#i saw him in chapter 140 and went crazy i had to have this man yawll

[holydayaria]

Holding Cell

Yandere Barem Bridge x Reader

Synopsis: You're working with Public Safety and get sent to check things out at the "Chainsaw Man Church". After seeing something you shouldn't have, Barem decides he doesn't want you to leave.

Warnings: fem reader, implied age gap, hostage taking, yandere themes, sexual harassment/assault, attempted non-con.

The bulk of this was initially written right after chapter 140 came out lol ... 4.5k words... tagging @depravitycentral

On the first day of your job, you were given your ID card and assigned to a division. On the second day, you were being sent on your first official mission. Alone.

Your “buddy”, as your higher-ups called it, called out the morning of, leaving this to be a solo task. Normally it would be a big deal, and you’d be reassigned to a different case or given a new partner so you wouldn’t go in alone. However, this time, you were encouraged to just go on your own. Public Safety devil hunters were dropping like flies, and your division was low on staff. Even your new employees remarked that if there was any job to be going alone on, it’d be this one. That you should consider yourself lucky. The “mission” was to check up on a recent church that popped up to make sure no illegal activity was going on. It had gained so much popularity since its opening that it caught Public Safety’s eye. The Chainsaw Man Church; consisted mostly of teenagers and enthusiastic fans. How dangerous could it be?

The church is located in the middle of the city, a high-rise building with a giant Chainsaw Man head on the front. You’re not sure what you were expecting, maybe a traditional church building or a cathedral, but this building looked extremely corporate. You’re hit with a cool blast of air as you walk inside, seeing that the majority of the churchgoers are in school uniforms, high schoolers. There isn’t a front desk or any reception, but before you can look for anyone to guide you through, a short high schooler scurries over to you, nearly stumbling over his feet. He can’t be older than fifteen, he’s already sweating and his dark hair messily frames his face, which is speckled with moles. The kid is already out of breath, hands on knees as he composes himself and straightens out his posture before speaking to you. 

“H-i,” He slaps a hand over his mouth when his voice cracks, and he tries again. “Hi- I’m Nobana, Nobana Higashiyama-  uh, I’ll be ah- oh, you’re from public safety? You’re the one?” Nobana stutters and stammers over his words, nearly unable to stand still. You smile at him, trying to reassure him that you aren’t here to bite his head off. “Yes, I’m from Public Safety, I got sent out to do an inspection, just to make sure everything’s alright.” You talk slowly, giving the boy time to take your words in. He doesn’t calm down, if anything he gets more jittery and nervous. “Right! Right, I know, they told me… Well, uhm, you can come with me, I’ll show you around!” “Sounds good.” You say, and Nobana only nods. You’ve only just met him, and his mousy demeanor is already beginning to wear you down. Surely this boy wasn’t the only one available to show you around, weren’t there any adults here?

Nobana goes back and forth between topics, clearly not very experienced with giving tours. He does not seem to be very well-versed in social interactions in general. You begin to tune Nobana out as you get lost in your thoughts as he rambles on about the different chapters of the church, and how there are even locations in Canada and Germany. You continue to follow Nobana around, realizing that you’re going to need to speak with someone who isn’t a teenager to do a proper assessment of the place. Nobana suddenly stops in the corridor mid-sentence. He had been showing you the numerous paintings on the wall of Chainsaw Man, all in a very Romanesque style. His face pales slightly, and you can hear cascading footsteps coming closer. Nobana freezes up in front of you and stammers, trying to find the right words. As you look to see who entered the hall, a hand comes down on your shoulder, firm and slightly strained. “Oh, you must be the agent they sent from Public Safety.” The mystery man says, standing right behind you. You get a strong whiff of his cologne, musky and smokey. “Nobana, you can go off now, I’ll take it from here.” “Yeth- Yes thir! Sir!” Nobana nods frantically, looking like he’s about to piss himself out of fear (though that seems to be his default expression), and runs off, tripping over himself and falling as he does. 

You turn around and take a few steps back to face the man, unsure what to make of what just happened. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and with a tapered waist. His black hair is tied back into a ponytail, a lock of it falling across his face. His tie is tucked into his shirt’s breast pocket, and you can see his muscles rippling underneath his clothing. A white button-up and slacks. It seems he’s the only adult here, and the only one in the church who isn’t Japanese.. If you had to guess, he could be anywhere from his mid to late thirties. Maybe forty. 

“I’m Barem, I do most of the work around here.” He says, holding out his hand for you to shake. You take it, a bit off guard, with how firm he is with shaking your hand. It feels like your entire arm is getting shaken with it. “Ah, yes, it’s nice to meet you. I just came to do a look around and make sure, uhm, that everything is up to code.” You say, looking up at him. His eyes are so dark that you can’t differentiate between his pupil and his iris. “Uhh, your tour guide, Nobana, said a few things that I have questions about.” You say, and Barem’s smile doesn’t falter. He puts his hands back on both of your shoulders, leaning forward. “Oh, don’t worry, he sometimes isn’t good at explaining things… We can talk, and I’ll answer any questions you have during the rest of the tour.” He muses reassuringly, though you’re starting to regret not pushing for a new buddy to be assigned to your case. 

You would later find that a good word to describe Barem would be levitous.

The tour is… something, to say the least. Barem dodges most of your inquiries, keeping a hand on your shoulder or back to keep you from going anywhere without him. He feels more like a car salesman than someone who runs a church. You’re new to the job and have minimal training, but you didn’t need to be an expert to see that something was up with him. If you weren’t being extra vigilant to make sure nothing was afoot, you might have been swayed by his friendly disposition and his attempt at a charming nature, just enough to ignore certain things. There’s something wrong with him. You couldn’t place your finger on what, but it was just something about his eyes, or maybe it was his choice of words, how close he was to you. Barem was overly familiar with you, which was strange in itself. It’s as if every moment with him was one building up to something, like you were holding your breath as the tension builds up in a horror movie, waiting for the jump scare that never comes.

There’s a peculiar tension as if Barem is just waiting for any reason to do something. In the back of your mind, there’s always a sense that he’s about to attack you whenever he suddenly curls an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer in the middle of his talking. Whenever his gaze meets yours, there’s something predatory lurking in his eyes. It’s like he’s intentionally trying to freak you out. Even if you put his eccentric behavior to the side, the church itself was still an issue. The more the tour went on, the more you began to suspect this church was a front for some sort of drug trade or money laundering scheme, there’s no way these people could be this fanatical about Chainsaw Man. Barem shows you to the chapel, with the pews being decorated with chainsaws, and even a statue of Chainsaw Man himself at the end. The chapel was to officiate marriages because people were getting married in the name of Japan's new hero. Barem left out a few details about that process, and you could tell he was being intentionally vague. He was damn proud of it too, subtly making you the butt of a joke that only he is in on.

 When you go to the bathroom for a small break, even the damn toilets are Chainsaw Man themed. There’s no way they could afford all of this unless it were from drug money, you think as you press the Chainsaw Man soap dispenser and begin to wash your hands. Maybe they’re part of the yakuza? No, that can’t be right… You step out of the bathroom to resume the tour, passing through the mostly empty cafeteria. It feels like you’re getting closer and closer to losing it when you see the menu serving “Chainsaw Man Flavored Soup”, whatever the hell that was.

“So, are you a fan of Chainsaw Man?” Barem asks as you’re both traversing the hallways of the building. Light shines through the windows, and on the opposite wall are taped-up drawings of Chainsaw Man. Most seem to be done by very young children. “He’s alright I guess, he really does make a mess of things though.” You say, shrugging. “Isn’t that part of what makes him so great? All the destruction he causes is the best part.” Barem laughs, and with each passing minute you begin to understand why this guy freaked out Nobana. “Seeing him fight devils, and get cut up and nearly killed, just to get back up and keep going, it’s amazing,” Barem says, and the way he grins sends a creeping feeling down your spine.

The rest of the tour isn’t anything eventful. No glaring issues, but there’s something wrong with this place. Barem wraps things up within the next hour. For a building with forty-seven floors, only around 10 of them have been refurnished, so he says. Though when on the tenth floor, you’re sure you saw a few teenagers, still in school uniform no less, coming down the stairs from the floors above. By the time it comes to a close, you’re back at the entrance with Barem. He puts a hand on your shoulder, leaning in as he talks to you. “Thanks for coming, if you ever want to become one with the church, you know where to find us.” Barem says, though stepping foot anywhere near this place was the last thing you wanted to do. You nod along and smile to be polite, and the small talk fizzles out pretty soon. “Before I leave– I need to go to the bathroom again.” You quickly add, and you can see that he’s straining to be nice. “Right, sure.” 

With that, you traverse down the hallway to the bathrooms, then walk right past them to the elevator. You press the button and once the elevator doors open, you scurry inside. It feels like they take forever to close. Anticipation curdles in you, and you wonder if this is a mistake. It goes up to 47 floors. You should just leave. Just tell your higher-ups that the place needs a second inspection - no, they’ll ask why you couldn’t get it right the first time. Just tell them it’s fine, everything is fine. The guides were just a bit weird, right? No, you can’t do that either. Not with a good conscience. You press the button to take you to the very top, deciding to check out there. Before you can give yourself a second to think, you press the button for the top floor.

The elevator ride up is nerve-wracking, and you feel a pit of dread in your stomach the whole way. There isn’t any soft elevator music, nor are the elevator lights very welcoming or bright. It seems like refurbishing the elevator wasn’t the church’s priority, it nearly got stuck in between the 33rd and 34th floors. As the elevator ride comes to a close, you pull out your handheld radio from an inner suit pocket. You fiddle with it for a few seconds, trying to reach through to anyone. The damn thing can barely get a signal. Either there’s something wrong with this building and being this high up, or Public Safety has made serious budget cuts.

You take some hesitant steps forward, the sound of your shoes hitting the tile floor echoing. The top floor is a descending hallway, with many doors leading to different rooms. You aren’t sure where you should even start. There aren’t any windows here, not to the outside and not to the inside of the rooms. The anxiety in you begins to simmer. You made it this far, it’ll be fine. Sure, you maybe should have contracted with a devil before going on your first mission, but they told you it was just a church—a glorified after-school club for today's youth. You keep these thoughts in your mind as you keep walking, looking for any door that stands out as a place to start. You think you can hear a second pair of footsteps, light and unassuming. When you stop walking and look behind you, no one is there. Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling of being watched, you decide to enter the room closest to you on your left. The plain wooden door has a single sticky note on it, reading “returning at 7.” in a scribbled font. It was barely 4 PM, so you either had 3 hours to get in and get out (which should have been more than enough time), or the note meant 7 AM. 

You enter the room, and it’s not exactly what you expected. It seems to be a slightly below-average employee break room. There’s a water cooler, a leather couch, and a few side tables. On the wall is a calendar, a corkboard, and a whiteboard. Two things stick out to you right away; the corkboard and what’s on the other side of the room, opposite the couches. A large desk with various computer monitors that all seem to display security footage. There are five monitors in total, how many security cameras did these people have? You focus on the corkboard first, which is littered with photos and scraps of paper pinned on. Some of the photos seem like professional shots, ones that would be used for a school ID or a driver's license. Most are high schoolers, others are Public Safety Devil Hunters. There’s a clock on the wall, the sound of its ticking serving as an auditory reminder that you ought to make this quick. You move to look at the computers, finding that the security footage covers more than the church. There was a live feed of the Public Safety Office, some people’s homes, and what seemed to be a school. Before you can even think about what it all means, the break room door opens, and Barem enters with a relaxed demeanor.

“You really shouldn’t go sneaking around, it’s rude.” 

You turn around to face him, your breath getting caught in your throat and for a few seconds, you forget how to function. Barem’s expression is neutral, if not amused, with how things have developed. He’s blocking the door, and though you aren’t completely incompetent, it’s still going to be a challenge to get past him. There’s a total lack of urgency from the man, it’s as though he’s unbothered that you’ve stumbled upon… whatever this is. Perhaps that’s it. He knows you don’t have enough information to do anything meaningful with your findings. 

“What is all of this?” You finally ask, clenching your jaw. If you pulled out your ID and raised your voice loud enough to tell him that he was under arrest, would he listen? Would your radio work this time, or would he catch on to your bluff? You really should have asked for someone to accompany you on this mission. The corners of Barem’s lips twitch into a knowing smirk, and the tension in the room is so thick not even a knife could penetrate it. You find yourself stuck, paralyzed by anticipation. You’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. “What do you mean?” Barem pretends to not understand what you’re so worked up about, still occupying the doorway. That, coupled with the lack of windows, makes the room all the more suffocating. 

“I should go.” You say after a heavy pause, and as you walk to the door, Barem surprisingly moves out of the way to let you pass. Walking into the hallway feels like a fresh of breath hair, but that air is quickly knocked out of your lungs. A large hand finds its way into your hair, yanking your head back before slamming it against the wall of the hallway.

-

You wake up on the floor, your head pounding and your shoulders having a dull ache. There’s something in your mouth, cloth and smelling of something familiar. Some cologne. It puts a bad taste on your tongue. The room is doused in a cold, fluorescent light. From what you can see, it’s the same break room you just tried to leave. It takes you a few minutes to gather your memories, from entering the church to going into the elevator, and…

Barem.

The devil himself stares down at you as if it was on cue that you regained consciousness. Your hands are zip-tied behind your back, though he left your feet alone. Barem grins uncannily, hands on his hips as he looks down at your helpless form. His tie is gone, now being used as the gag to keep you from cursing at him. He’s looking at you like you’re a piece of meat. “Glad to see you’re awake.” He quips. His eyes trail your body, looking for anything in your pockets that stands out, like a knife or a hidden gun. Even some keys could be a danger if you got your hands free. He gets down on the floor, squatting down on his haunches to get a better look at you. Your brows are furrowed and through the gag he’s put in your mouth he can hear your mewling and protesting. His eyes glaze over your rear and without warning, he reaches into your back pocket to pull out your wallet and your keys. Barem ignores your shrieking and the way your body jerks away from him, even after you’ve realized he isn’t going to cop a feel. He stands back up and opens your wallet to get a good look at your ID. Your full name, age, the date of your hiring, and all other personal information. “Ha, I was right, you are a new hire.” Barem grins, eyes returning to you.

You glare back at him, writhing on the ground to try and free your hands, the zip tie digging into the skin of your flesh. “C’mon, you can do it,” Barem says, mocking you with false encouragement. He laughs at his joke and your frustrated expression. You struggle for a bit longer, and Barem decides to show some mercy on your poor soul. He crouches down closer, forcing you to lay still on your back as his hands find your wrists. “Is it too tight? Here, I’ll loosen it for you.” He says, before tightening the zip tie to an unbearable degree. You let out a muffled shriek of pain as the sharp plastic tears and breaks your skin. Barem leaves the zip tie like that, giving you a pat on the shoulder. Barem pockets your belongings, his hand going to your hair and tugging harshly on it. He forces your head to turn at an uncomfortable angle so that you’re forced to look at him. 

His eerie grin is gone, replaced with a flat expression. “So, what do you think? Should I kill you?” He asks, his voice low and with no affect to his tone. “You nearly caused a lot of trouble for us. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to stick your nose into other people’s business?” Barem scolds, as if you’re somehow in the wrong here for doing your job. He lets your head drop by releasing your hair and begins to walk around the room, going behind you and out of your sight. He’s off doing writing in a notepad to the side, occasionally glancing back at you. You twist and try to move onto your side to see what he’s doing. You feel like a beached whale in some aspect, and when Barem glances once more at you, the sight oddly intrigues him. Barem pauses in his writing to watch you with mild amusement as you try to get on your own two feet.

“You came to look at the computers, right?” Barem asks, leaning down and grinning at you. His disposition has suddenly returned to that creepy friendliness with little provocation. Before you can react, he’s already grabbing you up off the floor and sitting you down on his lap while he sits on his chair. You let out a muffled noise, squirming and trying to get away from him. It only seems to excite him, a low laugh coming from his throat.  One arm is curled around your chest, just above your breasts, so he isn’t touching you too inappropriately. His other is around your waist, keeping you pressed against him with your back to his chest. He holds you in place, having you watch the multiple monitors. Cameras around the church, which was now mostly empty save for a few kids staying overnight. Some cameras were around the parking lot, and a few more were in another building you didn’t recognize. Some were pointed at the Public Safety office, and another seemed to be in the hallway and entranceway of a high school. Barem adjusts you on his lap, having you now sit on his thigh, slotting it between your legs. It’s awkward, in more ways than one, but he doesn’t say anything. 

For a few seconds, it’s almost okay. The two of you remain still, Barem watching with amusement as your gaze darts from screen to screen, camera to camera. His hand shifts down to your hip, and his leg moves slightly. Up, then down, and he’s trying to move you against him, trying to create friction between his leg and your crotch. You catch onto it after a few moments, not realizing right away. Immediately, it sets off alarms in your head, and you nearly fall off of his lap entirely and onto the hard floor with how much it makes you nearly jump out of your skin. Barem easily catches you, guiding you back onto his lap. “Aha ha- you’re so jumpy; like a mouse. How did you even get hired?” He teases, moving you up so you’re properly sat on his lap now and not just on his thigh. “Your ears are ho,.” Barem remarks regarding their temperature, his fingers coming to feel the shell of your ear. He’s right, they are warm. He’s so close, you can feel his breath tickling your skin.

Not only that, but he can see from this angle your eyes welling up, and if you were anyone else he might have felt a twinge of disdain. It was a good look on you, though, and he almost pities you. “What do you think I should do with you? Do ya think you can keep your mouth shut and not tell your boss about what you saw today?” You nod, though Barem doesn’t seem convinced. The thought comes to him that you’d make a good house pet. You don’t seem that hard to train. How lucky is he, to get a young, fresh-faced devil hunter in his grasp? He doubts you’d be useful as a hostage or bargaining chip with Public Safety, but he’s sure he can find some personal use for you.

“Here, you want a better look?” He asks again, suddenly moving you off of his lap and bending you over the table, your face squished against the multitude of papers on the surface. Barem stands as he does this, caging you in with his erection pressed right up against your ass. One of his large hands finds its way into your hair, smoothing it over and petting your head, the other resting on your hip to keep you in place. You kick back at his shins, scuffing the leg of his pants with the bottom of your shoe. Barem only laughs, not reacting beyond that. “Oh, you’re cute, you’ve got lots of energy,” He says, moving his hands to the waistband of your slacks. He ignores your shrieking and repeated attempts to get away from him, his hands going over the curve of your ass, feeling up his new prize. “Maybe if you keep making all that noise, Chainsaw Man himself’ll hear you and come to your rescue.” 

The mobile phone on the desk suddenly begins to buzz and ring. The ringtone is a song from a commercial that was advertising Chainsaw Man steamed buns. Barem leans over you to reach for it, thus forcing the hard edge of the desk to dig into your flesh even more. You wince, and he flips open the phone and holds it up against his shoulder. “Yeah? What is it?” He says flatly, and you can’t hear what the person on the other end is saying. Barem is still touching you, his hand going from caressing your hair, back, and hips. “I’m kind of busy.” He says after a moment, and then falls quiet again as the person on the other line talks continuously. Whoever it is, they seem to be of equal ranking in the church. Barem sighs and looks up at the computer monitor, displaying the variety of security camera footage. “Yeah, alright, I’ll come down in a minute,” Barem concludes, not bothering to say goodbye as he hangs up the phone. 

With that, he sets the phone down on the desk. Barem takes you by the scuff of your neck and drags you over to the couch, unceremoniously pushing you onto it so that you’re lying on your back. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, maybe an hour,” Barem says; any enthusiasm he had for assaulting you now replaced with a blank stare. “You just stay here, alright? We can have more fun together once I get this taken care of.” With that, Barem leaves the room, and there’s an audible click when he closes the door behind it, now locking it from the outside. You’re trapped, forced to listen to the sounds of the clock ticking away, a constant reminder of the predicament you’ve found yourself in.

#“why did u make barem like 38 he looks 25-” I LIKE OLDER MEN #i spent so much time proofreadinf this im so tired of it fuck it lets hit upload #i saw him in chapter 140 and went crazy i had to have this man yawll #barem x reader #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #flamethrower x reader #flamethrower devil x reader #yandere chainsaw man #yandere chainsaw man x reader #yandere csm #yandere csm x reader #barem bridge x reader #yandere barem #yandere barem bridge #_barem #_csm

[bitchassbucky]

.zip

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.

A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.

BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

epilogue:

.eps (explicit)

.eps (cut)

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.

Calculated, cold, unnerving.

But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.

“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”

Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.

“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.

You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”

Oh, fuck.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.

He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.

So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”

“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.

“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!

You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”

Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”

“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.

“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”

Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.

You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.

“This better not stain.”

—

He promised thrice.

Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.

You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.

“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.

“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.

A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”

The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.

“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.

“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.

“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”

Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”

Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”

He has to. He has no other choice.

Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.

“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”

He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.

“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”

Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

From Joaquin: Where are you, man?

From John W.: Do you have copies?

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

Urgent: Gross Misconduct

From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?

From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.

17 missed calls from an unknown number

From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!

72 text messages from an unknown number

Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.

His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.

“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”

You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”

Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”

—

Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.

His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.

Why would you leave it unattended?

The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’

Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.

Bitch.

The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.

He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.

“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.

Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”

You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”

Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.

Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.

“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”

You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”

“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?

“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”

He promises a fourth time.

—

Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.

Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.

“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.

“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.

The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—

Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.

You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.

No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.

A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.

Am I fired?

God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off—paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.

You could almost hear what he would say next.

As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.

A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.

You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.

He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…

A good guy? I really thought so too.

Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.

Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.

Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.

You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.

“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”

We? Fuck your ‘we.’

You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”

—

Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.

“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.

You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”

Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”

Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”

As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”

Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?

“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”

Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.

One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.

So, who taught you how to love like this?

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff

[camelliacats]

until the ride ends & even after that (parts 131-140/200)

Drabbles spanning the lives and love of Victoire Weasley and Neville Longbottom.

Chapters 131-140: [FFN] [AO3] | ←   → | start from the beginning

Pairings/Characters: Victoire Weasley/Neville Longbottom, James Sirius Potter, Teddy Lupin/Lily Luna Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini, & OCs

Rating: K+

Words: ~1,680 collectively

Additional info: romance, cross gen, family, angst, fluff, Maydayverse, Next Gen era, 3rd person POV

Summary: No matter what, they would be together. They were always going to be together. *200 short, non-linear drabbles for Victoire and Neville, on love, life, and looking behind them before they look down the road.* [Potter–Weasley family fluff, Longbottom family fluff, and Neville- and Victoire-appreciation.]

*131—Simple*

                 "Ah, Dad, could you help me with this sketch?" Jacqueline asked James.

               He paused making a snack and looked at the assignment. "You've got to draw a mandrake?" He shot a Victoire a look in the living room. "What's Neville up to? We never had to do this sort of thing."

               "Da-ad," Jacqueline insisted with a twelve-year-old's haughtiness. "C'mon! You design wands all the time. This should be easy for you."

               James sighed. "Jac, I can't draw creatures or people. Why don't you go ask your godmother for help? And I'll tell Neville what I think about his assignment when he and your papa get back from being out with Creevey and Zabini… Teachers' night out, my foot…"

               Jacqueline did as he suggested and went to the witch in the living room, joining her on the couch. "Victoire?" she asked, holding the homework up.

               Victoire groaned. "I'm sorry, Jacqueline… I design clothes, but"—she groaned again, cheeks red—"I can't draw creatures or people either!"

*132—Clean*

                 It sort of…beckoned him. It had been doing so for a couple months, calling out to him and taunting him. And now he sat at home like a sad person, staring at his left hand.

               What was he thinking? It was crazy. He was a fully grown man. She was barely a woman. He'd had a family. That had been enough for him. He liked being friends, not just family friends, with her, but…

               Neville shook his head, heat creeping up his neck and into his face as his gaze drifted to the short 'n' sweet missive on his lap. It was a quick, friendly, informal invitation to join her and some of her friends at Florean's. They were having a little celebration for their graduation. But he didn't know what he'd do if he saw Victoire, which had to be guaranteed, as she'd sent the invite.

               His hand scolded him. He was still a man with feelings and freedom, and he deserved the happiness she was offering him. So he left for Florean's, looking for a clean break from the past and a clean slate on which to write the future.

*133—String*

                 "What are you thinking about?" Lily asked, not taking her eyes off toddler Marshall.

               Teddy had his cheek cupped in his palm as he watched his wife and son play by exchanging silly faces. Marshall's hair brightened from a gray grape color to a bright Parma violet. "…just," Teddy said, "about the lines that create a family tree. Our family tree."

               Lily sent him a quick smile. "And? What intrigues the incredible Mr. Lupin?"

               "I suppose the growing years. The ten between you and me. The thirteen between my parents." He ran a hand through his hair. "The twenty between Victoire and Neville, and the twenty-four between James and Justin. The twenty-three between Molly and Michael."

               "Your point?" Lily picked Marshall up and walked over to Teddy. "Don't tell me now it bugs you."

               He shook his head and reached out to hold his son in his arms. Marshall had his—Remus'—eyes. "No. I just wonder what will become of the next generation. And I'm thankful for all that has happened to ours."

*134—Universal*

                 Victoire stomped out of McGonagall's office, huffing. She was grateful for the Floo connection to home in the remaining months, but she was glad the school year was almost over, because she needed her fiancé to be around to scold and—ah, bollocks. In all her hormonal raging, she'd forgotten why she wanted to yell at him.

               She decided to search for him, hoping not to run into any others along the way. But, as luck would have it, two of her old professors spotted her. And they just had to be Zabini and Parkinson–Zabini. "Weasley? What are you doing here?"

               "She's about to marry Neville, remember?" Zabini reminded his wife as Victoire turned, feeling obliged to say hello.

               "Yes, but she shouldn't be just walking around here like this," Parkinson–Zabini said.

               "Hello, professors," Victoire said kindly. She expected a snide remark now that they were all adults.

               But Parkinson–Zabini eyed her big belly, and color flooded her cheeks. "When are you due?" she snapped despite her obvious excitement.

*135—Silver*

                 The slow days could be the nicest ones. Those were the times when it was easiest to convince Madam Malkin to take the day off and to let Victoire run the shop. …all right, so the elder witch so far would only take half a day, but it was a start.

               While Victoire enjoyed working in silence, she also liked the occasional visitor. Today was Lania Jordan, Lee and Marietta's only daughter, and an acquaintance of Victoire's through James. She appeared in her silver Sleekeazy robes with a bakery box under her arm.

               "Hey, Victoire…" Lania cocked her head to one side, her reddish curls bobbing. "I could use a friend. A sister, really."

               "Oh?" The Weasley put her work aside to take her break.

               "Yeah. I mean, Curt's got Troy, but it's not the same, going to him over boy troubles." Lania opened the box to share. "And you know what it's like to fall for an older man."

               "You had me at the treats, mate," the other witch laughed.

*136—Zone*

                 She'd noticed something a while back. Her mother seemed to have a favorite thing about her father. When Fleur thought no one was paying attention, she occasionally would run her hand through Bill's hair. She loved its length and softness, and that kind of thing was silly but made Victoire glad that Grandmam Weasley never had the chance to trim it all.

               And, with Dominique, she had her own thing. No matter how awkwardly they'd have to position themselves, Dominique and Lysander could always hold hands. Even linking a couple of fingers counted. Victoire loved seeing her sister enjoy that closeness.

               Even Louis, in his own way, had his favorite thing. The others thought him lazy or just that Hugo was the taller one, but Louis was always resting an arm or placing his head on Hugo's shoulder. Victoire thought it sweet.

               Now she thought about her favorite part of Neville. He did have a somewhat long neck… The skin was so smooth there… Victoire kissed it, surprising him enough to put his book away in bed. Yes, she liked his soft, strong, ticklish neck best.

*137—Nose*

                 "All right, the trick is to tilt your head back enough to catch them but not enough to get water in your nose." Neville picked up his eight-year-old daughter.

               "Sounds good, Papa!" Frédérique said, and she put an arm around his neck as they stared up at the sky.

               "Neville Algernon Longbottom!" Victoire threw open the back door but didn't dare step out into the pouring rain. "What do you think you're doing?!"

               "Catching raindrops, of course!" Neville glanced over his shoulder, but his eyes were closed to keep out the water. "Didn't you ever do this, Vic?"

               "Come join us, Mama!" Frédérique yelled.

               "No, you two get in here right now before you freeze to death!" the witch demanded.

               Frédérique slipped out of her father's arms and landed wetly on her feet in the amassing mud. "Make us!"

               Only Neville knew better than to taunt his wand-wielding wife like that….

*138—Past*

                 Sometimes she awoke with a fright. She would sit up, clutching the covers to her chest, her fingertips clawing at her chest as if to reach right in to squeeze her heart to slow it.

               She couldn't exactly describe her dream (no, nightmare). It was vague and already fading from her mind the longer she stayed awake, frightened by it. But she knew one thing about it—it was of a past not lived.

               At least, not by her.

               Victoire glanced beside her, catching sight of Neville's chest falling and rising slowly, easily. Even his eyes did not twitch beneath his eyelids, he slept so peacefully.

               She breathed and reclined beside him. She reached out and held her fingers just above his eyelashes, tickled by their faint movement.

               Victoire wondered why she'd dreamt of wartime. That was Neville's past, not hers. But she pondered now the linked dreams of married couples and that there might be credence to them.

*139—Supplement*

                 With them, everything would be complete. At least, that was what Victoire was telling them.

               Lania felt skeptical. She was flattered, just as she was sure Justin was. But still… Lania and Dermot were married and had one son, Herschel, already, but they'd discussed it long ago: The godparents of their first child would be Mallory, his sister, and Curt, her brother. Their second child, should they have one, would have Mallory's husband, Carlos, as a godfather and probably no godmother, but… Lania shook her head.

               She knew James and Maria were Frédérique's godparents, and she was flattered. But Lania still believed that siblings should be the first pick for godparents.

               "Well, it's the belief of me, Dominique, and Louis that siblings are reserved as aunts and uncles. Close friends are godparents." Victoire said it all with a reassuring, soft smile.

               (Lania just didn't figure that, later in life, her goddaughter would also be her daughter-in-law.)

*140—Rust*

                 It had been a while. The Christmas break had been too long ago, Victoire had had to work on Valentine's Day and thus had been unable to see him, and now the Easter holiday was almost over.

               He was back from visiting his grandmother and now he hopped on one foot as he changed. "Grandmum won't mind if I don't see her again this holiday," he stated loudly.

               Victoire zipped by their bedroom on the way to the loo to fix her makeup. Her dress still hung open at the back. "Great! I already told Maria that I'm not free tonight, and Dominique is planning her Transfiguration lessons, so I'm good, too."

               "Perfect!"

               Then someone knocked on the door. Neville answered it, saw Harry and Ron who claimed to have "been in the area," and slammed it shut. His patience was already rusting away—he would have tonight with his girlfriend and nothing would stop that!

Remarks for—

Ch­131: I think this is the first time I've mentioned in this collection that James is a wandwright—a wandmaker. He's Ollivander's apprentice.

Ch132: A throwback to #5—Opening. :D I was kind of wondering how long Neville would put off the "Great Experiment" that is him and Vic. -w- Appropriately, the day I wrote this drabble, the song "It's Over" by Lee Hi came out; not only is it a great, unusual Kpop song, but it really fits this drabble! :O

Ch133: Their son makes an appearance! :') Cookies if you get the reference for his name. ;) Also, this was the drabble I wrote on the fic's anniversary, when I first started writing in my little notebook… Godric, so weird, to have worked on this to completion before posting any of it…

Ch135: Marielee~ -w- And mentions of Curt/Troy, yay! :'D (Some of you will recall them from my Jamestins…)

Ch136: A little similar to #101—Handle. And I hear you laughing, Morghen, because you have collarbones and I have necks.

Ch137: I gave him the middle name "Algernon," named for his relative, Uncle Algie. I think it works.

Ch139: -w- Influenced in part by #119—Cover. :3 The other OCs mentioned will be recognized by anyone who's read my 5th Jamestin, "All We Need Is Now," or subsequent ones.

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

And if you want to support until the ride ends, please swing by its FFN and AO3 versions and consider liking and reblogging these posts on my HariPo fic tumblr!

#hp #harry potter #vicnev #victoire weasley #neville longbottom #<2500 #romance #cross gen #family #angst #fluff #maydayverse #rated: PG #next gen era #3rd POV #vicnev: until the ride ends and even after that

[thiccjuicynut]

So I had an idea for a dead by daylight chapter if anyone wants to listen.

Chapter: The Brave And The Afraid.

Killer: The Paranoiac 

Bio: Chase Winchester was a nice kid growing up. He went to after school activities and Cubs and boy scouts during the summer as much as he could, but he always stayed on high alert due to the neighborhood and stories his parents told him. He also did growing up into adulthood. After almost losing his house and talking with a friend from his childhood whose family was a higher upper in the city, he got his rent paid and after a while of the cycle happening, the friend had cut him off because he hasn't paid them back. One morning he found a guy at his front door, a debt collector. He pushed Chase back into his house and started to fight him. Punches being thrown, cuts being made, and bruises forming was all it took for Chase to get out of his comfort zone of fighting. He got knocked into a vase and it shattered. Chase got knocked onto the floor near the glass and took action, he kicked the guys shin, making him fall and took a glass shard, stabbing the man in the neck. He got the man off of him and realized that he messed up. So he took food, water, and anything he deemed necessary and booked it to the woods. For the next few days of hunting, he thought he lost the people he was running from, so he returned to his house, surprised no one had taken things out, What he didn't expect was to see people in the house, with weapons. They jumped him, hitting him with blunt objects, stabbing him to near death. They left him suffering in pain. He closed his eyes, tears falling down his cheeks. But after a minute or two, he felt nothing but darkness. He opened his eyes and saw he was in his house, but it wasn't his at the same time. He heard people running around outside, and took his initiative to take them out. He picked up a glass shard and walked out, crying, knowing what he was going to do.

Name: Chase Winchester

Height:6'5

Sex:Male

Weapon: Glass Shard

Power: Swift Pounce: If The Paranoiac is by a low surface, he will crouch behind it, his hearing is heighted and he will see the auras of the survivors feet. When the ability is activated, he will jump over and slam his weapon down, if it hits a survivor, they will go down. If he hits the ground his weapon will shatter, then he has to take out another piece of glass.

Power: Deepening slash: The Paranoiac will stand by a wall or around it's corner and slash if activated. The Paranoiac will have heightened hearing and will see that aruas of the survivors hands. The attack will put the survivor down a health state and will give them the haemorrhage status effect.

Perks: (Unlocked at Level 30) Paranoia: You have heard the noises over and over again and can tell where and who made them. Random auditory alerts will appear by pallets and windows. If an auditory noise is made from a survivor and they are on the move, the alert will move with them for 2/3/4 seconds.

Perks:(Unlocked at Level 35) Preferable Vision: You can choose the amount you see. Standing still for 3 seconds grants you the ability to see in two different directions by holding either to the right or left and looking in that direction. Half the screen will be in that direction and the other half will be looking forward.

Perks:(Unlocked at Level 40) Hex: Haywire: You have inflicted the sense of craziness in the minds of your prey. While working on the objective, be it generators, healing, searching chests, etc., the survivors will hear small terror radiuses and see red stains randomly.

Mori: The Paranoiac will turn the survivor onto their back and pin them down and will grab their throat to attempt to choke them, said survivor will punch him in the face, giving them a chance to escape as he stumbles back and they kick him in the stomach, he gets out a shard of glass and stabs them in the stomach, showing his face is full of regret and tears, then he will stab their head and he will get off of them, crying before getting up and walking away.

Add-ons: Common

Torn contact piece: slightly increases the arua on the survivor

-----

Worn Bandage: slightly decreases your terror radius when ability is in use.

----

Scratchy Glass: increases timer on the haemorrhage status effect.

Add-ons: uncommon

Half of contact: moderately increases the aura of survivors.

----

Reusable Bandage: moderately decreases terror radius while ability is in use.

----

Sharpened Shard: moderately increases the timer for the haemorrhage status effect

Add-ons: rare

Colored contact: see the full aura of the survivors limbs

----

Sanitized Bandage: Tremendously decreases time to swing

----

Coarse Glass: Replaces the haemorrhage status effect with the mangled status effect.

Add-ons: very rare

Cloudy contact: see the survivors full aura

----

Fresh bandage: removes your terror radius entirely when ability is used.

Add-ons: Ultra rare

Bloodied Shard: hitting a survivor will give them the oblivious status effect for 25 seconds

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Survivor: Hector Garcia

Bio: A poor kid growing up and normally known as the school bully, Hector Garcia tried his best to keep his strength up. He would get in fights with his brothers and would try his best to win them. He did, most of the time, but he was compassionate and barely showed it. He would play off insults like it meant nothing, but he took it to heart. He would help out people if needed. When he grew up and was out of the house, he would get together and spar with his friends or brothers in the woods. One night, when drinking and sparing, someone hit too hard and he was out, them being drunk had made them to believe they killed him so they bailed. When he woke up he was in a forest, but not the one he was in. He saw a campfire next to him so he just sat down and waited.

Name: Hector Garcia

Height: 5'7

Sex:Male

Perks:(Unlocked at Level 30) Activation Perk: Save Your Friends: As your friends are hopelessly wiggling, you try your best to help. You throw your body weight into the killer as a last attempt to get them free. Only active when in a 3m radius of a carried survivor. Will exhaust you for 140/130/120 seconds.

Perks: (Unlocked at Level 35) Heavy Hitter: You give things everything you've got. For successful stuns, be it with a perk or pallet,you stun the killer for 2/3/4 seconds longer.

Perks: (Unlocked at Level 40) I've Got You: Each time you are unhooking a survivor and are grabbed, you resist the grab and will finish getting the off the hook and you will then be grabbed.

Map: A neighborhood that consists of apartments, mobile homes which connect to a cemetery.

For some, friends mean everything, for others, friends were just a dream and for all, they can agree that some of those friends are worth protecting.

If I get criticism, I'd greatly appreciate it, I'm down for whatever help I can get while making this

#dead by daylight #dbd

[legacy-of-the-westside-prince]

Chapter 4: Introduction to the Vanishing Bride

(Excerpt translation of Miss Sherlock novelization, pg 140-151, notes at the very bottom of the abyss of this post)

Several innocent eyes are laughing amongst the debris. All of the exhibited photos reflect smiling children. A sister wearing a bright hijab. A baby being carried by a mother. In a destroyed city, boys flashing their teeth, grinning. There is no “tragedy” here. These are only everyday things for them, where explosive sounds and gunshots are woven into their daily lives.

[Moriya Toru : Photo Exhibition - There is hope ahead of sorrow]

I received the flyer from Irikawa’s clinic, that was where I saw the printed photographs on them, and from there, strangely enough, I couldn’t shake the image of the solo photography exhibition from my mind. I wanted to see, no, I was compelled, having an unexplainable urge to go. Was it the eyes of a child laughing that tugged so strongly at my heart? Or was it because I didn’t want to forget about the people’s suffering?

Wato gripped her hands in front of her chest. The smiles of carefree children seemed to have erased some of the tension of these last few days.

(…They remain mostly silent during the prosecutor’s interrogation. The psychiatrist also seemed to have given up hope on making any progress.)

2 days ago. Sherlock’s older brother, Futaba Kento, visited 221B, and with a sigh he said:

(I took over the Shiina sisters’ case from Inspector Reimon. Under the jurisdiction of the government, I’ll be in charge of the investigation from now on. But, Shiina Yuma’s tight lipped. It’s as if her mind was somewhere else, it’ll be some time before her consciousness returns to normal. Mizuno Akiko is also an unknown connection to the case. Yuuma’s older sister, Arisa stated that she was just following her sister’s orders, she was completely silent about anything beyond that. I had also tried to interrogate Shiina Yuma herself, but the she wouldn’t even make eye contact.)

As soon as Kento went home, Sherlock began pondering about something for a long time. It was as if she could see something that Wato couldn’t. She wouldn’t strike up a casual conversation, and of course Sherlock wouldn’t voice out whatever she was thinking.

And thus, with such circumstances, for two full days, Wato had waited in 221B for any calls. Wato had quit her part-time job at the library, if the strained atmosphere continued for so long, she would have gone crazy. Whenever Wato is frustrated, Sherlock’s thoughts will be disturbed. And Wato doesn’t wish for that to happen. Hindering and disturbing Sherlock’s work and delaying the investigation of the truth of a case was something Wato didn’t want to do.

“…I like that picture the best.”

An unexpected voice said, Wato turned her head in surprise. Standing was a tall, seemingly shy man. He wore a simple-designed shirt, his face framed with neatly trimmed facial hair. From the way he spoke, it seemed like this was Moriya Toru himself, Wato smiled at him.

She returned her gaze to the picture of the adorable girl. Wato spoke, more to herself.

“She really does have a lovely smile… Enough to forget that she's in the middle of a battlefield.”

That’s right. The innocent voice of a child, their brilliant smiles always made me forget that hell. Wato continued looking at the photograph in front of her. Moriya quietly stood next to her. It was a while until Wato asked him a question.

“…Were you in Iraq?”

“Yeah. Do you know about it?”

“I was in Syria. I volunteered as a doctor there.”

“Ah… Is that so?”

“…Even now, sometimes I’m still unsure. Whether I was useful there. Could I have saved more people? Could I have done more?”

She was pouring out her words, Wato snapped back to reality. Why am I saying such things to him? I’ve never been able to mention all these to even Sherlock, nor Hatano, nor Irikawa. Wato looked up. Looking straight at Moriya. He seemed strong, but there was a hidden weakness underneath that face that could break easily. Wato looked away, not knowing what to say anymore. Moriya’s calm and careful voice spoke.

“I also receive counseling from Irikawa-sensei every time I return home.”

Wato took a breath. She looked up once again. I see. This was the person. Irikawa’s…

“So that was why the flyers were in the waiting room.”

Moriya laughed. A smile that rivaled the adorable child from the photograph.

“…Are you planning to go to the war zone again?”

“Soon. I want to take as many pictures of the people that lives on the battlefield, as much as possible. Their anger and their sorrow… Their smiles showing from time to time, lighting up their faces. They really are resilient. Every one of them has lost a loved one. Yet, they take that grief and look to the future. That’s much harder than wallowing in sorrow.”

Despair and helplessness. Even after being overwhelmed and knocked down, both mind and body are ragged. Yet, there are those that get back up on their feet. Then, there are injured people, unable to escape, having to force themselves back to hell.

Wato herself had seen these people in the same situation in Syria. This Moriya, unconsciously gazing intensely into Wato’s eyes, she had noticed. Her cheeks were warm. When Wato didn't say anything, Moriya’s voice was concerned.

“Um… Are you alright though?”

Wato tilted her head in confusion, not knowing why he was asking such a question.

Moriya continued speaking carefully.

"Do you get flashbacks? When you're suddenly overcome by the memories of war, images and sounds, suddenly reviving in your every day life..."

Wato immediately shook her head, looking at the person opposite her and replied.

"No. Do you, Moriya-san?"

"All the time. I hear the sounds of exploding bombs, machine guns rattling, even terrifying screams and cries. I make myself sound so special, but every time I... I always end up scared and run back to Japan."

Moriya laughed as soon as he finished his sentence, as though declaring that he talked of nonsense.

Wato took a deep breath. This man is... weak. And although he is weak, he acknowledges his fragility and accepted it, yet he was also moving forward in life. Wato felt the gentleness in his eyes, mirroring the eyes of the children in his photographs. The smile on Moriya's face abruptly faded away. Staring into Wato's eyes, and as though he had made up his mind, he said.

"If you'd like... maybe we can talk a little bit more else where?"

—

As soon as Wato stepped out of the shopping district in front of the train station, she felt her cellphone vibrate and stopped walking. Somehow she had a bad feeling about it. Just in case, she checked the screen of her phone, but sure enough her hunch was correct.

A message from the Devil.

"We received Kanbey's Terrine au Chocolat from the client. Buy Asamiya tea."

Feeling indifferent towards the text message, it was a simple, straightforward order.

Nevertheless, for Sherlock, she wouldn't think it was an order. Alright, alright, we were running out of green tea anyway, she thought. Wato placed her cellphone back in her bag. Wheeling around, she went back to the tea house she passed by earlier.

It was plainly obvious to see, her body felt lighter. After meeting Moriya-san, each conversation they had, surprisingly filled her thoughts.

Wato obeyed Sherlock’s orders immediately, most probably because she felt guilty. She did spend quite some time talking with Moriya. Telling her to come back with chocolates, was probably Sherlock’s way of saying that she was concerned — No, that couldn’t be it.

Anyway, the heavy atmosphere for the past few days, maybe Wato felt a little bit guilty that only she went out to get fresh air. Whether they were Asamiya tea, or Terrine au Chocolat, if these can get Sherlock to cheer up a bit, or be the reason to leave her desk, then that was fine for Wato. She quickened her pace. She headed towards the shop with the green banner. Oh, that’s right. I should also buy the matcha pudding too before going home—

The ground shook from an explosion.

Petrified, Wato watched in front of her as the glass windows of the tea shop blew away. Hot air grazed her skin, she could smell burning ashes. Screams. Gunshots. Voices begging to escape. Dust covered her eyes. The air was scorching hot. Suffering — crying. People, the people. A mother, cradling her child affected by a bomb explosion. In the middle of the debris. And then. Gunshots echoing.

Wato sat in the middle of the street, holding her head. Not realizing that tears were streaming down her face, she was weeping loudly. To anyone else, they certainly could only see Tokyo’s monotonous, shopping district, but for Wato’s consciousness, she was seeing something else. She could still hear the gunshots. A shadow of a fighter plane against the clear blue sky, speeding straight above.

—

“…It was really a loud explosion. And, suddenly, there were children screaming and wailing…”

It was a slightly cloudy morning. Wato gave out a deep sigh, she was in the counseling room, painted in a pleasant color. She had managed to get home — after what had happened yesterday.

She had greeted Sherlock and Hatano with her usual tone of voice that she was back with Asamiya tea, they had sweets with it. Everything seemed normal. Sherlock wouldn’t have understood anything. As Wato barely joined in any conversation, she hurried off into bed without giving her partner the time to observe her expression.

Even when she left home the next morning, Wato did not tell Sherlock where she was off to. Sherlock didn’t believe in counseling sessions in the first place.

“…Did you ever experience something like this in real life?” Irikawa, who was listening to Wato’s story, softly asked.

Wato nodded, “…An area close to the clinic was hit by a bomb, in an instant, the whole area was…”

Irikawa waited for her to finish her sentence. But Wato was keeping silent.

“…You’re suffering from PTSD. It’s an anxiety disorder, it’s caused by exposure to traumatic events. Symptoms include flashbacks. Positive thinkers may think they’re okay, but they develop PTSD more easily than others.”

As she had expected… Wato had heard the term before. As a doctor and going into the battlefield, they were to understand PTSD thoroughly. And yet. She thought that she would be alright. She was convinced that she wouldn’t be affected by it. Wato bit her lip. She straightened in her seat and asked.

“Will I continue to have more flashbacks?”

Irikawa’s face slightly softened. Everything in that reaction, was cruelly affirming Wato’s question.

“Although it may not be possible to completely erase such memories, but, certainly, they’ll gradually fade with time.”

Irikawa’s voice was unwavering. Wato gave a small nod. She couldn’t grip her fist properly. Her palms were gradually dampening from cold sweat.

—

She was walking along the corridor, stopping in front of the door that reached to the ceiling. Wato gently gripped the doorknob. There wasn’t a mirror to check her own face — will you be able to smile properly?

Releasing the doorknob, she pushed her cheeks up with both hands. She pushed the door open, maintaining her forced expression.

There were sounds of what seemed like rustling. Sherlock’s back was facing her, and was experimenting with laboratory instruments. Hatano sat relaxed in one of the chairs and was looking at a soft-colored flyer.

Hatano briefly looked back and said, “Welcome back.”

Wato exhaled. Just as usual. Nothing had changed, and nobody had noticed.

“Hatano-san, what’re you looking at?” Wato said brightly, approaching next to Hatano. Hatano smiled and let out a long sigh.

“I’m wondering which one I should go to.”

Wato peered at the flyer she was holding. She read aloud.

“Matchmaking parties! Even for seniors. For widows mourning their beloved husbands. Ahh…”

Wato summarized. I see, there was even this type of matchmaking—

“…Such an illusion!”

“Huh?”

Hatano chuckled. Her reply made Wato’s smile paralyzed.

“To say that all women who’ve lost their husbands are lonely, that’s just an assumption. Some women hated caring for their husbands. They’re finally free to lead their own lives again.”

No no, of course there may be such types of matchmaking parties, but to think that such a statement could come out from Hatano, who had lost her husband, Wato wouldn’t even want to joke about it.

Wato put her hands together, then spread them wide open, reminiscent to that of Maria from the Sound of Music. She replied with much positivity.

“Maybe there are some people like that! But I’m sure there are many happily married couples! To love each other, share their joys and sorrows.”

“Heh. Some people may have participated in killing their husbands.”

Sherlock suddenly cuts in. Why would you barge in this conversation at this time? Wato frowned, her roommate still making that dubious, rustling sound. Wato approached behind her and looked at what Sherlock was holding. Cucumber. Her roommate continued to grate the cucumber guilelessly.

“What’re you making?”

“Toner. For Hatano-san.” A concise answer.

Hatano earnestly replied as well, “Sherlock’s toner is extremely effective. It revitalizes the skin.”

“Ahh. With cucumbers?”

With Hatano’s high praise, and Wato expressing great interest, Sherlock proudly grinned and chuckled softly. At times like these, it was the only moment you would show your true innocent face, huh? Wato could only give her an ambiguous smile.

A cellphone began to rang inside the quiet room.

“Hm? Step aside a little, move, move. Okay, okay. Huh? Anyone seen my phone?”

“Jeez, you always have to hunt down your phone at times like these, isn’t it about time you tidy up a little!”

Wato snapped and told her off, but Sherlock didn’t seem to pay any attention. Her roommate retrieved her phone from under her coat and responded the call immediately. Her facial expression faded and was replaced by a devil-like grin.

Wato grasped the subtle changes, and instinctively straightened herself. Surely, this was — !

“What? The bride — vanished?”

An incident has happened. Sherlock beamed. A good distraction, much like a predator pleasantly catching prey and flying off with it.

—

Le Mariage Blanc, Tokyo. One of the biggest wedding halls in Tokyo. Not only are the facilities big and complete — but the ‘scale’ in terms of pricing is also big. Wato thought that the interior of the building had an air of luxury, while earnestly keeping up with Sherlock. They hurried through the polished and refined corridor. As they entered the lobby where the ceiling was high, she noticed familiar figures inside. They were Chief Inspector Reimon and Police Sergeant Shibata.

Shibata didn’t wait for Sherlock and Wato to approach them when he started explaining. It was his attitude of doing things before anyone else tell him to.

“The missing bride is a model named Mashima Risa. She disappeared right before the wedding reception.”

“Someone ran away with her? Just like in the movies.”

Wato really got into the idea. A bride who was taken away just before the reception — is it an escape with an ex-lover? A reunion with a true love. Just imagining it made her eyes sparkle.

“Nah, there was no sign of anyone coming to take her away.”

Shibata sternly denied. Wato could hear a small snigger from Sherlock, as she looked down in disappointment.

“Shibata. The photos.”

When prompted by his superior, Shibata showed the pictures saved on his phone to Wato and Sherlock. Look at that, even though he was being frowningly helpful, he was diligently doing his work, it’s very Shibata-like.

The picture was of a man in a tuxedo and a woman in a wedding dress. With the marriage certificate in their hands, both of them looked really happy. Reimon continued to explain to Wato and Sherlock who were looking at the picture.

“The groom is a famous jewelry designer, Saeki Kazuma. He made his name at the international Mazarin Awards. He has clients all over the world.”

Wato’s eyes widened. After Reimon mentioned it, it clicked to her.

“This guy, I’ve seen him on TV. I heard he was very popular with his original designs.”

“Hey. Why are you, the investigation division, handling a missing person’s case?”

Sherlock didn’t seem to be interested in the job of a jewelry designers at all. She asked the question mockingly, as though implying the fact that the two guys were so free at doing cases outside their scope.

“…11 years ago, I married my wife here.” Reimon straightened his back and answered with a straight face.

Sherlock went, “Huh?”

“This place is full of memories for me and my wife. I can’t let a case that occurred here go unsolved.”

Wato looked at Reimon, who was holding up his left hand, a ring gleaning from finger. She looked blankly with her mouth open. No way, you guys have way too much free time, but she closed her mouth and thought that it was such a wonderful thing for him to do. I am one who values such emotions. Unlike the devil sitting next to me.

“Even if Majima Risa remains missing, there’s still a possibility that this case would be taken over by us anyway.”

Shibata continued coolly.

What’s with that, Sherlock had probably thought, she sighed heavily and wearily.

“Well, OK then. Gather every single photo taken at the wedding, not leaving any rocks unturned.

“You don’t have to say it, we’ve already done it.”

Shibata smiled smugly. Sherlock sneered back at him.

“Oh, someone’s learning.”

“Detective consultants can’t handle this type of steady and honest investigation.”

“Well, thank you for your hard work, sir!”

Both strong and sarcastic, it was a dog-fox bickering. Wato was wondering how to stop them both, but Reimon casually raised his hand.

He managed to arbitrate the situation — saying that they would leave the rest up to Sherlock, and without delay, he walked away. Shibata quickly followed him from behind. Which left Wato staring blankly at them. Sherlock remained silent, then started to observe the inside of the hall. Wato as well let her eyes roam around. There was a wedding dress propped at one corner of the room which caught her eye. The design was an open chest with a bareback. The fabric was white as snow, with sparkling details.

“How nice… I’d like to wear a dress like this one day. But—“

There was an unexpected emotion of sorrow and pain wash over her, Wato looked down. It was hopeless — had you noticed the trembling in my voice just now? Wato felt a gaze, but Sherlock did not say anything. Not even the usual cheekiness of something like ‘It’d be difficult for you to face people after a divorce’…

Wato kept quiet. Sherlock only crossed her arms, continuing her observation of the room.

Silence.

After a while, they could hear the sounds of footsteps coming closer. Two employees appeared at the entrance.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting — ah, are you the consulting detectives? I was informed by Inspector Reimon about you. I’m the manager, Tachikawa. She’s the wedding planner, her name is…”

The man had neatly-combed hair, he carefully lowered his head towards Wato and Sherlock. Sherlock responded with a “Hmm” and a frank gaze, while Wato returned his greetings with a brief bow.

Standing next to Tachikawa was a woman in a pants suit. She bowed and continued Tachikawa’s sentence.

“Yokokawa. I accompanied the bride the whole day when the incident happened — ”

---

Notes: Just to reiterate, the Wakasugi Family Curse episode has been omitted in the novel, so there were some parts that happened in Episode 4 that were interwoven with The Missing Bride chapter (in this case, Chapter 4).

It’s a huge chunk of translation, just to make up for the lack of updates. Imma hibernate a bit. 

Sorry if the “keep reading” link doesn’t work (I don’t know how... haha) If it does work, ignore this. LMAO.

Also I’m sorry for grammar inconsistencies as usual. Not really good at it. Will keep revising this til it looks sufficiently ok. 

Ok, enough rambling. Hope it was good.

#miss sherlock #watolock #novelization #novel #english translation #sherlock is a little more sensitive at the last part WOW #second draft

[jiminsasscracck]

Cold Hearted Blood {BTS AU! Part VII}

BTS MAFIA (& STRIPPER) AU

[Masterlist] (Previous chapter) Part 7 (Next chapter)

Genre: Drama/fluff/smut/angst

Words: 3206

Admin: Admin Sky

Summary: It was time for Hell Month, as young women in your city called it. Men from different mafias tries to find the prettiest out of the prettiest, the best out of the best, the perfect woman - to trade to another mafia that doesn’t live near your city.

You knew that going out during Hell Month was risky, but staying inside and not going out during nights drove you crazy. That’s why there is a strip club down the street, where the mafia can’t come in. Kinda.

Taehyung pressed against the pedal, and turned the wheel to the left. Namjoon grabbed a hold of his seat while Jin rolled around in the backseat, screaming at Taehyung for his horrible driving skills. If this would have been any other day Taehyung would just smirk, but now he didn’t show any emotion at all. Only a small bit of fear hidden behind those eyes. 

Taehyung got to the big empty road, and went so fast he got pushed against the seat. Namjoon groaned out something - the alcohol staring to act a bit weird in his stomach. 

Jin was fine, he didn't drink that much - but he still had alcohol in his system. That’s the reason he could not drive. Jungkook was down in the gym and Jimin in the warehouse - the only remaining person who could drive them was Taehyung, who ate cookies in the kitchen. When Namjoon told Taehyung what had happened Taehyung spat his cookie out, and faster than lighting he was off to the distance.

“Okay, Kihyun said down this road and down the waterfall”, Jin yells - making sure that his voice is louder than the loud engine of the van. “I’ll tell you where to turn left, so we can get to the waterfall.” 

Taehyung growled under his breath, hands gripping the wheel tighter. His veins popped up on the sweaty forehead and along the arms. He was panicking - Kihyun and Changkyun had probably left you. If Taehyung didn’t find you EXO will, or the darkness of this horrible world. 

Man, Taehyung missed you so much. He missed having someone to flirt with, to kiss. The two of you were so close to kiss, but it didn’t happen. Just thinking about this made something appear in Taehyung’s stomach. He had something for you, that’s for sure, he just didn’t know what. Whenever he thought about you being alone with EXO he would get angry. He felt like they didn’t deserve you; your body. 

It was pitch dark outside, the clock was around two or three a.m. Tiny raindrops touched the window, and Taehyung knew that in maybe half an hour it would be pouring rain down the sky. Meaning; you would only get colder. 

Taehyung turned to the left, and saw through the darkness how the forest had burnt down. Trees had fallen and they looked really ashy.

“Trees are appearing - slow the fuck down!”  Jin hissed from the backseat.

Taehyung listened, and did like his hyung told him to. Instead of going 140 kilometers by hour he slowed down to 60, finally letting Namjoon’s stomach calm down. Namjoon had at this point almost fainted - his eyes closed and forehead pressed against the window. 

The road now was not as big as the one before. It was definitely smaller, and through the forest. It was big enough for them to fit, but if the van had been any larger it would have been a problem. 

The spot where the fire had begun was clear. Taehyung drove past it, and saw pieces of a car lying on the ground. Kihyun mentioned something about exploding EXO’s car - not knowing you were inside. Monsta X and EXO were not friends, which was nothing new. But the explosion accidentally caused a forest fire. 

“What if EXO’s still lurking around?” Taehyung said, and slowed down a bit more. He did not want to meet EXO - and tell them they are here to bring you back. 

“They’re not...” Namjoon groaned out, holding his poor stomach. “The rest of Monsta X chased them away.” 

“Also, before you start to dash again”, Jin quickly said after Namjoon finished his sentence. “There is an abyss ahead. Stop the car there.” 

Taehyung frowned, and then he gasped. Did you just jump from a fucking abyss? Were you crazy? The water is so strong it could drown a ship - and you fucking jumped from it?! Did you want to die?! 

A few minutes later the van reached the abyss, and Taehyung stopped. He opened his door and faster than lighting he was outside.

The rain was dashing down at this point, and the first thing Taehyung did was to look down the abyss, just to see how far down it was. Far, far, far down he saw water, and also the waterfall. He couldn’t see more than that, it was too dark. But one thing was quite sure - to jump from here would hurt like a bitch. 

“Okay”, Jin said, and tapped Taehyung’s shoulder. “We need to walk down the hill. It’s not safe to drive.” 

Taehyung nodded, raindrops hitting his face. Namjoon had gotten back his consciousness, and the three men ran trough tress to get to the end. They had been here before, of course. The forest was just two kilometers away from EXO’s headquarter, to reach EXO they always took this way. So they were pretty familiar with the forest - even though it had burnt down now. That’s probably the reason why you had to jump, and not just go down the hill they were now going down from. The fire had you trapped. 

It’s weird how BTS were both friends with EXO and Monsta X, since those two hated each other. BTS and EXO’s relationship were more business - while it was more friendship with Monsta X. 

After around ten minutes they reached the bottom of the hill, and they stood beside the active waterfall now. And from here he could actually see a faint shadow of two people beside the water, a third person lying down. ‘That must be (Y/N)!’

“This way”, Jin said, and waved towards his right. They couldn’t jump down from here, they were not stupid. So they quickly went around the water, and ended walked down. 

As soon as Taehyung saw you lying in Changkyun’s arms he sprinted. His legs ran faster than they had ever had, leaving Namjoon and Jin behind him.

Taehyung fell on his knees on the wet ground and pulled you away from Changkyun, surprising the poor 96′ liner. 

You had a jacket on you, probably from the shivering Kihyun who stood in the rain with only a T-Shirt. Taehyung stroked your cold cheek, happy to have you back in his arms. Your eyelids were closed, and you took small breathes. How the fuck are you still alive? Well Taehyung didn’t care how you did it; he cared that you were back in his arms. 

“You stayed!” Namjoon laughed out as he got closer. “I thought you two cold hearted ass people would just leave her here.” 

Kihyun snorted while Changkyun stood up - now that Taehyung didn’t let anyone touch you. 

“Oh we fucking stayed”, Kihyun hissed out. ‘“Jooheon came and gave her some treatment, but she is still stone cold. You took long enough, I thought I was gonna freeze to death. Not to mention I had to swim in the water to get her!” 

Kihyun reached out to touch your small form, but Taehyung hissed and protected you with his arms. Kihyun pulled back surprisingly, while Taehyung just gave him the dead eye. 

“Mine”, Taehyung hissed out, and laid his head on top of yours. “Don’t touch her.” 

Taehyung’s heart was beating hard against him. No man would touch you now that he was here. He kissed you behind your ear, inhaling the scent of your skin. God, he missed you so much.  

Kihyun rose on of his eyebrows and looked at Jin and Namjoon. They just shrugged, not really knowing what to say about that. 

“Well then mister psycho”, Kihyun mumbled out to Taehyung. “I still need my fucking jacket.” 

“Do you even have a ride home?” Namjoon asked. “We can drive you home. Then you can get your jacket.” 

Kihyun clicked his tongue and pulled back his wet hair. “Works for me. I was gonna force someone to come and get us, but since you are being so nice.”

Taehyung slowly stood up, but lifted you up back to his chest quickly. With one arm around your knees and the other around your shoulders the five men started to go back to the van. You shifted a bit in your sleep, but Taehyung softly hushed you while leaving a small kiss on your forehead. 

Kihyun stuck his tongue out to Taehyung playfully, making Taehyung turn his head in question.

“By the way, if she wasn’t unconscious while I was doing CPR I would have totally made out with her. Hot stuff is what she is.” And Kihyun ran up the hill after that - faster than lighting. 

A wet towel lay comfortably on your forehead, while you had something warm hugging your body. 

You wrinkled your nose a bit, and opened one eye. But the white lighting got to your eye and made you quickly shut it again. Damn, your eyes were itching like you had something in them. 

Two gentle fingers laid themselves on your right eye, and slowly held it open. A small object got closer to your eye, but all you saw was the white light. 

Plopp. 

Something landed in your eye, making you go against the fingers and shut your eye. Your eyes watered up as the fingers did the same thing to the other eye. 

Tears spilled from your eyes, as a natural reaction from the human body. But the fingers quickly wiped them away while humming something softly. 

The itching in your eyes disappeared, and you could open them again. The light was for some reason not that bright anymore, so you got the change to actually look around. 

You turned your head to the right, making the towel slip off your forehead and down on the pillow underneath you. 

A soft giggle echoed through the room, and someone removed the towel. You had to blink a bit, to actually see the person, and when you did you gasped. 

“Hi there princess”, Jin laughed out softly. “You made it, with an eye infection and some few injuries. But I thought- HEY.” 

You removed yourself from the bed and threw yourself on Jin, taking him by surprise. The wheelchair was about to fall down on the floor if Jin did not save it with his feet. 

When Jin could progress what was going on he hugged you back, wrapping his arms around you with a laugh. 

You were not quite sure what had happened. You remember water and a fire, but you didn’t need to remember more than that. You were back here, not with EXO, with BTS. You were still alive.

“Easy there, easy”, Jin laughed and patted your head. “You just woke up after 24 hours.”  You just let out a mumble, snuggling up against him. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again.” 

Your voice cracked by itself. Memories of EXO just talking about all the stuff they would do to you as if you were an object ran through your brain - making you crack up. The way they were almost already planning how to kill you when you couldn’t take it anymore. Gosh, it was horrible.

“I was so scared”, you continued. “They talked about me as if I was an object. And how they would kill me when they were done with me and oh gosh, I couldn’t do anything...”

A sob finally left your lips, tears tickling down Jin’s neck. Jin stiffened up a bit, before he quietly shushed you. He stroked your back as you let all the tears and all your thoughts out. 

After some minutes you had calmed down, and removed your head from the crook of his neck. You still sat comfortably on his lap, his arms still wrapped around your waist. 

“Hey, calm down kiddo”, Jin chuckled, and wiped away your tears. “You won’t go anywhere in a while.” 

You cracked him a smile, showing him all of your teeth. Jin answered with a smile himself - and then it turned to a playful wine.

“Aaah okay, off the lap now. I know it is comfortable but the handsome one needs to go and tell Namjoon you woke up.” 

You flicked his forehead before standing up, and he stood up after you. You noticed that you now had some black sweatpants with a white shirt. You blushed - realizing that it was probably Jin who had changed your clothing. But better that than the same clothes you jumped into the water with. 

“Come on, let’s go and say hi to Namjoon”, Jin said. You nodded, and followed Jin. 

You felt a bit weak in your body, but it was no big issue. Your head was a bit light too and your eyes a bit itchy. But what could you do. 

The hallway to Namjoon’s office felt like your home. Everyday you would drink hot chocolate while he drank coffee in his office. You didn’t force anything personal out of him, most of the time you told him embarrassing stories you had from school. And you felt all warm walking down this hallway again.  

 Jin knocked on Namjoon’s office and a faint “Come in” reached your ears. You snickered and opened the door, stepping in first with Jin behind you. 

Namjoon looked down on some paperwork first, before Jin coughed. Namjoon looked up, and when he saw you he choked on his own spit. 

You laughed as Namjoon quickly stood up and hugged you, so hard you heard a bone crack. 

“Man I was so worried about you”, Namjoon said, and ruffled your hair. “Little devil - jumping down from a fucking abyss and falling down a waterfall.” 

You playfully hit his chest, and stepped away from the hug. Jin walked past the two of you and sat himself down on the couch with a big sigh. 

“How are you feeling?” Namjoon asked, and sat behind his desk again. You sat yourself down beside Jin and answered with a smile. 

“Good. A bit lightheaded but alive.” 

“Indeed alive”, Namjoon said with a playful huff. “You jumped from an abyss, fell down a waterfall but still survived?! You are a strong one.” 

You shrugged playfully. What could you say - you were quite strong, weren’t you? ‘But, who found me now again?’

“I don’t remember much, actually...” You slowly let out. “I fell down the waterfall and then...?”

“Mister angry pants - Kihyun, got you. They gave you CPR to make sure you stayed alive until we came”, Namjoon said, flashing a smile that made his eyes small and dimple flashing. 

“We?” you said, and tilted your head. Yoongi? Yoongi - the one you hated the most right now for selling you away like that, went after you? Okay, you knew it wasn’t fully his fault for selling you like that, but instead of explaining to you he just threw you to EXO. No emotion at all. But even so, he went and got you?

“We two featuring Taehyung”, Jin explained. You nodded, but still with a frown. So no Yoongi involved, but Jimin? After the kiss and all that - he did not follow? 

To be honest you were a bit irritated on Jimin too. Jimin literally did a hit and run. He kissed you, made something sparkle between the two of you, and then drugged you. Once again - you were quite sure he didn’t want to, but out of all the ways he could do it, he did it that way. The ways to make you feel special, but then it turns out you are not. The worst way. 

“By the way, is there something going on between you and Taehyung?” Namjoon asked out, snapping you out of your thoughts. “He was, you know, all over you. He didn’t let anyone touch you.” 

Your eyes widened, as you looked at Namjoon in shock. Taehyung? Out of all people? Thinking about it, you flirted around with Taehyung most of the time. You didn’t think it was more than a flirt, but it looks like it was much more behind that. 

You couldn’t stop the blush reaching up on your cheeks as you looked down - making Namjoon playfully whistle.

The phone on his desk cut the playful aura off, as Namjoon leaned forward to see the name flashing against the screen. When he did he let out a sigh, and looked over at you and Jin.

“You maybe want to shower, yeah?” he mumbled out, before he clicked the phone. You frowned, before your hand went up to your head and oh god. It felt like you had been licked by a cow. 

You knew something was up with Namjoon and that phone call, but you decided to ignore it. Namjoon pointed to the bathroom in his office, and you quickly moved there. This hair had been in a fire and nasty ass water - time for a shower.

The bathroom looked really nice, fresh too. You spent no extra time - you locked the door behind you and started to strip of your clothes. 

“I was surprised you asked about a love relation” you heard Jin laugh. You heard Namjoon laugh back. “I know, I surprised myself too.” 

They started to whisper after that, you could not hear a single thing. You sighed through your nose, a bit irritated that you couldn’t hear what they talked about. Not that you think it is something about you or something important, you just wanted to know if it was about that call or not. 

A perfect idea popped up in your brain, and you happily snapped your fingers. You turned on the shower, making it seem like you were in the shower. Then you leaned your ear against the door, and just like expected - they started to speak louder. 

“What? No, no we don’t.” 

 ‘What the fuck did I miss?’ It was Namjoon speaking, but not to Jin. During the few seconds you had turned on the shower Namjoon had called back, since you heard another voice. He probably had on speaker, so Jin could hear too.

“Well she is somewhere, and we need her. Call us when you find her.” 

EXO. Someone from EXO was speaking to Namjoon about you. 

You bet your lip, waiting for Namjoon’s answer. Were they going to give you away again? But Jin promised they wouldn’t. The meanings behind promises are to break them eventually 

“No.”

Did you hear it right? Namjoon answered with a no?! 

“No we won’t. We have done our work, and you have to look for her yourselves. You should have been more careful.” 

With that you heard the sound of the click, meaning Namjoon hang up. Jin started to clap his hands, and he whistled. 

“Wow man, you were good!” Jin sang out. “I thought you would be like ‘Yes boss.’“ 

You cracked your own smile, as you leaned away from the door. Something inside you started to bubble of happiness. They were not gonna send you away again, no more EXO. They wanted to keep you - and that surprised you.

“Sorry baby, not my rules”, Hoseok then added, just as you were going to slam a book in his face for being so cold. “I liked having women around here, they made me laugh. We all loved it, even Namjoon. But one day he just sent them all away….” 

Hoseok told you this once. That Namjoon was the one who disliked the women, for some reason. But he treated you like his sister, and had never come off rude. In the beginning yeah, but now - never. He could be super angry; when he saw you he always smiled. Now that you got to stay you could maybe make your bond stronger.

But... does this mean they will return you to your family? Your brother must be going crazy and your friends too. You had a great life; you had your family and friends. But for some reason they had not crossed your mind since four weeks ago.

You shook you head, and stepped into the shower - still with a smile on your face. These guys were not that much of cold hearted bloods like they seemed to be. 

#cold hearted blood #chb #admin sky #bts #bts mafia #bts scenarios #bts gang au

[bettercallselly-blog]

Hi guys! “There’s no time to change your mind – the time has come – you’ve been left behind”. The final chapter of our beloved The Leftovers has come and I couldn’t be more sad about the end of these three amazing years.

 Let’s start from the end. The ending scene is indeed crucial to understand the rest of the episode. The last dialogue between Kevin and Nora reminded me a lot of Grace’s monologue in front of Kevin Garvey Senior: they’re both older than before – some people is sure that 13 years passed since they last met in the hotel in Melbourne (Season 3 Episode 4) – and they have just found each other again after all that time. Kevin pretends he had only met Nora once, at the Christmas dance (Season 1 Episode 4), and that they never were together, and of course never fallen apart.  He stops pretending after a while, when he realizes that his plan of erasing all the pain they had experienced together wasn’t working at all, and he finally confesses: he had been looking for her for years, he had spent every two weeks holiday in Australia for the last 13 years without never giving up, showing a picture of Nora to every single person he had met. And now that he has finally found her, he’s not willing to give her up again. He apologizes for shouting at her the last time they talked, and for telling her she should be departed with her kids.

And that’s when Nora starts to tell her incredible story of how she travelled to another dimension, where the 98% of the world population departed, a world populated by the 140 million people who had departed from “their dimension”. She tells him she had found herself in the Australia of the other dimension, travelled by boat to New York – because in that world they don’t have enough pilots to make planes fly – and finally found her house in Mapleton. There, she waited for hours outside of her old house, waiting for someone to come outside and then someone did: her husband, with a new girlfriend, and her kids, older than she remembered, and happy. She then decided to go back to her world because in that dimension she was nothing but a ghost, and her children already had each other and didn’t need her anymore, so she looked for the inventor of the device that helped her cross through one dimension to the other and asked him to build another machine, so she could go back to the world where she belonged.

This was absolutely sad and heartbreaking and I felt so sorry for Nora. But I also felt that something didn’t feel right. I thought about it for a while, and then I started seeing everything differently: what if Nora didn’t necessarily tell the truth? At the beginning of the episode she said “I don’t lie”, but in fact she did.

I don’t think that Nora actually went through the machine. Let’s think about it for a moment… What happened when they invented the machine “in their dimension”? A LOT of people went through, 190 people used the device to be with their departed family members. So, if what she says were real, all the people of “our world” that went through the machine would now be in that other dimension, happily reunited with their family, and they would have started talking about this miraculous machine that can send you wherever your family went on October 14th. In a world where as much as the 98% of the world population is gone, people would have gone CRAZY. We saw what happened in the real world – where “only” the 2% of the world population had departed: people started to lose their minds, they started to join cults, to stone people to death, to worship a magic chicken, to bomb an island on the south pacific to kill a seven headed monster capable of ending the world, they bought mannequins looking like their departed loved ones, they put cities on fire, they started shooting dogs and worshipping a lion in a cage.

And there are more reasons why I think Nora didn’t go through the device:

1 – If another dimension populated by just 14 millions of people really existed, I’m pretty sure people would have reacted just like they did in the real world, or worst. And if there really was a chance to travel to the other world and join the other 98%, so many of them would have done it right away.

2 – Unlike Nora, people on the other dimension would have been sure that the machine really worked – because 190 people had already used it to reach them – and of course they would have come back en masse to their former world . But no. Nobody of the departed ever came back, not a single person. We would have known it if they did.  If that had really happened, the news would spread fast. But there’s no record of a departed coming back from the other side. Nora is the only person alive claiming she visited this parallel world, but there is absolutely no proof that it actually exists.

3 – It’s highly unlikely that Doctor Van Eeghen built such a device in a world where they weren’t even able to make planes fly. And he would have built another device just for Nora, with nobody else willing to use it…  And given that what she’s saying is true, how did she find Doctor Van Eeghen?

4 – Also, she was clearly yelling “STOP!” at the beginning of the episode, before the liquid inside could reach her face…

She didn’t go through. She just ran away, just like she was going to do the first time, right before finding Lily… I think she never believed that the device would have worked. When she decided to go through it, she just wanted to die, having a 1% chance of reuniting with her kids. But then she got scared and decided to stop. What she told is just the story she wants to believe in: the story of two kids who lost their mom but still have their dad and a happy life. She wants to believe in a world that is struggling to go on, but makes it anyway. She wants to believe that her children are alive and happy, and that they were able to start their life over, and succeed where she failed.

These are some other things that strengthen my conviction that Nora is lying:

1 – This interview to Damon Lindelof on the official website:

HBO: Why did you have her explain — rather than show — her journey to the other side?

Damon Lindelof: Because the show has always been about the stories we tell to make ourselves feel better.

2 – Nora being called a liar by Doctor Becker and Doctor Eden at the beginning of the episode

3 – Nora being called a liar again by the nun

4 – The nun saying “It’s just a nicer story” might also be a reference to Nora’s journey in the world of the departed.

After changing her mind and refusing to go through the machine, Nora gave up on life, changed her name and ran away. It almost feels like there was still a little sparkle of hope inside of her: she stayed in Australia, right where she had last seen Kevin, a very big country indeed, and full of people, where it’s really difficult to find someone but still not impossibile.

I think this is it, Kevin and Nora have found each other again and this time they’re not gonna let their relationship fail. Kevin proved to love her in every possibile way, and now she knows she has something to live for.

Honestly, seeing them together now that they’re old is a little unsettling. I wasn’t sure whether I was enjoying this final episode or not in the beginning. This wasn’t what I was expecting to see, I was hoping to see Jill and Tom again and I thought Laurie was dead, so this episode all focused on Nora and Kevin has really caught me by surprise. But it’s fine. I’m happy about them being together and I’m happy about how things turned out. Kevin and Nora deserve to be happy and together. It took them a long time to realize how important they were to each other, but this show taught us that it’s never too late to start loving again, to start feeling again and to move on. These amazing characters have lived in a world with no certainties,  a world that let everybody down in the most terrible way – by making loved people disappear, by making love a dangerous path to take, by making the creation of a new family an hazard – and now they’ve made it through and they’re all ready to move on. Some of them already did, others are just starting to put their lives together for the first time after ages. The real apocalypse was inside this people hearts, and – just like the world didn’t end – their lives didn’t either.

It breaks my heart to say goodbye to this show. It’s been a wonderful  three years journey, and I wish it would have lasted forever. Just like the characters of The Leftovers we’re now ready to face our lives after this little big Departure. But let’s pretend there is no end.

Same time next week?

  INTERESTING FACTS:

– The opening scene with Nora and Matt is one of the saddest and sweetest moments of the show: Matt is broken, he has lost his faith and he’s scared of dying. He’s ready to come back to Mary and Noah but he doesn’t know how to face his illness and how to guide people through this difficult times because he feels like he has no answers anymore. In this scene he’s trying to make Nora’s last moments funny, like he did when they were little. He’s not trying to stop her anymore, he just wants her to get what she wants. Matt’s story breaks my heart, because it really looks like everything he always believed him brought him to be alone, to lose his wife, his son, his sister and eventually his faith. He has nothing to live for anymore and he’s sick. At the end of the episode we will find out that Matt is dead and that he had a beautiful funeral, with over 400 people attending. It also looks like he got back together with Mary.

– Why are Doctor Bekker and Doctor Eden promoting their device? Maybe they are genuinely  convinced that it works. Or maybe they’re not sure, and they only allow people who has no more reason to live.

– Nora is wearing white right before entering the event chamber.

– AAAnd for the last time, we hear about Cairo.

– Nora into the event chamber looks exactly like the French naked man on the submarine (Season 3 Episode 5)

– Nora put hers money in a jar, just like K.G. Senior did when he left 20.000 dollars for Matt.

– Laurie and Nora on the phone look like two teenage friends, gossiping about a boy. ❤

– In this episode Nora and Kevin are dancing to a Otis Redding song. In Season 1 Episode 4, they met at the Christmas Ball, with another Otis Redding song in the background.

– Kevin tells Nora he has a heart condition and that he has a scar right under his heart due to the insertion of a pace-maker – just like Kevin Harvey had a scar in the same spot, due to the removal of the “key” that allowed to destroy the world on the other side.

– Nora frees the goat from the bead necklaces which represent all the sins in the world, she puts them around her own neck, taking her place. This scene reminded me of Season 2 Episode 5, when Matt frees the man in the stocks and takes his place, claiming it was his turn.

– Nora changes the paper towel roll, just like she did right after Wayne hugged her pain away. Changing the paper towel roll was the last thing she did before her kids disappeared, and she left it there for three years after the Departure. This time, she puts the pearls on it. This might be a metaphor: Nora is finally accepting all her sins and she’s ready to move on.

– Nora’s house in Australia looks exactly like the houses of Season 3 opening scene, with the Millerite woman.

  – Laurie is still alive and she’s holding Jill’s daughter in her arms. ❤ This is a big surprise, we were all so sure that she committed suicide in Certified and no one was expecting to see her again. We also found out that she’s still living with John and that Michael is running the church. Maybe Jill and Tom’s phone call really changed her mind and save her. She was also able to keep her promise to Nora – same time, next week –

– In the very last scene of the show Nora’s birds come back with the love messages. She says they are trained to come back home – so is Kevin?

  The Leftovers – REVIEW 03×08 “The Book of Nora” Hi guys! "There's no time to change your mind - the time has come - you've been left behind"

#HBO #review #s03e08 #season 3 #season finale #the book of nora #the leftovers

[thechiefreport]

40 Movies (so far) in 2017

I seem to have watched a lot of movies so far this year, most of them for the first time.  Thought I'd do a quick rundown of all of them with additional thoughts that I couldn't fit into 140 characters.

The year started off with The 33, the movie about Chilean miners trapped underground. Surprised this didn't get more traction at the box office because it was quite good, though a bit long.  The Magnificent Seven was next (the one with Denzel and Chris Pratt) which had all the markings of a fun movie, but even now I couldn't tell you a single thing about any of the characters beyond the single defining characteristic they were given.  I went to Interstellar next because every so often I feel this need to watch a movie about space.  I have this crazy fascination with outer space so movies that take place there will always get a nod from me.

Ride Along 2 was next.  Kevin Hart is one of those guys that either you find funny or he annoys the daylights out of you.  The movie was fine but it wasn't as good as some of his others.  Hidden Figures I saw because it was MLK weekend and it was an important film.  Unfortunately when you buy reserved seating tickets at the last second, you sit in the front row which was not fun.  I'll need to watch this movie again from my couch to appreciate it more.

Split and xXx: Return of Xander Cage were next in theaters.  Split was another slow burn from M. Night Shyamalan with an out-of-left-field reveal at the end that was cool but didn't add anything to the actual film.  It does make for an interesting sequel though.  And xXx was what you'd expect it to be.  Nina Dobrev is on my list of top 5 celebrities I want to meet (#1 on that list will be coming up in a few paragraphs) so if she's in a movie, I'll go see it.

Not 100% sure why I decided to watch The Usual Suspects next.  Probably because it was on HBO or Showtime and I recorded it just to have.  Not as good as the first time (what is I suppose) but still holds up pretty well.  Then I decided to watch Transcendence because apparently I like to torture myself.  You'd think by now Johnny Depp wouldn't need to do movies for the money but this was nearly unwatchable.  Followed that up with Unbreakable because of the ending of Split.  I think I enjoyed it more than I did in its initial release.

Movies 11-22 were all movies I saw for the first time in 2017.  Eye in the Sky was one of those edge-of-your-seat thrillers that you shouldn't overlook when picking a movie for movie night.  Me Before You was the type of romantic dramedy that I enjoy, especially when you have someone as ridiculously adorable as Emilia Clarke in it.  Pete's Dragon was decent if uninspiring.  Never saw the original movie so I don't know if it's exactly the same.  

Back in high school friends and I made a horror-comedy as a senior project and one of the movies we referenced (by name, not anything else) was Killer Klowns from Outer Space.  Found a free version on some random site through my Roku device and soldiered through it.  Not great but you know what, it wasn't all that bad either?  Especially compared to Sharknado 4.  I get that the Sharknado films are the height of cheese but they really stopped caring.  In between that I saw a movie called The Voices with Ryan Reynolds, Anna Kendrick and Gemma Arterton.  Great cast, bizarre serial killer movie.  Hard to say who I'd recommend it to.

Sing Street was a movie that got a few award nominations but somehow flew under the radar.  Great movie if you like music in your films.  Sisters has the ultimate girl pairing of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler and was better than the previews might lead you to believe, but it wasn't their best work.  The Lego Batman Movie was the next theatrical and I fell asleep for about 10 minutes.  Batman as a supporting character in a Lego movie is great, but as a lead it was too much.  Went back to a girl comedy for Bad Moms and thought it was a lot of fun.  Can't wait for the sequel.

I thought John Wick: Chapter 2 was pretty dumb and nonsensical.  Unfortunately I watched it with an SVP from Lionsgate at a screening where they asked for our opinions at the end and I couldn't very well say it in front of him, could I?  It was extremely violent so I suppose if that's your thing.  Moonlight was next in time for the Oscars.  Yes it was a great movie but I will always believe La La Land deserved the Best Picture award it had for 2 minutes.

I got trapped at my parents house during one of the snow storms of the season so I watched Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix because I had it saved on their DVR.  Two more theatricals came next - The Great Wall and Logan.  The Great Wall was good for the action sequences but bad for almost everything else.  Logan on the other hand is one of the best comic book movies I've ever seen.  Dark and violent with an unhappy ending that felt right.

I was (and still am) a huge fan of The Office (both US and UK) so I was looking forward to David Brent: Life on the Road but without the supporting cast I grew to love, it wasn't the same.  Another disappointing movie was The Angry Birds Movie.  Previews looked great but man the movie was dull.  Went straight into another animated film, Beauty and the Beast, which is the movie I've watched close to 100 times in my life, and that is not an over-exaggeration.  25+ years later and I am still mesmerized by it.

Another Disney film was next with The Jungle Book.  Don't understand how it made so much money.  I thought the CGI was really badly done and the story was uninteresting.  The animated movie is far superior.  As a change of pace I went with The Purge: Election Year since it feels more and more like that's where this country is headed.  These movies aren't deep but they are well made.

Passengers was another one of those space movies I enjoy, this time with more romance.  The story wasn't great and it lacked a lot but I love Jennifer Lawrence and Chris Pratt so I'd definitely watch this one again.  Back to the theater for Kong: Skull Island which had a dumb story but tremendous special effects.  If The Jungle Book can win an Oscar for visual effects (over Rogue One??) then Kong should sweep the awards next year.  The Red Turtle was next which was the one film I actually had in-depth conversations about with a couple of friends trying to figure out what actually happened.  It doesn't feel like a kids film, even though it has some great animation.

The Legend of Tarzan was directed by the guy who did the last four Harry Potter movies so I thought I'd give it a chance but as much as I tried to like it, the story was dull and the special effects were weak.  Then I had to go to jury duty and as we sat there waiting for a case to be called (which never happened) I watched Guardians of the Galaxy since I had it on my tablet.  Still a fun flick.

American Ultra was next since I like Kristen Stewart and sometimes like Jesse Eisenberg.  But this was a bad mistake since the movie was just weird.  Usually I don't see movies in theaters one we get past opening weekend but the buzz for Get Out was so loud I figured I should make the trip.  I think it was over-hyped by the time I saw it, but it was pretty good.  Not scary per se, but creepy and uncomfortable.

Then I saw my most anticipated movie in years, Beauty and the Beast with the person #1 on my list of celebrities I want to meet, Emma Watson.  I loved every single second of it.  I was afraid I wouldn't enjoy it because of how much I loved the animated film, but I thought the story was better because they added pieces of background information we never had and it cleared up some missing pieces from the original.  The character CGI took some getting used to but I stopped noticing after a while.  When I first saw Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone I was in awe because here was something I loved as a book, coming to life on the big screen.  Beauty and the Beast felt the same way, except it was an animated movie coming to life with Emma Watson.  I will 100% be seeing this at least once more in theaters, if not more.

On a Disney high I watched Zootopia again, as it was my second favorite film of 2016, and I still liked it as much as I did when I first saw it.  It was one of those movies where I wished I could go visit some day.  And movie number 40 so far this year (after only 77 days!) was The Edge of Seventeen, a showcase for Hailee Steinfeld who is, I think, the most talented actor of her generation.  She'll be making box office smashes and winning Oscars soon enough, even though this movie didn't quite hit with audiences.

So there you have it, a somewhat quick rundown of the first 40 films of 2017.  I'm sure I'll be back with more in a couple of months.

#The Chief Report #Movie Reviews #2017