.
But the heart wants what it wants, and sometimes what it wants, is twisted.
I only wished to reclaim what was mine!
I only wished for equal rights for all!
I only wished to save her/him/them!
I only wished to be invited to the party!
I only wished to improve relations between the races!
I only wished to teach ___ responsibility… so he/she/they wouldn’t end up like me!
I only wished to give the people a voice… To help the miserable, lonely, and depressed!
I never knew my father!
It's an unfortunate situation…But you do have a choice.
What remains of a man when that man is dead and gone?
Why protect my reputation? I’m a dead man/woman/person either way!
How will they tell my story? How will they tell my tale? Will anybody even care?
Is it nobler in the mind to be well-liked but ineffectual, or moral but maligned?
If I hide to save my life, what has my life been for?
The road ahead may twist, but I will never swerve!
I’ll give them all the unsung antihero they deserve!
I’ve nothing left to lose, to the only path to choose is twisted.
So let them twist my words, let the people scorn me.
Who cares if no one will ever mourn me?
Let them bury the side of the story that they’ll never learn!
Let the truth be twisted!
Let my life be twisted!
I’ll be twisted, it’s my turn!
Your armies have abandoned you. Your ruling class is corrupt and we have come to put an end to your tyrannical rule!
You'll never end our tyrannical rule!
It is I who will be doing the fucking today.
It appears that ___ has cold feet!
Yes I am talking to you! Now get your ass over here!
I've got to become a sorcerer! Can you do that?
Yes, I do feel lucky. I've got a ___! But I think he might be a fucking moron!
My fuse is about this long right now.
You either need to back me the fuck up, or shut the fuck up. Got it?
And what's the last thing you wanna do before that happens? Take off your clothes. That's right, have sex! Hurry, take off your clothes.
I'm not going to take off my clothes in the middle of a battle!
My skin is melting!
Would you stop acting like an asshole for one minute?
I'm not a tease. I'm just…not a freak.
You're making sex seem gross and lame.
You got that, ___? We are not a thing anymore, okay?
We're just having our first fight. Maybe after some make up sex…
You're the guy who killed my parents. Where have you been?
Okay, Jesus Christ, I don't know what's going on here.
That's the trick! You just really have to believe your own bullshit!
It takes someone who believes they can change the world to actually do it.
This isn't fair! Life is supposed to be fair!
Your youth and your passion, and yes, your naïveté -- these give you power.
When I was your age, I thought I could accomplish anything I ever wanted and more! But I didn't. Perhaps no one does. But you have to think you will or you won't have the strength to try.
Maybe you won't make any big changes, but a few little ones that pave the way for the next generation. And then they'll make small changes and leave it to the next and the next! It's a bit like a carousel of progress. Always spinning towards a great, big, beautiful tomorrow. And tomorrow is just a dream away.
But what if tomorrow never comes?
Tomorrow always comes. Even if it comes without us.
What will I do without you to guide me? When I am lost, where will I turn?
You remind me of someone I knew long ago.
You’re the one who put it there -- the power in me.
The power to love one another is the greatest power of all.
No matter where life leads us, we’ll never be apart.
Through thick and thin, success or ruin, I’ll carry you in my heart.
I will treasure forever what the world will never see.
You are kind, and that’s enough.
I wish you didn’t have to go when our story’s just begun.
Then I wish you every happiness.
It was more money than I had ever seen. But I was able to count it.
And that's the end of the true story.
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amazedforjjk · 4 years
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Black Crow - Yoongi
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Summary: It’s not often you stumble upon a handsome tied up man in your parking lot in the dead of the night. What adventures this mysterious stranger is going to embark you on?
Genre: mafia!Yoongi, angst, humor, a tiny tiny hint of fluff
Warnings: Strong language, violence, blood and injuries, mentions of abuse and torture, tragic backstory, snarky Yoongi
A.N: Black Crow is finally here!! I’m so excited for you guys to read it! I’ll go on a hiatus for about two weeks but I’ll be back, don’t worry! I already have a new story idea I’m excited about!! Please tell me what you thought of Black Crow, I love interacting with you guys!!
Word count: 14K
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10:43 pm
It’s pitch black when you step out through the big glass doors of your office complex and the only way you manage to put a foot in front of the other without falling on your face is thanks to your flashlight on your phone. Everyone is already gone by now, and you should be as well but your boss had asked you to stay later tonight, because that fucker isn’t able to prepare a powerpoint by himself. Fucking boomers and their inability to use a computer. You huff in frustration as your heels click on the ground. You try to readjust your tight skirt by pulling at the edge. You hate this office with a passion, from your boss to his abject dress code. You absolutely despise having to dress in a tighter than normal grey skirt along with dark pantyhoses and a white blouse just for him to ogle you and your female coworkers. Your scalp hurts from having to pull your hair in a tight bun everyday.
Your heels are so fucking painful after a day of working, your boss making a point of having you run around the open space for different files that he strangely doesn’t need merely five minutes after asking you for them. You are not his assistant either, so you shouldn’t have to do anything for his fat ass but he holds your career in his hands, promising you the position you aspired towards for the past year without ever committing to his word. You huff again as you try to find your car in the dark, holding your phone between your shoulder and your cheek while you rummage in your purse to find your keys. Your office’s neighborhood isn’t exactly unsafe at night but you’d rather be home as fast as possible.
Admittedly, no one’s waiting for you there, except your bed and a comfy pair of pants, but you still sigh in contentment when you find the button to open your car. You get in in a hurry, throwing your bag across on the passenger seat and starting the car up. You already feel more relaxed in your car, removing your painful heels to drive. Your ankles are covered in blisters for sure and the tight fabric of your pantyhose pressing against the tender skin makes you grit your teeth. You drive home in a hurry, certainly not very safely but you don’t seem to care tonight, still fueled on the rage you piled up inside you today.
It’s definitely not your dream job, but a writer’s salary doesn’t pay the bills, at least not yours. And it’s not that bad; Sure you hate everyone in this office but the work in itself is okay, and the paycheck is worth the trouble. It’s thanks to that that you are two steps from owning your apartment in the center of the city, currently reimbursing your loan from the bank. It’s also why you need that new position; Bigger responsibilities but a bigger paycheck and flexible hours, perfect for an aspiring writer. Most importantly, you’ll don’t have to do anything for your asshole of a boss anymore.
You park in your parking spot down your building complex, calming down as you retrieve your keys from the ignition. You sigh. Sometimes you think you let the rage of your job consume you because it masks the loneliness overflowing from you everytime you come back home. You shouldn’t feel that way; you are the one who decided to move thousands of miles away from your parents. You are the country girl who decided to flee her small town to settle in the big city. You are not the only one, most of your friends moved as well, but not to the capital and sometimes you feel really alone. Even if you live in an over crowded city you can’t seem to find people to talk to other than a therapist.
You sigh as you slip your uncomfortable heels back on, stepping out of your car with your bag. You don’t notice at first the grunts and sounds of straining as you close your door and lock the car, but when you do you still instantly. Your eyes scan all around you while you strain your ears to find the origin of the noise. It sounds like a man is struggling against something, huffing and puffing in frustration.
The parking lot is empty and dimly lit, which is not unusual at this time of the night. You grab your phone tightly in your hand. The screen reads 11:07 pm before you tap on the emergency button. You don’t call the cops yet, but you feel a bit more reassured now that they are only a phone call away. You tentatively step closer to the trunk of your car towards the sound, steadying your breathing to be as silent as you can. Surely the person making the sound has already heard you arriving in your car and knows you are here but the fear gnawing your stomach keeps you from thinking straight. You forget about your painful heels, the rage of the day and your loneliness to focus entirely on the sounds . You can tell the man is still struggling, grunts and curse words alike becoming louder.
The deep voice spits a “Fuck!” and a car two rows away from yours sways lightly as if someone pushed against it. Having finally located the source of the sound you approach the car slowly, only stopping when you are close enough to determine what’s happening. A man is sitted against the back door of said car, head turned to look at his hands behind his back while struggling so that you can only see his raven hair. From the rope tied around his shoulders, you gather that his hands must be tied up as well and that he must be trying, with no success thus far, to break free.
He doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet, and you take advantage of that to figure out what the hell you are supposed to do in this situation. You could call the cops, leave him in their hands and he’ll be fine. Or you could try to free him from his bonds, there’s no need to get the police involved if it’s only a bad prank gone wrong. You glance at the chains around his neck; a silver skull is on the biggest of them and you can’t help but gulp. He could be dangerous… Like a gang member? Who else wears chains and skulls nowadays? Or he could be in danger, you realize as you notice a big dark stain on his khaki shirt. Wait, is that blood?
You let out an involuntary squeak as the stain seems to get even bigger. Your eyes widen when you realize how much you fucked up and you bring your hands to your mouth as if it would silence you but it’s too late. At the sound the man snaps his head in your direction, his grey eyes instantly finding yours. His brows are furrowed in both frustration and surprise, making him look intimidating. What shocks you the most though is the huge scar coming from his forehead to his cheekbone. You can’t help but take a step back, your hands falling to your sides, revealing your gaping mouth.
His eyes scour you and his eyebrows relax when he seems to understand that you pose no threat to him, but he still doesn’t talk. He gets up from where he was sitting, using the car behind him for support, gritting his teeth together in effort. You take another step back and your rear meets the car behind you. He looks much more intimidating now; he isn’t particularly tall nor is he very broad but his stance makes him terrifying. Your instincts are screaming at you to run away, that he is dangerous, but it’s like you are glued in place, unable to move. It’s only when he winces in pain again, surely from the wound on his side that you regain your ability to form coherent thoughts.
He is tied up and wounded; The man’s not a lot of a threat for you right now. A kick in his groin and you should be able to get home without a problem. You gulp before breaking the silence.
“You are wounded… It looks bad” is all you can muster tentatively. Silence.
Wow, that was lame, you internally cringe. He simply cocks an eyebrow and a smirk appears on his lips.
“Yeah, no shit”
You stammer and you feel your face heat up. Unable to find a witty comeback, you just huff, crossing your arms on your chest.
“Look, you need help or not?” you say simply but that is enough to wipe the smirk off his lips. It’s his turn to huff before looking away from you and you wonder how he could seem so intimidating earlier. He turns around, not without difficulty, facing away from you in an incredible demonstration of trust, displaying his tied up hands and you warily step towards him.
“Don’t try anything, I have a taser in my purse,” you bluff, eyeing the ropes currently cutting into his chafed wrists. The ropes are bloodied and you question how long he was trying to break free for. His shoulders move up and down as he laughs.
“I’ll be good,” he says, his voice filled with sarcasm. You roll your eyes. He is way too sassy for someone presently tied up.
You start to tug at his binds, trying to find the knot to let him free. He grunts as you put pressure on the damaged skin of his wrists. You look up from his wrist to look at him. He is turned but you can see his strained face in the car window’s reflection. Now that you can see him from a closer perspective, he looks abnormally livid, eyes unfocused and panting. He looks like he’s about to pass out, you note. Wait, he is passing out! You barely have the time to catch him before one of his knees falters.
“Hey hey hey- Dude? Are you okay?” you ask, voice full with concern. He mumbles, quite clearly unable to talk. “Fuck” you curse under your breath. You’ll deal with the rope later, you need to treat his wound. You grab his shoulder, trying to get him to lean on you and you start to walk to your apartment complex. He doesn’t even try to complain, and you are grateful; It’s already too difficult to carry his weight in your flimsy heels, especially without a good grasp on him. The ropes around him make it difficult for you to hold him steady, and he almost fell a few times when you tried to get a better grip.
Your perfect bun is ruined by the time you reach the elevator, and you are panting from the effort. Who’d have thought having to drag a semi conscious man across a fucking parking lot would be so difficult? The elevator ride provides you with a break, and you simply keep him against the wall while you catch your breath. His face is lolling forward, chin pressed against his chest. He still looks white as a sheet and you start to worry. Was it really a good idea to bring him home? You are capable of treating wounds, that’s not the problem, but if his wound is too deep or if he needs a blood transfusion you won’t be able to do anything.
“Shit, I should’ve brought you to the hospital,” you say, mainly to yourself as you stare at the elevator’s mirror.
“NO!” he shouts, making your head snap to look at him, alarmed. He managed to lift his head to look at you, his grey eyes burning with a fiery determination. “No hospital,” he repeats, and you nod at him, disconcerted. He calms after your nod, his head sinking back down to his chest.
Entering your apartment was a challenge; You had to hold the black haired man against the wall with your side while you searched your purse for your keys. He almost fell when you found them and forgot to press into him against the wall to open the door. Thankfully for him you realised your mistake early enough, dropping both your keys and bag to keep him from crashing on the wooden floor. You are also grateful none of your neighbours decided to take a midnight stroll, or they would have seen you pressing a tied up and passed out man against the wall with your body while desperately trying to open the door. Hardly something you want to be remembered by.
You plop the unconscious man on the couch unceremoniously, forgetting for a second his wound. You wince when you realise your mistake, but thankfully the man is too out of it to make one of his snarky comments. You retrieve your first aid kit from the bathroom and take advantage of his state to treat his wound. It is not too deep so you are able to patch it up without having to stitch him up. You’ve never been so happy to have a nurse as a mother, having learned most of your healing skills from her. You conclude, relieved, that his passing out is mostly due to the shock rather than excessive blood loss, since he didn’t seem to have a concussion when he talked to you. Adrenaline must have kept him in a conscious state of mind until he realized you didn’t mean any harm.
You cut through the rope with a kitchen knife, taking the opportunity to inspect him for any more injuries. You treat his wrists with an antiseptic cream before bandaging them. He is not otherwise severely harmed, though he does sport some nasty bruises on his --surprisingly toned-- chest. What the fuck happened to him?
You sit back on the ground, facing him, when you finally finish your check-up. His breathing is steady and he seems to have regained a splash of color on his face. You take the opportunity to take a better look at him. His features are sharp though he does have a cute button nose and cute pink lips. You shake your head to chase those thoughts. What is wrong with you, checking out a passed out man?
You check for his temperature before sighing. You are incredibly tired, the day was already exhausting as it is, nevermind with this sudden encounter. You decide against putting away the kitchen knife, instead taking it with you to your room. You are nice, not stupid, and though you don’t feel in danger anymore, you are not the one to take unnecessary risks.
It’s already well past midnight when you go to sleep, knife under your pillow. You hope your guest on the couch will wake up early as you need to be up early tomorrow for your job. You’d like him to be gone as soon as possible, men like this only mean trouble. Sure you’d like to know a bit more about him, like how did he wind up in your parking lot at 11pm tied up and injured. But you know the saying, ‘curiosity killed the cat’, and you value your comfortable life too much to put it in jeopardy for a man’s backstory. Who knows what could happen?
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You wake up late the next morning. After a quick shower and almost falling flat on your ass trying to get dressed as fast as possible, you sprint out your room into the living room. The couch is empty and you smile to yourself. He’s gone. Good. It’s one less thing for you to worry about so you dart through the door, trying to make it in time before getting chewed out by your boss for arriving 3 minutes late.
You manage to sit at your desk one minute before the start of your shift and you sigh. Here we go again, another day of having to deal with dumbasses. Despite the fact that you woke up late, the rest of the day proves to be quite good. Instead of being his usual manipulative asshole self, your boss decides to ask you in his office to talk about your well deserved promotion, and tells you that an interview is set for you tomorrow in order to decide whether or not you should get the job. You spend the rest of the day on cloud nine, excastic to finally see your hard work rewarded.
You rush home after another hard day of work, sleep deprived and craving the comfort of your covers. It seems however that fate has other plans for you, you realise when you open the door to fall on last night’s guest. He was still here. Shit. He is comfortably seated on your couch, feet on the table while he’s watching TV. Eyes wide, you drop your bag on the floor.
“What the fuck are you still doing here?! I thought you were gone!” you shout at him. He nonchalantly eyes you up and down, smirking at your crestfallen expression.
“You locked me in this morning,” he answers simply. “I couldn’t open the door to get out.”
The way he pronounces these words without a care in the world leads you to believe he mustn't have tried really hard to get out. You bring your hands to rub your face, feeling anger building up within you. Who does he think he is?
“You have a nice place,” he says gesturing around him with his hand. “Also, you shouldn’t keep a knife under your pillow, it’s dangerous,�� he adds, brows furrowed in fake concern.
“You went in my room?!” you ask, clearly fuming. The nerve of this guy!
“Of course, I had to make sure I couldn’t find another exit”, he says, as if it was obvious. This guy is seriously getting on your last nerve, and you grit your teeth, trying to avoid exploding in his face. He seems to pick up on your aggravated state and his face becomes serious. He lifts his feet from the table, standing up to move closer to face you.
“Thank you for last night. I owe you a lot”
He bows slightly and it’s like your anger evaporates, making way for your curiosity to take over.
“Yeah about that… What happened to you last night?” His face hardens instantly and his whole body stiffens. He seems to ponder what to say for a while, obviously not quite ready to let you in on the situation.
“I can’t tell you--”
“I think you owe me that much” you retort, interrupting his refusal. He huffs and thinks for a bit more time.
“You’re right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I had... uh...  Some troubles... With a gang”
By the way he forces the words out of his mouth, you figure this is the most you’ll get out of him right now. It does make sense in a way, and you are now glad you could help him. You hum in acknowledgment and he seems relieved to know you won’t ask anymore questions. It’s his business anyway, and you already know enough.
“I figure that you need to lay low for a while, wrong?” you sigh, passing by him to go to the kitchen. He looks surprised but quickly regains his composure. He hums positively, still not quite sure where this is going. “It’s late, you can stay tonight as well if you want.” 
You don’t know why you are saying this. Inviting a stranger to stay for one more night? Are you going nuts? Are you really that lonely that you would invite someone --whom you met in sketchy circumstances, let’s not forget-- to spend the night with you? His response cuts the little voice in your head nagging at you.
“That’d be good, yes” and you turn to meet his eyes. His face is still serious but you can discern a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I’m Y/l/n Y/n by the way”
“Min Yoongi”
“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Tonight’s menu is take out,” you say, turning to face him completely, leaning on the counter behind you.
“I’m fine with that,” he says with a playful smile and you don’t fail to notice the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Did you say something funny?
You brush it off, instead focusing on ordering chicken fried rice and dumplings from your favorite chinese place in the neighborhood on your phone. Yoongi returns to focus on the TV while you order, and you take advantage of this to observe him. At first glance, he looks fairly nonchalant, without a care in the world, but the more you examine him, you notice the slight movements of his eyes whenever you make a sound. He doesn’t look uneasy, more like generally careful of you. In fact, it looks like he chose to sit where he could monitor you without you catching him, sitting at a certain angle so he doesn’t have to turn his head to watch you.
You gulp, suddenly feeling more on edge than before. Now that you see it, he seems more controlled than you would think, as though the very way he sits is meticulous; as if to convey that he is non-threatening to you, while still being able to act if need be. You can’t help but feel he might have downplayed his troubles, that type of behaviour does not match with a small lowlife’s who would just have “some troubles with a gang”. No, he knows what he’s doing, and has known from the very beginning, purposefully using sarcasm to break the tension and get you to help him. You don’t think he manipulated you into bringing him home though, that man was too passed out to manage that feat.
You grab the counter to ground you. Realising you just welcomed someone that appears to be dangerous and manipulative into your own home is not a great feeling. If Yoongi has noticed your sudden tenseness, he doesn’t let it show. He’ll be gone by tomorrow, you remind yourself, trying to calm your pounding heart. You feel like a prey stuck with a wolf in sheep’s disguise. But you are no damsel in distress, you’ll be just fine if you stay wary. Keep your guard up while not letting him know you figured him out. Guess you’ll be sleeping with a knife under your pillow tonight as well.
The rest of the night continues on fairly pleasantly. You do most of the talking during the night, telling him stories about your awful boss and your dream job. Yoongi is actually good company, listening to you with a smile, though you still feel that he contains himself. You purposefully avoid talking about his past or his job, not wanting to make a wrong move and anger him. The less you know the better. The atmosphere between the two of you is still somewhat tense, and you all but jump when the doorbell rings, announcing your dinner’s arrival.
He does seem to relax once his stomach full, even going as far to flash you a gummy smile when you lose balance and the empty take out boxes come crashing onto the ground. Granted, he was laughing at your clumsiness but you had a good time nonetheless.
“I need to be up early tomorrow, I should hit the sack,” you say while throwing out the take out boxes. “I’ll leave at 7:30 so you’ll have to leave at that time too”, you add and he hums in understanding.
You bid him goodnight before entering your room and as you are pushing the door a small “Thank you, Y/n” escapes his lips. You turn around and return his small smile. Is it just you or did this one seem sincere?
-----------------------------------------------
You don’t wake up sleep deprived this time around. In fact, you feel better than you have in a while. Is this the effect of having company for once? You scoff at your own thoughts before preparing yourself for the day. No, it’s of course because of your near new job interview. Yoongi is up and ready when you step out of your room to get your coffee, his wet hair sticking to his face.
“You want one?”, you ask him, pointing at the coffee machine. He nods and thanks you when you hand him a coffee. This morning feels a little awkward, you note. You are not quite sure what to say in this situation, and apparently neither is he because the both of you are just staring at each other while sipping your coffees, waiting for the other to say something. You also note the contrast between you too; him, wearing worn out grey jeans and an oversized khaki bomber jacket, and you, wearing a tight black skirt, an assorted suit jacket and an ironed white blouse. Once done with your coffee, you slip your uncomfortable heels and the both of you step out into the elevator.
It is finally time for you to separate when you step out on the street. You turn to face him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What to say? You are relieved when he starts talking first.
“Thank you for letting me stay, Y/n, I owe you one”, he says with a small smile.
“Well, two if we’re honest”, you answer with a smirk. He looks at you amused. You take a glance at your watch. “Alright, I should go, or I’ll be late for my interview. Goodbye, Min Yoongi”. You wave at him. You fail to notice the men coming up from behind him. You should have, you have never seen them before, and them sporting black clothes and heavy gold chains would have stuck with you. Yoongi does notice the ones coming from behind you though, his eyes widening. It’s far too late however, and he cannot reach you before he is grabbed from the back. You scream when you feel two pairs of hands on each side of you, maintaining you in place. Yoongi is trying to fight off his assailants but he is quickly overpowered, knocked out by a nasty blow to his temple. For your credit, your struggling gave them a hard time trying to contain you as well, scratching and kicking in every direction, but a hit in the face is enough to finally calm you, rendering you unconscious.
----------------------------------------------
You wake up face down in the trunk of a car. You can tell by the sound of the engine as well as the smell of gasoline. Your head hurts and you are disoriented. Everything is dark and you are cramped up in a tiny space, something soft under you. The haze surrounding your mind lifts instantaneously when you remember what happened before you blacked out. You struggle when you find out your hands and feet are tied up, but still at once when the soft thing under you releases an ‘ooomph’ sound.
“Yoongi?!”, you shriek. You immediately regret speaking so loud, cursing under your breath. Just because you can’t hear them in the car doesn’t mean they can’t hear you.
“Yeah..” he responds, voice strained, obviously in pain from the elbow you lodged in his ribs as you tried to move around.
“What the fuck is going on?”, you whisper-shout, anger boiling in your veins. You knew that man was trouble but you invited him in anyway. This is what you get when you don’t listen to your instincts. You hear him sigh above your head.
“Remember the gang I told you about?” he says tentatively, knowing you are only inches away from exploding. “Well, I killed their leader and they are not very happy with me right now.”
You can’t believe what you are hearing.
“And that’s ‘some troubles’ for you?! What the fuck, Yoongi?!”
“That’s really all that you take away from what I just said?”, he retorts in disbelief.
No, it’s really not. But right now, the fact that you are acquaintances with a murderer is the least of your worries. “Fuck”, you utter, hitting your head softly on his chest. The fear mixing with anger inside you makes it difficult for you to think. How are you going to get out of this mess?
“You seem awfully calm for someone who’s just been kidnapped, Yoongi”, you say against his chest, your head still a bit dizzy from the hit you’ve received from your kidnappers.
“This is not my first rodeo, sweetheart”
You scoff at his nonchalant response, but it somehow reassures you a bit. At least you are not alone.
“So, what’s your fucking plan to get us out of here then, cowboy?”, you ask, expecting a brilliant plan to get the both of you out of harm’s way unscathed and-
“I don’t know yet”
Were you drinking anything, you would’ve spat your drink in his face in disbelief. But you are not, so you decide to head butt him in the chest instead. Hard.
“Ow, what the fuck?”, he whisper-shouts, obviously surprised by your sudden violence.
“You got me in this mess dude, now you get me out of it!”
You are seeing red. Even in this kind of situation he isn’t serious, driving you crazy with his nonchalant responses. He is going to get me killed, you think to yourself.
“I’ve escaped once from them, I can do it again. They are not exactly the brightest bunch”, he says, and you feel him shift under you. “The sole fact that they took you with me is proof. Would you turn on your back please, darling?”
Though you don’t understand why, you comply without a complaint. The man is supposed to be used to this, now’s not the time to ask questions. You twist on your back with difficulty, not without purposefully elbowing him in the stomach once again, disguising it as an accident when he starts to curse you out. As soon as you are in position, you feel his hands feeling around their way to yours, reaching your binds in no time. You can’t help but shriek when the cold blade of what you guess is a knife touches your forearm.
“First rule of kidnapping, darling, always check the belt”, he explains while cutting through the rope attaching your wrists together with dexterity. You are free in less time that you need to say it, rubbing your chafed wrists in disbelief. You are impressed to say the least, and quite relieved to have underestimated your kidnappee buddy. He hands you the knife.
“Alright, now I need you to free our feet. With you on top of me like that I can’t do it”
You start to shift in the small space trying to bend in order to reach your feet, feeling as you go. You’ve never been the most flexible but you don’t pay mind to the pain in your lower back as you start to cut through the rope around his feet, a weird feeling of deja vu settling in the back of your mind.
“Wait… Is that MY kitchen knife?!”, you ask in an ushered yet still incredulous voice, recognizing the grip of the knife in your hands.
“Of course it is”, he says as if it was obvious. “Did you seriously think that I, a hit-man searched for by the most dangerous gang of the country, would leave anywhere unarmed?”, he adds after hearing your disbelieving scoff. His feet are free now and you start to cut through your binds.
“The most dangerous- What?! I thought you said they weren’t the brightest bunch?!”, you reply, incredulous, stopping to cut for a second.
“Well yes, I killed the brains of the gang”, he says matter-of-factly. “You done with the knife? Give it to me.”
You hand him back the knife, your ankles now free of the restraints. The car is still moving, and you start to wonder what Yoongi is planning to do. Best course of action would probably be to wait for the car to stop and the kidnappers to open the trunk, taking them by surprise.
This doesn’t seem to be what Yoongi has in mind however, as you feel him start to rip off the carpet on the floor of the trunk. Your eyes widen but you try to move over to the front part of the trunk, letting him space to go on his rampage on the carpet. Has he gone mad? Is this how you die?
“What the fuck are you doing?”, you ask him through gritted teeth. Now’s not the time to attract attention.
“I’m looking for the trunk release cable” he says flatly, obviously focused on his task.
“Huh?”
“It should be… Right about... Here!” He pulls on something at once and the trunk suddenly opens. Your eyes hurt from the abrupt surge of light and you shield your eyes. The car starts to sway dangerously, the kidnappers obviously as surprised as you are to see the trunk pop open. Your eyes don’t have the time to accommodate before Yoongi yanks you by your hand, making you crash in his chest, before jumping, effectively throwing the both of you out of the trunk onto the road. Thankfully, Yoongi had the presence of mind to jump at an angle, making you tumble into the sidewalk instead of underneath the wheels of the car behind yours.
You barely have time to register what just happened before Yoongi pulls you by the hand again. Everything hurts and you are not quite sure what just happened, but you follow suit, running after him. You discard the only heel left on your feet after your little acrobatic feat in order to be able to run properly on the sidewalk. You don’t even pay mind to the incredulous glares the two of you gather. Oh what a sight you must be, running barefoot in the streets, cheeks, hands and knees wounded, your clothes a mess and your previously done up hair flowing in the wind. There are not many people around, making it easy for you to run, but easy for your kidnappers to find you. The car must have stopped a few moments after the trunk popped open because men are running after you, screaming.
Yoongi makes a sudden turn in a narrow and dark alleyway. You want to ask him where he is leading you but you are too breathless to even say a word. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to keep going like that, especially since your feet are starting to hurt from the gravel and the shards of glass covering the alleyway. You keep on running anyway, somehow convinced that the man running in front of you knows what he’s doing.
The sound of a gunshot rings right next to your ears, the bullet embedding itself on the wall alongside you. You shriek as the sound brings you back to earth, and you start to run even faster, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Yoongi doesn’t even flinch, continuing to run, brows furrowed and eyes trained in front of him. You make a second abrupt turn, leading even deeper in the maze of alleyways of your city. This part of the town is known to be the headquarters of the criminal activity, so it’s no wonder you are completely lost here whereas Yoongi expertly proceeds through, leading you to an unknown place.
The deeper you sink in the maze, the more people you meet, and the more scared you become. Everything is so foreign and dangerous to you, and you grip tighter on Yoongi’s hand as he pushes through the mob. It might be a bit stereotypical but these people all look too intimidating to you, especially since you are running away from men who just tried to kill you. You should thank them really, since they help you escape, unbeknownst to them. The alleys are larger now, though still very dark, and your nose catches whiffs of grilled meat and other delicacies as you run past the shady food stands. You are a bit overwhelmed as you progress through the crowd; Your heart is beating in your ears and your mind is racing, unable to entirely make sense of what you are experiencing.
Yoongi yanks on your hand once again, beckoning you to turn in yet another alley. This one is distinctly smaller and emptier than the former, and Yoongi stops abruptly in front of a back door, letting go of your hand to pound on the dirty metal door. His pounding is insistent and for the first time he looks nervous, eyeing where you just came from warily. The door doesn’t seem to want to open despite his persistence and he starts to curse. Behind him, you are quite literally trembling with anxiety. Your heart is throbbing in your chest and you only just realise your cheeks are wet with tears. Have you been crying the whole time?
“Fuck Jin, open the god damn door!”, Yoongi shouts, fist thumping against the metal, startling you from your thoughts. The door finally rattles and opens to reveal a tall yawning man. His brows are furrowed in discontent and you can tell he is going to chew Yoongi out before stopping crestfallen upon seeing his state. He doesn’t even notice you at first, too preoccupied for his friend to cast you a glance.
“Took you long enough” Yoongi grumbles, quickly grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside after him, pushing past his friend who is still staring at him, mouth open wide. The latter sighs before closing the door without a word and following you. The doorway leads to a small living room with a kitchen in the corner lit up by a yellow light bulb. Yoongi lets go of your hand to sink on the couch, and you stay still, not quite sure what to do while Jin settles on the armchair on the opposite side.
Jin looks fairly angry, his eyebrows furrowed and his tired brown eyes shooting daggers at Yoongi. He passes a hand through his black hair, exposing his forehead. He is obviously waiting for Yoongi to explain, his plump lips pressed in a tight line when he realises his friend isn’t going to say anything.
“What the hell are you doing here and what happened to you?” is the first thing he says, concern not well hidden under the apparent annoyance in his tone. He turns his head to you and he shoots you a concerned look. “And who is she?”
Normally, you would have clapped back that she has a name and that if he wanted to know anything about you he could ask directly, but you are too shocked to say anything, still unable to register what is happening right now. He must sense what state you are in because he walks to the kitchen and offers you a drink. You accept it wordlessly, staring blankly at him and then at the glass.
“Well apparently, Wolf’s Fang did not appreciate me killing their leader and tried to kidnap me. Twice”, Yoongi replies with his usual nonchalance. You are happy to note that you are not the only one it drives crazy, judging by the look on Jin’s face.
“Wolf’s Fa- Yoongi, I told you not to approach them, they are trouble,” he says, jaws clenched in obvious annoyance as his friend shrugs. He sighs and turns to you. You can tell he is trying hard to conceal his anger, though the furiousness of his eyes betrays him. “You don’t look so good, sweetheart, you should go to the bathroom”, he tells you, pointing at a corridor. He doesn’t need to pry, you are happy to get away from the tension in the room, making your way towards said corridor.
The bathroom is small, covered in tile. You lock yourself in, slashing your face with cold water, eager for the haze surrounding your mind to leave. You might have a small concussion from your earlier acrobatic feat, along with the mild marks of road burns on the side of your head. You can still hear the argument in the living room between the two men, and you cut the flow of water to listen to the ushered voices.
“-I told you it was the worst idea you’ve ever had, I can’t believe you did it anyway”
“What was I supposed to do, Jin, let them get away with it?”
“It was twenty years ago Yoongi-”
“They killed my parents, I don’t really think there’s a ‘best before’ date on revenge.”
“That is not what I meant and you know it. Just because you are used to killing people doesn’t mean you can take on everyone, Yoongi. They were too dangerous for you but you still went away and killed their leader. I told you to wait and build a team but no, you couldn’t fucking wait, could you? I shouldn’t have told you.”
“It was MY revenge Hyung-”
“That’s why you involved the girl?” Your brows furrow, and you sit on the toilet seat, eager to know what they are going to say about you. Yoongi takes a second before answering, his voice calmer and you have to strain your ears to hear him.
“No. That- That was a mistake. She found me the first time I escaped and she helped me.”
“And that’s how you repay her, by implicating her in your shit?”
“No, I- I just wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t mean for her to get caught up in this.”
“Awww, little Black Crow didn’t want her to get caught in this” Jin retorts sarcastically. “Well guess what, fucker, because of you she’s going to have to hide from one of the biggest gangs in the damn city! I don’t even care that you bring ME into this mess, but you just had to involve an innocent person. I thought you despised that.”
“I fucking hate it!”, Yoongi shouts. “But it’s too late to change anything about that, isn’t it Hyung?”
You rise from your seat, having heard enough. You don’t want them to fight because of you, and you’re afraid you’ve spent much more time in the bathroom than appropriate. Having finally regained your senses, you feel the strain your chase has on your body; your muscles ache and your feet are bloody, shards of glass and tiny pieces of gravel embedded in your skin. You tiptoe back into the living, jaw clenched from the pain, trying to avoid putting too much weight on your feet as well as bloodying the floor. They both fall quiet when you appear through the opening of the corridor, eyeing you with concern.
You can easily guess what is going on in their heads. You are still very pale, and you seem weak, eyes still a bit unfocused as you lean on the wall for support. they must wonder how much you’ve heard, and how much of a problem you are going to be to them. You are a witness and you know what Yoongi does for a living - ha, puns- and though it hasn’t crossed your mind to call the police on them, they don’t know that. Finally, you still have a gang trying to snag you, and you don’t know just how much information your kidnappers have on you. They could try to use you as bait, thinking Yoongi must be attached to you in some way.
In conclusion, this is a mess. You’ve missed both work and your interview this morning and people are bound to ask questions about your whereabouts. You’ve always been the most diligent in terms of work, never taking a day off or arriving more than 10 minutes late. You obviously don’t have your phone or your wallet on you right now, having lost everything when you were kidnapped, and trying to go back to your apartment right now, without your keys on top of that, seems fruitless.
“How are you feeling?”, Jin asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence that settled in the room.
“Still a bit light-headed. I might have a minor concussion… I think. Also I need a first aid kit, if you have one please?”
“Sure, I’ll get you that. Sit down.”
You settle on the other side of the couch as Jin exits the room from the corridor. Yoongi hasn’t said anything yet but you can see hints of concern in his eyes. Similarly to you, his already scarred cheek and his hands are bruised because of the fall from the car, though he doesn’t seem to have hit his head -which isn’t surprising since, unlike you, he was expecting the impact. He moves closer to you on the couch to take your hands in his, observing the wounds on the back of your hands.
You are slightly taken aback but don’t say anything, an unexpected blush creeping on your cheeks. He seems too focused on your hands to notice your tenseness, and you are glad. What the hell is wrong with you? It must be the concussion, making your cheeks heat up, because it certainly can’t be the way his soft hands delicately hold yours- No! What is going on in this brain of yours?
“Are your feet okay?” he asks suddenly, and you squeak in surprise as his grey eyes find yours. He doesn’t comment on your reaction, and you are happy to not receive one of his snarky remarks.
“Not really, that’s why I asked for the first aid ki- Whoa, what are you doing?!”, you shriek when he grabs your legs to prop them on the couch. He sits at the end of the couch, grimacing as he takes in the poor state of the bottom of your feet.
“There’s gravel in there, I’ll have to clean it up--”, he starts.
“No- No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll do it myself,” you interrupt, slightly panicked. To be completely honest, you don’t really trust him to do any good. The man doesn’t exactly save lives, he takes them, and he doesn’t really strike you as the healer type. You think you are saved when Jin comes back and hands you the first aid kit, one of his eyebrows raising in a silent question as he reads the anxiousness on your face. Unfortunately for you, Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind your nervousness, simply snatching the kit from your hands and putting himself to work.
Turns out you were nervous for -mostly- nothing. Yoongi actually has a steady hand, and he removes all gravel and shards of glass in an instant and rather unpainfully. He does however make the mistake of spraying antiseptic directly in your wounds, which hurts like hell. He apologizes profusely, obviously distraught by your unexpected blood curdling scream while Jin laughs freely at his startled face. As he finishes bandaging your feet and Jin brings you hotel slippers to wear for the night. They are way too big for your feet but actually quite comfortable so you accept them with a smile.
You are set to stay low in Jin’s place for the day. It would be too dangerous to leave today according to both Yoongi and Jin, and the both of them decide that you would leave during the night.
“It’s at that time that the alleys are the more crowded,” explained Jin, “the less attention you draw, the better”. That is a kind of logic you can get behind, especially since you can barely walk - let alone run if anything goes wrong.
Yoongi advises you to sleep when he notices your eyes getting droopy, and he leads you to a bedroom. You sink on the bed in exhaustion, your body suddenly refusing to carry you anymore. You feel sleep enveloping you as Yoongi starts to leave the bedroom.
“What’s going to happen after we leave?” you ask sleepily, barely keeping your eyes open. The question stops him dead in his tracks, and he turns to face you, a serious look on his face. He ponders for a little while before answering you.
“I’ll bring you to my place and we’ll find a way for you to go back to your life,” he responds, eyes earnest and you hum sleepily in acknowledgement. Satisfied with the answer, you let yourself slip into an easy sleep.
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You wake up a few hours later, with an empty stomach but an already clearer head. It takes you a minute to remember exactly what happened to you and where you are, feeling dejected when you realise it wasn’t just a very realistic nightmare. It’s all his fault, you realize. Your life was going well before you decided to help Yoongi - well, before you were manipulated into helping him is more correct. Even if you despise your job because of your boss, you still enjoy your little routine. Working during the week to pay off your loan, writing during the weekend or enjoying your free time. Sure you were alone most of the time and you longed to meet new people, you still liked your quiet life. It was all supposed to come together today once you’d get that promotion, but no, that had to be ruined for you. One thing is certain: once all of this is over, you don’t want to ever hear from Min Yoongi again.
You decide to limp to the living room, the rumbling of your stomach prompting you to seek sustenance. Both Jin and Yoongi are in the living room, Yoongi sleeping on the couch while Jin is busy on the phone looking out the window near the kitchen. His brows are furrowed and he looks deep in thought, making you reconsider asking him for food right now. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you entering the room and sitting on the armchair, and you take advantage of this to stare at him in tranquillity.
It makes no doubt for you now that Jin is also a very dangerous man. If his earlier behaviour wasn’t particularly intimidating in any way, the man barking at the phone in front of you  exudes a deadly aura. He is quite obviously trying to resolve the mess his younger friend put himself -and you- into, calling multiple people and furiously scribbling on a notepad on the counter in between calls. He seems to know exactly who to contact, calling people back to back, until he slams his phone on the table, sighing in exasperation. He takes his head in his hands and sighs again.
“Jin?” you ask tentatively, and Jin’s head snaps in your direction. His dark eyes immediately find yours, and you gulp, intimidated by his intense glare. When he realises it’s just you, his features soften and you feel yourself being able to breathe again.
“Do you have something I could eat?” you ask after he beckons you to speak with a hum. He nods, making his way to the cupboards. He rummages through them and you settle on a stool behind the counter. Jin doesn’t look satisfied as he pulls out a cup of instant ramen and he shoots you an apologetic smile. “Ramen is fine,” you assure him, feeling too hungry to fuss over the quality of the meal. It actually reminds you of your student days, living off ramen, coffee and the sheer will of escaping your parent’s house. Granted this is not how you envisioned your future, running away from a gang with your new friend Yoongi the murderer, but you longed for adventure, right?
Well it’s not like you have much of a choice anyway, you remind yourself as Jin sets the meager meal in front of you. You must pull a crestfallen grimace because Jin laughs at you and you dive in, eager to hide the embarrassment creeping on your cheeks at his windshield wiper laugh.
“Who were you calling?” you ask with a mouth full, keen to change the focus on him rather than you. He rests his elbows on the counter across from you and he tries to find his words.
“People who could help resolve the situation,” he answers simply.
“Right… ‘Resolve’” you say with a sarcastic smile. The only way to ‘resolve’ the situation, as Jin says, is surely to take out the gang altogether. It is obviously weak at the moment because of the loss of their boss, and it’s the best time to strike.
“We need to ensure your security - that is, unless you believe you can do it alone?” he retorts, raising one of his eyebrows in defiance. You scoff at his smirk.
“Of course not.” You pause. “Thank you for helping me,” you add earnestly after a second.
“Don’t thank me, thank Yoongi. He’s the one who asked me to help you. Apparently he owes you”, he says dismissively, returning to the kitchen to throw away your no empty ramen cup. You swallow with difficulty. Of course he’s only doing that because he owes you, what did you expect? Both of those men are hardened criminals, though you don’t exactly know what Jin dwelves in. It would be foolish of you to think that neither of them is protecting you out of the goodness of their hearts. They are not as naive and generous as you are, and Yoongi could easily have left you to die had you not saved him earlier.
No wait… This is because of him that you are in this mess, of course he has to fix this situation!
“Anyways,” Jin adds as he comes back to face you, “Yoongi is going to bring you to a safer location and then he - along with my team - is going to sort this mess out. And then you’ll be good to go, as if this never happened.”
He emphasizes his last words with a dark fixed gaze on you. You gulp at his sudden change of demeanor from casual to threatening. You know exactly what he means by that; You’ll have to keep quiet about what happened, or else. You nod a bit too eagerly, suddenly intimidated by him. This seems to please him however, and he smiles at you, obviously content that you understand the true meaning of his words.
You spend the next hour or so abstently watching TV from the armchair while waiting, Yoongi still happily slumbering on the couch. There isn’t much more to do than wait, and you are bored out of your wits by the time Jin decides Yoongi slept too much and hits him with a rolled up magazine to wake him up.
“What the- What was that for?!” Yoongi indignantly asks, rubbing his head, his still sleepy eyes shooting daggers at the elder.
“It’s time for you to move” is all he says before he leaves the room, not even paying attention to the string of curses Yoongi sends flying his way. You chuckle at his indignation and he shoots you a dark look, amusing you even further. He sighs before chuckling too and he rises from the couch to stretch his limbs. Jin comes back to the living room with a backpack he chucks at Yoongi. The latter catches it effortlessly before sitting back on the couch to rummage through it, taking out a gun and observing it, checking the magazine in a swift motion.
“You might need that,” Jin says, leaning back against the kitchen counter and Yoongi thanks him. You eye warrily the weapon; You can’t say you feel particularly reassured with this. You’ve never been one to like firearms, and the sole fact that you were shot at earlier today reinforces your apprehension. Yoongi seems to sense your tenseness and he hands you your kitchen knife. You look at him questioningly.
“It might be too early for you to use a gun, let’s stick with things you know for now,” he explains with a knowing smile. For now. You can see Jin’s eyebrows furrow in the corner of your eyes but you don’t comment on his choice of words, merely nodding in understanding. There’s also a pair of grey sneakers in the bag, which Yoongi throws your way. They are too big for your feet but this is the best you are going to get so you don’t complain. You are now set to leave and Yoongi beckons you to follow him through the corridor. There’s a back door that you hadn’t noticed after the door leading to the bedroom.
Yoongi reaches to open the door and stops, taking a look at you. You are opening your mouth to ask him what’s wrong when he suddenly removes his jacket to throw it around your shoulders.
“You’ll attract too much attention otherwise” he says, and he slips through the door. You follow him into the alleyways, clutching his jacket to cover you more, hiding the knife in your hands under it.
The alleys, much like Jin explained, are more crowded than when you arrived. You are significantly less scared than before, focusing on following the man in front of you instead of observing the people around you. Yoongi is leading you through the crowd, eyes scanning the mob looking for potential threats. Jin had advised you to leave separately but it just wasn’t possible for you to navigate through this maze alone, and you are grateful to be with Yoongi right now.
People don’t seem to pay much attention to either of you and you are able to reach an underground parking lot safely. Yoongi had made sure you weren’t followed before reaching for keys in the bag. He presses the button and the lights of a car a few rows from where you are flare up. Yoongi grabs your hand and leads the both of you to the black car, letting you get seated on the passenger side before unceremoniously throwing the bag on the back seat.
The car is surprisingly nice, a black Mercedes with tan leather seats. You squeak in surprise when Yoongi makes the engine roar as you are attaching your seat belt. You don’t even have the time to say anything before he slams the acceleration pedal, leaving the parking spot like a mad man. You grip the armrest in a futile attempt to feel safer, not quite at ease with Yoongi’s aggressive driving.
You can tell he is a good driver, expertly avoiding the few other cars as he speeds down the highway, but you can’t help your heart from pounding in your chest. You’ve never been this fast on the road, and the happy glimmer in Yoongi’s eyes everytime he goes faster doesn’t exactly reassure you.
The only positive aspect with him driving this fast is that you quickly arrive at the destination. You are surrounded by tall glass buildings, and you furrow your brows. This can’t be where Yoongi lives, can it? It doesn’t make sense. Yoongi parks the car in another underground parking structure, and you step out of the car with wobbly legs and a confused expression plastered on your face. You don’t even have time to ask the first of the thousands of questions swarming your mind right now before Yoongi makes his way towards an elevator.
Unlike you, he seems perfectly at ease as he waits for the elevator, even smirking at your bemused face. The ding of the elevator makes you step out of your thoughts and you start to stammer as you follow Yoongi inside. He presses the button going to the 37th level.
“You- You live here?!” you ask, incredulous as the elevator starts its ascension. He shoots you another smirk, his eyes playful.
“What, you think I kill for the sole pleasure of it? Of course not, I’m not a monster, Y/n.”
“I- I don’t--”
“Hitman is a relatively high paying job, I’ll have you know,” Yoongi explains in fake seriousness, obviously reveling on your confused state of mind. You raise one of your eyebrows in defiance at his words, eyeing him up and down as if to prove a point. He isn’t exactly dressed as someone who makes a lot of money. He scoffs at your attitude, and he crosses his arms on his chest.
“Hey! I like these clothes!” he says in indignation and you roll your eyes at him. The elevator stops and the both of you step out of it. “Anyway, nobody knows about this place so we’ll be safe here,” he says while walking to a door at the end of a corridor.
“Nobody?” you ask as he opens the door.
“Not even Jin. It’s a safe measure. I don’t know where he lives either. No one in the gang does. That way, if someone gets caught, they won’t be able to tell where the others are.”
He opens the door and enters his apartment. You take a second to look around you. His apartment is big and modern. The walls are painted white, contrasting with his dark furniture. In the back of the apartment is a huge window, providing an incredible view of the city. But the view is unable to distract you from the many questions swirling in your mind; How many people has he had to kill in order to pay for a place like this? The place you were at just earlier wasn’t Jin’s home? The gang? What is going on? Yoongi must notice your confusion -- maybe because you are still on the doorstep, staring around with a gaping mouth -- because he sighs and starts to explain further.
“We were not at Jin’s. It’s one of our safe places all over the city. There’s always at least one member there, and this time it was Jin’s shift and I knew he was going to be there,” he starts explaining.
“Wait wait- You are in a gang?!” you exclaim, eyes wide. The more you think you know about Yoongi the more lost you get. It wasn’t bad enough that he is an assassin, he’s also part of a gang?
“Would you please come in before shouting those kinds of things?” he retorts through gritted teeth, ushering you inside and closing the door. You sink down on the leather couch and stare in the void, still not quite able to process everything. You should have seen it coming if you are really honest, but it seems that you find yourself to be in an even bigger mess than you thought everytime Yoongi tries to explain himself.
“Yes, I’m in a gang. I’m an assassin. Jin is the leader’s right-hand man. More than that he is my friend,” he says, eyeing you warrily and holding his hands up in a defensive stance, as if scared you’ll explode. If anything, you should be the one to be scared, you think to yourself, especially since you can’t understand why he would say that. Perhaps it’s because you are aware of what would happen to you, would you ever try to say anything to anyone. Not that anyone would believe your story anyway, or that you would risk telling anything to anyone. You shudder when you remember Jin’s hidden warning. Yoongi lowers his hands as you seem to have calmed down and he sits across from you on a leather armchair.
“I talked with Jin about taking down Wolf’s Fang. I’ll leave tomorrow to deal with that with other members of the gang. Then you’ll go back to your life”, he explains nonchalantly. For some unknown reason, his last words set you ablaze with rage.
“What life, Yoongi? You ruined that, remember?” you spit at him harshly, rising from your seat. He looks completely taken aback by your sudden outburst. You had made sure not to let show how much you resent him for dragging you in this situation; You needed him to fix everything, and shouting at him that it’s all his fault surely wouldn’t help your plans at all. But you snap because of his nonchalant attitude. He destroyed your chances at getting your promotion, having to go no-contact. He put you at risk of getting kidnapped and then shot, even though he knew he was himself in danger.
“Aren’t you an assassin, aren’t you part of a gang? Didn’t you know you would put me in danger with you?” you shout at him, pointing at him aggressively to emphasize your words.
“I didn’t mean--” he starts, but you interrupt him. Anger is bubbling inside you and you can’t contain it anymore.
“You knew you were putting me in danger but you stayed anyway!”
“You were the one who said I could lay low at yours!” he retorts, rising from his seat. You scoff at his irrelevant argument and he immediately cringes at his poor wording.
“I didn’t know you were an assassin and a gang member! I would’ve thought twice about letting you come into my life if I knew I’d get kidnapped!” you spit, your jaw clenched in anger.
“I didn’t want this!”
“Well I sure hope so!”, you scoff, hands rising in the air in disbelief. “But what did you seriously expect, huh?” You try to chase away the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Now is not the time to cry.
“I know I should’ve left you!” he starts in anger but his voice breaks and he looks away. You look at him in confusion. You are not used to seeing vulnerability in him. Granted you don’t really know him but this feels out of character for him. “I just- I didn’t want to be alone,” he says, voice pregnant with emotion. You are taken aback by his sudden openness, brows furrowed and mouth gaping in confusion. He still doesn’t look at you, and you don’t manage to say anything, too lost to be able to utter a word.
He passes a hand through his black hair and sighs loudly. The both of you are standing awkwardly, you staring at him and him making a point of avoiding your eyes. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, anything, but you are left utterly speechless. He scoffs darkly before walking towards the back of the room to a kitchen.
“Anyway, you’ll be safe tomorrow, and you’ll be able to leave.”
Yoongi exits the room and you are left alone with your thoughts.
---------------------------------------------------
You decide to sit on the floor in front of the big windows, enjoying the unending view. It must be one in the morning, and the streets are empty, apart from the odd car driving down the road every once in a while. The sight is calming, as you see the few lights still lit up in the night. Your apartment is not exactly downtown so you don’t have a view as nice as this one. Everything is so silent, so still. You know exactly why you are staring so intensely at the view, trying to chase any thought of Yoongi.
You are definitely calmer now but you don’t want to think about him, trying to bottle up any emotion deep down. You’ve never been one to have a healthy relationship with your feelings, and you are not going to start now. Most of your resentment is gone now that you finally confronted him about it, but your last exchange only left confusion. Confusion on what he was talking about, but also on why your heart squeezed so painfully when you saw him so vulnerable or when he walked away from you. You bring your knees to your chest.
In a way, you can understand where he is coming from. You let him stay and threw all care in the wind also because you were feeling lonely. Perhaps both of you were weak at that moment. Surely he should have been more careful, but you don’t blame him as much as you did before.
You hear a door open and close but you don’t move from your spot, keeping your eyes trained on the view. From the corner of your eyes, you see Yoongi sit cross legged next to you. The both of you stay in silence like that for a bit of time, watching the horizon before you decide to break the silence.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you like that,” you say softly, turning your head to look at him. His grey eyes meet yours. They are definitively warmer than before, and you feel reassured.
“Hmm. I just hope the neighbors didn’t hear you scream,” he answers with his usual snarky grin. You shoot him an apologetic smile.
“Yeah, that might be a problem in the future.”
He doesn’t look too concerned, shrugging and leaning back on his arms, stretching his legs as he takes in the view in front of him. One question still plagues your mind, and you can’t stop it from spilling from your lips.
“When you said you didn’t want to be alone earlier, what did you mean?”
He doesn’t look taken aback by your question, and he turns his head back to you, sitting up straight.
“You ever wonder where I got that from?” he says, pointing to his scar across his right side. You nod positively. “When I was six, my parents were attacked by a man and his small gang. My father was a rich accountant who refused to work for them, and the leader of the small gang took offence. One night, they raided my house, torturing and killing my mother in front of his eyes, and they planned to do the same to me.”
Yoongi pauses, staring at his trembling hands, and you regret asking him such a personal question. It is obviously a very difficult subject for him, but he resumes talking before you can say anything.
“Apparently, the neighbors heard the commotion and called the police as the leader carved a line across my eye, so he decided to kill my father and to flee. I was placed in an orphanage for boys. During that time, I met with Jin and 5 other boys. We all grew up without being adopted, and one of the other boys, Namjoon, decided that we needed revenge on life. We started partaking in some pretty illegal stuff, and our little group grew. We were seven at first, and now we are the most powerful gang” he says, a hint of pride in his voice at the last sentence.
“For more than twenty years I searched for the people that killed my parents, and Jin is the one who finally found them. It was the leader of Wolf’s Fang, a rival gang, and I decided that I waited enough for revenge. I made sure he felt tenfold the pain he inflicted my parents.”
Yoongi’s eyes are dark as the night now, contrasting with the paleness of his skin under the moonlight. An aura of dangerousness is radiating from him, and you can’t help but feel intimidated.
“But when I finally killed him I felt so empty. What was there anymore?” he adds with furrowed brows and he stares at his open hands. “I got what I wanted. I lost my edge that day. I had nothing left to fight for, or at least I was convinced of it. They found me easily, I wasn’t even trying to hide. But I remembered that they already caused my family too much pain, I wasn’t going to let them cause more. If I were to die, it wouldn’t be by their hand. So I escaped. And that’s when you found me”
He turns to face you, his eyes back to their warmth, making your cheeks heat up.
“I guess I just needed a stranger to take care of me a little,” he concludes, smiling awkwardly at you.
A comfortable silence settles between you while the two of you enjoy the view. Something seems to have lifted from Yoongi’s shoulders, he looks much more relaxed than when you entered his appartement. Maybe because he told you everything, the whole truth, and that he doesn’t need to hide anything from you.
You don’t know how much time you spent in silence together, enjoying each other’s presence before you start to feel tired again. You haven’t really slept that much yesterday and all the tension from the day vanishes, leaving tiredness in its wake. A yawn escapes your lips. You don’t even know why you lean your head on his shoulder but you do, perhaps too sleepy to even realise what you are doing. Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind thankfully, and he leans his head on top of yours. You fall asleep like that, and you don’t even stir when Yoongi lifts you up to place you on his bed before joining you.
--------------------------------------------------
It’s well into the morning when you wake up. It takes you a minute before understanding where you are, your heart racing a bit when you realise you are alone in an unknown bed. Yoongi must already be gone, you realise when you walk into the empty living room. It’s already 12 am so you decide to head to the kitchen in search of something to eat. After your meal, you take a shower, taking some clothes Yoongi left for you this morning. You can’t help the blush creep on your skin as you realise he thought to leave you clothes just before leaving to take down a gang. The clothes he left are too big for you, an oversized t-shirt, a sweatshirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, but you enjoy the cozyness --and his smell on the clothes-- too much to complain.
The rest of your day is spent waiting. You start by exploring every inch of the apartment, trying to discover more of Yoongi. Unfortunately for you, you don’t find anything except one photo, hidden between two books. You found it by error, accidentally knocking a row of books on the desk. You instantly recognize two people in the photo, Yoongi and Jin. They seem much younger, barely adults. The others seem much younger, and your heart twists. These boys are too young to be in a gang... You turn the photo to inspect the back and you find an inscription.
“Birds of prey - 2013
Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook”
The seven of them are looking in defiance at the camera, as if they have something to prove. You sigh before placing back the photo.
By the time seven rolls around, you can’t help but feel a bit worried. Is it normal that he’s been gone for so long? What if something has happened to him? What are you supposed to do then? You decide against pacing, choosing to sit on the armchair across the door instead, knees to your chest as you wait for his return.
When the door finally opens, you spring from your seat. Yoongi comes in while limping but as soon as his eyes fall on you, a warm smile erupts on his bruised face. You are too preoccupied by his disheveled state to return his smile, instead coming to his side to help him walk to the couch. He stops you in your tracks with a raise of his hands.
“Don’t worry, someone already took care of me. I’m all patched up,” he reassures you, and a bit of tension eases from your shoulders. You sit on the armchair as he settles on the couch. He can tell that you are dying to know what happened, seeing as you are practically buzzing across the edge of your seat across him.
“It’s over,” he states simply at first and you let out a sigh of relief. It’s finally over? It almost doesn’t feel real, as if these past days were just a dream. “We took care of most of the members, and Namjoon ordered some of our men to make sure the rest join them soon”
“That means I can go home?” you ask excitedly. You could have sworn you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes but it left as soon as it came.
“Yes, of course,” he says, “I could drive-”
“But first, we need to celebrate our freedom,” you interrupt him with a smirk. He is surprised at first, but soon returns your smile.
“You’re right, let’s order some takeout for tonight”
You spend the evening eating and laughing. You are happy to finally see Yoongi relax completely with you, able to tell you stories about his life. You now would like to meet the rest of the boys in the photo, first and foremost to thank them since they were part of the team that took out the gang, but also because they sound funny in Yoongi’s stories. They all seem closer to a family than most of the conventional ones, and the fact that they are gang members doesn’t really scare you anymore. They are Yoongi’s friends, after all.
By the time you finish your meal and a movie, it’s ‘unfortunately’ too late for you to go home, and Yoongi advises you to stay just one night more. Seeing that you’ve done the same for him, he has to return the favor, he explained, and you happily oblige, perhaps a bit too ecstatic to be able to spend more time with him. It’s funny how fast you’ve come to trust this man and enjoy his company, even though you are aware of his profession.
This time, it’s him who falls asleep first, head leaning on your shoulder while watching a movie on the couch, and you decide to put him to bed. You chuckle at the feeling of deja vu when you lead him to the bedroom, supporting him as he limps his way to the bed. You pause for a moment after he sinks on the mattress; Where are you supposed to sleep? On the bed with him? On the couch? You are about to step out of the room when a hand catches your wrist.
“Where are you going?” he asks groggily, eyes barely open to look at you. You smile at him.
“Nowhere” you answer, and he closes his eyes back, his hands slipping from around your wrist as a reassured smile creeps across his lips.
You settle on the other side of the bed, careful to still put distance between you. You turn on your side to be able to face him. He is peaceful like that, and you smile to yourself as you brush away the stray strands of black hair covering his eyes.
The next morning passes rather quickly, mostly due to the fact that you sleep off most of it in Yoongi’s arms. After a rather flustered waking up, and an awkward breakfast, the both of you decide to get you back to your apartment. You need to swing by your office first, as you need to retrieve your spare apartment keys in your locker. If you were previously warry to go back there and face your boss, you don’t even care anymore. You’ve almost died for fuck’s sake, what can he possibly do that will scare you. If anything, he will be the one to be scared if he dares to say anything, Yoongi assured you, making you smile.
This time, he drives rather calmly and you are grateful for that. First of all because you don’t want to die in a car crash, and secondly because the longer the ride, the more time you can still spend with Yoongi. He is more silent than usual, a sullen look on his face. You can understand him, for some reason you aren’t exactly the happiest at the prospect of going back to your previous life, to your stupid job and your stupid boss, and more importantly to your empty and lonely apartment.
Maybe some of Yoongi’s nonchalance rubbed off on you, you think to yourself as you stroll inside your office building, wearing oversized sweats and followed by a scary looking man with a scar across his face. You don’t even stop to answer the questions the office bitch sends your way, shutting her up with a dark glare. You’ve never liked her, she always took credit for other’s work, so you don’t feel guilty for scaring her. You go straight to your locker, Yoongi still following behind you. You are thankful for him being with you, you are sure you wouldn’t have the same confidence without him.
You are rummaging through your locker and retrieving your things when a furious voice interrupts you.
“Y/l/n! Where were you? You’ve missed almost a week of work! It’s unacceptable-”
A week? What a joke, it’s only the third day you’ve missed. Anger starts to bubble inside you. You’ve never missed a day of work before, and this asshole makes it as though it was a regular occurrence, not an ounce of concern in his annoying voice as he shouts. You tune him out as you continue to search for your stuff, and you ignoring him only seems to infuriate him more - and you love this. You’ve suffered his abuse too much to pay anymore attention to him, and when you finally find your keys, you slam your locker door, shutting him up instantly.
You turn around to face him, reveling on the look of absolute shock written on his face. The once so soft spoken and respectful employee is so disrespectful now. You notice Yoongi glaring daggers at him, jaw clenched, and you are thankful that he doesn’t say anything. This is your moment.
“Listen asshole, I’ve had enough of your shit. So stop harassing me or I’ll make sure you won’t ever be able to open that mouth of yours again,” you spit coldly. He stammers, trying in vain to say anything. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Also, don’t even dare try to complain about me to HR or the police, I have enough proof of workplace abuse to get you fired in a second. I’ll be back to take the rest of my stuff,” you add, glancing around in the office to find every pair of eyes on you. Satisfied with your little outburst, you leave, prompting a smirking Yoongi to follow after you.
It’s only in the car that the frown on your face lifts instantly and you burst in laughter with Yoongi.
“That felt good,” you confide with a playful grin. He returns your smile, his eyes twinkling with something that looks like awe and pride. The car ride to your apartment is already more cheery, the both of you laughing at the looks on their faces when you exited dramatically. You’ve dreamed of doing that more than once, and it seems that Yoongi gave you enough confidence to stand up for yourself this time.
The realisation that it’s goodbye seems to dawn the both of you when you enter the elevator. Your heart squeezes in your chest as the elevator gets closer to your floor. This can’t be it. You have to do something. The door opens on your floor and you step out after Yoongi.
He follows you to the door and waits as you turn your key in the lock. Thoughts are swirling in your brain; Will you be able to see each other after this? Does he even want to? You turn around when the door is finally open. You don’t know what to say, and your racing mind isn’t helping you trying to figure out a way for him to stay with you. He seems nervous as well, biting his bottom lip as his eyes avoid yours.
“Thank you… For keeping me safe,” you say meekly, cheeks heating up. His smoke colored eyes meet yours.
“Of course Y/n, you saved me first,” he responds softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. He does have pretty lips. So pink, and they look so soft. You don’t even realise you are staring at them until they come closer. Wait what? You snap your eyes to Yoongi and you meet his gaze. His face stops only inches away from yours and you feel your whole face burn, and your heart beats at a thousand miles an hour. He is right there in front of you, so close that you can feel his hot breath tingling against your skin, yet he is not close enough for you.
You crash your lips against his in impatience. It feels as though you’ve been waiting for this for your whole life, feeling so right to be in his arms. The kiss is full of passion, his tongue sneaking past your lips to find yours. His hands grip on your hips to get you closer and you practically melt in his arms. Everything feels so hot, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, your hands entangled in his hair. You breathlessly pull away from his kiss to grab him closer to you, flushing his body against yours. He hastily closes the door behind you and his lips resume their assault on yours. Let’s just say that you stayed together in more ways than one that day.
------------------------
Meeting Min Yoongi was maybe the best mistake of your life. Sure, you got kidnapped and shot at, you lost your job and had to hide from a powerful gang with an assassin, but you’d do it all over again just for him.
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Thank you @minty-joonie​ and @wwilloww​ for helping me proofread!
I hope you liked it!! Please tell me what you thought of Black Crow!!
💜
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magioftheseas · 4 years
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What’s your opinion on each of the sdr2 boys? you don’t have to answer but I’d like to hear it so if ya want...
Well, since you posted how you feel about the SDR2 girls’ writing, how would you rank the SDR2 boys’ writing?
Oh man, one of these asks is so old but you’ll forgive me, right?
So, I’ll do both of these!!! The ranking btw is for the writing not personal feelings which I hope comes across because even if a guy’s at the bottom, that definitely doesn’t make him the worst boy!!! I swear! I SWEAR!!!!!!
Good Tier
Kuzuryuu - Definitely the most solid with development and everything. Wish it wasn’t piggybacking off of fridging Peko (and his sister), but ngl I’m always kind of a sucker of the shitty tough guy learning to mellow the fuck out, and I like Kuzuryuu also being like...probably the most mature of the characters, which is sad but also funny. (Overall opinion is that he’s good! Very good! Definitely worthy of Best Boy title if he’s your type!)
Komaeda - My boyyyyyy. Super intricate and interesting with a worldview that’s both simplistic and complex. I love him so, so much. And his attraction to Hinata is humanizing! Love that! Unfortunately, he’s still super demonized and having that happen to your character who is explicitly mentally ill is super uncool. Also, while I do like how and why he decided to die, I don’t feel like that death was worth him getting cut out and used as a prop for Nanami. If he had been kept alive, it would’ve been way better and less urghhhhhh. Or we could’ve, should’ve had more introspection as a result of the impact his character had, similar to what I wished for with Mikan. But, nah. Fuck changing your view as the result of being challenged, I guess. (Overall opinion is that I would die for him.)
Kamukura - Is being included because yes. He only appears briefly, but what’s there is just so interesting and good! He’s an empty person who is only driven by spite and revenge against those who wronged him, and yet it’s also implied that deep down, he doesn’t want to die. It’s so sad! But intriguing! His motivations are clarified in dr0 (such as the fact that he was framed by Junko for the murders of the student council, but also with the added implied bit that even HPA was prepared to kill him in order to cover their ass), but even so, it’s so deeply tragic that Kamukura was made for the sake of ego (both Hinata’s ego and the ego of HPA), and he found himself getting used which lead to him willing risk his existence to take down everything in one fell swoop despite that not being a guarantee. Wahhhh. (Overall opinion is that it sure is a shame WE DON’T SEE HIM EVER AGAIN, not counting TDP.)
Could’ve Been Okay But URGH Tier
Hinata - My other boy. He sure is the other boy. In all seriousness, Hinata *is* probably my personal fave of the protagonists even if I think the Naegis are better written. I love his conflict of having such a severe superiority complex that he’s willing to throw out everything about himself in order to live up to it. I love how his desperate need to prove himself is, like, to himself. He’s so self-centered in such interesting ways. Unfortunately Nanami is his prop and is given the emotional brunt of forcing his development, which sucks. (Overall opinion is that he’s definitely Kodaka’s self-insert but it’s free real estate when writing fics so he’s MY SELF-INSERT NOW.)
Twogami - THE BEST ENBY. Twogami was such a good character with several layers of tragedy and tbh they’re a major reason why it’s great that no one actually dies in sdr2 besides Nanami. There’s something about not having any identity to call your own so you try to be someone important but like...it’s painfully obvious you aren’t that person because you have strong morals and a good heart which powerful people often don’t have due to detachment and corruption. It’s something I can relate to. And as a character, that they gave their life to protect Komaeda was so heartbreaking. It’s such a good thing Twogami isn’t actually dead! Sadly though we do have issues with the writing because fat character obsessed with food, haha, but... I mean Twogami’s the only one like that in dr and Owari’s the same way for the same reason so I guess it’s not the worst...still iffy though. (Overall opinion is that they’re good! However due to being the first victim, they’re not given a LOT of complexity and what complexity they have doesn’t hold a candle to bby girl Sayaka Maizono but I mean they’re still a good character for what’s there.)
Just URGH Tier
Tanaka - Lmao, unpopular opinion alert but I just don’t think he’s very good! For one thing, he’s kinda...barely there for the longest time. He’s even the only character who has zero speaking lines in the first scene with the entire class. There are at least a few scenes where he contributes very little to the conversation. In general, he has little to offer until about Chapter 4, in which he makes up lies about how totally important he thinks survival is when that wasn’t really a major concern of his before and I’m PRETTY SURE he stole that from Nidai anyway. Super annoying but like, hey. At least that romantic subplot was okay. And, sure, if you like this character type, you could do worse. You could also do better. (Overall opinion is that I like his hamsters but that’s about it.)
Teruteru - He’s absolutely the most loathsome fucker that deserves more shit kicked out of him than any amount of sympathy, bUT... This is about writing, not about likability, and like, he’s written...okay. For one thing, his creepiness isn’t excused nor elaborated on, thank fucking god. But as for what’s actually there, it’s at least something. He’s got actual character traits that could potentially make him interesting, such as his shame about his background despite clearly holding a lot of love for it. Like, that’s a good internal conflict to have. If that was all there was, I’d be pretty partial towards him, especially with his design being very cute. Alas.................... (Overall opinion is that Kamishiro’s better.)
Souda - The comic relief for dgrp tends to be mean-spirited and of the guys, Souda is more comic relief than character so he tends to be a fucking asshole and a creep. It’s a shame because his backstory’s sympathetic but the dude has like, no character arc. He’s just...lucky in that he wasn’t killed. He also kind of forces himself into the social situations, namely with Hinata and Sonia which isn’t really cute when Souda doesn’t treat either of them that well. If you like his character type, eh... You can do much, MUCH better when it comes to bro-y kinda abrasive best dude friends. Again, you can do worse, but those are usually romantic comedies not like...whatever dgrp is. I don’t think I’d say that I hate him though. He’s just frustrating. (Overall opinion is that I think Yosuke Hanamura is more what this character should’ve been like.)
Nidai - I do adore Nidai but it’s so obvious that the writing doesn’t give a shit about him. It’s pretty painful. He’s inconsistently portrayed too, because sometimes he’s a compassionate and surprisingly perceptive guy who encourages others to push past their potential. Other times he’s a bumbling oaf who barely considers others because it’s more comedic. Any depth he could’ve had is often just relegated to shit jokes, figuratively and literally. Even his FTEs are painfully repetitive. Sucks, man. (Overall opinion is...me just sobbing.)
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doggirldick · 3 years
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📌💔🏳‍🌈 for dragon quest!--Sour
okay so i went a little overboard with infodumping so let’s throw in a read more
📌 how did you find your hyperfixation?
dq9 got localised in 2010, it got advertised on tv so that’s where i first heard about it. for my 12th birthday in 2011, my dad took me to a gamestation and let me pick out any 2 ds games. i remembered thinking dq9 looked like the sort of game i really wanted to play so i picked it up.
it ended up being one of the best games i’ve ever played and i took my ds everywhere and played it at every opportunity. i thought i’d check out the rest of the series at some point, but i picked up a 3ds when pokemon x and y was around the corner and it faded into the background until i forgot about it.
until 2019 when suddenly hero got announced for smash and in the reveal trailer, they showed his final smash at the end and there he was... my son...
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i cannot sufficiently express the emotion i felt seeing this boy for the first time in however many years it was.
so i did what any person who’s probably autistic and/or has adhd would do. played dq1-6. bearing in mind these are like 100 hour jrpgs (except 1 and 2 which are maybe 20 and 60 hours respectively) this went on from may-october. then i exhausted myself and took a break. (went back to hyperfixating on mega man in january).
in may this year i decided to replay dq9, unfortunately, it’s such an expansive game and on ds so they had to limit it to 1 save file per cartridge and there’s no way i’m erasing my 700 hour save, even if the hero has my deadname. so i played it on an emulator. it was as good as i remember (a lot darker than i remember too, people die a lot in that game). this kicked me off on a return hyperfixation, i played the remaining games
💔 tell us about one of your LEAST favorite characters and why you dislike them.
okay, this is a little controversial bc i believe he’s a fan favourite, but i think terry from dq6 is a colossal asshole.
terry is this fucker who shows up a number of times when you’re about to find some great, powerful sword and takes it for himself. or you go to slay a dragon in some tunnel that citizens of a nearby town need to use to survive and you run in to find terry slaying it already, not for the town but just bc he needs to get through.
as you’d expect, his selfish desire for power leads him to siding with a demon and you’re forced to fight him (i say forced. if they had made it optional i still would’ve chosen to). after you beat him and then the demon, the demon flees and terry’s left wounded on the floor. he tells you to leave him to die and i so wanted to but ugh it’s then revealed he’s one of the party members’ brother, they had a tragic past and i guess that explains why he is the way he is but it sure as hell doesn’t justify it. you have to take him in your party 🙄
despite being one of the most powerful party members, i took that fucking sword off him, dumped him at patty’s party planning place, and never used him.
i supposed the things he did aren’t as bad as i make it out to be but, it’s like your rival in pokemon, at least in gen 1 where he just shows up and annoys you all the time.
for the record tho, i’d like to say marcello from dq8 is also a huge bastard (actually come to think of it he is literally a bastard, that’s his backstory) and just corvus from dq9 like “oh no i thought i was betrayed, now i’m going to stew in hatred for 300 years then kill god, replace him, and prepare to kill everyone” okay chill the fuck out man
🏳️‍🌈 do you have any headcanons (lgbt, race, neuro, etc) that are important to you?
in almost every media hyperfixation i have, i will find a female character i identify with, i will headcanon them as trans and bi, and i will ship them with another female character.
in dragon quest, it’s serena and jade from dq11. it’s serena i identify with. as for jade’s sexuality, i’ve seen a few people headcanon her as a lesbian which works for me :)
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takaraphoenix · 5 years
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Listen. I was fully prepared for a Tragic Backstory the first time I laid eyes on Trafalgar Law and decided “Yep. This is gonna be my second fave character, right next to Ace. He has a large polar bear on his team and a cool hat and a weird power and also a good dynamic with Luffy. I’ma keep this one”, because tragic backstories is literally the main focus of this show.
Seriously. Everybody and their mother got a tragic backstory, and this ain’t even an exaggeration. You will actually end up with a detailed flashback to every single character you meet and see their tragic backstory and their mother’s tragic backstory.
That’s genuinely why I love Once Piece so gods damn much because it really makes you care about the characters, it goes more than just one extra mile to fully flesh out even the minor characters you know you will only see in this here one arc and then never-ever again. But they will be completely fleshed out, they will be fully individual, with their own personal motivation driving them and you will know that motivation.
Now, all of that being said literally nothing prepared me for this.
Trafalgar D. Water Law.
Water... Law...? You fuckers really basically named your son Waterloo? Between that and the yellow submarine he’s driving, I feel like his own personal soundtrack is rather wild...
But he really really really did that. He really put the D. in Trafalgar Law. I did not see that one coming. Damn.
Law could have ended up like Kidd, who we barely catch a glimpse of like every hundred or so episodes for a reaction shot, considering both were introduced in the same way and yes of course did I immediately go OT3 with Luffy who do you take me for.
I latched onto Law. Immediately. And I was fully prepared for Law to get the same kinda importance/fate as Kidd ended up with.
Instead, here I am, having witnessed:
Law traveling all the way to the War of the Best just to save Luffy’s life,
Law actually doing just that,
having Law then show up to start the first-ever pirate alliance with Luffy,
Law traveling exclusively travel with the Strawhats for the past 100+ episodes now
Law having been chained up and carried about by Luffy for surely what constitutes 40-ish episodes
Law’s Tragic Backstory of the death of his parents and sister and entire fucking country
I was prepared to love a minor background character that I might or might not get to see every 200 or so episodes or maybe on the cover of a chapter in a “Where are they now?” scene and to never actually learn shit about him. That was what I was mentally prepared for when I decided that he would be my newest fave.
Instead I managed to fall in love with not just an important player, no, with a major player - and just to make it really very official, Oda-san really went there and slapped that D. onto him.
And I’m just gonna be a happy squealy fangirl for the rest of the week, if you’ll excuse me.
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nickireadstfc · 7 years
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The Foxhole Court, Chapter 4 – And If You Kindly Look To Your Left, You’ll Be Able To See Shit Getting Real
In which I start captaining the Kandreil ship, Orange Sportsball steps up its game, Neil pulls a Son-Goku and then I proceed to lose my shit because wHAT THE FUCK.
Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Foxhole Court.
Okay so first of all, WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL. WHAT THE SHIT JUST HAPPENED. I LEGIT JUST PUT THE BOOK DOWN AND I AM STILL YELLING AS I TYPE THIS. I WAS NOT PREPARED.
But let’s start at the beginning.
           “Kevin’s on the List,” Nicky said. When Neil frowned, Nicky explained. “It’s a list of celebrities we’re allowed to have affairs with. Kevin is my number three.”
           Neil pretended to understand and changed the topic.
When will Neil stop being #relatable.
Also, one of my besties had a list like that with her last boyfriend! 10/10 would recommend.
Also, who are Nicky’s number two and one because I’m dying to know. Michael Fassbender? Taron Egerton? Michael Clifford? Patty Walters? Zac Efron?
Ah no, sorry, that appears to be my personal list. Got that mixed up.
(You can’t tell me Nicky doesn’t want to bone Zac Efron though. There are only two types of people (who are attracted to men) in the world: People who want to bone Zac Efron, and people who are lying.)
Moving on to our favourite murder son, Andrew, who appears to have exactly zero fucks to give about Exy. No one is surprised. However, he does seem to give a few fucks about Kevin.
Or give them to him? Because this is where the shipping bells started ringing in my overly imaginative brain… which turned out to be not so overly imaginative after all.
           “Stop staring at Kevin so much. You’re making me fear for your life over here.”
           “What do you mean?”
           “Andrew is scary territorial of him. He punched me the first time I said I’d like to get Kevin too wasted to be straight.”
…………. honey, das kinda gay.
My heart already started moving down well-lit, shimmering Kandrew Lane, however Andrew comes out of nowhere and points me back towards more promising pathways:
           Andrew caught Nicky’s jersey in one hand and threw him hard up against the wall. (…)
           “Hey, Nicky,” Andrew said in stage-whisper German. “Don’t touch him, you understand?”
           “You know I’d never hurt him. If he says yes-“
           “I said no.”
           “Jesus, you’re greedy,” Nicky said. “You already have Kevin. Why does it-“
           He went silent, but it took Neil a moment to realize why. Andrew had a short knife pressed to Nicky’s jersey.
Holy shit. That’s not even simple gay, that’s full-on three-way relationship shipping opportunity gay. Did I say Kandrew Lane? Fuck that. We’re going straight down fucking Kandreil Boulevard.
Also, let me correct myself. Andrew points me back towards more promising pathways with a knife. Holy shit?? What?? Who gave this messed-up murder maniac a weapon???
And Messed-up Murder Maniac is actually kind of abusive, which worries me.
           “That’s not okay,” Neil said, pointing at the door.
           “That’s nothing,” Nicky said.
           Neil caught his arm as Nicky passed and hauled him to a stop. “Don’t let him get away with things like that.” (…)
           “That was my fault.” Nicky said. “I said something I shouldn’t have, and I got what I deserved.”
Tumblr has led me to believe that Andrew is a smol gay emo son, not someone who would almost stab his friend and makes him feel guilty about it later. When do we get to meet the soft grunge version? When he’s off his meds?
As someone with friends who actually depend on mental health medication to live regular lives, I’m not really feeling this whole “meds are bad meds make you psycho and give you fake happiness blah blah” crap tbh.
On a more cheerful note: More Orange Sportsball! Cheerful for us, not for Neil, as Kevin and the Gang have made it their personal mission to – what’s the term? Ah yes, completely fuck him up.
First, Kevin sets up a death match that’s pretty much Neil vs Everyone, and then he makes him fire penalty shots at a malicious Andrew (yes, that scene) that fuck up Neil’s arms more than Iggy Azalea fucked up rap music.
But Stubborn Protagonist isn’t giving up, ho boy: Cue a Dragon Ball-style training montage, starring Sore Muscles, Impossible Standards and Determination in the leading roles.
(Now I’m imagining Neil as Son-Goku, complete with snazzy orange uniform (at least he’s used to the colour already), hiking up and down wonky stairs carrying piles of rocks. Fanart, now.)
Then, one night, Neil catches Kevin and Andrew having some wonderful boyfriend alone time at the court which he, of course, decides to join in on.
This is the point where we are once again reminded of what a dramatic little fucker Andrew is: His trademark accessories are bandages that have sheats built in for knives that he just wears on a daily basis. HOW ARE YOU SO EXTRA HOMBRE.
           “Why do you hate this game so much?”
           Andrew sighed as if Neil was being purposefully obtuse. “I don’t care enough about Exy to hate it. It’s just slightly less boring than living is, so I put up with it for now.”
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Not even MCR’s debut album was this emo.
           “Isn’t it fun?” Neil asked.
           “Someone else asked me that same thing two years ago. Should I tell you what I told him? I said no.”
*cough* Kevin *cough*
*cough* it kills me how much those two are alike *cough*
          Andrew’s smile was small and cold. “You be something. Kevin says you’ll be a champion. Four years and you’ll go pro. Five years and you’ll be Court. He promised Coach. He promised the school board. He argued until they signed off on you.”
I’m………… dying………... I’m not even fucking trying this ship sails itself.
           “Your loose ends aren’t adding up,” Andrew said.
           “I’m not a math problem.”
           “But I’ll still solve you.”
Real smooth, homie, real smooth.
As much as I’d like to linger on the wonderful shipping currently unfolding before my eyes, we do have actual plot to get to: IT’S NEILLY BABY BACKSTORY TIME FUCK YES.
We learn aboute the absolute fucking tragedy that is his mom’s death, bleeding out on a lone beach in California and teenage Neil having to burn her and immediately having to hit the road again, not even able to mourn properly.
What the hell. As much as I like to make fun of him for being Extra and Dramatic, I get the feeling that it’s absolutely valid knowing what he’s been through (and the others as well, probably.)
And as this was all sad and tragic and stuff, I thought we’d be done with the backstory reveals for today.
Boy, was I wrong.
           “I warned Andrew he was going to come for me. I told him!”
           “It doesn’t matter. You signed a contract with me.”
           “He could pay off my scholarship in a heartbeat. You know he would. He’d pay you off and take me home and I-I can’t go back there. (…) I should go now, before he has to come for me. Maybe he’ll forgive me if I go back. If I make him hunt me down any more than I have already he’ll kill me for sure.”
What. What is going on. Who’s gonna kill Kevin.
           “Shut up,” Wymack said. “You’re not going anywhere.”
           “I can’t tell Riko no!”
RIKO. We’ve heard of that fucker before.
In the words of our lord and saviour Han Solo: I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
           “How much did you hear?” Wymack said.
           “Kevin’s having a nervous breakdown,” Neil said. “I don’t know why.”
           “Edgar Allan put in a transfer request with the ERC and it was approved this morning. They’re party of the southeastern district effective June 1st”
So the Ravens and the Foxes have to play against each other? Although this is a nice twist, it’s also standard sports drama plot technique, no surprises so far. What’s the catch?
           It’d been heard enough facing Kevin in Arizona. How could Neil risk meeting Riko too? Just because Kevin didn’t remember Neil didn’t mean Riko wouldn’t either. Neil didn’t want to find out the hard way if Riko had the better memory of the two.
WAIT, so Neil has shared history with Riko too?? Makes sense considering that Kevin and Riko used to be inseparable until a few years ago, and they most likely met when they were kids. Still, didn’t think about it that way.
And then Wymack (and Nora) drops an entire bombardment of plot bombs on us.
           “Do you know why Kevin came to Palmetto State?”
What followed was me screaming WHAT THE FUCK for a good eight pages.
Turns out Kevin’s childhood was about as awesome as Neil’s, which mean absolutely fucking not. So Riko’s family is a Japanese mafia gang, the Ravens are their cover for their shady murder businesses and Kevin was pretty much abused his whole childhood?? And Riko broke Kevin’s hand, and did it purely out of spite??? Like a toy you break if you don’t want to play with it anymore?? And now they want revenge for Kevin’s escape by destroying him on the court, breaking what last willpower he has, and cashing in on the publicity this gets them??
WHAT THE ACTUAL EVERLASTING FUCK?????????
But we’re not done yet, ho boy. Because plot fucking twist!! Neil used to play little league with the Moriyamas!! Itsy bitsy ten-year-old Neil livin’ it up with Kevin and Riko while the adults were upstairs doing some good ol’ murders!! Because his father is the ultimate crime lord of Baltimore and best pals with all the Japanese gangs in the area!! Also, the dads killed a dude in a conference room once and made the lil ones watch!! It all connects and I am NOT FUCKING LIKING IT.
Also, his mum didn’t only run away with him, but stole five million dollars before she did.
Five. Million. What a gal.
Back to the point at hand: WHAT THE FUCK?? WHAT IS HAPPENING?? I DID NOT EXPECT THAT MUCH BACKSTORY THIS EARLY ON?? I THOUGHT THIS WAS GONNA BE LIKE THE BIG REVEAL AT THE END?? I WAS NOT PREPARED!!
           Neil had grown up wondering why Kevin and Riko were in that room eight years ago and how they’d overcome it. He’d wondered why their luck and circumstances were so different that they could become international stars while Neil’s life spiralled so quickly out of control. He’d hated and worshipped them all his life, jealous of their successes and desperate for them to excel. Now it seemed he’d been wrong all along; Kevin hadn’t escaped either.
           No matter what they did or who they became, maybe they never would.
I’m not okay. I need a moment. This just all got so much more interesting.
Shit just got real, you guys.
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eldritchsun · 7 years
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I keep trying to use this hell site to chronicle my andromeda experience and FAILING but this time I will prevail : Spoilers for the start of the game ahead! In a classic self insert my Ryders are Shepard stans. The official back story is that they got that weird neon orange shade of hair bc they drunkenly tried to dye their hair red just like Jane Shepard a few months ago. I play as Sara and I'm bloody glad for it when I saw the faces available for Scott (???). I love that their back story is just "ur average kids with a cray dad" like my Sara has just been in the 2185 equivalent of the Citizen Service, looking for prothean shit, having a fun time, when Shepard was like Tragic Backstory A B or C u choose. Also talking about cray dads, Alec Ryder is unreasonably extra and Sara is like....... in death like in life... u kinda screwed me over. The guy is a straight up criminal, on the "destruction of humanity" scale, nbd. Sara didn't know about it until the potential destruction of humanity was forcibly integrated into her brain???? Like when u first speak to Sam and he explains to u the scale of the treachery, there's a few dialogue options to disapprove and my Sara was like... well... I do disapprove BUT seeing as ur now an integral part of my brain for the rest of my life I'm not sure voicing those reservations is the best course of action. F u dad. "An edge for humanity" how about u shut the fuck up. "It's part of us so it has no motivation to murder us" I'm part of myself and yet the urge to murder is real, riddle me that!! Like I was very pro-Geth in older MEs bc the poor fuckers are already there, just doing their thing. Whereas Sam is now an empathetic creature trapped in the brain of an overwhelmed 20 something, what kind of torture!! And I'm supposed to think this is a good idea? Okay rant over. For more light hearted matters, cool to have Sarah Paulson reincarnated as my companion, why Cora looks so much like her is a mystery but I'm not complaining. Going into the game I was already planning to make Vetra my wife, but her first encounter didn't seduce me that much, whereas Peebee's is very obviously an anime meet cute, so I'm gonna have to resist the asari fetish. It was funny with Shepard but for Ryder I'm hoping for some variety? Anyway either way, true love will prevail. I'm mildly better at the nomad than my driving adventures in me1, but we still manage to drive off plenty of cliffs. Sara is like Shepard's complete opposite, driving a 2km/h like a grandma "excuse me Liam, we are in a new galaxy!! I don't wanna run over the ecosystem!!" OH! The mechanics at the start of the game are the most frustrating thing on earth. Prepare to struggle with jumps a lot (I know........) and the inventory where u can't move anything, u have to wait for the start of each mission to change gear, which makes sense but... is NOT obvious. Biggest problem in the game so far has been getting around to where I'm supposed to go, which I have found very unfun. But still enjoying the game massively (apart from diverse jumping problems) purely because it's so good to be in this universe once again! Also it's perfect bc I haven't played Mass Effect 3 so I'm doing it chronologically ahahahaha..... (I'm too scared to play it)
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kade-06 · 5 years
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Story time fuckers-
who wants to hear about my shit life? no one? alright here it is-
so i got my tRaGiC bAcKsToRy~
basically my bitch ass brother tried to commit suicide like the fUCKING PUSSY HE IS- like the casual depressed teen (20 year old) he is. and yeah im Ever So Slightly Depressed- anyway, i told one of my fucking bitches friends that i thought i felt comfortable with
and this fUCKING BITCH- concerned friend reported me to the fucking counselor (after i asked him not to bc im not going to fucking kill myself im too much of a fucking pussy) but yknow thats fine right? shes not going to tell my parents unless she thinks im going to harm myself or others, all i have to do is act okay, right? yeah this is fine. i said all the right things i think, which was mostly all accurate
but fucking
NOPE
this mother fucking bitch concerned counselor calls my fucking mom. even though i tried my fucking hardest to express how uncomfortable i feel telling my mom about this and how i dont want my parents to know because i dont need therapy and we arent financially prepared for that and blah blah please dont tell my asshole parents
but no
its fucking (please read this in a high pitched, mocking voice) "required that i tell your parents that i met with you and how you feel" AFTER SHE EXPLICITLY SAID THAT SHES NOT GOING TO TELL MY FUCKING PARENTS. *deep breath*
NANI
so im sitting in the counselor office waiting for my parents to get me, literally having a mental breakdown and trying not to cry or show how fucked up i am, and posting all of it on Tumblr because i dont have friends available rn hahdj
anyway thats that sorry for that entire fucking book over what has happened in my life in the past fucking hour
i should post more art soon and sorry, i might delete this later or smth idk
i might post a lot of art bc yknow stress/anxiety reliever, basically keeps me functioning-
ive got sketches and stuff i might post soon
sorry this isnt/wont be my usual content i just wanted to yeet something at someone and if that explains anything about me
if ya have questions, ask, i wont get offended, no matter how you word it or anything, and if ya ever need anything, feel free to spam me! i literally have no life at all! :) i love you all so much!! you are all amazing and everything's gonna be okay!!!
see ya later, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals! (-Thomas Sanders)
until next time, you lovelies! 💙💙💙
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