#but all proceeds will go to the families of the first responders who were hurt on April 29 during a police shootout in east Charlotte. RELA

[brewscoop]

Support our heroes! More than 10 local brewers are hosting an event next week to raise money for the first responders who were hurt in an ambush on police in late April. Enjoy craft beer, delicious food, and live music while contributing to a great cause! Don't miss the Craft Brewers Charity Event on Saturday, July 27 at Norfolk Hall at Suffolk Punch Brewing in South End. Let's come together and make a difference for the families of the brave first responders. See you there!

[navstuffs]

ezio auditore x shy!fem!reader ?

Il Dottoressa

Pairing: AC2!Ezio x ShyFem!Reader

Summary: Ezio has a crush on you, the doctor's daughter; or where Ezio gets hurt on purpose to see you.

Warnings: non-canon compliance, non-history compliance (i had to adapt), LONG ONE-SHOT, no description of reader, FLUFF, blood, injuries, italian translated using translator

Author's Notes: hii, thank you so much for requesting <3! i hope you enjoy reading it because i had tons of fun writing it! just a reminder: my requests for ezio are still open! click here for more info!

You should consider yourself a lucky woman. Your father Giuseppe was a man of Science, a doctor who always cared about your well-being and education, especially after your mother's death. He didn't obligate you to wed or have kids like most parents.

For him, for you to carry the family's legacy was to become a doctor. So you did your best to learn as much as possible, in secret. To the rest of society, your father suggested you be portrayed just as his errand daughter. Nobody knew the full extent of your abilities. So you advised treatments, assisted your dad in the shop he had, and turned out to be every child's favorite doctor. They were easier to talk to than most adults. You meet Ezio on your first day alone at the shop. Your dad had to help a patient with an urgent matter in another town and gave you clear instructions on how to proceed.

"They will try to bargain but do not drop the price too much. Let them think they got a deal."

The day went by relatively easy. Two regular clients pass by to get some medicine and talk a little. After a few hours of boredom, you open a book and let your eyes wander through the pages. Your dad may allow you to help with surgery next time if you gather more knowledge. You also needed to focus on having a steady hand...

"Scusi."

Startled by the sudden voice, you held your book close to your chest so it wouldn't fall. When you turn around, you immediately recognize the man: Ezio Auditore. Your dad had alerted you about him: the questionable man with a white robe and hood that always paid the total price. Your dad ordered you not to over-extend the conversation with the strange man. Your attention goes to his arm, where he was holding a torn, bloody sleeve. You don't need to predict he will ask you for a curative. You point to the chair, and Ezio sinks into the chair.

You get some alcohol and some clean cloths. You have no reason to be afraid or nervous; you are in the middle of town, and the man won't do anything. And now, most importantly, he was a patient.

Ignoring your internal concerns, you focused on working. His torn sleeve was soaked with blood, but you no longer saw any blood dropping out of the cut, so you concentrated on cleaning the blood from the injury with alcohol. Like most people, Ezio didn't react to the pain, so you continued. Then you begin to wrap his arm in a bandage. That cut had to be done with a sharp spear.

"Where is the other Signore that stays here?" Ezio asked, his voice sounding tired.

"My father had business somewhere else," You responded, focusing on finishing the bandage. When you are done, you make sure it was all secured. Looked perfect.

"So I won't lose my arm anytime soon, Signorina?" Ezio attempted to joke, giving you a faint smile, and you ignored him. You placed your stuff on the shop's cart and waited as he checked your work.

"Grazie. I haven't seen any women doctors around town. What is your name?"

"It will be 30 florins, Signore."

"Va bene," Ezio put the money in your hand, and you counted. It seems he gave you an extra five florins. He was already gone when you lifted your head, disappearing in the middle of the people. You want to call his name and catch up to him, but you shake your head. He either purposely did that, or it was just a mistake. 

After that day, your dad decided you could stay in the shop alone. You were so excited and thrilled. Your dad could now go to another town as a doctor while you cared for his business. 

You glow with pride and happiness. You see Ezio Auditore once or twice, jumping around buildings, doing who-knows. He didn't seem to notice you, which you thanked mentally. You had asked your dad what exactly Ezio was doing, and your dad affirmed it was neither your business nor his to know, it just looked dangerous. Ezio only appeared in his shop with parts of his body hurt, cut, bruised, or broken more than the average person. As curious as you are to ask, you understand your dad is done with this conversation.

The next time you see Ezio, he has a dislocated shoulder. You try to give him something to bite, but he shakes his head, gritting his teeth. You want to ask how he got this, but it is not your place. When you pop his shoulder back into place, Ezio grunts. You recommend that he avoid using that shoulder for more vigorous activities. Ezio gives you a half-smile as if he knows something you don't.

"It will be 50 florins this time."

You feel he gives you more florins when he hands you the money.

"You are giving me too much, Signore."

"As a thank you. Can't I do that?"

You don't really know how to respond to that. It is his money. Extra money even. Before you can answer, he grabs your hand and kisses it lightly. You freeze in your spot, unable to move.

"Name is Ezio Auditore. Can you tell me yours?"

It is your first time giving a good look at Ezio Auditore. He seems to have brown hair. He has a scar across his lips, now with what appears to be a naughty smile, which just makes him more charming. He is staring at you, really staring at you. You want to protest, but your voice dies down your throat. You gulp, trying to find something to say, but nothing comes out.

"We shall see each other around, Dottoressa."

And you do end up seeing him, now what it seemed once at least every week. Ezio appears with a horrible bruise on his back and watches, delighted, as you look away, mortified, when he lifts his robe. He appears a few days later with a raspy cough. Then, comes back three days later, alleging he fell to his head and had a horrible headache. You want to ask him if there are no other doctors in town, but hold your tongue. And Ezio was sincerely trying to make you smile and laugh most of the time.

Like when he appeared with a bow attached to his back. You took it out carefully, ensuring you didn't hurt him too much or cause him to die. Besides, you were thankfully thanking his presence at this point: the rate Ezio got injured, he would end up being your first surgery.

"Does it look like I die today, Dottoressa?" He exclaims as you finish cleaning the hole. Why he has to say that in such a sexy way?

"Not today, Signore Auditore."

"Ezio," He corrects you, as the other times, and you roll your eyes, ignoring him. When you are done, Ezio gives you more money than he should.

"I should not go far, probably. I will get hurt and come here for you to repair me." You answer him with a half-smile, too nervous to say anything else. You know he is getting hurt on purpose; he probably knows that as well, and instead of sending him away, you continue seeing him.

"Oh, mhm, I almost forgot," Ezio taps his body, takes out a book, and handles it to you. It seems to be about different kinds of poisons and diseases.

"What is this?"

"For you, Dottoressa. I have seen you read books about it and presumed you would like it."

You are surprised, flipping over the book with care. It looks expensive and updated. That would help you so much with your studies. You couldn't believe Ezio got you something like this.

"Signore Ezio, I can't accept it. "

"Per favore?" Ezio's voice sounds like he imploring, "You have done so much for me. It is the least I can do."

You want to say no and argue that he has already given you more money than he should, but Ezio appears so anxious for your answer. You feel the heavy book in your hands, and your desire gets the best of you. You nod, and Ezio's worried expression turns into a big smile.

"I will see you around, Dottoressa."

"Grazie, Ezio." You finally say when he is too far away to hear it.

After that, your relationship with Ezio got closer. Although you hadn't said your name, he seemed satisfied to watch you flustered when he called you "Mia Dottoressa favorita" or "Il Dottoressa Bella." Or when he continued to bring you more books. When you finally open them at home, they would have different flowers inside.

It wasn't hard to keep all of that hidden from your dad. Your father was out of town almost daily, traveling around Italy. It was also challenging to just not tell Ezio your name. Before, it was for your sense of security, but now, there wasn't much reason to keep it hidden. Ezio was nearly like a friend. Yes, he could be cocky and a little show-off, but he also had a gentle and entertaining side. He could listen to you speak for hours about how crazy the human body could be. He never interrupted you or seemed bored. On the contrary, it was like nothing else existed except for you. 

"Are you going to be a Dottoressa at the end?"

"Si, Signore Ezio. Your books are helping me a lot." You confessed, feeling breathless like always when he was around. Gathering all your courage, you finally ask him, "Can I ask you something?"

"Si?" Ezio's gaze looks full of hope.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to. Why are you always so hurt? Who are you fighting?"

Ezio ponders for a moment before answering.

"For mi familia. I would tell you more, but- " You certainly felt like you shouldn't have asked now. Idiota, you think.

"Well, if that might help you... I am your Dottoressa after all."

"Oh, you are my Dottoressa?" The way he emphasized the word my! You wish a hole had just opened in the ground so that it could eat you as a whole. This was something regular now: Ezio always says or does something to leave you without words. One of those days, you will gather all your courage and do the same to him. 

But until then, you are happy that Ezio sticks around. Always afraid he will be one of these days badly hurt, and you won't be around to help him. You could only hope he would always come back to you.

EPILOGUE:

You are almost home when a few guards rush in your direction, screaming and pointing at the sky. With your heart shrinking, you look up, wishing that Ezio is safe tonight. Almost at your door, you hear a loud thumb next to a haystack pile. Looking around and assuring there is no one, you investigate the origin of the noise. To your surprise, you see Ezio badly injured. You run to kneel at his side, checking the extension of his wounds. It doesn't look well.

Merda merda.

"Ezio? Can you hear me?" He is semi-conscious, his eyes struggling to stay open. You can hear more guards getting close. With no choice and all your strength, you pull his body towards the haystack, hiding and praying that the guards won't see the trail of blood behind you.

The guards finally arrive, and your heart bumps against your chest as they investigate everywhere. You feel Ezio's rapid breath as you lightly place your hand on his chest as if keeping you there alive with you.

Ezio moans low, and you bend to his ear, whispering frantically.

"Shhh, I am here, Ezio, it is me. We will be okay."

When the guards finally leave, after what seems to take an eternity, you leave the haystack pile, making sure no one is around. Not hearing anyone, you hurry back to Ezio, attempting to make him fully conscious.

"Ezio, per favore, you have to focus on me. On my voice. We need to get you out of there, we need to bring you inside!"

"Dottoressa?" His voice sounds so weak it just breaks your heart. You hold his cheek, and his skin feels hot. A fever? What if he has been poisoned? You have to get him in your house, but you are afraid to pull him, and he dies, afraid you might be found by the Guards, and he dies. 

There is no time for this, Dottoressa. This is your patient, and you better save him. 

You pull Ezio's body with your arms to your house entrance. With difficulty, you place him on an old sofa-like, not caring about the mess. With not a lot of options, you rip his destroyed robe and his shirt. At this point, Ezio is shaking with cold, despite his body being extremely hot. You start disinfecting his injuries, checking how bad they are. It doesn't seem that he was punctured. While you clean, you notice the rest of his body for damages. You take his boots out, and with hands shaking, you rip his pants. Praying mentally for no injuries, you cut until his upper thigh. Nothing. Relieved, you focus on his head, letting go of his ponytail. No extensive injuries. Good. You continue cleaning and give him some medicine for his fever, covering his body with a clean sheet.

You let yourself get distracted by how long his hair is. You always theorized it was much shorter. You pass your finger through his hair, and Ezio lets out a long sigh. 

You know the following hours will be crucial. Ezio might react badly; you must stay awake if he needs you. If he was poisoned, he might respond during the night. You bring a chair close to Ezio, watching him peacefully sleep. You implore him to survive. You plead for him to be healthy. 

When Ezio wakes up in the morning, he is immediately aware of being in a strange house, not a cell. He tries to move, but his body just hurts so much. Last night, when he was on his way to see you with a small cut on his finger, he ended up getting in the middle of a mess. After fighting his way out, he was still followed. Tired and exhausted, he didn't know the extent of his injuries until he passed out and fell from the top of a building.

He examines around, finding you sound asleep in a chair. How he ended up there? Ignoring the pain in his body, Ezio sits down, roaming his eyes through his body. It could have been worse. He lifts the sheet, notices you cut his pants down and chuckles low. That seems to wake you up, and Ezio feels slightly guilty about it. 

"Dottoressa?" He calls you. You promptly get up, touching his head and arms to check for any signs of fever. Looks normal. You were glad you didn't choose the leeches last night.

"How are you feeling, Ezio?"

"I am fine, probably thanks to you. How?"

"I heard something falling from a building last night. When I went to check, I saw you badly injured. Had to hide in a haystack while the guards were looking for you. Brought you here and kept an eye on you for the rest of the night."

"How come if you have slept, Dottoressa?" He jokes, and you laugh, glad to see him alive.

"Now I owe you my life. How much is this even going to cost me, Dottoressa? Am I going bankrupt?" Ezio questions in a teasing tone.

"N-no? I am just glad you are alright, Ezio. I was so afraid last night that you were going to di-"

"You saved me, mia bella. Just to prove you should be my particular Dottoressa. Not anybody else's. Mine." He provokes you again, confident that you wouldn't answer.

"Do you want me? To be just yours?" It is funny to watch Ezio lose all the color on his face. For the first time, he is the stunned one, left without an answer, "What happened, Ezio Auditore? Is something wrong with your tongue? Should I check for you?"

You don't know if it is last night's stress or Ezio looking like he is losing his mind, but you laugh until your belly hurts. Ezio is confused at first but smiles, understanding your joke.

"Very good, mia cara. Very good. Joking with my feelings like that. I could have died last night, you know."

Cleaning the tears in the corner of your eyes, you pull your chair close to his. Ezio observes, curious, while you grab and hold his hand into yours.

"I wasn't joking when I said I could be yours."

Your confession makes Ezio's mouth drop slightly, but he quickly recomposes himself. He cleans his throat, with his other free hand calling you closer. You get up from the chair, your legs shaking, and he starts by caressing your chin. You close your eyes, and Ezio follows his touch to your cheeks and lips. He traces your lips with his fingers, admiring you as the most beautiful piece of art he has ever seen.

You melt in his arms when he brings you closer and finally kisses you. Holding into his shoulder gently, you kiss him back, letting yourself fully stroke his hair. Ezio's hands are placed on your cheeks. When you two finally break apart, you are both breathless, wishing for more. Your heart, your soul, asks for more.

"Dottoressa.."

You shake your head, smiling, and finally tell Ezio your name.

MASTERLIST | EZIO'S MASTERLIST

[beheworthy]

For such a vividly colorful film, I thought Thor: Love and Thunder got color symbolism wrong mostly. Especially in the pivotal boat scene between Thor and Jane. Thor's face is mostly lit in purple (transformation) and Jane's face in red (passion) - colors that were opposite at best and completely wrong at worst.

But the one scene where the use of colors - or rather their lack - shines is the entire Shadow Realm sequence. The stark difference stands out because the rest of the film is so filled to the brim with colors and reinforces how scary Gorr is.

We're coming off the high of Thor and Jane rekindling their relationship going into this scene. I knew there was going to be a face off but I didn't expect it to be this one-sided. Valkyrie is the only one who gets to respond, both Thor and Jane are not allowed to say anything at all. He literally has them restrained and silenced. And when he gets the stage to himself, he shows how sadistic and cruel he is.

First, he tries to pry open Thor's hand to call Stormbreaker. When Thor resists, Gorr is actually impressed - 'some God you are'. He responds by firmly closing Thor's fist and proceeding to torture his girlfriend. Thor WILL have to give in now but this time he will not be able to open his fist. Gorr incites pure panic and desperation in Thor, just for fun. And then goes ahead and labels himself and Thor as similar.

Valkyrie rightly calls him out on his hypocrisy by saying that our hero and villain are not the same. Gorr tells her that Thor's ancestors did nothing for her sisters while they died for the throne of Asgard because that's what these people are. They don't care about the people who laid down their lives for Asgard. And it's not false. Odin has historically been known to let his warriors die just to uphold Asgard's repute. Although this is something Thor very strongly takes the opposite stance on.

After making Valkyrie cry, Gorr equates himself to Jane as well in the fact that both their weapons are killing them and how wrong they're done by the Gods. How Thor used her and threw her away. Gave her nothing but hurt. And this isn't false either. He left her for 2 yrs. He hurt her when he was living with her to drive her away from him. And even now, he can't do anything for her c*ncer. His freakin' hammer is actually killing her faster.

So, turns out Gorr is actually right about Thor and his ancestors doing no good to the people who have laid their lives for them (Valkyries) and people who've loved them more than life (Jane). Which is why when Gorr is face to face with both Valkyrie and Jane, they are on equal footing as visual symbolism.

Gorr now proceeds to equate himself with Thor. He mocks him over his helplessness to save the love of his life from her illness. Gorr too was helpless over his daughter's impending death. This IS a point of equality. And yet. Gorr is distinctly framed beneath Thor and has to look up at him. They are not equals here because a) our hero and villain are not the same, obviously. And b) Gorr was certainly disregarded by the Gods he worshipped. But Jane wasn't by Thor. He made her life 'magical', in her own words. He gave her life so much more meaning, furthered her journey, and gave her a world of happiness. He is her happiness.

Gorr actually has to climb some steps to put himself on the same footing as Thor. And now when he says 'I know your pain, love in pain', they're visual equals because Gorr propped himself up. And this time, it's true. Thor's love, not just for his girlfriend he is destined to lose, but for every single person he has lost IS his pain.

So it's understandable why he gives in and calls Stormbreaker for Jane despite Valkyrie's disapproval. Jane is the last family he has left. He cannot lose her again. After having to watch every single loved one die in front of him and for him, he just doesn't have it in him to watch his last hope also be snatched away from him. So he selfishly makes the call, risking the captured children and much bigger things (as well as later failing to keep Stormbreaker and worsening everything).

And by making the call, Thor ultimately proves Gorr right about how selfish the Gods are.

[gojo-enthusiast]

Master Zenin - Toji Fushiguro Series — Reblog & Like🫶🏻 Read new Chapters Above 👆🏻

Chapter Two

After what felt like forever, you feel the vehicle come to a stop, the men who were once quietly talking to each other quit. And you hear your door open. Being dragged out, you kept thinking— “okay let me drag my feet, maybe I can get away.” Then you are tossed over the shoulders of one of the men. “You’re not the first one to think of pulling a stunt. Stay still pretty girl.” He says with a voice that seemed as evil as a snake.

Finally after a couple minutes, you are sitting on something, the blind fold taken off of your eyes, and cloth removed from your mouth. It takes your eyes time to adjust, the bright fluorescent lights above you, causing your eyes to burn. Noticing you are in what looks like an examination room in a hospital, felt sterile and cold, no source of life.

“Here let me dim those for you.” You hear a woman say, she dims the lights— you look over at her, her name tag saying “Dr. Shoko Ieiri”

“Hello, I’m Dr. Shoko Ieiri, please call me Shoko. I am not here to hurt you. I am not going to tell you anything that is not my place to say. I am here solely to examine you and get you prepared for Master Zenin. Do you understand?” She says, almost in a rehearsed manner. “Where am I?” You ask, your voice sounding so hoarse. “We are at Master Zenin’s estate. You are Y/N Y/L/N correct?” She asks, “yes.” You quietly respond, “I have date of birth (Y/DOB), is that correct?” She proceeds to ask questions. “Yes.” You respond.

The list went on and on, her checking boxes, writing something’s down. “Are you sexually active?” She interrupts your thoughts— “NO!” You nearly choke out.

“Have you been sexually active in the last 6 months?” She question further, “No! I-I-“ you’re stuttering at this point, “You’re what?” She asks, lifting her head. “I’m-I-I’m a virgin.” You mumble.

“Hmm, that’s a first.” She nods, writing it down.

“I am going to take some blood samples, and we are going to run several different tests. This is going to be uncomfortable but this is how routine goes.” She says monotoned.

The test went on and on, blood work, urine, physical, CT scans, you name it. They were having to make sure the woman they bring to Toji Zenin is in pristine condition.

Here’s the thing, you knew Toji, you knew Toji very well. Your father and him were colleagues for many years, for a law firm your father owned, Toji was one of the partners. Your father was like a father to Toji, mentoring him, teaching him everything about law. Toji joined your family and friends for barbecues, family vacations, he was even there for when your sister was born. When Toji brought up the idea to your father, your father was flabbergasted, telling Toji that his idea was wrong. There was a whole blow up fight, and ever since then, you despised the man you once had been desperately in love with.

Toji was now 32 years old, you are 21. 11 year difference, that most people would think is disgusting. But when you were young, about 15, Toji being 26, you had the hugest crush on him. The way his broad shoulders, and big arms, you would dream and fantasize about them wrapped around you. Even when on the run, you at times would wish things were back to the way they were, so you didn’t have to hate Toji the way everyone else did. It almost felt disgusting to love him, knowing the things he’s done.

Hours went by, they had you in another area of the mansion, getting showered, pampered, haircut, nails cleaned. I mean you were almost being treated like royalty, but it was only because no one was allowed to show themselves in front of such a high and powerful man, looking disheveled.

“Ma’am. Please pick what you would like to wear.” The tall woman who has a plaster of makeup says to you. You look over at the rack, shaking your head no. “You have to.” She says crossing her arms, “do you have some leggings and a sweater. This is all too much, and uncomfortable.” You say looking up. “By all means, if you show up in front of Master Zenin like that, you’ll get punished on your first day.” She scoffs. “Sounds good, maybe he’ll kill me and put me out of my fuckin’ misery.” You say snarky. You had declined any make-up or polish. Not wanting to adorn yourself, because this isn’t a fuckin’ meet & greet. This is a war between you and the man you once loved.

“You’re letting her walk out in leggings and that sweatshirt?” Shoko whisper shouts, “yeah I mean that’s what she wanted. I don’t fucking care.” The tall blonde woman says. “Toji is gonna kill someone. He made it very clear to me, to give her the best.” Shoko says shaking her head, “well I don’t fucking care. She wants what she wants, can I go now?” The woman says, Shoko waving her off.

“Why are you being stubborn?” She asks you,

“I’m not being stubborn, I simply am uncomfortable with this pampering when my freedom and life is taken from me. The least you people can do is let me pick my own god damn clothes.” You scoff, “You fuckin’ monkey.” You add, that was your way of saying Shoko was a follower, listening to everything they were saying so they would reap rewards. “We all have to live somehow.” She says, walking you to the private room.

“Wait here.” She says, while you are walking into this private bedroom, and then Shoko shutting the door as she walks out.

“What is this fucking life man? Mom, dad, sister… I miss you guys. I wish I could hold you all. I wish you could hear me.” You say, as tears start to fall from your cheek. You didn’t know if your father was alive, you didn’t know if your sister was happy, or if your mom slept okay. The last time you heard from them was when they arrived to their destination, calling you one last time before the cell towers were taken over, causing your phone to stop working. You would have to dump it anyway so you didn’t get tracked. That was 2 years ago to be exact…

Before you knew it, your body had drifted off to sleep, your exhaustion finally catching up to you, as you lied on this expensive mattress that seemed to hug every curve and cranny of your back and hips. “Fuck you Toji.” You mumble before falling off to sleep.

“I missed you y/n.” The big broad man whispered, who stood at the door watching you completely dissociate yourself from reality, and not even hear him walk in.

[naavispider]

Updating the fanfic every day is already a huge blessing, so please take your time 💙 as for the meantime, I had an prompt/idea(?) I wanted to share, but it’s rather dark so it is 100% okay if you are uncomfortable with this, I was just thinking.

(TW: mentions of self-harm but nothing graphic) Spider going through the guilt and self-hate of helping his enemies destroy his friends and family he wishes would adopt him mist feel so overwhelming, so what if he, maybe in a bathroom before bed, looks at hismself and for a split second, just a split second, the hatered for the boy in front of him becomes too much and he picks up a razor blade.

He doesn’t want to do anything to himself, not at all, it is only a split second impulsive decision that he decides against the very next second, because he is no longer that desperate at this point of the story.

Sadly, he has no time to put the blade back as Quaritch walks in (did he forget to lock the door?) and just proceeds to stare at his son with a razor blade in his hands, and Spider scrambles to explain that it’s not what it looks like.

What do you think his reaction might be? (Again, if you’re uncomfortable with such themes you absolutely don’t have to respond, taking care of one’s mental health is always a 1# priority!)

Hi! I think for sure this is a realistic idea! 🥰 I can 100% see Spider picking up a blade and just sort of staring at it, wondering what it would be like for someone to actually use it - but of course not actually really considering it himself.

I can see this happening maybe in his room or as he is sat on the top deck of the ship swinging his legs over the side. He is having a quiet moment during some downtime (in between village raids) and Quaritch just forced him to translate for the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik. His eye catches something shiny left on the floor, and he picks it up - unsure what it actually is at first. He realises it's a razor blade and turns it over in his hands.

Quaritch has been looking for Spider since he realised the boy had disappeared upon returning from the Ta'unui village. He strolls around the deck of the ship and nobody dares interrupt him in his search. Then he sees Spider. And Spider has a blade in his hands. Confusion clouds Quaritch's thoughts for only a split second before all his years of military training force him to react, protect, and ask questions later.

He almost leaps over to the child, and grabs Spider's wrist that is holding the blade, pulling it towards him. Spider shifts with the sudden pull, confusion and hurt colouring his face. "Hey!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing kid?" Quaritch growled angrily, in disbelief at what he had just seen. He held Spider's hand up, which was still holding the blade. "What is this?"

Quaritch knew the answer of course - it was a rhetorical question, but Spider scrambled to find an answer. The boy frowned, anger and probably embarrassment making his decisions for him and clouding his words. "It's not... I wasn't... Let go of me!"

Quaritch took the blade out of Spider's hand and let him go. He stood up from crouching and threw the blade as hard as he could into the ocean.

"Do not ever think about doing that." His anger suddenly gave way to to the realisation that he had no idea what to say to follow this up. Crap.

"I wasn't," Spider held his furious gaze. "I just found it on the floor."

Quaritch tried to work out if this was true. He stared hard at the child, who hadn't attempted to get up from the edge of the ship. Spider's eyes were strong, fierce. Fire blazed beneath them. He obviously believed his own words. Quaritch sighed angrily and turned away, before facing back to Spider.

"Don't scare me like that," was all he could think to say.

Spider rolled his eyes, but it looked pained. "I wouldn't," he replied seriously, and Quaritch could feel a level of truthfulness bleeding through the space between them.

"Come inside," Quaritch ended the discussion with a jerk of his head towards the airlock.

Realising he didn't have a choice, and not wishing to create more drama, Spider followed ruefully.

Huh. So Quaritch was mad. He kept showing these insane reactions - firstly when Spider had a nervous breakdown in the forest, then when he had a night terror at Bridgehead, and now when Quaritch thought that he'd been contemplating killing himself.

Spider thought back to a time he would have likely done it. Memories of a cold, hard, lonely cell returned to him.

He pushed them away. Things had changed. So much. He knew he could never do it now. It was getting easier and easier to believe that Quaritch had developed feelings for him. And harder and harder for Spider to come to terms with that.

[riahlynn101]

"Everything."

Trigger warnings: A major (very beloved) character is brutally murdered, and there's a whole bunch of other violence. Please, use your best judgement, and remember to put your mental health first :D!!

For those that want to proceed, hope you all enjoy <3

Summary: All for One goes toe-to-toe with All Might (again).

It ends in flames.

Note:

This post and all the tags underneath inspired me to write this story: https://www.tumblr.com/marunalu/715670959100690432/okay-i-dont-have-faith-about-this-but-it-would-be?source=share.

(All of the blogs shown in the post are amazing! And I can't recommend them enough!)

--

All for One has been around for a long time, and with that time, comes enemies. He’s had many. 

Various governing bodies.

A few no-name heroes that he made quick work of.

The Yakuza.

And some low-level villains that thought they could double cross him. 

But each of them was a tick on his to-do list. Nothing but hosts from which he can quirk shop. Truly only one (does it count as one if there's a never-ending line of them?) of his enemies given a run for his money. And he means that in the worst way possible. 

All Might. 

He hates the man. 

No. 

Hate is not a strong enough word. 

Loathe? 

No. 

If he had to settle on a single word, All for One would have to pick: Abominate. Yes, he abominates the showboat of a man. The stupid blond oaf with his brother’s stolen quirk. 

The man who took everything away from him. 

It must be fate that he gets to fight him once again. Kamino hadn’t been a fair fight (neither was the one before that one), but All for One is willing to let that go (no, he isn’t) for this chance to put All Might in his place. 

They make eye contact. 

All Might smiles at him. His briefcase and car unconfigure themselves into a mechanical suit, giving him the barest of protection.

He smiles back. He smiles so hard, his face hurts. 

“All Might!” He practically screams, landing hard. The ground shakes. “Come to die by my hand?!”

When All Might responds to him, his voice is muffled by the mechanical machinery - robotic and a little staticky. It reminds him of their fight in Kamino, though it had been his own voice at that time that was muffled and changed. 

“I won’t let you get to UA!”

He grits his teeth together. A familiar burning sensation builds in his chest, creeping up his throat (not yet). 

“And how, pray tell, are you going to stop me?! You playing Iron Man will slow me down - at most.”

“Slowing you down is all I need to do.”

Something twists in All for One’s chest.  

“For Midoriya Izuku?!” He asks, flinging himself out of the way of an oncoming robotic fist. He uses the split second of the suit regaining its balance to throw a punch of his own. The impact leaves his fist and funny bone ringing, but he does manage to dent some of the metal. 

“Deku-”

For a second, All for One is transported back in time.

A time where his main concern rested with wiping his son’s tear-stained face, because someone decided to dissect his wonderfully unique name and twist it into something ugly and unbefitting of someone so, so…. good….

He remembers the anger he felt upon hearing the dreaded nickname for the first time. How much his son had shook in his arms, trembling and hurt ( they hurt him. They hurt him so badly, no amount of hugs and rambling about quirks made it better.) At the time, he elected to do the morally right thing (mostly because he couldn’t risk leading anyone back to his family), and went straight to the boys’ parents. 

The group of boys were scolded and made to apologize to his son. 

His son had beamed at him. Sunny and whole again. “I think Kacchan wants to be my friend again. He said sorry, which means everything’s all better.”

Hisashi found himself secretly hoping-despite his experience of knowing how these things play out-that his son was right. Anything to keep Izuku smiling at him. That smile means everything to him. 

But….

….everything wasn’t fine after that. 

The little brats went right back to teasing and poking and prodding his son over minute differences. Every little flaw of his son’s was judged swiftly and harshly, being tied back to that horrid nickname. And that little smile he loved and coveted so much.... slowly went away. 

All for One’s throat burns - the quirk almost has a mind of its own, crawling up his oropharynx. It waits (impatiently) for its chance at being used. Too long it’s been since he could use his favorite quirk. 

“Do not,” He starts, combining a minor strength enhancer with a spike mutation, “call him that!”

All Might-the bastard-dives out of the way. His suit creaks. “That’s Young Midoriya’s hero name! Deku’s the name of a hero!”

A tear-stained face with a runny nose pops into his mind’s eye. He can see it so clearly, like his son is right in front of him. 

“Shut up!” His voice shakes the ground.

“No!” All Might gets a hit in, using the momentum from the ground shaking to get closer. “I will gladly fight to protect Deku! My boy-”

All for One thought processes screech to a halt. 

His boy? 

His boy?

No! No! No! No!

“He’s not your boy! He’s never been your boy!” 

Even behind the mask of steel, he just knows All Might is smiling. “He. Is. My. Boy!” He pauses after each word, as if giving All for One some time to process what he’s saying. “I may not be his father, but I have seen him grow! I have seen him become the best version of himself!” A metal fist makes contact with his face. It stings and he lands thirty or so feet away. “I have seen him thrive and fail! I held him after his nightmares and kept him nourished when he was out hunting you! That boy is my son!”

The burning sensation creeps upward, he can feel it in the back of his mouth. All for One suppresses it. 

His body trembles. He blames it on the effects of rewind, which seems to be slowing down (as he appears to be the same age as when he arrived but hasn’t completely disappeared because his injuries from being punched are completely gone). It’s definitely not because he feels the stabbing pain of jealousy. 

(His son replaced him.)

“How dare you!” He bellows. “You took everything from me! My empire, associates and connections, and everything in between!” He dodges another of All Might’s attacks. He airwalk to propel himself right at his nemesis. “But I could live with that!” Water drips down his cheeks. 

Is it raining? 

All Might staggers backward but struggles due to the robot’s bulky nature. 

“I’ve lived with worse! I can always rebuild my empire!” His voice shakes a little, but he doesn’t waver even the tiniest bit. He punches the front of the machine, sending it toppling to the ground. “But one thing I can never forgive you for, the only thing that can’t be replaced or rebuilt, is my family!” 

“What are you talking about!” All Might shouts, trying his best to scramble backwards. (Keyword: trying).

“My family! You-you took me away from them!” He stalks forward. “I couldn’t go home after you…” All for One swallows, looking down. “My wife and child needed me! They needed me and you took me away from them!”

When All Might speaks next, it’s not in the expected tone of a haughty hero. “I’m sorry, All for One.”

He waits for the backhanded insult, but it never comes. 

“You’re sorry?” He falters. What’s happening right now? How does he proceed? His mouth is uncomfortably warm, but nowhere in his thousands of plans did he have All Might apologizing to him. 

“Yes- sorry I couldn’t incapacitate you sooner!”

All for One is on guard once again. This- this is the tone he’s come to know. 

“I’m sure your family is better off without you in it!”

The blond oaf’s words hit him like a freight train. They hurt. They hurt and All for One wishes they didn’t! And they shouldn’t because none of it is true!

He remembers hearing the doctor’s droning voice reading his wife’s letters to him. They all more or less read the same: Izuku is inconsolable and wants his dad to come home. 

He thinks of how tightly his tiny family would cling to him after he came home. They would lay together for hours on end, watching movies, cuddled up and happy and content with each other’s presence. 

He thinks of his wife’s almost compulsive need to run her fingers through his hair. (Height difference be damned. If his wife wanted to play with his hair; she found a way). 

He thinks of his son clinging to him during thunderstorms, or after a bad dream. How they would sit on the living room couch, and Hisashi would rock his too-tiny son side-to-side.

Before he can think better of it, “fire breath” escapes his mouth. He douses the suit in flames, listening as All Might screams in pain. Being cooked alive inside a makeshift oven can’t be fun, but then again, neither was having his face ripped off. 

“You are not his father!” All for One yells over the muffled sounds of screaming. “I am! He is my boy! You are nothing! Nothing! Worthless! Nana Shimura is looking down at you in shame! Shame!” He has to pause his rant to gulp some air down. His heart beats erratically inside his chest. “Izuku Midoriya is mine!”

And, as the screaming abruptly stops, All for One sets his sights on his primary target. 

Next stop, UA! 

[ikemenomegas]

I keep thinking about this ask. Maybe it's a bit egotistical, but I keep asking myself, if I believed very strongly there was a possibility Gojo might die, why did I also proceed to write scenes and endings that have myy oc go on?

I've been very busy and haven't been able to write much, but myy oc is not watching the Gojo vs Sukuna fight, they weren't able to bring themself to watch it. This is because myy oc does not feel that Satoru is thinking of saving Megumi. They want to believe he has a plan for saving Megumi, but they aren't sure and haven't seen any evidence of one.

And then I read this meta, by one of my favorite meta posters on the whole site. And I think this is why I never started imaging scenes, once I realized this was becoming an au, where myy oc dies before Gojo.

For one, I don't think he grieves like a normal person. The best he'd be able to come up with is probably defeating whoever killed myy oc. And after responding to this ask, if you want a Shibuya death for them, it would probably happen due to Sukuna's rampage.

Myy oc doesn't die there, because where Gojo is a person who, if he was changing at all, was shifting very, very slowly, myy oc's whole deal is change, it's their power, it's in the name I use for them when I'm writing things for myself or talking about this au with with my friend.

If they die, it's going to be fighting Kenjaku because they want to do it alone. They want to spare the children the fate of killing and dying, they want to give the children a different answer than the one they found at a young age - that they were never the one who was going to be saved.

Where Gojo and Getou's journey as teenagers was finding and losing the one person who was supposed to understand them, Shoko's journey is about being left behind and underestimated left with the bloody aftermath, myy oc's journey is a little opposite. Being surrounded by strength that is sometimes working together, for the first time they believe that maybe they won't die because the people they care for survive, maybe their fate is more than death, that it's okay to fight hard enough that you survive too.

And that perspective changes. They keep in touch with their family (where Suguru kills his) and old middle school/hometown friends (even though they lie to those people about their sorcerer life).

Unlike Gojo, for whom Suguru's death signifies the end of the only person who was his equal, myy oc has already moved on, they have other people who they care for who have survived.

In the Nightmare ficlet, myy oc knows what Satoru wants - which is for the new generation to be strong enough to fight physically. What myy oc wants is for their hearts to be strong enough to open up to one another, to willingly be weak because they know they're strong enough to have others around them.

The crisis they're having right now, is that they have been deeply hurt by opening themselves up to Satoru and Megumi and Tsumiki, because all of those people are dead, or in Megumi's case, lost. Their old mentor (an oc sorcerer named Takao) wanted myy oc to be a sorcerer, first and last, and myy oc deeply resents him for it, for impressing upon their childhood that sorcery set them apart, made them dispensable, and trying to make them internalize that their life not quantifiable compared to the people they were meant to save - that it's too different to compare.

It's really interesting to see at this point, given the parallel happenings in bsd and jjk, that the absurdist bsd and the tragic jjk are starting to once again diverge, showing us the relative differences between dazai and gojo who are playing the same type and role in their respective stories, but dazai is starting to believe in connection, in allies, in making a life that doesn't have to make logical sense to be valuable, vs gojo who is still fundamentally a sorcerer, that's what he goes back to.

[madchild-dennis]

Speaking of ex best friends.

Last week, a different ex best friend I believe was plotting something.

What do I mean?

Well I didn't want to mention it, because I thought it was fake, staged, irrelevant and not my business. As much as it not being my business didn't stop me from talking about it before. Now I'm determined to move on and let go.

However, I saw them yesterday and it seem it wasn't fake at all, but it confirmed it's definitely staged. So I think I should talk about it because 1."WE ARE NOT THE SAME". 2. Now you want to act like I'm not crazy/mentally ill; go fuck off or something.

What am I talking about?

Last week, I went to where I normally help. Their big friend saw me and I knew, if I saw that person, then they told the person that I'm around. So I wasn't surprised when they showed up. Nor was I surprised when they came into the place loudly happy like they have something up their sleeves.

Which she did. She came into the place saying loudly that they're in love. Telling the person at the front attending others, while I stay in the back trying to mind my business or play with my God daughter. They proceed to loudly tell the person that XYZ family is inviting them to their wedding. Which basically told me they're back with their husband.

Why is that some plotted planned, staged thing?

You see in 2020 after I left Jamaica, I told them about my dilemma with God and the guy or what God told me. They insisted on telling me how God told them to wait on her husband who is off living with a different woman. Something that is hard and she's fearful. But she shared it by telling me to wait like her cause God told her to wait. Which, I responded with the fact that God said wait when I was in Jamaica, but the new instructions was to "not to reject him" now that I was in Canada (at the time).

So I think she strategically came with their news to make sure I heard. Expecting that I would be all:

"If God do it for her, he'll do it for me...😊"

WRONG!!!

DO YOU KNOW WHAT ALL THAT DOES FOR ME?

Makes me more ANGRY!!!

1. You were all; I believe you/I support you, then completely flipped on my when things got hard.

Calling me a liar, mentally ill, plotted for my demise and more. When you KNOW I WAS RIGHT!!! Then now you want to act all "have faith my child".

FUCK YOU BITCH!!!

You should have been consistent and supportive when it was hard, scary and difficult!! 🖕🏾

2. You and I are NOT the same!!!

First of all, the guy shared his love, care and affection unwaveringly with her at some point before. They even had a child together. But if ALL that didn't happen, what she had that in BLACK AND WHITE. She has that declared to the WHOLE WORLD those things or the desire to be those things. What am I talking about?

The guy went in front of a pastor or judge and said "I do" to her, almost 21 years ago. Even if they divorced (they didn't) she has that. She has some, no MANY proofs of a man who has love, care, desire, protects, provide and more to her, at some point. And if not that he didn't do ALL that, the Marriage certificate is a paper that declares to the whole world that he desires, plans and committed to try to do those things.

I DO NOT HAVE ANY OF THAT.

Not even the idea that he wants to be with me because that asshole went out of his way privately and publicly to deny ANY feelings, ANY care, ANYTHING OF THAT SORT for me.

So, I am NOT going to think:

"Let me hold the faith, just like her..."

NO!!!

She didn't look like a FUCKING crazy, mentally ill and more person; I did. She only looked like an idiot.

WHICH IS WHY I WILL FOREVER STAND BY THIS:

(Instructions that demand he publicly, acknowledge, choose and commit to what God say. Which means his has to own up to ALL his flaws, fuck ups, actions, hurt he caused and so much more. Become and stand loudly in the flawed and imperfect version of himself he hates and while taking actions to do better.)

If he rather kill himself, then so be it.

If he succeed: I'll happily take it as a win.

If he failed: I'll take it as he'd rather die than tell the world that he wants, love or be with me.

Which both means, I move the FUCK ON!!!

Well, I'm not waiting on any of that to move on, actually. Because I said I'm done unless he does as I ask WITHOUT DELAY!!!

What he rather get a degree, look perfect or whatever else instead. Then so be it, WITHOUT ME!!!

I personally think, delaying school or loosing a few dollars or a little discomfort to be with the one you love/want or more is better...to me.

People, love, relationship, family or such is MORE IMPORTANT than things, status, other people's opinion, title or money!!!

But that's just me and I'll find someone who feels the same way. Plus as you already know I'm already actively looking out for it irregardless of his present aliveness status.

I am NOT going to him nor accept him/marry him if he doesn't do ALL these:

(PS: I did keep my promise. I am not talking about him but about this person indirectly telling me to wait on him)

Back to her:

If she want to do anything, she should direct it ALL to him to do as I ask (which is the fucking BARE MINIMUM!!!) otherwise, leave me the fuck alone to move on in peace!!!

[nagichi-boop]

Had this idea because I have been messing around a lot in Pokemas recently. Enjoy!

- x -

After a long day at work, Elesa met up with Ingo and Emmet for a late night ride on the Ferris wheel, a tradition they adhered to every Friday night. They had an agreement with the park owner to let them ride it late at night after the park was closed. They went around, with Emmet’s face practically plastered against the window. Ingo and Elesa took a more relaxed admiration of the city, enamoured by the flurry of lights throughout it and the amusement park. Ingo usually took note of Elesa’s admiration of the light show, but tonight she noticed a more subdued appreciation, which he hadn’t seen before.

After they got off of the ride with Emmet enthusiastically rambling off to Ingo, his arms flapping up and down excitedly, Ingo briefly interrupted Emmet.

“Elesa, is something wrong?” Ingo asked, causing Emmet to stop fidgeting and look at Elesa as well. She smiled halfheartedly.

“I’m fine! I’m just a bit tired from work is all. It’s been a busy day of modelling.” Elesa then turned a little and pointed at a bench behind her. “I’m gonna go sit down for a bit, but don’t let me stop you from having fun! I know Emmet will probably want to ride again as per usual.” Before the brothers could respond, Elesa walked away, sitting down on a bench that faced away from the Ferris wheel. Both brothers looked at each other, then nodded in agreement in how to proceed. They walked over to Elesa, standing either side of the bench.

“You know that if something troubling you, you can tell us, right?” Ingo said softly. Elesa stared down at the floor, then once again forced a smile for Ingo.

“I’m fine, really I am! It’s just been a long day.” Elesa fiddled with her thumbs a little, nervously hoping the brothers would drop it.

“I will go buy drinks from the vending machine!” Emmet suddenly announced, then stiffly walked away. Ingo took a seat next to Elesa, who sighed.

“I’m sorry, I knew Emmet would get uncomfortable. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything.”

“While it is true that my brother doesn’t find these situations easy, I do hope you know that he cares about you deeply.” Ingo looked at Elesa, who still didn’t reciprocate a glance. “I think much like me, Emmet finds it troubling when you hide your feelings from us. Emmet and I have always had an understanding with each other than we should share when we have a problem. Communication is vital for any train to continue to run smoothly, and so are relationships. I know you pride yourself on appearances, but I hope you know that you are allowed to be yourself around us, no matter what emotion it is you carry.”

Elesa remained silent for a moment as she worked up the courage to speak. “I know. I know you and Emmet care about me a lot. It’s just that…my feelings right now are over something so trivial. It didn’t make sense to me that I should have to rope you and Emmet into my own drama.”

Emmet returned with three drinks, then handed one to Ingo and Elesa before he took a seat on the other side of her. Emmet immediately cracked open his strawberry latte and took a large sip of it. Ingo hesitated for a moment, then gently opened his black coffee and took a much smaller sip than Emmet did. Elesa meanwhile fidgeted with her melon milk, refusing to open it.

“I know how you feel,” Ingo suddenly spoke up. “But keeping your thoughts and feelings to yourself will only hurt you in the end. And as someone who deeply cares about you, I don’t want you to be in pain. As you tell me and Emmet frequently, we are close like a family now. Although for a long time I couldn’t quite grasp that concept at first, I gradually began to realise that you were just as important to me as Emmet is. You truly are like family to me. You are always here to listen to Emmet and me, so I want you to feel that you can talk to us about your problems, too.”

Elesa stayed silent for a moment. “You promise you won’t laugh at me?”

“We promise,” Ingo replied gently, to which Emmet nodded in agreement.

Elesa took a deep breath. “It’s just that…after I finished my fashion shoot earlier, I began to read online at some of the comments that were made about my last photoshoot. And some people were talking about my height. Reading all the negative things about my height made me really self conscious I guess.”

Emmet was suddenly drawn into the conversation. “Why were people being mean about your height? I would love to be as tall as you are!”

“But that’s the problem! They were saying things about how they would hate to be as tall as I am, how it makes me look less feminine, that I’m less pretty because I am tall. Stuff like that. Women are supposed to be short and cute, but I’m not like that. Heck, I’m taller than you guys are, and that’s saying a lot.” Elesa leaned forward, her head in her hands and she tried to calm down. Ingo and Emmet looked at each other in confusion from over Elesa’s back.

“But they are just random people who are saying mean things,” Emmet responded. “There are many people who think your height makes you pretty.”

“Yeah? Then name one person who things of my height as a quality that makes me pretty.”

“Me and Ingo!”

“Well, of course you guys would say that. But no one else would-“

“And Skyla!” Emmet interrupted. “She talks all the time about how you are pretty and how she wishes she was tall like you are.”

Elesa pulled her head away from her hands, sitting up a little. “Wait, Skyla said she wishes she was tall like me?”

“If I recall correctly,” Ingo spoke. “She said that your height makes you look more dignified and powerful and that she wishes she could be the star of the room like you. That she would love to be able to reach as close to the sky as you do. She really looks up to you.” Ingo suddenly became flustered. “Ah sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound insensitive!”

Elesa sat up a little more and then laughed. “Don’t worry, I got what you meant ya goof!” Ingo looked away, blushing a little from embarrassment. “Thank you, guys. I don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s okay!” Emmet chirped. “We all have times where we feel less confident about ourselves and what we love.”

“But if you ever feel discouraged again, please come talk to me and Emmet again. We only wish for you to be happy.”

Elesa smiled. “Thank you, guys. You mean the world to me!” She then wrapped her arms around both of them, pulling them in for a hug. “I love you both so much!”

“We love you, too”, Ingo and Emmet replied simultaneously. The three of them spent the rest of the evening watching the fountains, finishing their drinks and laughing at stories together.

- x -

Hey, thanks for reading! Hopefully this wasn’t too out of character for Elesa? I know she’s usually very confident, but everyone has their moments, ya know? And in her Sygna Suit sync pair story in Pokemas she says she’s anxious about being in Pasio, so it’s not like she’s never unsure of herself. I just really wanted to have Ingo and Emmet cheer her up for a change. :)

Anyways I’m very sleepy now so imma stop typing lol. Hope this was okay! ;;

[fictionalhubbydreamer]

Just out of curiosity, how would the guys react to meeting a heavily tattooed and pierced s/o?

Oh wow well here is your answer!

[@valkriii hope I did alright here. Enjoy!]

💙Leonardo💙

* At first he would stare thinking "who is this?" Observing all the multitude of tattoos and piercings

* He seemed more curious after a while noting you are no threat to his family

* He can not help but ask about them knowing each one could hold a story

* He seems to find your interests fascinating

*[considering he stays underground most of the time-]

* He wants to get to know you more since you are new to his home

* Hes protective once he gets to know you more

* He finds himself tracing the patterns of your tattoos

* You blush at him taking such interest in your tattoos

* He then shows you his tattoos and thinks maybe he should get another one soon.

*He is internally screaming realising how he had fallen for you

*[Warning Leonardo's exe has stopped responding. It will need a reboot]

* You hug him to show your appreciation that he accepted you

* He hugs back showing his affection for you

❤️Raphael❤️

* To say he was dumbstruck at first is an understatement

* He actually held your arm to take a closer look at your tattoos

* He lets go realising he might be getting too close

* "cool look ya got there"

* He then showed his tattoos

* He asks about your various piercings and if they hurt

*[Insert just angry teddybear been worried]

* After he showed you his home he realises hes getting all cosy with you

* He talks more to you showing hes chill with your look

* He even goes as far as to order pizza to share with you

* He comes to love your look more than anything

* He was loving you even more

* He pulled you into a bonecrushing hug[The hot-head has been tamed!]

* You can not help but smile at his been all cuddly even though he was adament that he was not-[#Raphie-just-puts-on-an-act]

* You feel more accepted now and he would not have it any other way!

💜Donatello💜

* He spat out his coffee seen the new visitor[you]

* He was so hell bent focused on your piercings and tattoos he kinda forgot himself for a moment there

* He was rambling on and on as to how detailed and lovely they looked on you

* You blush after hearing his compliment

* He kept tripping over his words trying to smoothe things over

* You just smile and hugged the nerd

* He was a blushing mess this nerdy terrapin

* He started asking about each tattoo he touched that he could see

* You sit with him in his lab telling him everything

* He had fallen in love with you, big time!

*[Warning Warning Donatello's brain has left the building!....ugh why must we always warn everyone? His brain will be back later!]

*He hugged you showing he damn well cares about you, with or without tattoos and piercings.

🧡Michelangelo🧡

*He pulls you into an instant hug!

* He LOVES your look!

* He fucking well could not stop complimenting you!

* He asks what the tattoos meaning were

* He was hyped about meeting you

* His energy was contagious- well to some at least[Not Donnie]

* He was a total dork that was head over heels with your look, he was in love with you!

* He was NOT afraid to tell you he has fallen in love with you

* With your badass looks and your personality to match, hes deeming you his

* He decided to show you around the lair and show you his collection of games too

* He hugged you again telling you how much he loves everything about you

* He then proceeds to order pizza his own special topping combo of course

* you sit on the couch with him later sharing pizza and binge watching movies

[tannieschim]

when the camellia blooms | pjm

park jimin x kim! reader | 1 | 2

sypnosis: diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options - accept a deathly fate, or never love again. 

genre: au, angst, fluff, humor, friends to lovers? maybe.

warnings: many talks of death and dying, minor character death, pain, unrequited love, swearing, talks of past sexual experience while intoxicated, pining, longing, really sad reader, and lots of angst.

word count: 7.2 k

"you would die for her, for him."

"You're dying."

The two words escape past his lips steadily and breathily as your widening eyes linger on the way his hands fiddle with one another out of habit. He sighs deeply and resists the urge to avoid screaming at you and maintain eye contact out of professionalism, pushing back his slipping glasses.

"At this rate, you won't have any more than a month. Had you told me this sooner, y/n, the results wouldn't have been as scarce. But because you waited after almost a year of this, I'm afraid there's not much to do." He pushes his desk lightly to pull away from it, creating a mere distance between himself and the papers which finalized your future's passing. Reaching his collar, he tugs on his tie to loosen it before unbuttoning the first stitch as he looks at you with seemingly stray and angered eyes mixed with sympathy.

Suddenly, his sight wanders the room as he shakes his head repeatedly, scoffing in disbelief. He then smiles, dimples prominent, lip tightened, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes broken, piercing straight at its target - that being you.

Standing up, he takes off his glasses and slams his fist onto the chair's arm rest before running a hand across his hair, softly hissing.

The professionalism is now out of the drain, "You're an idiot, y/n."

"Fucking stupid. How could you not- I mean- how could you not tell me? I'm your brother! We're family. Blood. We're supposed to- we're supposed to tell each other these things and you just fucking- you kept it to yourself all these months! Ten months! And now I'm sitting here being the one to tell you that you're dying? That you're leaving me? I would've done something. I would've helped you, I- I would've killed whoever this person you're in love with is. y/n, please- I just-"

You don't know why, but you felt exhausted.

The ringing in your ears is deafening. Truthfully, you hadn't heard a single thing the minute you received news that you'll be, well, passing away. Not to mention, within 30 days time.

It's not as if you didn't already know about your condition, of course you did. Coughing soft pink camellia flowers every time you see the man that's brought you here is not exactly something that just simply passes a blind eye. You sense it, you feel it, and it hurts.

It really, really hurts.

You also felt awful for your brother. You hadn't meant for it to go this far. You didn't mean to not tell him. You didn't want your assigned doctor to suddenly call in sick and have your brother temporarily take his place. You didn't mean for him to find out this way - such a twisted, horrible fucking way, but here you are.

"I'm sorry, Joon. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to go this far. I just-"

"Were you ever even going to tell me?" He cuts you off, voice low and steady, almost afraid of your coming response.

Your eyes locate his across the cramped room, and one could clearly tell that it's striving its hardest to fight against desperate tears.

"I- yes, Joon. I was. Of course I was. I was gonna do it after this check in actually, but I guess God wanted you to find out sooner than I intended, though He could've just waited a little while longer and it would've been fine." You joke whisperingly, the heavy weight of your heart lightening just a small bit when you notice the corners of his lips twitch and his eyes faintly soften.

Regrettably, that was a lie. You didn’t plan on telling him, not today at least. Maybe not even ever.

The softening air lasts for only a second as his following question makes you hold back the urge to cough up another camellia flower slowly blooming its way to your throat.

"Who is it?"

Genuine, concerned, curious. These were all that he was.

But noticing the way your body went entirely rigid at his words and the way your hand clutched your clothed chest in attempt to shut down what you know will happen next, Namjoon's brotherly instincts causes him to naturally make his way towards you softly, taking small and careful strides towards your fragile state.

And once he's finally reached you, he gets on his knees gently in order for him to be of nearing same height level as you're sitting down, his hands rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting manner.

He does this all before pulling the trigger.

"Who are you in love with, y/n?"

two years back

"Jimin!"

You call out your brother's best friend loudly, who is currently in the midst of doing a one-man stage play in front of the mirror, "Joon's saying you guys need to get going now. Says he has a patient in two hours and wants to go over all sorts of documents before treating her."

Turning around, you scan the living room and dining room for the keys of your friend's car as your brother also asked you to hand them to him since the two always end up on forgetting it until they've already reached the car parked across your apartment's block.

You hear Jimin shuffle behind you, "Really? He wants to go over documents at- 9 AM in the morning?"

Smiling at his attempts of complaint, you nod your head softly in order to play along and answer his rhetorical question, "He really needs to learn how to drive doesn't he? Since he's dragging you along everywhere he goes."

Jimin laughs at your statement, which being an opinion, your brother would argue, 'driving isn't a necessary aspect of life.' But who really thinks like that? Oh right, non-drivers.

“I guess he’s getting too caught up in learning medicine that he forgot to learn how to officially become an adult.” Reaching above the kitchen top, you finally found sight of Jimin's car keys.

How did it even get up there? You think to yourself. It's really high up, so Namjoon must've been the one to leave it as to where it is.

You groan slightly, "Joon, can you get over here! I found Chim's keys but it's too far up high so I can't reach it. Hell I don't even think he can reach this-"

You are cut off when you feel a hand sneak around your waist, making you flinch and suddenly spin cautiously.

Eyes widened. Lips parted. Breath hitched. You let out an inaudible gasp as you come to the realization that Jimin is now in front of you, head tilted with an amused smile on his face, "Excuse you? I can very much reach this." He says, all the while reaching up behind you, inchly leaning forward. At this point, your body is being pressed up against the kitchen counter and his oh-so-very toned front.

This small action is enough to instigate a flaming abyss inside of you as you very much attempt to calm your alarmed heart.

You can feel the cuts and lines of his abs against your chest as he is now standing on his tippy toes, desperately trying to reach the keys on the kitchen top. Anyone that could see his posture would call him adorable, but your body is currently being sandwiched and by all that is high and mighty your mind can't even really process a single thing. Wait, what were you thinking just now?

"See? Got it." Jimin falls back in place as he jiggles his car keys in front of your stone-cold face, smile wide as he giggles softly, "Piece of cake, y/n."

He then proceeds to move on with his life like he didn't just do what the fuck he just did.

Clearing your throat, you blink about a million times in order to gather your thoughts. Your heartbeat is racing faster than the speed of light and your lips have become as dry as a desert. If you had gone standing on your tippy toes just as he did, you would've been a baby hair away from lips touching. The thought is enough to make you grow weak.

Yet as if something inside of you is suddenly turned on, no pun intended, you remind yourself that these thoughts are wrong. You can't be having these apprehensions, they aren't right. Because not only is he your brother's best friend, he also has a-

"y/n?" Jimin's soft voice calls out your name.

Breaking out of your trance, you turn to see him sitting down on the dining table, head tilted downwards with a small smile on his face. The sun escapes your pastel curtains as it slips past the window sill, reasoning with the current ray of golden yellow that has found its home on Jimin’s plump cheek, shining on the left side of his luminous face.

It's absolutely senseless how he can look as beautiful as he does simply by existing, and it makes perfect sense that your finding yourself to liking him more and more.

Just look at him.

You are broken out of your enchanted daze once more as dreaded words leave his smiling lips, "I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

Only then were you brought back to your inadequate reality.

“W- what?” You attempt to speak, but you notice the way your voice has suddenly become noticeably hoarse.

Jimin looks up at you with a smile, the kind that has his eyes almost disappearing.

“Sung. I’m gonna ask her to marry me tonight.”

silence.

silence.

and more silence.

Like a coward, that was all what you could muster to respond with.

And only then did you notice the velvet box on his hands, upon which he is tenderly caressing. Only then did you recognize the questionable romantic script of his one-man stage just moments earlier. Only then did you realize that the reason behind his growing smile are because of her, not you. Not because of what had just taken place.

Only then did you remember that no, you can't be having these apprehensions - they aren't right.

Because not only is he your brother's best friend,

he also has a, now upcoming, fiancé.

present time

"I already loved him then, Joon."

By this time, your brother has stood up and begun pacing back and forth the modest office, murmurs of curses towards his friend escaping past his lips, "-that small son of a bitch."

Smiling softly, you look down in reminiscence of the moments you have spent falling for Jimin. "I guess I've always been infatuated with him ever since our first meeting, but my God Joonie," you pause, inhaling a short breath in attempt to stop tears threatening to spill. "-ever since that day, when he told me that he was going to propose to her, I finally realized that like was the wrong term to use. I realized that I loved him and I just- I lost sight of everything." You cry, small sobs coming from you as you blinkingly look up to try to contain the waters forming in your eyes.

It was true. That day, when he told you about his plans to ask her to marry him, you've never felt more indignant.

Of course you faked it at first, congratulated him and consoled him into truthfully believing that she will undoubtedly say yes. But the minute he and Namjoon left your apartment, you collapsed on your carpeted floors, sobbing loudly and hitting your chest repetitively all the while cursing yourself in your head for ever even considering the tiniest of possibilities that you and Jimin could ever happen.

You also went out that night, got drunk, found a guy, slept with him, and never looked back.

Sure, this may seem like a regular night out for many, but not being the type to kiss and sleep, sex meant a lot to you.

Nothing wrong with one night stands, that just wasn't your particular chosen lifestyle. But you were wasted. You were intoxicated. You didn't know what you were doing. Had you been sober, you wouldn't have done what you did, especially with the person you did it with. So when you woke up in the middle of the night naked in bed next to a familiar face and realized what you've done, you rushingly stood up, got dressed, and left, ignoring the calls of the man you had just been with.

You went straight home and washed yourself for hours, feeling dirty and sloppy and disgusting. You can easily recollect sitting down in the showers, head tucked underneath and in between your legs, sobbing and crying loudly as the steam surrounding you from the warm water kept on worsening.

You hated what you did, and you most definitely despised the reason for what you did, - to simply get over someone else. You felt guilty. You felt ashamed. What would Jimin think? You thought to yourself. And though that truly didn't really matter, the ache in your heart kept on making you believe otherwise.

You didn't notice how your tears have fallen and stained your newly-bought jeans until Namjoon's hands holding a napkin comes within your perception.

Mumbling a small 'sorry Joonie,' you accept his offer and wipe the tears still continuously streaming down your now reddened, warm, and puffy face. As you do this, you furthermore catch sight of your brother's shadow rubbing his face in frustration, matching the groans that you also hear release from him in the background. And without meaning so, you deflate in insecurity.

Hearing the sound of air being released from a pulling force, you look up to see that Namjoon has sat back down, his elbows resting on the desk while his chin rest on his hands. "Does he know about this, y/n?"

You sigh, "No."

"Are you going to tell him?" You hear him ask once more.

Closing your eyes and sniffing lightly, you inhale a steady breath as you answer him for the second time, "I don't know, Joon."

Namjoon looks at you, eyes full of worry and concern. You don't know?

You're his sister, and he loves you. He would do anything for you. If he could shower you with all the love that you lack from Jimin, he would. And he would do it in a heartbeat. But you're dying. You're leaving him. And he doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know what to do. So how could you not know? How could you sit here, in front of him, after keeping this shit for ten months to yourself, tell him that you just don't know?

He feels frustrated. Frustrated over the clearing fact that if you don't know the answer to that simple yes or no question, then how more could you know the answer to when he asks you to make the choice?

The choice - to love or to die.

A very careful, unprecedented surgery that has been performed by professionals only a few times, yet each one has been successful. This seems easy, yeah. A surgery to save your life? Of course you'll do it! But there's a reason as to why this has been done only by a certain small count.

To perform the surgery and live, the price is not the expense, but rather the loneliness that shall come as you spend the rest of your life void of emotions. The surgery doesn't get rid of love on its own, it gets rid of everything that comes with it - happiness, sadness, trust, pain, pretty much everything that one can possibly feel. The only emotion left is indifference, yet even indifference lacks its self-sustainability.

Who would want to live like that?

Who would want to live a life where you just simply exist and nothing more?

He knows that the day will come eventually - when he offers you the choice, the chance to save your life, and he knows it will come soon. But right now, he has chosen to prioritize being a brother over a doctor. Right now, the only thing in his mind is comforting you.

"Okay." Your brother nods, making your eyes widen slightly in shock.

Okay? No scolding? No 'how could you not know?!' older brother reprimands? But then you remember, oh yeah. You're dying. And who could possibly scold their dying little sister?

"I'm sorry Joonie-" You try to apologize once more before he cuts you off again.

"No, don't apologize, y/n. It's not like you could've possibly wanted for any of this to happen, yeah?" He offers you a smile, but you could easily see past its fabricated purpose, "But instead let me ask you this. And I need you, in our deceased parent's name, to be completely honest with me."

You only nod, completely submissive and understanding of his seriousness the moment that he mentioned your passed parents.

"What you just told me, when you first fell in love with him, that was two years ago." He starts, making you nod again in agreement.

"But you were diagnosed only ten months ago."

Your heart drops, and you don't nod again.

"The Hanahaki Disease is not something that gradually begins and comes to existence over the course of time. It is an illness that is triggered. It could be by a sudden forthcoming realization or proclamation of love, or by an event that triggers the heart to completely shut down in overwhelmth. Either way, basing on the timing of what you've said, you should've been diagnosed with the Hanahaki two years ago. But you weren't."

Namjoon eyes you questioningly, but not too much to the extent that you feel uncomfortable, only just enough to remind you of the importance of this conversation, "You were only diagnosed ten months ago, y/n. Why?"

You sit still, not wanting to move, as if your stone figure would somehow make him think that you're not real or that you're a simple figment of his messed up imagination.

"y/n, what happened ten months ago?"

He finishes his question and you swallow harshly only to realize that you're parched, your throat completely dry. You then tilt your head to steal a gaze at your brother, making you catch the way his eyes suddenly widened as if he just realized something of high importance. As if he had just realized the answer to his own question. And that didn't work with you.

Clearing your throat, you are about to answer him in order to cut off his thoughts until the door swings open and you feel your throat compact, - the coughs of a camellia flower slipping its way to visibility -because there he is,

the man of the hour.

"y/n." He noticeably breathes a sigh of relief before making his way to you, engulfing you in a giant embrace. "I was so worried about you. Why didn't you tell me you had the Hanahaki? How could you not let me know? How long have you had it? Who is it? I swear I'm going to murder whoever this piece of shit is that he dared ever making yo-"

"Jimin this is a professional space between a doctor and his patient." The two of you pull away almost exactly the same time as soon as Namjoon speaks up, Jimin's eyebrows furrowing, "Get out."

"What?" Jimin barely gather the voice to ask him as he is completely caught off guard of his friend's erupting vulgar attitude.

"I said-" Namjoon speaks before getting caught off again.

"No trust me, I heard what you said. But what?" Jimin repeats himself, "So you're telling me you're not prioritizing being y/n's brother right now? You're still caught up in this Doctor Kim bullshit? Like you're a real one?"

"Jimin-" You attempt to budge in, sensing that a certain trouble may suddenly come knocking.

"No, y/n. Listen hyung-"

"No, YOU listen. You small piece of shit." Your brother raises his voice, "-don't come barging in here like you own the place or like you have any authority over her. She is MY sister and this is a family matter. So it's best you stay out of it and keep in your lane."

At this point, Namjoon is in front of Jimin, a short distance separating the two of them, "And don't you ever dare speak to me in that tone again. I know you're my friend, but remember to treat me with respect. Not only am I your superior, but I'm also your hyung." He finishes with a serious voice, tone low, and message deep. His earnest eyes piercing through his friend's pained ones.

Jimin, mouth slightly agape being at loss for words and clearly confused at his close friend's unreasonable anger, storms out of the room.

But not before he drags you along with him.

Namjoon is quick to act as he tries to reach for you, but you turn back and look at him pleadingly, signaling him that it's okay and to not worry. And him being the understanding brother that he is, pulls back and holds himself steady.

You can handle him. You’re a Kim. You’re strong.

Strong enough to survive through this.

You’ll be okay.

And as he watches the two of you leave, the door closing shut right in front of him, only then does reality hit Namjoon as his legs tremble abruptly, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.

Falling down the floor, he reaches onto the desk for assistance as he slides his back down the wooden wall, hands painfully fisted and finding its way to cover his mouth in order to muffle the choked-in sobs perilously escaping him. He proceeds to blink away the tears and bite harshly on his lips, trying to diminish the flourishing grievance in his heart.

His sister is dying, and he doesn't know what to do.

“Doctor Kim? The next patient is ready to see you.” A knocking nurse distracts him and calls out from behind the door, “-shall I send them in?”

Namjoon sniffs heavily and sighs deeply, rushingly grabbing his glasses and adjusting his emotionally wrecked state, “One moment!”

He lets out a soft, shaky breath and reminds himself once more that you’re a Kim.

You’re strong.

You can beat this.

It'll be alright.

You'll be okay.

"IM NOT OKAY JIMIN-SHI!" You voicely whine out to your friend who is currently dragging you along the halls of the hospital and out the technologically advanced glass doors, "What is wrong with you?!" You pull your arm aggressively from his grasp as you bend down, hands resting on your knees while you hastily try to catch your breath. The camellia flower stuck just along the chords of your throat making it very difficult.

Jimin stares at you worryingly, having forgotten of your illness, "O- oh no. y/n, I'm sorry I forgot I- are you okay? Should we go back?" He stutters in concern before you hold up one finger, signaling him to shut the hell up. "-sorry."

Looking at you like this, tired and exhausted from having to put up with all his bullshit, Jimin feels a sudden urge to reach out and embrace you tightly, almost forgetting of his previous encounter with your brother.

And so that's exactly what he does.

You are caught off guard the moment you feel a hand grab your shoulder by means of pulling you closer all the while another rests just at your crook of spine, and although this first makes you stumble in a not-so-very prettily way, your destination is found to be in your friend's embrace, his fragile yet protective arms wrapped around you securely.

Not letting this moment simply pass by, you let yourself melt in his arms as you find the comfort meant to be found in his comforting hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as you slightly stand on your tippy toes. Somehow, your simple action makes him pull you even closer, one hand creeping behind your neck all the while his other is completely wrapped around your waist although this time is tighter than before.

As the two of you stay like this in the middle of the sliding glass doors of the hospital, crowds of unfamiliar voices passing by you and ambulances ringing endlessly against your ear, you let yourself submerge within the passion of your heart.

Amidst the chaos and cries of your nearingly counted days, you find consolation in the arms of the same man that has put you in front of death's door, and quite frankly, you wouldn't really want it any other way. You'll take what is given by the heavens above when it comes to Jimin, because well- you love him.

Unfortunately, that quick and simple thought is enough to make you lose control of your reminded disease.

"y-y/n what's- are you okay?" Jimin pulls away from you abruptly as you break into coughing fits, pastel pink camellia blossoms escaping your trembling lips.

The sight has caught the attention of many civilians, but both you and Jimin remain to be indifferent about them as you or more or less are occupied with your illness all the while Jimin specifically aims his attention on you alone.

"Alright that's it, screw your brother alright?" Jimin exclaims a bit louder than what you're comfortable with as this obviously did not benefit with the proceedingly growing public focus on the two of you, "-we're going back, y/n, it's my fault for bringing you outside so suddenly-"

"No chim, please-" You roughly attempt to speak out, your throat painfully extracting the feeling of abrasiveness, "Please just- let's just go."

"y/n.."

“Please chim,” you cut him off for what seemed to be the fiftieth time, coughing, “-please. I don’t want to be here any longer.”

Hesistant yet concerned, Jimin nods slowly as he assists your side, his hands finding its home around your waist and lower back while you both take short and careful strides. You destination is still unknown, but you didn’t mind. A journey a day with someone you love has never turned out for the worse.

At least that's what you think.

"Really?" You roll your eyes as you notice the familiar lane that Jimin's car just entered, "I asked you to get me out of the hospital area, I didn't ask for a sleepover, Jimin." You jokingly accuse him, but you can't help the smile that makes its way on your puffed-up face as you notice him smoothly take a side-glance at you with a knowing smirk.

"Well I thought that with all that bad hospital air, you might've wanted to breathe in a familiar scent," Jimin responds as the car comes to a stop.

You turn slightly to open the door and step out before you here a meek, "Jankkanman!" and perceive a 5'9 in height blondie come running around the bonnet in order to open the car door for you as a gentleman would. It is such a sweet and casual pantomime, yet an ill-patient diagnosed with an illness of the heart can never bring you any wins. Consequently, his actions only causes your throat to feel strained and compacted for the endless time.

God, how much did you love this man that such a simple gesture makes you want to cough out countless of fully bloomed flowers?

You thank the heavens above for your past endless experiences that allowed you to now be better in terms of hiding your pain as you attempt to smile genuinely, mumbling a small "thank you" in the process before making your way inside his home.

"So," Jimin starts as the two of you plop down his couch, his eyes seeking for yours as he tilts his head ever so lightly, "what should we do today... now that you're out of that hell hole?"

"Chim!" You scold him lightly, "my brother and your best friend just happens to be working in that hell hole, just in case you forgot, and- hey! You work there too, you ass." You accusingly point at him all the while hitting his arm playfully.

Jimin is was a nurse in that hospital. Your brother is a doctor.

He laughs and smiles widely, "Nope. I don't work there anymore, remember? But I did for a while, which is why I can most definitely testify that that place is indeed, a hell hole. And by the way, I'm kind of offended that you pretty much forgot my lost profession just then, y/n, like what the fuck?" He jokes endingly.

Your eyes soften slightly as he mentions his lack of job, yet you still stubbornly choose to ignore his last remark. "Well I sure hope that's not the case since I'll be most likely spending my last days there."

Oops.

The silence that ensues goes inevitably noticed by the two of you the moment those words escaped past your lips, but you paid no mind. That was the reason that you asked him to take you away anyways. You weren't hoping for some cliche romantic bullshit where the two of you simply elope and forget your real worries in your life, no. Instead you were here with the main purpose of facing it.

Besides, even if you did want to leave with him, you couldn't. Remember?

Jimin is the first to break the excessive blockade, "Don't say that y/n."

You sigh, "But it's true, chim."

"I don't give a shit if it's true or not."

"Chim.." You are slightly startled with his sudden outburst, caught off guard in the way his voice slightly raised as his attention and body language are now completely directed at you, "Wha- why are you getting mad?"

Jimin scoffs, almost irritated at your oblivious question, "Why? Because you're talking of dying like it's not a big deal, y/n!" His voice getting louder and louder by every word he spits out, "God, you know you can be so fucking insensitive sometimes. What, did you already forget the shit I suffered when I lost someone? Did you already forget all the fucking shit I suffered when death took her from me?"

At the mention of her, you pause. Speechless. Guilty. Hurt.

Of course you remember. How could you not? You remember the darkest of days as like it was just yesterday.

You remember getting that call in the middle of the night from the contact name of your brother as you slightly answered it in an irritated voice, "Joon I swear to God if you're asking me to drive you to work in the middle of the fucking night I will personally drag your ass right now to get a driver's liscenc-"

"y/n?"

You remember immediately stopping as you recognize the voice that most certainly did not belong to your brother, "Chim?"

"y- y/n."

You remember the outbreak of his sobs as you call out to him, his sniffles and cries becoming more and more prominent as you stumble on your feet, struggling with keeping your phone against and in between your ear and your shoulder as you hurryingly take off to grab a jacket and your keys, "Chim what's wrong, where the hell are you? W- where's Joon?"

You remember the way your heart dropped as your worst fear came to mind, the thought of losing your brother itself being enough to make you wobble in your feet, your heart clenching. He had your brother's phone, and he was crying.

"N-no, he- he's fine, y/n. It's not him, hyung's... hyung's fine."

You remember the way he struggled to find the right words; the way he sniffled and stuttered through forming such a simple sentence all the while you on the other side of the line breathe out a sigh of relief at the information of your brother's wellness, yet feeling slightly guilty that your emotions are in contrast with your friend's.

"It's Sung."

You remember Jimin's worst.

"It's Sung, y/n. Sh- she got in an accident on the way here to visit me during my off hours and- fuck! Some fucking demon pulled a hit and run on her. She was walking, y/n. She walked an hour here and got ran over by someone and.. they're doing an operation on her- hyung's assisting and he just- it's bad. It was really bad and she was bleeding all fucking over and- hyung, he- he left his phone and I didn't know what to do so I just called you- I didn't, they pushed me out of the room, y/n. I need you here. Please, please. Please come here because I'm losing my fucking mind and I need you here."

You remember driving to the hospital as careful as you can with the fear of the possibility of an accident occurring still in the midst of the back of your mind.

You remember reaching the doors of the emergency room and being greeted with a pair of reddened and exhausted eyes that looked up the moment you walked in, "Jin."

He stands up to greet you politely but you stop him, obviously seeing that his reaction upon seeing you is no more than a forced delight, "Let's not do this under these circumstances, okay? You're allowed to feel unwelcoming. It's okay, Jin."

He does no more than mumble a small 'thank you' before going back to his previous spot with you trudging along beside him.

You remember feeling the sorrow of the man beside you as you watch him lean his head back against the wall, fragile streaks of tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. You couldn't imagine his pain, the pain of such a situation where your sister's life is at stake. You wanted to comfort him, to softly rub his back and whisper sweet encouragements against his ear, little white lies that his sister is guaranteed to make it without a doubt. But you couldn't. You weren't here for him, regardless of your history. Regardless of the way you left him the morning after your supposed mistake.

"Uhm, have you seen Jimin?"

You remember the way his void eyes find yours and the way his lips lightly upturn as he gives you a forced smirk, trying to keep up with his image of being Kim Seokjin, Kim Sungkyung's handsome and cocky older brother, "And here I was thinking fate brought you here to me, y/n." He trails off, "-considering how you fucked me then dipped."

You gasp slightly and playfully hit his arm at the blunt mention of your regretted one night stand as you give him a small yet genuine smile, partly glad yet at the same time worried that he can make such remarks during a situation like this.

It was strange really, how everything in your life seemed to be connected. How on the day you felt your heart tore apart the time Jimin first mentioned his planned proposal, you went out and accidentally slept with the soon-to-be-bride's older brother.

Letting out a small sigh, Jin nods his head in the direction of a different waiting room, "He left when I came. Guess he was embarrassed of how fucked up he was but hey- I'm not doing any fucking better am I?" He tells you, subtly pointing at the very visible streaks of tears still falling down his now puffy face.

You get on your feet and turn to leave but not before giving one last glance at the man next to you, a hand softly reaching to rub his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Jin. I wish I could stay, but-"

"It's okay, y/n. Go." Jin encourages you with a small yet noticeably forced smile, "He needs you."

And so you do, bidding him a soft goodbye before taking off, your eyes beginning to water out of the guilt of leaving a friend in that state.

You then remember being suffocated. Suffocated from the embrace that greeted you the moment Jimin entered your peripheral vision. You remember landing on your behind with a harsh thud from the struggle of Jimin's weight as he continues to seek your embrace for means of comfort, the two of you falling down the floor. You remember getting drenched from Jimin's tears as you cradle him as would a wailing child, rocking him back and forth all the while softly rubbing his back, whispering every bit of amenity that could make him feel better.

You remember feeling your heart physically ache as you fail to notice the tears that have fallen down your own eyes, blurring your sight.

To see Jimin in this state, so broken and hurt and scared, it tore you apart. You wanted him happy. You wanted him smiling. You wanted him. You loved him. And God forbid that you're admitting this in your own mind while his fiance is battling for her own life, but fuck.

You wanted nothing more than to lay down your own life for Sung so that she could continue in existence for him.

If you could, you would take here place.

You would die for her, for him.

You remember pushing back your thoughts as you put focusing on Jimin your first priority. You remember keeping him in a neverending tight embrace as he neverendingly sobs against your chest, his lips leaving prayers you could barely yet still tried to understand;

please don't let her die

don't take her away from me

i love her too much

i still have to marry her.

You then remember hearing a wail of anguish, putting a pause to both Jimin's silent pleas and your eavesdropping as the both of your heads turn to pinpoint from whom the noise came from.

You remember the way Jimin stilled.

"No."

You remember his whisper of such a small, two-lettered word, yet somehow it caused your heart to crumble.

"No no no no-"

You remember having to tackle Jimin slightly as he causes a mess of himself, punching the seats and harshly tugging on his hair all the while screaming wails of pain and suffering, "Jimin please-"

"No- get the fuck off of me! Sung?!"

You remember how Jimin lost sight of reality as he pushes you off of him, your body making in contact with the cold tiled ground.

"SUNG? SUNG! LET ME INSIDE-"

You remember seeing nurses and other staff pull the man you love back as he causes a scene, starting to become physical and violent with the people surrounding him, "PLEASE! Please- I just- I NEED TO SEE HER! SHES MY FIANCE-"

You remember seeing a man dressed in blue make his way near Jimin, a needle in his hand.

"H-hey, no!" You remember trying to catch up to the nurse, attempting to prevent them from giving whatever the shot was to Jimin, "Stop! Please-"

"y/n. D-don't."

You remember feeling a hand on your shoulder which makes you turn around instantly, only to find the culprit behind the anguished scream just moments prior Jimin's outburst.

"Jin." You start, "-they're going to sedate him. That- that's not okay."

"They have to, y/n." Another voice calls out from behind Jin, "I know how it seems and I don't like it either, b-but he's becoming violent. They have to sedate him."

"Joon." You whisper softly.

What a sick and twisted game that life is playing on you, that your brother, Jimin's best friend, Jimin's best man at the wedding being planned, is the one to give news of the bride's passing.

"Sung, is she really.." You trail off, not having the heart to finish your sentence.

It seems neither does he, as he responds with nothing but a simple avoidance of eye contact.

"HYUNG!"

You remember Jimin's faint and tired yet still firm voice as he calls out your brother, "Hyung, you saved her didn't you? You- you were part of the surgery. You saved her didn't you? Didn't you!?" Jimin is weak as he trails off his words as the effect of the syringe takes its course, but that doesn't stop him from reaching out to the three of you, "H-hyung. Tell me you saved her. P-please tell me you saved h-her."

Namjoon doesn't stop the tear that rolls down his hardened face as he only shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Jimin. We did our best. We really, really did. I'm so sorry-"

You remember the way Namjoon's voice trails off your hearing as your throat suddenly feels contracted. You remember the itching pain just within your chest as you find the struggle to breath, your hand clutching it harshly. You remember stumbling back just a little bit as you feel lightheaded, thinking that these were only from the overwhelming happenings in that moment.

But then you cough.

And you cough

and you cough

and you cough.

But no one notices you.

Not even yourself.

Your attention remains still at Jimin, who has now dropped completely to the floor, tears still continuously spilling out of his drowsy eyes. Short breaths are released from his trembling lips as he mumbles words that none of you can understand. He then begins to seemingly reach out for something, someone.

"P-please," He whispers.

And as you bend down almost immediately to attend to his calls, you cough.

And you cough

and you cough.

And still no one notices.

No one except him.

You cough as your eyes find his, barely open yet staring right at you from the lows of the floor.

You remember having to excuse yourself and run to the nearest restroom you can find, legs trembling and stumbling on your way there as you push against the winds of the almost empty halls, still coughing with every step you take. And just as you reach the doors of the restroom, you turn back slightly, just enough to catch Jimin's last sight while his body is being carried away to where you guess is a vacant patient's room, all this before his eyes ultimately close.

Eyes you found lastly staring at you.

You remember finally shutting the door and locking it, thanking God silently that you're in a family restroom hence there is no one else inside. You cough desperately, your throat beginning to feel exclusively sore and your lungs beginning to tighten from all the air being released as you cough and cough and cough again.

You reach out to the sink, gripping tightly onto the white metals as you cough and cough and cough again.

You then brushingly turn to the toilet, your eyes watering and lips numbing as you cough and you cough and you cough once more.

You practically clean the whole restroom, as disgusting as that sounds, from all the moving you made as you coughed anywhere and everywhere. You felt awful for the next person to come inside, now that your bacterium were practically in its every corner, side, and space. You cough again, this time harder, the worst one out of the previous.

You remember sensing a certain feeling rise up, something soft yet itchy, something light yet heavy.

And so you cough, and you cough, and you cough, and you cough,

and you bleed.

And amongst the red is a pink.

A single, individual pink petal from what you would soon find out is a camellia flower - the flower that is soon to be the latter symbolization of death chasing you, growing closer, inching nearer, just about to knock on your door.

So of course you remember Jimin's distraught. Of course you remember Sung's - his fiance's death.

Because her death was too, the ultimate beginning of yours.

taglist for part 2?

[infernalrevenge]

Hey, Kiss Me? (Don't Mind If I Do)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G

Summary: Daniela is used to being the flirty one, blowing kisses and making a pass at anyone who caught her attention. It just never occurred to her that the tables could turn on her.

Notes: [slams fists on the table] LET ME FLIRT WITH THE CUTE VAMPIRE GIRL. If RE8 had a dating sim spin-off in some alternate universe where Capcom REALLY wanted to capitalize on the game's success, one of my runs would definitely involve romancing the youngest Dimitrescu. For anyone else who feels me on this, this is for you too. I also tried writing this in 2nd person POV for a change. Hope it still turned out alright, it's my first time writing this way. Enjoy!

----------

You had been working for the Duke for quite a while now. He took you in in your time of need and had been made an apprentice of sorts in the art of trading and bargaining.

You've met your fair share of oddities while settled in the village and running errands, including but not limited to: A man who can control metal and electricity on a whim, a talking doll who lives under a waterfall, and the numerous wolf-man hybrids that lurked around the vicinity. They were what most may consider crass company -- at least, that was what the Lady of the castle would say.

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu was a frequent customer and a business partner of the Duke's, helping her in the sale of her vintage "wine" to intrigued buyers. This also meant that the two of you were frequent visitors to the castle on the other side of the village proper -- a vast estate that was entirely too large for just four women to occupy (even if one of those women happened to be nine feet tall).

Miss Bela was always the more polite and civil of Dimitrescu's daughters, offering a simple greeting whenever you would come by. When it was appropriate, she was always at her mother's side and paying attention to how meetings between the older adults would proceed, like a student eager to learn from the best. You figured that, as the oldest sibling, she might take over the business someday. You weren't sure exactly how that would happen, given what you knew of the family, but you really shouldn't prod anyway. At least, not now.

Miss Cassandra was more closed off, so to speak. It always seemed like she would barely acknowledge your presence in the castle, talking only when it was necessary and immediately leaving the room once she was allowed to. However, you would feel a prickling in the back of their neck when she wasn't around, like you were being watched from the background -- prey at the mercy of their predator. But every time you turned around, there would be no one there, not even a sound to indicate escape. A part of you thought you might have been pulled into some unwitting game, wondering what would happen if you did catch the perpetrator in the act. You weren't sure you really wanted to find out.

Then, there was Miss Daniela, whose attention seemed to lie in... other prospects. Like Bela, she offered warm greetings whenever you would stop by the property. Unlike her sisters though, who never really bothered with the Duke's apprentice, she always tried to entertain herself with your company. You had a friendly enough rapport with her that you could relax in her presence as well, so it was nice. You figured it was mostly because they rarely ever got outside company, and since the sisters stay in the castle a lot of the time, she always welcomed you with enthusiasm. And a smile. And a wink. And some passing remark about how nicely you dressed that day and that you must have been trying to impress her.

"I could just eat you right up," she would say with a giggle and a playful growl.

You've never been too sure what to make of her -- she always seemed to have her head in the clouds, only coming back down at the behest of her mother or when her sisters were persistent enough. You also never knew how to respond to her flirting apart from flustered silence, which only seemed to spur her on even more. It was like she was just trying to get a reaction from you, making a game of it. It was far different from the one her older sister seemed to be keen on playing, but a game nonetheless -- how far could she push your buttons and make you implode from embarrassment?

Honestly, it seemed to be working.

You had been well-socialized thanks to your training under the Duke, and of course the man himself was charming and likeable so a part of you liked to think it may have rubbed off as he raised you. But that was when it came to formalities and negotiations -- maybe banter, if you could really push it. You've thought about responding earnestly, but flirting was another ball game all on its own, one that you don't really play on purpose, and you frequently found yourself floundering at the face of it. Especially when that face was as pretty as Daniela's.

It wasn't like you thought she liked you that way or anything -- you genuinely thought she said all those things for fun, to amuse herself with how hot you got or how you would sheepishly shrink in on yourself. But you weren't going to deny that she was cute and that you may have just a small crush on her. Just maybe. Not that you would ever admit that out loud.

----------

One winter day, the Duke entrusted you with meeting with Lady Dimitrescu on your own. She was informed of his absence beforehand -- something about attending to Lord Heisenberg's business -- and so you were left to take care of updates. In the meantime, you kept yourself busy in the guest area, perusing the dusty books in shelves that definitely needed some cleaning. It seemed like the castle could never have enough help.

As soon as you were left alone, with only your notepad and thoughts to keep you company, you felt the hairs at the back of your neck stand. You slowly looked to the side, eyes trained on a dark corner of the room. The light from the fireplace didn't quite reach that spot, making it quite the hiding place. Was something (or someone) moving from there? Are your eyes playing paranoid tricks on you? Was it Miss Cassandra playing her one-sided game again? Perhaps... you shouldn't interfere then.

You turned your attention back to the book shelf, looking high above you, wanting to take a closer look at the selection. You dragged a stool and a few stacked cushions to the shelves and slipped your shoes off, praying to whoever was out there that Lady Dimitrescu wouldn't find you like this. Oh, the scolding I'd get from Duke about manners -- you'd never hear the end of it. Stepping carefully onto the plush surface -- a few feet from the ground -- and finding your balance, you start to pick something out that had an interesting title.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Y/N," a voice echoed in the room, catching you off guard.

You jumped in surprise and lost your footing, falling backward as the cushions slipped from under you. Oh yeah, this was gonna hurt! But before you could make contact with the hardwood floor, a hand reached out and grabbed you by the waist, catching you in a rather precarious position.

"You could've hurt that cute little ass of yours," the voice cooed. Daniela seemed to have materialized from out of nowhere, wearing a mischievous grin and holding onto you as she practically hovered over you. Oh god, she was so close, you don't know where your body heat ended and hers started.

"Miss Daniela," you greeted, finally finding your voice. "Um, thanks for the save."

She pulled you up to standing on the stool and raised an eyebrow at you, smirking amusedly, "And what exactly were you doing so high up in the shelves? Aren't you supposed to be waiting here like a good little one?"

"I was just... looking at the books," you replied softly, "And falling for you, I suppose," you added as a joke, chuckling as you shook off your nerves from earlier. You were a little surprised she didn't start off with that line honestly, given how easy--

Daniela's smirk dropped at your response, eyes widening as she stiffened. Uh oh... did you say something wrong?

She blinked at you, mouth hanging open slightly as if she was trying to find the words. It looked like she gave up though, just looking away and stepping off the stool. Were you imagining that her cheeks just turned pink?

"Mother's waiting for you at the meeting room," was all she said before quickly making her exit.

It took a while before the wheels in your head started turning again.

----------

The next time you came to the castle with the Duke, it was a warm day in spring. On these occasions, sometimes Lady Dimitrescu would be more open to a different venue of meeting than inside the castle -- "for a change of scenery," as she would say. The two of you met her and her daughters at the main garden at the back of the property, the sun shining generously on all forms of life.

When Daniela spotted you, she seemed almost caught unaware, but she quickly regained composure, throwing a smirk and wink your way -- her usual greeting. You couldn't help but duck down shyly, but nonetheless waved and smiled back.

The older adults took their business elsewhere, leaving you alone with the daughters at the lobby; well, more like a daughter, since Cassandra had already left before you can say another word and Bela had excused herself soon after. It was normal for you to be in the company of the redhead at this point. Not that she seemed to mind.

"Been a while since you've been back here. Betcha missed me, huh?" Daniela said, a charming smile curled on her lips. She stood next to you, seeming intent on leading you on a little walk around. Hey, you'd take any excuse to spend time with her.

You laughed softly, "Quite, Miss Daniela."

"You're still sticking to those formalities, Y/N? Come on, you can drop the 'Miss'." She sidled up closer to you, nudging your side. "You can even skip 'Daniela' altogether and just call me yours."

You unconsciously covered your mouth as you glanced her way -- she was being more straightforward than usual. You don't know if you were just trying to hide the blood rushing to your cheeks or trying to stop yourself from smiling too widely, but seeing the smug look on the other's face, you knew she succeeded yet again in flustering you.

"What's wrong? Did summer come early? You're looking kinda warm," she teased, bending down slightly to your face level. "Then again, you are hot enough for the both of us." Damn, she was too good at this. "You'd give the sun a run for its money, honey."

You took a few moments to collect yourself, standing up straighter and clearing your throat. Your eyes looked up to meet hers, showing a half-smile as you spoke with as smooth of a delivery as you can muster, "I'd always thought you would be the sun's rival, given how easily you brighten up my day."

Daniela nearly tripped when she took another step, only managing to catch herself on a nearby bench.

"Are you--"

"I'm fine! I'm fine, just, uh... stubbed my toe on something. Stupid rock."

There were no rocks on the path you two were walking -- unless one counted the flat rock ground. (It didn't.)

The rest of the day carried on as it normally would -- Daniela distracting you from the uneasy feeling of being watched from a proper walk with her usual demeanor, batting her eyelashes and telling you how she simply must teach you to dance some time. "Maybe then you'll learn to loosen up around me." But in return, you would sometimes reply with your own quips -- "Well I wouldn't be opposed to being closer to you, Miss Daniela." You weren't about to question where this newfound confidence came from; you may as well own it, right?

It was only after that visit, replaying the day in your head like you wanted to remember it for as long as you could, that a realization came to you -- the way her cheeks tinged pink and averted her gaze, how she was rendered speechless whenever you replied in the same way that was usually expected of her...

She's not used to being flirted back to.

Her self-esteem allowed her to accept most straightforward compliments with grace, so flattery did not faze her in the slightest -- but when it came to using disarming words? When charm and wit were used right back at her?

She floundered almost as much as you did.

Suddenly, you weren't just a prop in the game anymore -- you knew how to play it now. You knew uttering such sweet (and occasionally cheesy) phrases could make the youngest Dimitrescu blush harder than a maiden being courted. And by god, did she look adorable when she did.

You kind of understood why she did all that now -- watching someone get flustered and knowing you were the cause of it was fun. It was weirdly thrilling seeing her react like that, but then again you might be confusing that feeling with different kind of fluttering in your chest whenever you were alone with Daniela. Who knows?

One thought lingered at the back of your mind though: How long would it take before one of you broke and asked the other on a real date?

.

.

.

(Cassandra materialized behind Daniela as you bade her farewell for the day. She had been observing the two of you interact for a while, monitoring the redhead's "progress". She knocked her sister out of her faraway thoughts with a smack to the head. "So are you gonna admit you like them yet?"

Daniela seemed almost offended at the insinuation, "I would nev-- I mean how dare-- I don't like-- they're just-- I--"

The brunette only raised an eyebrow.

"They're..." She thought back to you, that cute little smile you wore whenever she tried to flirt with you, and how you suddenly rose to the challenge of using her own tactics against her earlier. It was kind of hot. "Okay, I guess. They're okay. They're fine." Quite fine. "That's all I'm gonna say."

"Suuuure...")

[bunny300]

Okay, I assume we've all read or thought about that whump moment where whumpee is told to pick a punishment (one of two) (one far worse than the other) and whatever they don't pick will be given to their friend/fellow captive (usually a trusted somebody they care for) but imagine this:

Let me set the scene. Whenever whumpee or C (the fellow captive/friend) does something wrong, perhaps they both get punished for it. And C broke a very simple rule and they are brought for their first punishment. And instead of the usual whumper asking whumpee, he asks C instead.

Imagine whumper looking between C and whumpee, "there are two punishments. No food or drink until tomorrow morning. Or 20 lashes. You," he says, turning completely to C, "get to choose which one you get. Whichever you don't choose, whumpee gets."

"No food," C replies immediately, not even leaving any time to think about it.

Imagine it. How does whumpee react? Is he glad that his friend won't go through that? Maybe. But could you imagine the betrayal? There was no pause to think. C didn't even care.

Imagine with me for a moment whumper alone with whumpee before giving him his punishment, "see whumpee? I told you they didn't care about you." Whumper proceeds to give the lashes and after twenty strikes, patches up and soothes the whumpee. "I know darling. I'm so sorry. C chose that, not me. If you become my personal pet, I'll treat you how you should be treated. C only cares about themself."

Whumpee doesn't fall for it. It's all a trick whumper is playing. C didn't have a choice, right? Right. Whumpee declines whumpers offer and gets taken back to whatever dingy cell or room to do whatever task. That is until another mistake is made. Whumpee is always so careful, they were like this before they were taken, but C wasn't. And C talked back. And now both are back again and whumper is giving them a punishment. "Shackled outside in your underwear all night, keep in mind it's supposed to rain, or standing in the corner, 30 minutes." A slight pause. "C. Choose."

"Corner." Another immediate response.

Can you imagine C messing up and then pushing horrible punishments onto whumpee over and over again. Whumpers persistent, "If only C cared about you more." "Of C stopped messing up." "If only C were as good a pet as you." "If you just became mine, I'd never let C do this. You could even choose C's punishment."

Think about the slow fall. Whumpee forgetting that whumper could stop it all if he wanted. Whumpee seeing how easy C gets it. Is whumpee stuck sleeping in a cell on the floor because they've permanently gotten the small, more comfortable room revoked because of C's choices. C not even caring if he screws up. Did he ever care to begin with since he's always gotten off light? How long does it take whumpee to break?

And imagine this. Imagine whumpee making a small, minor mistake when no one was around. (Of course whumper knows about it already, but just waits to see what he'd do) imagine the turmoil. If whumpee tells, C will choose a light punishment for themself. If he doesn't, he's being bad and he doesn't want to be, whumpers been so kind throughout the punishments C's picked for him. So he goes to whumper and tells him. And what does whumper say?

"It's okay whumpee," he says, pulling him into a hug, hiding a wicked grin. "I'll let it slide this time," he continues as whumpee hugs him back, "it'll be our secret from C." He pulls back, now looking at whumpee with a 'sincere' look. "Don't expect me to be this lenient always, okay? You just took the brunt of C's mistake again this morning and you're still healing." Whumpee nods. "Oh whumpee, I wish you'd be my personal pet. You'd stop with all the chores. You'd get a bed and better food and wouldn't have to take all C's mistakes."

Whumpee doesn't respond as whumper walks away and gets back to work, (or whatever), he doesn't know how to. Of course whumper has mentioned that before, but he'd never actually considered it. Why not? Because C and him are friends? Because he doesn't belong to anyone? Because he'll escape? With every thing he's been through, those are silly reasons. Whumper is nice to him. Caring. Always fixes his wounds. He doesn't want to hurt him. If being loved like this is being owned, why is being owned so bad? Is it bad? Who said it was bad anyway?

Whumpee is confused. Not knowing what to think or believe anymore. All whumpee knows is that he's tired and his body aches and he's come to resent C so much and just wants whumper to hold him and tell him he's a good boy.

The next day they're brought together again because C broke another rule. Whumper turns to C. "I break your arm or cut off two fingers."

"break my arm." C replies, somewhat mortified yet glad he gets to choose. The punishments were getting harsher each time, but this was the first one that'd leave more than just a scar.

Whumper turns to a mortified whumpee. "C chose," he says, grabbing a knife.

"Wait whumper!" whumpee begs as whumper moves whumpee's hand around to get ready to cut off a finger. "Whumper! Please! I was thinking--" whumpee's breath hitches as whumper stops the knife touching his fingers. "If I become your personal pet, everything like you want, you won't let him hurt me ever again?"

Whumpers eyes darken. "Now if your just saying this to stop the punishment..."

"I'm not," whumpee exclaims, shaking his head rapidly. "I've been thinking about it more and more, especially since yesterday and I--" whumpee looks whumper in the eyes now, not able to hold back a sob, "please protect me. You're the only one that cares whumper. Please."

Imagine him setting down the knife and untying whumpee and taking him to cuddle and reassure him that yes, he loves whumpee and is so glad he's finally able to have him all to himself.

Imagine later, whumper going down to wherever C was left when he took whumpee away. Imagine whumper smiling a vicious, toothy grin

"I kept my word," C snarls. "I did everything you said." All carefree aloofness now gone, anger, hatred and disgust is rolling off their body now whumpee is no longer in the room.

"You did."

"My family?"

That wicked smile. "Safe and unharmed, as promised."

[aidensm8]

I'd love to hear your ramble about the angst between the twins ❤💚 creativitwins angst is some of my favorite

Alrighty, idk how long or short this one will be so basically, here's the ramble about [the doodle]

Yea, it's a familial type of ramble so here we go

(Gonna use the little dots since I am terrible with paragraphs for narratives)

Story begins with Janus being p stressed about something Remus did (Remus getting into trouble again)

So Janus was in a p bad mood that day so he may have said a few words that stung p deep

Remus suggests "Well why don't you go ahead and adopt my brother instead?"

Janus goes something along the lines of "Maybe I will! I much prefer his compatibility anyway"

Remus laughs and tries to remind him that he did recently call Roman the "evil twin"

Before Janus can respond, Remus continues with "Maybe I should go be the 'good twin' and you'd be much happier dealing with 'the evil twin' by your side"

"Remus. You literally can't do that. Roman would never even agree to doing anything of the sort"

"Watch me," and Remus storms off

Janus is left alone to figure out how to apologize later, with the hope that Remus doesn't actually do what he says he will

---

Remus bursts into Roman's room, and proceeds to ask him for a favour

Roman is hesitant so he asks what it is

When Remus explains his plan to have them switch roles, Roman declines

Remus convinces him with "Don't you also want to know if what he said is true?"

So they design their outfits to the opposite of their motifs

Seeing himself in the mirror, Roman starts hesitating

Remus begs for the closure he needs, he wants to know if Janus meant what he said

So the twins are ready and off they go to prove or debunk Remus's point

---

Patton and Logan are playing some random board game in the commons

When Remus enters, he's greeted by Patton and Logan, who are confused and concerned on why Remus was there and what he was wearing

Virgil enters and panics a bit when he sees Remus

Remus tells them that he's become the creativity now and sits with Patton and Logan, asking to join their game

They're uncomfortable but Patton lets him anyway since he did want to try to accept Remus, but Logan interjects with "Wait, what about Roman? Does this mean he's primarily intrusive thoughts now?"

Remus shrugs. Virgil volunteers to check on Roman's room so Patton and Logan can entertain and keep an eye on Remus

Virgil sees nothing has changed with Roman's room. He's worried about it being empty but it seemed nothing was wrong, like Remus was lying

Virgil returns and decides to ask Remus about it

"Maybe he's just in the imagination again? It felt like there may have been a big celebration thingy going on there," Remus lied

They have no choice but to wait for Roman to return

---

Over on Janus's side:

When Janus hears the sound of someone approaching, he assumes Remus had calmed down

Janus begins trying to apologize for his earlier outburst, but he stops when he sees that he wasn't talking to Remus

"Isn't it a bit late for apologies?" Roman asks, greeting him with a bow

"Where is Remus?"

Roman tells him about how Remus is with Patton and the others, being the 'good twin' as he said he would

Janus panics, he didn't actually want that to happen. He wasn't sure which twin to be more concerned about

He decides to try to help Roman first since he was already there, telling him that he doesn't have to be evil, reminding him about how much the others cared about him

It hurt Roman to think he was being called evil, but he had to maintain his facade for Remus. "Maybe you should've told my brother you cared too. But instead, you hurt him"

Janus couldn't deny that so he decides to go and talk to Remus to try to fix things

He brings Roman along since they may be worried about him

---

The others are still playing when Janus comes in, dragging Roman along

They all look horrified when they see Roman. Patton moving to hug his child, Virgil pleading for Roman to come back, Logan trying to figure out how to help him

Remus feels a pull of jealousy, but his thoughts are interrupted when Janus goes over to him

Janus is begging Remus to come home, apologizing for what he said

Remus drops his facade, staring at Janus with the most serious face he's seen

He looks over and thanks Roman for his help

With that, Roman also drops the act and nods. "I hope you got the closure you wanted"

Patton and Virgil are relieved, but Logan asks "Wait, you two were acting this out?"

Janus looks at Remus, somewhat irritated. "Why would you do that? You scared Patton and Virgil!"

"Well I wanted to prove my point," he responds, nonchalantly

"What was the point?" Logan adds, confused

Roman tries to explain but Remus goes right to the point and states how it was to see if Janus meant what he said, and to find out how much he cared

Janus tries to say he does care

Remus responds with something like "do you promise?"

Janus gives Remus a tight hug, promising he means it when he said he cares

"I also care about you enough to tell you you're grounded for dragging your brother into this and scaring everyone."

[pigeonp0st]

hi! I'm new to tumblr so sorry if I request wrong or something but could you do a natasha x reader where the reader is natasha's secret girlfriend and the team finds out? You can take it in whatever direction you want but some ideas are them almost breaking up because one of them doesn't want to tell the team or the team being surprised that the reader is the opposite of Natasha in a lot of ways or the team finding out after one of them casually lets it slip in conversation. Thank you!

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #4

Words: 1,569

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any?

Notes:

Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy! (Sorry for spelling mistakes! Looking for them is something I despise to do.)

———-

Natasha is captivating, you’ve come to realize.

You knew it before, when the two of you were just partners and friends, but now—now it shines in the brightest of ways.

Natasha is captivating. She’s captivating to you like watching your favorite character in a TV show, or like honey is to bees, or like the ocean is at first to baby turtles trying to make their way to safety.

Natasha is also safety...which in hindsight probably makes you the turtle, and since you’re the turtle—the Avengers are the birds trying to eat you.

(Yes, this is a messed up analogy.)

Instead of rushing through the birds and taking risk—the risk being coming forward about your relationship with Natasha—you’ve decided to hide in the sand, away from everything scary..and really, so be it if you starve because of it.

Natasha thinks the whole turtle and bird analogy is dramatic, but she says, looking concerned and slightly confused, the ocean and the turtle one is sort of, weirdly, sweet.

Then she says, hesitantly like she’s not sure if she’s understanding properly, “if the birds are keeping you from the ocean—me—then, I mean, you aren’t with me right? You aren’t safe.”

It takes you a couple of long moments to catch what she’s saying, but once you do you slump into bed besides her to curse into the pillow, and for the rest of that night Natasha distracts you with food and movies.

———

You think about the conversation two weeks later and realize that Natasha isn’t safe either. These people, these Avengers, they’re her family. They’re the people who have accepted her, and if this is the one thing they can’t accept—if you loving her, and her loving you in return is the one thing they can’t accept about her—well...it’ll ruin her.

You don’t want the relationship the two of you have to be the thing that ruins her. Even the thought of it, of being the reason she loses something so vital to her...it makes you feel nauseous.

Thus...stuck between a rock and a hard place (a really fucking suffocating rock), sitting in the empty kitchen at six am in the morning, is where you vow to do your best to hide your relationship; for her, but also for you.

It’ll be hard but you have to TRY, because the other option is…

It’s Plan B.

———

There’s a weight on your shoulders that wasn’t there before, and it keeps feeling like it’s getting heavier and heavier, and you just—

Fuck. You just want to love. Why does it feel like you’re hiding and scared more than not. Why does it feel like Natasha’s happiness rests upon your ability to be discreet?

And yeah, maybe you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself but also maybe you’re not, because all it takes is one wrong move. One wrong move.

...maybe Plan A is selfish. Plan B is safer...but sometimes she looks at you with this softness on her face that just...makes you feel selfish.

You can’t break up with her. Plan A will work for as long as it has to, because it has to.

———

Plan A fails.

It’s your fault.

You and Peter are sitting on the couch chatting, with half of the Avengers scattered around the room, and Peter says, distraughtly, “I know you haven’t dated someone for a long time but i’d like for you to help me ask out this girl I like.”

Without thinking you quirk an eyebrow at him and say, “who said I wasn’t dating anyone?” and then proceed to completely freeze when your brain catches up to what you’ve said.

Peter tilts his head at you, confused, “you’re dating someone?”

There’s too much anxiety in your forced out, “NO,” and is everyone looking at you? It feels like everyone is looking at you.

Wanda is instantly intrigued, along with the other Avengers, and though you are using every fiber in your being to not look at Natasha you know she’s looking at you too.

Wanda asks, smiling comfortingly, “who are you dating?” Like your no was a yes, and maybe that’s exactly what it sounded to them.

There’s multiple things you could say to respond to her question. Smarter things then what you actually end up saying, but your brain is full of anxiety, and your heart is much too loud, and the only thing you can think of is to protect Natasha anyway you can, so you force out, trying to keep your voice as even as possible;

“A girl I met online.”

There’s immediate quiet. Your eyes are shut tightly because you can’t bring yourself to see their faces, you can’t bring yourself to see Natasha’s face, because holy fuck. You’re scared. You’re so scared. You’re doing this for her, so she knows how they feel, but why does it have to ruin you instead.

“Y/N?” Wanda says, placing an arm on your hand. Your eyes immediately snap open. Hers are apologetic and concerned. “Breathe.”

That’s when you notice your hyperventilating.

You feel arms wrapping around you from behind and you just immediately know who it is. What is she doing? What is Natasha doing? You don’t look at her, you’re afraid your eyes will give away to much, but you hear Natasha whisper in your ear—her voice so even it’s obvious she’s forcing it not to tremble;

“It’s okay, okay? You’re okay. Look at their faces.”

You do. They all look concerned, and a bit confused.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, laughing bitterly. Natasha’s arms tighten around your torso.

(What is she doing? You’re trying to save her.)

They all look at each other, uncertain, and then finally Steve asks gently, “what’s her name?”

It’s the moment the weight falls off your shoulder. (It’s the moment where the turtle realizes that there’s not actually birds around, and that the turtle isn’t actually a turtle. It’s a human, with a family that loves unwaveringly.)

“Her name…” you pause, eyes growing watery, “uh…”

“Her name is Natalia Alianovna Romanova, otherwise known as Natasha Romanoff,” Natasha says, meeting Steve’s gaze directly, and then the rest of the Avengers. Even Peter. She looks defensive, but not of herself, of you. She’s behind you, but it feels like she’s shielding you like you were trying to shield her.

Thankfully, it doesn’t seem to be needed.

Most of the Avengers look shocked, others look unsurprised (Tony hands Wanda some cash). Some of them looked more shocked when you said it was a person you met online.

Well.

“So...are you going to tell me how to ask out the girl I like now?” Peter asks, his voice unsure.

Natasha looks to be about to say something snarky but you squeeze her hand to silence her and grin at him, “sure thing, kid. Sure thing.”

“I’m sixteen.”

———

Later, before you and Natasha head off to bed you make a loud comment in the hallway that causes a couple of loud antagonized groans. “I’m going to sleep with Nat now! Well—not sleep with her, sleep with her, we’re going to be sharing a bed. As couples do...like we’ve secretly been doing but now are doing openly—the sleeping next to each other. The other sleeping together won’t be open. Well, unless—“

Natasha quickly drags you into the room before you manage to finish that train thought.

“The other sleeping together won’t be open,” Natasha grumbles. “So whatever you were planning with that girl you met online...cut it out.”

You smile at her, completely and utterly in love. “Babe, are you jealous of a made up person?”

She rolls her eyes playfully, then, abruptly, her eyes turn soft and she pulls you into a tight hug you weren’t prepared for.

“Oh. This is nice.” You wrap your arms around her too, though you’re confused. “Are you alright?”

Natasha shakes her head. “What you did earlier...don’t ever do that again. Don’t put your heart on the line in effort to protect mine,” Nat says, and she sounds more vulnerable than you meant her to be. “Your heart is my heart. It hurt me to see you looking that alone and scared. You aren’t alone. We’ll face things together.” Then quietly, Natasha says, “you’re my ocean, too. I need you to be okay for me to be okay.”

“Alright.” You promise, pulling away from the hug to cup her cheek and meet her eyes. You don’t want to hurt Natasha. You won’t. She’s already been hurt too much. “But, by the way, it really doesn’t make sense for you to be the ocean to my ocean.”

Natasha lets out an amused breath in response, then relents with; “then your my sun. You make me brighter.”

She looks so adorably proud of her analogy that you can’t help your laughter. “That’s cheesy as fuck.”

It’s perfect. Especially when Natasha snorts and pushes you away with a mocking; “okay, turtle to my ocean. Whatever you say.”

“You wound me, ocean, you wound me.”

“So now i’m a bird attacking a turtle?” Natasha asks, and now she’s just being rude. “Wounding you like they would?”

“I don’t expect a mortal to understand the poetic words of a god.”

Natasha laughs so loudly you’re sure her room neighbors can hear. You don’t have to care about them hearing anymore. “What?” You mumble, flabbergasted, “it is kinda poetic!”

“You wish.”

[eirikaanemo]

Can You Keep A Secret?

Warnings: imprisonment, mentions of starvation and sickness

Note: I haven't actually played Dvalin's quest but I tried to keep it as close to canon as possible. Feel free to leave a comment or message me if you see something wrong.

Venti x GN!Reader

1.9k Words

Your soulmate is secretly Barbatos... now what?

Everyone has a soulmate. And everyone is born knowing your soulmate's biggest secret. For most people it’s really unhelpful, but for some people it helps them find their soulmate. You’re in the latter group, because yours gives you a name.

You've known your whole life that your soulmate is secretly Barbatos. It's… interesting, to say the least. Of course you'd never dare to tell anyone. Thankfully, asking someone what their soulmate’s secret is isn’t very common. It’s considered to be very rude, so no one asks you what your secret is. They'd think you're crazy!

Barbatos hasn't been around for centuries and you're a mortal. This is the sort of thing you would read about in trashy romance novels! But even though it’s crazy and kind of overwhelming, you know it's true. You don't know if he'd ever accept you or want to be with you, in fact, you’re pretty sure he won’t, but you want to try.

Once that’s settled, you just have to find him. If he's anywhere, it's probably the city of Mondstadt. That’s where he seems to have shown up the most in the past, after all. So you move to Mondstadt. It’s a nice place and the people are friendly. Finding a job with the Knights of Favonius was fairly easy and it paid pretty well.

Unfortunately, the 'Storm-terror' problem starts shortly after you move. He throws the whole city into chaos the first time, and then proceeds to keep doing it regularly. The fear is all encompassing, but that's fine, you try to convince yourself. It will all be worth it when you find him. ‘If you find him’, your traitorous mind whispers.

It's been months, a year even, and you're starting to lose hope. How were you expecting to find Barbatos anyway? Shout from the rooftops for him to reveal himself and whisk you away? He hasn't been around for a long time and you knew that. And to be honest, at this point you've given up.

Going home is the logical thing to do, it’s where your family is after all. But you stay because you made yourself a home here. You have friends: Jean, Lisa, and Kaeya. You have come to love the city: music, freedom, and camaraderie. Well, you love the city except for the 'Storm-terror' attacks. Those aren't very lovable.

What concerns you the most though is that 'Storm-terror' is a dragon. And dragons trend to be important (like, archon important). But no one seems to remember this one. So you research. You visit the cathedral and speak with some nuns. You dedicate some time to listening to bard’s tales, asking them if they know any songs about dragons. One does, and it's surprisingly informational. You spend time at the library, pouring through book after book. And after all this investigation, you've come to the conclusion that 'Storm-terror' is actually Dvalin of the Four Winds. Not that anyone actually believes you

It didn't stop you from telling people your theory though, and being more respectful in how you refer to him, despite all the damage he's caused. Eventually they do start considering it and the city starts catching on. If you keep doing this, you may be able to change the city's perspective of and reaction to Dvalin.

The abyss mage catches on to this, and he just can't let that happen. It could compromise the whole plan. So one day he has Dvalin abduct you and locks you up. And true to your luck, this happens out of the blue while you’re taking a walk that you’d finally convinced Jean to go on with you. Which, of course, reverses all your progress and makes the situation even worse than it was before. Incidentally, this also does the exact opposite of what you’d been trying to do by stressing out poor Jean more.

The abyss mage doesn’t care about anything other than making sure you’re not able to go back to Mondstadt. The mage does not care about human necessities. Who cares if you die? Not him. He hates humans. It's kind of part of his job description.

Your prison is where Dvalin retreats to when not attacking. And the mage has to go report to someone else sometimes, giving you opportunities to speak with Dvalin. He never responds to you, but you can tell he eventually starts listening. You start by rambling about various subjects; then talking about how you know he's Dvalin, and that you're sorry he was being treated like he was, once you know he is listening. Because while you don’t know the whole situation, you know that he feels hurt by how humans have treated him.

After several days of talking to him, he slowly starts warming up to you. It’s a strange sort of bond that grows stronger as time goes on. He starts responding and the two of you actually have conversations instead of just you talking. Eventually you even mention how you know your soulmate is actually Barbatos and that you've kind of given up finding him.

He gives a thoughtful hum, lets you vent out your feelings, tries to think of an appropriate response, then allows you to drop the subject once you’ve worn yourself out emotionally. It’s becoming obvious that your health, physical, mental, and emotional, is degrading faster as time goes on.

One day Dvalin and the mage both disappear for longer than usual. After the mage makes sure you won’t be able to escape, of course. It’s not like you would’ve been able to leave anyway. At that point you’re not able to do much at all.

Little did you know that only Dvalin would be returning. They ended up facing the traveler and their companions in battle, and Dvalin was freed from the mage’s influence. The first thing Dvalin does is take them to help "the one decent human, that he actually cares about". You're in bad shape at this point, starving, sick, and weak. But you’re aware enough to hear Jean call your name and feel someone gather you in their arms before blacking out.

When you wake up you're at the cathedral and are feeling much better. Certainly you are not fully recovered, that will take weeks. That one bard who was able to play you a song about Dvalin is always there. You vaguely remember him being there when you were found. He doesn’t really interact with you much, he’s just kind of there, but he does play peaceful music that helps you fall asleep when you’re struggling to rest.

Then the day comes for you to go home. They’ve done all they can for you and you’re past the worst of it. But you’re well enough to be out and about. “Now you take care of yourself,” Barbara lectures you. “Don’t push yourself, get plenty of rest, drink lots of water, and eat three square meals a day, got it?”

“Got it,” you confirm. “Thank you for taking care of me, I really appreciate your help.” She smiles, wishes you well, and returns to the cathedral. You take a moment to breathe and just appreciate being back home, free of your prison and the small cathedral room they’d kept you in while treating you.

Taking a deep breathe you start on your way home. “Hey!” You hear someone exclaim behind you. “Could you hold on a second?” Turning around, you see the bard quickly excusing himself from a street performance before running to catch up to you. Once he’s caught up, he gives you a smile.

“Hi! I’m Venti the bard! Would you be willing to speak with me about something? It’s kind of private so we would need to go to windrise or something, but you’ll want to hear this, I promise.” He says. “Alright,” you agree, “but I can’t make it all the way to windrise. Would my home do? I live alone so we’ll have privacy.” He nods, “that’ll work great!”

The walk home is quiet but comfortable. The bard’s content to hum a tune as he follows you through the streets. Soon you’re home, unlocking the door to let you and your guest in. You lead him over to the couch where you both sit down. “So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, I was talking with Dvalin a day or so after we freed both of you and he said you mentioned you came to Mondstadt searching for your soulmate. And that you said your soulmate’s biggest secret, the one that you know, is that they’re Barbatos,” he explains. You feel a pang of betrayal at Dvalin’s actions and some guilt for sharing your soulmate’s secret in the first place.

It probably showed on your face because he quickly spoke up again. “He didn’t just tell me for no reason though. You see, I am Barbatos. I’m your soulmate.” Your head, which had been drooping with the weight of your emotions suddenly shot up as you fumbled for a response.

Apparently that showed too because he continued, “And I’m sorry I made it so hard for you to find me. I’m sorry I almost made you give up on me. Most of my waking time is spent incognito so I can watch over everyone while not being put in a position of authority. I didn’t anticipate meeting you ”

There’s a moment or two of silence as you gather your thoughts. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I understand why you did what you did and I’ll never hold it against you. How were you supposed to know I was even born yet, not to mention that I’ve been in the area searching for you.”

You take another moment or two to gather your wits. “I will also understand if you don’t want to do anything about this,” you state. “I don’t want you to feel forced into having a relationship with me if you don’t want to. The last thing I’d want to do is be responsible for making you miserable. And that’s not to mention how you’re an archon and I’m just a mortal.”

Your talking speeds up as you start rambling, losing control of the conversation as you feel more and more nervous. Once you realize you’re rambling you shut your mouth with a click. “Sorry about that,” you mutter. “I do that sometimes when I’m nervous.”

When you chance a glance at him, he honestly looks a little offended but mostly just really sad. “Is- is that really what you think I think about this?” He asks softly. “Because it’s not. I absolutely want this. I absolutely want you. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for millenia and I wouldn’t give this up for the world.”

He reaches over and slowly, hesitantly, so as to give you time to escape if you want, gathers you into his arms. You realize that he’s the one who picked you up to bring you home. Your ear rests against his chest as lean against him, and his heart skips a beat as you gently grab one of his hands and kiss it. “I’m glad,” you breathe. “I’m glad too,” he voices softly.

You yawn, feeling the exhaustion from your journey home and the rest of the day hit you. He pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “Sleep well, my cecilia, I’ll be here when the sun comes up and when you wake up.” You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.