Cry Me A River | The Watchers

💜💜💜

cry me a river | the watchers

— summary: sometimes to not protect is the best form of protection

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.0k

— warnings: torture, arson

— PART 20 / previous post / masterpost

No one is coming to save you. Get up.

A splash of cold water and you’re awake once again. Back to reality. Back to being conscious. Reliving a loop that repeats and repeats until Nari is done having her fun and decides to finally end your life.

Your head is a mess, foggy with a pounding ache that refuses to leave. Beside you stands a man with chains holding his wrists together, sitting on a metal chair, his eyes alive and well, not a scratch on his face while he holds a glare watching you in the state you’re in.

Yoongi never did like watching people getting tortured whether they were his enemies or not.

He’s safe though, unlike you, because the Mins have been smart enough not to lay a finger on his hair, knowing if they were to return Yoongi in a state like you, Bangtan would have his head. 

You admit your exes are quite scary when they’re upset, and anyone that touches any one of them would feel their wrath. You’ve witnessed it before, seen it during times when enemies would feel arrogant enough to put a hand on you. Although Namjoon is known as a calm and collected man who keeps his composure, he’s also quite possessive and overprotective. Anyone who tics him off would rather wish they went through hell and back instead.

So Junmyeon is smart in knowing not to touch Yoongi despite his initial offering in trying to please his daughter.

In the end, you’re the only one dying and getting tortured.

“Ah, I’m bored. Won’t you just kill me already?” You spit out a lump of blood from your mouth, licking at your teeth upon the dirty metal taste, and it only aggravates Nari.

You understand her.

She won’t kill you unless she’s had the pleasure of seeing you in pain and begging her for mercy, but you know better than anyone to go on your knees and beg to a wall. It’ll do you more harm than good.

“Why, why, why?!” Nari complains, her feet stomping as she clenches her hands into fists, throwing another annoying tantrum. “Why won’t you just cry?! Do you enjoy getting tortured so much?!”

“Yeah.” You chuckle in her face. “Who would have thought I was such a masochist? You should keep going, little celery.”

“Stop!!” She covers both her ears with her hands, trembling with anger, before deciding to turn to Sunoo who’s been in the room this entire time, doing the task that you’ve given him well, and pushes him forward. 

He stumbles on his feet, knees hitting the floor, and for a moment Nari flinches before she puts on her brave act once again. “Hey kid, don’t you hate to see your little lady getting hurt?”

She’s switching her play once again, trying to aggravate Sunoo despite the other times she’s failed. What a smart kid, learning to read her and understanding that if he were to give her any reaction, she’d only continue hurting you even more.

“You really don’t care one bit about her?” She grabs him by the collar, dragging him on the floor to throw him right before you, forcing him up on his feet.

Sunoo meets your eyes where you stand, chains still holding you up without allowing your legs to rest one bit, and you see the way they falter for a split moment.

He wants to help, to do anything to ease the pain and have this whole thing shut down but he knows that the only way he can help is to not do anything. So Sunoo stays still even as Nari approaches you from behind, a dagger dragging up your neck and towards your face. More blood pools yet Sunoo doesn’t flinch.

Good boy.

She turns the blade to your nape, painting a scene down to your back which has the chains on you chattering loudly upon your trembling state. Your teeth clench tight, jaw ready to break as your pupils dilate, a breath wheezing out of you as Sunoo is forced to watch, his own eyes wanting to betray his facade.

You see the way his arms shake unsteadily from his side and warn him with your eyes to continue playing the act.

This is a play. You have to act the part or it’ll end.

He bites his inner cheek, hands balled into fists, but in the three seconds he takes to calm himself down, they release and the tension on his shoulders follows along. Sunoo looks away, rolling his eyes.

And Nari takes the blade from your skin.

“Why won’t any of you entertain me?!” She stomps around you, pushing Sunoo away, her eyes a murderous gaze as her grip on the hilt of the dagger clenched so tight to see veins popping. “You want to die so badly? I’ll gladly fulfill your wish, buttercup.”

The blade hovers in the air, Sunoo’s eyes widening, the light reflecting off the silver weapon, and when it comes right down before you, someone pushes her out of the way. Hard. And yet he wasn’t fast enough to push her out in time because Yoongi faces the consequence when he clutches onto his eye, blood dripping from his hand.

You stand there, frozen, as Nari screeches once again for things not going her way, and when her men make a move and Junmyeon walks in hearing her scream, your savior extends his free arm out to the side, displaying a phone with a certain number written in white.

His thumb hovers over the green call button, glaring up at them with a threat, and your brows furrow at how this came to be.

He was just chained up a few moments ago and how did he get his hand on a phone? Is that his or…

You take a look to the left just as Junmyeon follows along to find a dead man on the floor.

No way.

Yoongi’s always been a quiet man but you never expected he was this deadly. He broke out of the chains himself as well, and with both you and Sunoo on his side and the enemies on the other, perhaps he had been waiting for just the right moment to strike all along.

What a man.

You see his head tilted slightly your way and you catch the signal.

Min Yoongi, former heir to the Viper throne, doesn’t need your brain to figure out an escape route. He knows the escape route.

You give him a single nod and he clicks his thumb onto the call button, the phone immediately going into call mode, ringing up who you assume to be Namjoon. He flings it off to the side once it’s no longer useful, believing in the fact that your ex-husband will know what to do, just as the snakes come at him in full force, knowing if he’s getting Namjoon involved now, they’ll have no way out if they don’t kill him now.

While Yoongi busies himself with the enemies, Sunoo is quick to run to your side, his eyes panicking all over.

“Hey kid, think you can grab an axe and break these chains out for me?”

When one of the enemies falls to the floor with his axe sliding right before Sunoo’s feet, you give him a grin.

What great timing. It’s as if Yoongi heard you amidst the chaos he’s gotten himself into.

Little Sunoo picks the axe up with both his hands, and although it’s a bit heavy for him, you trust in him when he swings the blade right onto the pole that’s keeping you hanging. A few hits against them and the chains and you’re immediately folding onto your knees now that you’re no longer forced to stand.

Sunoo’s quick to catch you and help you with the fall when you go down.

“We have to go.” Yoongi returns to your side seconds later.

You look around the room, fascinated at the sight. Yoongi doesn’t like killing as much as the others do and yet he’s filled a whole room with bodies. His father is dead, his sister crouches in a corner, trembling uncontrollably, and you hear a hoard of footsteps and shouts closing in.

You take one look at Yoongi and immediately start fuming.

“Why the hell would you let yourself get hurt in my stead? You do realize that we’re back to being enemies now that Namjoon knows I killed his brother, right?” You punch his chest. “Are you mad?”

He observes you with confusion when you go to tear off a part of his shirt. “...You’re upset.”

“Of course I am. I hate owing anyone favors,” you say when you reach up to wrap the cloth over his bloody eye, tying it tightly behind him.

“You don’t have to owe me anything,” his voice is quiet. “This was…my apology.”

You stare at him as if he has two heads. “What? For what?”

“...You were right. We were still in love with you.” In love. Eleven years ago. When you walked out of their lives. “But we did nothing,” he continues. “We chose Namjoon and…as a result, you were left in a hard place. And I feel like, in some ways, whatever you’ve gone through in all the years after the divorce, perhaps a part of that was our fault.” He pauses. “For letting you leave.”

He has no idea.

But why is he bringing this up? Now? When your lives are about to die if he doesn’t make a move? Still, you say; “You don’t know anything.”

He nods. “I know but—”

“We’ll talk later.” You force the conversation to an end, grabbing the confused and awkward Sunoo so you can pull him into your arms. “For now, carry us,” you command and he blinks, unsure of what you’re trying to get at. “I’ve been tortured for who knows how long, I’m too weak to run. But you,” you beckon your head over at the broken chains, “you’re still strong.”

“My lady, I can run on my—”

“No, you can’t,” you immediately shut Sunoo’s suggestion down, “you’ll slow both of us down.” It’s cold but it’s the truth, and it’s the only way to get him to back off. Once you’ve dealt with him, you turn back to Yoongi, raising a brow his way, so he gets on his feet again but not before grabbing a gun from one of the dead enemies and handing it to you.

After that, Yoongi takes you in his arms where you’re holding Sunoo in yours, and he runs out of the room.

You give Nari a little scare by purposely missing when you shoot a bullet at her feet, smirking at her flinching, and once Yoongi’s out of the room and begins heading down a line of hallways you’ve never seen before, you prepare yourself by putting one arm around his neck, eyes pointed and alerted to guard his back.

Sunoo sits still in his place, not moving an inch, and when you hear footsteps approaching, you ready yourself.

Their bullets come flying past but never hit their targets. It only grazes the skin of both you and Yoongi though that doesn’t stop the two of you from doing your job.

You hold your strength, eyes blinking tightly one moment to keep your eyes from blurring up, and shooting down your enemies the next.

A headshot.

Two.

Three.

Someone stumbles and slows the crowd down on this narrow path.

“Hit that button up ahead, will you?” At Yoongi’s command, you use the long chain still wrapped around your wrist to swing it forward, hitting the red button to open up a door leading down three pathways.

Yoongi takes his pick and you keep your eyes on his back, taking down whoever is within your line of sight.

After a few more loops and turns, you come into a kitchen from a secret door, and once you’ve taken down the servants there with three bullets to each of their heads, Yoongi puts you down on a counter.

“What are you doing?” You ask when he runs to a lower cabinet, looking for something.

“Burning this place down,” he says when he picks up a red gas can and begins to pour the liquid all over the floor and toward the entrance of the secret passageway where the three of you came from.

“I never knew you were one to seek out revenge.” Whatever happened between the Vipers and him you sure weren’t good.

Nothing good comes out of being a child of a mafia leader.

“I’m not, it’s for you.”

“Me?” Your ears pick up more noise. “You’re wrong, the Vipers were never on my list.”

“Maybe not, but they did want you dead just a few minutes ago, didn’t they?”

“Well.”

No use arguing with that.

Once he’s done decorating the place with gasoline and adding a few metal cans into the microwave (deadly arsenic things, you’re sure), and has timed it for two minutes, Yoongi places a gas can in Sunoo’s lap before taking you from the counter, on the run once again.

You hear the microwave starting as you signal to Sunoo to pour the content of the gas can on the trail of Yoongi. He does so without hesitation, careful to not pour too much in one setting, all the while Yoongi leads with his run and you watch the back.

Once the can empties out, he throws it off to the side and you see your exit.

There’s a loud boom to indicate the microwave has gone off and just seconds later, the explosion and fire follow.

Yoongi bounces off on his feet, hurling the three of you onto the ground upon the impact of the fire, and you hear a loud screech ringing in your ears.

“Y/N?”

The two boys scramble to you after the initial shock, eyes staring with concern.

“I…” You hit your ear a few times, scrunching your face up. “I’m alright,” you say after a few seconds. “We have to hide though.”

So Yoongi picks you up once again, this time without Sunoo, and the little one follows closely behind when the man runs off. 

You aren’t sure how long it takes them to find a good alleyway where Yoongi’s sure is safe, but you don’t have the energy to think when he places you down against the dirty ground. You lean against the wall from behind, breathing quickening when you finally have the chance to catch up to the torture your body had to endure.

“Just how long will Namjoon take?” You ask through clenched teeth.

“The manor’s an hour away.”

You let out a curse and Yoongi hurries to rip a piece of cloth off his shirt and wrap it over your torso in the same way you had done for his eye. He ties it more tightly, applying great pressure while you’re bleeding out, right before he wipes his hands of blood on his pants to take out a few greens.

“Run to the nearest drugstore. Find anything useful,” he tells Sunoo with a small wipe over the boy’s cheek, ridding off the blood there.

Sunoo doesn’t hesitate to obey.

“You’ve got a good soldier there.” Once he’s gone, Yoongi turns back to you to pay attention to your needs. “Have you been training the kids? I thought you didn’t want them involved.” He grabs ahold of a hand, inserting a thin piece of needling into the lock of the chain still wrapped around your wrist.

“I don’t,” you reconfirm his thoughts, “though I admit the kid did great not giving into Nari’s ploy despite it tearing him apart.” You take your time breathing in and out before speaking again. “Why have you kept all of it a secret?”

“My involvement with those snakes?” You don’t have to answer him for him to understand just what you mean. “I didn’t lie entirely about my past.”

“No. You’re not one to lie.” The chain releases from one hand and you breathe in a harsh breath of air upon the stinging sensation of your wrist. Yoongi moves onto the other one. “You were indeed someone who ran away, but who would have thought it was the Vipers you ran away from. Who would have thought you were a secret heir.”

He keeps silent for a moment. “You saw it yourself,” he says, “Nari’s adored by Junmyeon.” He doesn’t call him by father, you notice. “Ever since she was born, he spoiled her to no end, all the while his first son was neglected and left to waste.” Your father would have killed to have his firstborn a son. “I did all that I could to get his attention but in the end, it was futile.”

“So you ran away?”

He chuckles at that but shakes his head. “I simply gave up and blended into the shadows like how he wanted me to. Nobody acknowledged my presence and that’s when I left. They never cared to search for me. All their attention was on Nari.”

“Did you resent her?” You ask and he shakes his head once again.

It makes sense. Yoongi isn’t one to hate anyone.

“I played my role as the older brother, I protected her from harm and got her the things she wanted. The scar on my back was from me protecting her on the night the two of us were kidnapped by an enemy.”

“You sure love to jump in front of a blade, don’t you?”

He ignores your comment. “Nari was always greedy for more. She wanted the world.”

“Of course she did, that’s just who she is.” You adjust yourself on the wall, trying your best to not let it touch the blade trails from Nari. Everything hurts and stings and aches. “So why didn’t you tell them?” You ask, looking up at him. “They wouldn’t have cared.”

Every one of the boys went through something after all, so why did Yoongi feel the need to keep his connection to the Vipers a secret?

“Bangtan were enemies with Vipers back then,” he explains, a bitter smile resting on his face. “Namjoon saved me, as I told you. He picked up a discarded trash and raised it. If I had told him then that I was the son of his enemy, you think he would have allowed me to stay? Much less save me?”

“You think he would care now?” 

It’s a question he knows the answer to, and yet something has still stopped him from giving his truth to them. Perhaps it’s his fear of the uncertain, because despite how much he knows the boys care for him, perhaps Namjoon would see it as a betrayal.

Yet he’s given his life unto him, even chose him when he had to choose between him and you.

Namjoon wouldn’t care now. No, he wouldn’t. And yet telling the truth has never been easy.

“What about you?” He turns the questions to you. “What’s your relationship with the Vipers?”

You chuckle at the changing of the subject but let it be for now. It’s not as if he owes you any answer. “Nari hated my pretty face,” you say simply. “Why do you think I’ve been beaten up so bad my face is a mess?”

“You’re still..-” Yoongi stops himself from finishing the sentence and you raise a brow, thinking you know just what he was automatically trying to say, but Sunoo returns just in time.

“I’d say between the time I called and our escape to here, it should be around half an hour or so.” He takes the plastic bag from Sunoo who takes a seat beside you, concern written all over his tiny face so you place a hand on his head, reassuring him. “Knowing them, they’re probably speeding down as we speak so they should be here soon but for now, keep conscious. Kid, talk to her so she won’t pass out.”

He takes something out.

Medicine, supplies, bandages.

“You’ll be alright, my lady.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that you know help will arrive soon so your body is catching up to the long-needed rest that’s coming. You feel each blink you take slowing down even as the treatment Yoongi is beginning on you should sting.

“Keep conscious, Y/N,” he warns with furrowed brows, and you watch the way he rips your sleeves to tend to the knife cuts there. Your heart rate picks up and you’re immediately alerted as you suddenly move to grab ahold of his hand, stopping him from doing anything more. Yoongi persists. “You need to—”

“Don’t let them touch me,” you say quickly. Quietly. “I don’t trust anyone, Yoongi, I’m only letting you do this because I know you’d rather have someone else kill a body than do it yourself, and in those three years I knew you, you’re not the type to caress another so easily, but don’t let anyone touch me. Don’t.”

When you look him dead in the eyes while using the last of your strength to grip his hand so tight it hurts you, Yoongi knows not to take your request lightly.

“O..okay.”

Only after you hear the promise leaving his mouth do you finally let your consciousness slip away.

It’s funny how you still hold onto his words.

.

.

.

Every once in a while, Yoongi will glance at where you’re lying against the wall with Sunoo by your side, while he keeps his eyes steady on the street, keeping an eye out for any familiar vehicles.

His feet jumps up and down consistently, feeling anxious as every second pass by. The longer this takes, the harder it will be on you, and even he himself can feel the fatigue trying to catch up on him.

The good eye he has left shakes, trying to keep clear, despite the ever so often images of flashes of blur, his legs threatening to give in.

Only when he finds a black van that rushes down the street to where the old mansion of the Viper lies, burning still, does he finally feel some sense of relief.

“Sunoo.” He turns to the kid, quick, and when Sunoo runs to his side, Yoongi points at where Namjoon walks out of a vehicle, standing a few yards away from the fire, observing with pointed eyes so as to not draw attention to the crowd that had gathered around.

There are sirens all around and Sunoo will have to run a good amount but someone has to stay with you and he can’t, not with his injured eye. Someone will catch sight of him and he can’t get in trouble with the law enforcement.

“Run to that man. Tell him you know where Yoongi is.” He makes sure the kid looks presentable, fixing his ruffled hair, wiping the dirt from his cheek, and cleaning down his clothes with his hands. There’s some blood on his clothes from where he was held by you but there’s not much he can do about that. “Be careful. Be discreet, don’t let the police see you. If they do, they’re going to question you and we don’t want that. You want your lady to get out of here safe and sound, don’t you?”

Sunoo nods and runs off and Yoongi takes a moment to look back at where you sit, just to make sure you’re still there, before watching the kid run over to where the fire is, now dying down. The Vipers aren’t completely destroyed, but with the death of their leader and heir now dead, nothing can be done to have them raise up to power again.

Not unless the living subordinates turn to him.

But he scoffs at the idea, knowing he’d never put himself in a position where he’ll rule a gang, much less his father’s mafia. They’ve abandoned him so why should he feel responsible to pick them up when they’re down?

He’s no longer associated with them, not since the moment he decided to run away.

All is dead and gone, and he knows you’ll make sure the members who’re still alive won’t continue that way once you’re awake.

They did kidnap you after all, and who can ever forgive that?

“Yoongi!”

His head perks up at the call and before he can register it, Namjoon’s body is slamming against him in a tight hold as if all those moments he’s been away from them have been the most horrifying thing he’s ever gone through.

They’ve never been good at dealing with one of them out of their sight after all, not that Yoongi can blame them. He’s just the same. So he welcomes the hold, feeling more arms coming around his other sides, and when the leader presses his hands onto his face, his eyes are quick to turn from that worried stare to a deadly glint.

“I’ll kill him,” his voice lowers.

“It’s alright, I’ve already done it.”

“What happened to you? How-”

“Before that,” he cuts Jungkook off to turn to the dark alleyway where you still lie, and rush over to your side without concern for his eye. “We have to get Y/N help. Now.”

The first reaction was initial confusion, before their brows furrow in recognition of the face of the woman they once loved years ago, lying against a wall all battered up and beaten, still holding onto life.

Barely.

Yoongi takes you in his arms, careful to not hurt you too much, and Taehyung tries to stop him. “What’re you doing? You’re still hurt, let someone else—”

“No,” he says, voice so formidable that declaration alone is something he isn’t willing to back down for anyone. The six of them stare at him with confusion, shocked at this quiet man who doesn’t usually talk back. And when Yoongi adjusts you even closer to him with such a careful approach, it takes them back even more. “Don’t you remember back in London? When she broke down mad the last time we saw her? She’s afraid of strangers touching her. Men.”

Yoongi’s right.

They’ve seen it with their own eyes how much a touch can affect you, trigger you, but it doesn’t clear them of suspicion on why you’re in this mess in the first place and why Yoongi is the one taking care of you.

“What about you?” Jimin asks. “She ran away from us too.”

“We were kidnapped together and even though she’s still frightened, she’s given me a bit of trust and it’s my job to make sure I can fulfill that trust.” He picks you up and walks over to the vehicle that finally slid up. “I owe her that much, don’t I?”

No one can refute that and so they let him go, before silently following along.

Sunoo who had stood aside, silent as he watched over everything, hesitates when they all climb in behind Yoongi, his eyes shaking, hands trembling by his side, unsure of what to do until Hoseok, who was the last in line, crouches down in front of him.

“What’re you doing, kid? We can’t leave you alone here now can we?” He says, a hand coming over to ruffle his hair. He recognizes the little boy who had been amongst the crowd of kids you saved the night you went after Jummy and Ying. “Frightened, were you? It’s alright now, we’ll get your dear lady to safety.”

“Will she be alright?” His voice breaks a little, knowing now that it’s alright to let a bit of that brave face off his facade. “I…I watched her…and…and I couldn’t do anything.”

What a ruthless world for a child to grow up in.

He was forced to watch the very person who saved him getting hurt and beaten, and catching a brief moment of what you looked like in Yoongi’s arms, Hoseok knows that must not have been easy to watch. Not for a child. Not for him.

He doesn’t know what to say so he takes the kid’s hand and they climb into the van together.

The whole ride, after Namjoon phones Mingyu to let him know you were with them, is silent to the max. There are a lot of questions Yoongi knows they wish to ask. For example, why was he kidnapped? Why was it the Vipers? What sort of relationship did he have with them and why hadn’t they know anything? There were always chances of someone in the group getting harmed by previous abusers but they’ve all been dealt with, Namjoon took care of all of them, yet Yoongi has been the only one who never spoke on anyone who could be out for him.

For all they knew, he didn’t have anyone in particular. For all they knew, he was just a poor little kid who needed the world to treat him better.

So why the Vipers?

And why were you kidnapped as well? They can excuse whatever your story is because it isn’t much of their business to know every little detail about you, but Yoongi? They’ve known him almost their entire life and yet this one detail he failed to share with him was the very reason they couldn’t find him.

And if he was kidnapped, wouldn’t that mean getting more injuries than he’s showing right now?

The bloody eye is bad but compared to the knife trails and gash marks and wounds cutting so deep they still bleed out almost everywhere, Yoongi’s treatment by the Vipers was clearly much better than yours.

They have many questions to ask him but knowing the number one priority is to get you to safety, they keep silent for the moment.

You’re rushed into a small hospital under Bangtan, and while Yoongi needs to prioritize his eye, he makes sure to be there when you’re brought into the surgery room and tells everyone off so they don’t touch you. 

You need help, he knows. He knows it more than anyone really, because for a lot of the torture you went through, he saw it with his very own eyes, and yet the fact that you trusted him enough to fall asleep before his eyes and let him touch you, Yoongi knows not to betray that trust.

He can’t.

He can’t.

So Namjoon allows his people to back off, and the seconds tick by once more while they wait for your crew to arrive.

Yoongi makes sure to follow procedures that’ll help you ease a bit, to slow down your time under the doctors’ instructions, and it’s in this moment do the boys come to see the rare times Yoongi stops allowing himself to blend into the background and do something. He usually keeps himself invisible, quiet, off to the side, keeping his expression at a standstill so no one who doesn’t know him well would be able to tell what’s on his mind.

This Yoongi panics. This Yoongi doesn’t know what expressionless means.

This Yoongi fears.

Only when Mingyu shows up do they finally convince him to get himself treated.

He sits in the room across the emergency room with Hoseok and Seokjin standing off to the side, getting treated by a doctor of their own, while the rest of them stand around outside, waiting for the hours that they know it’ll take to treat you.

Yuna, your blind warrior, sits on the floor of the hospital, her arms hugging her knees with anxiety rocking her body back and forth. She doesn’t say a word but everyone can hear the little sniffles she does ever so often.

She’s like a child waiting on the news of her mother’s accident and everyone knows if it’s bad news, she won’t take it well.

Yeonjun has a book in hand while he sits on a chair beside her, eyes scanning the text though no pages flip no matter how much time has passed.

“I’m sorry,” little Sunoo says when Mingyu crouches down to his level, finally allowing himself to shed the tears he’s been unable to shed in a room full of strangers. “I’m so sorry,” he tells your right hand man, fists knuckle white when he clutches onto his blazer. “I couldn’t protect her.”

Such little shoulders carrying a heavy weight. He worries more about your wellbeing than his own, than the fact that he had to see a whole building catching on fire with people still inside, hear gunshots and people dying, being held at gunpoint, the fact that he could have died and he worries only for you.

Mingyu places a hand on those shoulders, shaking his head. “No one will blame you for that, Sunoo. Not even boss.”

“You don’t understand, I…” He pauses to catch his voice that threatens to bury down the lump in his throat. “Do you remember what you told me when my lady finally completed her rescue plan? When I told you I wanted to be a Reaper?” How can Mingyu forget? “You told me I had to first learn how to manipulate my feelings, that I had to hide them well, and that I needed to learn how to restrain myself during times that’ll force me to act against my will. You told me I had to be a good bystander first and initially, I couldn’t figure out what you meant. Being a good bystander? It..”

More tears fall down those precious eyes, trailing down his cheeks, hanging onto his chin before they inevitably fall to the floor. “I understand now,” his voice breaks. “I know…I know what it means and I…I never want to do it ever again.” His feelings overwhelm him so much he’s unable to stand on his two feet. Sunoo’s knees buckle underneath him and it meets the floor yet he continues to speak. “Lady Y/N was hurting and she…she was chained up and she couldn’t even sit. They forced her to stand the whole time they tortured her. She screamed and…and yet she laughed when that evil lady taunted her and every time I wanted to give up, to yell at the lady to stop, Lady Y/N always warned me not to. It was like she was saying…as if she was saying ‘It’s alright. It’s alright, I can take this. Just play your part, just pretend you don’t care about me, and I’ll be alright.’”

“You must never show them you care. Father will have you dead and I will pay more of the consequences.”

“If you stay silent, it will hurt less.”

“Do not move even a muscle when they hurt me. Do not stand in father’s way or our whole secret will be blown and none of us will survive.”

“This is the only way we can live.”

Yuna’s eyes lost.

Yuna’s eyes are lost.

Yuna.

Yunayunayuna.

Nakyum.

You reminded them constantly of what could happen to them were the truth to be revealed due to a mishap, due to their carelessness. Sunoo had to go through days watching you hurt, the Reapers spent years in silence. Watching.

And no day was easier than the other. There was not a day they wanted to step in, to defend you, to take the whips and blades and all the torture tools from the hands of your perpetrators and shove it up their asses, doing the same they’ve done to you. There was not a day Mingyu wanted to smash his fists onto their faces until they were dead. No, he’d continue even after they were dead.

There was not a day they wanted the revolt to happen so soon.

The day after?

“No,” you’d say. “Be patient. Hold on.”

But they didn’t want to hold on, they didn’t want to see more of you having to go through all those pains and agony and yet they had to. If they wanted to save you, if they wanted you to live, they had to.

They had to stay silent.

They had to watch.

They had to do nothing.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her,” Sunoo says.

“I wish I can protect her,” Yuna screams. “Why can’t I protect her?!”

“You know why.”

“You did well.” Mingyu squeezes his shoulders tight, lips pressed into a thin line. “You not protecting her protected her. You did well.” He places a hand behind his head, pressing him into an embrace and the kid cries and cries, his screams buried against Mingyu’s chest. “You did well,” Mingyu repeats. “They would have hurt her more if you had done something so you did well. You did so, so well.”

No one ever told them that but the Reapers know that they, too, had done well.

Everyone in the room knows just what Mingyu means when he said not protecting meant protecting because they’ve all been through it. Namjoon has the power to never go through such things ever again but he’s seen it time after time when he was younger.

Those days his brother still lived with him — still lived — with their abusive father, both of them unable to do a thing but watch when one would get hurt. Those days when times were rougher, when his brother left for a mission and his close subordinates had to keep still and not go against his father when he was hurt otherwise they’d die. Those days when he was powerless.

“Save me,” you begged Seokjin in a moment of madness.

So broken but so full of life before it all disappeared within a split second, turning dull and lifeless like a corpse inside a living body.

You’ve never uttered that in your entire life, have you? He’s sure you haven’t, not with the way you are. Even the you then was stubborn to call for help because she was too insecure, too hesitant and always overthought everything, walls built so high even the people she loved were unable to break through.

You were too broken to ask for help and they’ve been too dumb to realize it until now.

“Save me.”

Seokjin can never forget that day, he can never forget the way you froze when he held you, trying to reel you back into reality after your initial explosion. The way you shakily reached out for him, bloody hands dirtying his white button-up shirt, and looked up at him as if he was the only one you could trust in that moment.

Perhaps a memory flashed into your mind then, perhaps you remembered the way he used to care for you, the way he used to be the one to ground you when you broke down and were having panic attacks. He held onto you when the two of you still loved and you looked for him to calm down, to settle back into the peace he’d always give you when you saw him. He’d be the fastest to help you escape from those nightmares and return you from where your mind would go.

He’d sing lullabies to help you sleep and you’d rely on him the most when it came to nightmares because Seokjin was an insomniac. He didn’t sleep. So during times when you’d awake from a nightmare or needed someone to pull you out of it, it was Seokjin that was always there.

Perhaps in your moment of weakness, you remembered those times and perhaps that’s why you turned to him. That’s why you asked him to save you.

But he knows that right now, you’d get upset if he were to bring it up and take responsibility for you uttering those words to him. The things you’ve gone through after you left them, after the divorce with Namjoon, are things he can only imagine in his head. Seokjin has gone through his fair share of trauma and one traumatic patient can see it in another who wants to hide it well.

You’ve been through stuff, horrible stuff, with Daejung, Ying, Jummy, Leehyung, and so many more on your list. At first, he thought you taking over the throne of your father was just an act of rebellion, but through the times he’s spent with you, he realizes, as do the rest of the members, that the people on your hit-list, the people you’re going after, are only the people that have done you wrong.

Seokjin should have known that someone who was as kind and gentle as you were all those years ago couldn’t have just changed without reason. No one changes that drastically without reason.

But it’s clear as day to all of them that you’d rather they rot in hell than find out the truth to those reasons. That’s why Namjoon refuses to investigate anything involving you and that’s why they’ve all agreed that it’s best to simply leave it at that.

Namjoon wants to know more than anyone what happened to his brother but if finding out about him means knowing more about you, then he’d rather wait and let you tell him instead. Because through their experience, they know more than anyone that figuring out the truth of something when it’s unwanted will only hurt that person, and as much as Namjoon felt infuriated with you at first, he understands.

They all do.

And you would hate them more than you do now if they were to figure out something you’ve been keeping a secret your entire life. No one should ever force an answer out of anyone, and they know that because of your silence, they do not deserve to know.

So until you can trust them, if it ever comes to that point, they will remain ignorant to the fact on purpose. Because why find out when there is no reason to?

Seokjin can’t be your anchor, he won’t, because you no longer trust him enough to even touch you. You’re scared of the world, the whole world, and the only one who can now calm you down as fast as he had done then, is Mingyu, your second in command.

For now, his role is to only stand to the side and watch. Though he knows watching in itself is something you won’t allow him to do. You won’t let him see your weaknesses anymore, you won’t let him near, and you won’t ask him for help.

And all of that is entirely his fault.

💜💜💜

Before I Leave You (Pt. 49)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Hobi has a bad day, you make it better.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, fluff, Hobi x m/c focus, low self-esteem issues, mild implied/referenced self-harm, falling in love, transphobia, Homophobia, Flashbacks to Sexual assault, Manipulation, coerced sex, Implied emotional abuse 

W/c: 10.9k

A/n: Be mindful the tags with this one! I wouldn’t say that the self-harm in this is like- the most triggering thing I’ve ever written but still there is a SERIOUS homophobia (alpha-phobia?) in this sneek peek and a flash back to a time hobi was coerced into sex by his last pack! ALSO- the lovely @imperiussexrex​ has made a little bily discord server over here- be mindful of the rules and tbh SPOILERS ABOUND- but its been really nice to talk to people so far <3 

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

“You people can’t do anything right. How is it that you don’t even know the difference between ranunculus and roses? This is why you only make minimum wage.”

The alpha’s scent stinks up the shop with the smell of moldy fruit, scratching the inside of Hobi’s nose raw. It’s a good thing that Hobi’s boss is back in the trailer overseeing the delivery of hay bales and gourds for fall decorating.  

He’s not there to hear the customer curse under her breath as Hobi apologizes again and hands her back her card. If he was, Hobi might get fired.  

“Fucking pathetic- fucking worthless-” 

Keep reading

yoongi x his signature smirk

cr. namuspromised

💜💜💜

happy birthday to the most relatable person on this planet, min yoongi! ♡ (cr)

💜💜💜

💜💜💜

cry me a river | the frightened ones

— summary: drowning in the middle of the sea means being blind and not knowing who is on your side and who wishes to pull you in deeper

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.7k

— warnings: nightmares, mentions of hallucinating, aggressive acts, kidnapping

— PART 18 / previous post / masterpost

“Are you scared?”

You look up in the complete void of the room, darkness shadowing all that you are as you sit in that lone void, knees held up to your chest, arms wrapped around them with your head lowered until you hear the voice.

A familiar, gentle voice.

“....Mister Butler?” You call hesitantly, confused and almost frightened at how young he looks, as if he had never aged. He was only seventeen when he met you after all, twenty-two when he died.

Those widened pupils which have been engraved in your memories will be something you will never forget for the rest of your life. The day he died, the day your whole world fell apart, when everything went wrong from that point on.

Father blamed you for the longest time for his death, Mister Butler himself visiting you in dreams after dreams, for a moment relieving you only for him to shame you and blame you for killing him.

You remember those dreams in faint glimpses, fragments, shattered glass. And whenever Mister Butler would appear before you, the whole room would remain just as cold as your life turned when he died and your world turned upside down. 

Yet today it feels a little warmer.

Why does it feel warm?

And why is he here? He hasn’t visited your dreams in ages. You thought he’d abandoned you.

“Hello there, little miss.” He smiles sweetly in the way your memories keep on him, the real him, not your make-believe nightmares. That boyish, kind smile always makes your insides warm in the way only he’s able to do in the darkness of your life. He takes a seat before you, glowing brightly in the darkness of the abyss that keeps your heart cold and hard.

You feel his warmth the way you recall your forgotten memories and your heart aches at the sight of him, remembering, remembering.

You hate remembering. Hate being reminded of what happened that night.

Car crash, tires screeching loudly against the pavement, an explosion, a gunshot, a scream, a cry.

Mister Butler. Dead.

“I…” You stutter, the sound in your throat trying to give away, a lump restricting it from within, and you feel like you want to throw up. You want to sit up, to reach out to him, touch him, feel him, but your body won’t move.

It only lurches forward as you hold a hand over your mouth, the sickness in the pits of your stomach wishing to relieve the empty contents in there.

You want to speak but no word would come on, no sound, so you’re left with only trembling in plain sight, unable to ask for help, to ask him why he’s here, if he wants to scorn you again, if this time, he’s going to yell at you for hurting his little brother, for lying to his little brother.

You’re afraid.

Afraid.

“Little miss.” But his voice remains gentle when he calls for you and you almost cry at how soft he sounds. But even then, even with Mister Butler right here before you, nothing can help you shed tears anymore. They’ve all gone, wasted on a pitiful father who didn’t deserve any of it.

You feel a hand on your back, his warmth surging forth into your body as if he was a human furnace himself and you look up, slowly, frightened that what you’re seeing is only a figment of your imagination.

“I….I’m scared,” you finally manage to admit to his initial question, wanting to avoid his eyes but knowing because he only lives on in your memories and dreams, this is the only way you can ever see him so you keep your eyes on him, wanting to recall every detail, every little thing you can remember. You lean back into a seated position with some struggle, trying to focus.

“I know you are,” Mister Butler nods with a troubled smile. “You’ve blocked your heart from the world, haven’t you, little one?” He asks, taking a look at the darkness of this space.

“You told me not everyone deserves the heart that I’ve been given. You told me to stop letting them all stomp on me.”

“Not everyone,” he emphasizes, an eyebrow arched your way with a pointed stare. “That doesn’t mean shut yourself away from everyone.”

You bite your lower lip. “Same difference.”

“It isn’t and you know that,” he chides and you shrink into your seat, feeling a bit ashamed because he always sees through you no matter how hard you try. Will he scold you again? Speak the words he knows will hurt you the most? “But you’re scared.” Yet he doesn’t this time. This time Mister Butler is real.

Real.

Not those fake nightmares your mind decided to make up because you were made to believe his death was your fault.

This time Mister Butler is real and he understands. He always does. “And the people that you’ve trusted have all abandoned you. Your own father has made you into the killer that you are today.”

“Do you see me as a monster?” You look at him with a bit of desperation, frightened for his answer.

Mister Butler takes a moment to simply watch you, falling silent, as if letting you take this time to reflect back on what you had just said, and when you keep your resolution, he speaks again. “To me, you are nothing else but my young little miss,” he says. “Why would I ever see you as anything else?”

“Because I can’t control it,” you tell him, a bit frustrated, a bit desperate. You show him your hands. They tremble uncontrollably when you lay your palms to face you from your lap. “I want to hurt everyone that has hurt me and…and what if one day I come to hurt myself?”

“You can control it.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you can. And you will.”

“You don’t understand.”

“My young, little miss.” His voice remains calm, steady, and light, unlike you who seems to only fall out of control, desperate and in a panic, scared and frightened and mad, looking up at him and pleading at him to save you. To ground you. To control you. “How much longer will you keep hurting yourself? How much longer will you refuse to trust the people around you?”

“I can’t.” You say again, more stressed. “They’ll leave one day, just like everyone else has. They’ll leave.” Your voice shakes.

“Are you so afraid despite how many sacrifices they’ve made for you?”

“It’s because of that,” you say, hands running through your hair in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. You can feel it, you’re becoming unstable once again. Your heart is racing. Racing hard. “Because they’ll make the sacrifices, I can’t…I can’t-”

“Show them your heart?”

“Because they’ll leave.” You nod. “Everyone leaves. And if they leave…who will I have?”

“You’re drowning yourself, young miss.”

“What else can I do?” You want to scream and shout and let everything out but father still sits in the back of your mind, taunting you, threatening you. Shouting will do nothing. No one will come. No one will save you no matter how loud you are. So you have to remain quiet. You have to because shouting will make no difference.

You stand from your seat abruptly, hands running through your hair as you pace the room, unsettled by everything. You’re a mess right now, unable to stay calm, while Mister Butler remains seated from where he is, simply watching everything unfold before his eyes.

“I…” There’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. If you run, you’ll only end up right back where you were. Running means nothing in the world of the abyss. You hold your hands together, nails clawing at your skin. “Why won’t you shout at me?” You turn back to your precious butler, frustrated that despite how familiar he feels right now, it isn’t helping you in the slightest. Perhaps the nightmare versions of him was better, perhaps hearing him shout at you and blame you for everything is better. “Why won’t…why won’t you blame me? Why’re you yourself right now?”

“Do you want me to shout at you?” He asks and you fall to your knees before him.

“Please,” you beg, palms pressing against one another but when it feels like that isn’t enough, you let them press against the cold floor, bowing forward, forehead meeting the floor. “Please blame me, please scorn me, please, just give me anything, anything. Just don’t be kind.”

But Mister Butler only watches you in silence, his gaze afflicted with pain as he stares at the little girl whom he was entrusted to ending up the way that she is right now.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe. “If it wasn’t for me…you…you could have lived. Why did you stay for someone like me, Mister Butler? Why? You could have gone home, could have returned to the little brother that was awaiting your return and had been waiting for your return for the longest time. But I shattered that hope for him. I broke him, Mister Butler, all because I was selfish and vengeful and only thought about my needs and my wants and didn’t care for anything else.”

“Sit up.”

“No.” You shake your head vehemently. “It was my fault. Everything’s my fault. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing’s your fault.”

“Everything’s my fault.”

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for. Young miss look at me.” You look up, just slightly, with creasing brows and quivering lips. “The decisions you make, the life you are living, the path you have chosen, I will never blame you for anything. You think I care whether you remained kind for the rest of your life? You think it matters to me whether you can still give your heart out and smile for people just as you’ve done all those years ago?”

“I’m weak.”

“And I don’t care,” he stresses with a desperate expression trying to make you believe in him. “All those people that say you’re weak because you can’t remain kind after what you’ve gone through, to the ones who tell you to keep your heart warm, that being kind is powerful, that you’re not strong because you want vengeance, well fuck them. No one in this world knows what you’ve gone through and they have no right to tell you what to do with your life. You’re here because you’re here and no matter how weak you may think you are for making the decisions that you’ve made, no matter how weak they may think you are, to me you are the strongest person I have ever seen, young miss. You’re living. And I will never blame you for living.”

“I don’t feel like I’m living.” You sit up, eyes shaking as you can still feel just how surreal everything feels; your trembling body, drying lips, heartbeat drumming hard against your chest, that screech in the back of your ears. “But I…” You look up at him again, as if praying, begging to the Gods from above, “I want to live.”

Mister Butler’s eyes soften upon those words, his shoulders dropping slightly as if a weight has fallen from them and he nods, understanding.

“I know.” 

He gets on his knees and leans in, arms wrapping around you and when you expect to be reminded of those arms that held you, comforted you night after night, days after days, you feel nothing.

You don’t feel his embrace, his familiar warmth, his strong, strong arms that always seem to protect you from all harm. You feel none of that and you look up, brows knitted, eyes burning red.

“Why….why can’t I feel you?”

There’s a hand on your shoulder but all you see is the hand, you don’t feel a thing. He takes a small glance its way before sending you a troubled smile, transient and painful. “Because I only live on,” he takes his other hand and presses a finger at your forehead, “in here.”

“You….” Your face crumbles as if the world has just fallen down and the coldness returns like a blizzard in the middle of winter, sudden and harsh. “You’re leaving too…aren’t you?” You sit up from your position, knees meeting the floor as your hands reach out, trying to touch him but only meeting the air in between where his figure should have been.

He’s a ghost.

Just a spirit.

“Please,” you beg. “Please don’t leave me either. Don’t leave me, Mister Butler. If you leave, I….I can’t live on. I can’t do this without you. Please…please don’t leave me.”

Your fist meets the floor, punching and punching out of frustration and desperation, wanting to touch him and hold him and embrace him again. Just like how it was in your memories, just like how he lived on all those years ago.

“Please….”

“You don’t remember, young miss?” He holds a hand out, holding your face and brushing away where invisible tears should have been. 

“I’m already gone,” he whispers, and you awake from your dream.

Panting out of breath.

Heartbeat racing.

Aching.

Hands trembling.

You throw the blanket off you, stumble on your weakened legs but force it up and race to throw the doors open, allowing light to shine through in the darkness of your room. And then you run some more, eyes focused on one thing and one thing only.

You look around as if in a trance, in a hurry, vision coming in and out, dimmed, legs failing you ever so often when your knees wish to buckle underneath you, stumbling, having to reach out for the wall, a nearby stand for those fancy vases meant to keep the flowers alive. You accidentally knock one off when your legs try to give up but you don’t care.

There is one man you’re looking for. One lone man.

“Boss-?”

“Give him back to me.” And when you find him, you’re quick to lung at him. The bandages around your right hand wraps all around from the night at Bangtan’s manor but you ignore the pain as you clutch onto Mingyu’s shirt, eyes frantic and heart racing. “Give him back to me. Give him back! Give him back right now! I didn't kill him. It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it. So please, please give him back. I didn’t do anything, I didn’t do anything wrong. I was good, I listened to you and I obeyed your every word but why did you take away the only person that ever loved me? Why, why?! He didn’t do anything wrong.”

The rest of the Reapers that heard your call watch on as you cling onto Mingyu, shouting at him in a crazed manner as if hallucinating and in a dream-like trance.

“Why didn’t you kill me instead? Why did you blame me? Why did you say that I was the one who killed him? I didn’t pull the trigger, I didn’t cause a little boy to lose his precious older brother and I certainly didn’t kill the very person I loved like he was my own brother. Why? Why did you take him away from me? Give him back! Give him back or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!!”

You snatch your hands from his blazer to wrap them around his neck, throwing him down onto the floor with legs on either side of him.

Mingyu simply lays there as your hands tighten, eyes staring down at him with nothing but pure rage and fear combined into one, the kind of sight that’s rarely seen so clearly upon your face because you’re always so good at hiding your emotions from everyone. But in this hallucinating state, in your unconscious awareness, you glare down at him with disdain, with the purest form of hate, hands trembling despite having full control and power over him as you tighten your hands, wanting nothing but his death to arrive.

Mingyu’s sight blurs, his breathing constricting, but he does nothing despite it all and it’s the rest of the Reapers that have to shout at you and rip you off him.

“Boss!”

“Boss, wake up!”

“That’s Mingyu you’re hurting!”

“Die! Just die already! Why aren’t you dead? I shot you straight in the head and watched until you no longer breathed so why? Why are you still here?” Yet you’re still trashing about, having to be forcefully removed and dragged onto the floor by three of the Reapers, two grabbing each of your arms, the last behind you and pulling you back by the torso.

Yet despite being a few feet away and the others have turned to Mingyu, helping him back up while he coughs from the chokehold you had him in, you’re still not seeing straight.

“I didn’t kill him, I didn’t kill him so please…please stop blaming me. It wasn’t me. I promise it wasn’t me.” You look up with desperation this time. More hurt, more pain than anger and rage fueling your thoughts. Your hands come to your head after pushing the Reapers away, tugging at the scalp of your hair, pulling on them like some crazed maniac trying to keep everything in their control and not being able to.

“It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it.” You tremble, knees coming up to your chest, rocking your body back and forth. “It was you, you had the gun, you…..” Your brows knit, trying to think but thinking doesn’t help and you’re only left with more questions. “The gunshot…was you. Mister Butler didn’t….he…”

White eyes, dark pupils, staring straight ahead as if possessed by some sort of spirit.

But he wasn’t possessed. He wasn’t cursed. 

He was dead.

Father killed him and father hovered over you, telling you that it was because of you that he killed him. It was because of you. Because Mister Butler was kind to you. Because Mister Butler loved you. He died because he loved you.

You look up again, fearful as you stare up at Mingyu, hair all a mess and there’s something in your eyes that he notices, something different.

You narrow your gaze, slightly, as if thinking, as if lost in thoughts, and when you turn to the other eyes leveled your way, you scurry a few inches back, hands still on your head as if frightened all of a sudden, as if somehow realizing Mingyu isn’t your father and this manor isn’t full of his people.

These are your Reapers. It’s Mingyu.

“......If you love me……you’ll end up just like him. Just like them.” 

Bangtan.

Whether those vows of love were true or not, they all left in the end.

“You’ll all leave…in the end. You’ll leave….eventually.” You try to search through your memories for something. Anything. “So don’t make any promises. Don’t….don’t love me. You cannot. If you do…you’ll leave. So don’t do anything of those sorts. Don’t…don’t cling to me. Your vows of loyalty, your promises, they’re nothing but lies…nothing but, illusions. Fantasies. Everything that we’re doing now..this? This is nothing but a shitshow. We’re in a circus. You’re the clowns and I’m the ringmaster and in the end…..in the end……the clowns will find a new circus and the ringmaster will be left all alone. Either that or the ringmaster will be the one to abandon the clowns first. So don’t cling to me. Don’t love me. If you do, I’ll kill you myself.”

You turn from them, eyes falling drowsy, headache pushing you to just simply turn for the floor and lay your head there, not wanting to move another inch.

Yeonjun, who’s the closest to your side, crouches down and lends you his lap, and in your unconscious state, you don’t fight him off and just simply give into falling back asleep once again like a lost little puppy crawling towards the hand that feeds him, while the room remains silent for the longest time, just watching you from where they first stood, not moving an inch.

No one knows what to say or do.

It’s Dasom who makes the first move. She kneels beside the second in command, her hand tracing the red ring that has formed around his neck with knitted brows. “Are you alright?”

He turns to her, sees the way she bites against her lower lip. It quivers, her eyes watery but holding back, and when he looks up at the rest of the Reapers, they look just as concerned, just as hurt, even Yuna who no longer has eyes has her back turned, a sniff leaving her.

“How odd,” Mingyu utters softly under his breath but the Reapers hear it all. He looks your way and they watch his move, the way he reaches out to you who’s held in Yeonjun’s arms, sleeping, and brushes a thumb under your eye. “Even in that state…she doesn’t know how to shed a tear.”

He hates being unable to come in full control, hates it when he can’t be the one you can rely on but today of all the days he’s spent with you, he hates today most of all.

Because today, you saw him as the very man who has hurt you more than anyone has. You saw him as your father.

.

.

.

“Are you afraid?”

Dasom knows it, Mingyu knows it, everyone knows it.

That of course he’s afraid, that what had happened this morning frightened him more than anything because out of all the things you’ve thrown at him, you’ve never looked at him with pure rage and anger and most of all, fear.

But you did.

You saw him as your father, as the very man who had hurt you from the very moment you were born into this world, as your abuser, and despite it being for only a moment, Mingyu cannot forget that look in your eyes watching him with so much disgust he loathes every part of him now.

Dasom wants to tell him that it isn’t his fault, that nothing he did triggered you into seeing him as your father, that it was probably just a nightmare you received because there will be times when you’ll “awaken” and act on those nightmares, frightened and not in the right conscious awareness.

She wants to tell him, but watching him from where he sits, she can do nothing but watch on, waiting for his silence to end, to answer her question, and return to the formidable man that he always was.

But perhaps there are days even Mingyu has when he has to give in to his worries and fears, though he never cares to share them and probably always keeps those things to himself. He’s the foundation after all, not just for you but for the Reapers as well, and Dasom guesses perhaps she’s become much too reliant on him just as everyone here has.

Everyone has their moments, especially you, but what about Mingyu who always seems to be level-headed, cool, and calm about everything? As if he has everything under control and nothing can shake him. What shakes him?

The answer is you.

You shake him.

“What if she swims too far down and loses sight of where the surface is?” He asks quietly with his back still turned to her, eyes blankly staring out the window, lost in thoughts. 

He already placed some salve on his neck to soothe the pain and wear down the redness from where you choked him, hiding the white bandage under a turtle neck so that when you do come around once more and is actually consciously aware of your surrounding, you won’t have to question why he had hurt himself.

Dasom knows he’d rather not tell you it was you who had hurt him.

Because despite the fact that their boss tends to feign her arrogance, she cares. She cares in the smallest ways and him telling you that you were the one to have hurt any of your Reapers would mean scarring you.

Hence he ordered them to not utter a word about what happened this morning to you.

They promised to keep their mouths shut because besides you, Mingyu’s words are law.

After all, they’d rather not put more burdens onto your shoulders.

You’ve never hurt any of the Reapers in all the years they came and vowed their loyalties unto you. You’ve never laid a finger on any of them. You aren’t like your father in the slightest. You’re powerful but not abusive, you would never raise a hand at them or tell another soul to do so.

In following your father’s steps, you learned what to do and what not to do, following your own morals while learning to grow strong.

The only person you’ve hurt has been Yuna and Yuna alone.

She mentioned it before, once, and never again perhaps because it’s a memory she’d rather not revisit, but in you taking her eyes away, there were nights when Yuna would pretend she was sleeping and hear your soft little sorrys leaving your lips.

You told her you were sorry for being weak, for having to do such a thing just for your father. You told her you hated your father, that you’d rather he died right then at that moment so that no one else had to suffer for your case.

You told her you’d never allow anyone close to your side, that they had to understand what their positions meant before father could ever fall suspicious ever again. You told her she’d be the first and last one.

Yuna, the very first Reaper, sacrificed everything just to be by your side, proving her loyalty and allowing the rest of the Reapers now to be who they are today; giving their vows unto you and remaining by your side for as long as time can give them.

“If boss loses sight of the surface…won’t you be the one to guide her back?” Dasom asks, her voice gentler than normal, her demeanor calm and steady. “Even in the darkest part of the ocean, you always manage to bring boss back.”

“And if she mistakes me for one of the creatures trying to drag her deeper down?”

“Then you continue pulling her up.” She steps in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder in order to make sure he’s looking right at her when she speaks. “Nothing has ever stopped you from protecting boss, you can’t start getting weak now, Mingyu. You know more than anyone showing an ounce of weakness means allowing boss to drown even further. We’re the only beacons in her life, Mingyu, and she relies on us whether she wants to admit it or not. She relies on us and she relies on you. You’re her foundation, her control. When she gets lost in that storm and out in the sea, you’re the only one who can ground her down and keep her steady again. You’re the only one, Mingyu, so don’t lose it now. Don’t lose control.”

Dasom takes a small moment to look down and take his hand. It’s the first time she’s ever seen them look so small, trembling slightly with fear and uncertainty. Mingyu’s always such a bright man who knows just what to do in every situation without hesitating when it comes to the gang and you. He does everything without faltering and now here he is, falling back for a moment, a split moment, and it’s all because of you.

He’s afraid.

Afraid of failing you, of losing you. No one worries about you in the way Mingyu does and because of that, here he is, shoulders weighed by the heavy burden.

“You’re not just her control though,” Dasom speaks again, her voice gentler, quieter, “you’re ours too.” She looks back at him, steady in her gaze. “We cannot afford you losing your cool, not even for a second. But if the time ever passes for you to shake, come to me and rely on me. Let me be your control.” She takes his hand to press against the beat of her heart, causing Mingyu’s brows to furrow slightly with surprise and conflict. Yet Dasom remains resolute.

“Allow me to be your control, Mingyu, so that boss can continue breathing.”

There was a time he once told her in your moment of weakness, when you were passed onto Yeonjun to be taken care of, that as long as he lived, he lived as your foundation. So if there ever comes a moment when he falters and trembles before your eyes, he risks taking your oxygen away and breaking you further.

Mingyu, more than anyone, is afraid of ever showing weakness before you because he’s the only one you can rely on. The presence of him alone, the steady calm air he exceeds all around, can calm you down and allow your heart rate to slow down and breathe again. When the world seems to shake, when it chokes you, constricting you of air, Mingyu’s the only one who can return the oxygen back into your lungs.

“What did you do?” Yuna’s voice echoes in the back of his memories. A younger Yuna, a Yuna he hadn’t known too well yet in that moment. A Yuna who looked up at him with accusation as she stood guarding you against him.

“I…I-I didn’t-” The younger him then was confused, frightened, as the younger girl shouted at him.

“You obviously did something if milady is—” She paused mid-sentence, frozen, sudden, before turning to you who sat on the floor, hands in her hair, trembling like a leaf.

“You cannot, Mingyu, you cannot show her your weakness, no matter what. Otherwise you’ll trigger her and that is the last thing we want.”

There was a mistake he once did, a mistake that had almost cost your stability. He was young and naive then, thought he knew everything, thought that he was good enough to be by your side. It was Yuna who had to teach him everything, who taught him how to handle you, how to behave around you, everything.

Everything until he learned to take it a step further and help you in ways the little Yuna was unable to. Only then, only when he grew stronger and more stable than Yuna could ever be, did you allow him to be your right hand man, the only man allowed to be near you when your world seems to be falling apart.

So trembling in even the slightest amount in front of you is out of the question. Mingyu doesn’t ever want to risk the chances of you thinking there’s no one else you can rely on. He can’t be weak. Not in front of you. Not ever.

And Dasom understands that.

She understands.

So he takes a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath in, feeling the beat of her steady heart calm his nerves to remind him of who he is and what he is capable of.

He is Mingyu, your right hand man, your control, your breath of air, your foundation.

When he opens his eyes again, they no longer falter with hesitation as he gives her a nod, allowing her the task of being his control when he needs it.

.

.

.

Actions can be harder to execute despite the constant reminder.

He told the Reapers to all act normal, that they must never mention what happened the day you woke up more hysterical than any other times you’ve been, but still a part of him fears you still have that part of you still in there somewhere, that somehow, someway, you’ll still mistake him of your father.

In all the years he’s spent secretly loyal only to you, Mingyu has always wanted you to be more expressive and more honest with your feelings. In all the years you’ve lived under your father, you’ve never had the courage to act any other way than living in a void of emotions, unable to feel anything.

Not anger, not sadness, not anything.

Or at least, you were always the best at hiding them and suppressing them.

But ever since his death, it’s almost as if your body and mind know of it and has allowed you to begin acting up, to show your emotions a little more, to be more aggressive, and feel less in control of yourself. You dream more, you wake up more often than usual in the middle of the night in a daze, sleepwalking, sleep talking, and awaken with no memories of what you had done during those moments. 

You’ve come to rely on him even more, reaching out for him, getting more anxiety and panic attacks, falling out of control, and having him to reel you back in.

And even though he knows you’re smart enough to understand that he would never do anything to hurt you, that small little moment of you frightful of him will forever be engraved in his mind, whether you know of it or not.

But Mingyu tries his best to remain calm and collected, not wanting to alert you of anything wrong. He doesn’t want your mind drifting off to something else when you’ve already got a handful of problems weighing you down.

Today you sit on a chair that faces sideways from the window, arm resting against the armrest as you look down at your hand, the one wrapped in white bandages from your last visit at the Bangtan manor.

He hopes you don’t notice it got a bit worse after you ignored the healing in order to go after him the day before, but knowing you, you’re smart enough to notice even the slightest of change.

Still, you don’t speak on it.

“Mingyu.” You say and he almost breathes a sigh of relief at the call of his name. “I…” You speak slowly, still in a space where you aren’t fully conscious but you’re getting there, trying to return to reality, trying to reel back in. “I want to visit the kids,” you look up at him, lids heavy but trying, “The Academy.”

He gives you a firm nod, obedient. “I understand.”

And so Mingyu walks off to ready all the things necessary for your departure while you remain in the seat beside the window, staring out with a blank gaze, head lost in the clouds.

You dress warmly in white and a soft style, scarf hiding the bandages around your neck, hands hidden under your long sleeves being as the gloves causes a bit of pain when placed on top of your injured knuckles.

When you step out of the car to find the building you built about two years ago, some bits of memories flash back into your mind.

The children, Ying’s victims, all now reside here after finally having enough power and influence to be able to rescue them. You’re sure all the things they’ve been through probably still cause them nightmares but you hope that in a way, you building them this safe place rather than abandoning them in orphanages has been able to help if even a little.

Your sudden visit, even while Mingyu had called in advance, causes a ruckus.

The kids are all excited from the very moment you step onto The Academy grounds, eyes watching you with awe and fascination from the windows, and when the doors open for you, the headmaster and two other faculty greet you with formal bows leveled respectfully your way.

You shake off the formality and look at Mingyu's way to do the speaking for you.

“Be at ease,” he commands. “Boss is only here to see how things are going. Resume your schedules as they were.”

“We’ll have someone escort you to navigate you through the floors.”

“No need. We’ll just have a look around.”

“Milady!”

“It’s Lady Y/N!

“Children—”

You put a hand up at the headmaster’s scolding and she’s quick to back down. Then with another respectful bow made your way, the three of them walk off to their previous posts, as per Mingyu’s orders, while you turn to the kids who once looked hesitant upon almost getting scolded.

“Look at that,” you stare at the familiar faces, “not so skinny anymore, are you?” Their faces are quick to light up at your familiar approach. “Have you been eating well?”

“Yes, my lady!”

“Look, I’m growing muscles!”

“The adults here are kind, my lady.”

“But don’t worry, we won’t naively trust just anyone here.”

You raise a brow. “Will you?”

“Everything Lady Y/N says is law so of course we’ll abide by anything you say.”

“And what did I say about trusting me so easily?”

They quickly frown with protest.

“But you saved us.”

“And built an academy just for us.”

“And we’re fed well and trained well.”

“And get to sleep in a comfy bed when night falls.”

“How can we not trust you?”

You take a glance at Mingyu’s way when they come at you with all the good deeds you’ve given them, sighing when he gives you a simple shrug. Well, at the end of the day, whether you’d like them to listen to you, kids will be kids and look towards the ones who treat them with the most kindness.

Though their loyalty is the most reliable.

“You look a bit tired, my lady.” One of them notes with a more apprehensive approach, her lips pressed into a small pout, brows creased slightly. Lily stares at you with concern. “You look like how we looked when we were still with Ying.”

“Are you eating well?”

“If you’re hungry, I saved a snack from breakfast this morning. It’s really good, my lady.” Sunoo offers you a sweet bread cake wrapped in a clear plastic wrapper and you simply stand there for a moment, staring at it without a word.

Cakes, desserts, snacks. Things you never got the chance of touching ever since the death of Mister Butler. He used to steal these little things for you. You remember whenever night came, when the whole manor fell asleep with only a few left awake, he would sneak into your room or you would sneak into his and he’d allow you to eat then, away from prying eyes, away from everyone else.

You craved sweets after his death, missed those little moments when he used to make you the happiest little girl in the world. You missed it all.

But you remember clearly when food became something you no longer craved, when it became the very thing you grew to fear and you would only eat the food you knew you could trust in tiny portions, just enough to let you get by.

And now you can’t even eat anything that hasn’t been made physically by the hands of your Reapers. Only the Reapers. So whether Sunoo has good intentions or not, you cannot accept his gift.

“I’m not hungry,” so you state looking away coldly from his gift and for a second you think it may have offended him, that it may have hurt him, but he recovers rather quickly as if coming to understand your ways of doing things.

To them, no matter how cold and ruthless you may be, you’re still their savior. Their first kindness.

“Ah then maybe you’re just tired,” he says, putting his snack away into his pocket again.

“If you’re tired, you should rest, my lady.”

“Oh but maybe she doesn’t like sleeping because of the nightmares.”

“Do you get nightmares too, my lady?”

“Or maybe things are just too busy with you.”

“You’re not overworking yourself, are you?”

“What happened there?” Junho points and when you look down at your hand, you realize he caught sight of the bandages. They all pause in their questions, blinking curiously when you hold your hand up to your face, the memories of that night wanting to slip in.

“I punched glass,” you say and they all collectively gasp.

“Whoa, you’re so cool!”

“It must’ve hurt though!”

“Did it hurt? Does it hurt now?” Hyerim’s eyes follow your hand when you place it back down beside you, her lips slightly agape as she hesitates in her approach for you, fingers fidgeting just as she looks up for your reaction. When you give her no protest in her cautious approach, she takes your hand in hers, holding it gently in her tiny little ones. “I hope the pain eases soon,” she whispers sincerely as her fingers softly glide against the bandages, soothing over your knuckles.

You stare at her for the longest time, the peace in you rising as your anger and frustrations from the past few days, weeks, and months begin slowly calming from their fire.

“I hope the pain eases soon,” she says, and when the rest of the children look at you with that same hope and light flashing in their eyes, you feel a small little ache in your chest as you realize that perhaps, in some ways, the person you are to them is the same as the person Mister Butler was to you.

It hurts.

Ah, it hurts.

.

.

.

Walking along an empty road just a few blocks away from The Academy in order to clear your head, you hear the sound of a click that can only belong to a gun and stop in your steps, remaining nonchalant as you turn at the gun pointed at your head.

A man.

Two.

One with a child held against the guy behind the first one who has a gun to your head, covering the little one’s mouth so he doesn’t make a sound with a gun also to his head. You see tears streaming down his face, the kind little boy who always led the little ones to remain brave and strong in your absence, who offered you a sweet snack when they thought you were hungry.

Sunoo.

“Do anything and the boy dies,” the man before you warns and you look his way, looking bored with your hands held behind your back, simply staring without falter.

And you guess he must have sensed your lack of fear because his brows crease right before there’s a sense of relief in his eyes when you feel a few more presence just behind you.

“Hello there, buttercup. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

You physically freeze in place.

Buttercup.

There is only one person in this world who has ever constantly called you buttercup and that person is,

“Lady Nari,” the man who holds you at gunpoint greets, and both the two men’s heads fall into a bow, though they don’t forget to keep their eyes on both you and Sunoo.

You hear her heels click when she walks over, feel her close behind you as you take in a deep breath, closing your eyes when you feel her hand on your shoulder.

You’re surrounded and one move will mean Sunoo’s life.

“Now then,” she says, “why don’t you throw away anything that will have your people track you down easily, hm?” She asks, her lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Unless you want the boy to die?”

Nari knows how much power she holds over you right now and that is an expression you’re far too familiar with. A spoiled little girl who grew up with a loving father who only knew to give his daughter everything she wanted. Just how many years has it been since you’ve last seen her?

None of your Reapers, not even Yuna knows that she’s one of the people who’s done you wrong, and perhaps even Nari understands this situation, which makes her all the more powerful. Who would suspect her when you’re so great at keeping your lips sealed?

You rid of your earrings, tug your necklace off, and throw any weapon on you onto the ground, all the while keeping your eyes on the woman before you, knowing there is nothing that can be done. Not unless you want Sunoo to die.

“What a good girl you are, buttercup,” she grins with brightness, “you’ve always been such a good girl, haven’t you? Though inspection is of course still needed. If anything else is found on you, you’ll receive a nice little punishment, just the way bad girls are supposed to get.”

Nari takes a few steps back, signaling to her men.

“Search her.”

Your back straightens like a tall pole as you hold your breath back while you let your eyes flutter close, trying to manipulate your body into believing the hands that fall onto you aren’t anyone threatening, that you’re okay, that you’ll be okay.

If you give Nari even the slightest bit of weakness to hold against you, you’ll end up worst than what will happen to you now so you keep still, not resisting, not doing anything, as you hear struggles from a few inches away.

“Don’t struggle,” you tell him, meeting the little boy’s eyes straight on as you allow your focus to fall on him and him alone. You try to imagine the peace he gives you, the conversations you had with the little ones just a few minutes ago as your breath threatens to give out but you hold yourself steady, watching him intently because it’s the only thing you can do.

You’ve asked Mingyu to return to the manor, he’s not here right now, and the only person here on your side is a little boy who looks up to you and sees you as his hero, his savior. He’s the only one you can rely on now in order to help you catch your breath, in order to allow you a moment to breathe again.

So you focus on Sunoo and Sunoo alone, and as if he can feel your sense of panic and how he holds some power over being that person to ground you down, Sunoo stops struggling against the man, eyes meeting you straight on.

Don’t be afraid, you wish to say and the message conveys to him when he focuses on his own breathing, trying to look as brave as he possibly can with your eyes solely on him and him alone.

When the search ends, you feel something hit you hard in the head and then the world falls pitch black.