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atinysunbaby · 3 years

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Meant to be | Choi San 🖤

Warnings : Cursing, violence, mention of rape.

Words count : 2.2 k

Previous 《 Prologue

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Present

My cheeks are burning from the salty tears escaping my eyes. A tightening feeling in my chest growing by the minute. The sobs keep escaping me, making my body move uncontrollably. Chocking from the sharp inhales and shaking from the cold temperature. This moment, forever will be imprinted in my mind. Those images I wish I could forget, unfortunately will hunt me till my last breath.

I suppose it's what most people feel too when they lose their parents. I wanted to deny it, but I saw their bodies. They were cold, bruised, bloody and no longer held any signs of life.

The last time a saw them, I didn't bother much to say goodbye to them. Only telling them to enjoy their little vacation in the woods. I was more exited about being alone then making them know how much I loved them. Now it's too late, I'll never be able to see their faces again, hear their voices, feel their arms around me when I need them the most.

I woke up to my cellphone ringing this morning, answering grumpily, thinking it was my mom who disturbed me from my sleep. It was actually the cops telling me to come to the hospital, but I wish it would've been her instead. I wish she could annoy me every morning now, but it's over. She isn't here anymore and neither is my dad.

I'm in my room, at this moment, crying my heart out. I ran out of the hospital immediately after seeing their corpses. They wanted me to identifie them, but I left with people screaming for me to comeback. I guess they probably know from my reaction, that it was indeed my mom and dad.

People keep calling me on my phone, but I don't answer. I'm laying on the floor, looking at the ceiling, waiting for my sadness to subside. I know that won't happen anytime soon, but it's the only way for me to calm down. Being surrounded by people telling me how sorry they are for my loss. A bunch of fake assholes making me feel even worse about the situation definitely won't make anything better.

Slowly my eyes get heavy, I try to fight the exhaustion but fail miserably. I fall asleep on the cold floor of my room, my window open and the sound of rain filling my ears. All of this crying definitely used up a lot of my energy.

The car crash, I wasn't there and I have no idea of what happened. But I see it, something is in the middle of the road and dad just told mom a joke. They're laughing.. until they hit that thing, an animal maybe. It goes right through the window and kill my dad instantly, but as for my mom. The car rolls off the road and fall down a small cliff. Mom's still alive, she's in pain, blood everywhere, she's crying for her husband to open his eyes and answer her. She keeps screaming that she can't feel him anymore? His presence? Her breathing is getting worse the more she panics. Suddenly the door on her side opens and something stabs her in the chest, putting a end to her desperate cries. Blood is streaming down her chin, her eyes looking directly through mine while she takes her last breath.

I open my eyes to see nothing but darkness. I frantically search for a sign of light, I reach around with my hands. My eyes are open wide and my breath shaky, until my fingers brush against an object. I stop every movement, slowly gripping it and letting a breath of relieve when I realise it's my phone.

I turn it on to see a ton of messages and missed calls. One standing out, my aunts name, my mom's sister. I never talked to her, but mom insisted on giving me her number. I look around my room and stand up to look outside the window, only to notice that it's night time. The reason of the darkness and freezing temperature. I close it and turn the lights on in my room. Then I sit on the corner of my bed and hesitate a few minutes while looking at the screen in front of me. My fingers finaly press on call. A few rings later, Aunt Kath's voice is heard. "Y/N! Y/N is it you?"

"Yes it's me.. why did you cal-" I'm cut off by a loud sob. My eyes widen in confusion, but I soon remember that my mom, her sister is no longer a part of this world. I sigh and wait for her to stop crying on the other side of the line. "S-sweetie- where are you? Are you safe? You're not alone ar-"

"Kath, my parents just died. I'm obviously not partying right now, but I'm okay.. I guess.." She stays silent for the next few seconds, my blunt answer probably wasn't expected, but it's understandable. "Sweetheart-I uhh.. you have no one to stay with right? So.. your mom made me your godmother, i-in case anything happened to her.. will you come live w-with me, here in Korea?"

It takes some time to process what just came out of her mouth, my eyebrows are furrowed. Many feelings are fighting to take control of my body, but the one that wins is frustration. "W-what?.."

"She told me to take care of you if she wasn't there anymore... It was just a precaution, but I guess it really happened." She says with a small voice, trying not to upset me further. Judging from my lack of response, she can tell I'm not that excited about this new information. "I asked you, but it ins't really a choice that you have. It's an obligation, you can't stay alone out ther-"

I hang up, not wanting to listen even for one more second. I need some time to think about it. She's right, I don't have much of a choice. I turned seventeen not too long ago and I don't have any family member here. At least none that I know of. I sigh defeated, once again pressing on my godmother's contact.

She picks up not even a second later, as if she knew I was gonna call her back. She doesn't say a word, waiting for me to start talking. I clear my throat after freeing my lower lip from my teeth. "How will I get there? How about my clothes and everything else in the house? My parents' funera-"

"I'll take care of everything you don't have to worry, just bring the necessary and I'll transfer some money on your account so you can pay for your plane ticket. As for the ride to my house, my boyfriend will pick you up" She spend a whole hour explaining to me how everything will go and I agree after hesitating for a while. If my mom gave Kath the role of godmother, she must trust her. So I will trust her too, anyways I don't really have a reason not to. She's been nice till now and she'll even welcome me in her house, she's taking me in. "Thank you Kath, I really appreciate it. I don't know what I would've done if I was all alone."

Days later

I prepared all my stuff, ready to fly to Korea. It took me a while to accept, but eventually I warmed up to it. It's an opportunity for me, to start over. A new life full of adventure, new environment and culture. I want to explore the world so why not start there.

Unfortunately though, I had to say goodbye to all my friends. We cried and spend the last few days together. We promised to text each other everyday and not to forget about one another. Sad thing is, my friends aren't the only ones I need to leave behind. It's hard to leave the place I grew up in, my house, my neighbourhood, my city, everything.

In a few hours, everything I ever knew will all be in the past. Only the memories will stay, the rest, all gone. So the day my parents died, I didn't only lose them, but my life too. The life they gave me. Now, I have to make a new one, by myself.

Landing in Korea

The flight was boring and quite annoying, I didn't know what to do. A baby cried for what felt like years and a couple had an argument at some point. Then the person next to me started to snore so loudly I thought the plane was crashing. I'm glad to finaly be on the ground, the loud voices of people speaking indistinctly seeming to sooth me from what I went through previously.

I sit on one of the chairs in the airport waiting for James, my godmother's boyfriend. He'll drive me to their house, apparently Kath arranged a room for me already. She doesn't have any kid, so she's looking forward to having me over.

"Y/N!!" I jump from the chair almost falling on my ass. I luckily manage to stay on my two feet and not make a fool of myself. Upon hearing a chuckle, I turn around and see an old looking dude smirking at me, maybe in his late forties. "Umm.. Hi can I help you?"

"James, I came to pick you up remember?" He asks while pointing at himself. I'm still unsure, he's looking at me weirdly. I can feel an odd vibe from him. It makes me feel uncomfortable, but I push it aside and nod before following him.

We enter his rusty jeep, the doors creaking when moving. Despite the outside looking a bit ugly, the inside is clean. The only negative point would be the smell, cigarette and..alcohol? Paying a bit more attention to the smell though, it doesn't only come from the jeep. The man next to me is even worst, it seems that he might shower rarely. Subtly, I bring my sweater paws to my nose, looking outside to distract myself.

"So, Y/N! How you holding up?" His loud and deep raspy voice makes me jump for the second time. I turn a bit a towards him not to be impolite and think before answering him. "I guess it's a bit easier then I expected. I didn't think that I'd feel any better, but after a few days it prove me wrong. But I feel bad, to already move on.."

He hums next to me, nodding his head lazily. I wait for him to add something, but the car is filled with silence. I'm relieved he doesn't speak further, not really being in the mood to have a whole conversation, especially with someone I don't know. So, slowly I turn back around towards the window. My mind drifting to the events that happened in just a few weeks, everything is so fucked up. Fortunately, Kath and James decided to help me.

About an hour past since we came out of the airport. We just entered a forrest, James informed me that it'll take a while still. He insisted that I should go to sleep and when I'll wake up, we'll be home. I ponder for some time, but eventually agree. It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep due to not being able to get much sleep in the plane.

I wake up when the car come to an halt, a man's voice coming from next to me. Curses escaping his mouth, confused I open my eyes. The events from the previous hours coming back to me, tears threatening to escape my eyes. My body shaking slightly from fear, uncontrollably.

The ride was a lot longer then what James had told me it would be and I slept, only to be woken up by a hand covering my mouth. Horrible things happened in that car and it wasn't a nightmare, no mather how much I wish it was one. He said he would tell Kath it took us some time because of the traffic and the airport. Then he threatened to kill me if I open my mouth.

I can't let him see me crying, I don't want him to have another reason to hurt me. Despite being terrified and completely drained from energy, I swallow the bill in my throat and wipe the tears from my eyes. While I'm breaking down, next to me James is whistling and turning the car off. Announcing with a loud scream to Kath that we arrived.

"Omg! Y/N! Sweetie you really are here." Kath comes out of the house shouting happily, her arms open, waiting for me to give her a hug. I rush to open the door, but a hand grabs my arm. His nails dig in my skin and I whimper, both from fear and pain. "Remember. You talk, you die."

He puts my bag in my hand, pretending to be helping me. Finally I escape the horrible vehicle and run into my godmother's arms with a heavy heart. The second she engulfs me in her warmth, sobs spill from deep within me. She cries with me but not for the same reason. She cries because she lost her sister and now I'm here. I, cry because I've lost my parents, I lost my house, my friends. Because I've been raped less then an hour ago. Because I feel completely broken and hopeless. The new life I wanted for myself, only starts with even more problems then I had before.

Next 》 Chapter 2

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #san fanfic #werewolf au #atiny #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

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hexpea · 2 years

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alright, buckle up for this head canon...(that really may or may not make sense) also some triggering language in regard to suicide

what if geto betraying the school and the whole "going rogue" thing was, like, his way to kill himself? what if he always just had this depressed mindset that the world just couldn't be cured? people being stuck with curses and sorcerers dying to save them, just a vicious cycle that ate away at him. and he wanted what i'd call in short "death by cop." like...he didn't want to do it himself, so he'd do something that he'd have to be executed for.

what if he only killed that village and no one else in the span of all those years since we don't really hear about any other incidents within seven years? and the night of one thousand demons was just a plot for his own death. like...why didn't we get any panels of what was going down in kyoto...? bc nothing was happening!!! that's why!!! it was all just in tokyo w/ geto bc he was just...done.

anyway...with that thought in mind i heard this song today that just made me immediately think... "this is just gojo dealing with geto's death." and it made me sad and i wanted to make others sad by sharing it:

youtube

to be extra, here's my commentary on the lyrics (my notes are colored):

So, while you're fixing up your bed So, while you're organizing drawers Could you just listen to the problems had With problems of yours? -problems had with problems of yours, geto told gojo about what he planned on doing in advance...and gojo has problems with geto's problems (aka killing non-sorcerers - but also in this case and context of the song...killing himself) And what's that note you're writing there? Why are you giving me this back? This was a gift from when we met Back when you weren't so upset -geto is preparing to betray the school and also knows what it could lead to and therefore is literally just preparing for his death even though it doesn't happen for another several years

I called in sick from your funeral The sight of your body made me feel uncomfortable I couldn't recognize your shell -once geto is dead, gojo literally cannot handle seeing his dead best friend/lover's body, especially bc he had to be the one to do it :'c

Your branching off had met an end From all the weight that made you bend And when you tried to shed your leaves You pined for warmth as they said "Your lack of love for your dear self Is sapping all of us here out Trace your roots back to the ground Work out the knotholes for yourself" -geto tried and tried to come up with solutions to cure the world of curses in his head, i bet, but came up empty or came up with ideas that only ended in violence - and he realized he could no longer live in a world like that

I called in sick from your funeral The sight of your family made me feel responsible -gojo literally is responsible for geto's death :c And I found the notes you left behind Little hints and helpless cries Desperate wishing to be over -god...imagine gojo finding a note left by geto after his death explaining that he just didn't want to exist and all the other things he wanted to say but didn't - only getting out "at least curse me a little in the end."

You said you're trapped in your body And getting deeper every day They diagnosed you born that way They say it runs in your family -geto was born with his technique, one that he hated and swallowing curses was also just...gross, and he had to live with that taste, live with solving the world's problems at his own expense over and over again A conscious erasure of working class background Where despair trickles down Imbalanced chemical crutch Open up, swallow down -omg, literally geto's power (i know it's not the actual context of the song but...) You said, "Remember me for me I need to set my spirit free" -geto wants gojo to only remember high school him, before the betrayal, he only wants gojo to have happy memories seeing as he knows his death will kill gojo but he can't go on anymore, even knowing he was loved

I called in sick from your funeral (I called in sick, I called in sick) Tradition of closure nearly felt impossible (I called in sick, I called in sick) -funny cause you don't need closure when he's gonna' come back as a brain zombie I should have never gave my word to you Not a cry, not a sound Might have learned how to swim Never taught how to drown You said, "Remember me for me" I watched you set your spirit free -gojo watched geto die :c

anyway...that's a wrap, folks time to go cry some more about satosugu

#satosugu #geto suguru #suguru geto #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #stsg #getou suguru #suguru getou #satoru gojou #gojou satoru #gojou #getou #suguru #satoru #geto #gojo

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waveypedia · 4 years

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little details i adore about astro boyd

(yes i watched it again yes i love it sue me)

The way the camera tilts when boyd talks when the “camera” Is Boyd’s pov to show he’s moving his head

The little flashes of Boyd’s true core memory from the very beginning

when boyd “malfunctions” the first time, only gyro freaks out. Akita looks totally calm

Boyd’s fake core memory fading out to show the reflection of his horrified face

Gyro almost never actually addresses boyd, treating him like an inanimate object, until he calls him a real boy

Gyro’s little gasp of horror when he realizes Fenton is out of commission

Lil bulb’s bulb turns red when gyro belittles boyd and machines in general in the lab, and that’s what puts him out of commission

(that was the inciting incident for it to go evil in both the great dime chase and beware the buddy system (as buddy), but gyro himself has never said it)

The picture of young gyro and boyd has a crack in it, representing their broken relationship

Immediately after Huey jumps and grabs gyro’s arm to protect boyd from him, gyro (unconsciously?) shields him with his arm

The shot right after has Huey still on gyro’s arm (continuity mistake) but then gyro just gently sets him down, even as he’s freaking out

Later, when Gizmoduck crashes into the ground, gyro grabs Fenton’s bag and Huey and carries them out of the blast zone w/o a second thought

Launchpad acting as troop leader

The s’more with donuts and cookie dough (where did they get that???)

Huey is more upset that the s’more isn’t regulation than that he’s being teased

Huey’s “wow, that was easy” when Boyd asks if he wants to be friends

Boyd has the jwg downloaded into his brain

Boyd accidentally set the bully’s s’more on fire with his laser eyes hehe karma “

Manny!! Get this dangerous machine out of my lab!!!” “Which one?” “

What idiot called [him] [Boyd]?!” Haha mark beaks did gyro just called mark an idiot (it’s what he deserves)

Gyro is so dramatic he keeps monologuing dfghjkl

The way akita belittled and never actually addressed gyro, his former intern, until they started fighting & how he addressed gyro as intern, (what he calls Fenton) even though he’s obviously not an intern anymore

“Protect Gizmoduck”

Every time lil’ bulb sat on gyro’s shoulder and when he sat on gyro’s head in the lab

Akita knew gyro wasn’t responsible for Boyd’s “malfunctioning,” yet he belittles gyro like he was responsible since he knows it hits a nerve

Huey insisted on calling boyd boyd, while everyone else called him 2b0. He also used he/him pronouns while everyone else used it/its pronouns, which is dehumanizing

Gyro’s little “ow” when he and akita are slapping each other

Huey’s terrified expression when boyd, in world breaker mode, broke fenton’s helmet

when gyro has lost his glasses and akita is doing his “you’ll never invent anything worthwhile” bit, he backs away from akita only for his hand to go over the edge. He does a little hand wave and turns his head to find the ground, but there’s nothing there. And he can’t see so he doesn’t know how far off the ground he is! He probably thought akita was gonna kill him

Gyro’s little satisfied “hm.” when inspector tezuka arrests akita

Actually all of gyro’s little noises, hums, screams, and grunts. Jim Rash is really talented.

The way Boyd’s head lifts when gyro says 2b0 and floats in front of Fenton

huey stands Fenton and lifts his head when gyro has Boyd’s attention and Fenton is out of commission

There’s a picture of a crying strawberry in the background of boyd and gyro’s hug which perfectly encapsulates my feelings on the matter

Gyro’s sweet, calm, loving expressions after he hugs boyd

Huey frowns when boyd chooses the name beaks chose for him, but then smiles again when he explains his reasoning

Team science walks RIGHT BY akita’s hiding place right before inspector tezuka stops them

When gyro says “hide 2bo”, Fenton straight up rests his arm on boyd’s head like an armrest. Huey just shoves his hand in front of Boyd’s face

When inspector tezuka leaves gyro to grill boyd, gyro just kinda… remains lying on the cop car. He doesn’t get up until she starts running after Lil Bulb (and then he sprints away)

Gyro’s “oh no” when he sees inspector tezuka

The way gyro’s voice trails off when he knows he’s failed to convince inspector tezuka he’s on a field trip, and her attention is diverted to boyd, but he finishes his sentence anyway

The pissed look gyro gives Fenton when he blows a hole in the wall of akita’s lab (even though gyro asked him to)

The way Fenton’s hair bounces and flops around whenever he moves his head

the fact that Fenton apparently thinks gyro was born in akita’s lab (where was Fenton born?)

Lil Bulb sitting on gyro’s head

“I don’t wanna break anything.” / “Then why must you insist on breaking my heart?!?!”

Gotta say I hate doofus and I’m glad he was only in this episode for a couple of seconds but that was so funny and I hate him a tiny bit less for his comedic value

Doofus and mark beaks vehemently refused Boyd’s hugs, but Gyro, who notoriously doesn’t like hugs (“the hugging is just for today”) gave him a giant one

It’s a huge step from the beginning of the episode where gyro literally jumped on a table to avoid boyd

The way huey says fenton’s name (fen-uhn)

The fact that the Gizmosuit gets alerts for crime everywhere, not just in duckberg. it sounded like it taps into local police radios?

Fenton can speak Japanese

Fenton defending Gyro to inspector Tezuka, but not himself

Inspector Tezuka called Fenton Gyro’s “partner” - and he is, by the end!

Akita’s little homemade sound effects and gadgets

“computer, zoom and enhance” *pulls out a magnifying glass*

Huey’s annoyed face when Fenton is overjoyed at the robbery

Boyd can eat bowls

All the ads for glomgold’s energy drink, especially the ones that show glomgold hella buff (what is with him and wanting to be seen as buff?)

When they fly away from tokyolk, Boyd’s pose at first mimics Fenton, but then he flies ahead and he and huey have a kid fun moment (tm)

According to the end credits, the thieving pigs are named Clown and Capsule!

Bully Beagle, the junior woodchuck beagle boy

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #astro boyd #gyro gearloose #huey duck #fenton crackshell-cabrera #dr akita #inspector tezuka #boyd gearloose #gizmoduck

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eternal-love-song · 4 years

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Nowhere To Go

Toga gets hurts. She goes to the only place she thinks she might be safe.

Izuku/Toga/Ochako

[Aged Up Characters, Established Izuku/Ochako, Hurt/comfort, Injury]

There was a frantic knock on the door. It was a late but the noise was enough to startle him awake. Ochako nuzzled into him further, wrapping her arm around his waist. She made a sleepy sound, but he could tell that she was already falling back asleep. Ochako could be a deep sleeper sometimes. He slipped himself out of bed, moved from under her carefully, before rushing to the door.

He paused when he opened it, not expecting the pained yellow eyes staring back at him. Her hair was down. In all the times, all the battles, all the unexpected run ins that he'd had with her, he'd never seen Toga's hair hair. That was one of the first things that struck him, even though it really shouldn't have been. He stared at her, surprised at how pretty she was this way, before he noticed more important things. She was bloody, something that always set him on edge since it was hard to know whether the blood was hers or someone else's. Hard to know which option upset him more, as well. There was blood streaking down one half of her face and a growing stain in her side where she had her arm wrapped around herself.

"I didn't know where else to go," she told him. There was desperation in her voice, in her eyes, along with the bright longing he had tried to ignore for years. "Please, help me."

Izuku thought of himself as hero. He knew what others heroes would do, what he should do. He also knew that he wouldn't feel right turning away a person in need, even if that person was a villain. specially if that person was Toga. He opened the door wider and stepped aside. "Come in."

His mind was running a million miles a minute as he closed the door. What should he do? What was happening? What has she done? What had been done to her? Ochako was in the other room, should he wake her? Should her make sure that Toga doesn't know? Question after question spinning around his hair as he tried to keep outwardly calm.

"This way," he told her, leading her to the bathroom. First things first, he needed to treat and assess her wounds. While he was at it he would try to get whatever information he could out of her, and try not to get stabbed on the chance this was a trick. Or that it wasn't, honestly. He wasn't sure that Toga wouldn't try to stab him just because she was happy.

"In the tub," he told her. "I don't want blood getting everywhere."

He was expecting her to say something or giggle madly at the thought of blood. She did neither. She stepped carefully into the tub and lowered herself onto her knees before looking up at him and saying sincerely, "Thank you."

Izuku was feeling more off balance than he usually did when dealing with her, but he tried not to let that bother him. One thing at a time. He turned around to gather bandages and disinfectant, trying not to worry too much about having his back to her. "Um, I'll need to treat those injuries so..."

"You don't need to be so shy, Izu." That response was more like her. He felt his face heat up and prepared to stammer out a denial that anything inappropriate would happen, but then she added, "I trust you."

His words died in his throat. A villain probably shouldn't say that to a hero, right? He shouldn't fell... so comforted by that, right? He took a deep breath as he turned around, his breath catching in his throat when he saw her.

She was naked from the waist up, her torn top and bloodied bra set off to the side. She'd had the decency to cover her breast with one arms, an action that must had been for his benefit as he knew that Toga wouldn't know modesty if it stabbed her and stole her blood. She was also much more injured that he'd expected. There were too many cuts, too many bruises. She was caked with dried blood and dirt in some places and he prayed that nothing was infected.

He placed the gathered materials onto the floor before the tub, grabbed a cloth, and turned on the warm water. He wet the cloth thoroughly and held it out to her. "Um, can you..."

She removed her hand the wound on her side to take the cloth. In doing so, he could tell just how bad it was. It looked so raw, like someone had ripped off a chunk of her flesh and it was still bleeding. He found himself standing immediately. "D-don't go anywhere," he told her. "I'll be right back."

He rushed out of the bathroom and back into his bedroom. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down from the panic that he was feeling. He was never really sure where he stood with Toga. She proclaimed her love for him while trying to stab him, she fought against him one day and turned around to save him the next, she pretended to be strangers just for the chance to talk to him. It was, and had always been, complicated. But right now, he knew one thing, whatever had happened to Toga, he never wanted it to happen again.

He had been planning to let Ochako sleep, to keep her far away from Toga and in that way keep her safe. That plan was flying out the window now. He needed help and there was no one he would ask before asking her. Ochako had her own complicated relationship with Toga, he knew, so he wasn't sure what her reaction to this would be.

Izuku shook her until she began to stir. "Ochako. Ochako, please wake up. This is important."

"Hmmm... what is it?" she mumbled sleepily.

He wanted to wake her up gently and ease her into the situation, but he didn't really have time for that. He didn't want to have Toga out of her sight for too long. "Toga is in our bathroom."

Her eyes opened instantly and she sat up in a panic, almost falling out of bed. "What?"

Izuku caught her with one hand. "She showed up a few minutes ago and she's really hurt and I left her in the bathroom," he explained in a rush.

She looked at him with wide eyes, trying to tell if he was joking or not and quickly deciding that he wasn't. "Okay," she said more calmly than he expected. "I'll call Aizawa or Hagakure, they can get the jump on--"

"No!"

"No?" she repeated, looking at him as if he were crazy. Maybe he was.

"I need you to help me bandage her. Please, she really hurt and I have to help her."

Ochako looked at him silently for a long moment. Finally, she sighed, throwing the blanket off of herself and getting out of bed. "You're too nice, Izuku."

"So does that mean...?" he asked hopefully.

"I'll help you," she told him. "I'd say that I hope you know what you're doing, but I know that you don't. So, whatever happens, we'll figure it out together."

He hugged her tightly. "You're the best."

She smiled as she returned the hug. "I know. Now come on, there's a criminal in our bathroom."

When they entered the bathroom Toga looked marginally better. She wasn't caked in dirt or dried blood, but she was still a mess of cuts and bruises. The cloth Izuku had given her was wadded up and pressed to her still bleeding side. Her eyes lit up when she noticed them. "Ochako! I didn't know you were here." Not even her smile had the same energy as usual.

Ochako shared a look with him before getting to her knees next to the tub. "Let me see that," she ordered softly.

Toga lifted the cloth gently and Ochako gasped. She turned to look at Izuku as he moved closer before looking back at Toga. "Who did this to you?" she demanded.

Toga hesitated. She turned her head to the side and he saw that her cheek was bruised like someone had punched her. It suddenly occured to him that maybe her hair was done to better hide her face and that made him clench his fist tightly. "I had a... disagreement with the league and then some heroes showed up."

"They did this?" he asked. His voice was more angry than he expected it to be. The both of them seemed started too, Toga looking at him with surprised eyes and Ochako with worried ones. He reached for the disinfected and leaned closer to her. "This will sting, alright?"

She nodded. "Sure."

Toga suched in a sharp breath as he poured the disinfectant over her wound and Ochako got to work tapping a suitably large bandage over it. They worked in silene, tapping and wrapping her up in silence. Halfway through, he noticed that Toga was crying.

"What's wrong? Are we hurting you?" he asked, his voice slightly panicked.

Toga shook her head. "No, it's not that. Izu is... Izu is just so nice to me! He's the nicest person in the whole entire world, but Ochako is being nice, too, and... I never thought..." She wiped her tears as she smiled at them. "I'm so happy to be with you both!"

Ochako looked down, her eyes fierce and angry. Izuku didn't know what she was thinking, but he decided to wait until she said her piece. "Toga, why did you come here? Why did you come to Izuku?"

Toga turned to look at Ochako, with a smile, even while tears were still in the corners of her arms. "I didn't know where else to go. Everyone was looking for. I didn't want to go jail, that's what heroes do if they catch you, right? But if the league caught me... I was afraid that I would die."

Izuku sucked in a breath and he turned to Ochako, seeing her with the same look of shook. "Ochako, we can't..."

"I know that, Izu." She sighed, pressing the last bandage to Toga's face. "Toga, I don't want you to die."

Toga looked surprised at this again, but that expression was quickly replaced with surprisingly sincere happiness. "I thought Ochako would have flung me over her shoulders to the cops."

"Not if you're likely to die!" Ochako responded. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at Toga. "Geez, how many times have you pretended to be me and you still don't know something like this?" She smiled a little as she added, "Even I want you to be brought to justice, I don't want you to be hurt."

"Ochako has always been an amazing person," Toga replied dreamily. "That's why I love her and Izu both."

Ochako blushed and he felt his face heat up as well. This wasn't the first time Toga has said something like that, but it felt... different somehow.

"W-well, that aside," Ochako stuttered. "For now, you can stay here with us."

"Really?" Toga's entire face lit up as she looked between them.

"There are conditions," Izuku warned. "You're not allowed to hurt anyone and you have to stay out of sight. I don't want you to get hurt, but I refuse to let you hurt someone else."

"That includes us by the way," Ochako said.

"What if it's just a love bite?" Toga questioned.

"Absolutely not!" They both exclaimed.

Toga still looked like she was full of unbridled joy and they sighed. "There are more rules," Ochako told her. "And you need to follow all of them."

"For Izuku and Ochako, I would do anything," she told them dreamily.

Ochako sighed and crossed her arms while he scratched the back of his head. "Somehow you saying that isn't as comforting as you think it is."

Toga just smiled at him.

#ELS Writing #IzuOchaToga #IzuOcha #IzuToga #OchaToga #My Hero Academia #BNHA #Ochako Uraraka #Izuku Midoriya #Himiko Toga #OT3's Are My Heart

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misfitsluug · 4 years

Text

just listen to my voice | kritz

/ t h r e e. /

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cam.

I silently followed the man to his car, I was already familiar with stuff like this so I didn't worry too much.

I was mostly worried about John and Jaren.

It wasn't intentional to get us into trouble or leave a bad impression on Smitty, my guilt washed over me as I turned around to the apartment.

I saw two people standing and leaving the roof.

Their coming after me, at least I hope so. I turned back and kept walking. My mind thought about my "Dad" and how pissed he'd be to see me at the police station. Obviously, I expected nothing more from him. He used to be sweet and kind back then, something with his wife and daughter happened that turned him into what I have to deal with today.

"Hey! Quit spacing out on me," The officer claimed, snapping me out of my thoughts, I realized that we were already outside the forest. We walked into a parking lot where his car was. The officer fumbled with his keys and I looked around, I almost made a run for it but by that time, he was already pushing me into the back of the car. I glanced out the window, different colored lights were blurred due to how fast the cop was driving, I sighed, a headache forming in my head.

It’s the next day, last night my Dad picked me up from the station and cussed me out. I couldn't sleep, I stared at the ceiling until I passed out. I haven't heard from John since yesterday, which worried me so out of instinct, I dressed myself to go to the diner. I walked out of my bedroom, heading towards the door and grabbing the doorknob-

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" A voice behind me spoke, I turned around slowly as my Dad stood there with his arms crossed and tired brown eyes that glared right at me. "Going out, what's it matter to you?"

"You know why it matters, I don't want to see your dumbass in the police station again. I don't want to see you with that boy."

"Wait, what?" I inquired, letting go of the doorknob. He knew?

"You think I don't know where you're going? I know that you've been going around with somebody, you seem too happy lately."

"Oh great, take away my happiness too why don't you?" I spat as he walked closer to me, I stood my ground. "I know he's your happiness, you gay shit stain. He might end up leaving just as quick as your parents."

I shoved him away from me, clearly upset as I felt my anger boiling inside me. He laughed and punched me, I stepped back and held my eye. "Don't ever push me again, you weak shit," He threatened, I stood up straight and opened the door, listening to his shouts while I shut the door and walked to the diner.

I finally got at the diner, pushing the door open and listened to the jingle above my head, walking to the same booth where I first met John. I sat down and watched him exit from the kitchen, his multi-colored sweater draped on his shoulder with a yellow and black t-shirt with black jeans with a chain curving around his thigh. John's heterochromic eyes staring right into mine, he immediately ran toward me with open arms. "John I-" I was cut off by John's hug, I hesitated but wrapped my arms around him.

"Don't ever fucking do that again," The blonde muttered, his face in my chest.

"I won't, honey," I replied, my cheeks heating up slightly. "I didn't want you getting in trouble with the cops."

"I didn't want you to get in trouble either, that's why I tried to stop you, dummy," John pulled away. "Hey, what happened? You have a bruise," He mentioned, cupping my cheek with his hand as his thumb carefully rubbed my bruise underneath my eye. "W-Well, uh- it was my Dad?"

"Are you serious? I'll give him a bruise too if he does this shit again," John mumbled the last part but I heard him clearly, I didn't answer though. "Not to change the subject but wanna dip?" He inquired, bringing his hand away from my face.

"Yeah, sure," I answered, following him out the door. "Where should we go?"

"Hey, you're usually the one that decides, not me," John protested, but at this point, I couldn't really think of anywhere else to go. My mind mentally looked at a map of the town, trying to figure out where else we could go. "Uh, there's this like- arcade down the street, wanna go?"

"Sounds boring."

"They have bowling there-"

"What the fuck are you just standing there for, let's go!" John exclaimed, nudging my shoulder in the process. The walk there was silent, I could tell he was nervous about the whole thing, seeing as he began biting his nails. "Hey, you okay?"

"Hm? Yeah, just a nervous twitch thing."

"You know, that isn't good for you."

"Eh, I've been doing it for a while, I could care less."

"I have an idea, after the arcade, we're stopping by my place and painting your nails that way you don't bite them anymore," I stated, he rolled his eyes and moved his hands into his pockets.

"You're too kind, why is that?"

"It's a curse."

"Really? Wish I had that."

"Hey, you are kind!" I retorted, he scoffed without a response. I felt guilty about it so I grabbed his hand. "Honey, you are the kindest person I know so far."

"Yeah yeah, you’re the kinder-est person I’ve ever met," John looked down, his cheeks coated with a pink tint. I smiled softly and kept his hand in mine until we made it to the arcade.

We exchanged our cash for coins to use inside and played games while goofing around for a bit, almost getting kicked out at some point; afterwards, we went to the bowling section and messed around in there before actually playing, John apparently had more experience compared to myself so of course he beat me.

But out of everything, I concentrated on him the most. The way his smile grew wider every-time he won a game and beat me, his scream whenever he lost and wanted a rematch or the way his bleached hair shined brighter with the multicolor neon lights, the way his eyes sparkled with delight and happiness and whenever I playfully flirted with him, he became flustered in a snap.

Maybe I did grow attached to him, more than a friendly way.

"Hey, I'm beat. You down to leave?" John inquired.

"Yeah, I'm okay with that," I answered, John sighed and we both left, the cool breeze hitting me like a wave, the heat from inside slowly disappearing. "Don't think I forgot about painting your nails."

"Wait, you were serious about that?" The American giggled, making my heart leap.

"Yeah! C'mon, it'll be fun," I remarked. "Remember? Mister Adventure guy, painting your nails would be an adventure too!"

"Okay, okay! I'll let you paint my nails, only if I can take you on my own special little adventure."

"Hell yeah!" I spoke happily, looking down at him and chatting about our experiences inside the arcade.

We made it to the complex, I looked around and noticed my Dads car was nowhere to be found.

I took the chance for granted and helped John climb over the fence as I jumped after him, leading him to my apartment. I unlocked the door, the house reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, which made John sneeze. "Sorry about the smell."

"It's all good," John reassured, I smiled and motioned him to my room, where it didn't smell of alcohol and cigarettes. I shut my door and opened the window, letting some air inside. "Okay! Mi casa es tu casa!"

"Nice, now lets get to painting nails," John sat down on a spare chair as I sat on a similar one, grabbing my small container filled with variations of colors. "Uh, here I want these colors," John grabbed three colors: red, blue, and yellow.

"Ooh, nice choices," I acknowledged, setting my container down on the ground and began painting his nails.

"Cameron, remember the thing at the roof?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You know I care about you, you scared me. Smitty was worried too, but I was scared for you. I didn't know if you were gonna get hurt and-"

"Hey, hey, it's over now, honey. You don't have to worry, I'm here with you."

"I know I know, but I need you to know that I worry for you. So if that bullshit happens again, I'm not leaving your side," John spoke in a serious tone, I knew that tone anywhere which meant he was telling the truth. "Heh, okay honey."

"Why do you call me that?"

"What? Honey?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I don't have to if you don't want me to," I looked up at him as he was already staring at me. He immediately looked away and I chuckled. "No no, I don't mind. Just outta curiosity.”

"You reminded me of a song, so I began calling you that."

"Mhm, so if I called you 'sweetheart' would that be okay with you?"

"Yeah, that's fine with me," I replied, my chest filled with butterflies. I finished painting his right hand and moved onto the left. "Alright, sweetheart."

"Where are we gonna go exactly?"

"Oh, it's a surprise, wouldn't want to ruin the fun for you," John repeated what I had said yesterday, which left me surprised at how he remembered that exactly. "You'll just have to follow me."

"Alrighty then, new Mister Adventure man, you will lead the way," I said, a smile forming on the both of us. We stayed silent, enjoying each other's presence until I finished painting his nails. "Boom, done."

"Holy shit, you're good at this," John complimented. "Really, you are."

"Hah, thanks," I replied, an awkward silence came about. I opened my mouth as if to say something until the door clicked, my immediate instinct was to go for the window. "Cameron, are you in there?" My father asked loudly, I motioned John out the window, opening it for him as I tried making up an excuse for him to not open the door. "I'm jacking off! Don't open the door!" I shouted, John snickered as he made it outside, I grabbed the door and faced him.

"You weren't jerking off, what were you doing?"

"Writing."

"Ugh, of course you were writing," He mumbled, rubbing his head. "I don't wanna see your writings anywhere outside your room, got it?"

"Yeah," I answered, he glared at me before leaving, slamming the door in the process. I sighed, relieved that he didn't realize the boy I had inside my house; I silently fled through the window, finding John leaning against the wall, smiling when I look at him. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling better now that you're here," I spoke dumbfounded, John rolled his eyes. "Whatever, c'mon sweetheart, we got a long walk ahead of us," The American began walking as I followed him downtown. Our walk to the surprise destination was quiet, listening to the cars driving by, street lights buzzing and small crickets chirping, the wind wasn't hot nor cold but just the right amount of warm. I thought about John, how lucky I am to have met him. How lucky I am to actually be able to walk with him.

How lucky I am to feel almost in love.

I knew I had some feelings here and there, but being with him, makes my day.

The only thing that haunted me was his rejection.

We made it to a small neighborhood that wasn't as far as John mentioned, we walked into a part of the neighborhood where there was a cul de sac, a street light in the middle of a small patch of grass. Houses were around the soft pavement, John stopped and pointed to a house. "There's my house, it isn't too much but it's where I live. I don't think anybody's home so we'll be fine."

"Oh, alright," I replied, continuing to walk towards the house, John turned to the side of the house where a wooden fence stood with another door and opening that door..

Stood a treehouse between two bigger trees.

"Woah," I whispered, looking at the house. It had a ladder dangling down from it and two windows that stood out as multiple cables fell from underneath and connected to Johns house. "So, how do you like it, sweetheart?"

"Like it? John, this is fucking amazing!"

"Have you ever been in a treehouse before?"

"Well, no, I've never been in one and let alone see one. I've only seen them in T.V, obviously."

"Get your ass up there," John shoved me to the ladder, I chuckled before climbing the ladder that wobbled with every step I took until I made it inside. There was a mini fridge and a small T.V while Christmas lights were strung around the walls, a blue rug on the ground, bean bags in the corner (with board games), and a couch in front of a coffee table. John soon came up after me so I walked to the couch and sat myself down, John crawling to a movie rack next to the T.V. "What do you wanna watch? We got uh, Shrek and-"

"Stop, put that shit on."

"Shrek? Seriously?"

"Put it on, pussy," I dared, John followed as told and put the movie into the DVD player. The other silently walked towards the couch, sitting beside me and laying down on my shoulder making my heart race. "Tired?"

"Yeah, I'm super fucking tired."

"Maybe we don't have to do anything tomorrow, we could just hang out."

"You really wanna do that?"

"Yeah, I'm down for that."

"Heh, alright," Those were John's last words as he concentrated on the movie before falling asleep on top of me. I smiled, playing with his frizzy bleached hair, his hair felt soft against my hands. I sighed contently, looking at how peaceful he was in my arms, still twirling his hair between my fingers.

Maybe I did fall in love with him.

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2537 WORDS.

#kritz #kryoz x fitz

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bladesmcna · 7 years

Text

Time for me to meta about everything the Keith video touched on. PSA it’s a long read. It’s just over 2k words. Also psa DO NOT REBLOG.

I’d like to start off this with a song lyric that I feel really resonates with keith.

Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere? Have you ever felt like you could disappear? Like you could fall, and no one would hear?

I’m going to start from the beginning of Keith’s life because frankly, that’s where all of his problems started. Keith has never canonically mentioned his father other than in the blade episode so there’s not much to go on there. BUT now that he’s mentioned his mother leaving him we can infer that Keith has abandonment issues. He blames the way he is now on the fact that his mother left him. His biggest question is WHY she left him. What did he do wrong? Why didn’t she love him? It’s all these questions that he’s asked himself for years now.

The next point I’d like to move on to is the abandonment issues that came along as a result of his mother leaving him. Now while I hc that his father died ( the show could prove me wrong but whatever ) and then Keith was shipped off to the Garrison instead of going into foster care that’s another issue of Keith being alone. His father left him by himself, no other family to contact. Instead they shipped him off to the Garrison where he tried to bust his ass to make something out of himself. He needed to prove to himself that even with all the shit he’s gone through that he could be more than his parents deaths.

I’d also like to point out how Keith is never taught any coping mechanisms on how to deal with loss or anger or anything that could make him uncomfortable. He’s literally been shown to lose his cool and get angry the second he feels uncomfortable. Why? Because he doesn’t have any other way of dealing with. It’s not like he wants to get angry all the time he just doesn’t know how to control it. He gets worked up and then can’t stop himself until it’s too late and then whenever someone such as Shiro or Lance call him out and ask him to calm down he’s calm almost immediately, why? Because he never intends to get that angry in the first place. After being called out about it it’s just another slap in the face that he can’t control himself or his emotions because he never had someone there to teach him.

This is where I wanna bring Shiro into the picture. They obviously knew each other through the Garrison ( my ships aside here ) they were most likely friends before Shiro went off to Kerberos. So not only had Keith finally made a friend, but he then had to watch them go off into space and then be reported missing. There’s another instance of loss in his life and he doesn’t know how to cop so what happens? He drops out because of disciplinary issues. Aka he couldn’t keep his temper in check because again, he bottled his feelings until the point where he was a human catalyst and exploded.

After dropping out Keith had basically no where to go so he found himself in an old shack. Where he got to stew on his feelings alone for a few months. This is when the realization that everything in his life as amounted to nothing hits him. His parents are both gone, his one and only friend is presumed dead in space and he dropped out of a top flight school where he was at the top of his class only to end up ALONE. Out of the 3 canonically relevant people he’d ever been close to in his life, all of three of them had left him. That’s when the depression hits him harder than before. He struggles waking up every day he struggles taking care of himself. His hair grows out he forgets how to interact with people. He doesn’t know how to function as a person anymore.

After awhile it was too much for him. He feels like he never deserved a chance to be born with in the first place because whatever high being there is out there ( I personally don’t think Keith is religious ) gave him this sort of life even after he busted his ass to try and become someone. Yet there he was, thrown out in the dirt once again.

Another thing I’d like to touch on is how Keith actually views himself because that’s super important to me and how I write him.

Keith doesn’t view himself in a good light at all for all the reasons I’ve already listed. Keith doesn’t see himself as the ‘number one pilot’ the rest of the team might see him for. He’s flawed. He can’t deal with most social situations without getting aggressive or awkward because honestly he’s had more interaction with people in the first two episodes of voltron than nearly his entire life prior to him finding Shiro again. So of course he’s awkward and quiet unless provoked. ( which honestly isn’t a hard thing to do BUT i digress ) He also has a hard time grasping a lot of social concepts that many people think are second nature. ( insert the i say vol you say tron example here ) The reason why he’s so hung up on the whole i say voltron deal is because to him, it makes more logical sense to just say voltron than to say something that, while yes it’s supposed to be humorous, just doesn’t make any sense to him. Keith isn’t one for humor that isn’t direct/blunt because a lot of the time his brain can’t wrap itself around the concept.

I also want to touch on his the relationships he holds with the paladins themselves and how he views their input.

I’d like to start this off with the beginning of season three whenever they were all deciding who was going to pilot the black lion. Their aggression towards him confessing that Shiro kept being like ‘i want you to lead voltron’ but having never mentioned it to anyone else, not even to coran or allura is like a huge kick in the face to the little confidence he had in himself. One because he hates being rejected because that’s all he’s ever been his entire life. Two, is because he thought the team thought more highly of him than just the loner and yet there they were calling him out and making him feel like he was at the bottom of the barrel. The only talent any of them ever acknowledge is his piloting skills. Nothing else about him shines, he’s just a good pilot to them.

Moving on to whenever they all actually go in the black lion. Keith was the LAST to attempt and honestly he probably only attempted because everyone else was pressuring him to. He had to try right? Except he never wanted to lead voltron in the first place. He doesn’t have the skill set to lead he doesn’t have the qualities of a leader. Even after the black lion responds to him he wants to deny it, he wants to let someone else do it because he can’t have such a big responsibility placed on him whenever he knows he’s going to fail.

That’s when everyone starts to congratulate him and he feels like he’s just been kicked in the teeth. He knows their true feelings, he knows that know of them really value his ability to pilot over him and yet there they were being like ‘oh you’re going to be a great leader.’ Yet he wasn’t. He almost got Allura killed. They wanted him to lead so he did, and he failed.

Once again he’d failed. He failed his mother’s love, his fathers legacy, and how he’d failed Shiro. That only made the depression worse.

Moving back all the way to season 1 I want to talk about the famous ‘bonding moment’ that was humorously touched in the show.

The reason ( I feel at least ) Keith is so upset about Lance not remembering it is because for the first time since Shiro, Keith had found someone that had seen him in a good light. Someone that had complimented him. Even after all the headassery that Lance had started with Keith he thought they made a good team, and this good team work is shown time and time again throughout the show and yet the fact that Lance forgets it just solidifies to Keith that nothing he does is worth remembering.

This is the time where I put my little blurb about Lance and Keith and their interactions

So Lance starts basically everything in the rivalry between the two of them. Literally within the first five minutes of meeting Keith, Lance is already shoving his superiority down his throat. At first Keith didn’t understand why Lance was like this and why Lance kept pushing it on him. ( he even finds it somewhat annoying and like Lance has a problem ) Yet as time goes on the rivalry turns into a more competitive nature that Keith starts to play back with. At first Keith really just wanted Lance to get off his case, and now it’s like their rivalry has brought them closer together by the time season 3 rolls around.

My last few little blurbs before I close off this novel of a meta

Keith deals with anxiety and depression that’s almost without a doubt 100% canon in my eyes. The way he acts and the way he carries himself and how he speaks and the way he words things and all this stuff is clearly a sign that he’s struggling with it and he doesn’t know how to control it, yet he also doesn’t want to admit that he has a problem because he doesn’t want to fail everyone on the team yet again.

Keith also values everyone on his team way more than what he lets on. He protects Allura from the arusian that comes to the castle asking why the lion goddess is mad. He catches Pidge from being thrown and all the times he’s thrown his sword to protect Lance and everything else he’s done. He wants to protect the team because they’ve become almost like his first real family. Yet he’s also terrified that this new family will drop him too, just like everyone else.

Keith struggles with his galra side. He struggles taking in the fact that he’s not what he thought he was his entire life and that just makes him not know who he is even more. Sometimes whenever he looks in the mirror he doesn’t see himself, but instead Zarkon or Lotor because that’s where part of him is from. He hates the term ‘galra keith’ because it’s like the fact once everyone knows that he’s galra he’s instantly not himself anymore but instead this evil abomination that’s wiped out entire systems with his army. Him being Galra is just the nail in the coffin that once again, he’s a huge disappointment to everyone.

He fears rejection big time. Because all anyone has ever done from the get go is reject him. His mother rejected him by leaving, he rejected himself from the garrison. Lance rejects him by throwing all of his flaws in his face. He can’t catch a break. He tries so hard to prove to everyone that he’s more than the broken parts of him that he hides away. He wants to try and prove to everyone ( including himself ) that he can be more than just some socially awkward teenager.

In closing I’d like to bring up the song lyric I put at the top of this post

Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere? Have you ever felt like you could disappear? Like you could fall, and no one would hear?

This is basically how Keith views himself. He honestly thinks he’s replaceable. They could find someone else in the galaxy with his piloting skills. They could find a new red paladin that wasn’t the loner emo brooding hot head. He feels like everyone on the team has forgotten that hey, he’s a person with feelings too. Not just some teenage kid who gets angry all the time for the hell of it. He feels like if he died, he’d die alone. If he died no one would care because he never really amounted to anything in life. He never changed anyone’s life or impacted others the way some have done for him. If he died no one would miss him because he doesn’t even have a family on earth to go back to. He thinks that if he died, everyone would just keep on living and forget about him.

And being forgotten is his biggest fear.

#★ ┊ KEITHISMS. headcanon #I STG IF ANYONE REBLOGS THIS IM GONNA STAB THEM

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little-writings · 7 years

Text

Omertà (Jumin x MC)

Mafia! AU: When someone threatens to tell the authorities about recent events, actions have to be considered.

Word Count: 2029

I have had a rough day ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ but still, I hope you enjoy and have had a much better time than I have. Thank you!

Mafia! AU Prompts:

1 2 3

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Things had been calm if only for a few hours shortly after you woke.

Jumin had leaned over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as you began to stir.

“Good morning love,” He hummed, swinging his legs over the bed, running his hands through his hair. “Yoosung and Luciel will be dropping by soon if you’d like to say hello.”

“Is it because of what happened?”

He hesitated before dropping his shoulders as he stood. “Yes, but we’re merely discussing details of how to approach this with others and changes to propose with the narcotics trade.”

“Isn’t that something for you and your father to talk about?”

“Yes, but I’d like to hear their input as they’re most closely connected as they helped get rid of evidence. I’m sure we’d all like to prevent this in the future.”

“Right, of course.”

“Yoosung...seemed particularly unsettled by it. He’s never dealt with murder before though, so I suppose it’s only natural.” I wouldn’t have had him here but Luciel already had him with him, and it was going to happen sooner or later.”

“Yeah, Yoosung doesn’t seem like the type to be involved in this. Why is he?”

“He’s merely an associate, so he’s not entirely attached, but due to his connections with V he was ‘hired’ of sorts.” He began to put on a new suit, slipping on a jacket. “He’s working for us as he wants to be able to set up a monument of sorts for his cousin and V’s fiance, Rika.”

“Rika?”

“Yes, I grew up with her along with V. She was kind and sweet but, she, unfortunately, ended her life. Since then Yoosung has been nearly obsessed with preserving her legacy.”

“Do you think that’s...good?”

“I think Rika deserves to be remembered, of course, she was a good friend of mine, but many things about her seemed...off. It was little things that always lingered in my head.” He sighed. “I simply think what Yoosung is doing is warping his own perception to only see the version of her he wants to see.”

“Have you tried telling him?”

“I’ve told him to perhaps attempt to move on a few times. But he’s almost cut himself off from the rest of the world though in his desperation to do this. He seems to like you plenty, though, not that I’m surprised, I don’t know who couldn’t,” He chuckled. “But I think he needs a friend like you.”

“And what about 707?”

“I don’t like him particularly. He doesn’t treat Elizabeth 3rd nearly as well as he should. I’d call it more so abuse. Neither do I appreciate his tendency to tease.” He shrugged. “But I don’t think he has bad intentions, and he’s loyal. Those are good qualities.”

He wrapped the tie around his neck, beneath the collar, but couldn’t seem to properly put it together.

“Having trouble?” You laughed softly, standing up as you approached him.

“Perhaps.”

You shook your head, looping it and eventually setting it against his shirt. “Did you just want me to do that for you?”

He paused.

“Maybe.” He tipped his forehead against yours, weaving his fingers through your hair. “Thank you, dearest.”

“Of course.”

“Now, would you like to join me for breakfast-”

Your fiance’s words were interrupted as a banging on the front door erupted through the house.

“Yoosung and 707?”

“Probably.” He reached out his hand, smiling lightly. “Would you still like to join me?”

“I would love to.” You entwined your fingertips with his, a gentle thumb drawing over your knuckles as you began to make your way to the entrance.

Jumin opened the door, revealing exactly the two people you both expected.

“Good morning~.” He noticed you, raising a curious brow. “I thought you believed in moving in after marriage?”

“Safety.”

“Ah.” He looked to you, giving a bright wave. “Well, good morning to you!”

“Nice to see you too 707.”

Yoosung followed along behind him, a bit shocked to see you, but nonetheless giving a polite dip of his head.

“I-I thought we handled everything yesterday...?”

“We did, more or less.” Jumin exclaimed. “We still have to handle how to change rules and dealings though to avoid this happening again.”

“Maybe w-we should tell someone...?”

Everything was silent shortly after he spoke.

Jumin narrowed his eyes, frowning. “’Someone as in law enforcement?”

“Y-Yeah I mean-”

“Yoosung, that would utterly destroy this business you realize that right?”

“But s-someone is dead. N-Not even someone, two people!”

“One of which came in with a gun threatening to shoot the love of my life or me. And the other of which threatened and attacked some of our most important clients.”

“D-Does that really make it okay?”

You let out a deep breath, speaking out.

“I-I don’t like it either Yoosung, but...there’s not much else we can do about it aside from preventing it again. That’s the important thing here.”

He gave you a distressed look for a moment, his lips parted as though he wanted to speak.

“Please, let’s just do our best to make things better.”

He closed his mouth, nodding feebly.

“You learn quickly don’t you?” 707 snickered, folding his arms across his chest. “I bet you’ll fit nicely here.”

Jumin furrowed his brow, bothered by the comment, yet not speaking as you gave a comforting squeeze of his hand.

“Yes-well, I’m sure you’re hungry. We can discuss this over breakfast. Follow me.”

Yoosung didn’t seem comforted in the slightest, his eyes unable to drag away from the office as you all passed by.

He had never dealt with this before, same as you.

But you had accepted this as your life.

You had accepted Jumin.

Had Yoosung accepted this as his life?

How far was he willing to go for Rika?

You snapped from your thoughts as you entered the dining room, food being drenched onto the tables by the chefs, prideful expressions painting their faces.

You all gave them their thanks as you sat down, sunlight pouring in through the windows.

You raised a mug of coffee to your lips, grinning gently as wisps of steam tickled your nose.

Jumin had noticed this, a tender smile as he laughed beneath his breath.

707 immediately began to eat, drenching his pancakes in syrup. “You know, you got good hospitality.”

“I try.”

“But anyhow, you wanted to talk about changes?” He leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs.

“Yes.”

“I would definitely make sure to lower the price, affordability is everything to customers after all.”

“I would like to change that, I’ve even suggested it to my father but, he refuses. saying that the less expensive it is, more people will know and hear about it, thus giving it unwanted exposure. He says we’re lucky enough to have our narcotics go undetected by law enforcement as it is, that we shouldn’t throw it away.”

“That’s a good point...but we can handle law enforcement can’t we?”

“Possibly, but that same recklessness is what caused other mafia groups to be caught by police with their speakeasies before prohibition was lifted.”

You scrunched up your nose, turning to Jumin.

“Is there any way to make it more undetectable? That way people who shouldn’t know about it won’t know, and police won’t be able to find it?”

“Possibly, I’ll look into it.”

“I mean, it might be hard to make it undetectable, but maybe you could make it harder in case there is a sort of response to police.”

“How so?”

“M-Maybe having many different sources of where to get it. Like a sort of system with different groups, depending on their role I guess in the family. That way you have different sets in different places, so much so that they can’t lead it back to the source, then there wouldn’t be an issue in lowering the price.”

Jumin’s eyes widened, nodding. “That’s a very smart idea MC, my father would love that.”

“You sure you weren’t involved in any of this beforehand?” 707 chimed.

You bit the inside of your cheek, sheepishly simpering. “Pretty sure I’d remember.”

“Well, Mr. Han probably just found his new favorite person~.”

Yoosung slammed his fork against the table, eyeing the rest of you carefully.

“H-How can you just talk as though t-this is normal?” He cried.

“It may not be normal but this will prevent the problem. As long as the clients receive what they want, and we receive what we want, it’s stable and safe.”

“Y-You don’t know that!”

“It’s our best option. There’s no need to be upset if there’s satisfaction on both ends.” Jumin replied, his voice calm.

“M-Maybe you should just shut this whole operation down! I-It’s not worth it!” He scrambled to his feet. “W-What if this all just explodes in our faces?”

“That’s why we pick and play our cards carefully.”

“B-But at what cost?” He yelled, smashing his hands down. “Cause it looks like you gave up your humanity!”

“Yoosung!” You shot up. “We’re all in this situation, there’s no need to start lashing out-”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to be in this situation! I don’t want to be in this at all! If this is what it means!”

Jumin shot daggers at him instantly at the harsh tone towards you, hunching over as though he may jump at him.

“You don’t just get to walk out on this Yoosung. This isn’t a choice anymore. You agreed to be a part of this family. Even if not wholly, you’re directly involved now. And I can assure you that talking so rudely to the love of my life will not get you anywhere at all.”

“T-That doesn’t mean I still can’t do the r-right thing!” He snapped. “I-I can still t-tell the c-cops!”

Panic struck Jumin’s face for a second.

“Do you realize all that you’d be giving up if you did that? Because of us, you’re enrolled in one of the top universities in the nation with a spotless reputation, and you’re still able to build up money for Rika’s memorial.” Your fiance said, his voice lowered. “If you tell, you’re giving up all of that. Do you truly want that? Do you think Rika would?”

“Quit acting as though you knew her like I did! I knew everything about her!” Tears brimmed at his eyes, his chin quivering. “And she wouldn’t want this!”

Even if you didn’t know her, you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit uncomfortable.

“You’re not just figuratively throwing your life away if you do this you know.” He scowled. “You’re also doing it literally. Don’t forget Omertà Yoosung.”

The boy’s breath hitched, a frustrated scream erupting from him before he stormed out.

"Keep an eye on him. Alert me if anything happens. Keep him from alerting police at all costs.”

“Even...?” 707′s words trailed off, the rest already sinking into both of your minds.

Jumin didn’t respond, his gaze clashing with different emotions entangling in his head.

Nonetheless, 707 followed after Yoosung, a worried goodbye being given to you before he left.

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat quickening.

“...What’s Omertà?”

“An oath of silence within the mafia. Under no circumstances are you meant to spill information to law enforcement, even if it results in your own arrest,”

He let out a deep breath, drawing his hands over his mouth as though he were in deep thought.

“Breaking it... is punishable by death.”

57 notes · View notes

graysonpuzzle · 7 years

Text

New Beginnings

Note: So this is something I wrote a long time ago and just edited. There is violence, bad language, mention of death, and some possibly upsetting things. If you choose to read it I hope you enjoy it! I also would really love some feed back! Thanks!

The Puzzle

CHAPTER ONE

__________________________

July 28th, 2000

“YOU ARE NOT LEAVING THIS HOUSE YOUNG LADY!” my grandfather yells from the end of the hallway.

“THE HELL I’M STAYING HERE!” I yell, packing my duffel with clothes and some of my favorite items.

I zip up the bag and throw on my brown leather jacket. My grandfather is too controlling, living and hunting wise. I throw the bag over my shoulder and speed walk down the hall. I’m 17 and I’ve been trapped hunting with this old man. Never having a good night sleep, rarely being home, having no friends and god, only ever talking to my grandpa and his creepy friends.

“Grayson Amorita, I’ll be damned if I let you out of my sight, especially after promising your mother and father-”

“Don’t you dare play that card, old man.” By now I can feel my cheeks heating up and my heart pumping faster. “Whenever I do something you don’t like, you bring them into it!”

“Grayson, I’m trying to do what they would have wanted” he says

“Oh yeah, I’m sure they wanted me out risking my life everyday hunting creatures that hide under kids beds!” I argue.

“Grayson I-”

“I’m sick and tired of this life! I want to be normal! For christs sake I’ve never even been to public school! I’ve never had any friends and forbid I even look at a boy!” I shout.

I march straight past him to the door and I swing it open a little too hard.

“Bye grandpa” I say, leaving him speechless and I walk out the front door.

November 2006

“So this is the part where you kill me?” the shapeshifter I’ve been hunting for the past 4 days asks.

“I’m afraid so,” I say. I lift my gun, finger on the trigger when he starts rambling.

“Haven’t you ever felt like a freak? I know I’m a monster in your eyes, but is it so bad that I want to try and be normal?” he asks.

“Well, for starters, normal people don’t shift their appearance and then murder families, ya know, because that’s sick,” I retort.

“Come on, that’s not as bad as what other people do,” he says.

“Well, here’s the thing, you’re not a person,” I say and shoot him, hitting him directly in the heart.

If only my grandpa could see me now, hunting by myself, HA! And he thought I wouldn’t be able to survive on my own. Just because he’s the master vampire slayer he thinks he’s the only one who can handle these supernatural sons of bitches. I mean sure, telling other hunters that I’m Daniel Elkins’ granddaughter does have a few perks, like they almost automatically are willing to help me. But, there’s always the downside. People will expect me to be as great as him. I’m still working on getting out of that shadow.

I pack everything up into the trunk of my giant scrap metal car. I don’t even know what kind of car this is, all I know is I got it from my grandpa’s friend out of his junkyard who said I could have it for free. I drive myself back to the motel I’ve been staying in and immediately throw myself on the bed.

I wake up the next morning with all my clothes on from last night. The clock on the nightstand says 1:00pm, great. I jump into the motel shower and get dressed for the day. I get my computer out and look for any possible hunts near by. One in particular stands out: “Four Teens Found Dead.” I read the whole article and it screams supernatural- vampires to be specific- all the kids were missing most of their blood, enough to kill them slowly. Well, if there’s one thing I know how to hunt, its bloodsuckers. Maybe my grandpa has worn off on me, but I think it might just be in my genes because I’ve loved hunting them since I can remember. Maybe because they’re sneaky bastards who kill people despite being people themselves once. I get my stuff together and drive to the town where the article originated, only a 45 minute drive.

I already have a plan: pretend to be a relative of one of the kids, get into the morgue and see the bodies, go to the scene where they were found, find a trail, follow it and kill the bitches.

I go to the only hospital in town and go straight to the morgue. I stop one of the doctors and give him my excuse.

“Well, I’m her cousin but I won’t be able to make it to the funeral.” I say

“Alright, just follow me, miss,” the doctor says. He takes me to the morgue and pulls out ‘my cousin's’ body.

“Do you mind if I have a moment alone with her?” I ask, faking borderline tears.

“Of course.” and he’s gone. I immediately pull the cover down to reveal her neck and there it is: two puncture wounds. I check the other three bodies and all the signs point to vampires.

I put on the best sad face I can muster up and walk out of the morgue and out of the hospital. I get in my car and the radio is blasting Kelly Clarkson’s Because of You. Not that it’s really a favorite, but I mean how can I not know the words? I sit in my car in the parking lot singing along.

“MY HEART CAN’T POSSIBLY BREAK WHEN IT WASN’T EVEN WHOLE TO START WITH!” I sing at the top of my lungs, well until two handsome fellows knock on my window, both trying to hold back smiles. Shit. Why are two guys knocking on my car in the first place?

I roll my window down and immediately put on a serious face, “can I help you?” I ask as if nothing happened 20 seconds ago.

“Yeah, we were wondering if you know anything about those four teenagers that died last night,” the one with long hair asks.

“No, not more than the news provided” I lie.

“Oh, ok thanks anyways” He says and they both walk into the hospital. Why do they care what happened? Hunters…nah.

I start the engine and make my way to the road the teenagers were found on. When I get there, the cops are blocking it off. ‘Don’t worry, Gray, just get in and get out’ I mentally prepare myself. The roads around here are surrounded by woods, so I adjust my gun in my belt and take off into the woods, far enough so I won’t be spotted, but close enough to see what’s going on. I make my way through to get close enough to the car, all windows are shattered and there’s no other evidence of vampires-at least not from here. I come out of the brush and hide behind the car, away from the cops who are by the caution tape about 20 feet away. I get in the backseat of the car and search for anything, then I spot it, a tooth, or a fang, or whatever the right term for a vampire’s second set of teeth is. I open the car door and dash back into the woods as fast as I can.

So, I don’t think the vampires would’ve followed the road, trying to be sneaky and all, so I double back down the road and go down one that parallels the one the cops are on. I pull over to the shoulder of the road, by some metal railings that block a slope down to the woods. I slide down that slope to find any tracks. I search for almost 30 minutes and find shit. No really, I stepped in deer poop. I decide to go to my car. I get back to the slope and I have to dig the toes of my shoes into the dirt so I can make it back up. As I climb over the railing I notice another set of holes in the dirt similar to mine. So they did go this way. I search the other side and there’s nothing. Guess they did use a road, but why walk through the woods then drive a car after a meal? A getaway plan or something? I get back in my car and get out the map of the town that I got earlier today. If I keep going down this road, it leads to a giant and abandoned farm. I guess I’m going there.

As I start my car, a sleek, black car pulls to the shoulder behind me. Damn. That really is a nice car. Chevelle? I guess I’ll ask when these two guys…these two guys, the same guys who knocked on my window at the hospital. Damn it, maybe the vamps found out I was following them and decided to switch it around. It’s so hard to find attractive guys that don’t have anything severely wrong with them. I get out of my car to meet them outside, gun ready in my belt.

I get out of my car and meet them halfway, and lean on the back of my car, “are you two following me?” I ask.

“No, we were heading this way and saw your car and didn’t know if you were having trouble” the one with short hair says.

“Well as sweet and creepy it is that you ‘happened’ to see me and offer me help, my car is perfectly fine, and no offense but I wouldn’t take car help from two sketchy guys who appear to be stalking me,” I say and rest my hands on my hips, closer to my gun.

“You know what’s funny is that we think you’re the sketchy one here” the tall one argues.

“Alright fine, let’s agree that we’re all sketchy and call it a night, huh?” I say and turn back to my car, then I heard a gun click. I turn back around to them to see both holding guns at me. I immediately pull out my gun and hold it to them in response.

“I didn’t know vampires were into carrying guns, did you Sammy?” the short one asks.

“Wait, what?” I ask, completely confused.

“We went to the hospital, they said a girl with your exact description went into the morgue, and you lied about knowing anything,” the short one explains.

I lower my gun, realizing instantly, “Oh god, I’m such an idiot. I’m a hunter, and apparently so are you two,” I say, “I’m working on the case with the four teenagers.”

They lower their guns as well and put them away. “So what do you have so far?” the short one asks.

“There’s tracks over there, but no sign of them on the other side of the road, so I think they took the road- it leads to a farm that nobody owns,” I say.

“Well, we’re going to look around in case you missed anything,” The short one says.

“Ok, good luck with that, I’ll be killing them while you search” I say.

“What? No, we should do this together, you can’t take out a whole nest by yourself” the big one says.

“I’m going to take your doubt in me as a challenge” I say and walk.

“Are you crazy? You’re going to get yourself killed,” the short one argues.

“If you want me to stay with you, just say so,” I say folding my arms across my chest, looking at them with raised eyebrows and a little smirk.

“Let us look for a few minutes and we can go, together,” the tall one says.

“So, do either of you have names or will I have to call you ‘big one’ and ‘little one’?” I ask sarcastically.

“I’m Sam, and this is my brother, Dean” Sam says.

“Grayson,” I reply.

10 minutes later they come up with nothing.

“I told you,” I tease.

“Are you always this cocky?” Dean asks.

“No, only when people think I can’t do as well as them, and they end up being wrong” I say with a fake grin, referring to them having to ‘check’ if I got everything.

“Well aren’t you sweet,” Dean replies, a fake smile on his face.

“Alright, let’s go” Sam directs and we head towards the farm. There’s barely any light because the sun is setting behind all the trees.

When we get to the farm we all get out and I walk to them, “Maybe we should wait until tomorrow when we have daylight,” I suggest.

“Were already here, were armed, it can’t hurt to check,” Dean says.

“I don’t know Dean, she has a point, they have the advantage,” Sam adds.

“Oh, c’mon, nothing three hunters can’t handle,” Dean says and it’s the last thing I hear before my lights go out.

I wake up on the floor with my hands chained behind my back, in what looks like a basement. Those nasty bloodsuckers. I knew we should’ve waited. Sam and Dean are also chained, but both still out cold. Sam is closest to me so I kick his leg and he stirs a little.

“Sam! Sam wake up!” I whisper yell.

“What-what the”

“They got us while we were distracted,” I say, “But don’t worry, I have a plan.”

“What?”

“Well since were not chained to anything,” I start and feel for my gun-HA they didn’t take it- “I’m going to get up, walk up the stairs to the door and kill all of them, which will give you two some time to find our weapons and free anyone they might be keeping” I say, literally thinking of the plan as it came out of my mouth.

“Maybe Dean was right,” Sam says.

“About what?”

“You being crazy.”

“I’m not crazy, I’m ambitious,” I say and I get a small laugh out of him.

“Well, usually people’s ambitions don’t include risking your life when you don’t know what you’re up against”

“Well, how will I figure out what I’m up against if I don’t go up there and see?” I ask and Dean starts to wake up.

“Oh good, you’re up!” I say and proceed to tell him the plan I told Sam.

“Are you crazy?” He asks, again with the crazy.

“God, why do you both think I’m crazy? Wouldn’t you be willing to do the same thing?”

“Yeah, but going straight at them?” Dean asks.

“Go big or go home, right?” I say.

I stand up and lower my arms so I can step between them to get my hands to the front of my body. I walk up the basement stairs and knock on the door with a happy rhythm. The door opens and a rather small vampire is there giving me a puzzled expression.

“Hi there,” I say and yank him by the shirt, throwing him down the stairs. He fell all the way to the bottom. I shoot him with my gun and he just laughs.

“So stupid, guns dont hurt me!” He laughs.

“Yeah, but I heard dead man’s blood is poison to you, and that’s what I soaked my bullets in this morning.” I say and head back up the stairs.

The door is barely open, I peek through seeing no more vampires. Sam and Dean are coming up the stairs.

“I’ll shoot all of them, don’t move until I say so,” I order.

I walk through the door and I’m immediately tacked to the ground. I fall on my stomach but I manage to get on my back and kick the vampire back and shoot her right in the stomach. “Dead man’s blood,” I say, answering the question before it’s asked. I stand up and another one jumps on my back. I slam her into a wall, leaving a huge dent. I can’t shake her off, so I feel for her stomach and shoot her there. 3 down. No more come at me, so I go get Sam and Dean in the stairwell.

“Sam, go look for any people, Dean, go look for weapons, I can hold off anymore that come, If they follow you, lead them to me,” I direct and they go. It feels nice to have somebody trust me.

They both go the same way, leaving me in the hallway by myself. I look around, and I feel arms wrap around my body, squeezing the air out of me. Two more vampires come at me at once and I flail my legs in attempt to keep them away. I kick both of them in the stomach, sending them back a few feet. I shoot at both, one hit in the chest, the other in the lower stomach. The one holding me doesn’t like this so he throws me to the ground, a mistake on his part, because I shoot him in the chest immediately. 6 down, hopefully not many more to go. I walk around the house, and I get towed down by a big vampire, I look and it’s just Dean.

“Here.” He says and cuts my chains with my machete, then hands it to me.

“thanks” I say, “where’s Sam?”

“Upstairs, looking for anyone”

“What? I haven’t checked upstairs yet!” I say loudly and run up the stairs as fast as I can, with Dean following behind me.

“I think I can get used to hunting with you” I barely hear him say from behind me. Wait, was that a reference to my ass? Did he just compliment my ass in the middle of a hunt? Screw it, I have shit to do.

I run to the first door and kick it open, empty. “SAM!” I yell and kick open two more doors.

He’s kneeling over vampire victims, but he doesn’t know there’s two vampires sneaking behind him. I lunge instantly, cutting of the man’s head, then everyone notices me and I stab the girl in her stomach, surprising her. Using the seconds she took to react, I behead her.

“Thanks,” Sam says.

“No problem, I think that’s all of them,” I say.

“There was 9 of them, I counted,” A woman on the floor says.

“Shit,” I say under my breath.

“What?” Sam asks.

“I missed one,” I say and take off to find Dean.

I don’t have to run far, because he’s being pinned to the wall by a male vampire.

“Aw are you sad were going to kill your family?” I mock and he comes straight at me. He jumps to tackle me, but I duck, letting him fall behind me. I turn around and chop his neck while he’s getting up.

“Thanks,” Dean says.

“Don’t mention it” I say and run down the stairs to finish off the vamps I poisoned. Theres three in the living room, two in the hallway and one in the basement. Just have to kill them while they’re down and you can leave, Grayson.

I get to the living room, and just as I remembered, there’s 3 bodies on the ground. I decapitate every one of them and head to the hallway. The two there are just starting to wake up, but are still weak. One is crawling and I do a low swing of the arm to get her, the other one is laying on his back, as if waiting for me. The only one I’m a little worried about is the one in the basement, he was the first one to get poisoned. I open the door and walk down, he’s nowhere in sight. I hear Sam and Dean in the hallway, “Grayson!” Sam yells, “Are you down there?”

“Yeah, I can’t find the-” I get cut off by the vampire putting me in a chokehold.

“Grayson?” Dean asks, and I hear a set of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“I can still kill her, let us go, and I won’t” He tries to bargain.

“They’re all dead, Elektra over there got every single member of your family,” Dean says, obviously trying to get the vamp to go after him, like I did earlier.

“You killed them?” He growls in my ear, “You killed my family?”

“Let her go,” Sam says, taking a step towards us.

“Don’t move, or I’ll bite her,” He threatens, “I guess that if you killed my family, you can start making up for it by joining me.” He puts his mouth to my neck. I try to wiggle away but he moves my head closer to him. It’s like in Charlie’s Angels when Madison Lee was almost kissing Natalie while putting a gun to her head, in other words, disgusting.

Dean tries to move closer and the vampire freaks out. “PUT THE BLADES DOWN!” he yells, “AND SLIDE THEM OVER HERE” at first Sam and Dean refuse but then I get an idea. I nod, telling them to agree with him. They slide the machetes to our feet and step back.

I take the machete that’s in my hand, and stab him in the stomach and reach down for Sam and Dean’s, picking one up in each hand. The vamp comes at me and I swing the machetes towards each other, cutting his neck from both sides fatally.

“Damn.” Dean says. I turn around and give each of them their machetes back with a huff of breath from the struggle.

“Where are the people?” I ask.

“I told them to wait outside by the cars,” Sam says.

We got the people to the hospital and made sure they didn’t mention us. One thing I never liked about this job, you rarely get credit. It’s 1 am when we drive to the nearest motel. I get out of my car, and they get out of theirs at the same time.

“Nice car, by the way,” I say and head to the office to buy a room.

“Thanks, she’s my pride and joy,” Dean says”

I get to the desk and ask for a one bedded room. She hands me the key and walk out the door and hear Sam and Dean asking for the closest two bedded room next to mine.

I unlock my door and go straight to the shower. I can smell my own sweat. I get out and go to my bag on the bed to look for clothes when there’s a knock at my door. Perfect timing, what if I have to fight some monster naked? I open the door to see Sam and Dean waiting.

“Uh, can I help you?” I ask as both of them try to pretend I’m not in only a towel.

“We just thought you might want to celebrate with us,” Dean says, holding up a pack of beer.

“Well, I don’t feel like drinking, but I’ll be happy to watch you two” I say “Just give me 5 to get dressed and I’ll be right over.” I close my door and get dressed. I knock on the door and Sam answers, his arm gesturing for me to come in.

“So do you two celebrate after every hunt?” I ask.

“No, just the good ones.” Sam says.

“I see.”

“So,” Dean says.

“So, what?” I ask.

“How’d you learn to hunt like that?” He asks.

“I learned from my grandpa,” I say.

“Whos your grandpa?” Sam asks.

“You might not have heard of him, Daniel Elkins, he lives in Colorado,” I say and their faces kind of fall. “What? did I say something?”

“We knew your grandpa” Dean says, “well we knew who he was, we’re sorry”

“Sorry for what? I’m confused,” I say. What the hell is up with them?

“When was the last time you heard anything from your grandpa?” Sam asks.

“I talked to him a few months ago on the phone,” I say.

They exchange a glance.

“We were in Manning a month ago, your grandpa was in the news, he was attacked in his house and was killed,” Sam says, “I’m so sorry”

I sit there in silence, thinking about it. What? there’s no way, he knew how to defend himself. This is just a sick joke. Just a sick joke.

“Grayson?” Dean asks.

“You think thats funny?”

“What?”

“Telling me he’s dead, you think thats funny, cause its not,” I say.

“Were not joking, he was killed by vampires,” Sam says.

How ironic, the thing he hunted best came to hunt him. “Excuse me, I need to go,” I say and walk out the door. It usually takes a while for things to sink in. When a hunt went wrong and one of my friends died, it took me a while to actually process it. How could he do that? He didn’t even call me. He didn’t call for help. I could’ve helped him.

I could’ve helped him. I could’ve been there. I could’ve kept him alive. I turn out the lights and fall asleep.

In my nightmare my grandpa keeps dying in front of me, a different way each time. Stabbed in the chest, shot in the head, each time screaming for my help, but I just sit there and watch. In some I’m even the one doing the killing. I try to stop myself, but I can’t move my body and all I can do is yell “I’M SORRY” millions of times. I scream myself awake and I feel the need to let off steam.

I throw all my stuff against the walls, break anything that I can. “I’M SORRY” I yell, throwing the lamp on the nightstand at the wall. I barely notice it, but I’m crying while screaming. I step on some of the glass from the lamp, and my foot bleeds out. I get on my knees and just cry to myself, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” There’s a knock on my door, but I ignore it, still repeating the same words over and over again. I lay my hands on the ground, which cuts them too, so now my hands are also bleeding. I just look at my hands for a while. “Im sorry, Im sorry for everything” My door is slammed open and the water in my eyes makes everything blurry, but I can make out the figures of two people. They pull me out of the glass and put me on the bed. ” I didn’t mean to do it!” I say, “It should’ve been me!”

“GRAYSON, SNAP OUT OF IT!” I recognize Dean yelling.

“He shouldn’t have died, it should’ve been me, I’m the one that left him alone!” I cry.

“It’s not your fault, things happen,” Sam says and wraps his arm around my shoulders.

“Get off me!” I yell, “I don’t need your help, I never needed help, I should’ve been helping him!”

“Just calm down!” Dean yells.

“HOW ABOUT HAVING YOUR ONLY FAMILY DIE AND SEE HOW YOU FEEL!!” I scream.

“I DID!” he screams back.

“BUT YOU’RE NOT THE ONE THAT KILLED HIM!”

“HEY!” Sam shouts, “both of you yelling won’t help anyone.”

“I could’ve saved him” I whisper, “I left him alone, he needed me and I left him”

The next morning I wake up in a bed, it’s not mine because the room has two beds in it. The last thing I remember from last night was yelling at Sam and Dean. I look at my hands and they’re wrapped up, I move the covers to look at my feet and they’re wrapped up too. They’re worse than I remember them being, there’s blood soaking through the wraps.

“You wouldn’t let us stitch you up last night, so we just wrapped them up for the night” Sam says, walking in from the bathroom.

“Sorry” I say.

“Please, don’t say that, you’ve said it enough since last night,” he replies.

I look down at my hands in my lap. I let myself get out of control, and hurt myself, I don’t even know what I did to the boys.

“Did I hurt either of you?” I ask.

“No,” Dean answers, walking through the room door with bags of food in his hands, “Thank god, because after seeing you kill that nest, I was glad you kept the machete in the car.”

“Yeah…"

“I got you a burger” he says and tosses is to me. My hands sting a little and catching it burns even more.

“Dean, last night I told you to have your only family die, and you said you did, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” I start.

“Our dad. He almost a month after your grandpa died,” he says, his tone kind of irritated.

“I’m so sorry.”

“We should stitch you up now, the cuts are pretty bad,” Sam interrupts.

“Alright.”

We all sit in silence as Sam works on my hands. How the hell am I going to hunt if both my hands and feet have stitches. Sam finishes my hands and I ask for the supplies to stitch my feet but he refuses and stitches those up too.

“Thank you” I say, “well I guess I should get going”

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” Sam asks.

“No, but I want to go back to Manning, just see the house and everything” I answer.

“Want us to give you a ride there?” Dean asks.

“No, I’m fine” I say and get up, “where’s my stuff?”

“Over there” Dean says and points to the table across the room. I sling it over my shoulder and take it to the bathroom to get dressed.

Trying to get dressed was difficult, but I managed to do it in 10 minutes. I walked back into the room, “Well, bye guys” I say.

“Hey, what’s your number?” Sam asks.

“Why, think you’re going to need my help sometime?” I joke.

“Something like that” Dean replies, smirking. I give them my number and head for Manning.

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realestate63141 · 7 years

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Donald Trump, Colin Kaepernick, And The Politics Of Football

Football Is Trumpball Lite Cross-posted with TomDispatch.com

The Super Bowl is superfluous this year. Who needs a reality show about violence, domination, and sexism, not to mention brain damage, now that we have Trumpball, actual reality that not only authenticates football’s authoritarianism but transforms us from bystanders into victims? Before this game is over, the players may swarm the grandstands and beat the hell out of us.

Pro football actually helped prepare us for the new president’s upset victory by normalizing a basic tenet of jock culture: anyone not on the team is an enemy, the Other. And it’s open season on opponents, the fans of opponents, critics, and women (unless they’re cheerleaders or moms). Trash talking is the lingua franca of this Trumpian moment, bullying the default tactic.

Yet pro football has also provided us with the single most vivid image of current American resistance to racism. Last summer, before a pre-season game, San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick sat during the playing of the national anthem as a symbol of his refusal “to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses black people and people of color.” As the season progressed, he started going down on his right knee when the anthem began, revealing that he was wearing black socks decorated with pigs in police hats. These, he said, represented “rogue cops that are allowed to hold positions in police departments.” He would eventually stop wearing them, convinced that the socks were a tactical mistake.

Kaepernick’s non-violent gestures, done initially without fanfare, were the most powerful message from SportsWorld since that other hard year of despair and determination, 1968, when two American Olympic medalists, Tommie Smith and John Carlos, raised their black-gloved fists in Mexico City.

Incredibly, Smith, Carlos, and Kaepernick were all tutored by the same man, sociologist Harry Edwards. In the 1960s, as a young San Jose State professor, Edwards created the Olympic Project for Human Rights as his protest against racism. Now a retired Berkeley professor, he has been a long-time adviser to the 49ers.

Forty-nine years ago, as symbols of the so-called Athletic Revolution -- an attempt to resist the tyrannical rule of coaches and administrators, particularly over African-American football players and college track-and-field competitors -- Smith and Carlos were marginalized. Instead athletic “activism” morphed into hustling for sneaker endorsements. But this time, Edwards promises, will be different. “The evident trajectory of the Kaepernick ‘movement’ (and the growing support among athletes for its concerns),” he recently wrote, “means that there are going to be some turbulent times over the upcoming Trump era as the pressure on athletes to stand up and speak out escalates.”

You won’t be surprised to learn that Donald Trump immediately disparaged Kaepernick’s gesture, telling a Seattle radio station, "I think it’s a terrible thing, and you know, maybe he should find a country that works better for him, let him try, it’s not gonna happen." He then moved on, as he tends to do -- perhaps because he was already bored or perhaps because it triggered a memory of his own disastrous pro football days.

Sports Owner Trump Destroyed His League

Donald Trump is an old story for me. When I first began talking to him in the mid-1980s -- I was then a sports reporter for CBS Sunday Morning with Charles Kuralt -- he had just bought the New Jersey Generals of the United States Football League (USFL), then in its second year of operation. The USFL played its games in the spring and summer to avoid direct competition with the National Football League for fans and TV access, but did manage to bid successfully against the established league for a number of star players, including Herschel Walker, Steve Young, and Doug Flutie.

In the course of our first long interview, Trump assured me that he was not a man consumed by his latest purchase. (“If the league isn’t successful, then, you know, it’s off to the next thing.”) He did, however, boast -- he was already The Donald, of course -- that his involvement gave the USFL “a little bit more warlike posture toward the establishment,” and that the “magic” of Trump Tower would enhance the image of the league. He insisted that he didn’t much like attention himself, but felt obligated to do this interview because I represented “a great show.” Even then, he spoke in the adjectival style (Great! Sad!) now familiar to all Americans. At the time, though I sensed that it was all mud, I was a journalist and at least it covered the ground.

When I asked him about reports that the USFL’s hidden agenda was to eventually merge with the successful National Football League or at least pressure it into admitting some of the upstart franchises, he responded genially, “I hadn’t thought of it to be perfectly honest,” adding, “I don’t think it’s in the cards for many years.”

Of course, Trump turned out to be the leader of a group of owners pushing the new league to shift its games to the fall, a direct challenge to the NFL. An anti-trust lawsuit against that league followed, ending in a Pyrrhic victory. The USFL received a judgment of $3 and collapsed, having lost tens of millions of dollars in the process.

It was all so Trumpian, so much the shape of things to come. Maybe I didn’t take him seriously enough then because we both came from Queens, a scorned outer borough of New York City, or because he was already a well-known publicity hound and classic boldface tabloid name. But I did come away with two insights that helped me in later interviews with him (when the subject was real estate or politics): first, that he would always respond to a question, even a needling one, as long as he was its subject, and second, that he had a gift for what I came to think of as predatory empathy. He was remarkably skilled at reading what his interviewer wanted to hear and then reshaping himself and his answer accordingly.

Once he read me as a liberal with a weakness for pop philosophy, he typically answered a question about the moral responsibilities of sports owners by offering this supposed credo: “I tend to think that you should be decent, you should be fair, you should be straight, and you should do the best you can. And beyond that, you can’t do very much really. So yeah, you do have a responsibility.” Then, as if adding a note in the margins of his own bland comment, he added, “I’m not sure to what extent that responsibility holds.”

Typically, he had swallowed his own tail and who knew what he meant, including him. Through the 1990s, as the host of a local PBS public affairs show and then back writing columns at the New York Times, I watched his mean-spirited pomposity swell as he filled airtime and notebooks. But what more could a journo ask?

Once, for reasons I can’t recall, I returned to that supposed sense of “responsibility” of his, asking him if he’d like to “run the country as you have run your organization.”

“I would much prefer that somebody else do it. I just don’t know if the somebody else is there,” he replied, as if already imagining January 20, 2017. “This country,” he added ominously, “needs major surgery.”

“Are you the surgeon?”

“I think I’d do a fantastic job, but I really would prefer not doing it.”

I’ve thought about Donald Trump ever since -- he did have that effect on you -- and have come to realize that he’s an avatar of the worst aspects of jock culture. (He had, in fact, been a good high school athlete.) His kind of boastful, bullying, blowfish persona is tolerated in locker rooms (as in sales offices, barracks, trading floors, and legislatures) just as long as the big dog can deliver. Which he has done. It’s no surprise that his close pals and business associates in SportsWorld include two other notorious P.T. Barnums, boxing’s Don King and wrestling’s Vince McMahon (whose wife, Linda, is now Trump's pick to head the Small Business Administration).

Another typical jock culture trait is rolling over for the alpha(est) dog in your arena, be it the team leader, coach, owner, or even the president of Russia. One wonders, had Trump become a successful NFL owner, would he have wimped out as completely as New England Patriots’ owner Robert Kraft did when Russian President Vladimir Putin pocketed his Super Bowl ring in 2005 and walked out of their Moscow meeting room with it. It was never returned. Under pressure from the George W. Bush White House, according to Kraft, he claimed it was a gift, only to change his story years later. Kraft is a Democrat, while his coach, Bill Belichick, and his quarterback, Tom Brady, are friends of Trump. The Patriots, the best team of our era, will, of course, be playing the Atlanta Falcons in the Super Bowl.

A Jock Spring?

Colin Kaepernick, alas, won’t be getting a Super Bowl ring, at least not this year. The 49ers, long a successful and lucrative franchise, ended up with a 2-14 record this season. The 29-year-old Kaepernick is a scrambler with a powerful arm. Once an exciting prospect who led his team to the Super Bowl in 2013, only his second pro season and first as a starter, he seemed to have lost some of his mojo in recent years.

He’s still an interesting character, though: biracial, raised by white adoptive parents, smart, and curious. His torso and arms are tattooed with religious phrases, and he ostentatiously kisses the “To God the Glory” tat on his right biceps after any touchdown, which became known as “Kaepernicking.”

His emergence as a progressive hero, however, surprised even Harry Edwards. “Nobody saw [Muhammad] Ali coming, nobody saw Kaepernick coming,” Edwards told Elliott Almond of the San Jose Mercury News. “He was in the tradition of people who tend to open up new paths. Nobody saw Dr. [Martin Luther] King coming.”

Putting Kaepernick in such a league may be a tad premature, but he has stimulated what might be called a Jock Spring, and not just because he promised to distribute his first million dollars in salary this season to community charities. Women soccer stars, high school football players and their coaches, National Football League and Women’s National Basketball players all began going down on one knee as the national anthem struck up. Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg called the gesture “dumb and disrespectful” before professing regret for her remark. Time put Kaepernick on its cover. Trump blamed him, in part, for a decline in the NFL’s ratings.

The initial signs of a Jock Spring actually pre-date his protest. Last July, New York Knicks forward Carmelo Anthony posted on his Instagram page an old black-and-white photograph of a dozen young black athletes in suits and ties posed in protest at what was then a summit meeting of sports stars. The front row of that 1967 photo now seems like a sports Mt. Rushmore -- Bill Russell, Jim Brown, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and Muhammad Ali, whose heavyweight title had been stripped from him after he refused to be drafted into the military.

Anthony’s message called on “all my fellow ATHLETES to step up and take charge. Go to your local officials, leaders, congressman, assemblymen/assemblywoman and demand change. There’s NO more sitting back and being afraid of tackling and addressing political issues anymore. Those days are long gone. We have to step up and take charge. We can’t worry about what endorsements we gonna lose or who is going to look at us crazy. I need your voices to be heard. We can demand change.”

It was a surprising statement from a player best known for not passing the ball enough. A few days later, he joined fellow NBA stars Dwyane Wade, Chris Paul, and LeBron James onstage at ESPN’s annual awards show, where LeBron declared: “It’s not about being a role model, it’s not about our responsibility to the tradition of activism. I know tonight we’re honoring Muhammad Ali, the GOAT [Greatest of All Time], but to do his legacy any justice, let’s use this moment as a call to action for all professional athletes to educate ourselves, explore these issues, speak up, use our influence, and renounce all violence.”

A month later, Kaepernick sat down.

“Athletes have the biggest megaphone in the country,” Edwards said to Almond in their Q-and-A. “Everybody identifies with the athletes. Kap has opened up a conversation about what is probably the most convoluted, the most difficult, and the longest-standing and intractable issue in terms of race relations in this country: This is why it was so important for Colin to take off the pig socks.

“I told him that we went through that in the 1960s and it was one of the biggest mistakes we ever made. Ultimately, we are going to have to sit down across the table with the police and hopefully come to some resolution with some of these life-and-death issues.”

As the season ended, Kaepernick’s teammates awarded him their Len Eshmont Award for “inspirational and courageous play,” making a mockery of reports in the media that he had been alienating the rest of the team. Edwards describes the media and the sports establishment as clueless when it comes to Kaepernick’s growing support among athletes -- a phenomenon that promises “some turbulent times over the upcoming Trump era.”

Kaepernick’s most transcendent transgression has been the way he punctured the comfort of football’s sweaty sanctuary, letting in both light and some hard truths -- including this reality: that objectified and extravagantly well-paid performers can still have real thoughts about the world outside the white lines, a world becoming more and more perilous for those who think Trumpball should not be the national pastime.

Trump has said he will not be attending the Super Bowl -- that might even be true -- but he will sit for the usual pre-game presidential interview, this year with Bill O’Reilly of Fox, which will broadcast on the holiest event of the sports calendar. Should you tune in? While we’re still a democracy, make your own decision. Do whatever you did for the Inauguration.

Robert Lipsyte is the jock culture correspondent for TomDispatch. He returns after having been on leave to explore the belly of the beast as Ombudsman for ESPN. His most recent book is his memoir, An Accidental Sportswriter.

Follow TomDispatch on Twitter and join us on Facebook. Check out the newest Dispatch Book, John Feffer's dystopian novel Splinterlands, as well as Nick Turse’s Next Time They’ll Come to Count the Dead, and Tom Engelhardt's latest book, Shadow Government: Surveillance, Secret Wars, and a Global Security State in a Single-Superpower World.

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