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ghoularaki · 1 year ago

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baby's breath | 4

↠ summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 3,068

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, noncon/dubcon, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, death threats, human trafficking, bdsm

The twinkling fairy lights were your only source of illumination in the otherwise dark room. After Erwin shut off the lights and left you to your own devices, you sat in the silence for who knows how long. Anxiety had your muscles twitching, antsy to do anything.

Blowing air out your nose, saliva dripped down the corners of your mouth from the gag. You didn’t care if it added more to whatever pain Levi promised, you reached behind you and fiddled with the belt. Your fingers caught on the tongue and pushed it forward until the gag loosened. Clutching onto the leather you ripped it away from your mouth. Stretching your jaw side to side, you tried to alleviate the soreness. Wiping the spit from your lips, you surveyed the crate.

Both men weren’t stupid and the crate was given a different lock so you couldn’t easily slide it open. Even then, only your fingers could make it through the wiring. Forgoing the order the stuffed animals were arranged in, you rifled through them to find something, anything, to pick the lock with. Your attempts were futile.

Desperation crawled at your throat. Twisting your body so you were leaning on your forearms, you used your heel to kick at the door. The door rattled, but besides that, did not budge. Erwin was sure to hear the noise, but chose to ignore you. It could have been hours since Levi left and Erwin quite literally kept you in the dark, so the need to escape grew. Levi’s threat still rang in your ears.

You weren’t going to go with your belly up.

Frustrated, you used both feet to kick the door. Grunts left your throat from the strain. You were quickly becoming exhausted. The toxin hadn’t completely left you and it has been days since you ate something. Your energy was depleting.

Tears pricked your eyes again. Anger at yourself consumed you as you screamed and kicked the door one last time. Fragile flesh was nothing against metal. Bruises started to form at the bottom of your feet. The room was quiet besides your stuttered breathing.

Giving up on escaping the crate, you looked around the rest of the room. A soft, yellowish glow spread through the space. Shadows that crept from the corners offered you little insight to what all the room had to offer. Squinting, you tried to make out if there were any vents you could possibly climb through. You found nothing.

There were the windows, but who knows if they could even unlock and the strength of the glass. If all the windows were bulletproof, you were screwed. The crate was placed too far from the window for you to even try to get to the locks.

Sitting on your knees, you look up at the canopy placed above the cage. The pink netted cloth was attached to the ceiling by a screwed in hook.

Bingo.

Just as you were about the slip your finger back through the wiring to tug on the canopy, you heard the front door open and slam shut followed by two hushed voices. Levi’s back home.

That anxiety came back tenfold. You were basically served to Levi on a silver platter. A part of you wanted to go back to your plan with the canopy, but time was limited and you rather not be caught trying to escape. Who knows what Levi was going to do right now, let alone with an escape attempt on top of it.

So you laid in wait. Waiting for the man to burst through the frame and get his revenge. God did you wish there was a clock in the room. The anticipation was getting to you and maybe that is exactly what he wanted. For you to torture yourself with hypotheticals.

You knew both men were still inside the house, their footsteps giving it away. From what you assumed, they were sticking to the kitchen, possibly making dinner. At the thought, your stomach rumbled.

As if he heard you, Erwin came into the room and flicked on the lights. Your pupils constricted. His form permeated through the space and suffocated you. Forced into a small cage only furthered his large stature. He walked further in. His face became more apparent the closer he got and that expression of disappointment was long gone.

Cold. The best word to describe Erwin would be cold. Not in the literal sense, but all the warmth had been drained from him like coffee left out for too long. You could still drink it, but any pleasantness evaporated. A blank slate stuck on his face.

His socked feet thundered towards you. No matter how much he tried, Erwin was not a man who could soften his steps. But he didn’t care: you weren’t a frail, feral animal to him. More likened to a misbehaving child.

Crouching down at the crate door, he still had a height advantage. The glare didn’t leave your face. Erwin wasn’t swayed.

“I see you took off the gag.”

You didn’t respond. You refused to give him what he wanted.

Erwin merely sighed. “The more you resist, the harder it will be for you.”

Of course he didn’t have an ounce of regret in him. In his eyes, he did what he had to protect you for the sake of his own ego. Knowing his attempts to reach a hand out for you would be disregarded, he unlocked the crate with a key. This one was smaller compared to the ones to the doors.

You forced yourself further into the crate. As much as you despised being in the small space, the knowledge Levi was waiting for you was worse. Having none of your stubborn behavior, Erwin gripped your wrist and tugged.

A grunt left you as you collapsed in front of him. With one hand on the floor and kneeling in front of him, you scowled from under your brows. He tugged you closer until you were nose to nose.

“For your own sake, behave.”

A part of you was tempted to bite him as well, but you knew you would surely be found in a landfill if you did. Keeping your teeth and words to yourself, you gave him a small nod.

Pulling himself up, Erwin didn’t let you go. His hand moved from your wrist to your nape. Softly, he massaged the tight area, but it offered no solace. You knew full well his hand was a temporary leash. A warning.

Your whole being shook. The want to beg and plead crawled up your esophagus. Maybe to tug on his heart strings and his need to protect you, convince him to shield you from the big bad wolf that is Levi, but it’s futile. You knew that well as whatever relationship those two had trumped Erwin’s rationality.

So like a lamb to the slaughter, you were dragged into the dining room. Sat at the right side of the table was Levi in all his glory. His face gave nothing away. On the table was an array of food, the plates and cutlery set picture perfectly.

“Where’s her gag?” Levi said. You looked down to see his hand was neatly wrapped.

“How do you expect her to eat with a gag on?” Erwin teased Levi, but the man found no amusement in the statement.

He clicked his tongue at that. Erwin was right, even though the darker part of Levi wanted you to starve.

Coming closer to the table, you noticed there were only two plates. Your brows furrowed in confusion. How were you expected to eat? Though your question was quickly answered when Erwin pulled the chair to the side. The metal plate on the floor, there was already a pair of handcuffs linked in the semi-circle welded into the steel.

Erwin’s hand drifted to your shoulder and pushed you onto the floor. Your knees cracked against the hardwood.

“What are you doing?” Panic caused your voice to pitch and crack.

Levi answered instead of Erwin, “Since you wanted to act like a shitty mutt, you will be treated as such until you can prove otherwise.”

The large man bent down with you under the table to lock you into the restraints. You attempted to pull your wrist from his grasp, but it did little. The cuffs were luckily padded and didn’t bite into your skin. With your still free hand you pushed against Erwin, but he easily grabbed it and threaded the leather until you were immobile.

“What the fuck!”

At both men’s feet, you were forced into a kneeling position. Your wrists were chained to the floor with about three inches of leeway. So no matter how much you tried to sit up straight, you could only hunch over. The plate faced the head of the table, but you could twist your body slightly away.

Testing the constraints, you tugged and tugged. Metal scraping together filled the room along with your labored breaths. Erwin hauled himself from the table. Back on his feet, you heard him rummaging through something and a wet slop of food being plopped on a dish. Water filling a container could also be heard.

Erwin popped back into view but this time with two metal bowls. One of them had rice with steamed vegetables, and the other had water. He placed them in front of you. He must be joking.

Your jaw ticked as you grinded your teeth together, “What the fuck is this.”

“Your food. Eat.”

The way the food was placed, you couldn’t kick it away from you like you wanted. “I’m not fucking eating like this!”

A whimper filled the room as Levi kicked you in the ribs. From your place, you couldn’t see his face. “Quit your yapping. Either eat or don’t, but if you starve it’s not our problem.”

Erwin offered nothing to Levi’s harsh words. Stewing in your own humiliation and anger, you heard both men pick up their forks and start eating. From your place you could smell their food which had an array of seasoning. Staring down at your own bowl, you glowered bitterly at your plain dinner.

Your stomach rumbled again reminding you of the neglected organ. Nausea wanted to creep up so with quivering lips you bent over to eat out of the bowl. Breathing shakingly out your nose, you ignored how your eyes stung. You were so sick of crying. Luckily, both men couldn’t see you make a fool of yourself.

Moving your head over, you stuck your tongue out to lap up the water. It would be more efficient to pucker your lips and suck it up, but the thought of them hearing the slurping noises was too much to handle. So in your own head, it took you a little too long to realize the socked foot brushing against your thigh.

Jumping, you departed from your food to watch Levi’s foot creep closer up your leg. You attempted to squirm away but he quickly used his other foot to press into your hip, immobilizing you completely. Watching in horror, he kept up with the movements.

“How’s the project going?” Levi asked, Erwin none the wiser to what was going on under the table. Of course they were going to talk about school now. Possibly to mock you.

There was silence, before the other man answered. “Not as smoothly as we would like. Some of the girls aren’t taking too kindly to the change.”

Huh?

“Reminds me of someone.”

Erwin chortled before covering it with a cough. You would have said something if it weren’t for Levi growing more bold. To dig in his words, the heel of his foot found your crotch. You smothered your groaned when he rubbed against your clothed slit.

Your food was long forgotten, barely half eaten. Dragging further up, his heel caught your clit and you weren’t able to bite back the whimper this time.

“Hush,” Levi commanded.

“As I was saying, our cargo hasn’t been as big as last month. Eld has been able to wrangle some girls into place, but who knows how long that will last.”

Levi clicked his tongue, “I will visit this weekend.”

Rubbing further, Levi didn’t slow down his strokes as you strangled to keep your noises in. Helplessness filled you. Any time you attempted to squirm away, he followed. There was only so much you could move in the constraints.

Wetness started to soak your panties and thin pajamas. Levi could surely feel it through his own sock. Unwillingly you bucked at his leisure pace. He didn’t want you to cum that’s for sure. This was to purely torment you.

Erwin spoke after another bite, “Let’s hope there won’t be a repeat of last time.”

“I agree. I fucking hate cleaning blood out of clothes. Shit always stains.”

You shivered at the words. He must have felt it as he pressed harder into your clit. You were completely pinned down. Despite the little stimulation, the want to cum washed over you. Another whine stuck in your throat. All you needed was a little bit more.

Right when you almost fell into him, Levi pulled away. Your hips spasmed at the lack of stimulation. Clenching your eyes closed, you slumped over and your forehead hit the cold floor. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“I can clean it up.” Levi spoke, a little more far away. He must have stood up.

“Are you sure?” Erwin asked, the floorboards creaked as he went to Levi. Mostly to take the plate from his grasp.

“Yes. Take her back to the crate.”

Plates clacked together above you and Erwin came back in view. Embarrassed, you clenched your thighs closed in fear a wet patch could be shown.

“You barely ate.”

“Not hungry,” You mumbled.

His thick brows pinched together, but he didn’t respond as he released you from the leather restraints. Grasping your upper arm, he tugged you from your kneeling position. Shuffling from under the table, you faced Erwin. That antsy feeling hasn’t left you. Levi half-hazardly stroking you under the table couldn’t be what he had in store.

Turning your head, you gazed at Levi who stood at the sink, flipping the faucet to run the plates under the water. The man locked eyes with you and your shoulders scrunched up at the intense glare. A promise deep in his grey irises.

Erwin directed you away from the man. Down the hall, you looked into the window in the corridor. Twilight swallowed the sky. Between the foliage, you saw how the neighbors flicked on their own lights. The home was a speck in the distance, but their lights radiated. If you saw them, they could see you.

A plan forming in your head, you go almost limp as you let Erwin drag you back to your prison. The man didn’t think much of your sluggish behavior as he shoved you in the crate. A tiny, gold key—the same as before—taken from his pocket, he locked you inside.

“I hate putting you in here.” He had the audacity to look worn.

“Then let me out.”

His forehead hit against the crate as his blue eyes engulfed your form. “We both know I can’t do that.” He lingered for a moment, before standing back up. “Goodnight, Princess.”

Just as earlier today, he flicked off the lights and left you alone. Back to square one. At least you weren’t wearing the damn gag. Glancing down, the offending item was gone. You were perplexed. When did they grab it?

Heaviness weighed down your bones. Yawning, you curled up into the stuffed animals. As a strange sleepiness took over your tendons, you gazed up at the canopy. The golden hook taunted you, but you needed to be patient. Eyelids drooping, you promised yourself to escape as soon as possible.

A door creaking awoke you from your slumber. Discombobulated, you blearily glanced around. You were still in the crate. Blinking heavily, the whole room was shrouded with black. But that’s not what caught your attention.

Oh so sluggish, your eyes dragged to the door. The hallway light must have been turned on. Standing in the doorway was a figure blanketed in shadow. You sucked in harshly.

Your heart quivered and thumped at the innate reaction of being watched. From the stature alone it had to be Levi. Though, you couldn’t see his features at all. Somehow in the night, the fairy lights had turned off.

Levi didn’t move, not even when you noticed his presence. Weakly, you moved further into the crate, but it did little. Your body was at war with itself. That same heaviness still clung to your bones, but your heart rattled.

You struggled against yourself, terrified of what will happen if you fall back asleep. Dragging your hand to your face, you rubbed your eyes in hopes to alleviate your tiredness. Levi only stood there. As you crumpled in on yourself, he leaned against the frame, as if to take you all in.

He did love seeing you squirm.

The edges of your consciousness whittled away until the whole room swirled. Fighting against the sleepiness made you dizzy. Your vision swimmed. Sinking down, Levi stayed stagnant.

Whimpering, you sagged back into the stuffed animals. Their suffocating arms consumed you. Cotton and fluff choked you as you were dragged back to sleep. As the world caved in on itself, Levi didn’t leave the doorway. Watching.

Gasping, you sputtered as freezing cold water entered your lungs. Your body spasmed as you scrambled to find your footing. You went to wipe the water from your eyes, but you couldn’t move your arms.

You tugged upwards, but your arms were tied tight behind your back. Your legs were also bound at the ankle with leather cuffs similar to the ones in the kitchen. From under you was concrete painted a darker shade of grey from the water. Blinking, the sun blared down at your confused eyes.

Frantically you looked around to see Levi standing above your form. On your side, you tugged yourself to kneel to be less vulnerable. In his hand was a hose. Droplets dripped onto the grass. You eyed the hose and then him. Adrenaline had overtaken your system, shaking from terror and the cold.

“You really think I was done with you, Pet?”

#yandere x reader #yandere levi #yandere erwin #yandere levi x reader #levi x reader #erwin x reader #yandere #yandere aot #aot smut #yandere male

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thewitcheslibrary · 10 months ago

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Herb Correspondences and spell work ingredients!!

tip me!

A-B

Acacia: Protection, mental and spiritual development, money, platonic love, and friendship. Used to anoint candles and censers, as well as to consecrate chests or boxes containing ritual implements. Use incense to induce a contemplative mood. Aconite: Use aconite as a magical wash for ritual equipment and spaces. Wear as an amulet to protect against vampires and werewolves. Poisonous; do not ingest. Acorn: Best wishes, protection, knowledge, and personal strength. A dried acorn makes a great natural amulet for maintaining a young appearance. Adam and Eve Root: The Eve Root is mostly utilised by lovers, with one partner carrying it and the other carrying the Adam root. This keeps your sweetheart loyal to you and discourages rivals. Carry both roots in a tiny purse at all times to attract love or make a marriage proposal. Adder’s Tongue: Stops gossip and slander, promoting healing. Sacred to snake goddesses. Used for divination, healing magick, moon magick, and dream magic.

African Violet: Spirituality, protection, and healing. Wear an amulet for protection. Keep in the house to boost spirituality. Frequently used as incense during the Spring Equinox Sabbat. Agar Agar: Encourage joy and prosperity, and draw opportunities and benefits into the home. Mix with Fast Luck powder and apply to hands before playing bingo or other games of chance. Agrimony: Overcoming fear and inner obstacles; releasing negative emotions. Also used to reverse spells. For the greatest benefits, sew into a dream cushion using Mugwort. Use as a wash or oil to boost the effectiveness of any type of healing ritual. Protects against bad creatures and toxins. Ague: Protection and Hex Breaking. Used in amulets to ward off evil. Mix with incense and burn to break a hex put on you. Also known as: ague root, ague weed.

Alder: Linked to divination, music, poetry, wind magick, weather magick, teaching, and decision-making. Also used in rites of death and dying to protect the deceased. Alfalfa: Money, wealth, and anti-hunger. Keep a tiny jar in the cabinet or pantry to guard off poverty and hunger. Burn in a cauldron and use the ashes as amulets to guard against hunger and poverty. Also called Lucerne, Buffalo Herb, Purple Medic.

Alkanet: Purification and prosperity. Protects against snake bites and reduces fear of snakes. Burned as incense to replace negativity with positive energy. Also called: Anchusa, Dyer's Bugloss, Orchanet, and Spanish Bugloss.

Allspice: Money, luck, healing, and acquiring treasure. Adds resolve and vigour to any spell or charm. Burn crushed allspice to bring good fortune and money. Use in herbal baths to promote healing. Also called: Jamaica Pepper.

Almond: Wisdom, money, abundance, and success. Invokes the healing energies of the gods. Offers magical assistance for overcoming dependencies and addictions. Associated with Candlemas and Beltane. Carry, wear, or burn as incense to attract abundance. Also called Greek Nuts, Shakad.

Aloe: Protection and luck. Place on a loved one's grave to bring peace. Thought to alleviate loneliness and promote achievement. Hang in the home to bring luck and protection to the people who dwell there. Grow in the home to prevent against domestic mishaps. Burn during the night of a full moon to attract a new lover on the new moon.

Althea Root: Burn or throw in a sachet to provide protection, soothe an angry person, and boost psychic abilities. Keep on the altar or light candles to invite good spirits. Alyssum: Protection and moderation of rage. Amaranth: Healing, calling spirits, mending broken hearts, bulletproofing, and becoming invisible.

Amber: Protection from damage, outside forces, and psychic attacks. Mental clarity and focus. Transforming negative energy into positive energy. Ambergris: Improving dreams and psychic enterprises, attracting men. Anemone: Healing and Protection

Angelica: Very potent protection herb - repels negative energy while attracting positive energy; forms a barrier to bad energy. Use in healing and exorcism incenses, or scatter for cleansing, protection, and uncrossing. Add to incense to aid healing, or use in the bath to erase curses, hexes, and spells. Also supposed to encourage temperance. Sprinkle ground herb in your shoes to avoid fatigue and weakness. Sprinkle around the exterior border of the house to guard and exorcise. Burn to reunite with a long-lost sweetheart. Also known as: Masterwort, Archangel, Garden Angel, Angelica Root.

Anise: Used to fend off the evil eye, provide happiness, and boost psychic abilities. To avoid unsettling nightmares, fill a sleep pillow with anise seeds. Use to invoke Mercury and Apollo. Perfect for aromatherapy. Use in purifying baths alongside bay leaves. A branch of Anise placed on the bedpost can restore lost youth. Use for protection and meditation incenses. Also called: Aniseed, Anneys, and Anise Seed.

Apple: Love, Garden Magic, Immortality, Friendship, and Healing. Put seven apple seeds in a bag with Orris Root to entice sexual love. Used in ceremonies to honour fertility gods and goddesses. Samhain is known as the 'Feast of Apples' because apples are believed to be the nourishment of the dead. Symbolises the soul and is burnt on Samhain to honour individuals who will be reborn in the spring. When performing a house blessing, cut an apple in half and consume half while leaving the other half outside the residence as an offering. Also known as: Fruit of the Underworld, Fruit of the Gods, Silver Branch, Tree of Love.

Apricot: Love. To attract love, use love sachets with leaves and flowers or carry apricot pits. Arabic Gum: Protection, psychic and spiritual development, money, platonic love, and friendship. Used to anoint candles and censers, as well as to consecrate chests or boxes containing ritual implements. Use incense to induce a contemplative mood. Also called: Acacia, Gum. Arabic Arnica Flowers Increases psychic abilities. Arrow Root: purifies and heals; it may be used instead of cemetery dust.

Ash: Sea spells/magick/rituals, image magick, invincibility, drowning prevention, general protection, and luck. Burning an ash log during Yule promotes wealth. The leaf of this plant is utilised to ensure trip safety. Place one spoonful of ash leaves in a basin of water in the bedroom overnight and discard in the morning; doing so everyday is supposed to prevent disease. Asofoetida: Protection and eradication of negative. Burned to make someone leave you alone. Be careful that while this plant is potent, it has an unpleasant odour when burned. Also known as: Devil's Dung, Food of the Gods.

Asparagus: Male Sex Magic Aspen's: abilities include eloquence, clairvoyance, healing, and anti-theft. Plant in your garden to deter robbers. Aster Love

Also known as: China Aster, Michaelmas Daisy, Starwort. Astragalus Root: Protection and Energy. Avocado: Love, passion, and beauty. Also used for sex magic. Also called Ahuacotl, Alligator Pear, and Persea. Azalea: Happiness, gaiety, and a light spirit, first love. Poisonous; do not ingest.

Bachelor Buttons: Love Also called Devil's Flower and Red Campion.

Bakuli pods: It is difficult to discover magic items that are also utilised in sachets and potpourri. Balm of Gilead Tears: promotes love, manifestation, protection, healing, stress reduction, and aids in the grieving process after a loved one's death. Use in love sachets to heal, protect, and restore a damaged heart. Use to dress candles for any type of magical healing. Burn to attract ghosts. Also known as: Poplar Buds, Balsam Poplar, Balm of Gilead, Mecca. Balsam, Balesan, and Bechan

BalmonyA figwort plant that is powdered and used for hexing. Perseverance, patience, and steadfastness. Associated with tortoises or turtles. Also known as: Hummingbird Tree, Bitter Herb, Snake Head, Turtle Head, Turtle Bloom.

Balsam Fir: promotes strength, insight, goal achievement, and positive transformation. Balsam fir needles may be used as incense on charcoal and are also an excellent addition in sachet bags, dream pillows, and potpourri blends. Bamboo: is associated with breaking hexagrams, wishing luck, and providing protection. Carve a desire into bamboo and bury it in a remote location to make your wish come true. Carry a piece of bamboo for good fortune.

Banana: symbolises fertility, potency, and fortune. Banyan: symbolises happiness and luck. Barberry: Cleansing, sorcery, atonement, and breaking free from another person's power or control.

Also called: Witches Sweets. Barley: Love, healing, and protection. Harvests. Spread on the ground to keep evil at bay. To relieve pain, tie barley straw around a boulder and hurl it into a river or lake while visualising whatever discomfort you are experiencing. Basil: Love, exorcism, riches, compassion, and protection. Removes uncertainties, worries, and weaknesses. Drives away harmful spirits. Associated with Candlemas. Continue to go forward in a positive manner despite the threat. Strewn on floors to guard against evil. Sprinkle an infusion of basil outside the building where you intend to work for good luck at a job interview (but don't be seen!) or throughout your business to attract money and prosperity. Wear or carry to help attract money and wealth. Also known as: Common Basil, Sweet Basil, St. Josephwort, St. Joseph's Wort, Tulsi, Tulasi, Krishnamul, Kala Tulasi, Witches' Herb, Alabahaca, American Dittany. Bat's Head Root: Use in spellwork, rituals, gris gris bags, and other ways to get wishes. Bay Laurel: Purification, blessing of homes and businesses, and clearing out uncertainty. It attracts romanticism. Keep a potted plant to protect your home from lightning. Place in a dream pillow to improve sleep and generate prophetic dreams. Also called: Bay, Sweet Laurel, Sweet Bay, True Laurel, Lorbeer, Noble Laurel, Baie, and Daphne. Bay Leaf: protection, good fortune, success, purification, strength, healing, and psychic abilities. Write your wishes on the leaves, then burn them to make them come true. Place beneath the pillow (or in a dream pillow) to generate prophetic dreams. Place in the corner of each room in the house to protect everyone who live there. Carry bay leaf to defend oneself from dark magic. Bayberry: Good luck, healing, and stress alleviation. Burn a white candle with bayberry bark for good luck and money. Also Known As: American Vegetable Tallow Tree, Myrtle, Wax Myrtle, Candleberry, Candleberry Myrtle, Tallow Shrub, American Vegetable Wax, Waxberry, Pepperidge Bush, Berbery

Bedstraw (Fragrant): Love and Lust. Bee Pollen: promotes friendship, attraction, love, strength, happiness, and helps overcome sadness.

Beech: symbolises wishes, pleasure, and divination. Improves literary talents. To promote inspiration, place a beech leaf between the pages of the Book of Shadows. Beeswax: Traditionally used in the production of candles, ornamental seals, natural polish, protective finishes, and as a foundation for herbal salves. Beetroot: Love. Beetroot juice can be utilised as ink in love magick or to replace blood in spells and rituals.

Belladonna: Healing and forgetting previous loves. When installed in a concealed location within the home, it provides protection. Place on a ceremonial altar to honour the deities and provide energy for ceremonies.

Do not consume this deadly toxin. Also known as: Banewort, Deadly Nightshade, Sorcerer's Berry, Witch's Berry, Death's Herb, Devil's Cherries, Divale, Dwale, Dwaleberry, Dwayberry, Fair Lady, Great Morel, Naughty Man's Cherries

Benzoin: Purification, prosperity, easing tension, removing anger, reducing irritability, relieving stress and anxiety, and conquering depression. Encourages generosity and attention. Good to burn while utilising the Tarot or to achieve intellectual achievement. Smoulder for cleansing. It is thought that incense containing benzoin, cinnamon, and basil will attract consumers to your company. Also Known As: Snowbells, Storax, Gum Benzoin, Siam Benzoin, Siamese Benzoin, Benzoin Gum, Ben, Benjamen.

Bergamot: Money, wealth, protection from evil and disease, memory enhancement, interference prevention, and comfortable sleep. Carry a sachet when gambling to bring luck and money. Very effective at attracting success. Burn during any ritual to boost its power. Also called: Orange Mint. Betel Nut: Protection and Banishment.

Bilberry Bark: is used for protection. Also known as Whortleberry, Black Whortles, Whinberry, Huckleberry, Bleaberry, Blueberry. Airelle Bindweed: Used for curses/hexing. Birch: symbolises protection, exorcism, and cleansing. A birch tree planted near the residence is thought to guard against lightning, infertility, and the evil eye. Also known as: White Birch, Canoe Birch, Paper Birch, Tree of Life, Lady of the Woods.

Bird's Eye chilies: Cursing, heating spells, and making Hoodoo powders like hot foot powder and goofer dust are all done with plants from the Solanaceae (nightshade) family. Bistort: Fertility, divination, clairvoyance, and psychic abilities. Carry a sachet for fertility and conception. Add to any herbal concoction to enhance divination. Burn frankincense during divination or to increase psychic abilities. Carry a yellow flannel bag to attract prosperity and good fortune. Sprinkle bistort about the house to repel poltergeists. Also known as: Bistort root, dragonwort. Black Cohosh: symbolises love, courage, protection, and power. Use as a love sachet or in the bath to avoid impotence. Carry in your pocket or as an amulet to boost your confidence and strength. Sprinkle throughout a room to ward against evil. To guarantee a long and happy life, make a herbal infusion and add it to bath water. Burn as a romantic incense. Put in a purple flannel bag to protect yourself against accidents and untimely death, as well as to prevent people from doing you wrong. Also known as Black Snake Root, Bugbane, Squawroot, Bugwort, Rattleroot, Rattleweed, Rattlesnake Root, and Richweed. Black Haw: means protection, gambling, luck, power, and employment. Carry in your pocket while looking for job, if you are experiencing troubles at work, or if you are requesting a rise. Also called: Devil's Shoestring, Stagbush, and American Sloe. Black pepper: is used to banish negativity, perform exorcisms, and defend against evil. Black Walnut: is believed to provide access to spiritual energy, granting blessings and wishes. Blackberry :symbolises health, protection, and money. Sacred to Brighid. Leaves and berries are supposed to bring riches and healing.

Blackthorn Thorns: Thorns have historically been used to curse and protect. The thorns of the Blackthorn tree have traditionally been employed in witchcraft to puncture wax or linen poppets, cursing the intended victim.

Bladderwrack: Protection, sea and wind spells, money, psychic abilities, and attracting clients. Wear a charm for protection while travelling, especially on water. Also called: Kelp, Seawrack, Kelpware, Black-tang, Cutweed, Sea Oak, and Sea Spirit. Blessed Thistle: Purification, protection from negativity and evil, hex breaking. Carry for strength and protection. Place a bowl of holy thistle in a room to boost the vigour and spirit of its people. Men who carry thistle improve their romantic relationships. Also known as: Holy thistle, Saint Benedict thistle, Spotted thistle, Cardin.

Bloodroot: symbolises love, protection, and cleansing. Steep in red wine for the full moon cycle to serve as a "blood offering" for rituals that require it; DO NOT DRINK THE WINE. Place in windows and entrances to keep curses and evil spirits away. A popular root for usage in voodoo to counteract hexes and spells cast against you. Also known as: Red Root, Red Indian Paint, Tetterwort, Blood Root, Indian Paint, Pauson, Red Paint Root, Red Puccoon, Sanguinariat. Blowball: Love and wishes. Carry a crimson bag to grant desires. When looking for love, blow in all four directions. Blue Cohosh: Empowerment, cleansing, attracting money, ending the cycle of love, and pushing away evil.

Blue Violet: Love, inspiration, good fortune, and protection from all evil. Carried to protect, enhance fortune, and shift luck. Mixed with lavender to arouse passion and affection. Worn to soothe tempers and promote sleep. Also called: Sweet Scented Violet.

Bluebell: Luck, honesty, and friendship. Incorporate into funeral and dying traditions to soothe and relieve the pain of those left behind. Also known as: Jacinth, Culverkeys, Auld Man's Bell, Ring o' Bells, Wood Bells. Blueberry: Protection. Though not encouraged, blueberries are thought to induce confusion and turmoil when thrown in an enemy's doorway or path.

Boneset: is used to protect, exorcise, and fend off bad spirits. Sprinkle boneset throughout the house to ward off evil and negativity. Burn a black candle etched with the enemy's name as incense to curse them (not recommended due to karma). Also known as Feverwort, Agueweed, Crosswort, Eupatorium, Indian Sage, Sweating Plant, Teasel, Thoroughwort, Vegetable Antimony.

Borage: symbolises courage and psychic abilities. Float the flowers in a ceremonial bath to lift one's mood. Carry or burn as incense to boost confidence and character. To fight off bad spirits, sprinkle Borage infusion about the house. Also called: Bee Bread, Starflower, Herb of Gladness, Bugloss, Burrage, and Cool Tankard. Brazil Nut: Good luck in love affairs. Brewer's yeast: is used to make face mask remedies. Brimstone: Removes or prevents a hex on you; eliminates an enemy's power over you. Burn at midnight by your back door to keep off evil. Also called: Sulphur Powder.

Broom Tops: For purification, wind spells, divination, and protection. Sprinkle broom tops about the house to ward against evil. Also Known As: Irish Broom, Scotch Broom, Besom, Broom. Buchu :represents divination, wind magic, psychic abilities, and prophetic dreams. Add buchu leaves to the bath to help you predict the future. Also known as Bucco, Agathosma Betulina, Bookoo, Bucku, Buku, and Bucco.

Buckeye: Divination, good luck, and the attraction of money and fortune. Carried whole, anointed with money oil, and/or wrapped in a dollar bill, for a consistent increase in money flow. A famous hoodoo charm among gamblers. Carry in your pocket to prevent against arthritis. Also called: Horse Chestnut.

Buckthorn: Sorcery, elven magic, and dispelling enchantments. It is used as a luck generator in legal problems and to win in court. Place Buckthorn branches near doors or windows to ward off evil and negative vibes. To create a wish, stand in an open place facing east and concentrate on your request; then turn to your left until you are facing east again, sprinkling buckthorn bark powder (or an infusion including buckthorn bark) as you go. Also called: Arrowwood, Black Dogwood, Black Alder Dogwood, Black Alder Tree, and Persian Berries.

Buckwheat: Money, protection, and fasting. Use charms and rituals to get treasure, riches, and fortune. BurdockUsed for cleaning magick when feeling really bad about oneself or others. Use in protective incenses and spells. Rinse with a burdock decoction to relieve negative sentiments about yourself or others. Also known as: Bardana, Burr Seed, Clotbur, Cocklebur, Hardock, Hareburr, Hurrburr, Turkey Burrseed, Fox's Clote, Happy Major, Lappa, Love Leaves, Personata, Beggar's Buttons

Burnet: Used for protection, ritual instrument consecration, and counter magick, as well as to heal despair and despondency. Also called: Italian Pimpernel, Salad Burnet, and Greater Burnet.

Butchers' Broom: Wind spells, divinations, protection, and psychic abilities. Butterbur: is used for love divination and to boost spirits via optimism and trust. Also called: Bog rhubarb, butterdock, umbrella plant, lagwort, and sweet coltsfoot.

tip me!

#pagan witch #witch #witchblr #witchcore #witchcraft #beginner witch friendly #plants and herbs #herbs #spell ingredients

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x-heesy · 1 year ago

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𝗣𝗛𝗨𝗖𝗞 𝗬𝗘𝝠𝗛: 𝗩𝗜𝗦𝗨𝝠𝗟𝗭

In short, we came this far today.

Years around our necks, arms in hand, journal

It's hard not to go crazy

At least give it a break, life.

No one will get out of you alive anyway.

Viruses on one side, croupiers on the other

If you pull the plug on yourself, the price will be paid to those left behind.

Captain, I'll get off at the nearest trash can.

Don't shake me too much, I'll spill

My mental balance is jelly-like

Everyone is happy with their situation except us all

Homeland nation chaos

Hang flags around your neck

Wedding venue or murder scene?

Let's go bingo

Bombard the mountains I trust with paranoia

Holes appeared vest bulletproof jacket

Zaiyat means essential life, waiting for death

Like a ballpoint pen, we will never run out

Breathe at the wheel

destination center

I'm in prison

I dug a solution, I'm in the tunnel

My home is ruined, my dreams are ruined

If a thief enters, he will run away

I'm out of depression, I'm in emptiness

No matter how far I go, I'm always at the beginning

One moment in the sky, the next moment in the ground

I don't have any taste even when it exists

@frenchpsychiatrymuderedmycnut 🫶🏽

Depresyondan Çiktim Boşluktayim (I'm Out of Depression, I'm In Emptiness) by Lalalar ❤️‍🔥

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somesortofitalianroast · 1 year ago

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In Metropolis, even the mild-mannered reporters are bulletproof

Title: In Metropolis, even the mild-mannered reporters are bulletproof Link: AO3 Series: The Adventures of (Darcy) Lewis and Clark (Kent) Participant: SomeSortofItalianRoast Square filled: -Bucky Barnes Bingo: K5: Guns (card B023) Archive warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Rating: Teen Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Clark Kent Tags: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, DC Comics References, Assassins & Hitmen, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, much funnier than tags implied, Assassination Attempt(s) Word Count: 1,147 Summary: After finally convincing Clark to join her at Avengers Tower in New York, Darcy learns about one of Bucky’s oddest assassination attempts when he was the Winter Soldier.

Or, Clark Kent has a tendency to eat bullets.

@buckybarnesbingo

#my writing #bucky barnes bingo #bucky barnes #darcy lewis #clark kent #superman

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jamietarttsnorthernattitude · 1 year ago

Note

You have accomplished so much and written so many words and put out such a variety of fics for the fandom this year that YOU should do an end of year wrap up!

How many stories did you post?

Which ones were your favorites?

Which one was the most satisfying to write?

The most difficult?

Rec something that you're proud of.

Wow us with whatever big thing you might want to work on next!

Show us that word count stat!

You should be very, very proud of you. I certainly am <3

Ahhhhh FRIEND you are so nice to me! Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Any excuse to talk about my fics :)))))))))))))

1. How many stories did you post? I posted 38 stories!

2. Which ones were your favorites? That's like picking a favorite child! But if I haddddddd to: no thing's so sure that i can't learn to doubt it (aka Jamie is hurt during the Zava period and hides it. It does not go well), in the morning i'm bulletproof (Rupert has Jamie taken out BEFORE the final match of the season) and The Inevitability of James Tartt (Man City introspective).

3. Which one was the most satisfying to write? I don't know if it's one specific story. It was extremely satisfying to write some of the conversations between Jamie and the coaching staff in no thing's so sure that i can't learn to doubt it. And I have a few different post Mom City convos between Jamie and Ted that were satisfying. Mostly I love writing anything where people tell Jamie he's a good lad (after I put him through the ringer).

4. The most difficult? when i told you i was fine you were lied to. Someone requested some Roy whump, so I tried to give him an appendicitis. I had a longer version, but then I was driving home from another state on Friday the 13th, and my brain latched onto the idea of writing something spooky, so I kind of combined that and the comfort at the end got changed. The final product is kind of all over the place. I'm not happy with the ultimate story, but I got caught up with posting each day with whumptober, and it being Friday the 13th. I just ran out of time. I also blame the fact that I was on day 2 of one of my top 5 worst hangovers, stressed about finishing whumptober and knew I had plans or work literally every day the rest of the month. Maybe someday I’ll rewrite it when I can give it my full attention.

5. Rec something that you're proud of. I'm proud of all the fics I managed for whumptober (24!). Even though I'm still working on the final two days, I'll have done at least a chapter for each prompt once I’m finished.

6. Wow us with whatever big thing you might want to work on next! I do have a bad things happen bingo board that I want to work on, plus all the WIPs I have filling my Google Docs folder.

7. Show us that word count stat! My word count is 275,415 (I delayed answering these until I posted two new chapters of not to me, not if it's you haha)! BUT, my third fic is an extended, canon-compliant version of my first fic. The first one was 22K words, so a lot of those were adjusted slightly for the third fic, so really, it's more like 253K.

AND because this was so fun! I think it should be a tag game. So I'm tagging you @jamiesfootball to answer the same questions, as well as @sighonaraa and @fanficfanattic and anyone else that wants to play but as usual zero pressure <3

#ask box is always open #2023 #2023 ao3 asks #writing things #writing stuff #thank you thank you thank you my friend #this really made my day #seriously #thank you love you <3 #ted lasso fanfic

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bourbon-ontherocks · 2 years ago

Photo

And it’s a wrap for tonight! Time to see how many boxes we checked with tonight’s episode!!!!

One case involves someone Morgane knows. duh, her boss got killed!

Morgane cries and/or gets wasted. Both. Both is good. Barely fifteen minutes in. No comment. 😭

Pet-involving shenanigans. Dogs. Way too many dogs this ep

Ludo does something utterly adorable. What’s more adorable than humoring your ex by indulging in family spies activity on your work hours? This man is a GEM 😘

A new character joins the team. Bleugh

Gilles x Daphné awkward flirting. Who thought that a bullet on a bulletproof jacket could do so much, huh? 😏

Something about oral hygiene. The background case that clearly nobody cared about was literally DENTISTS getting serial-killed, hello! 🪥

Also, Half the cases are blatantly implausible, you’re on thin ice, tonight’s cases were WILD (did you know that local newspaper casually published pictures of suicide victim’s family members on a vacation without the said victim? Cause I didn’t. Also, you’d think the police would have at least checked that the husband’s alibi added up? Contacted the airline? No? Okay. Leave it to Morgane then. The dentists killer case was bananas, and also Morgane’s arrest made close to zero sense)

See you next week for the update! My personal bet is that we’ll get a bingo by the first half of the season lol 😂

#hpi bingo #hpi season 3 #tf1 hpi #hpi #hpi tf1

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ghoste-catte · 1 year ago

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1,2,6

Thanks for asking <3

Do you have a word count goal for the upcoming year? Historically, I've written 200-300k words per year, but in 2023 for a variety of reasons, I fell way short of that. I felt (still feel tbh) a little bummed about that, but this year I'm hoping to focus less on raw word count and more on finishing things! I'd love for this to be the year that I get all or most of my WIPs complete - there's like 4 or 5 of them hanging out there, and I don't love that feeling.

2. Will you participate in any fandom exchanges or fic challenges, etc? For sure! I love fandom events, both participating and running. I've already signed up for a couple of bingos: Sweet and Spicy Bingo: Winter Edition, Winter Wonderland Bingo, and Sweetheart Bingo. And I've signed up for the Bulletproof exchange and Candy Hearts. I'll also definitely keep doing the monthly "picture's worth 1k words" and 60-minute sprint challenges from @ficwip, because I feel like those have really helped me write things that are short and fun.

As for GaaLee events, I do have a couple of ideas knocking around in the back of my mind. The one I most want to run is a Non-Traditional Transformative Works fest, where people would create anything except for drawn/painted/digital art or fic. So the idea would be for folks to do things like podfic, playlists, icon sets, moodboards, filk, papercuts, crochet, poetry - you name it! I like the idea of spotlighting the many talents that our fandom has outside of the traditional!

6. Which yet-to-be-started fic is first on your list?

Oh, god, I have so many of these. In terms of things that I've genuinely written 0% of, there's a time loop fic that @arecu21 and I have kicked around ideas for, doing another collab. I'd like to actually crack on writing it, though I'm nervous because I've never written time loops (or any kind of time travel) before! I've done some reading and research, but I feel like I need to get a better sense for the genre before I jump right in.

Fanfic asks for the new year!

#answered #Anonymous #ask meme

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amostdelectablescribbler · 2 years ago

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WIP Intro: Steel Horses and Hot Irons

As requested by @tea-and-mercury, i am writing up a wip intro for the big ‘un. 32k words deep as of writing this. Sooo:

Genre: Action

Setting: South USA, Arizona-Texas-Nevada area. The Mojave, pretty much.

Tropes: Bigass guns, physics that doesn’t really get addressed, a whole bunch of mental illness (poor Becca), romantic sideplot, big plot twist, secondary antagonist scarier than the primary.

Tag (so i can see it): #STHI (it’s gonna work a bit like a signature for me)

Imma just put the prologue and the character work i did in because it’s just that much easier.

Prologue

5 years ago, 2035, the atom bombs were dropped. First at the USA, then Afghanistan, Russia, China, most of the EU, France shone like a strobe light before the nuclear power stations finished exploding. They all fell in the face of nuclear armageddon. All that was left were craters, rubble and uranium. A few survived and began reclaiming the barren, toxic wasteland. In Utah, there was a lot of this. The Krugers, based in Arizona, were dangerous and silent assassins that disappeared into the night when they left. The Mob, the surviving criminals from the surviving prisons. The lowest of the low and barely organised. The Survivors, who can walk off just about anything and were mostly left alone by everyone else. Wandering bands of close friends also formed, finding work as hired guns.

The Motliest Crew were renowned the best. A group of 5; 3 men, 2 women, all balls-to-the-wall insane. They had no known names, only specialties. The Marksman, Rebecca Johansson “Pew.” A sniper who allegedly never missed a shot, but was very shy, anxious and probably depressed. This is to be confirmed as there are no therapists left in Arizona, or in Alberta, Canada. The Scout, aka, Sorren Clark. “Keep up, $#§/stain.” A speedster with a mouth and a shotgun, one get’s him into trouble, the other get’s him out. Not the most useful combo in Australia, but out in the wastes, invaluable. The Brawler, aka, Claudia Vander. “I’m gonna punch him.” A large frame packed with muscle and grit hailing from South Korea and California. Her fighting skills are near unmatched.

The Demolitionist, aka, Callum Henderson. “I had a dog and his name was… Bingo!” A drunk, black, tartan-clad Scotsman with a grenade launcher and a rocket launcher. And a claymore, he has a sword too. The Gunman, aka, Rasputin Romanov. “Shoot first, ask question while reloading. Spetsnaz 101.” A man of few words and a Spetsnaz soldier from Russia, with a really heavy accent and a really heavy gun.

Each of these wandering guns-for-hire wore a face mask or helmet to both obscure their identities and filter the noxious cocktail of chemicals in the air in some places. They were all armoured to various degrees with assorted run-down military kit that had been scavenged. The Gunman was clad in hulking Juggernaut military gear, the Demolitionist in assorted pads and plates, the Scout in Moto leathers and a bulletproof vest, the Brawler wore similar kit to the Scout and the Marksman was in ill-fitting, minimalist spec-ops kit. Minimalist because only a third of what they found came close to fitting her. Each suit was tailor-made (except the Marksman) by it’s wearer, each adding their own personal flourishes and decorative elements, like sketchily-woven tartan, tally marks, oil crayon, the works.

Now, the character work i did (and added):

Rasputin and Becca:

Callum, Sorren and Claudia split up to go and have fun, leaving Becca with Rasputin. They sat in the hotel room, looking at each other quizzically. Becca had curled herself up in a blanket nest across the room from Rasputin’s massive frame that was posted on a bed, leaning into the wall, staring blankly into the space between air molecules. He looked around, registered Becca’s comfort ball, cracked his back and shifted his posture to something more relaxed.

“So.”

“Mm?” Becca mumbled from her nest, poking an anxious head out into the dim light.

“Why are you hiding?”

Becca paused in thought, eyes darting from Rasputin to the floor, to the roof before finally talking, her own indecision caving to his patience.

“I’m worried.” She whispered into her blankets, “I’m worried about them.”

“Hmm. In Spetsnaz, we had a good cure for worries. We would sit and talk about worry. You want to try?”

“Mhm” she slowly heaved her miniature frame out of the blanket nest and towards Rasputin, who lay down on the bed fully, shuffling along to make space, further dwarfing Becca. She curled up next to him, heart rate going from cardio to moving. Listening to his huge heart slowed down hers, his relaxed body position relaxing hers. There was a security in being so close to something so large, like swimming with a whale.

“So. Why are you worrying, Becca?”

“I- I’m worried for Callum and Sorren and Claudia. I don’t know what might happen to them. Even if I was there with them, I would just slow them down, but I like knowing where they are so that I know they can protect me if they have to.” Rasputin’s huge bald head turned around

“I will tell you this, Becca: I have protected all of them before. I can protect you.”

“There are monsters out there than can hurt them?”

“But none them can hurt me. I am Russian. I am Spetsnaz. Nothing hurt me.” Rasputin’s gravelly, broken English was somehow comforting.

“Really?”

“Da.”

Callum:

Another cold, dark night came as the red sun plummeted below the horizon. In the town, there was a bar. A man sat alone, at the end of the bar, drinking from a flagon of foamy beer and people-watching and checking his watch, waiting. For something or someone to spur him into action. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

An hour passed and he finished his beer, ordering another from the barkeep. The night crept on fruitlessly for the man. The stream of people coming in and out slowed to a trickle as he waited in the dark bar, wooden flagon in hand, beer getting colder, patience wearing thinner. Finally, one man entered who caught his attention. A tall, burly figure with a tartan kilt and sash over his impressive armour and helmet. The man held himself proud and tall, confident in himself and his abilities, but not arrogant. He walked with a muted swagger as he progressed to the bar and made his order, shifting the claymore on his back to avoid the seat. Some whiskey or other on the rocks. He had an enormously Scottish accent and as he removed his helmet to drink, it was revealed that he wore an eyepatch and had a nasty burn scar plastered on the left side of his face, sprawling under the eyepatch and barely visible in the shadow.

The man stalked forwards silently, sitting beside the Scotsman without making a single quiet sound.

“So, is it really you?” The hooded man had a smooth, melodious voice, with a noticeable Mexican accent.

“Who’s really who?” Callum replied, unflapped by a stranger randomly appearing beside him. In the better light, the man saw belts of grenades wrapped around the scot’s waist and bulges from beneath his sash.

“You. Are you really the famous Callum Henderson? Legendary demolition man for the Motliest Crew?” The stranger’s voice somewhere between admiration and mockery.

“So tha’s what they’re callin’ us. ‘The Motliest Crew.’ ‘Bit demeaning, no?”

“Not at all. I’m a huge fan of yours. I’ve been watching your antics for a while now and i was wondering if I could get an autograph?” The strange man spoke from beneath a hood, eyes glinting red in the gloom, a crocodile grin on his face as he reached i to his poncho and coat,

“Aye, sure. Tell me where tae sign.” Callum turned to get a pen from his pocket and when he turned back around, a tattered, sun-bleached “wanted: dead or alive” poster of him was placed on the dark wooden bar. The wind whistled as the man tapped the ‘dead’ part, “Just here, please.”

“Yer a bounty hunter, eh?”

“I am. One of the best, too. The Wolf of District 13.”

“So, wolf, is this the best yeh have? Vague, indiscernible threats and uncanny looks?” Callum replied, showing no fear of the man beside him, as he downed his scotch, putting a 5€$ bill beneath the glass. The Wolf chuckled for a second, before going dangerously calm, retreating into the dimly lit bar and drawing himself up to his full, enormous height.

Cybernetics whirred to life from beneath the wolf’s poncho and hood, as his eyes glowed red and a hiss of steam whistled from his elbows. Callum stood, grabbing his sword, “So this is how yeh wannae do this?”

“Yes.” Hissed the wolf, as his mechanical legs grew a third joint, making them look like the legs of a wolf, lean and strong and good for chasing. Callum stood, taking the poster to inspect it. He looked for a while, put it on the bar, signed it, pocketed his pen and walked out of the bar. The Wolf lowered his guard in disbelief, hunching back over to examine the wanted poster. He had circled “Dead” and signed it at the bottom. The wolf finished his beer and sulked off into the night, after paying his tab.

Claudia:

The Wolf of District Seven stalked down the back alleys of the Last City, following the cheering to a dingy looking warehouse with lights and shouts coming from within. Loud, aggressive music blasted from huge speakers, the bass shaking the walls. The Wolf entered the building by walking through the front door guarded by bouncers without being noticed at all. In the centre of the building, a ring had been made, inside of which, there were two fighters. One was a large man with massive arms and cybernetic reinforcements on his elbows and shoulders and he wore brass knuckles on his ham-fists and a metal plate on his jaw. The other fighter -the Brawler- was a smaller woman with broad shoulders and strong, lean arms. Claudia was still tall, but this other fighter was massive, yet her confident stance, and side-guard indicated extreme proficiency in her trade. The large man wore brass knuckles, she wore steel boxing gloves haphazardly manufactured from scrap sheet-metal and cast-iron.

The man brought a standard boxing guard up and his opponent steadied herself before bouncing on her toes. The large man angled himself to his opponent and swung a huge haymaker which was caught by the woman, pinned to her side and she started slamming him with crushing blows to the liver and ribs. Each blow made a cracking and a clanging as steel smashed bone. With one final powerful uppercut, she released the mans arm and slammed him in the chin, knocking him unconscious before he hit the cold stone floor.

The Wolf came through the crowd without detection or suspicion of a tall, hunched figure in a black poncho and hood hiding the figure’s face. She called into the crowd, “Who’s next? C’mon, dude! It said fight ring on the poster, not warm-up gym!” The Wolf took his chance and approached Claudia, weaving through the crowd, “I will fight you, if nobody else wants to, that is.” The Brawler looked at her new opponent, weighing up the fighting skills of this strange hooded figure, “Bring it, big dude!” she tapped her chin with her glove, taunting the Wolf. “You know, I’m a big fan of you and your crew, Brawler. Before we start, can I please get an autograph?” The Wolf asked, crocodile grin spreading beneath his hood, red eyes catching the light as he withdrew a pen and wanted poster from the folds of his poncho. His metal limbs glinted in the spotlight, clawed steel fingers on full display. He handed her the pen, “Just here please.” He tapped under ‘DEAD’ in ‘Dead or alive.’

Claudia signed the poster in pen before she realised what it was, stepping back as she realised, “Trying to bring in the reward money?”

“Have to make a living somehow. It’s not personal.” The Wolf removed his black poncho to reveal a body made mostly of metal and machine parts. Steam hissed in the shining pistons operating the Wolf’s arms and legs. Guards were raised and it began.

The Wolf dropped low, correctly anticipating a jab to the face, claws grating on the cold stone floor. “Slow.” He cackled with glee, swerving past a knee aimed to the gut and sweeping the supporting leg from below her. “Sloppy.” He taunted from behind Claudia as she got up and readied herself to fight properly. He took the next punch that came for him, a misdirect left hook into an elbow to the chin and a slam to the ribs. Both massive blows made a sickening clunk as metal was slammed together violently. “Weak.” Growled the Wolf, as steam hissed. Before she could process it, the Wolf’s metal fist was an inch before her face, and promptly slamming hard into said face, pushing her backwards. The next blow came before she was done staggering. A monstrously powerful ridgehand to the lower back, snapping the Brawler back up, only to take a huge uppercut to the liver and a sweeping kick to the back of the knee, bringing her down into a spinning back kick. She was out before she hit the floor. The Wolf drew his clawed hand into a stabbing blade, winding up to deliver the killing blow, before the referee stepped in, stopping the fight. “That’s enough. You’ve beaten her, prize ‘s in the pot.”

“Fine. I’ll take your bribe, but that doesn’t pull her bounty off the board.” The Wolf growled, cursing under his breath as he left the dingy arena.

and finally, Sorren:

The Wolf of District 13 sat at the end of another bar with another mug of beer. The MotoGP was on the TV, engines roaring through the abused speakers. One man sat watching, he had a beer in his gloved hand and a confidence in his demeanour. “I know you’re there, mate. I’ll get to you when Ducati finish this lap in first.” The Scout waved a hand in the Wolf’s direction, before retreating it and sipping on a gin. The Wolf stared in awe and bitterness at the scout’s arrogance, he had never been dismissed by a target before. Ignored once or twice, acknowledged every time, but never dismissed. This was not going to fly. The Wolf advanced silently towards his quarry, making no sound, red eyes glowing with malice. The Scout waved his hand again, tutting. “No, I said I’ll get to you in a bit. I keep my word. Sit back down, finish your drink, and put the knife away.”

“And if I don’t?” The Wolf muttered under his breath.

“Them you’ll go down in history as the most boring assassin ever. If you want to kill me, you’ll do it on my schedule.”

“Idiot.”

“No, you idiot, I’m reckless. The difference being one is being thick as bricks and the other is having no regard for your own safety.”

The Wolf was a very patient killer, he would wait for days for his quarry to show themself, but after 5 minutes with this intolerable little man he had very much lost it. He went in with his knife and went straight for Sorren’s spine. He missed the spinal cord because of the Scout’s impossible reaction speed, but instead his blade was buried in his lumbar.

“Ouch. Welp, I’m off to die somewhere pretty. See you in hell.” Sorren groaned as he got up from his stool, blade still stuck in his back, and walked out of the bar bleeding everywhere, hopped on his motorbike, and caned it back to the Hotel California deep within the sprawling city.

-end-

Btw i got more wips to do more intros on, since you’re so desicated and insist on reading to the end of these :3

#wip intro #STHI #writblr #creative writing

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ravagedarkness · 2 years ago

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Spider-Man: Home Rebuilt, Chapter 43: Rescue

Frictor audibly sighed. “I know you’re freaking lyin’,” he deadpanned.

“I’m really not,” Ned assured. “Look, if I was, don’t you think MJ would be slugging me right now, given the situation?

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I need to know because I don’t have ‘Facing Dragons’ on my bingo card today. Come to think of it, I’ve never had that on my bingo card ever”

“Dude, you fought with and against aliens from different galaxies, on both Earth and another planet. You rubbed shoulders with Norse gods. You fought Captain America, a supersoldier from the 1940’s. You fought the most powerful sorcerer on Earth – and won using geometry. And right now, you’re standing with a seven feet tall former Marine who is bulletproof, a former Air Force Special Forces officer who can shoot powerful beams out of his eyes, a ninja who can phase through walls, and a vigilante that robs drug dealers and mentally controls friction. But dragons are where you draw the line at?”

“He has a point there,” Shadowcat pointed out. I opened my mouth, trying to argue. But I closed my mouth. It wasn’t the time to argue. We needed to figure out a solution. At least that’s what I told myself – I really didn’t feel like conceding that Ned had a point. Was it a petty? Perhaps… okay, it was. Shadowcat continued. “That would explain why the security response was rather small. Twenty guards for us? I hate to toot our horns, but I expected at least a hundred.”

“So how do we override the console, Bob?” Cyclops demanded as he turned towards the captive guard.

“I don’t know, really!” Bob exclaimed, putting his hands up defensively. “All I know is that only personnel from that floor can override it! I don’t know any-”

Bob wasn’t able to complete his sentence before he was blasted in the head by Cyclops. Cyclops looked down at the guard, who was out cold. He then took in a breath.

“Let’s see what these dragons are about,” Cyclops stated. He looked down at the console and tapped the screen, hitting the option for the fourth floor.

“I always said I’d do anything to get Carmilla back,” Frictor muttered. “I guess it’s time to put my money where my mouth is.”

As the doors closed and the elevator descended, we all faced forward towards the door. Frenzy readied her shotgun. Shadowcat pulled out two sai from her holsters and palmed them. Cyclops had his fingers on the side of the visor. Frictor adjusted his jersey as he bounced on his feet. I myself deployed the Pincers. Within seconds, the four burgundy spider-like limbs materialized from the back of my suit. I didn’t even have to ask Edith to do it. The Neural-Reactive Interface allowed me to do it with a mere thought. After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator reached the fourth floor. The doors then opened slowly. The first thing that hit me was the swirling red lights that bathed the floor and the sirens that sounded through the PA Sytem on that floor. However, my attention was taken away from those things when I took in the sight ahead of me.

As Ned said, there were two dragons on this floor. Both of them were rather large. If I had to take a guess, they were each the size of horses that are featured on Budweiser commercials. They looked like what one would expect a dragon to look like. They each had four legs with clawed feet and two leathery wings not unlike a bat or pterosaur. They both had long tails and scaly skin along with yellow eyes with no irises from what I can tell. One of them was purple and the other one was green. The purple dragon had two horns that pointed towards the rear, a long narrow snout, and two long fangs that protruded out of its lower jaw and towards the sky. The green dragon had a rounder snout with a horn on its nose. Spines ran down from the top of its head to just after where its backside ended and its tail began. The green dragon was on the floor, laying on its stomach. Somehow, I had a feeling it wasn’t doing so hot. My feeling was reinforced as the purple dragon gently nudged it with its muzzle. All around them lay several security guards – way more than 20, perhaps even more than 50. Some of them looked burnt. Others, from what I could see, sported some really gnarly slash marks.

“…Is Ned right?” I asked in awe as I shook my head. “Are we seriously looking at dragons right now?”

“We’re looking at dragons, bruh,” Frictor replied, his voice betraying how dumbfounded he was. “We’re looking at two whole behind dragons.”

“Where did they even come from?” Shadowcat inquired.

“Maybe they’re from Camelot,” Ned suggested over the communicators.

“Does Camelot even exist?” Betty asked.

“If Asgard exists, then I don’t think Camelot would be out of the question,” MJ pointed out. “I have to say, the dragons are kind of cute.”

At that, Frictor scoffed. “Easy for you to say from the outside, I’d say.”

“So how are we going to handle this?” Frenzy asked as she looked towards Cyclops. Cyclops glanced at her before he looked back at the dragons in front of us.

“Hey, Guy In The Chair, would you kindly tell me where there’s a console nearby?” he asked.

“Let me check the security system,” Ned replied. After some seconds, Ned spoke again. “So, there’s good news and bad news. The good news is, there’s a console on this floor, and there seems to be a scientist slumped next to it. He just might have a keycard we can use.”

“The bad news?” I asked.

“Well, the console is on the wall right across from you… which means…”

“We have to deal with these dragons,” Frictor finished with a sigh. “Welp, guess we have to play Monster Hunter.”

“Maybe we don’t,” Shadowcat said as she put away her sai. “Let me handle this. I can phase through them.”

“Are you sure?” Cyclops asked in concern. “You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

At that, Shadowcat scoffed and smirked. “What? You think they’re going to be the first things that can harm me while I’m phased?”

“That’s always a possibility.”

Shadowcat’s smirk faded. She paused before she looked towards the ground. “It never crossed my mind.”

“Let me go with you,” Frictor stated. “If worse comes to worse, I can be a distraction so you can do your thing.”

“Then in that case, we should all go,” Frenzy pointed out. “Especially since me and Spidey can take a lot more punishment than Frictor and Cyclops.” She looked at the aforementioned two. “Respectfully.”

“No offense taken,” Frictor replied.

“You have a point,” Cyclops agreed. “Okay, let’s approach slowly. We won’t attack them unless we’re forced to. Understood?”

“You got it,” I replied.

With Shadowcat taking the lead, we slowly moved out of the elevator. We walked forward at a very deliberate pace. We made it all of five steps before we got the purple dragon’s attention. Maybe it heard our footsteps. Maybe it saw us out of its peripheral vision. Whatever the reason, it quickly moved in front of its companion and let loose a roar. On instinct we all stopped. The dragon bared its teeth at us as it growled.

“Whoa, easy there big fella!” Frictor called out with a chuckle. “I don’t know what happened before we got here, but I promise we’re not with these guys.”

“We’re just your Friendly Neighborhood X-Men,” I added. Everyone else looked at me. I looked back at them and shrugged.

“Another modifier to the list,” Shadowcat muttered.

During this, the dragon stopped growling. We all looked at the dragon as it no longer bared its teeth at us. Slowly, it started to walk towards us. Cyclops had his right hand lowered. But his fingers twitched, which told me he was ready to blast the creatures if he needed to. Frenzy grabbed hold of her shotgun. I reached over with one of my Pincers and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked over at me. I shook my head. She glared at me, but reluctantly let go her rifle, leaving it hanging. I nodded before I looked back at the dragon.

The dragon finally closed the gap. It started sniffing at Shadowcat’s stomach. It sniffed for some seconds before it rose up on its hind legs and started sniffing at her face. Shadowcat chuckled sheepishly as she held her hands up.

“See, we’re not the bad guys,” she said. After some seconds, the dragon lowered itself back down to all fours. It then made a bit of a whining as it turned its head towards its companion. We all looked at the green dragon.

“I don’t think it’s doing too hot,” I said. “Maybe we should check on it.”

“Are you serious?” Frenzy interjected. “We’re here to rescue Carmilla, and you’re worried about a dragon?”

“Carmilla would want it this way,” Frictor refuted, albeit with a voice that carried a hint of reluctance. “Come on. Let’s see what’s going on with them.” We walked up to the green dragon, with Frenzy letting loose a groan of annoyance. I walked around the creature, stopping briefly when it lifted its head up and gently nudged me in the stomach. I finally stopped at its side, noticing the six bullet holes in its flank.

“Guys,” I called out as I kneeled down. The rest of the group moved to me, with Frictor taking a knee to the right of me.

“Yikes, they lit them up something nasty,” Frictor commented as he shook his head. “Shadowcat, think you can phase out the bullets?”

“You got it,” she replied. She stepped up and kneeled down to my left. She then brought her right forward before it phasing it right into the dragon’s side. She went almost elbow deep before she slowly moved the arm around. After a couple of minutes, she pulled her hand out before she opened it, showing us the bloodied bullets that lay in her part.

“Well, that was the hard part,” Frictor stated. “So how are we going to patch these wounds?”

“I have some tampons with me,” Frenzy offered as she opened up one of her pouches.

“Wait, you can use tampons for wounds?” Ned asked.

“Yes you can,” MJ replied. “That is what they were originally made for.”

Frenzy passed off the tampons to Frictor. After taking them, he tore open the paper wrappings of each one. One by one, he’d grab a tampon before he stuffed it into a bullet hole as gently as he could. The green dragon let loose a noise of discomfort.

“I know, I know,” Frictor whispered gently. “I’ll be done soon enough, I promise you.” After a few minutes, he had every bullet hole plugged. After that, he stood up and backed away. “There, all done.” Slowly, the dragon stood up. It turned its head and nudged its nose at the wounds for a moment. It then turned its head toward Frictor before it blew a small puff of smoke in his face. Frictor coughed as he fanned the smoke away from his face with his right hand. “I’m just going to assume that’s your way of saying thanks. So, you’re welcome.”

“I’ll take care of the override,” I declared. I jumped up, shot a web towards the ceiling, and swung towards the opposite wall. I broke my line and landed on all fours. As Ned said, there was a scientist slumped against the wall next to the console. I took a knee and started searching through the scientist’s lab coat. “I feel like I’m looting a corpse on Fallout.”

“Why don’t you check to see if he has some Sunset Sarsaparilla,” Ned jokingly suggested. I felt around until I felt a can. I pulled it out. I smirked as I recognized the drink.

It was a can of Cocaine.

“Hey, MJ, thirsty?” I joked.

“Spidey, if you so much as even bring that can back with you, I’m shoving it up your ass,” MJ threatened. I chuckled. I knew she didn’t mean it. It just happened to be a coincidence that I decided to put the can back into the pocket I found it in before I continued searching. A second later, I found the keycard. I stood up and stepped to my left so I was in front of the console. I swiped the keycard. After that went, I went through the options before I ended the alert. The lights turned to normal and the sirens stopped. I didn’t realize how much of a nuisance they were until I felt the relief in my ears. With the alert ended, I took the keycard with me as I swung back towards the others, cut the line, and landed on my feet.

“Okay, we should be able to get to the fifth floor,” I announced.

“Finally,” Frictor said. We all turned and walked towards the elevator. Once on the lift, I stepped up to the console. I swiped the card and saw that the fifth floor was finally able to be accessed. I was about to select the floor when Frictor spoke up. “Whoa, where are you two going?” I looked up to see the dragons walking towards us. “Guys, I understand we just helped you, but…” They ignored him and stepped onto the lift. “…Oh, okay. This is what we’re doing, huh?” The green dragon nudged its snout into his side. Meanwhile, the purple dragon rubbed its head against Shadowcat’s stomach, prompting her to chuckle heartily.

“Looks like we gained two allies,” Cyclops noted with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Seems like it,” I replied. “Going down.” I selected the option for the bottom floor. As the lift descended, I looked over at Frictor. He fidgeted a bit, shifting his weight from one foot to another as he grabbed his facemask and moved his helmet around a bit. I knew he was nervous, to say the least. I figured a little small talk could help. So, I spoke. “So… think our new friends have names?”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” Frenzy stated as she looked at the dragons. “…I hate to admit it, but they’re kind of cute.”

I nodded in agreement. “Maybe Shadowcat and Frictor should name them, since the dragons seem to have taken a particular liking to them.”

Shadowcat looked up towards the ceiling in thought. She then looked down at the purple dragon and smiled. “How do you like the name Lockheed?” she asked. The dragon let loose a rumbling sound from its throat. Something told me that it approved the name. Something also told me that these dragons are more intelligent than I was giving them credit for.

Frictor looked down at his apparent dragon companion. He then tilted his head briefly. “I’ll just call you Puff.” In response, the dragon raised its head and let loose a puff of smoke. Frictor chuckled. “Well, there you go.”

I smiled at the sight. Unfortunately, the moment of levity came to an end when the lift reached the floor. We all looked forward as the door opened. What we saw ahead of was a row of cells. From what I could tell, each cell door was completely solid, save for a barred window for viewing and hatches that I assumed was for giving those held captive their food.

“We’re finally here,” Cyclops stated. He then reached over and placed a hand on Frictor’s shoulder. “Are you ready for this?”

“I am… no matter what the outcome is,” Frictor declared. He took in a deep breath before he nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”

We all walked out of the elevator. As we walked, I looked around, trying to see if I could get a clue as to how we can find Carmilla. As we passed a cell door, I noticed that there were a series of numbers and letters on it. I came to a stop when I felt my senses buzz slightly. I looked to my right, looking at three cell doors. One was labeled WOSM119. Another was labeled USM98. The third was labeled ASM149.

“Everything okay, Spidey?” Shadowcat asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “…I just got a weird feeling, that’s all. Nothing major.” I tilted my head. “Hey, Edith, we could use a little help. Is there a database we can access so we can find Carmilla Black?”

“I’m searching through the systems now,” Edith informed. After a couple of minutes, she spoke again. “I found the database. I’m accessing it now… Access complete, searching database for Carmilla Black… I have found a match. She is currently in cell AFV2 dash 7. I’m uploading a map to both your HUD and Frictor’s HUD. This map is based on the ground plan of this floor. You all should be able to navigate this floor a lot easier.”

I clapped my hands together as relief washed over me. “Thanks a lot, Edith. If you had a flesh and blood body, I’d buy you dinner.”

At that, Edith chuckled heartily. “I’m happy to be of help.”

I looked at Frictor, who lifted his head slightly. No doubt the map appeared on his HUD. I saw the map in my vision. There were three dots on the map. Two of them were very close together – I figured that was me and Frictor. The third dot was quite a bit a ways from our current location. That had to be our destination.

“I’ll lead the way,” Frictor declared. “Follow me.”

He began to walk, and the others followed. I tried to ignore the eerie feeling I was getting. That proved to be a challenge, when, every now again, there would be voices from the cells we passed by. It became a bigger challenge when I realized that some of the voices weren’t human. I really wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. I kept quiet as we made our way through what was basically a prison. After several moments, we finally found the cell. We came to a stop. I stepped up to the cell and read the label.

“AFV2-7,” I stated. “This is it.” I then looked over my shoulder at the others. “Okay, guys, I need you all to get out of the way of the door. I’m taking this door down.” Without a word, the group parted. I did a backflip, putting some distance between myself and the cell door. I shot two strands webbing. They sailed through the air before they stuck to the top two corners of the door. I cut the lines, but held on to them, gripping them hard with my hand. I then took a step back and pulled as hard as I could. The door wouldn’t budge at first. Eventually, however, the sound of metal creaking and concrete cracking could be heard. I took another step back. Seconds later, the door was pulled off its hinges. I let go of the webbing and jumped to the side, just dodging the door as it fell to the ground with a huge thud. We all gathered on top of the door and in front of the now open cell.

Inside was a woman who didn’t look much older than me, if at all. She had dark green hair. She had a set of intense green eyes. Her skin was pale – something told me she hasn’t seen actual daylight for a very long time. She was shorter than me, but not by much. She was dressed in a rather ugly tan jumpsuit with the letters and numbers “AFV2-7” over the left side of her chest. On her feet were simple white sneakers that looked rather worn. One thing that stuck out to me was this metal cylinder that was over left forearm and hand.

Odd, I thought to myself.

She was in a fighting stance when we saw her. She had her eyes locked onto us and her teeth were bared. However, after some seconds, her expression softened as recognition came over her face.

“…Spider-Man?” she said.

“Not just me,” I replied. “I got friends with me.”

She looked around at all of us as she slowly walked forward. Her mouth went ajar as she took everyone in.

“…Shadowcat?” Carmilla asked as her eyes landed on Kitty.

“The very same,” Shadowcat replied.

She looked at Scott. “Cyclops?”

“I am,” Cyclops confirmed.

She looked up at Frenzy and tilted her head. “…You… I don’t think I know you.”

“You don’t,” Frenzy replied. “I’m Frenzy. I’m helping the X-Men.”

Carmilla’s eyes narrowed. “X-Men?” She looked at Cyclops. “I thought the X-Men are defunct.”

“They were defunct,” Frictor spoke up, stepping forward slowly. “We just revived the name some weeks ago and have Spider-Man in the fold.”

Carmilla tilted her head. Her eyes then went wide. “…Frictor?”

Frictor replied quietly. “Yeah, Carm’, it’s me.”

Carmilla stepped up to him. The rest of us backed away, giving them room – except for Puff, who remained at Frictor’s side. She reached over and grabbed one of Frictor’s sleeves. “…What is this? What did I tell you about walking around in flashy costumes?”

“‘Flashy gear gets you shot’, I know. But it’s functional, you know? It can handle bullets, especially when I use my powers with it.” He took in a breath as he bowed his head. “I… Um… I also… It’s just… You used to call me All-American. I figured I’d have Spidey and his girl make a suit so I can look like one when we find you.”

Carmilla let go of his sleeve and grabbed his facemask. She moved it, forcing him to make eye contact with her. “I thought I was dead to you.”

“You were,” Frictor replied with a tone of regret. “But… I didn’t know the full story and I didn’t even give you a fair shake.”

“No you didn’t,” Carmilla deadpanned with a glare. She then sighed. “But, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t have acted the way you did if the roles were reversed.” She smiled slightly. “…I figured texting you three would be a longshot. But I didn’t expect for you to care enough to come.”

“You’d be surprised,” Cyclops spoke. “He wanted to come straight here guns blazing. He even yelled at me when I said we needed to do our due diligence.”

“He’s been missing you for a long time,” I added. “He thought that, when you disappeared, you no longer wanted anything to do with him.”

“He didn’t even leave the house outside of work and patrols until very recently,” Shadowcat stated.

Carmilla looked at Cyclops, Shadowcat, and I for a few moments. She then looked back at Frictor.

“Is this true?” she asked.

“I literally went to therapy over you,” Frictor replied. He sighed. “…I got a lot to apologize for and a lot I need to tell you. And if you want to be mad at me for a while, I get it and I’m okay with it, just as long as you’re okay.” Carmilla closed her eyes and bowed her head.

“…You fool… you sap… you mensch.” She took in a breath before she raised her head, stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around Frictor’s neck as she embraced him. Without hesitation, Frictor wrapped her arms around abdomen and lifted her up off of her feet as he hugged her back. “We got a lot to talk about Frictor… but I’m happy you’re here.”

“Am I still your All-American?”

“That depends. Am I your Chicken Carmesan again?”

“You already know you are.”

“Then that’s your answer.”

Frictor chuckled as he lowered Carmilla to her feet. He pulled away from her a bit, but gently placed his helmeted head against her forehead.

As I watched them, I couldn’t help but feel relieved. I was able to do my part in this whole mission. And what made it all better was that we got the best possible outcome. I was happy for myself. And, obviously, I was happy for my fellow X-Men, Frictor especially. But, a little selfishly, I was internally happy over my little victory.

“So, I hate to interrupt this feel good moment,” Ned stated. “But you guys need to get out of there quick. I just intercepted some chatter – reinforcements have been called in and they’ll be arriving in about ten minutes.”

“Of course,” Cyclops muttered out. “Okay, everyone, we need to head out right now.”

“Okay, we’re rollin’,” Frictor said. “Can you run okay?”

“I can,” Carmilla assured. She then looked over at Lockheed and Puff, who looked at her curiously. “…Okay, I’m not the only one who can see these dragons, am I?”

Frictor shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay, good… let’s go.”

With that, we all ran for the elevator.

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markanddebbie-protectionprogram · 2 years ago

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LET'S GOOOOOO

excited thoughts under cut agsjagshaga

i never knew i needed the rae-rex friendship but now i'm glad it's here!!

MISS MA'AM DEBBIE DROP THE NAME OF YOUR BOOK CLUB LEMME JOIN YOU PLSSSS

WILLIAM AND AMBER FRIENDSHIP LET'S GOOOOO (they didn't have much of a chance at the college campus tour ep BUT they had potential at the end of s1 and i'm glad there's a big chance it'll be explored!! look how close and casually they are talking to each other!! they're best friends now!!)

[clutching my knees and rocking myself in fear] pls don't make it weird pls don't make it weird pls don't make it weird-

TWO BOXES CROSSED FROM MY BINGO BULLETPROOF AND SHAPESMITH ARE HERE BAYBEHHHHH

S2 POSTER

AAAAHHHH

#ngl the almost there reminded me of tiana's song i highkey wish that's what's playing in the bus that song is great!!#NOW WE WAIT FOR THE TRAILER AHHHHHH

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thisbrokenmask · 5 years ago

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A Little Medical Magic

Title: A Little Medical Magic

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Genre: Meet-cute?, fluff, hospital au

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 5.1k

Song inspiration: Dope (music video)

A/N: So I’m very aware that I’m nowhere close to finishing my bingo card before the end of the challenge (the end of this month), but I’m going to try and write them all anyway, no matter how long it takes. My next submission for ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo Event is my Dope inspired drabble, and this one takes inspo from the video rather than the song itself. Gotta love some Dr Seokjin <3

“Just a little longer, darling, I promise,” you speak softly into the hair of the boy in your arms, holding him close to your chest and rocking him gently. He whimpers, exhausted from the hours of sobbing and screaming he’d already endured throughout the night. You kiss his temple, pleased to feel his skin has cooled slightly despite the warmth that still radiates from him and sheen of sweat that still lingers.

You’ve been sitting in the A&E waiting room for just under half an hour, but it feels like much longer when your son has cried through most of his waking hours over the last two days. You’ve done everything you can, tried every medicine and home remedy you’ve had access to, but Iseul’s condition hasn’t improved. It started with a high temperature and gradually grew into a fever that you have been unable to break and you know better than to leave him suffering any longer. You’re trying to keep calm for his sake, knowing that he’s intuitive and perceptive enough to pick up on your fear even if he is only three years old.

“Mrs Y/l/n?” A nurse holding a clipboard calls your name across the room, although the prefix catches you off guard at first. You blink a few times before realising she means you, gathering Iseul in your arms before grabbing your purse to follow her. Iseul wraps his arms around your neck, snuggling into your chest and whining at the movement.

“It’s Miss Y/l/n,” you say as politely as you can, offering a smile before she can even begin to form an apology. “Don’t worry, most people assume. It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

You briefly remember now how you used to meekly allow people to assume you were married just because you had a son despite the absence of a ring of your finger. It didn’t take long for you to start correcting people, however, taking pride in everything you were achieving as a single mother rather than submitting to society’s attempts to shame you for not being with the father, let alone not being married. But when you’d found out you were pregnant just a few months into your last relationship, your still-new boyfriend had panicked and scarpered, so you felt no remorse at not being with him considering how easily he’d left you on your own.

The very second Iseul was put into your arms at his birth, you were besotted, and you’d known then, as long as you had your son by your side, you could face anything the world had to throw at you. The last three years haven't been easy by any means, juggling motherhood and your career, but you couldn’t even imagine now what your life would be like now without your son.

The nurse shows you into a consultation room, telling you the doctor will be with you in a moment before she leaves. You lay Iseul down on the examination bed and unwrap his hands from your neck despite his complaints, taking them in one of yours instead as you sit beside him. You stroke his hair softly, pushing it away from his forehead as you do so, and hum the sweetest melody you know. Your mother used to sing it to you when you were a child and the tune immediately came back to your memory when Iseul was born, as if it were a secret song only mothers knew. It has always settled him and you take comfort in the fact that you can at least give him that when your medicines haven’t worked.

As he gazes up at you, his face red and watery eyes shining under the fluorescent lights, you feel a sharp tug at the ever-present pull on your heart. It’s like a thread immediately unravelled in your heart when you gave birth to him, the other end attached to your son, pulling you towards him no matter where either of you were. You wish you could help him, that you didn’t have to bring him into the hospital environment that you hate so much at three in the morning, but you know this is what’s best for him.

The door suddenly opens behind you, making you jump slightly, and you turn to see the doctor walk in. You’re not sure if he looks so tall because you’re sitting down or if he really is that tall, but you immediately notice how you’re surprised that the small smile on his face actually reaches his eyes as he walks over to the desk on the other side of the room, white coat billowing out behind him.

Your last experience with a hospital doctor was when Iseul was born and, despite it being one of the greatest moments of your life, you can’t help the ghost of shame that creeps up your spine when you remember the way your doctor spoke to and about you. Yes, you’d been young, single and with your mother instead of the baby’s father, but you’d never expected such an emotionally detached reaction from the doctor. The nurses had looked after you incredibly, always making sure you were comfortable before and after Iseul’s arrival, but you’d never forget overhearing the doctor as he left, his assertion that he had another baby to deliver - this time to a “proper family”. Ever since, you’d had a wary disposition against doctors, constantly on alert that they would tell you that you were doing things wrong by being a single mother and not granting Iseul a male presence in his life, as if that were the most valuable thing in the world.

But this doctor seems a lot younger and, while you try not to let any prejudice shape your opinion, you can’t help but think he looks much more welcoming than any doctor you’ve met before. Maybe it’s because he’s a paediatrician, or maybe it’s the way his dark eyes seem to be permanently shining with a smile, but you instantly feel your own wariness beginning to ease.

It’s possibly also because he’s really quite attractive. He really does seem to be that tall and you note that the broadness of his shoulders is also not a trick of perspective. His dark hair sits just over his eyebrows, bringing your attention down to his large, dark brown eyes as they read the file that was left on the desk for him. Under his white coat is a simple white shirt, but it’s the tie that catches your attention: it’s bright red, not dissimilar to the red fire truck toy Iseul has at home, but it’s covered in little white hearts. You catch yourself smiling before he looks up at you, turning away and hoping he doesn’t notice any dusting on your cheeks.

“Who do we have here then?” he asks as he comes over to the bed holding the file, eyes already searching for every visual clue he can find to help him diagnose your son.

“Iseul,” you say with a brief flash of a small smile to the doctor before turning to your son, repeating his name and trying to coax Iseul out from hiding his eyes under his arms. He’d immediately crossed them over his face when you’d let go at the entrance of the doctor, shielding his eyes from the bright lights above him.

The doctor, however, seems unperturbed by your son’s reluctance to look at him.

“Ah, hello Iseul,” he says, carrying on as normal as he pulls over the chair by the desk and takes a seat, tucking his coat underneath him out of habit. “My name is Dr Kim, but you can call me Seokjin, if you like.” When Iseul still doesn’t look at him, Seokjin smiles sympathetically and turns to you. “So, Mum, what seems to be the problem?”

You’re ashamed that being on the end of his direct gaze makes you a different kind of nervous than you expected when you came to the hospital, especially when your son is lying on the bed beside you. Shaking your head slightly, you miss the smirk on the doctor’s face as you turn to your child.

“Uh, he’s had a high temperature for the last few days,” you say, placing a protective hand on his tummy, “ He keeps saying his head hurts, but paracetamol doesn’t seem to help much and I worry about giving him too much. He’s been off his food, too, even when I make his favourites, and he’s been sick a few times.”

Seokjin nods as he takes a few notes, adding to what’s already written in the file in his hand. You can’t figure out if his blank expression is solemn or just concentration and it makes your heart beat a little faster for the little boy under your hand.

“Iseul, buddy, is it alright if I take your temperature?”

Your son shakes his head under his arms before whimpering at the movement.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you coo. “Doctor Kim’s gonna make you feel better, okay?”

“I sure am,” Seokjin’s voice is confident but warm and almost playful and you feel a flutter of relief when you see Iseul’s eyes peek out from under his arms and flicker towards him. “Do you think you can sit up for me?” Iseul’s not had much experience with doctors, not any that he would remember, anyway, and you don’t want to pass on your hesitancy, so you smile and nod encouragingly when he finally looks to you for reassurance.

Iseul thinks for a few seconds before he reaches out for you and you help him to sit up, wrapping your arm around him so that he can shuffle up to your side. You see his eyes widen as he takes in Seokjin’s full appearance for the first time, his attention immediately drawn to the shiny stethoscope around the doctor’s neck.

“You gonna let Doctor check your temperature?” you squeeze his shoulder lightly and stroke his hair again as he watches Seokjin curiously, his eyes constantly drifting down to the instrument around the doctor’s neck.

“All you gotta do is hold this under your tongue for me for a few seconds, okay?” Seokjin tells him, showing him a small thermometer, and your son nods shyly, still sniffling slightly. “Fabulous,” Seokjin praises his cooperation and you grin at the little smile that creeps onto your son’s face. “Now, let’s see how wide you can open your mouth, shall we?” Iseul makes a large ‘O’ with his lips, making both you and the doctor chuckle. “Oh, I know a grown boy like you can do better than that!” Seokjin teases and Iseul proves him right, allowing the doctor to slip the thermometer under his tongue. “Now, see if you can hold that perfectly still for me - without biting it,” he quickly adds, knowing most children are immediately tempted to do just that. “Pretend it’s a straw, okay?” Iseul does as he’s told, looking up at you before crossing his eyes to look down his nose at the thermometer.

“Good job, baby,” you encourage him as he keeps flicking his eyes between you and the instrument. You press a kiss to the top of his dark brown hair and are relieved to feel that his temperature has lessened slightly, even if only temporarily.

“Let me see?” Doctor Kim leans over and you watch him take note of the temperature before taking the thermometer from Iseul’s mouth and laying it gently on a tray beside the bed. “Excellent, I knew you could do it!” He offers Iseul a high five, which your son eagerly grants him with more enthusiasm than you’ve seen in him lately and it makes your heart swell just that little bit more. Seokjin carefully takes his stethoscope from around his neck and holds it in his lap before leaning forward conspiratorially. “Now, as you were such a good boy, I’m allowed to show you a little bit of magic… would you like to see it?”

Iseul nods but then frowns, glancing at you before looking back to Dr Kim.

“Mummy can’t watch, though.” A cry of indignation escapes you at your son’s words, but Seokjin simply laughs.

“No?” Iseul shakes his head with a solemn expression, as if it pains him to speak the truth, and Seokjin continues to humour him, despite the splutters of objection you’re trying to swallow. “And why’s that?”

“Mummy hasn’t been a good girl,” your son states this like it’s obvious, much to Seokjin’s amusement.

“Excuse me?” you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, a million thoughts flying through your head and a slight stab of betrayal in your heart, although you weren’t even sure what he’d be talking about. Sure, you enjoyed a glass of wine or two on a Friday night, but you always made sure to tidy everything away before your son awoke for breakfast the next morning. You didn’t swear in front of him. You hadn’t had anyone other than your closest friends over to your house since Iseul was born, and the three dates you’d tried had ended at the front step.

“Oh dear,” Seokjin sighs, although a playful smirk tugs at his lips as he looks at you, dark eyes shining like jet as he quickly looks you from head to toe. “Mummy’s been a bad girl, huh?”

An aggressive blush fills your cheeks and you suddenly feel like the little room is overheating, too stuffy to breathe properly as the devilishly handsome doctor in front of you simply quirks an eyebrow. ‘Stop flirting with the doctor!’ you berate yourself. ‘You’re here for your son!’ Your eyes involuntarily drop down to Seokjin’s hands, but his left hand is tucked neatly under his right over the top of his stethoscope, so you can’t see if a ring sits on his finger or not. You presume he is married, though, or at least dating someone, given how absolutely perfect he seems to be.

“...no,” Iseul says, looking up to the ceiling as if deep in thought and you recognise it as the way he tries to avoid looking at you when you’ve caught him trying to lie, and Seokjin looks back to him as soon as he speaks. “But she hasn’t done nothing good, neither! I had the ‘mometer in my mouth, she didn’t.”

“Ahh, I see,” Seokjin nods sagely, his hand pressed to his chin and the other folded across his chest, pouting slightly as he considers Iseul’s argument. “You make a good point,” he says, “how about this, then - I show you the magic, and then you can show Mummy?”

“You’ll teach me?” Iseul’s eyes light up, not even illness getting in the way of his love for magic tricks - especially magic tricks he can perform for you.

“Of course!” Seokjin grins, “although I’m sure you’ll do it first try no problem.” He looks to you and winks quickly, lifting the stethoscope slightly to signal to you what he was planning, and you return the slightest nod you can manage without drawing your son’s attention. “You ready?” he asks your son, who immediately turns to you and pushes at your arm.

“Don’t look, Mummy! Not allowed!”

Happy to see your son with more energy, you play along for his benefit, dramatically sighing and turning your body slightly so that he thinks you aren’t watching. You can, however, see his reflection in the glass-lined cabinet on the other side of the room, and watch as Seokjin presents the stethoscope to your son.

“Now this,” he says, and you smile at the way he softens his voice to make it sound much more fantastical for Iseul, “is a very special thing. It lets you hear a person’s heart.”

“Wow! Really?” Reflection-Iseul leans forward slightly and puts his hand out, reaching out to touch the stethoscope before retracting his hand, as if he might break the magic if he does. His eyes are wide and awestruck despite the traces of illness still lingering in his reddened cheeks and dampened hairline.

“Really. How about I show you how it’s done, and then you can try it on Mummy?” Your son’s reflection nods as avidly as he can without hurting himself, although you still see the traces of a frown pull at his brow when he does so. Seokjin puts the earpieces in before taking hold of the other end, showing it to Iseul and explaining that this is the magic piece that lets him hear people’s hearts. He explains that the heart can only be heard by good, kind people who care about others, which is why they all become doctors and nurses, before pointing to the part of Iseul’s chest he’s going to listen to and telling him he has to sit still for it to work.

And it works without a hitch, Iseul watching, amazed, as Seokjin listens to his heartbeat. After a few seconds, Seokjin starts nodding to himself and then pulls away.

“Yep, seems like we’ve got a good heart in there,” he says, putting the stethoscope back in his lap as he takes some notes. “You should be able to do this magic no problem.”

A tugging at your sleeve encourages you to turn around, fistfuls of your jacket sleeve in your son’s hands, and you smile down at your son.

“Did you see the magic?” you ask him, and he is all but bouncing on the bed.

“I did! Dr Seokjin says I’ve got a good heart and I can do the magic, too!”

You look at the doctor in question, catching him watching your interaction with your son with a warmth in his eyes before he notices you looking at him and looks back down at his papers, clearing his throat. You refrain from smirking at the blush on his cheeks and turn back to your son.

“Wow, really? You can do magic? Can you show me?”

Without any further prompting needed, Seokjin lends forward as he removes the stethoscope once again, this time scooting his chair closer to the bed. He offers the chest piece to Iseul, telling him to hold onto it while he moves to put the earpieces in place. He plans to hold them rather than letting them press on Iseul’s young ears, but as soon as even the slightest pressure touches his ears, Iseul shrieks and drops his end of the stethoscope. He pushes Seokjin’s hands away and covers his ears with his own, burying his face into your side.

You’re immediately panicking, but Seokjin quickly retracts the stethoscope and drops it to the bed, nothing more than a brief frown furrowing his brow before he reaches into his pocket to pull out a small instrument.

“Do your ears hurt, Iseul?” Your son nods against you, your arms already wrapped around him. “Can I have a look?” You expect your son to scream in refusal given the fact that Seokjin’s last instrument caused the pain in the first place, but you’re surprised when your son simply nods again, rubbing his eyes as he sits up again. Seokjin seems to have gained his trust incredibly quickly, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thrilled that he wasn’t holding his experience against the doctor.

With the utmost care, Seokjin uses the tool in his hand to check Iseul’s ears before pulling away with a soft, yet somewhat relieved, sigh.

“It appears that Iseul has an infection in his left ear, which explains everything you’ve said he’s been going through,” he says, turning to you briefly before rolling back over to the desk. “I’ll get some antibiotics sorted for him, and he’ll be as right as rain in no time.”

The smile he gives you is reassuring, but you can’t bring yourself to smile back. You hold your son close as you curse yourself for not even thinking about the possibility of an ear infection, especially as it was now so obvious as you recalled Iseul’s increased habit of touching his ears over the last few days. He’d told you his head had been hurting, but you hadn’t realised he’d actually meant his ears. You feel a sinking in your chest at the idea that you’ve failed your own son, whose cries have now settled back down to hiccups, but Seokjin quickly catches on.

“Hey,” his voice is soft, calling you out of your reverie. He doesn’t want to assume what you’re thinking, but he’s seen the same look on plenty of parents’ faces over the last few years and he can take a good guess. “He’ll be okay.”

You nod quietly, still frowning but somehow reassured by the simple statement.

“Thank you, Doctor,” you say, rising to put your purse over your shoulder properly this time before lifting your son onto your hip. You take the signed prescription slip he offers you, ready to go off in search of someone to fill it for you, but he places a gentle hand on your arm to stop you.

“You’re doing a good job, Miss Y/l/n,” he says softly, and it takes you a few seconds to realise he hasn’t immediately assumed you’re married. “Don’t pressure yourself, okay?”

It’s been a long time since someone has outwardly praised you like this, especially a stranger, and it catches you off guard, your breath catching in your throat. Seokjin’s gaze flickers between your eyes for a few seconds, waiting until he’s sure you’ve taken him seriously, before he offers a gentle smile and removes his hand from your arm.

As you leave the examination room, Seokjin directs you to the hospital’s pharmacy and assures you that you should be able to pick up the antibiotics from them without an issue. He seems to hesitate, opening his mouth and closing it again before wishing you a good night and walking away, and you try not to think too much about the lingering flutter in your chest as you set off in your own direction.

You sink back into your chair as you place your mug back on the table, directing your gaze out of the large floor-to-ceiling window to the high street just beyond it. You idly watch as the Saturday morning shoppers hurry back and forth, some families and couples lingering at shop windows as others push on to their next destination. The summer sun casts everything in a brightness that you can’t help but feel joy in, even as the sun’s rays are amplified through the glass and make your legs feel like they’re burning up.

You turn back to look around the coffee shop you’re sat in, reminding yourself that you don’t have any reason to rush right now. The rare, stolen moment of unhurried peace that you haven’t felt in a long time is something you know you need to cherish, because in just over twenty-four hours your son will be coming home from his grandparents’ house, but it does feel strange to not have your son joyfully chattering across the table from you.

Your mother had offered to let Iseul stay over at their for the weekend, half out of her love of spending time with her grandson and half out of concern for the way you were constantly rushed off of your feet, either from being a mother or from your job as a curator for the National History Museum. It was a small treat for you to be able to get a weekend to yourself and go shopping on your own, not having to worry about your son running in and out of changing rooms while you tried on new clothes, and you’ve decided to also indulge in a slightly overpriced coffee without having to rush while you have the chance.

As your eyes skim down the line of patrons waiting to order, you think you recognise one of them but can’t quite place where you know him from. He’s tall, clearly several inches above the other people in the line, with dark hair sitting on top of a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. The light of his phone reflects in his lenses as he gazes down at it, avidly watching or reading whatever it is that’s caught his attention, and his lips are pushed out in a small pout in the midst of his concentration.

Despite the weather, he’s in black skinny jeans that look sinfully tight above the knees and bring further attention to his height, but you suppose the loose white t-shirt hanging off his broad shoulders must be helping him to stay rather cool-

Wait... incredibly tall, broad shoulders… it couldn’t be?

So lost is he in his phone, the man at the end of your gaze doesn’t notice the gap forming in front of him until the slightly elderly patron behind him clears his throat gently. You hear him apologise several times to the man behind him (who just smiles softly and tells him not to worry) and lets the man go up the counter first by way of an apology, and it’s only when you hear his voice that you realise who he is.

You’re pretty certain the jump in your heartbeat is cause for concern when you finally recognise him without the white coat. You start slightly, almost choking on nothing and quickly hide your reddening face by looking down at your drink, then out of the window again, then down to your phone. You bring up the home screen even though you know no one has texted you, desperate for something to do to put off looking up again, instead trying to figure out what had caused your reaction in the first place.

Of course, he was attractive - in fact he was ridiculously so - and he had been kind to you and your son, but that was his job as a paediatrician. Maybe it was the way he’d reassured you, been one of the first strangers in a while to assuage your underlying fears that you weren’t adequate as a single mother, or perhaps it was that last lingering look that had stayed with you as he’d said goodbye in A&E-

“Miss Y/l/n?” Your thoughts are cut short by a voice beside you. Looking up, you see the broad-shouldered doctor standing beside your table, holding his own drink in a takeaway cup. He smiles when you look up at him, apparently happy to have recognised you.

“Dr Kim?” You immediately blush at the squeaky voice that tumbles out of your mouth, a hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Call me Seokjin, please,” he smiles, a gentle blush on his cheeks when he can’t quite meet your eyes, seemingly less confident outside of his hospital halls. “Sorry for interrupting, I just thought I’d come over and say hello.”

In actual fact, he has no idea what made him come over to you. He sees his patients and their parents outside of the hospital all the time and never bats an eyelid, knowing it comes with the territory of working at the main hospital in the city, but when he’d seen you staring out of the window, a serene look on your face as you watched the people passing you by, he’d felt compelled to go over to you. So when the barista had handed him his drink, he’d followed his feet to stand beside your table.

“How’s your son doing?”

“Iseul? He’s fine, thank you.” You think back to what he’d said to you before you’d made to leave. “He was right as rain in no time, just like you said.” God, why did that sound better in your head than it did out loud?

“I’m glad,” Seokjin’s eyes briefly disappear behind his glasses when he nods happily, the reflection of the light above him making the lens white until he looks down to you again. “I told you he would be.” He tries not to wince as he groans internally, cursing himself for being so awkward when it comes to small talk. It’s never been his strong point, which is why he likes working with children as they don’t do small talk either. He’d rather field all of their weird and wonderful thoughts and questions than talk to their parents about the weather or sports he doesn’t watch.

You both fall into silence, still awkwardly smiling at each other without quite making eye contact. Your pulse is racing in your ears and you know it’s not the coffee.

“Would you like to join me?” You’re not quite sure where the offer comes from but you gesture to the chair on the other side of your table before you can help yourself. Seokjin’s eyes widen behind his lenses at your question and he looks at the chair with an expression that could be either pained or offended - you’re not quite sure.

It takes a few seconds for you to remember that he’d ordered his drink to go, the takeaway cup taunting you from his hand as he shifts his weight from foot to foot and now you’re not sure whether to hastily backtrack or just wait for him to reject you.

“Never mind-”

“I’d love to-”

You blink at each other when you speak at the same time, but luckily Seokjin blesses you with a chuckle rather and breaks the tension holding your heart hostage.

“I wouldn’t be disturbing you?” he asks, and when you shake your head with a smile he takes the seat.

“You don’t have to, if you’re busy?” You point to his cup, wondering where he’d been planning on going with it, wondering if there was maybe a partner waiting for him somewhere on the street outside.

“Oh, no, I’m not busy,” he fiddles with the lid on his cup, suddenly shy as he admits, “I don’t really like sitting in cafes alone, so I tend to just get it to go instead.” He hesitates and then looks up at you, his gaze steady despite the blush of pink creeping down the side of his neck. “But I guess I’m not alone this time, though, am I?”

“You’re not,” you agree, delighting in the way his lips transform into the most adorable smile you’ve ever seen on a grown man. You decide then and there that, even if it’s only for today, you’re going to try and keep that smile on his face for as long as possible. Clearing your throat, you lean your arms against the table and meet his gaze when he looks over at you. “So, Seokjin-”

“Jin.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My friends call me Jin,” he clarifies and you feel another little skip in your chest, then he motions for you to continue speaking as he lifts his drink to take a sip and hide his own blushing cheeks.

If you’d like to read any of my other drabbles, please visit my masterlist here.

#kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts #seokjin fluff #doctor seokjin #doctor kim seokjin #doctor au #bts doctor au #fwlbingo #bulletproof bingo #ficswithluv #dope #bts dope #dts drabbles

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boywivlove · 5 years ago

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| Title | Lost My Way |

| Pairing | Min Yoongi x Reader

| Word Count | 1K

| Genre | Pianist AU, fluff, slight romantic moments, slight angst

| Summary | Min Yoongi was a rising prodigy in the pursuit of his career as a musician, but after a car accident his hands are left with severe injuries. It takes years for him to find his way again, and he will never give up his dream, no matter what life throws at him.

| Warnings | descriptions of accidents and injuries.

| AN | My second drabble for the `BTS Bingo Collaboration` with `ficswithluv` and I’m really glad to get this out!! Im going to be posting a lot more drabbles in the weeks to come !

----- “Even if Im slow, I will walk with my own feet Because I know this path is mine to take. Even if I go back, I will reach this path Eventually I will never I will never lose my dream” ----

If you asked Min Yoongi before graduation, where he thought he would be in two years, it wouldn't be here. He would have answered that he would have liked to be training with the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra, having been offered a place with them straight after graduation. He never could have guessed he would be sitting in a physiotherapy clinic , his hands barely able to hold a pen, all because of a head on collision with a drunk driver. But fate has a weird way of messing with people's lives, doesn't it?

He hadn't always liked piano, in fact, up until he was 15, he had never touched a key. Yoongi had grown up streetwise, not classically trained. But during a summer school program, he thought what the hell and took it as an elective. It was either that or track… no thanks. Yoongi was quick to learn how to play, his teacher noting that he was the quickest student to learn the ins and outs of playing. After he had been given the confidence to play, he had started to pride himself on his dedication to his skills, and to have it taken away from him because of one stupid, selfish ass hole… it burned him. It made him angry. He was supposed to make something of his life, to be recognised for his skill and get off the streets.

The crash happened one night in June, he had stayed late to practice for his upcoming exam. The driver sped right through a red light, and right into the front of Yoongi's car, he couldn't remember exactly how he got to the hospital, but they said he was lucky to be alive, his head had been split open upon impact, his face and body had been scraped by the glass from the windshield. But the injury that he felt the most were his hands, severely impacted by nerve damage, when he first woke up he had thought they had been amputated, not being able to feel them at all. The doctors had said there was a 40% chance he would be able to control them again, but it wasn't 100%. And to Yoongi, that wasn't enough.

“How are you feeling Yoongi?” He didn't look up to address you, but he nodded his head in acknowledgement. You were the newest in a string of physiotherapists assigned to help Yoongi try and work through his injuries. The others Yoongi had driven away from his outbursts of anger. You were younger than the others, only a year or so older than him, and he had to admit you were pretty to look at. And you hadn't asked for a replacement therapist for him yet, it had been 6 months and you still stayed with him. Yoongi was grateful, even if he had a hard time showing it.

It wasn't that Yoongi didn't want to get better, he wanted nothing more than to be able to use his hands again, but at the same time, he was tired of trying and getting nowhere. He was angry.

He hated that what happened happened to him, after he had worked too hard to get to where he was. He would never, ever get an opportunity like that again, it wasn't just his slot in the symphony and his ability to play he lost, his friends, he had eventually pushed them away one by one. He couldn't stand the sympathetic way they spoke to him, giving him advice they found on google on how he could get his hands back to the way they were. What the fuck would they know about anything. The only person he seemed to open up with was you, you didn't push him, but you did challenge him to do the exercises.

The therapy was slow, infuriatingly so. It was like no matter what he did or how much he tried, he was incapable of the simplest of things. His writing looked like chicken scratch, he would barely grip onto anything without dropping it, even getting dressed took twice as long and made his hands ache,

“You've made some great progress in the last year, I know it's not as much as you want it to be, but progress is progress.”

It was a slow process, painstakingly slow. But after months of you challenging Yoongi with the physiotherapy, Yoongi could finally see some progress. He could write his name in a somewhat presentable way, he could fully grasp anything without it aching, but he would hold things slightly. It even hurt less to button up his shirt in the morning. You were so proud of Yoongi for sticking at it and trying as much as he can muster. The whole reason you took this job was to help people get their lives back on track, and to see Yoongi smile when he was able to do something with his hands made it all worth it.

You had decided to pay Yoongi a visit today instead of being cooped up in the clinic for hours, there was no reason you couldn't do his exercises at home afteral. Yoongi had given you a spare key to let yourself in, and had told you the flat number that was his. You had brought him some lunch from a bakery you remember him saying was his favourite place to go after practice.

Fiddling with the key in the lock you made your way inside and set the lunch on the kitchen table. You heard a soft off key melody being played in the next room, re must have not heard you enter. Making your way slowly to the door, you spot him sitting at his piano, his hands tentatively playing the keys. You could see the concentration that was etched onto his features, and the shaking of his hands. It was a serene moment that you loved to see with him, but it was cut short when you heard another off key moment, and his hands slammed into the keys, causing him to cry out. You rushed over to where he was in an instant, afraid he had hurt himself, he seemed to only then notice you as he let you inspect his shaking hands.

“You know better Yoongi, no straining your muscles!” You look over his hands, gently turning them over in your own.

“Whats the point of trying to get better if Im NOT getting better, what the fuck am I suposed to do! I'm no closer than I was when all this shit first happened!”

Your heart went out to him, it really did. You knew Yoongi's background from your little conversations during your sessions. You knew where he'd come from and how hard he'd trained and worked for this chance.

“That's not true, you've made great progress, a year ago you couldn't even pick up a pen, let alone play the piano like you just did . Yoongi I know it's hard, but a big part of recovery is the patience and time you put into it. It's not an overnight thing. You know that..”

He said nothing, just breathing through the numb feeling he now felt in his hands. He nodded slowly and looked up at you, your hands still holding his own.

“What if it never goes away… Y/N what if everything I've worked for can never come true, and I'm stuck with a bunch of what ifs for the rest of my life….”

“Is that what you're most afraid of?”

He nodded, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I've worked so hard… I've put so much energy into this, I can't imagine doing anything else…”

“Yoongi, I know you can do this, you just need to give it time. And I know you're gonna get back on your feet, and you're gonna get over this… you've just got to give it time.”

He was nervous. He was so fucking nervous. It had taken him years after the accident to get here. Watching just off the stage as the audition before he finished up, he was good, his melodies were flawless. Yoongi had to commend him on his steady hand. Looking at his own, he was full of doubt. He wasn't sure he would be good enough to do this audition.

He walks out in a daze. The nape of his neck started to feel hot. He introduces himself, and he takes his place on the bench. He swallows, and looks out to the crowd. It was then he saw you enter quietly, taking a seat in the empty isle. You came. He suddenly thought of everything you'd said to him through his recovery, the promises of staying by his side, the encouraging smiles when he started practising again. Even when his sessions were over, you still stayed in touch with him and encouraged him even more. It wasn't until the judges panel motioned for him to start that he gave his hands a small squeeze.

Life hasn't been easy for him recently. Everything had changed for him. It was a slow process. But he's here, he made it.

One step forward, two steps back. He'd never lost his ambition, it was just buried under fear and doubt. But now, he was ready to reach his dreams, and he had you as his light in dark times to guide him.

#ficswithluv #fwlbingo2020 #bulletproof bingo #btsbookclub #armysource #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanscenery #bangtanarmynet #min yoongi #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi drabble #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagine #bts #min yoongi au

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somesortofitalianroast · 1 year ago

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Bucky Barnes Bingo 2023 Masterpost: Blackout!

B1: AU: Coffee shop - Gen - James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark - No archive warnings apply - 1283 - A holiday party at Wide Awake.

U1: AU: no powers - Teen - Tony/Bucky; Jane/Darcy - No archive warnings apply - 3352 - A Spinster for a Duke; A Merchant for a Soldier

C1: Kink: body worship - Explicit - Bucky/Scott Lang - No archive warnings apply - 1737 - To touch is to heal (to hurt is to steal)

K1: "Dying ain't so bad" - Mature - Bucky/Scott Lang - No archive warnings apply - 1332 - and the night would be enough

Y1: Holiday fic - Teen - Steve/Bucky - No archive warnings apply - 1082 - Fireworks in Brooklyn

B2: Denial - Mature - Bucky Barnes/Darcy Lewis - No archive warnings apply - 1729 - Autumn in Vermont (Chapter 1: A MixUp at the Rental House)

U2: Thor - Explicit - Steve/Thor; Steve/Bucky/Thor - No archive warnings apply - 3612 - a cabin in the woods

C2: Kink: Bath/shower sex - Explicit - Shrinkyclinks | Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes/Non-Serum Steve Rogers - No archive warnings apply - 1362 - bloodied knuckles and the beginnings of a black eye

K2: Adopting a pet - Gen - Tony/Bucky - No archive warnings apply - 1691 - A Kitten for a Sergeant

Y2: Pic: Bucky from TFATSW - Mature - Bucky/Darcy - No archive warnings apply - 967 - Alphas and Omegas and Heats, Oh My! (Chapter 2)

B3: Two Halves of a Whole Idiot - Gen - Scott Lang/Steve Rogers - No archive warnings apply - 1191 - in handcuffs on RICO charges

U3: Meet Cute - Teen - Stucky - No archive warnings apply - 1244 - Touch [The Bucky Barnes Remix]

C3: FREE - Teen - Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - No archive warnings apply - 1158 - I need your loving (I stab you in the back)

K3: Hurt/Comfort - Gen - Bucky/Scott Lang - No archive warnings apply - 1589 - Of coffee shops, hockey, and poké

Y3: Little Sister - Mature - Bucky/Darcy - No archive warnings apply - 1642 - well, this is awkward

B4: Image of WS in Murderstrut (swapped with RebelMeg) - mature - James "Bucky" Barnes/Qui-Gon Jinn - creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - 2149 - Of broken bonds, secret relationships, and mad scientists

U4: Pic of Seb - Mature - Pre-Stucky - No archive warnings apply - 1798 - of practical jokes and secret admirers

C4: Through a scope - mature - steve/scott - No archive warnings apply - 4300 - Scenes from an Italian Restaurant [chat version]

K4: Canon compliant - Teen - N/A - Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - 872 - Erik Lehnsherr and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Y4: AU: Hospital - Teen - Clint Barton & Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers - No archive warnings apply - 1601 - “So, come here often?”

B5: recovery - Mature - Darcy Lewis/Buckhy Barnes - No archive warnings apply - 1059 - Alphas and Omegas and Heats, Oh My! (Chapter 1)

U5: Music - Mature - Darcy Lewis/Buckhy Barnes - No archive warnings apply - 1442 - Autumn in Vermont (Chapter 2: An Accidental Kiss.... )

K5: Guns - Teen - Clark Kent/Darcy Lewis - No archive warnings apply - 1147 - In Metropolis, even the mild-mannered reporters are bulletproof

Y5: Cat Dad - Gen - Bucky/Steve - No archive warnings apply - 1324 - Bucky Barnes. Author. Cat Dad.

Adopted: Enemies to Lovers - Mature - Bucky/Darcy - No archive warnings apply - 827 - Autumn in Vermont (Chapter 3: Bucky and Stella?)

@buckybarnesbingo

#my writing #bucky barnes bingo #bucky barnes #bingo masterpost

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lunar-jimin · 5 years ago

Text

there are truths unchanged time rushes ever forward there's no ifs, buts, or maybes

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-13 (for swearing)

Genre: fluff with a teensy bit of angst, roadtrip!au

Length: 1k

Warnings: none really, just soft happy hoseok for these hard times

a/n: this is my first fic for @ficswithluv‘s Bulletproof Bingo. If you are interested, check it out here!

bingo m.list | bingo card | m.list

You jumped up at the knock on your door, rushing to open it. In front of you stood your best friend, smiley as ever.

"Ready to go, love?"

"Just about. Did you already fuel up?"

"Yep, and I loaded up on snacks and drinks."

"Awesome! Lemme grab my bags, and I'll be out in a second."

You and Hoseok had been planning this road trip for years. It was your last summer before college, and you were going to spend it on the road, seeing all the sights you had dreamed about.

You disappeared into your bedroom to grab your backpack and suitcase before trekking back out into the living room. Hoseok had made his way to the couch, where he sat lazily scrolling through his phone. It was times like this that reminded you of how much you loved him, and not in a platonic way. It had been years since you finally let yourself admit you had fallen for your best friend.

He looked up when he noticed your present. A grin stretched across his face when he saw the immense amount of luggage you were carrying.

"Did you throw the kitchen sink in, too?" he teased.

"You know I'm not good at packing."

He rolled his eyes.

'Uh-huh, sure."

You made a quick sweep of the house before following him outside. His old yellow Cadillac was parked next to the sidewalk. He had the trunk popped open, rearranging items to make room for your luggage.

"I can't believe we're finally doing this." You grinned as hoisted your suitcase into the back.

Hoseok beamed back at you.

"I know. Just the two of us for weeks on end with nothing but the road before us. It's gonna be great."

An hour later, you were cruising down the highway heading west. Loud, upbeat music serenaded you as the city slipped away into the countryside. Pure euphoria coursed through your veins as the wind blew through your hair. You glanced over at Hoseok, elated to see his smile as he wrapped along to the track. God, sometimes you hated how much you loved him.

The sun was just below the horizon when you pulled into a motel for the evening. You were somewhere between cities, and it was nice to relax to the sound of frogs and crickets instead of the hum of urban life. Ever the gentlemen, Hoseok dragged all your luggage into the room, while you scrounged for a decent local restaurant to order take out from.

Your evening was quiet. The two of you past the time playing the few games you had brought and eating the crappy Chinese food you had bought. When you were finally laying in your respective beds for the night, you felt a bittersweet feeling creep in. You hated thinking about the end of summer when your adventure would come to a close. In the fall, you would be heading off to college in New York, while Hoseok would stay behind to open up a dance studio with your mutual friend, Jimin. But it was too quiet for you to not succumb to the thoughts, so you fell asleep with soft tears in your eyes.

The morning came fast, and you found yourself once again, the passenger seat. The day passed lackadaisically, filled with all the car games from your childhood and the occasional nap. When the evening came again, you pulled into a campground somewhere in the middle of the desert.

While the day had been blazing hot, the setting sun took the warmth with it. After changing into warmer clothing, you pitched the tent while Hoseok attempted to start a fire.

"Fuck!"

The tent had collapsed on you again.

"Hoseok...," you whined, "can we just sleep under the stars? This tent hates me."

He chuckled at your pout, "Sure thing, but if it rains, I'm using your clothes as a towel."

After successfully roasting hotdogs, you found yourself curled up next to your best friend, looking up at the night sky. Hoseok was pointing up at constellations explaining the myths behind them, the sound of his voice lulling you into a peaceful sense of security. You turned your eyes away from the stars to focus on the contour of his face. The way his nose sloped and how his lips moved to form words.

"I love you."

He paused for a second, glanced at you, and then back up at the sky.

"I love you too."

"Not like that, dummy."

Somewhere in your mind, a voice was screaming that what you were saying was stupid, and you would regret it, but you were too blissed out and tired to care.

"Then, like what?"

He was facing you again.

"Like you're my entire universe, and no one will ever compare to you. Like I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Like I love you so much that I'll never have room to properly love anyone else."

The words were falling from your mouth without filter, but you couldn't seem to find it in yourself to stop.

"And I love you too."

It took a moment for the words meaning to register in your dazed mind. When they did, you found yourself staring at him blankly, your mind trying to figure out what to do next. You barely registered Hoseok's eyes flicking to lips, and before you realized what you were doing, you had softly placed your lips on his.

He responded almost instantly, lips moving with yours. You had always hated cliches, but you swore you felt fireworks going off in your mind. You had waited nearly ten years for this moment, and it was just as perfect as all the times you had daydreamed about it.

When he finally pulled away from, you had matching grins. His eyes seemed alight with a joy you had never seen in him.

"I can't believe I've waited my entire life to do that."

His voice was as soft as lips.

"It's better now than never."

"That's true,” he paused, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

“To New York. I’m coming with you.”

You felt your heart pound in your chest, eyes tearing up with relief.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. I convinced Jimin to go with us and we found a studio space in the city that’s just perfect. I’m coming with you.”

You were full-on crying as you kissed his lips. You had never been so happy in your life.

“I love you so much, Jung Hoseok.”

“And I love you.”

For a moment, the universe was perfect.

#fwlbingo #ficswithluv #hoseok #fluff #1k #outro:ego #bulletproof bingo

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namjuicyy · 5 years ago

Text

Sweet Night

.: Sweet Night :.

Taehyung x Gender Neutral!Reader

Your best friend is due to get married on Friday and you’re his best person. But what happens when the dynamic changes?

ficswithluv | masterlist | requests are open

Words: 4.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of depression; a disgusting amount of pining; reader and Tae being absolute idiots; implied smut (so Tae’s cheating);

S u n d a y

It was so cliche; being forced to share a bed in this tiny log cabin with your best friend. Seokjin just assumed that because you and Tae were so close you'd both be more than happy to share a double for the weekend. Hell, you'd done it ever since you were little and still sometimes to this day, so why would this weekend be any different? It shouldn't be. Yet there you lay in the darkness, wide awake and listening to Taehyung's breathing as he slept behind you, holding you close to his body as he had done every time you shared a bed since you were children. Arguably it's your fault he can't sleep without cuddling something - but you refuse to accept that accusation.

You weren't quite sure when things began to change for you; when you stopped seeing Taehyung as the greasy little boy with a boxy smile who used to terrorise the neighbour's cat under the guise of loving it and began seeing him as a beautiful young man, who wore that same smile whilst terrorising you. You didn't know when you started to fall helplessly and irrevocably in love with him. It just seemed that one morning you woke up and - poof! - feelings. What you didn't know was that there was a storm raging behind you inside the mind of the very man you had fallen for.

He was awake, eyes open in the darkness and staring at the back of your head as his mind screamed at him in the silence. Like you, he assumed his best friend was asleep and did his best not to disturb you with the never ending torture he was putting himself through. You'd gotten softer as you got older. There was more of you to grab, more of you to snuggle into. Your hair smelled like the cherry blossoms on Jeju Island and it took him back to the Spring you'd spent together on the island while the blossoms were in bloom. Pink petals fell on your hair as they blew off the trees. You turned to look at him and he could have sworn he was shot in the backside with one of Cupid's arrows. You were the most beautiful, most perfect creature he had ever laid his eyes on. He was able to pinpoint the exact moment he realised he was in love with you - it was then. When you were enthralled by the beauty of the nature surrounding you and paying no mind to him. When you were smiling brightly and taking photos with your own camera. He had to take a photo of you while you were so happy; so serene and peaceful.

You weren't allowed near his phone after that day, which was peculiar for the two of you as you'd both been so open with one another since the beginning. The reason for this was his home screen was that picture of you; his absolute favourite picture of you. You were so lost in the blossoms you hadn't noticed him taking your picture and though you were looking at his camera you weren't registering that it was in his hand. He caught your face lit up and partially hidden behind the raining petals while staring directly into his soul with adoration in his eyes. It was that picture he made sure to look at every time he did something on his phone. And it was that picture that remained in his data every single day for two years straight.

But God forbid he ever told you how he felt. Neither of you wanted to ruin this perfect relationship you had with each other and both of you assumed that confessing would do that. You both would rather each other in your lives as a friend than not at all. Which was, perhaps, an even worse thing to do as both of you were miserable and constantly pining after one another.

The members tried to get involved - tried to force you two to confess to each other on multiple occasions; and you almost did. However, the announcement of his most recent girlfriend stopped you and landed you in a month-long episode of depression. He was still with her - they were actually engaged, which was odd considering he was sharing a bed with you right now. Yet nothing would ever happen between you. In your eyes he was in love with her and in his eyes you didn't love him like he loved you.

You remember the day he told you the bad news.

"We're actually getting married." He announced over dinner when it was just the two of you.

You spat your drink out over him. "M-married? As in, in love forever, will one day have 2.5 kids in a three bedroom apartment crawling with dogs and dirty nappies married? Not married as in fake married to shut your parents up married?"

Tae laughed, his boxy smile making you melt. "As in through sickness and in health, richer for poorer until death do us part married, yes."

The richer for poorer line didn't sit well with you. "You asked her already?" He nodded in response. "And she said yes?"

"Don't act so surprised - I am quite the catch you know."

"What else is wrong with the girl besides the obvious?"

Tae groaned, "___."

"I'm sorry. Congratulations are in order, dude! I'm pleased for you." That was a blatant lie. He'd only been dating her for two years. He was only twenty-five... well, twenty-seven in Korean age which made more sense when you thought about it, but still.

"I actually wanted to ask you something."

"You want the funeral song played at the wedding? Sure thing."

"___!" Tae sighed but he was grinning a little at your joke. "We're going to be having a more Westernised wedding than traditional Korean. Obviously we will have the traditional Korean elements like the paebaek but we're going to be taking a more Western spin on it. So I was wondering if you would be my best man - or rather, best person."

You grit your teeth and swallowed the lump in your throat. Force a smile, force a smile! "Of course, Tae-Tae. I'd be honoured."

Cut to you crying on Yoongi's shoulder at 4am because you couldn't bear to go through with the role you had been given yet had no option but to go through with it. You couldn't breathe. You felt like you were trapped and the worst part about it all was that you made this prison yourself. The bars were made with all the words you never said with a lock made from the silence you hid behind. You could scream and scream and scream all you wanted but it was almost too late. You were too late.

This weekend getaway was a macabre farewell to Taehyung's "single" life given that the wedding was on Friday. Everything was all planned out and ready. Rehearsals had been completed. Outfits were chosen. He was really going through with this.

You turned in Taehyung's arms to look at his sleeping face only to be met with his eyes fully open and staring at you.

"I thought I could feel a creep watching me." You teased.

"Your snoring kept me awake. I was thinking of all the ways to kill you so I could get some peace and quiet."

"Oh wow, you can think? I wondered what that burning smell was."

"Hey! I'm smart, you know."

"Oh yeah? What's your IQ?"

"130."

"Alright fine."

"Not just a pretty face."

"I wouldn't even call you that."

"You're cruisin' for a bruisin', young lady."

"Ooh 'young lady'. Sorry, daddy. I'll try to behave."

The smile that was once on Taehyung's face slowly disappeared. He wasn't his usual bubbly self and he hadn't been for the last few weeks. Every time you asked him what was wrong, he automatically answered with "pre-wedding jitters. I'm fine." You knew Taehyung, though; and he wasn't fine. You've seen him when he's fine and he certainly isn't fine now. "Talk to me." You demanded gently. He hesitated. "You know I'm just going to keep asking until you tell me the truth."

"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing by marrying her."

"Are you in love with her?"

He was silent for a moment. "I do love her. I'm just not in love with her. That title belongs with someone else."

"So if you aren't in love with her - which you should be, by the way, if you're marrying her - then why would you marry her when you could be perfectly happy with someone else?"

"I don't want to hurt her - and I don't want to throw away my future and the possibility of being a dad one day for a chance with someone else when I'm fairly confident they don't love me back."

"Have they told you that they don't love you?"

"Well... no."

"Well then, there you go."

"They also haven't told me that they do love me like that, though."

"What do you want, Tae?"

"I want... happiness. I want to get married to someone I actually adore rather than someone I couldn't say no to."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't tell you the whole truth. I didn't tell anyone. I didn't ask her to marry me. She asked me to marry her. I couldn't say no to her and risk losing the relationship I grew comfortable in."

"Why lie?"

"I didn't want to be judged. I know you wouldn't I just... I don't know. It felt like the right thing to do."

"Tae-"

"I know' I need to make a decision. I just don't want to. I'm comfortable here."

"Here?"

"In this room where no one can get me in a warm bed next to someone who means the world to me." You didn't know what to say so you decided to remain quiet. That sounded somewhat like a confession but you couldn't get your hopes up. What if it wasn't a confession? What if he was just being his usual, beautiful self? You still weren't confident enough to ask him or tell him your own fragile truth. He was so brave for laying himself bare like that. How could you ever compare? "Would it be alright if I pulled you closer?"

Actions spoke louder than words did, so instead of waiting for him to pull you towards him, you snuggled into his body allowing your head to bury itself in his neck. Even for you two this wasn't normal best friend behaviour.

Do it. Your brain egged you on. Tell him. Now! Yet you still couldn't do it. Even though you had the perfect opportunity to, you just couldn't confess everything to him. You couldn't be as brave as he was just now. What was wrong with you?

"It's your turn." He told you, as though he could read your thoughts. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"It's empty up here, Tae. You know this."

"Hey." Tae pushed you away a little but gently so as not to offend or startle you. "I'm the only one who's allowed to pick on you.

You didn't know who leaned in first. It could very well have been you but time seemed to alter as your lips moved towards one another. They connected; it was gentle at first but things soon began to heat up. You allowed Taehyung to use his tongue as he kissed you, as your bodies pressed together ever tighter until there was no room left. You've read that kissing your best friend was supposed to feel like kissing a sibling - it was meant to feel disgusting and wrong - yet you both couldn't pull away from each other as though strong magnets had been placed in your lips and connected as you kissed. In fact, though you could feel your heart racing and his hands wandering your body, your brain cleared itself of everything. It didn't allow you to concentrate on the fact that you were kissing the man you've loved for a long time. Nor did it remind you that said man had a fiancée waiting for him at home; whom he didn't love and could never. It never occurred to you to tell him to stop even when he started to slot himself in between your legs, when you let him cum inside you and when you held each other to sleep that night finally holding one another as you'd wanted to for years.

You were disappointed on Monday morning when he wasn't beside you when you woke up. You were dejected to discover he wasn't even in the house and you were upset when you found out he returned home alone.

T u e s d a y

Taehyung hadn't spoken to you since Sunday night when you both gave yourselves to one another. To be completely honest, you hadn't tried to get in contact with him either. Sunday had felt so right that you had assumed, perhaps foolishly, that he would end things with his fiancée and would come crawling to you dismayed at hurting her but excited for your future together. You thought you'd see him Monday evening after spending time with her yet you were well into the late hours of Tuesday evening and you'd not heard a peep. Not a single word from him or about him from any of your mutual friends. You didn't know what was going on but you knew that things were awkward between the two of you - and that the wedding was still going ahead. You knew this because his fiancée had sent you a reminder three minutes ago via email that tomorrow was the final wedding rehearsal and that everyone had to be there.

T h u r s d a y

You didn't show up to the final rehearsal - how could you? You had slept with the bride's fiancée and that was the ultimate crime you could commit. How could you show your face to everyone after consenting to such an insensitive act? How could Taehyung more importantly. It was his fault just as much as it as yours and yet his conscience had allowed him to turn up unashamedly pretending to be the dutiful future husband while little did his precious bride-to-be he had been balls deep in someone else.

There was a knock at your door not three hours after the wedding rehearsal had ended and much to your surprise, Park Jimin stood there holding a bag of Tupperware boxes containing your share and the leftovers of the wedding feast. The moment he saw your puffy eyes and your distant smile he knew something big had happened. He had no idea how bad the damage was, but "Tae looks exactly like you do." He told you. "He wasn't himself at the wedding rehearsal but he wouldn't tell me why. Which isn't like him. What happened? Did you two have a falling out or something?"

"Not exactly."

It took Jimin all of three seconds to piece together what would have happened. If you hadn't had an argument, but you both aren't speaking and you didn't show up to the rehearsal today it could only mean one thing. "When did it happen?"

"Sunday night."

"Have you spoken since then?"

"No."

"Why?"

"He obviously doesn't want to, Jimin. If he did then I may have shown up today or at least I'd know where I stand with him. If he wanted me around he would have made an effort but he obviously doesn't. Anyway, it's probably for the best that the slut that fucked her best friend five days before his wedding doesn't show up. I couldn't face tomorrow before all of this happened, how am I supposed to now?"

"By talking to him? Calling him? Ask him to come over so you can talk face-to-face."

"I don't know if I can. It still wouldn't change anything, would it? He would still marry her tomorrow."

"You don't know that."

"I do. That's it now. He no longer wants me around."

Jimin, by the time he left your place that night was absolutely furious. He was angry at you for moping around and not contacting Tae. He was angry at Tae for even getting married to that woman in the first place when it was obvious he was in love with you; and he was livid at Taehyung for not contacting you after the both of you slept together to hash it out and see where your relationship was going to end up. So he contacted Tae himself and gave him an earful down the phone.

Taehyung had no intention of changing his plans.

F r i d a y

You were meant to be at the wedding today but of course you couldn't do it. Simply bringing yourself out of bed should have been enough today let alone watching the man you were desperately in love with marry someone else. Everything hurt; your head, your bones, your heart. How could something as simple as someone getting married take such a toll on your body?

Midday rolled around - the wedding should be starting now. You poured yourself another glass of wine and tried to bury yourself in a horror movie. Your usual self-care movie featured couples happily in love and you couldn't do that to yourself. So instead you opted for movies where couples were horrifically killed in multiple different ways. Yes, this will do just nicely.

Your phone had been ringing all day to the point where you put it on silent and turned it over so you couldn't see the display screen and see which member of the wedding party was trying to get in touch with you today. Going awol was the best thing you could do. Lying would have hurt you more, and turning up may have been deadly. Instead you kept your curtains closed and your phone as far away from you as possible.

That was when you heard it - rapid knocks at the door that forced you out of your blanket burrito on the couch and towards the front door. Had you known who it was you wouldn't have answered the door. Had you known more trouble would come by opening the door you wouldn't have left your spot on the sofa.

Her.

On your doorstep Tae's fiancée stood wearing her puffy, princess wedding dress and makeup running down her face. You know how much money was spent on the artists to put her face together and there it all went rolling down her cheeks.

"Where is he?" She sobbed at you.

"If he's not with you, love then I haven't got a clue."

"He's normally with you when he's hiding from me. He must be in here somewhere."

"Well," you stepped aside, "you're more than welcome to come in and look for him but all you'll find that's keeping me company is my own filth."

"So if he isn't here then where is he?"

"I haven't spoken to him since Sunday, honey. I've no idea. Now, please can you leave so I can wallow in self-pity and you can go ahead and get married?"

"Don't you get it, yet? The wedding's off! He left me at the altar. No one can get in touch with him. No one knows where he is."

This wasn't like Taehyung to just disappear without telling anyone where he was. You knew him better than anyone. At a time like this, if no one could find him it meant he needed to think. He always went to think sat in the grounds of Gyeongbokgung Palace in Seoul. Since moving to Seoul from Daegu, he had always enjoyed the traditional palaces because of how quiet they were, and how you couldn't hear or see the modern world. It was serene and peaceful and when he had taken the right precautions to cover his face he was unrecognisable and left alone. You had no doubt he'd be there.

"I know."

"Would you go to him?"

"No. I'll tell Jimin where he is and Jimin can go."

"___, please. You're the only one he listens to and talks to. Please."

You relented and did as she asked. Maybe if you could save their relationship the guilt would stop eating you alive. Though, of course, this wasn't guaranteed and there was an even higher chance that you'd end up hurting a lot more for this - and even lose Taehyung forever; but this seemed like the right thing to do. So you showered quickly, dressed and left the house with wet hair making your way to the palace.

You were entering the grounds taking in the smells of nature when you noticed the cherry blossoms. You hadn't realised they were in bloom yet. You were so preoccupied in your little problems you'd forgotten the seasons still changed around you. The palace was so much more beautiful now there was a dusting of pink sprinkled around the grounds. You could fully understand why Taehyung enjoyed coming to this place to think and relax.

You saw him sat there - to you he stuck out like a sore thumb but the tourists completely ignored his presence. Knowing he'd run if he saw you, you took the longer route to get to him, joining him on the bench without asking too afraid he'd get up and walk away before you had chance to say your peace.

"Shouldn't you be getting married now?" You asked him when you'd been sat beside him a little while.

"I wondered how long it would take for you to get summoned. Who was it? Jiminie? Namjoonie-hyung?"

"The woman you left at the altar."

"Ah."

"Though I have to say, I didn't think I'd see a woman in a wedding dress on my doorstep... ever. Thank you for that first."

"You're welcome - I know it's what you've always wanted."

"So why did you do it? Why aren't you getting married today?"

"I had too much to think about."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Taehyung," you said sternly, "don't you dare. You fucked me not even a week ago then shut me out of your life to the point where I thought you didn't want me in it anymore. You then proceed to shut everyone else out, leave your bride at the altar so she comes knocking on my door looking like an absolute mess and dragging me out of my blanket burrito to bring your moping ass back to her, and you aren't even offering me an explanation to tell me why all of this has happened. Neither of us are leaving until I get the answers I'm looking for, Tae. Even if it means we're sat here all night. You're opening up and that's final."

"I fucked up big time, didn't I?" He asked quietly. "You don't have to say it - I know. I've ruined everything because I was afraid. I was afraid to hurt her, afraid to hurt you. Eomma got so excited when I told her I was getting married and I've disappointed her."

"You definitely haven't disappointed your mum, Tae. Not by not getting married anyway. She knows you will one day - she just wants you to be happy and loved. That's all any of us want."

"I got scared." He told you. At this point tears were beginning to form in his eyes. He pitied himself and his decisions of course, but those tears weren't for him. The tears were for everyone he thought he'd disappointed but hurt in the process. "I had what I thought I wanted but when I had that I discovered it wasn't what I wanted at all. I thought I loved her - I thought I wanted to marry her and spend the rest of my life with her. It turns out, though, I wanted you instead... and then I had you - finally! Do you know how long I waited to have you? Everything became too real, though, and it freaked me out. It showed me that I wanted you... that my feelings for you hadn't gone and that I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life but I couldn't end it because I couldn't hurt her and I-" He took a deep breath but he began to sob. "I just wanted a forever, and now my forever's falling down and I can't stop it. I'm sorry, ___. I'm so, so sorry!"

His head fell on your shoulder as he wept harder, drawing more attention to him than perhaps he intended but still people didn't realise who he was. Or if they did they let him be which you were grateful for. There was a huge part of you that couldn't believe Tae had just confessed. After all these years of pining and wanting him finally he could be yours. All you had to do was tell him. "Tae, you have absolutely no idea just how much I adore you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you - maybe even marry you if things go well. I love you. I want you too. But you're still engaged."

Taehyung blinked. "I'm not. She doesn't know it yet but I'm ending things with her. You're right, it wasn't fair of me to do that to her. She deserves better than someone who only wants her because he's too afraid to be lonely."

"I'm proud of you, even if you are the world's biggest idiot sometimes."

"Would I - would I ever have a chance with you? You know, when I'm not officially engaged."

"Do you not want to spend some time being single first?"

"I was pretty much single with her. It feels like I'm about to hurt a friend - not a fiancée."

"Take me on a date first and we'll talk about it. And no, before you ask McDonald's does not count as a date."

"You're such a loser."

"Yeah but you love me."

"And you love me."

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