#i finally get why meryl screamed in fear of him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dragonlover123a · 1 year

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Guardian

6'5 Vash the Stampede

1in Meryl Stryfe

It was early morning on Gunsmoke, before the first sun had even peeked out over the horizon when Vash had started heading out of the hotel. He had seen a bounty hunter watching him the night prior and wanted to get out of town as soon as possible.

Normally he would wait for the two insurance girls to get up before leaving town. But with the tall girl on a vacation leave with her family and bounty hunters on his tail, he wanted to put as much distance between him and the little one. For her safety. He told himself. It didn't matter if not being in the same town or the same building or even in the same room as her made him anxious and antsy. It was too dangerous for her to be near him. Besides, she aged, he didn't. It wouldn't be fair to her to get old and wither away as she watched him stay the same for eternity.

But despite all this, something made him stop as he passed her door. Testing the handle, he was surprised to find that it was unlocked. Thats odd... She always locked her door. "Meryl?" He called out, looking around the room and his eyes landing on something small on the pillow.

Eyes widening in fear, Vash dropped his bag and rushed over to the bed. He knew exactly what this was. A long time ago Knives had created a specialized worm that could shrink someone overnight with a bite. Many of the victims died quickly, getting lost in the sands. Yes Knives had reformed, but the shrinking worms had bred and multiplied since then, making it impossible to wipe out the population. "No no no no no no no no. Please Meryl... Please be alive..." He begged, gently taking her diminutive form in his hands, gently pressing his pinky against her chest and sighing in relief when he felt her heart still beating in her chest.

Getting up, Vash went to close and lock the door before sitting back down on the bed and cradling the shrunken insurance girl in his hand, waiting for her to come too.

Opening her eyes, Meryl couldn't help but feel like something was off. Last time she checked, hotels didn't make their sheets out of... Leather? Sitting up, she inspected the material she had been laying on. Worn black leather that seemed awfully familiar. But she couldn't quite place it until she heard her name in a familiar voice. It was too loud and too far up than it was supposed to be, but familiar.

Meryl looked as far up as she normally would, but was only met with a large red wall. Looking further up, she finally met his eyes and screamed.

Vash jolted a small bit, startled when she screamed. "Meryl! Meryl it's okay. It's just me. You're safe. It's okay, you're safe" he comforted, smiling softly when she calmed down.

Okay... Meryl thought, looking around the the now much bigger room. She was probably at most an ich tall, at the mercy of the Humanoid Typhoon with her life in the palm of his hand. Which meant she was probably bitten by a shrinking worm and somehow survived the process. And yet, despite her circumstance, every fiber in her body was telling her she was safe here. "We need to get to November" she suddenly said, now all business.

Vash blinked, straightening in surprise. "November? Why would I go there? That place is crawling with military!"

"It's also where the main office for the Bernardeli Insurance Society is. There's a policy in place for situations like this. If any agent of the Bernardeli Insurance Society contracts a shrinking virus and survives, anyone can claim guardianship. Including outlaws. Provided an outlaw does claim guardianship, as long as they follow company policy their bounties can be temporarily put on hold until a further court hearing"

For a moment, Vash was silent, thinking. Could he really shed his bounty? Live peacefully with Meryl, Milly and Wolfwood? All he'd have to do is take care of Meryl. He could do that. Keep her in his pocket, or in his collar... "What are the company policies?" He asked after a while.

"Help me write reports, keep damages to a minimal, bring me to the office every now and then to show them I'm still alive" Meryl listed off. "That sort of thing. Once you claim guardianship they'll brief you"

Vash nodded, "I saw a little shop next to the saloon. Sold little clothes and food and stuff for shrinking virus survivors. And there's a bus that leaves in a couple of hours for November. Should we borrow a phone so you can call your boss?"

Meryl nodded and within the next few hours she had a new wardrobe and had called her boss, letting him know the situation and to make sure no military personnel tried arresting Vash the moment he stepped into the city as he was claiming guardianship over her.

Now they where on a bus, Meryl's typewriter balanced perfectly on Vash's lap as she directed him on what to write. But she couldn't help but watch as his long fingers effortlessly fly over the old keys. What took her hours to write only took him mere minutes. Smiling softly as he finished, Vash took the plas-paper out of the writer and held it up to Meryl for her to read. "Did I do good?" He asked, hopeful.

Meryl read over the report, sipping from her new canteen. As with just about almost everything he did, it was perfect. She was a senior disaster agent and had been writing reports for years and still had flaws in her reports. There where absolutely no flaws in the one he just wrote for her. "It's perfect Vash. If you where more responsible you could've been a disaster investigator yourself" she lightly teased.

Vash playfully scoffed, carefully folding the plas-paper and placing it in an envelope before putting the travel type writer back in it's case. "I'm plenty responsible." He retorted, gently poking her in a way so she would fall into the folds in his duster's cowl.

"Says the man who is over a century years old yet still can't hold down a job or make himself a full meal."

"You know as well as I do why I can't hold down a permanent job. You saw Augusta. And the whole thing with Legato. And it's not like I really have the time to cook all that often" he argued.

"Wait... Vash. Can you even cook?"

"I'm 134 years old. Of course I can cook. Can you?"

"Who do you think made dinner for that Schezar guy?"

"Touché"

The rest of the trip was spent in silence and next thing they knew they where in the main office of the Bernardeli Insurance Society talking to the secretary.

"Name of agent you're claiming guardianship over?" The woman asked.

"Meryl Stryfe"

"Agent number?"

"Um..." He looked at Meryl, who was on his shoulder. "47-A. Senior Disaster Investigator"

"47-A. Senior Disaster Investigator" he repeated.

"Your name?"

"Vash the Stampede."

She barely looked up, looking bored. "Do you have a last name or is it actually "the Stampede"?"

He chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Sometimes I use the name Saverem"

"Kay." She said, typing the name. "Have a seat. The boss'll see you in a minute"

He did as he was told, looking around the office nervously as his leg bounced.

Meryl placed a hand on his neck. "Vash. Calm down. No one here is going to turn you in. We're here to put a hold on your bounty, remember?"

He nodded, sighing as he gently pressed the small woman against him in a form of calming affection. "I know"

"Mister Saverem?" A man called out, making Vash look up and quickly stand.

"Follow me Mister Saverem" he said, leading him to Mr Bernardeli's office. "In there"

Vash entered the office, seeing a somewhat pudgy man with graying hair, a big mustache and square features. He couldn't help but smile softly. The man reminded him of a character from a series of Old Earth movies based on comic books.

"Well if it isn't the one and only Vash the Stampede, I'll be damned" the man mused in a gravely voice, standing to shake his hand, which Vash took politely. "My name is Jonathan Bernardeli. I'm Meryl's boss. I heard your claiming guardianship over her?"

Vash nodded, letting go of the man's hand and sitting in front of him. "Yes sir. I am. We've been traveling together for quite some time. I think I'll be able to properly care for her"

He smirked. "You better take care of our Meryl. She's our best agent. Which is why we sent her to you, ya know"

Meryl couldn't help but smile proudly at this as Vash smiled at her, a brow raised. "Oh really?"

"Yes really. Now about your bounty. I assume you know the requirements?"

"Yes sir"

"Good. I'll put in the paperwork to have it suspended today. But we will have to schedule a proper court hearing to get it gone for good. For now, consider yourself a free man Mister Humanoid Typhoon" He said, standing and opening the door for him to exit.

Vash grinned, "Thank you." He said, holding Meryl close to him as he left the building. He was now officially Meryl's guardian, and he was going to protect her with his immortal life as long as Meryl was still alive and well.

#trigun #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #g/t #Vashmeryl

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moldygreenblue · 3 years

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things from the asoue movie

(i personally think did better than netflix asoue, with “honorary mentions” that i can tolerate in ways.)

1. the movie soundtrack. thomas newman composes a lot of good scores, and everything in the asoue movie soundtrack is no exception (drive away is a real head banger). the fact it’s all on youtube, means one can jam to it whenever they go on youtube (i’m guilty of this). i love the netflix soundtrack a lot as well because shoot that is jim dooley’s music (i love his music ever since pushing daisies came out!). but netflix...where’s the official soundtrack? the fact jim dooley’s youtube channel has him uploading songs via request means he’s the only one to listen to the fans who want the show’s soundtrack is why the movie did better because of netflix’s poor treatment by not releasing it. it has to be jim dooley himself having to do it (and i appreciate him doing so because omg i can finally hear the tpp version ‘that’s not how the story goes’ without lemony talking over *tears up*)

2. the vfd group photo. everyone in the photo feels all organic and real. you got members sitting on the floor and steps. some members are standing. some members smiling happy to be there, or with neutral expressions because they don’t want to be there. some are in gestures of sorts (ike is flexing his arm like a goofball; that’s a nice touch to flesh out a dead minor character). it almost feels like the movie team decided ‘since we have the budget, we should get billy connolly, meryl streep, and others to take a photo and we’re telling them they can do whatever they want’. netflix’s vfd feels artificial and very, fake in ways. i don’t want to say it’s a bad photoshop, because group photos can have everyone stand in neat little row all smiles, but some heads feel...off. like, something feels really off with larry, ike, and uh, the guy i think is lemony who is clearly got the worst of it. is that a bad photoshop?

3. the littlest elf. the movie made that elf have a (minor) presence from beginning to end. there’s the fake out opening. the theme song from the fake out opening is heard three more times (twice in-verse, and it’s the final song in the credits) and it’s annoyingly catchy. olaf having a bobble head doll so shoot that means it’s popular franchise in the movie world. the movie made the littlest elf a thing, and netflix only makes it a word-of-mouth reference. what’s weirder for netflix is gustav despite having more of a character and kept his director status (unlike movie!gustav), never bring up this horrific masterpiece and the connection between the two (that i can recall). like, this is not cool, netflix!

4. movie!monty being able to carry snakes and having a personal snake. the movie probably had the budget to do so unlike netflix, but monty in any continuity would carry a snake with him if possible, even for a short amount of time. movie!monty goes up a level by being a giddy herpetologist with his own personal pet snake he loves and adore (sidenote: movie!monty, that’s why petunia thinks you’re a tree you always carry her around. you spoil her rotten). netflix!monty with the winged lizard is not the same vibe, because it’s cgi. i think netflix!monty should have hold a real snake for at least a minute, as a treat.

5. two-thirds of the wide window section. it’s not that i think the netflix version is bad, for i do enjoy it. but there’s so many details in the movie version i enjoy: josephine and her poofy black mourning dress. klaus dissociating in the kitchen and josephine losing it. josephine casually telling the children ‘oh no he [ike] got eaten by leeches’ and the baudelaires are all (O_o) and sunny speaks for them all. the fact josephine is strong enough to pull the chain to show off the wide window all by herself and violet and klaus are still (O_o). josephine screaming at the jane lynch cameo + “we got to get her out of the house.”. sunny accidentally dropping the apple basket. klaus tackling captain sham shamelessly. the baudelaires getting accuse of shoplifting. everything about hurricane herman, especially with josephine’s fears coming true. klaus assuming violet may kill them all with her plan to get off the platform.

the fact that the deleted/extended version of josephine’s death is so messed up (josephine realizing she can’t jump, josephine allowing herself to sit back on the boat, crying as she apologizes, the fog covering her and the boat), i truly think the wide window was the book the movie team attempted to do the series right in their own way, but meddling got involve.

and now, honorary mentions.

honorary mention 1: movie!powder face women ages. i don’t know what is up with their personalities (i’m including deleted scenes), but you know what? the movie team did cast two actresses who fit the age range of the sbg. had the movie continued in hypothetical sequels, i would have 100% believe their recruitment into vfd is connected to the loss of their sibling in a fire. netflix!powder face women are older than their movie counterparts (and maybe book counterparts, taking brett helquist’s illustrations of them as them being on the younger side), so when netflix decided to make ishmael the creator of vfd, they pretty much made a giant hole of a contradiction over their statement of losing a sibling to a fire (unless they aged very badly). netflix due to their major changes of vfd, made the movie look good in a weird way. honorary mention because movie series is dead in the water, and their characterization.

honorary mention 2: the baudelaire’s mansion. the exterior only shows up for one second in its glory before fernald stabs his hook into the photo, but given how the ruins are shown a lot, it’s easy to tell the mansion isn’t super huge, but still huge and noticeable. its location being in middle of the street holding a corner spot of sorts means looking from high above does give the illusion it’s in the ‘heart of a dirty and busy city’. the netflix mansion...it’s something. the netflix mansion looks like it’s borderline on a suburb neighborhood, and the mansion takes up six lots like this not what i thought in mind. it’s honorary mention because the exterior shows up for one second (and i’m not sure how to feel about the interior).

honorary mention 3: movie!lemony hiding his face 24/7. netflix!lemony showing his face is because he’s narrating the series from the future. whenever (past) netflix!lemony shows up, there’s is a sense (future) netflix!lemony is trying to avoid narrating himself because it screams, “oh hey that’s me! oh wait that’s me. i’m just...going to go.” and he leaves and only comes back after he’s certain past!lemony is gone. as much i as actually enjoy what netflix did, i do like the ‘i’m not going to show my face, suckers’ angle lemony has in the books.

the movie carries this over. lemony’s face is always not in the shot because the movie is showing his body head down, obscure by shadows, or do show his face but partly. the whole ‘my ribbon just jam’ bit still has lemony still refusing to not show his face. in fact, it’s hard to find a shot where his face is ‘visible’ without editing the lighting and shadows and what not until the ending, when lemony gets his transcript out of the typewriter due to the lighting of the lamp:

it’s a honorary mention because excluding lemony having no shame on interrupting the fake out opening, no shame on telling the audience to jump out the airplane if they’re watching the movie there, the ‘ribbon just jammed’ moment (if only because movie!lemony blank out afterwards), and technically lemony being melancholic after looking out the spyglass (lemony would totally do that, but in a different context), movie!lemony doesn’t do a lot of things that make him be, well, lemony. that, and movie!lemony’s aesthetics still confuses me to this day.

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #asoue movie #moldy watching movies #this is actually old tbh #like a few months old #but it's still relevant #i don't think netflix still released an official soundtrack

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onewithnomightypowers · 3 years

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clandestine (chapter 4)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 4: darling can’t you hear me?

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. this chapter is musically driven so i would recommend listening to ‘hit me baby one more time’ by britney spears, ‘sos’ by abba and ‘end game’ by taylor swift, while reading the chapter. also there is slight smut in here. i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated.

warnings: smoking, drinking, slight smut, cursing

word count: 1.6k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

main masterlist series masterlist chapter 3 chapter 5

Tom and Y/N had been individually invited to their common friend Lily’s house warming party. They, however, decided to go together as friends.

Most of the people Y/N knew in London were all in the same circle and were all present at Lily’s. Lily was a smart woman and a social butterfly, but she was not the smartest when it came to befriending real and trustworthy people.

The house was packed with people. Everyone was taking a swing at the karaoke machine attached to the TV in the living room.

Y/N and Tom made their way to the kitchen where all the drinks were.

“Remember, you’re driving us home.” Y/N said, snatching the beer from Tom’s hand.

“Why can’t you drive?” Y/N chugged the whole beer at once.

“Oops”, she said, wiping her mouth from the back of her palm.

They both diverted to their separate ways, trying not to confirm the obvious. They were the talk of the town, or the party in this case. They were knee deep in rumours. Everyone had been gossiping about something they had heard from a friend of a friend.

Rumours spread like wildfire and in their case, most of the rumours were true. But the biggest red herring of the town was that Haz and Y/N were separated and were on the verge of filing divorce, and Y/N was getting the heat of it.

Those who were sober enough to sustain a conversation, came up to her and asked her the exact same question.

“So what is up with Haz? How is he? Haven’t seen him around in such a long time”, asked a girl, whose name Y/N couldn’t remember.

She was clearly out for ‘the scoop’ everyone else was.

“Oh he’s nice, he’s actually coming to London next week”, this was the thirteenth time Y/N had repeated that sentence tonight.

“So will he be accompanying you to the premier?”

What is she, a tabloid journalist?

“I don’t know actually, we haven’t talked about that”

---

Tom hated parties, he preferred intimate gatherings, where people would have meaningful conversations instead of the shallow small talk. He was an ‘intellectual’ in that sense, as Y/N had pointed out. He was insufferable since he couldn’t drink as he had to drive Y/N home, and she was nowhere to be found. He found himself entering the bathroom in Lily’s room to escape. Little did he know, Y/N felt the same way. He entered the bathroom to a modern masterpiece.

Y/N was sitting inside the bathtub with her legs hanging out of it. Her white wine glass was to her left, next to a Marlboro box with a lighter poking out it. The shower curtains were pushed to the right side of the tub.

She had a cigarette in her left hand and her phone in her right. He could only assume that she was playing candy crush like the middle aged woman she was. He couldn’t help but take a picture.

Y/N didn’t notice him until she heard the sound of the phone camera.

“I see you lasted an hour out there”, she said, ashing her cigarette on the box.

“Which is more than you”, he sat on the edge of the tub.

“Ugh, I couldn’t take their questions about Haz anymore, like seriously why do they all need to ask me the exact same question individually, I should literally just announce my life’s status with a fucking lou-“, Y/N was interrupted by Tom’s sloppy kiss.

She tastes like wine

He found himself on Y/N's lap and started kissing down her neck. She smelled like her Gucci Bloom perfume mixed with alcohol and smoke. Tom made it to her breasts and started sucking them, in an attempt to leave his mark on her.

There was a knock on the door. “Go away”, Y/N screamed, between small, light moans. “Um, okay”, the person said from behind the door. Y/N moved her hand to the rim of Tom’s shirt and started to pull it up, accidently toppling the wine glass next to her, spilling wine in the bathtub.

Tom broke away to see what had happened. “You’re a mess, darling”, he continued kissing her. “But I’m the mess you love”. Both of them were so intoxicated at the moment, they ignored the use of the word ‘love’. It was something which neither of them had said out loud before, but felt deeply.

“We should go, they will think we are canoodling together”, Tom said.

“But we are canoodling together”

“Yeah but still”

“Fine, but you owe me one”, Y/N said in frustration.

Tom got up from her lap, Y/N stuffed her phone and the cigarette box in her pocket.

“What are we going to do about that?” Tom pointed at the wine glass on the bed of the tub.

“Its white wine so it wouldn’t stain and we were never here”

Y/N opened the door and merged into the sea of people, leaving Tom behind.

---

She found herself in an utterly boring conversation with Lily and her ‘girl squad’. They were talking about the latest Dior makeup line.

How can someone talk about makeup while drunk?

She noticed that Alan was done with his powerful performance of ‘hit me baby one more time’. “Who is next?” he asked the crowd, raising the microphone. Y/N found an opening to escape the conversation. “Me!” she got up, grabbed the mic and climbed the wooden coffee table.

“Who wants to recreate the ‘SOS’ scene with me from ‘Mamma Mia’? Of course I’ll be Pierce Brosnan” she screamed into the mic.

“I’ll be your Meryl Streep”, Tom walked over to the karaoke machine to take the spare mic.

Y/N turned on the music, “I want everyone to sing the chorus with us”

“Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find, I try to reach for you but you have closed your mind”, Y/N stepped off the table and started to walk towards Tom, never losing eye contact with him.

“Whatever happened to our love? I wish I understood, it used to be so nice, it used to be so good”, Tom turned his back to her just like Meryl Streep in the movie.

“So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me, S.O.S. The love you gave me, nothing else can save me, S.O.S”, everyone sang this part excluding Tom.

“When you're gone, how can I even try to go on? When you're gone, though I try, how can I carry on?” Y/N sang this part alone. Tom turned slightly to look at Y/N, he could see it in her eyes that she meant every bit of what she was singing.

“You seemed so far away, though you were standing near. You made me feel alive but something died, I fear”. It was Tom’s time to shine. He noticed that almost everyone in their audience had pulled out their phones to record it.

“I really tried to make it up, I wish I understood. What happened to our love, it used to be so good”, Tom tried his best to overact.

“So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me, S.O.S. The love you gave me, nothing else can save me, S.O.S.” they all sang it, together, on top of their lungs.

Tom and Y/N were, now, standing back to back.

“When you're gone, how can I even try to go on?” Y/N repeated the lines after Tom.

“When you're gone, though I try, how can I carry on?” they held each other’s free hand in a way no one could see it.

The music stopped playing, they turned to look at each other. “Now don’t expect me to do the dirty dancing lift with you, I don’t want to break my back”, Y/N spoke into the mic. The whole room burst into laughter.

---

They were on their way to Y/N’s Camden apartment, their home for the time being. Tom was driving and the local radio was playing at a low volume. Y/N was looking out the window, it was past midnight, and the streets were stranded.

“And now, ‘End Game’ by Taylor Swift”, the radio jockey said.

Y/N was not paying attention to whatever was playing but Tom was. He turned up the volume for her, knowing her, he knew that she wouldn’t want to miss it. Y/N finally noticed the chorus and got excited. She looked over at Tom, giving him a glance that said ‘you know me so well’. He noted the glance, grabbed her right hand delicately and pulled it up to his mouth to give it a kiss.

She took her hand back to increase the volume even more. They had stopped at a red light.

“I hit you like bang”, Y/N sang along, making a ‘bomb blasting’ gesture.

“We tried to forget it but we just couldn’t, and I buried deep hatchets but I keep maps to where I put ‘em”

“Reputation precedes me, they told you I’m crazy” Tom also sang with her.

“I swear I don’t love the drama”, he let her sing this part alone.

“It loves me” she bopped Tom’s nose, scrunching her face.

I love her so much

“I love you so much”, he said.

She looked up, grinning like a devil, saying nothing.

Shit did I say it too soon? Yeah it’s too soon, she’s going to fucking leave me now

“Is it cool that I said that?” he was confused by her silence. The light had turned green and the cars behind them were honking, but his eyes were stuck on her beautiful devilish face.

Just before he turned his wild eyes on the road, she said it.

“I love you too, Tom.”

@mysticapples17

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yandere-society · 5 years

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Yandere!CEO!Taehyung who is either obsessed with his assistant who is going to work for another Yandere!Ceo (Like Jungkook) or a coffee store owner where he gets his coffee from but the store is moving to a new town

I got lost in the sauce bc I recently watched The Devil Wears Prada and I saw ‘assistant’ and ‘ceo’ and I went off. Hope you don’t mind :)

Admin/Writer- Chinkbihh

Words- 6.7k

Trigger Warnings- Sadism, verbal abuse, yandere Taehyung

Actually, The Devil Wears Gucci

You had always thought that ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ was an over exaggeration of what a boss/assistant relationship could be.

Until you met Mr. Kim.

Meryl Streep as a boss would’ve been an angel compared to the monster who signed your paychecks now.

You had moved to the city with the assumption that jobs would be readily available for your plucking, however not even Mcdonalds was willing to call back for an interview. After living three weeks in the city without a job, you told yourself that you would apply to anything and everything you came across before resorting to less admirable means of getting money. So when you came across a job position for being an assistant to some company, you had half-heartedly sent an application- no expectations for getting any response.

Apparently, this place was more desperate than you for it took exactly two hours before some nice lady was calling you and begging for an interview. This should have been the first red flag, for what kind of office job was more eager than a fast food chain? However the pay was nice and you weren’t in any position to shrug off potential employers, thus you agreed to come in.

The following day you arrived at the company and sat down with the woman from over the phone, answering her questions with as much integrity as you could muster. You were answering the stream of questions with ease until one odd one came up.

“Are you fast?” She asked not once looking up from her little clipboard. The question threw you off guard.

“I-I’m sorry, what are you referencing?” Your confident mask faltered for a second due to your inability to understand what the fuck she meant.

“You’re going to be asked to make runs to the most random places throughout the city under harsh time crunches, do you think you could do that?” She seemed sympathetic as she said this, as if she really didn’t want to put you through that.

This should have been another red flag, but all that popped into your head was coffee runs.

You just nodded, sure you could do some running around to get some wealthy people a couple cappuccinos for their ‘productive’ meetings.

“Are you sensitive?”

Your eyebrow rose on its’ own accord and before your mouth could open to ask for more context, the interviewer interjected by saying;

“Our CEO is a very…um, blunt man. Some people don’t like that personality type so we rather avoid employing someone who will crumble under that pressure.” This was yet another red flag.

One that you didn’t bother looking at as you just smiled and told her, “I promise to keep my emotions out of the professional scene here.”

–

‘Blunt’ turned out to be a really watered down version for what the CEO actually was; a heartless bastard with no concept of empathy. You later felt backstabbed by the interviewer (Irene was her name) for downplaying such a demon. But you could understand her incentive to not scare you off, how else would they get any employees if everyone knew about the CEO’s true behavior?

After your brief interview, Irene declared you more than adequate enough for the position. She decided to show you around before your first day the following week.

The office was modern and chic with everyone seated at different sections depending on their department. You got the sense that it was an elaborate operation given the high-rise location of the office floor and the expensive furniture. Even the fucking coffee maker at the cafeteria was more costly than your rent. Despite the modern and voguish environment, all the employees Irene introduced you to seemed amicable and kind enough. You did however notice the slight eye widen whenever Irene told them that you were going to be “Mr. Kim’s new assistant.”

There was something that no one was telling you, but everyone knew.

You didn’t discover what it was until Irene walked you over to a door and told you that it was time to meet the man you’d be working for.

“It’s very important that you knock everytime. Walking in without warning will make him furious.” Irene gently told you as she raised her hand to knock on the mahogany door.

However before her small fist could make contact with it, the door was ripped open from the other side and a girl rushed out in such speed you could barely catch her face.

The one thing you did catch though was the blotched mess it was with tear streaks running down it. You heard her sobs sound behind you and get further and further away as she ran out of the office. You thought you heard a muttered; “insensitive jerk” as she passed by.

Irene side-glanced you and gave you an awkward smile. It was obvious that she didn’t even know what to do. “Um…sorry about that. R-Rose has always been a bit of a crybaby.”

She was a bad liar.

Irene leaned forward in the now open doorway and called out,

“Mr. Kim? Is it alright if I come in?” A grunt was heard but this was all the confirmation she needed before taking your hand and leading you inside.

The office was large with the outer wall being all glass, revealing the sky-line of the other tall skyscraper buildings in the city. The walls were white but every piece of furniture was black, from the tiny lounge sofa pushed to the side to the very frames the abstract paintings were held in. In the center of such room was a large grey granite desk that held a golden name plate that clearly read; Kim Taehyung (CEO).

Behind the desk stood your new boss as he ruffled his hair in frustration.

His messy strands were icy blue that contrasted the copper shade of his complexion, the sun having seemingly adored his skin but the top of his head favoring the cold. (Or hair dye, but that’s none of your business.) He was tall with a broad torso, yet he was slender. His olympian body was clad in a suit that you dared not ponder the price of, knowing it could only end with you in tears. His intense and dark brows were pinched forward in annoyance, below them were his egyptian-like eyes that held raven colored orbs ignited with a fire you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of. His face was slender but his features were anything but. His nose being fleshy but straight and his lips being plushy and berry-red. Spotted on his face were tiny beauty marks that were spaced enough to form a miniature constellation.

He looked up at Irene and scowled, “I told her to get Park Jimin for a meeting and the dumbass calls Park Chanyeol on accident. Now I have to deal with this dumbo eared giant in the lobby who can’t take a fucking hint that I’m not selling any of his shitty products on my line.” He grumbled with a surprisingly gravely voice that was so deep it sounded like the devil.

You connected the dots with the poor girl who ran out of the room only seconds prior, assuming he fired her or at least yelled at her very brutally. He huffed once more and sat down in his velvet chair by the desk and finally bothered to give you a glance, just now noticing the person next to Irene.

“Whose this? Don’t tell me it’s another brainless bimbo.”

He spoke of you like you weren’t in the room, which caused your brow to tick in annoyance.

Irene nervously cleared her throat and said, “This is Y/n, she is your new personal assistant.”

His face was unreadable and stony as he gave you a scrutinizing gaze, looking up and down your form to drink you in.

You wanted to shift nervously under his piercing eyes, but you didn’t want to be another ‘Rose’ for him to berate so you kept your calm. Something just told you that he fed off fear.

Then he spoke, “Go to Starbucks and get me a caramel macchiato.”

He didn’t look away from you, clearly addressing you.

Irene bristled beside you, “S-sir, she doesn’t start until-”

You cut her off with a grin as you stared right back Mr. Kim, “I’ll get right on that. Hot or iced and what size?” -

Kim Taehyung was a monster.

His source of nutrition?

The souls, hope and energy of those mere mortals around him.

In a way it was awe inducing how brilliant that man was. As much hatred people may have for him, one could not deny Taehyung his respect. It took a lot of hard work to get to where he had gotten at the young age of 23. But that did not shake the asshole regime his employees had to suffer through.

He wanted what he wanted, when he wanted it and exactly how he wanted it. And if you couldn’t deliver upon such demands? Then off with your head and pray you never cross Kim Taehyung ever again.

Taehyung was not a boss who would pull one aside and quietly break the news that your services aren’t needed anymore. No. He’ll scream it infront of everyone in the middle of a conference meeting and throw in a list of reasons why you should reevaluate your life for good measure.

People bent so easily to him, submitted without question. What was once a quiet and calm scene of friendly employees will swiftly change into a frenzied mess at a drop of a hat whenever Mr. Kim walked by.

Panic would cause people to make copies of copies in fear that they’ll forget the important documents they needed to give him. People would leave elevators once Mr. Kim entered, always granting him his own ride to the top floor no matter how late they were running. People only spoke when spoken to during meetings and when a deadline wasn’t met, they simply didn’t show up to work anymore due to the fear of facing the CEO.

However there was a special infereno for the role of his personal assistant, one that you suffered everyday.

You caught on quick that he enjoyed giving you nearly impossible tasks, and he cared not about how stressful or absurd the demands were.

“Coffee and bagel on my desk in 10 minutes or you’re fired.”

“Go downtown and get me those dumplings I like, be back in fifteen.”

“Go pick up my dry-cleaning and set up an appointment for a message at that one sauna in the west side.”

“Get me the new Gucci robe or don’t bother coming in to work tomorrow.”

“I got an urge to have a dog, go get one for me by 4’oclock.”

“The dog you got me threw up in my living room, here’s the spare key so you can clean it up. Clean the rest of the place while you’re at it too.”

“I want a private jet…figure that out.”

“The tire popped off on my car on the way here. Go pop it back on, it’s two blocks down.”

“Call Jung Hoseok and cancel our dinner plans, tell him he’s an asshole and his mother is a whore.”

The last request was something he asked often of you, he particularly liked you sending over really vulgar messages to people.

One time he caught you trying to sugar coat something over the phone and called you into his office to have a ‘talk.’

“Y/n, I believe I told you to to tell Mr. Lee that he could call back when he’s done with his head being up his ass.”

He menacingly glared at you as you tried your best to keep a straight face. “What did you say instead?”

“I-I told Mr. Lee that you would further communicate with him once you deem him more aware and intelligent.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Funny, that sounds a lot different that ‘get your head out of your ass’.”

It was silent for a moment and you really wondered if you were going to lose your job just because you didn’t tell someone to shove it up where the sun don’t shine.

Mr. Kim sat back in his seat and barked out, “When I tell you to curse at someone, you do it. I don’t care who it is. It can be the fucking queen of England and you’ll call her a cunt if I order you to. Now get out of my office and make yourself useful by fetching me a coffee.”

Now you didn’t flinch when you called other wealthy business people with cursing insults in hand.

–

A month had passed and you had slowly become the longest working personal assistant for Kim Taehyung.

Other employees informed you that the longest run before you was three weeks and two days and the girl ended with a mental breakdown in the bathroom.

When they asked you how you managed to tolerate all of Mr. Kim’s demands whilst not getting landed on your ass with him firing you, you tried your best to explain your strategy.

You weren’t getting paid to give your opinions.

So whenever he ordered you to get him something under nearly impossible time limits, you just kept your mouth shut and ran off to compete that insane task.

It was hard given he never gave you establishment names of the places he wanted stuff from, it was always given in terms of “that out place in the east side.” “That one restaurant I like.” “That one gallery I visited last time with Jin.”

And you always only had a short time frame to figure out where he is talking about, go there and get what he wanted, and return back before his timer went off. Sprinting down the busy sidewalks of the city had become a daily thing that was required of you.

You would go out on these runs 3-4 times a day and do ridiculous calls about 5-6 times a day. Sometimes Mr. Kim would have this look on his face as he told you of your newest assignment, as if he anticipated your objection because even he knew how absurd his demands were.

But you never gave him that satisfaction, knowing that he will get the upper hand and possibly fire you if you interjected in any way.

So you would just always smile and tell him that you were right on it.

–

Kim Taehyung rather enjoyed studying you.

When he first caught sight of you, he couldn’t help but think you were very attractive. Yet this didn’t cause his heart to grow fond of you at all. In fact it was almost a negative given all the pretty assistants he had in the past turned out to be dumbest.

Yet in a matter of a few weeks, you managed to prove him wrong and exceed previously set expectations.

He knew he was an ass. And he wanted his assistants to know that when they first met him, never would he want to give a first impression of being a lax or laid back boss. So maybe he went out of his way to make things a tad more…stressful for you.

Taehyung couldn’t deny the slight surprise every time you simply responded with that cute grin of yours and pulled off every task that he even doubted was possible.

After a few weeks of this, Taehyung was forced to acknowledge the fact that you were here to stay as you have proven yourself more than capable.

But that didn’t mean he stopped fucking with you.

No, if anything he did it even more.

He found it so adorable to view that expression of yours when you were faced with yet another idiotic obstacle he set up for you. The slight incoming blush as your face reddened with a frustration that you dared not utter. The pursing of your lips as if you were forcing yourself not to object. The delightful eye widen when he told you to make vulgar calls. That funny little eyebrow twitch you did when he gave you an especially difficult command. And your pathetic little attempt to mask your displeasure by plastering on an innocent smile and chirping, “Sure, I’ll get right on that.”

It was better than any comedy Taehyung could’ve paid to watch.

Taehyung was well aware of his own sadistic tendencies, therefore it made sense that he would have an odd sense of satisfaction from pestering you.

However the endgame most sadists had never came true in this case; you never broke. He witnessed many assistants crumble under him; whether it be by crying, screaming at him or just plain storming out.

He always won in the end, his trophy being their crack in sanity and composure. But you were stubborn.

You refused to let him get to you. Maybe that’s why he found himself slightly dumbfounded by you. You swallowed your pride and did his bidding with a dog-like obedience that you obviously faked. Yet you never cracked and humored him with a spontaneous rebellion to his dictatorship, you followed along but masked yourself just enough to have him thirsty to hear your actual thoughts and feelings.

He didn’t realize just how far his fascination went until he found himself at a club on a Saturday night, sat in the VIP lounge with Kim Namjoon to his left and Kim Seokjin to his right.

They were sat at a U-shaped booth that was dimly lit and above the chaotic dancefloor that sounded below, their elevated position giving them a glamorous view of the most famous club in the city.

“Let me get this straight, your plan is to blackmail your cousin into signing off on this deal?” Namjoon clarified while pouring the trio drinks.

Taehyung shrugged and raised the glass that was handed to him up to his mouth, sniffing the over-priced alcohol before taking a chug of it. “Why not? Business isn’t meant to be all clean and squeaky.”

“Still, you’re out of your mind if you think your uncle isn’t going to get you after this.” Jin retorted from Taehyung’s other side.

“Jin, don’t think that I don’t know how you avoided giving your tax statements to the IRS.” Taehyung bit back, not liking the hypocritical behavior of his comrades.

All the men at that particular booth were wealthy ceos who ran as kings in this particular city. Taehyung wasn’t sure if he liked the term ‘friends’ but at the very least he considered Namjoon and Seokjin as allies in the cruel world of business. He tolerated the two more than he did most.

The discussion went on for another hour of so, drinks fading Taehyung’s mind as the man’s speech became increasingly more and more slurred with every topic they covered. These topics ranging from the current market to interesting endeavors they have faced lately in their line of work. The drinks continued to pour, the bottles were bottomless for such rich men. His inhibitions were lowered as well as his morals (what little there was left for him).

He didn’t quite know how or when she ended up in his lap, but he did nothing to push her off.

All the molasses covered words she purred into his ear seemed all too appealing.

Her hold on him was instantaneous, something about her screamed a comfortable sense of familiarity that he couldn’t deny for the life of him.

The rest of the night was blurry, but a clear conclusion formed when Taehyung woke up the next morning with a stranger in his bed.

–

She looked like you.

Alot.

The resemblance was striking and uncanny.

From her (color) hair, to her docile little features, to the figure shape and even the height.

If you had a twin sister, Taehyung was positive that he just fucked her into oblivion.

Taehyung had awoken the next morning with a feeling of arms around his waist and another body sharing his satin sheets. This was not necessarily a new sensation given he had his own fair share of one night stands. But he was not prepared for what he saw when he rolled around to see which nameless woman it was this time.

For a moment, his groggy mind couldn’t comprehend that it was not you, for his brain simply matched up the looks very easily and deduced it as such.

However after a moment of closer inspection, he noticed that it was a doppelganger but not the real you. The alikeness only took up his mind for a brief moment before he was forced to spot something else while studying the intruder.

She had bruises.

Hand marks around her neck, blotchiness of getting spanked on her ass, love bites that were borderline black littered her body and those ruby stained lips were swollen and cracked from assault of the mouth.

Taehyung was taken aback by the sight of such brutal violence that marked her otherwise smooth and unbothered skin.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed that this girl was the victim of abuse. Yet the fact that she was in his bed had lead to the conclusion that he himself must’ve been responsible for such injuries.

He always knew that he was rough in bed, but he never went as far as he clearly did last night with this woman.

It was jaw dropping and a twinge of guilt even glimmered in his otherwise dead heart.

He must’ve put this girl through hell itself last night just to satisfy his sick primal needs. And later when he made his way to his kitchen (after telling his maid to wake the girl up and kick her out) an alarming thought bestowed upon him that was too spot-on and shameless for it not to be true.

It was no coincidence that the one girl he slept whom held so much resemblance to you lead to the wildest night that unleashed his true sadism like it never had been before.

His intoxicated self had connected the dots for him to face when he sobered up.

He wanted to leave those marks and bruises on you…not her.

–

Your body was failing you.

The moment you woke up that morning, a sense of doom was in the air as you discovered your nose was stuffed, throat sore and stomach uneasy. You were sick.

If God had granted you a nicer boss who understood the human body and the occasional decline in health, perhaps you would’ve called in for a sick day. But asking Kim Taehyung for a sick day was like asking the Devil to read a bible….you might as well have just asked for a gruesome death. Taehyung didn’t believe in sick days and you were not in the mood to begin another fruitless job search, so you decided to take some aspirin and soldier on to the office.

“Coffee, bagel…you know the drill.” Was the first words Mr. Kim greeted you with when you entered his office for the morning rundown. He seemed oddly quiet this morning and he refused to look up at you from his desk. Which was somewhat concerning given he always glared up at you whenever he barked out his demands. You simply nodded and attempted to shrug off this break in character before going off to make your first run of the day.

When you returned with the usual coffee and bagel in hand, you discovered that Taehyung was not in his office at all. You stepped out in search of him and Irene seemed to notice your struggle before telling you; “Oh, he didn’t tell you? He’s in a meeting right now with Mr. Jeon. Check the conference room.”

You quickly thanked her and made your way over to said room.

You swung the door open to see two men (one being Mr. Kim and the other being yet another handsome but youthful man in a suit) talking with hushed tones that held a underlying vibe of anger.

“Taehyung don’t fucking try me I swear to-”

“I’m not trying anything, Jungkook. I think you got a little comfortable with your position without keeping in mind how you got there.”

“Excuse me? Was this your plan all along-”The other man (who must’ve been Mr. Jeon) suddenly stopped talking as he noticed your form standing by the now ajar doorway.

This caused your boss to turn and face what took the other’s attention from the conversation at hand. Taehyung looked at you with a scowl plastered on his aristocratic face, eyes ruthless as they bored right through you.

You froze in place as your blood ran cold.

You realised too late that you had made a mistake.

You were in trouble.

“What the fuck did I say about knocking?! You worthless bitch, does your stupidity know of no bounds?” Taehyung snarled, causing your stomach to drop.

“I-I just wanted to give you the coffee and-”

He cut you off, “Details of your incompetence do not interest me.”

Maybe it was because you were sick that your emotions were a tad more sensitive than usual, but for the first time you felt your eyes sting with the incoming tears that welled up in your vision. Your body already felt beat but now your self-esteem took a plummet as well. Taehyung continued to glare at you but you tried to blink the tears away before they could fall.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered before rushing to plop his food onto the table before him and scurry out of the room.

–

Your brain was pounding as if a hammer was rutting against it with a vengeance. Your stomach was twisted in knots as your throat screamed for some type of soother for the scratchy ache it was suffering. You sniffed once more and attempted to focus on the task at hand, answering calls left for the office, but your lids kept dropping due to your drowsy state. You still were licking your wounds after what had happened earlier that morning, for the first time on this job- you fucked up.

You weren’t baffled at Mr. Kim’s reaction, in fact it was to be expected for him to lash out like that. The only cause of disappointment was in yourself. You messed up when you shouldn’t have and unknowingly let the fucker get to you. You hated the fact that he saw you near tears, you hated letting him see you in a vulnerable state. You hated that you almost cowered in fear and let him smell the fear off of you. You were no better than the girls before you. You were proud to think that he would never get under your skin and that you would continue to pull everything off.

But of course there was such thing as the ‘straw that broke the camel’s back’.

You didn’t want to face him, but after the morning progressed into the early afternoon; you were called into Mr. Kim’s office.

“I need a copy of the sales reports on my desk within the next hour. There will be a board meeting at one so I’m going to need you to sit in on that and take notes. I will be going out for lunch via the reservations you made yesterday so if you can call beforehand to double-check that would be great. Also call Kim Namjoon and raincheck drinks at Oliver’s, tell him that I’m free tomorrow night but not tonight. As for now, my brother recently had a baby so I need to send flowers, go out and get some ordered and delivered to the local hospital.” He said all of this without looking up at you once during the dialogue, eyes scanning a paper before him as his deep and cold voice filled the room.

You sniffed out of instinct that can’t be helped when one is ill, to this he looked up at you in neck-breaking speed.

You thought that perhaps he was going to comment on your obvious impaired state now that he was viewing you, but instead he quirked a brow and asked harshly, “Any questions?”

You shook your head no as you ran the mental list once more in your head.

“Then get out of my office.”

–

You waited for the elevator to ‘ding’ with it’s familiar arrival.

You needed to leave the office and get those flowers your boss had asked of you, but also you needed to be back in time for that meeting. So once again, you found yourself in yet another rush. Unfortunately, the fact that Mr. Kim’s office floor was the very top one meant that you had to factor in an elevator ride to and from the top whilst going on these errand runs.

You sighed in impatience as a few more seconds passed, time eating away more than you would have liked it to.

Finally you heard a small sound that signalled an incoming elevator, you entered it when it’s silver doors opened for you.

You leaned against the wall and awaited it’s closure, but right when it was about to shut, a pale and veiny hand stuck out to stop it.

He stepped in, his face being familiar but not enough for you to correctly place your finger on it. He looked at the buttons but he didn’t click any when he saw that you both were heading to the main floor.

The doors closed and you both quietly felt the elevator descend downwards, the two of you facing the doors.

Once again, your sickness caused your nose to sniffle and this brought the attention of the man in the closed space with you.

He turned to face you. His doe eyes studied you for a moment, before a look of realization sparked in his inky orbs.

“Are you Taehyung’s assistant?” You meekly nodded, just now noticing that this was the ‘Mr. Jeon’ that was in the meeting you had interrupted earlier that morning.

You felt his gaze run down your face (which you knew was most likely pale and sick looking with a reddened nose to top it off).

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier…my cousin has always been a jackass.” He told you gently with that high-pitched voice of his that held a light musical tone. You felt your eyes widened in slight surprise at the ‘cousin’ part, but nonetheless you kept your mouth shut. You wanted to ask how the hell this guy was related to the spawn of satan himself, Mr. Jeon having a friendly and amicable tone while Mr. Kim had stick shoved up his ass 24/7. “How long have you been working for him?”

You didn’t know why he seemed so interested in that, but given he was your superior you answered; “A little over a month now, sir.”

He snorted at the ‘sir’ part but looked at you pitifully as even he must’ve known how hellish that month must have been for you. It was silent for a moment and you both felt the elevator slow down, telling you that you were about to arrive at the lobby floor.

“This might be a little unorthodox, but my company has a paid internship program if you’re interested. It only lasts six months but if your work ethic is good, we can hire you as a full-time employee after those months are up.” He dug into his suit and pulled out a business card before handing it to you.

The doors opened and he stepped out, calling out from over his shoulder; “It’s not much, but it’s better than working for that asshole.”

–

Taehyung was…sinisterly pleased.

When you had walked in that morning without knocking, he was thrilled to finally be able to reprimand you. Sure, it was a small and silly mistake. But it was the first slip-up you had in a month, and of course he was going to pounce on that.

The image of your glassy eyes blinking furiously away at stubborn tears was too good for it to not be burned into his memory. The embarrassment that burned your face with a gorgeous crimson glow was a mouth-watering sight to behold. When your lip wobbled and voice broke as you for once showed him a side of you that he never saw before (a broken and weak one) he couldn’t deny the bliss that overtook him in that moment.

He broke you.

He won.

He wanted to see it over and over again, your watery eyes and pained face that was laced in humiliation. The experience triggering a taboo sense of arousal that had Taehyung taking care of himself under his desk minutes after the meeting finished.

How badly he wanted to be the master of any further emotions of degradation, sadness or pity.

How badly he wanted that expression to be saved for his eyes only.

How badly he wanted to push you to your limits….

It took a lot of Taehyung to not tease you when he had given you your chore list of the day. He limited eye contact and pretended to be engrossed in a stupid HR letter to maintain an image of aloofness. But, it was important that you saw him as cold and unforgiving. A sadist needed to be feared.

He awaited your return eagerly for the meeting that was to be held later that day. He wanted to see if he would have a chance to yell at you and potentially embarrass you further in front of a board of directors. But when he finally walked into that meeting with expectations set of you being there; Irene was in your spot with a notepad in hand.

“Where’s Y/n?” Taehyung whispered in the middle of the presentation to one of his most loyal employees.

In response, she nudged over a paper, still frantically jotting down information that Taehyung lost interest in long ago.

Taehyung’s hands shook in fury as he read the lines over and over again.

It was a letter of resignation.

–

(Two Months Later)

You sat in front of this old and serious man as he looked over your resume once more through his thick prescription glasses.

Your internship with Jungkook’s company did not last long. Not due to a falling out or lack of good work ethic on your part, but due to a mysterious tanking of his company as insider trading and supposed tax evasion caused the business to fail.

Although, this was the story that was released to the press. Loyal workers of the Jeon Corporation will tell you that Kim Taehyung had framed him in a effort to get rid of competition. Somehow, this story was more believable to you than the one the news reported on.

Either way, you were out of a job and desperately needed to find a way to make a living. So here you were, interviewing for some shitty saleswoman position in effort to pay your rent.

“I must say…you have a lot of nerve being here today.” The old man grumbled after looking over his notes once more. You spluttered in confusion at this rude comment. The interview had been going well…what happened?

“Excuse me?”

“We called your former employers for a reference but since your most recent employer is facing jail time, we had to call the one prior to that. CEO Kim Taehyung sent us a fax that said as a worker you have ‘problems listening to specific instructions, lazy and incompetent, and the worst mistake my company will make by hiring you for you cannot handle a shred of responsibility.’”

Your mouth went dry as you pictured the boss from hell laughing evilly as he sent this fax, most likely trying to ruin your life as some sort of sick entertainment.

“I-I can explain plea-” you attempted to speak, only to be cut off with just a look.

The old man looked at you with critical beady eyes as he pointed to the door and said, “I think you should leave.”

–

You stormed into the familiar office with a rage you had never felt before.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and your very livelihood was just fucked with. How were you supposed to pay your bills or even afford to sustain your basic needs when you had someone like Kim Taehyung telling all future employers that you were ‘the worst mistake a company could commit’?

He called you lazy and incompetent! Not once did you fail him in any regard bigger than forgetting to knock on a door one time. You waited on that man hand and foot while allowing yourself to be degraded in the process.

“Where is he?!” You growled to Irene from her usual spot at the front desk.

“Y-Y/n, calm down, okay? I know what he did bu-”

“Where!” You exploded, sick and tired of her always defending him despite all the evidence of him being a devil and ruining innocent people’s lives.

She looked in your eyes and knew that she wasn’t going to convince you to leave. Irene sighed in defeat and muttered, “In his office.”

You ran to his office and visously ripped the door open to enter his little lion’s den that so many careers have met their end in.

He was seated in his lounge area, a glass of Scotch in his large golden hand as he looked up at you in a bored yet amused stare.

You approached him and he just grinned, a whimsical delight spreading across the elegant canvas that was his face.

“Y/n, I was expecting you! Can you get me a refill babe? Ever since you’ve left I’ve had to get my own and frankly, I’m kinda tired of it.” He casually called out, shaking the glass in your direction.

Your brow ticked in annoyance and you noted that it only made him smirk even wider.

So your suspicions were true; he did take pleasure in the pain of others.

“What the fuck?! What was with that reference you gave to that company?! You know damn well that I was the best assistant that you’ve ever had, and this is how you repay me?! Why? Why do you hurt me so much?” You hoarsely yelled as your voice gave out in the end, sadness beginning to overrule anger as you realized just how little your life meant to someone as big as him.

Taehyung was quiet for a moment as a somber look shadowed his face.

Then a chuckle.

That chuckle bled into a thunderous and roaring laughter as he clutched at his stomach. After a solid minute of him laughing like a crazed person, he wiped his tears away and seriously stated;

“Because I like hurting you. And you will learn to like it too. Did you think you could leave that easily? Don’t be stupid sweetie, it’s not a good look and I know you’re better than that. You might as well come work for me given that no other employers in a hundred mile radius will hire you.”

He got up and slowly stalked towards you.

“You should know better than to try to leave someone like me. But don’t worry, I’ll clear matters up in that dumb little head of yours. You’re not just an assistant and I’m not just your boss. Your my pet and I’m your master. I don’t care if you like it or not, because you only have two options. Accept it, or never get a job and starve out in the streets. You will only ever work for and serve me. Sorry I didn’t run that past you when you were working here earlier. I wanted to slowly progress our way there but you left before I could have the chance. Now I have no choice but to push this all on you.”

He was only an inch away from your face now, beaming at your shell-shocked state before he plopped his drink into your hands.

“Now….I believe I asked for a refill.”

(oooof this was kinda trash so srry but that. It ran for longer than I wanted it to so im sorry if it’s long winded. Also spacing might be weird bc my computer is on crack cocaine so that’s fun. Anyway, for inspiration I used @mint-yooxgi‘s Baekhyun yandere CEO story but obvi hers is much better so like check that out. Lemme know what you think and this is chinkbihh signing off.)

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ficklefics · 4 years

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Friends Like These: Chapter Twenty-One - The Tide Turns

No exclusive event in Gotham is safe from trouble - especially not when Bruce and Harleen are involved.

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER TWENTY

Chapter Warnings: Violence, threat, fighting

The view from my apartment is breath-taking. I can see right across the city and across the river. The reflection of the moon ripples in the water, breaking apart and coming back together. The city is buzzing with energy and excitement. The New Year always brings new hope for a fresh start – even if things only get worse.

My focus shifts to my reflection in the window and I adjust my hair, making sure it sits just right. I’ve kept it down, even if it isn’t particularly appropriate, so that I can hide the scar that mars the back of my shoulder. There’s nothing I can do about the one on my forehead, but at least the worst is hidden away. I adjust the evening gloves I’m wearing and take one final glance in the mirror. All in black, a strapless dress that flares out at my waist and ends just below my knees, and heels that I like to think could kill a man. I’m ready. The speech is in my purse, ready to go. Short, simple, but hopefully effective. A glance at the clock tells me that Bruce will be here in five minutes. One last thing. I cross the room to my wardrobe, walking in and bending down in front of one of the chests of drawers, opening the very bottom. Under the layers of scarves and hats lies the dagger in its sheath. Turns out it’s designed to fit around my thigh, under a skirt or over jeans. I still haven’t figured out why he gave it to me. Part of me feels as though I should wear it tonight, but I know that’s a recipe for disaster. Logically I’m aware that the party will be completely safe, but my brain is screaming that somehow Jerome will come in, that he’ll ruin everything, that he’ll hurt someone. That I won’t be able to stop him. That I won’t want to.

The buzz of the intercom makes me drop the dagger back into the drawer in surprise. I stand up and kick it shut, hurrying to answer. “Hello?” “It’s me,” Bruce’s voice comes clearly out of the speaker. “So mysterious,” I chuckle, “I’ll be down in a minute.” I grab my purse and shawl, turning off the lights as I hurry out of the door and straight into the lift – penthouse perks.

Bruce is waiting for me by the imposing glass doors out of the building. I greet him with a smile, and he holds the door for me. I slip into the waiting car to find Alfred sitting in the driver’s seat. “Hi, Alfred.” Bruce climbs in after me, closing the door behind him and prompting Alfred to drive off. “Good evening Harleen.” His eyes meet mine in the mirror for a brief second before focusing back on the road. “Ready for an evening of fun?” I joke. Bruce groans, leaning back into his seat. “You know you don’t have to stay for the whole thing?” “I do. I want to support you, Quinn.” I huff at the nickname, rolling my eyes. “Just cause Selina calls me that doesn’t make it okay for you to.” He laughs at my grouchiness as the car weaves through the heavy Gotham traffic. “If it makes any difference, I won’t call you Quinn,” Alfred speaks up from the front seat, making me laugh. “Thank you, Alfred. I appreciate it.”

It’s not long until midnight – which means it’s time for the speech. I stand up, Wren squeezing my hand before I step away from the table positioned directly in front of the platform that the podium rests on. I climb the few steps and stand next to it, my paper with it written out in front of me. The room – filled with elites, CEOs, other well-off families, and Bruce and Alfred – quietens down, letting me begin. “I would like to start by saying thank you to everyone for your presence here tonight. The Arthur New Years Celebration was an important event in Gotham before we left, and we’re glad to have the opportunity to continue it now we’re back.” It feels as though there’s someone else talking; these aren’t my words, this isn’t my voice. “I would also like to thank my parents, Trevor and Meryl Quinzel, for organising tonight’s event, and all the wonderful staff who helped them do so.” Applause fills the room as my parents nod in appreciation of the recognition: I knew that would please them. “As you will all be aware, our return to Gotham has not been easy. We, myself in particular, have gone through a great deal of hardship.” Sympathetic nodding. Hums of pity. At the back of the room, I see Bruce muttering to Alfred, his brow furrowed. Is something wrong? I ignore them, knowing I have to continue. “But we have survived, and we are stronger for it. And that is what Arthur Ammunitions stands for. Strength in the face of adversity. And we, my family and I, would like to thank each and every one of you for your continued support. You are what makes Arthur Ammunitions the company it is. And now,” Bruce and Alfred are gone. I force the smile on my face to stay, “We invite you to welcome in a new year of prosperity and success for Gotham with us!” One of the servers hands me a glass of champagne, and we lift our glasses as the clock begins to count down the final ten seconds of the year. I chant along with the room, trying to let their excitement infect me. “Three, two, one!” Cheers of “Happy New Year!” fill the room, and a genuine smile breaks across my face for a moment. But it soon disappears when everyone falls silent, their gazes focused towards my left where the sound of a single person clapping echoes. All eyes are fixed on him, horror and terror on their faces. I don’t want to look – I already know who it is – but I force myself to turn my head. Jerome. Wearing a suit, all in black, strolling leisurely across the stage towards me. My grip on the podium tightens to disguise the shaking of my hands. “You can’t be here.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Well, I am so…” He lifts his arms in an over-exaggerated shrug. “What can you do?” He laughs a self-pleased cackle that makes Wren flinch. “What do you want Jerome?” I keep my eyes on him. I can see my family from the corner of my eye, frozen in fear, but refuse to loom at them. This is about me and Jerome. He wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. “You’re a difficult girl to find, Harleen.” “That’s kind of the point.” I need to be careful. Every time we’ve spoken since the school, we’ve been alone. Now, we have an audience – an audience that can’t see any weakness from me. “You’re avoiding me?” He gasps in mock upset, hand on his chest. A smile quickly replaces the “shock”, sinister and chilling. “Well, that’s just rude.” He saunters closer. I stand firm – the moment I show fear I’m dead. His voice drops as he approaches so that only I can hear him. “Especially after I went out of my way to get you a Christmas present.” He leans closer and every muscle in my body tenses. “Did you bring it?” I push him away and step back, almost losing my balance in my heels. I shake my head, my voice lost. “Well isn’t that a shame. I brought mine,” He pulls out a small device – a trigger. The tension in the room rises, a few sobs breaking through the terrified silence. Jerome on his own is dangerous enough; Jerome with a weapon is infinitely deadlier. “What have you done?” “If your lovely guests would look under the tables, they might just find-” A scream from the audience interrupts him. “Bombs!” People immediately leap up and begin pushing away from the tables, gathering at the locked doors. Clearly bombs are more terrifying than Jerome. “No, you idiots!” He taps the trigger against his head in frustration. “They’re gas dispensers!” He declares it as though it’s obvious. Somehow this doesn’t reduce the fear in the room. “What are you going to do with them?” I step forward, drawing his attention away from the others. I hold my chin up, shoulders back, trying to be brave even as he closes the distance between us. “We,” He points between us, “Have unfinished business. And I know you’d never forgive me if I hurt your family, Harls.” I flinch at the nickname as he draws it out. “So, a little bit of knockout gas,” He hits himself in the head, imitating knocking himself out, “And we’re good to go.” He laughs, throwing himself back as it takes over his body. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I protest, ignoring the racing of my heart. “You don’t have a choice.” He mutters, suddenly deathly serious. I can hear sirens outside, and I wonder where Bruce and Alfred went. Did they know something was going to happen? Jerome steps closer, but this time I’m frozen. One more step and the space between us will be closed. I realise that I’m the only one that can stop him; there’s no one here to save me. “Okay,” I spit. “I’ll go with you. Just don’t hurt them.” He smiles, a self-satisfied grin as he offers his free hand to me. “Maybe now you’ll stop denying yourself,” I nod shakily, the slightest nod I can manage, the grin growing darker, and take his hand. I keep my gaze focused on him, scared of what I’ll find if I look at the audience who must be watching us. His grip tightens, and I let mine tighten as well as I step forward. Before I can stop to think, to worry, I throw my leg out and hook it around his, forcing him to fall to the ground. Instead of releasing me, as I’d hoped he would, he pulls me down with him so my body lands on top of his. I don’t let myself be shocked, reaching for the hand that holds the trigger and attempting to force it away from him. He grabs at my hair – why did I wear it loose? – and drags my head back. Immediately my mind flickers back to the dream I had. My moment of weakness gives Jerome the upper hand, letting him flip us over so that he is above me. He holds the trigger above my head, taunting me. The sound of doors slamming open draws our attention away from each other. Someone has unlocked the doors, letting the panicked guests stream out. I see my family at the back of the crowd and sigh in relief. Jerome growls in anger, and I take advantage of the moment to shove my knee between his legs. He groans in pain, the trigger falling from his hand and into mine. I push him away, rolling onto my feet. “Harleen!” Bruce. He’s pushed his way through the crowd – he must have been the one to unlock the doors and call the police. “Catch!” As Jerome struggles to his feet I throw the trigger across the room. It arcs in slow-motion towards Bruce’s outstretched hand, spinning as it moves. Bruce’s hands wrap around it, pulling it close into his chest. I laugh in relief, but I’m not done. “Doesn’t matter,” Jerome snarls from beside me. “We both know you can’t fight me forever.” Something inside me snaps. I turn on him, fists clenched and teeth gritted. “You think you know me.” I can barely contain the anger bubbling inside of me as I step towards him. “You don’t know shit about me. You don’t have power over me – I don’t care about you!” I don’t know who I’m trying to convince – Jerome or myself. He laughs at me. Laughs. And I let go. He’s still laughing when the back of my hand hits him across the face, when my foot plants in his stomach, when he falls to the ground. I follow him down, my fist colliding with his face again and again. He’s still fucking laughing, even as he begins to cough up blood. I’m deaf to the rest of the world. All I can hear is his laughter. “Harleen! That’s enough!” A voice shouts from the doors. Jim Gordon. Of course he’s here. My body ignores him, continuing to pummel the mess of blood that Jerome’s face has become. Heavy footsteps. Running. I’m lifted off of Jerome, my body immediately falling limp and letting myself be carried back. He rolls onto his side, still laughing between spitting up blood. Bruce is staring at me. He looks horrified. I’m not surprised. I am too. I’ve done exactly what Jerome wanted. I let him get to me, and now I’ve shown them all that he’s right. I am dangerous. I am like him.

I stand by the side of the road watching Jerome, strapped into a stretcher, be wheeled into an ambulance. Red and blue lights flash, illuminating the city street. “He’ll be taken to Arkham. They’ll make sure he’s locked up for good this time.” Jim tries to sound reassuring – he fails. “That’s what you said the first time he went to Arkham. And the second.” He sighs. “We need to talk, Harleen.” Jim turns to me, and I imitate him. My family are already home; they didn’t see what happened between me and Jerome. Only Bruce, Jim, and Harvey witnessed the violence, the anger. “What happened in there-” “I know.” “I understand that you’re angry, but you went too far.” I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stop the shivering. “Will you tell my parents?” “No. I won’t tell your therapist either. And you’re still a minor, so we can keep your name from being released.” I give him a look – nothing’s going to stop the papers from making the connection between Jerome and I. “Or at least from the papers releasing what you did to him.” I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling my head start to ache. “What do I need to do? How do I stop him from getting to me?” “You can’t let him control you – you’re stronger than him.” Am I? “Go home. Get some rest.” “Thank you, Jim.” I turn away, preparing to hail a cab back to my apartment when he calls to me. “Be careful, Harleen.” I look back over my shoulder, pretending not to see the resignation on his face, and nod. But I know that being careful is rarely a choice for me now.

“I don’t want you going to Arkham!” My mom’s voice rings loud and clear through the phone. I hold it slightly away from my ear, wincing at the volume. “Mom, I already spoke with the director; he’s happy for us to go on as planned as long as I’m okay with it, and he’ll put safeguards in place so Jerome and I never even see each other.” I’m struggling not to raise my voice – I knew she’d go back on our deal. And it’s stupid; it’s not like I can avoid every criminal in Gotham, especially if I want to work at Arkham – and my plans haven’t changed. “What did you think would happen when they caught him?” I hear her suck in a breath. “I had hoped that they would kill him. Or that he would be sentenced to death.” “He’s insane, mom – they can’t give him the death penalty.” I turn away from the wall and stare out of the window, the city blurry through the heavy rain. “Look,” I try to soften my voice, my last attempt at convincing her. “I can’t let my life revolve around Jerome – if it does then he wins.” More than he already has. She lets out a hum of displeasure, but I don’t think she wants to keep arguing with me. “Fine. But the moment anything happens I am taking you out of there.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

Tags: @psychobitchtess

#flt #friends like these #jerome valeska fanfic #jerome valeska fanfiction #jerome valeska x harleen quinzel #jerome valeska #jerome valeska/harleen quinzel #Harley Quinn #Harleen Quinzel #Gotham #gotham fanfic #gotham imagine #gotham fanfiction #jim gordon #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #harvey bullock

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faerieswing · 5 years

Text

It’s Been A Long Time Coming, Final Chapter

Title: It’s Been A Long Time Coming

Pairing: Solid Snake/Otacon

Rating: M

Summary: The years-overdue conclusion of this story—will Dave finally admit how he truly feels about Hal?

Notes: Can be read as a standalone if you want. Full story available on ao3.

AO3Link

Snake looked down a seemingly endless hallway, checked from side to side and saw nothing but blank, gray walls. He felt a strong unease as he started to walk down the hall, soles of his sneaking suit nearly silent against the floor.

He pressed a finger against his ear and didn’t hear the telltale click that he was connected to anyone on the codec. He asked, “Otacon?” to no answer. Strange. He began to walk faster, no objective in his mind except to get to the end of whatever hall he was in.

The overhead lighting buzzed eerily as he progressed, the hall continuing to stretch off into the distance—he was no closer to seeing an outlet at the end than when he started.

“Snake!”

He stopped in his tracks, whipped around. It sounded like Hal. Snake took off into a sprint. The hall kept stretching on, no doors, windows, or markers of his position in sight. His heart began to beat faster, a numbness creeping up the back of his neck.

“Snake!”

This time Hal sounded even farther away, his shout coming from the opposite direction Snake was running. He spun around on his heels, straining to hear another sound. Nothing. He weighed the options, then took off running again towards the sound.

“Otacon?!” He shouted, hoping for a reply from the codec, from anywhere.

He ran another minute, beginning to come out of his careful, cautious stance, instead nearing a full sprint. Where in the hell was he? Why was he here?

“Snake, please!” The voice was louder, but strained, almost choking. Snake felt a rising panic—what in the hell is going on?—and he only halfway swallowed it down as he pulled out his M-9.

The lights flickered harder above, the temperature seeming to drop. Snake clenched his jaw tight, trying to steady his breathing. Being afraid would do nothing.

“Snake!”

This time it was a full scream. Snake shouted back, “Otacon?! Where are you?!”

More running. More hallway.

Finally he reached some sort of split in the corridor—left and right. He bounced on the balls of his feet, weight each direction, listening hard for any more indication of where Hal could be. “Otacon?” Nothing. He puffed out a hard breath and chose left.

“Please . . .”

Hal’s voice was quieter, heavy with pain, somewhat muffled as if he were doubled over. Snake felt his stomach drop, his ears hot with fast-pulsing blood. He put his weapon back in its holster and took off in a full sprint.

The walls began to twist, the floor lurching as if there were a small earthquake breaking its way through the ground. Snake dodged the waves, not questioning the why anymore. He had to get to Hal. Now.

He tried the codec again—nothing. He cursed as he ran, his muscles beginning to cry out but he drowned the pain in another surge of adrenaline. Someone had Hal—someone found him.

The hallway turned sharply and Snake’s feet skid as he came around the corner. Then he saw movement, pulled up, frozen for a moment.

Hal was being held, an arm tight around his neck, his glasses lost somewhere. Bright red blood trickled down his jaw and neck. Snake lunged forward, wanting to grab him.

“Snake,” a heavy voice said, the man holding Hal. A familiar voice. The face unblurred, coming suddenly into view.

“Fox?” Snake spat out, unable to hide his confusion.

He reached back and gripped his M-9, pulling it out as he side-stepped to try to get a better angle, one where Hal was out of the line of fire. But Fox shifted, too, grip tightening around Hal’s neck. Hal winced in pain, meeting Snake’s eye.

“Let him go.” Snake tried to sound firm, not pleading or desperate but the fear was creeping into his voice.

Fox just smiled, threw his head back some and laughed. Snake raised the gun, but Fox just laughed more, pulled one arm behind him, still holding Hal tight with the other. Fox pulled out a gun of his own—raised it to Hal’s temple.

Snake shouted, “No—Hal!” and started to run forward, reaching out his hand, looking into Hal’s eyes—reaching—

There was a deafening burst, the squeezing of the trigger—

Dave woke up in the middle of jerking his arms wildly, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He whipped his head around, scanning the darkness of the room, sitting upright in the bed. His eyes weren’t adjusted to the darkness, the world still practically spinning beneath him. Quickly he tossed an arm over to the other side of the bed, landed on a jumble of blankets, but nothing else. Fear gripped the back of his neck. Where was Hal?

He shoved aside the covers, moved briskly to the door, swing it open, and winced against the light coming from a lamp across the room. He heard the quiet clicking of long fingers against a keyboard and felt his mind ease with recognition.

He padded barefooted across the carpet, coming up behind Hal, who sat hunched forward in a folding chair, fingers moving quickly across the keys. Dave cleared his throat quietly to let him know he was there before reaching out to touch his shoulder, relief instantly racing up his arms from the feeling of Hal’s warm back.

Hal was focused on his code, so he didn’t miss a beat with his fingers, but turned his head slightly to kiss the top of Dave’s hand, eyes never leaving the screen. “Having trouble sleeping?” He asked in a slightly distracted tone.

Dave slid his hands down Hal’s shoulders to his chest, leaning down to bury his face in Hal’s thick hair. He breathed in his smell, closing his eyes—this was really him, perfectly whole and safe, perfectly oblivious to the dangers waging battle in Dave’s mind.

“Mmm,” Dave grumbled in reply, lowering his face more to press lips against Hal’s neck, feel his pulse point, the beautiful, even sound of his lifeforce. Dave rubbed his fingers lightly into the fabric of Hal’s t-shirt, feeling his heartbeat there, feeling his warmth.

Hal laughed softly, his chest wobbling a little. “I’m getting pretty close to a breakthrough on those security cameras, so I’m going to be a little while yet.”

Dave picked up the hint, but still took a few extra long moments to run his mouth along Hal’s ear, dragging his lips up to kiss his temple, squeezing his ribs sofly. He felt more than heard a sigh escape Hal, but pulled himself away to let him finish working.

“Won’t be much longer,” Hal said quietly, shifting himself around in the chair but not turning around.

Dave shuffled away, looking for his cigarettes. The physical distance from Hal was already allowing the lingering unease from the nightmare to creep back into his stomach and chest. Finding his pack and slipping on a pair of shoes, he opened the sliding door to the small deck area and stepped outside.

It was a cool night, but the crisp air felt welcome against Dave’s hot, sweat-covered skin. He lit a cigarette and settled in front of the deck’s railing, leaning forward on his elbows and sighing heavily.

Flashes from the dream played behind his eyes—Hal’s face skewed in pain, the sinking truth that no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t protect him, from everything, from the world he helped create, from reality.

Dave blew a wisp of smoke out into the night, his stomach knotting itself into a hot ache. He had been stupid to think that things could be different this time—that he’d changed. That his love could do anything but put a target square on Hal’s back. Everyone that got close to him got hurt, even those he couldn’t fully love—Frank, Meryl.

Everyone he ever cared about had been taken from him. Could he really throw that risk onto Hal? Could he handle losing any more? Dave shook his head to himself—maybe his original instinct to run away had been right. Maybe the last several months were irresponsible. Naive.

He closed his eyes and saw Hal’s body dropping. Lifeless. He swallowed hard, taking another drag and holding the smoke in his lungs until it burned and he felt his eyes start to water. The smoke coughed out after another moment, bitter grey clouding around him. What did he really think was going to change?

After the first cigarette, he lit another. Love had made him weak.

Maybe a half an hour later, the sliding door squeaked open for a moment. Dave turned around, saw Hal peak his head out, shudder, then turn around back into the house. About a half a pack of cigarettes deep and fully sunk into self-loathing, Dave turned back around and glared into the tree line. When the door slide open again, he didn’t turn around.

Hal appeared in his peripheral vision, a thick woven blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He held the two ends of the blanket, clutched close to his chest as he positioned himself shoulder to shoulder with Dave.

“The security in the Patriots training facility is the best of the best. I don’t think there’s a single blind spot in any of the hallways or classrooms. It’s. . .” he paused, shuffled the blanket around, “unfortunately impressive.”

Dave blew a last puff of smoke off to the side, snubbed out the remainder into a nearby glass jar he’d been using as a makeshift ashtray. He resisted the urge to put an arm around Hal, instead looking down at the cracking wood of the balcony.

“But I’m working on a way to clone some of the security cameras so we can work around it. It’s not foolproof, but we’ll find a way.”

Dave just nodded, not sure what else to add. He wasn’t in any mood to talk work—to talk about another mission where Hal would be put in danger. Hal must have picked up on Dave’s unease, so he added, “But that’s enough work talk tonight.” He moved in closer, rested his head against Dave’s shoulder. “It is really beautiful out here,” he said softly, changing the subject, apparently knowing Dave couldn’t do it himself.

The resolve Dave built up in solitude wasn’t much of a match for the warmth of Hal at his side. He put an arm around Hal, leaning his cheek down to press against the top of his head. Hal understood the nightmares, knew well enough after dozens of attempts to calm Dave that talking about something else worked best. Dave felt a small pang of regret that he’d put Hal through comforting him enough times that it was almost routine now.

“What’s your favorite constellation?” Hal asked, looking up into the sky.

Dave shrugged, considering resisting the comfort. “Never thought about it.”

“Really?” Hal asked. “Never been much into astronomy?”

Dave shifted on his feet back and forth some, resolve weakening more. “No, too much to worry about down here.”

Hal clucked his tongue lightly. “The stars have everything to do with us.”

“Oh, yeah? How’s that?”

“We’re only here because of the stars,” he said matter of factly.

Dave laughed. “Is this some kind of alien theory? Have you been on those conspiracy message boards again?” He felt the warmth of Hal’s shoulder spreading into his whole body, quelling the loud voices of doubt, at least for the time being.

Hal jerked his head up momentarily to shoot a glare at him, “No, Dave, this isn’t an alien thing.” He shifted his blanket around to be able to attempt air quotes, and he rolled his eyes in a way that made Dave smile. “I’m talking bout the building blocks of the universe coming from the explosions of stars billions of years ago.”

Dave looked up at the stars, squeezing Hal’s shoulder, the cue to continue with the science lesson.

“All the basic components of life as we know it came from the insides of long-ago exploded stars. Oxygen, nitrogen, carbon—all from the insides of old stars.”

“What about aliens?” Dave asked playfully.

“Well, obviously we can assume they are also carbon-based, but. . .” He paused. “You’re making fun of me.”

Dave squeezed him in closer. “No.”

Hal lightly elbowed him in the side, but continued, “The fact that we’re made up of the same atoms as the stars means that we are just as connected to space as we are to the earth.”

“Hmm, I never thought about it that way before.” Dave looked up at the stars, then back down at the way their light reflected off the side of Hal’s face.

“It’s a nice way to think about the universe,” Hal continued, “that we’re all connected by these basic atoms, and that we’re at our core the same, all relatives of stars in the sky.”

Dave smiled at that, imagining the light of the cosmos swirling around inside Hal’s heart and chest.

“When you think of yourself as being made up of star stuff, it’s pretty easy to feel strong.” Hal laughed softly, turned his head to look over at Dave, shifting around in the embrace.

Looking down at Hal’s face, Dave felt a hard tingle in his chest. He looked into Hals’ grey eyes—firmly believing that they could only be made up of the light from hundreds of stars, of all the magic in the universe. Hal smiled back at him, cheeks blushing some.

“It helps me to know that we’re not so different from one another, you know? At our core. That maybe what connects us is stronger than what keeps us apart. Some kind of home in there.” Hal sighed, looking back out into the endless sky.

Dave reached out and cupped Hal’s cheek, tracing the play of the light across his jaw with his thumb. How could he have ever doubted this? How could he doubt Hal’s continued optimism, his unshakable belief in the good of the world?

He stared hard at Hal’s lips, their curve down into his cheek, the upward sweep of his cheekbone. He worked back up to those eyes—nothing short of the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

A little self-conscious, Hal laughed again. “What?” It was his way of asking what Dave was thinking.

Dave felt a buzzing in his ears, his limbs going slightly numb. He brushed his fingers against the side of Hal’s face, rested his touch under his chin. He opened his mouth, could only nervously sigh. Hal tilted his head into his touch, eyes curious and bright. What else was he waiting for?

“Hal, I. . .” he started. Looking into his face directly was too much, so he pulled him into a hug, pressed his lips against Hal’s ear—a few shaky breaths. He felt Hal adjust against him, putting one hand against Dave’s chest, the other clutching at his arm.

“Hal, I love you,” he murmured breathlessly, gripping tight to the blanket around Hal’s shoulders, other hand warmly squeezing the back of Hal’s neck. There was a heavy pause, Hal going fully still in his arms. Dave felt frozen, could barely feel any part of his body, stomach dropping into the center of the earth.

Hal pulled back, looked up to search Dave’s face, his eyes wide open, mouth shaking. “S—say that again,” he stuttered out, his voice full of disbelief.

“I love you,” Dave said again, the phrase feeling foreign on his tongue but not at all in disagreement with his heart.

Hal’s face brightened, the doubt slowly fading into surprise. His cheeks grew pinker, flushing all the way up his neck and to his ears. “Oh . . . I . . . thought I’d misheard you,” he said softly, looking away some for a moment. Then he focused back on Dave, licking his lips. “R—really?” he asked, earnest.

Dave’s heart melted, drowning all of the nasty thoughts his brain could think up, all of the fear and doubt. A surge of affection nearly dropped him to his knees, and he couldn’t hold Hal close enough.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching up and running both hands through Hal’s hair. “Really.”

A smile blossomed across Hal’s face that put the entire galaxy to shame. Dave leaned in, kissed him gently, slowly, tasting everything about the moment. Hal kissed him back, dropping his blanket and grabbing the back of Dave’s head, lifting up on his toes to meet him fully, hip to hip, chest to chest.

“Dave,” he murmured, lips loosely kissing between sighs. “I never thought. . .”

Dave held Hal’s face close, palm against the back of his head. “Me neither,” he said, nudging his nose against Hal’s chek

With a long sigh, Hal dropped his head to Dave’s shoulder, burying his face in his chest and neck, shoulder shaking some. Dave put both arms around him, holding him tight. “Oh, God, Dave, I am happy and terrified at the same time. Ha, what. . .”

Dave could relate so closely to that sentiment that he couldn’t help but laugh. “What do we do now?” he finished for him, rubbing Hal’s back.

“I don’t know. I never thought this would happen. Never to me.”

“Does that mean you feel the same way?” Dave questioned, voice gentle.

Hal immediately pulled up, looked wide eyed at Dave, horror stricken. “Oh, God, yes. Yes! Of course. I’m so sorry, I just got caught up and—”

Dave brushed the backs of his fingers down Hal’s cheek, slowing him down. Hal flushed again, licked his lips, then locked eyes with Dave, face turning very serious. “I love you.”

A warmth blossomed out from the center of Dave’s chest, spreading all down his limbs, his head feeling slightly fuzzy. He smiled, feeling his face flush with relief, the revelation that he’d opened his soul up and hadn’t had it stepped on.

With equally pink cheeks, Hal leaned back into Dave’s chest, clutching tight to his back, face buried in the smoky heat of his neck and chest. “Have you ever . . . before?” He asked softly.

Dave wrapped his arms around Hal fully, threading fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. “Not like this,” he answered truthfully.

“Yeah,” Hal nodded against his chest. “Yeah.”

They held onto each other for several moments, the gravity of this change settling around them. Dave felt a pang of worry about what this was going to mean for the future—would he really be able to take the risks necessary during missions, knowing that any misstep might keep him from coming home to Hal? Would Hal let him take on some of the riskier moves? Was that really such a bad possibility?

“Come on, let’s go inside before you turn into a popsicle.” Hal quickly agreed, taking Dave’s hand and pulling him back into the house.

** In the bedroom, Dave sat lightly on the foot of their bed, holding onto both of Hal’s wrists, gazing up into his face.

Hal smiled down at him, cocking his head to the side coyly before crawling into Dave’s lap. Hands quickly encircled Hal’s hips.

“How long have you known?” Hal asked, leaning in to murmur against Dave’s ear.

“A while.” He nuzzled into Hal’s neck. “The summer.”

A quiet tsk came from Hal. “Summer—you sure do keep a guy waiting.”

Dave had to laugh at that. “I could say the same to you,” he countered, slipping fingertips below Hal’s loose shirt. “How long have you known?” He squeezed Hal’s waist.

“Hard to say,” he replied, lips ghosting against Dave’s earlobe.

“Hard to say?”

A chuckle, then a warm kiss below his ear, another between neck and shoulder. Dave ran his nails lightly down Hal’s back, closing his eyes. “In a way I knew that very first night we kissed.”

“Oh?”

Hal lightly traced down Dave’s shoulders with his palms, kissing his neck more deeply. “Yeah. I knew something was different. You know?”

“I do,” Dave nodded, one hand coming up to draw connected circles on the back of Hal’s neck, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Never felt anything like that before.” Hal kissed the side of Dave’s jaw, beginning to gently sway forward and backward against Dave’s hips.

A warmth trickled down from the base of Dave’s skull, his skin starting to heat up. He gasped quietly, pulling Hal in a little closer.

“It’s a cliche, but,” Hal paused, tipping Dave’s face to the side with his fingertips, looking him in the eye, “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Dave stared hard back into Hal’s eyes, stomach fluttering, breathless. “You saved me first,” he managed. Hal smiled, flushing a little. “I love you so fucking much, Hal.” Dave quickly closed the gap between them, kissing Hal, opening his mouth to pull in his upper lip, hands firm on his hips.

“I love . . . you, too. . .” Hal murmured between kisses, starting to grasp at Dave’s chest and back, fingers wrapping in his shirt.

Dave ran open palms up Hal’s back, clutching at the thin fabric of his shirt. He wanted to touch everywhere at once, to practically climb inside him. His hands ran down Hal’s back and sides, fingertips sliding down the waistband of Hal’s pajama pants, gripping his hips and tugging him forward, arching his own hips upwards in return. Dave felt Hal slip his tongue into his mouth, tilting his face to the side, tongues rubbing gentle circles against each other, breathing heavy already.

“I never want to let you go,” Dave gasped as Hal pulled away to kiss the side of neck.

“I never want you to,” he murmured, hands coming to either side of Dave’s face. Hal pushed back Dave’s hair, watching him with dark eyes, mouth parted. “Fuck,” he breathed, then dove back in to kiss him, open mouthed and filthy.

Despite wanting to take his time, really savor the moment, Dave found one of his hands pressed between their bodies, palm rubbing against Hal’s cock through his pajama pants, teeth tugging on Hal’s lower lip. Chills ran down his arms as Hal’s hips canted back against his hand. He tipped Hal backwards a little as he rose off the bed some, surging forward to deepen their kiss more, holding Hal’s hips with both hands now, his cock pushing against the base of Hal’s.

“Here, let me,” Dave mumbled, pulling back some so he could pull Hal’s t-shirt over his head. Hal wiggled around on his lap, smiling back at him—Dave wasn’t sure if his heart could feel any fuller. He pressed his lips to Hal’s chest, lining open-mouthed kisses from one nipple to the other. “Your body is perfect,” he said, breath hot against Hal’s pale skin. “I can’t get enough of you.” The light wasn’t very bright in the room, but he could see Hal’s skin growing slightly pink.

Before he Dave knew it, Hal’s pajama pants landed on the floor, his own quickly following, then he heard the sound of their bedside drawer opening, a bottle and foil package pressed into his hand as Hal moaned against the side of his neck, “Please.”

Hal stayed on Dave’s lap, knees against the bed, arms wrapped around Dave’s shoulders, head lolling backwards as one finger entered inside of him. Dave kissed and bit up the side of his neck, breathing hard, cock twitching as it brushed against Hal’s inner thigh. He tried to take his time again, but Hal kept pleading, “Come on,” so he added a second finger, then a third, teeth against Hal’s earlobe, Hal’s fingernails digging trails into his back.

“Now. Please, Dave,” Hal mumbled, reaching with one arm to grab the lube and the condom, shoving them against Dave’s chest.

In a few moves, Dave was ready, positioning himself, but pausing to catch Hal’s eye before going any farther. Hal stared back at him, mouth slightly open as Dave slowly entered inside, eyes closing for a moment as he softly swore, “Fuck,” but opening again, gaze steady. Dave let out a shaky breath, a shiver running down his back from the base of his skull. He gripped Hal’s hips as he pushed inside fully, holding there for a moment, then kissing Hal’s lips gently as he began to slowly, deeply thrust into him. Hal moaned into his mouth and Dave smiled against his mouth, his heart near to bursting.

Hal raised and lowered his hips, taking a few beats to get in sync with Dave’s movements, then settling into a slow, aching, amazing rhythm. Dave could feel every thrust in his chest, tingles shooting up his back, his arms. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” Hal kept moaning between gasps, his forehead pressing against Dave’s. Dave could feel Hal’s cock dripping, twitching against his stomach as he moved, so he wrapped a firm hand around him, stroking along with his thrusts, still keeping the rhythm slow but knowing neither was probably going to last too much longer, not tonight.

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open, but Dave tried to fight it, wanting to watch Hal’s face. Hal seemed to be struggling as well, but he caught as many glances as he could, surging forward to catch his mouth, kissing him long and deep, revelling in the sound of their breath mixing, bodies coming together, the way his own moans sounded against Hal’s.

The slow motion of his hips, his cock sinking deep into Hal, the feel of Hal’s skin below his fingers, Hal’s breath against his mouth—it was overwhelming, amazing. Before long, the tingles below Dave’s stomach started to pulse more urgently, his hips slowing just a little to draw out each movement, his jaw going slack, pressing his forehead to Hal’s cheek as the waves of warmth kept getting larger. “Ha–Hal, love you, love—ahhhh.” His eyes squeezed shut as he started to come, thrusting a little harder as he did, seeing all those stars in the sky behind his eyelids.

A few moments later, Hal started shuddering in his lap, his muscles clenching over and over. “Oh, God, Dave,” he moaned, coming hard into Dave’s hand, collapsing forward as they both fell backwards against the bed, still tangled up in each other’s limbs.

Hal squirmed around a little to deposit his glasses on the side table, then to find a comfortable position, head resting on Dave’s shoulder. “Wow,” was all he could manage.

“Yeah,” Dave agreed, his head light, chest moving rapidly along with his breath. Could all of this be real, truly real? Or was he dreaming again?

After a few quiet moments of catching their breath, Dave readjusted, moving onto his side so he could push Hal’s damp hair off his forehead. Hal smiled back at him sleepily. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up,” Dave confessed, looking away for a moment, then back to Hal’s gaze, jaw growing a little tight.

“I mean, I am a dream come true,” Hal teased, eyes light. “But I don’t think you’re dreaming right now.”

Dave laughed, leaning forward to press a kiss to Hal’s forehead.

“This is about as real as it gets, I think,” Hal said, voice growing more serious.

“Yeah,” Dave agreed. He settled back against the pillow, reaching one hand out to draw along Hal’s cheekbones with his thumb.

“I am so glad you told me,” Hal said, closing his eyes to enjoy the touch on his face.

“Me, too.”

“I don’t ever want you to stop saying it.”

“I won’t.”

Epilogue Dave peeked into the bedroom, movements quiet so he wouldn’t wake either of them. Hal was on the bed, propped up with a large stack of pillows against the wall. His glasses were still on as he slept, Sunny’s fuzzy head pressed against his cheek, her small body curled against his chest.

Dave used to think there was a strict limit on the capacity of his heart, a limit that was met years and years ago. Then he met Hal. But even then, when he thought there surely couldn’t be any more room left, he just kept being proven wrong. And though it still scared him, sometimes nearly knocked the breath from his lungs, left him awake and sweating in the middle of the night, he was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he deserved this feeling.

#otasune #fanfic #mgs #snotacon #jupiter family #metal gear solid fanfic #this took longer than it should have

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themanguidemg · 7 years

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TMG’s 5 Best Albums Of August 2017

After a slow start, August got swamped in it’s third week which brought us releases by UNKLE, War On Drugs, A$AP Mob, and a few others. As solid as they were, none of those albums made our list due to the high quality of other releases. I’m not exaggerating, some of these month’s picks might easily end up on a lot of Top 10 AOTY lists. Even though they didn’t make the list, I gotta shout out a few dope albums. Action Bronson dropped arguably his best Blue Chips project. Danie Caesar’s Freudian was a great R&B album that definitely delivered from top to bottom. Three Oh Sees’s Orc is a must listen for fans of experimental rock. It borders on all sorts of genres such as alt metal, punk, etc. Also, if you didn’t catch Kendrick’s VMA performance, do so right now.

Enough talk, here are TMG’s 5 best albums of August.

Sean Price – Imperius Rex

(Album Of The Month)

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It’s been two years since the world lost Sean Price, one of underground rap’s most respected MCs. The artist formerly known as Ruck was working on this album at the time of his untimely death. Due to that there was a time when I feared the album may not be released, or even worse, a half-assed half finished project would drop. Instead we are treated to an album that gives the best that Sean P was, and album that ranks among his best and one of the hardest projects of 2017. Let’s be real, Imperius Rex is less of a solo album and more of a team project. According to his Bernadette Price, his wife, Sean was only 4 songs into the making of this album. It was through her guidance, and that of Dru Ha with the entire Duck Down family, that this album was completed.

A well arranged audible beatdown is handled by a lot of P’s previous collaborators such as Alchemist, Nottz, Harry Fraud, among others. They give Imperius Rex the boom bap foundation that Sean P shines over with punishing verses. Lyrically, P’s wordplay remains untouchable and as always he has moments that are equally hard body and humorous. On the album’s eponymous opener, P spits “Ruckus rule shit, get down when the tool click/Tool spit back, impact is like a mule kick/P nice and funky fire/I will fuck you up, He cypher monkey cypher/Medicated, dedicated bastard/Level elevated, tame the educated rapper”. Ridiculous lyrics such as this fuels the album and epitomizes one of the many reasons why Sean P was an underground super hero to rap fans.

Posthumous albums have rarely been anything more than a cash grab, but not this one. Bernadette and the Duck Down team managed to release a project that would make Sean P more than proud. Easily one of his best albums from any stand point. Imperius Rex is a bittersweet gift to rap fans, one of the best albums of the year from an artist who is no longer with us. R.I. P!

Stand Out Tracks: Dead Or Alive, Refrigerator P!, Rap Professor.

Manchester Orchestra – A Black Mile To The Surface

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A friend who shares a similar taste in music hit me up earlier this summer and told me I had to listen to Manchester Orchestra. I’ve been familiar with the name for a few years but sadly never really sat down and gave them the full listen they deserved. Seeing as how they had a new album about to drop a few weeks later, I decided to wait until this release to really check them out. Even though I’m unfamiliar with their previous work, I don’t regret waiting one bit. I normally dive into an artists past work as soon as I realize I’m into them, but right now I’ve been too preoccupied with A Black Mile To The Surface. Even with as many listens as I’ve given it, this album has enough layers and too much to offer and I can guarantee that it will have grown on me much more by year’s end.

I’ll start off with the most obvious reason I love this album, the production is pretty fucking flawless. From the opening number, The Maze, we are greeted by Andy Hull’s soulful vocals and a gospel like chorus drowned in reverb that bleeds right into his own. The instrumentation through out in brilliantly mixed, such as the way the hook explodes on Lead, SD. One of the most standout features in this album is how effortlessly tracks transition from one into the next. The sound design in the transition which features static and background chatter smooths out the listening experience tenfold and creates a truly enjoyable listening experience. Combine all this with beautifully written lyrics and grandiose production through out every track and you have an album that doesn’t deserve to be picked apart into individual songs but explored as a whole. A Black Mile To The Surface is a phenomenal album and I’m kicking my own ass for sleeping on Manchester Orchestra for so damn long.

Stand Out Tracks: The Moth, Lead, SD, The Alien

Queens Of The Stone Age – Villains

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Josh Homme is one of rock’s most brightest renaissance men. A year after producing Iggy Pop’s Post Pop Depression, he takes a backseat in one of his many bands, Queens Of The Stone Age. This time, Homme hands over the reins to Mark Ronson. Ronson is one of the most renown names behind some of music’s biggest talents. From Amy Winehouse to Bruno Mars, Ronson has taken over the pop landscape in the past few years, yet he has never worked with someone as heavy as QOTSA. Villains is the result of these two talents colliding. Keep in mind that QOTSA have always had dance rock tendencies and that base sound gives plenty for Ronson to work with.

The immediate connection is seen on the album’s first single, The Way You Used To Do, a riff heavy ear worm that stomps its way through the speakers. The album’s opener also deserves high praise, as it is one of the best QOTSA songs ever. Feet Don’t Fail Me Now briefly details Josh Homme’s desire to keep moving and make music as it calls to him. “Time to go, regret it later, we’re gon’ take it as it comes/ Future tense meets middle finger, we take the long way home.” he calls out on the song’s final verse. In ways, this might be Homme’s most personal QOTSA project. Villains’ most melodic track, Fortress, finds Homme giving poetic advice to his kids in times of crisis: “Every fortress falls, it is not the end/ It ain’t if you fall but how you rise that says who you really are…” Villains is not as good as Like Clockwork… or Songs For The Deaf, yet it remains a solid effort on a a pair of great discographies for both Homme and Ronson.

Stand Out Tracks: Feet Don’t Fail Me Now, The Way You Used To Do, Fortress

Brand New – Science Fiction

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The past few years have been bizarre for Brand New fans. It’s been eight years since they’re last album, Daisy. In between, there have been rumors, RIP t-shirts, new singles, breakup announcements, etc. All this made it seem like their fifth LP was becoming more and more of a myth. Then out of nowhere, a schedules October release date, which led to a completely surprise album release in the middle of August. The few so-called singles that the band had released are nowhere to be found in this LP, instead choosing to give their fans 12 brand new Brand New songs.

Science Fiction is a departure from Daisy, which was considered their heaviest and darkest release. But they’ve always been a band that celebrates growth, with every release a further change in sound from their pop punk roots. In a melodic sense, Science Fiction ties itself closer to their biggest critically acclaimed release, The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Of Me, but takes it one step further. There are no post-hardcore screams, and even in it’s hardest moments, it’s tame in comparison to previous albums. What Science Fiction offers an acoustic guitar taking the lead in most songs and Jesse Lacey’s vocals at their most tender. The melancholic tone of the album can’t help but feel as a final swan song for the Long Island rockers as their career fades to black. Whether this is really Brand New’s last album or not, they’ve left a legacy that most bands will never achieve, and a stellar final project.

Stand Out Tracks: Can’t Get It Out, Same Logic/Teeth, 451

BROCKHAMPTON – Saturation 2

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Only two months after their first release this year, the Texas rappers drop the sequel in their Saturation trilogy, aptly titled Saturation 2. In case you’re out of the loop, BROCKHAMPTON is a 15 man collective and one of the best young crews in hip hop today. The group has been hard at work ever since Kevin Abstract’s vice series, American Boyband, placed a spotlight on them. Production is once again almost exclusively handled by Romni Hemnani who provides some cohesiveness across the sixteen tracks with bouncy rhythms through out. Whether it’s Ameer Vann’s syrup like monotone flow, Kevin Abstract’s animated delivery, or Meryl Wood’s Jamaican ODB-like shouts, the diversity in each member’s flow gives the group it’s unique identity.

The album starts out on fire with GUMMY; a neck breaking beat serves as a backdrop for all the BH members to shine over sinister keys and a high pitched synth that pierces through your headphones. Out of the whole crew, Ameer and Kevin deliver the best performances through out the album, and they each get a short solo track to demonstrate this such as Ameer’s emotional verse on TEETH. But as strong as their individual verses are, they are strongest when their chemistry shines together. SWEET has the crew at their all around best with upbeat production as Dom McLennon’s wordplay weaves in seamlessly “The original lick-splickety, higher than Yosemite/ Breaking the mold mentally, master with no limiting/ Making ’em say “ugh!”” With their 2nd release this year and almost a dozen videos, BROCKHAMPTON aims to over-saturate the viral hip hop market with quality and originality, and part 3 is only a few weeks away.

Stand Out Tracks: GUMMY, JUNKY, SWEET

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