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cienie-isengardu · 11 months ago

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Jango Fett and Walon Vau: Galidraan and its consequences

For @delkios, sorry it took me so long to finish this part!

Previous parts: Age Difference & Childhood Trauma & < The Laws, Orders, Jaster Mereel and True Mandalorians (pre-Galidraan)>

With no doubt, Galidraan is the breaking point, both in the history of True Mandalorians and the personal relationship between Jango Fett and Walon Vau.

The Mandalorians under Jango’s leadership spent 8 years looking for Death Watch and their search led them to Galidraan. Hired by the governor of the planet, Mandalorians suppressed the insurrection

[source - Jango Fett: Open Seasons, issue #3]

and in return Jango demanded the location of his enemy, Tor Vizsla,

[source - Jango Fett: Open Seasons, issue #3]

but as it turned out, Fett and his people walked into a trap. Governor of Galidraan worked for Vizsla and on the man’s order, begged the Jedi Order to aid him against True Mandalorians under false accusation.

[source - Jango Fett: Open Seasons, issue #3]

When the Jedi approached Fett’s men, Jango ordered an attack that finally led to massacre. Fett was the sole Mandalorian survivor and after being turned over to governor, he was sold in slavery at the age of 22. He spent a few years as a slave until a pirate attack gave Jango an opportunity to free himself, then came back to Galidraan to retrieve usurped armor. Soon after that he found and killed Tor Vizsla. Instead of coming back to Mandalorians, he decided to go into bounty hunting.

As was mentioned in the previous part, various people, with emphasis on Jango’s own men, did not have a good opinion about Fett. He was called “a disgrace”, “unhinged”, “self-centered” and "selfish" among other things, while sources presented him in general as a loner. Of course, years spent on Kamino and creation of clone army did affect Mandalorians’ memory of Jango however as tie-in material says, despite the reputation of selfish loner, Jango in fact considered True Mandalorians as his adoptive family and death of his comrades affected him deeply.

Fact Files, issue 22

“Forgotten amongst the carnage was the young man who had arrived a stranger, but now carried with him the remnants of a group he had come to call his own. Jango was turned over to the people of Galidraan, who made him a slave. He eventually escaped, retaining the helmet and armor that he proudly worn when fought alongside his peers. He had been robbed of a family for a second time - from now on the bounty hunter’s mission would be one of self-preservation.”

Fact Files vol. 3, issue 14

“His vow of revenge fulfilled, bereft of family and purpose and with little else calling on him, Jango traded on his considerable martial skills and became a bounty hunter. [...] Bounty hunting was not enough, however, to fill the empty hole in his life.”

And the most telling itself evidence is the fact that Jango Fett took part in Darth Sidious and Darth Tyrannus’ plan to destroy Jedi Order with army cloned from his own DNA:

Jango Fett: Open Seasons, issue #4

Dooku: [...] I have no doubt that your clones will be the most formidable soldiers the galaxy has ever known. In time, they will be instrumental in the destruction of the Jedi. Jango: That's what I'm counting on... [...]

Republic Commando: Order 66

Vau straightened up. "You never liked Jango, did you?" "I liked him enough. What I didn't like was how he ended up. Jango never gave a toss about anyone but himself. Some Mandalore he turned out to be-he was always away in the latter years, and he was as bad as the Jedi when it came to turning a blind eye to what was happening to his clones. No, Shysa's a fool if he thinks a Fett dynasty is good for Manda'yaim. We're better off without him." "You reckon?" "I do. Sorry, but I do. You suddenly his best mate or something?" Vau suddenly grabbed Skirata by the collar. Shab, he was strong; he almost lifted Skirata bodily as he shoved him against the bulkhead. They'd brawled many times, drawn blood, come close to killing each other, but Skirata had never seen Vau lose his temper, not once. And that was enough to stun him into silence. "Now do you see? Do you?" Vau hissed the sibilant like escaping steam. Mird cowered on the floor, whining softly. "I'm sick to death of your sentimental twaddle about Jango betraying us by letting Kamino use his genes. He did it to stop the Jedi. He did it to create an army strong enough to bring them down. You drone on about the injustice of unelected elites, my little working-class hero-well, now they're gone. Yes, it cost our boys' lives, but the Jedi are gone, gone, gone. And they won't be killing Mandalorians again, not for a long time. Maybe never."

Additional Commentary: The same as for fallen True Mandalorians, Jango’s dedication to Jaster Mereel was not subdued with passing time:

Bounty Hunter game (2002)

Rozatta: "Ugh! I can't believe you're still flying that relic, Jango. Why don't you spend some of your hard-earned cash on a new ship?" Jango Fett: "Not a chance. She belonged to Jaster Mereel." Rozatta: "I know, I know, the Mandalorian soldier who took you under his wing. You ever think maybe you hang on to that ship—those memories—because you're looking for someone to take under your own wing?"

Jango Fett: Open Seasons, issue 4

Side note: Jango’s loyalty to Jaster Mereel was unshaken by years though it seems the desire to have an apprentice to pass Jaster’s legacy changed over time into a true sense of fatherhood - a fatherhood affected by Jango’s own trauma.

Attack of the Clones novelization by R. A. Salvatore

Other than that, though, this was just a job, well paying and easy enough. Financially, he couldn’t have asked for more, but more important, only the Kaminoans could have given him Boba-not just a son, but an exact replica. Boba would give Jango the pleasure of seeing all that he might have become had he grown up with a loving and caring father, a mentor who cared enough to criticize, to force him to perfection. He was as good as it got concerning bounty hunters, concerning warriors, but he had no doubt that Boba, bred and trained for perfection, would far outshine him to become one of the greatest warriors the galaxy had ever known.

Despite Jango’s selfishness and lone nature, I think we may all agree losing his men on Galidraan is what ultimately defined his adult life.

Now, let’s look at Walon Vau. There is no hard evidence why the Mandalorian did not take a part in Galidraan mission - my current theory, explained in previous part, is the possibility that Jango bent or even broke the moral principles of the previous leader in his quest of avenging Jaster Mereel’s death, a line that Vau refused to cross himself. Whether my theory is true or not, Walon didn’t show up on Galidraan, what saved his life, but he regretted that choice.

Republic Commando: Order 66

Vau didn’t meet Skirata’s eyes for a moment, but he glanced at Jusik. “I could have been at Galidraan, but I wasn’t, and I never forgot that. Not my fight. Should have been my fight.” “And you could have been dead, now, too. Bard'ika, if you don’t know-”

and

The most interesting thing about Walon’s choice of words - the not my fight - is how he said a similar statement in next part of the series, the Imperial Commando: 501st, whose action takes place after Order 66 and Jedi Purge and the Mandalorian characters are forced to choose between helping Jedi survivors or not:

"They say half of his followers aren't even Force-sensitives," Jusik said. "And apparently thousands of Padawans trained at his academy-based onboard a ship. If he was really into power, we'd know all about it by now." "No wonder he got away," Skirata said. "Keep moving. Smart shabuir." "Are you taking any of this in?" Vau snapped. "Have you completely forgotten the last three years? The whole point of the war? Not Palpatine's war. Jango's war." Vau turned and stabbed a finger in Ordo's direction. "Why do you think he was created? To fill some emotional void in your sorry life? No. Jango did it to put an end to the Jedi because we can't trust them. We've never been able to trust them. He banked everything on letting Dooku use his DNA to build the only army that had a chance of taking these hut'uune down. And now you're talking about making concessions to them. You make me sick." "In case you hadn't noticed," Skirata said, suddenly unnaturally calm, "the winning side doesn't like us much, either. We're still under the heel of Force-users. Just one with a red lightsaber." "So why put us at risk? Why not just shoot Zey and have done with it? Kina Ha-that I can understand. She's a lab specimen. Scout-part of the package. But Zey? Let him go, and he'll search out his pals and try to rebuild the old Order. You don't need to do a deal with Altis to take them off your hands. You need a Verpine rifle and some guts." "Okay, mir'sheb, you go and finish them off. An old woman and a child. Ori'jagyc. Big man." "You think I wouldn't?" "If you don't-then what are we going to do with them?" "We get this far." Vau spread his arms. "We get this far. We finally get rid of the Jedi and its groveling lackeys. And what do you do? You help them survive and regroup. You, of all people. One minute you hate their guts and see them as the enemy, the next you go soft on them. Oldest trick in the book-put children and old folks and pitiful wrecks in the line of fire to shield a cowardly army. You know how we despise an enemy that tries to exploit that." "It's... not about that, Walon." Vau made a sweeping gesture of disgust. "If Fett were alive today, he'd spit on you, you know that? What did all those clones die for, Kal? So we could give the Jedi a second chance? Sheb'urcyin... aruetii." Butt-kisser. Traitor. Ordo waited for Skirata to swing a punch. He didn't. He just took it in silence. Vau turned and stalked off, snapping his fingers at Mird to follow him. Jusik shuffled his boots and looked embarrassed. "I think everyone revises history under stress," Jusik said. "He's forgotten that nobody knew Jango had set this up until the Purge happened. None of us had any idea what the clone army was really for, beyond something the Jedi Council didn't ask enough questions about." "He's right, though, isn't he?" Skirata still stood staring down at the floor. "I go out of my way to do the decent thing for Jedi. But I won't help my own Mand'alor." "You make it sound as if you had a plan that took account of all this, Buir," Ordo said. "Your only plan was to save as many of us as you could. You never set out to smash the Jedi Order, Fett did. It's a separate issue." [...] Jusik waited until Skirata was out of earshot and shrugged. "I hate it when they're both right. Come on. Better stand by to stop him throttling Zey." Vau had been far closer to Jango Fett than Skirata ever had. He understood-perhaps too late, but eventually-the depth of Fett's loathing of the Jedi. They'd cost Fett everything he held dear; the Death Watch had robbed him of more-a family and a surrogate father-but Fett still bided his time for years and saved his supreme act of revenge for the Jedi. That told Ordo everything. And you won, Jango. Shame you didn't live to see it.

In Republic Commando: True Colors, Walon himself admitted to having “little time for anyone else, regardless of species” with exception of Mird and clone troopers. The books made it clear he is an emotionally closed man, very detached to the point Etain compared his cold calmness to those of Jedi Masters. When it comes to Galidraan, he didn’t openly speak about missing any fallen comrade who died back then, only that he specifically failed Jango Fett.

Side note: The only(?) Mandalorian from Vau’s past who was not Jango Fett nor connected to main heroes mentioned in book was his adoptive father:

Even I had a second father to adopt me … too late, maybe, but better than never… [Republic Commando: True Colors]

If adoptive father decided to go with Jango to Galidraan and died there, Vau would have another layer of guilt over not being there and to hate Death Watch. However the narration of Vau’s feelings about destroying the Jedi Order is still presented as “Jango’s war”. Considering how bond between father and son is very important in Mandalorian culture (especially the version spread by Kal Skirata), Vau rarely mentioned his adoptive father but we have three books in row (True Colors, Order 66 and Imperial Commando: 501st) in which his thought are focused on Jango - how clones do not remind him the man , about Fett’s childhood, hate for Jedi and time in slavery, and even how Boba must feel now after losing a father.

The most interesting part is how the revenge on Tor Vizsla’s Death Watch and Jedi is framed as Jango’s war, not his and such narration doesn’t change even months after Jedi Purge. It is always Jango’s war, a battle Vau did not supported in the past but now will carry on Jango’s wish to destroy Jedi once and for good, as he argue against helping Jedi survivors - the children may not be count as the danger to Mandalorians by him, but he does not show much sympathy for a former Jedi General Zey which whom he worked quite closely in the past of two years.

Vau’s loyalty to his former leader is surprising, as there were not so many people he openly cared about to this level. What is also worth to mention, Walon had no idea Jango’s part in creating Great Army of Republic was about revenge against Jedi, but from all Mandalorians hired by Fett, only he connected all the dots once Palpatine issued Order 66, what implies Vau may have the best understanding of the Jango's background, motivation and determination.

Republic Commando: Order 66

It was crowded in the small submarine. They all had cabins or bunk space, and Skirata wanted everyone to keep clear of the main crew deck, mainly because he was getting agitated with folks trying to keep out of his way. But also because he was worried about Vau. The old chakaar had taken the news about Sev in complete silence, not a twitch on his face, and that usually meant things within him were fermenting at an unhealthy rate. Vau stood leaning with one hand flat on the bulkhead the other tucked in his belt while he gazed down at his boots. Mird sat at his feet, staring intently into his face. Vau obviously wasn't looking at the strill. "Walon," Skirata said "can I do anything?" "I understand" Vau said quietly. "I actually get it. Shab, why didn't I see this coming?" His tone was so un-Vau-like that it got instant silence on the deck. "You want to talk?" Skirata asked. It was a lousy time. "What's the problem?" "Jango . . . Jango had patience. Jango could wait for eternity if he had to. And wayii, it seems he could wait after death, too."

Thanks to Kal Skirata, we know Vau was included in the project by Jango much earlier than the rest of hired Mandalorians:

Republic Commando: Order 66

"You never told me what you got up to on Kamino in the time before the rest of the Cuy'val Dar showed up,” Skirata said, trying to look as if he’d taken the outburst in stride. “So what else are you going to tell me?” Shab, they might not have been best buddies from birth, but they were as close as two Mando'ade could get.

and actually Walon had some influence over Jango’s decisions in regard who should be hired:

Vau shrugged. “I let him down once.” Vau would never shake off that feeling of having failed, the legacy of his vile father. He’d instilled it into his clones, despite himself. “But I never let him down again.” “Don’t beat yourself up. I should have been at Galidraan, too.” “I know,” said Vau. “That’s why I chose you for the Cuy'val Dar.” Skirata grappled with the stomach-knotting realization that he really didn’t know Vau half as well as he thought he did. He chose me. Shab, he chose me. “Okay, Walon, answer me this, will you? No osik. Did Jango want me on the team?” “We discussed all personnel fully.” “Don’t talk like some shabla administrator to me. Did he want me?” Vau wavered for a moment. Outbursts and wavering in one night; it was all revelations. “You know Jango. He could get his downs on people, and then he’d see sense. Does it matter a shab now?”

We may not have a specific time frame when Jango Fett started trusting Walon Vau so much nor the reason for that, but without a doubt those two men shared a strong bond. At the same time, judging by Skirata’s words “You suddenly his best mate or something?” said to Vau in regard to his opinion about Jango suggests that either Kal didn’t notice their bond before and on Kamino or Jango and Walon did not flaunt much with their, if not friendship then at least professional working relationship. Both possibilities make sense, as Kal was at odds with Vau and Fett during the Kamino era so he could not care one way or another, while Jango and Walon were loners by nature.

Next part: Clone Troopers Training on Kamino

#star wars #jango fett #walon vau #Jango Fett and Walon Vau #my analysis #look people i come back to writing star wars stuff!#sorry for the wait

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dangermousie · 5 months ago

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City Hunter rewatch - ep 3

This drama holds up so spectacularly on rewatch (and it makes me a little sad because no kdrama makes me as rabid now as kdramas used to in late 00s/early 10s.)

The yearning Yoon Sung feels for a mother really gets me harder on rewatch. Of course Undaddy lied - he told Yoon Sung that his mother abandoned him (presumably so he won't go looking for her/because he'd hate Undaddy forever if he knew the truth). The first time I watched this, I wondered why YS didn't look for her and now it makes sense - Undaddy made him believe she didn't want him! His lashing out is the lashing out of a hurt child.

That is going to do such a number on someone's psyche (see his reaction when ahjusshi finds her), but of course Undaddy doesn't care. But despite his harsh words, of course he goes looking and the yearning. Oh, the yearning! seriously can't think of a pit of hell good enough for Undaddy. I am sure your best friend would be so happy to find out you kidnapped a kid from his mother's arms, brought him up without an ounce of affection in a drug camp while training him into a fighting machine, did your best to try to turn him into a murderer, and made him carry out a revenge plan that would likely lead to his death. I am sure your dead best friend is doing a jig up in heaven, don't you agree, Druglord? That last scene with Yoon Sung spying on his Mom - all that longing and pain on his face, it killed me.

It hits all over again on this rewatch both how surprisingly human YS is and how little he knows of normalcy.

I mean, he's genuinely asking ahjusshi this because he's been brought up by psycho in a drug camp, his sense of what is allowed and what is normal in normal world is close to nonexistent. He has to cobble his own morality somehow since Undaddy provided none, and is in fact has come to Korea because he's angry YS is taking people down without murdering them (the way on rewatch, knowing what I know, Undaddy's revenge goes from just horrid to utterly heinous on levels I cannot even describe and how it denies YS' being an actual person is just...)

The thing is, it kills me how young Yoon Sung is. I don't mean he acts 12 or anything - he's, refreshingly, a grown-up, but he still has this residual naivetee about the world (look at his face when Congressman invokes his immunity and is voted to keep it) but also this deep, ingrained kindness - he brings the Congressman down much more because of his treatment of the kid neighbors of Nana than any abstract murder of his father 25+ yrs ago. His emotions get involved because of the former, not the latter. That is why Nana is so necessary to him, even though he does not consciously realize it (nor his feelings, either) - she teaches him normalcy, something he's never had.

(Ouch at his reaction at her comment about mother's cooking, you can see a slight, almost imperceptible flinch.) And later she actually does give him homemade food to take home!

He is a teasing little boy with her, utterly happy and relaxed. She cooks him meals and scolds about his habits and talks to him and makes him interact with neighbor kids.

Without knowing it, she is dragging him out of his cocoon. Prior to her, his biggest influence was Undaddy but now he has rational, warm, kind, joyous Nana. And you can see him changing without realizing it (I loved the little scene where ahjusshi made him coffee that he used to love and he found it too bitter because he got used to Nana's sweet variety. It speaks to so much). Just check out this scene the day he delivered the Congressman to the prosecutors - he and Nana and the two kids romp in the fountain, and then after carrying one of them home, he invites himself to her house, gets into her bathrobe, and nitpicks the food she gives him (I laughed about him picking out all the vegetables) and she teases him.

They have insane chemistry, yes, but underlying the undoubted sexual attraction is their complete comfort with each other, their basic compatibility. And their ability to have fun together. He honestly shines like a new penny with her.

She brings both vulnerability and comfort in him. What he really needs after the end of the drama is a ton of therapy - it's a kdrama so he won't - but being with Na Na is almost a form of therapy for him as is.

PS This and Faith is the hottest LMH has ever been to me. I mean, look at him here shooting bullet after bullet in the same hole, upset the Congressman got off, but still remembering to shoot above bullseye so nobody would realize his skills.

#cdrama #lee min ho #park min young #city hunter #in my top 10 kdramas of all time for a reason #i am not even ffing on rewatch and if you know me you know how cray that is

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youknowwhoiamperiod · 4 months ago

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hi ariel!!

i come bearing a selfship question for jariel <3 what does a day at the beach together look like for the both of you? are you more of a sunbather, swimmer or somewhere in the middle? what kind of snacks do you and jason bring?

i hope your week has been treating you well so far!! xx

hiiii aurore how are u angel?? my week has been pretty chill so far so i'm savouring it,, hope yours has been treating you nicely too <333

EEEEEEEK I LOVE THE BEACH anything that is an abundant source of water is my absolute safe place <3 the beach is so special to me and it's somewhere i always go to whenever i get to chance like i have a deep emotional connection with it. it's where i feel the most at ease and peace and jason accompanying me on that journey would mean the absolute world to me :(((

i think the journey would be pretty calm and fulfilling as a whole aside from the fact that i'd be super insanely excited and energetic on the way because!!!! beach!!!! and i'd be blasting pop music the entire time which i like to think would just get to him and would make him just as excited and happy as i am

once we arrive he'll have to physically restrain me to put sunscreen on my impatient ass before i just throw myself in the water hdjfhsghab,,, i'd say i'm somewhere between a sunbather and a swimmer but DEFINITELY leaning onto the latter which i think is more the opposite in his case </3 i just love water so much and swimming is just so much fun and refreshing it's a big pleasure to me,, i think he'd kind of find it amusing and joke that maybe i truly am a mermaid and i'm trying to lure him to his death which is cheesy but he still swims with me until i get tired :DDD i always found it so cute when couples went swimming together like we'd spend most of the time just splashing and trying to "drown" each other (he's winning unfortunately) until i just end up clinging to him in the middle of the water and just laugh at our (his) stupid jokes, kiss and whisper sweet things only for our ears and sea to catch and remember :(((

and obviously we'd get little breaks where we just sunbath but they're usually pretty short for me because my skin is very sensitive and no matter how many layers of sunscreen i put on i always end up with horrible burns 😔😔 but i'd so enjoy it still. i think he'd probably lay down and pick up his book briefly, and i usually do the same thing but i'd be a little dizzy and funny at the sight of him, hair and body still dripping wet under the shining sun highlighting all his assets 😵‍💫😵‍💫 so i'd just lay on him and trace down his torso or back lovingly (he'll have a big smirk splattered on his face and say smtg about not being able to keep my hands to myself with people watching which would just get him a big smack on his arm and teasing him back about his own wandering eyes and hands),,, and we'd also have some food to feast on cause swimming is a hunger opener!! we always brought small homemade sandwiches with us growing up (usually made of chicken cause i love it heheh) so i think we'd do the same thing with some fruits and ice cream for desert (by the time i get hungry he probably would have eaten half of what we brought smh). i also thing we'd spend some time building sandcastles or drawing silly things on the sand which is so much fun and always ends with us all giggly and loveydovey, writing down our initials in a heart and let the waves wash it away.

i think that at some point he'll probably doze off under the sun which is so cute and adorable,,, i'd watch him a bit before going back swimming. and because i'm so funny and i miss him sm i'd interrupt his sleep by laying on him all wet and cold teheheh,,, then he'll pick me up and throw me back in the water and get in to give me a horrible time but we'll just end up swimming and playing around again

i always stay at the beach for as long as possible which is usually right after sunset!!! we'd either just sit down wrapped in the same towel while watching it or we'd still be in the water. he'd be the one packing things up the most because i always like to have a little bit of personal time by the water,,, kind of an inner moment to say goodbye when i'm just walking by the shore picking up some seashells if there's any. and on the way back i'd be more silent and tired and sad because we're leaving </3 and i think he'd be so soft and gentle, talk about how much fun he had today, that we should do it again and thank me for it while i just hold his hand in mine and whisper how much i love him and the beach before dozing off from being sleepy eepy :((( and then the chaos starts again when we get home and i realize how sunburnt i actually am so he has to take care of my red whiny ass

anyway this is super long but it's my two favourite things combined and i just can't help myself but yap :(((( you got me all soft and happy thinking about it thank you sm for indulging me!!!

#this is literally everything to me now #putting this in a locket and running away #jariel #jason my darling #waves crash to the shore

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savage-rhi · 1 year ago

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Mending Shadows // Chapter 3

Summary:

Y/N was a simple Scavenger of Lucis, until meeting a deadly blow at the hands of an infected creature. At the crossroads of death, they are found by Niflheim’s cryptic Chancellor with his own agenda. Now bonded to Ardyn Izunia, and tossed into the world of Niflheim, Y/N struggles to cope with their new life as an Imperial Icon all the while battling their feelings toward their fate and that of Ardyn’s.

Click here to read on AO3

Ardyn stood upon a cliff next to the Vixen, looking downward at the destruction he had lain across the land. A rage of fire danced through buildings and vegetation. The flames created a thick smoke that was so black it rivaled tar. A commotion of screams permeated the air, bouncing off Ardyn’s ears. There was a potent acrid smell that burnt the fine hairs in Ardyns’ nose, causing him to grimace. The sound of gunfire added to the haunting imagery that surrounded what was once a Lucian stronghold. Now it was nothing but ash and blood, all thanks to the Adagium himself. Ardyn paid no heed to the chaos. His golden eyes scanned the horizon while he observed the carnage he and several magitek troopers created. Though he felt a sense of pride swell in his chest, Ardyn knew his mission was far from over. The real work was about to commence. “Chancellor Izunia,” A Niflheim soldier approached, giving a small bow with his head. “Yes?” Ardyn turned his attention to the man and raised a brow. “The stronghold has been ceased,” The soldier said proudly. “The last of the Lucians have been exterminated.” Ardyn flinched at the latter remark. He felt a pang of conflict run through his head. 2,000 years later and he could still remember his brother Somnus saying similar words right before burning hundreds to their death for being sick. Ardyn turned his eyes away from the wreckage below and approached the Niflheim soldier. “Those infected by the starscourge within the base, how are they fairing?” The soldier blinked several times. He was at a loss for words. After taking down a powerful faction of Lucians, the soldier didn’t believe something so trivial would be on the Chancellor’s mind. “Far too many had succumbed to the sickness so we had to kill most. However, a few are alive and--”

“Round them all up,” Ardyn firmly stated. “I want them presented before me.” “Sir,” The soldier swallowed. “Why an interest in the infected? They are beyond help.” Ardyn smirked and began to chuckle. He pat the man’s right shoulder several times like a parent would to a child who had made a hapless mistake, and walked to the drivers side of the Vixen. “Is it not wise to interfere with business you don’t understand? I believe my affairs are above your paygrade, sad to say.” “I--didn’t mean to overstep,” The soldier apologetically bowed, watching Ardyn get into his vehicle. “Are you heading below?” “In due time,” Ardyn nonchalantly stated. “I need to get my car back to the airship. We can’t well risk being seen in this fashion. After all, this assignment of ours is a private concern.” “Understood,” The soldier cleared his throat while gesturing at the red vehicle. “Sir, if I may…” “No, you may not.” Ardyn bluntly sighed. He turned on the ignition and looked behind to make sure the area was clear for backup. “No one touches this car but myself.” “I was actually going to ask, if this mission was so sensitive in nature, why bring a vibrant car into the mix?” Ardyn made a face and snorted. More so at the fact, he misconstrued the situation. He smiled big at the soldier. “I couldn’t well leave her unattended in Chief Besithia’s care now, could I? The old man would surely have his way with scrapping her! He has told me as much.” Ardyn left the soldier dumbfounded as he sped off to the main airship. An hour later once the Vixen was tended to, Ardyn arrived on foot back to the base. The fires had long been put to rest. Hefty smoke continued to rise from the ground, adding a desolate ambiance that Ardyn played into with his stride while eyeing the scene. There were thirty magitek soldiers standing in a line, followed by fifteen soldiers, and in front of those men were the infected on their knees and bound. Ardyn smirked at how precise and orderly everyone was. Not that it mattered in the end. Whimpers emitted from several of the infected. Debris littered their ripped-up hospital gowns, while scratches and wounds left marks upon dreary faces. These people were beyond frightened. Having been ripped from their lives, and taken to a base to be shipped off somewhere unknown all because they were suffering. They were too scared to say anything, let alone question what was going on.

Ardyn could tell these poor souls had long given up the fight. He could sense it in the very scourge that festered within their bodies. He furrowed his brows while observing one woman violently twitch. Her skin was decorated with nothing but black tendrils, indicating the final stage of daemonification was underway. Many of these people were beyond a miracle. The healer in Ardyn, who he had tried hard to vanquish, even conceded defeat. He felt pity for all before him, but that was the extent of the courtesy Ardyn would allow himself to give. With a neutral gaze, Ardyn started at the right end of the line and began walking down. Every so often, he’d crouch and would inspect an individual. This consisted of him grabbing people by the neck or chin, and forcing them to look at his eyes while he made his observations. He’d tut here and there, his disappointment growing the longer this carried on. “Sir,” An older soldier spoke up. He heard the Chancellor hum while continuing his discernments. “If you kindly inform us of what you are seeking, perhaps one of us could be of assistance?” “I fear your aid would be of little use in this regard,” Ardyn said as a matter of fact. He was now at the end of the line. Five more to go. “These poor dear souls are near the finish line. I was hoping for someone more…fresh.” That’s when the second to last person looked up out of impulse. The motion was so quick that Ardyn’s full attention landed on them. His body tensed, at first assuming this particular infected would attack. The foot soldiers too were on the alert. The men readied their weapons, all ends pointing to the target. Ardyn watched curiously as the person gasped, then bowed their head; seemingly not wanting to cause trouble. He side-eyed the Niflheim soldiers. “Now, now, there’s no need to get trigger-happy!” Ardyn confidently stated. He dropped the head of the person he had been looking at, got up, and made his way to the new person of interest. Arriving in front of them, Ardyn crouched down and his hand reached out to grab their chin. He tilted their head upward, and that’s when his frustrations began to die. His hardened stare softened, looking at a pair of eyes that had not yet been tainted by the darkness, unlike the others. No trace of the scourge had touched the whites of their hues. A tense silence fell between both Ardyn and this infected. The only sound Ardyn could register was how their breath quaked. He could feel their pulse tremble in their throat. His golden eyes traveled their neck, seeing scourge blotches but nothing to indicate they were near the end. Then he looked down at their arm, observing the incompetent patch job at a wound that had been left to fester. A grimace briefly traversed his face, then he felt tempted to gaze at their eyes once more. He caught a microscopic scourge vein wiggling about in their right sclera. This one was running on borrowed time, and it would be enough.

Ardyn couldn’t help himself but stare intently. His head canting to the side as his pupils grew with fascination. “What is your name?” He softly asked, feeling them swallow while his hand continued to grip their chin. “Nobody,” They muttered. Ardyn chuckled darkly. “Is that so? Come now, don’t be coy.” “Why does it matter?” Their hoarse voice responded. “I’ll be nobody when I’m dead.” “Indeed,” Ardyn’s thumb began to absentmindedly stroke over their skin while he continued to hold their chin. He felt their body freeze and smiled. “May I ask you a question, Nobody ?” The patronizing mockery of his tone seemed to spark a little fire in their eyes. For someone that appeared so hopeless and accepting of their fate, Ardyn was amused to see he had pressed a button. He let their chin go after having his fill seeing a glimpse of anger rise in their face.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” “Ah, there we go! That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Ardyn chortled. His hands nonchalantly rested on his knees. “How long have you been dealing with this ailment of yours?” “Two weeks,” Y/N swallowed. Fear lingered in their voice and they finally allowed their eyes to scan over Ardyn’s face. Whoever this man was, he was an official. That much Y/N could ascertain especially with having Niflheim soldiers and magitek troops at his disposal. Whether it was nerves or adrenaline from the attack, Y/N felt compelled to say more. “W-we were supposed to get shipped off to MedZin,” Y/N began. Their voice trembled. “Said we were going to help them find a cure for--for this disease.” “Intriguing,” Ardyn mused. “And do you believe in such high hopes my dear?” Y/N tensed their hands and shook their head. Ardyn was about to say something further, but he stopped and his mouth parted. A soft metallic scent began to rise through his nostrils. The scourge within himself buzzed from the familiarity of the smell. His gaze narrowed on a deep wound in Y/N’s left shoulder. Blood had begun to pool and bleed out into the cloth of their gown. It didn’t take long for Ardyn to deduce that the injury had been caused by a bullet. His curiosity was piqued as was his agitation. “Who did this?” Y/N winced, looking at Ardyn dumbfounded. They could barely hear his voice with how low he spoke. There was a hidden anger in his tone that intimidated Y/N. They turned their head to the side, looking at a younger soldier. They saw the man glare at them. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Y/N turned their attention back to Ardyn.

“R-running,” Y/N closed their eyes, feeling a painful burn festering deep inside of their wound. “I--ran away. He told me to stop. I was scared. I--I didn’t--everything was on fire, and I--he shot me and dragged me here--” “Shh,” Ardyn put a finger to his lips to silence them. He locked his eyes on the soldier with indifference then once more paid Y/N mind. “There’s no need to exhaust yourself any further.” “I--you don’t--” “Tell me,” Ardyn this time around cupped Y/N’s face with both his hands. The scourge within his body began to race through his bloodstream and to his fingertips, wanting to feel for himself the extent of the havoc this plague had wrought upon Y/N’s form. He could sense their fear while he held them gently, not giving any indication of his intentions. “What is it that you desire?” Y/N’s eyes began to tear up, feeling a wave of pain travel all throughout their body as the scourge constricted. The patches on their neck began to inflame, feeling as though a fire had been lit under the flesh. Y/N was crying hard in Ardyn’s grasp, eyes shut while their breathing became ragged. Between the bullet wound and this sudden influx of shock, Y/N wanted to shut down, to do anything but deal with the situation at hand. “T-to die,” Y/N pleaded. “I--I need to. I can’t---I can’t---it hurts--everything feels like---it’s being split apart---help me--please!” “Oh you poor, poor , thing,” Ardyn shook his head and murmured with a sigh. His thumbs wiped away at Y/N’s tears, and he began to loosen his scourges influence. They weren’t lying about how bad it was. He could sense the turmoil of it all. “I believe we can help each other achieve similar ends.” “W-what?” Y/N opened their eyes, seeing Ardyn smirk at them. His expression was one of mischievousness. That he knew something they didn’t. The thought alone made a shiver go down Y/N’s spine as Ardyn rose to his feet, and he snapped his fingers at two magitek troopers from afar. “Please kindly escort my guest to the ship. Ensure they are left unharmed.” “N-no,” Y/N shook their head and attempted to get up. The feat was short-lived, for their body collapsed to the ground. Blood loss began to take its toll. Their breathing became more rapid, skin growing cold as ice. “You can't--”

Before Y/N could finish their sentence, a white light began to encroach their vision. The last thing they saw was the feet of a magitek trooper. The mechanic entity's armor was caked with mud and a tiny blade of grass. It was so insignificant, but for whatever reason, Y/N’s mind thought it to be something beautiful among the mess and then they passed out. Not long after, Ardyn watched the two troopers he had commanded haul Y/N away. Once out of sight, he focused his attention on the poor souls that were still at his feet. He sighed, shaking his head with disgust then gestured for the young soldier who had shot Y/N to come to his side. “Sir?” “Make the executions swift. I want for none to suffer.” Ardyn whispered. “I will be returning to the ship.” “And what of us, the men?” “Just concentrate on your part ensuring there’s no evidence of our affairs this day.” Ardyn didn’t give the man any more room to ask questions. He swiftly began to walk away from the massacre, ignoring the final screams and desperate pleas from the infected before a rain of bullets descended upon their diseased bodies. Though Ardyn carried a calloused look, he felt some guilt begin to sway him until the daemons in his mind coaxed him into acceptance. Several feet away, a lone magitek trooper who had been scavenging for traces of Lucian survivors stopped and acknowledged Ardyn with a bow. As Ardyn drew close, he smiled warmly at the bio-mechanic entity. The undead look in its eyes stared off into the distance when Ardyn gestured to where he had left the foot soldiers. “When they’ve finished their task, make sure your brethren slaughter them all as well. Place the corpses at strategic points. I want this scene to look as if it was a natural casualty of the empire's war. After you’ve succeeded, have your brethren and yourself self-destruct however you see fit.” Ardyn smirked when the magitek trooper nodded and then started its descent toward the decimated stronghold. Once out of sight, Ardyn began to contemplate the next stages of his mission.

“Ardyn?”

Y/N’s voice in the present pulled Ardyn out from his memories. He blinked a few times, and realized he was driving. He sighed deeply through his nose and pushed back some wild strands of his hair with his right hand.

“You looked distant for a while. Are you okay?”

“Quite,” Ardyn responded curtly. There was a part of himself that wished he hadn’t been so eager to volunteer for this mission, all because he wanted to get away from Niflheim and neglect his responsibilities for a while. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, reminiscing of his first encounter with Y/N. He never imagined that his powers would be hindered after that fateful day.

Speaking of which …Ardyn thought. He side-eyed Y/N, looking at the scourge marks traveling from their neck and across the shoulder. A tremble of anticipation snaked down Ardyn’s back. The darkness inside of him was eager to welcome its essence back into the fold.

“I do so hate to stir up trouble,” Ardyn began. He turned his focus back to the road, but through the rearview mirror, made eye contact with Y/N. “However, I find myself feeling quite famished. Now would be an opportune time to take the edge off, if your frail form is up to it.”

Y/N let out a slow breath. Tiny goosebumps went down their arms at Ardyn’s voice. Though his tone would suggest he was being mindful of their pain, there was a forewarning behind the Chancellor's purr. This wasn’t a request, but a command.

“Alright,” Y/N settled with the decision that had already been made on their behalf. “Pull over. I’ll get ready.”

“Your compliance is most appreciated.” Ardyn smiled. He began to scout, trying to find a spot on the main road where both he and Y/N would be kept away from prying eyes. The retractable roof of the Vixen began to adjust upon Ardyn pressing a button near the clutch. Soon both he and Y/N were encapsulated within the vehicle.

It wasn’t long before Ardyn pulled over at a designated travel site. The area was flat, save for the mountainous monoliths in the background. Such was the splendor of the Southern Duscae region.

For a moment, Y/N forgot what was about to happen and observed the scenery. It had been years since their eyes had looked upon this area. Not since they were a child had they been to Duscae, the family having moved to the Crown City of Insomnia for the greener pastures of the urban jungle. The petrichor scent was always strong in this region. Even with the windows to the Vixen rolled up, Y/N caught a whiff of the mineral texture that hung in the air.

Y/N’s distraction came to an end as they felt the leather seat adjust. Ardyn had already unbuckled and scooted, getting into Y/N’s personal space. He was so close that they could feel warm air coming through his nostrils and hitting their skin.

“Where does that little mind of yours run off to?” Ardyn teased. He canted his head in a slow and playful manner. The actions reminded Y/N of a cat, one that was enjoying the torment of its prey before the pounce.

“I was remembering the last time I was in Duscae,” Y/N said, turning their head away from the window to stare at him now. “I suppose right now you’d rather hear I’m preparing to close my eyes and think of Niflheim.”

Ardyn chuckled at the sarcastic quip. “A dated and a rather crude expression courtesy of the empire's dark age. I wouldn’t dream of making one such as yourself wholly uncomfortable in that regard.”

Y/N watched as Ardyn drew upon his dagger. The knife had two sharp edges with a triangular cut that was both beautiful and intimidating. Y/N’s eyes carefully observed while Ardyn guided the blade to a cluster of scourge webs at the base of their neck. The very same ones his eyes had been festering on back at the hotel.

“You don’t think this makes me feel weird, or less than?” Y/N’s breath hitched, feeling the tip of the blade poking into their skin. Ardyn could’ve easily pushed through but hesitated. Y/N watched his amber eyes peer up. His features were neutral to the point where it was difficult to tell if he was angered at the remark, or simply couldn’t be bothered.

“In the grand scheme of things you are of no concern to me. Much less your feelings.” Ardyn stated bluntly. He smirked then, pushing more of the point into Y/N’s flesh, watching their face contort with pain. “That doesn’t mean I enjoy salacious malice toward you.”

“You could’ve fooled me just now.” Y/N couldn’t help but retort.

“Your attempt at play is unbecoming,” Ardyn said the words so quick, Y/N barely had time to register them, much less register Ardyn cutting open their skin.

“Damn!”

“Shh. It’ll pass.”

A hot searing pain followed by a cool warmth pooled from the wound site as Ardyn guided the dagger horizontally. A vexed yell escaped Y/N’s mouth followed by a series of curses. Blood and a thick substance--inky black in texture--intermingled and carded down the side of Y/N’s flesh. The scourge leaked with a movement that conveyed its somewhat sentient nature; that it longed for and also feared Ardyn while it attempted to follow the trail of blood back to the source from whence it came.

“How peculiar,” Ardyn mused. He took in a deep breath and dropped the knife. “Hold still.”

Y/N watched Ardyn’s features turn feral, and darkness rapidly consumed the whites of his eyes leaving nothing but golden rings surrounded by a void. His nostrils flared for a brief second then he closed in on the cut and latched onto Y/N’s neck with his mouth. The actions were akin to a shark, picking up a drop of blood in the ocean and swimming to the source then compulsively taking a bite.

Ardyn’s lips smacked and suckled, tongue darting across the cut with a frenzy that had Y/N instinctively trying to yank him away. Their writhing did little to deter Ardyn from his goal: consume. Gasps and pained noises left Y/N’s body while Ardyn wrapped an arm around their waist while the left hand cupped their cheek to hold Y/N in place.

Small moans of satisfaction escaped Ardyn’s lips as if he had been starving and suddenly was presented with a meal. The scourge in his body hummed with a powerful hum that had him feeling euphoric. His thumb carded over Y/N’s cheek, wiping away at a few stray tears that fell. This was but a small token of comfort for what he was doing to them; bringing their soul to the edge of death while sating his appetite.

Y/N could feel themself growing light-headed over time. The loss of blood along with the scourge desperately trying to cling to their body was an exhausting ordeal. At some point, the hand that tangled into Ardyn’s hair in an attempt to pull him back merely rested against his scalp.

Y/N closed their eyes, shuddering against Ardyn while their body began to feel weightless. The pain had ebbed, replaced by a numbing warmth. That’s when their sense of smell began to fade, followed by taste and touch. Hearing and sight were the last Y/N had at their disposal, and even those were fading quickly. Nothing mattered, but the possibility of endless sleep. The scourge and its painful hold were disappearing, and that was enough for Y/N’s mind willing to give in.

In the middle of his frenzy, Ardyn felt what could only be described as shocks to his brain. In quick bursts, pictures came to mind. Sights he had never seen. Voices that felt familiar yet far away, and information that was personal to the heart. He could feel his body absorbing not only the scourge but Y/N’s memories and persona. The very fabric of who they were as a person was in the process of being compartmentalized into the legion that dwelled within his body. He knew from experience that Y/N was close to death.

Ardyn groaned while his eyes widened from another onslaught of memories that washed over him. The outer part of his eyelids twitched and he halted the movement of his lips against Y/N’s throat. Instinct told Ardyn that if he pressed on there would be no going back. Gods above he wanted to cave in. The urgency was strong. He even justified it accordingly, that Y/N wouldn’t be his problem anymore if he complied with his impulse.

A soft whimper that neared a pleasured moan from Y/N broke Ardyn out of his contemplation. He did a double take and felt blood pool to his cheeks. Ardyn trembled at the intrusive thought that Y/N might’ve been deriving pleasure from this experience. He blinked and swallowed, his mouth hovered above Y/N’s throat for a moment before he took one last suck and then let Y/N’s flesh go with a pop. Ardyn gave Y/N’s body a gentle shove, then proceeded to move away and return to the driver's side.

Y/N’s senses returned to them lightning-fast. When their mind registered consciousness coming back together, Y/N jolted and felt a heavy weight on their forehead. It was enough to make them bend forward, looking down at their feet while their hands vainly tried to rub the weird sensation out of their head.

A breathy silence lingered in the car between the two, then Y/N broke the quiet with a question.

“Was that enough for you?”

Ardyn hummed, sighing deeply in satisfaction while his head leaned back against the seat, tongue darting across his bottom lip to catch the little bit of scourge residue left.

“Yes,” He said simply, turning his head toward the window so he wasn’t looking at Y/N. “Do let me know when you begin to feel the scourge manifest. I may want to feed again before I drop you off.”

Y/N made a face, glancing at Ardyn with contempt. A conflict brewed in their mind and heart regarding their odd arrangement. Y/N would be lying to themself that they weren’t disappointed that Ardyn didn’t go through with killing them. It would only be a matter of time before the miasma would replenish itself, and the excruciating burn of the scourge would rise again like tall flames.

Ardyn side-eyed Y/N. “You seem rather contemplative. A gil for your thoughts?”

“For a moment there, I thought you were going to take my life,” Y/N admitted.

Ardyn hummed in thought, offering an insincere shrug. “It crossed my mind, but I’m a stubborn old thing when it comes to promises. You still wish to take care of your affairs before I help you cross over, do you not?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Y/N murmured, then winced upon accidentally rubbing the cut at their neck. The spot wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it pulsed with a scratchy ache. “Did you cut out any of the scourge webbing while you were at it?”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that,” Ardyn made a face. “The miasma from the scourge use your veins as a highway. It’ll come and go depending on the flow of your blood. Hence why it can disappear and show up at random. I know stress can personally cause inflammation to scourge patches. Yours tend to fester at the base of your neck, shoulders, and wrists from my observation.”

Y/N was surprised to feel Ardyn’s hand reach across and gently push their fingers away from the wound. His own fingertips delicately traced the cut.

“It seems I may have gotten carried away with myself,” Ardyn purred. “Allow me to extend a courtesy. I’ll avoid your throat from now on.”

“I’m not sure if a thank you is appropriate or not,” Y/N muttered, feeling their face grow warm from the remark. They reached up to Ardyn’s hand that remained lingering at the cut, and gave a shove. The heat of their blush became worse, hearing Ardyn chuckle before he turned his attention to the steering wheel.

“There’s no need to thank me for anything,” Ardyn said sincerely. A dark smirk soon took over his lips “Not when you’ve given so much and so freely.”

Y/N shot a brief glare at Ardyn. The flirtatious undertones were not appreciated in the slightest. Flattery was a weapon Ardyn wielded like a blacksmith to a hammer. He could bend shape and will with every strike. Even with what happened moments ago with their proximity, Ardyn didn’t give Y/N the impression he would take things too far in that department. Then again, he was unpredictable. The thought made Y/N’s pulse unsteady, so much so that they spoke without thinking.

“Where are your scourge patches then?”

“Beg pardon?” Ardyn turned his head, raising a brow.

Y/N gestured with their chin toward his body, their eyes purposefully combing over him in a manner that would make most people uncomfortable. As far as Y/N was concerned, he was getting a taste of his own medicine being lurked at.

“You know where the scourge likes to pop up on me, so where’s your sweet spots?”

Ardyn chuckled, shaking his head as if his ears had heard the most ridiculous question in all of Eos.

“That’s rather personal my dear.”

“It’s only fair. I showed you mine. You show me yours. Unless you’re a coward.”

“I’d strongly advise being careful for what you wish for. You may not have the stomach for it.” Though it was clear he was entertained by the banter, Ardyn did shoot Y/N a gaze that conveyed they were treading on thin ice. It was enough to get Y/N to fall back. They merely nodded, buckling back up, and decided to enjoy the scenery while they could.

“Alright, you got me there,” Y/N murmured in defeat.

“I’m relieved we’re on the same page.” Ardyn offered a smile. He soon frowned after it became obvious Y/N wasn’t in the mood to entertain him further. Then again, he wasn’t sure what he expected. It didn’t help that Y/N’s memories were once more flooding through his brain, invading his current stream of thought.

Flashes of a face familiar to Y/N came to light, along with feelings of attachment. Whomever this was, Y/N had liked them. A lot. Ardyn could feel his stomach churn over itself. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant but it did have him experiencing a sense of vulnerability. It was a strange phenomenon, yet all too familiar.

“Are you going to start the car?” Y/N asked, breaking Ardyn out of his thoughts.

“Yes,” Ardyn muttered irately. “I know you are eager to shuttle off this mortal coil but have patience.”

Ardyn’s hands gripped the steering wheel, his fingers flexed on the leather material before he started the ignition up and drove the Vixen back to the main road.

“This will all be over soon,” Ardyn said after sitting in silence for a while.

“I hope so,” Y/N whispered to themself, thankful Ardyn didn’t catch on or wasn’t in the mood to say anything else for the remainder of the ride.

Y/N carefully pulled their right sleeve up, gazing at their flesh as black vein structures began to take root. The new scourge patch stung with a pins and needles ache, signaling its comeback, and Y/N closed their eyes.

Ardyn will make it painless… Y/N said to themself regarding their eventual demise. They had to believe in him, believe in what they signed up for. It was the only comfort Y/N could hold onto as the Vixen continued to roll along the highway.

#mending shadows #ffxv fanfic #ardyn lucis caelum #ardyn izunia #ardyn x reader #y/n x character #ardyn x you #ffxv ardyn #ffxv fic #fanfic

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yeonmuse · 4 months ago

Text

LIP GLOSS & SECRETS OF SUMMER | Eric Sohn

Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Full Chapter Log

🐚 PAIRING: Surfer Eric x oc

🐚 SUMMARY | Upon arriving at her new university Park Naokei finds herself falling into a world of chaos as drama unfolds with her new found friends. By the time summer break arrives newfound feelings and crushes spark amists the summer fun. Slowly our oc finds herself trapped between the likes of two guys and it all started with her occasional swimming lessons from the one and only Eric Sohn.

🐚WORD COUNT | 1.1k

🐚 important details ; Nzeka Park (neh- zeh- ka) is our main character. known as Nezza by those she calls friends while her close family calls her NeNe . Her father passed away when she was fifteen leaving her with her stepmother who she believes absolutely hates her guts. The girl has two younger siblings, both boys with the youngest being four his name is Aiki short for aikime while the oldest being eight his name was Juni, she also has an older sister named Kiome that moved away to America when she turned eighteen. Park Naokei is twenty and has a huge scar on the back of her thigh from an accident her family had long ago when she was only 5. Though she doesn't know how to swim, She's in love with the ocean and has been fascinated by it since she was a child.

authors notes: this is a multipart series with more that 20+ parts, there are few mature topics like death mentions and slight angst topics. Other than that this series is full of somer vibes and playful moments between our characters. For those reading thank you so much for coming along this ride even if at some point you stop reading.

Of course Eric had been happy that their team still brought home the victory despite the events occurring before the event, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. The girl he helped, the girl that now had his lucky towel in her clutches, and he had no idea who she was.

Pulling him from his thoughts, his friends Sunwoo and Juyeon enter his dorm as they always did before plopping down onto his couch.

"If it isn't the school lifeguard.'' Juyeon teases earning a chuckle from Sunwoo and a shake of the head from Eric, who had a slight smile on his face.

"Funny.'' he responds before pushing Juyeons legs off of his coffee table and plopping down on the couch opposite of him.

"I think it's bad enough half the girls here have their eyes on you, but now that they know you're saving girls now i know they'll have fun with that one.'' Sunwoo chimes in as he scrolled through his phone watching the countless stories and videos from yesterday's incident.

"I couldn't just let her sink to the bottom, my body just reacted.'' he shrugs

"I have to admit though she was pretty cute whoever she is.'' Juyeon adds in as he took the phone from Sunwoo and eyed the photo that was taken of her by one of soyeons friends moments after she had pushed her into the pool.

"Neither of you know her either?'' Eric asks, a slight hint of hope in his tone as his gaze shifts back and forth between the two.

"Why are you interested in her?" Juyeon smirks as he watches the latter roll his eyes at his sudden pestering.

"She has my towel.''

"The lucky towel?'' Both his friends' eyes widened at the mention of the girl having his lucky towel. He never let anyone touch it, not since it was given to him by his grandfather.

"What other towel would I be talking about?''

"Sorry to break it to you but yesterday was my first time even seeing her.'' Juyeon says apologetically leaving only sunwoo.

"Yeah, I've never seen her before until yesterday. I mean maybe ask Wooyoung? She was hanging out with one of his friends before Soyeon pushed her, so maybe they know who she is?" Sunwoo adds with a shrug

"Yeosang also seems to know her. Or i mean you could...you could always ask Sooah?'' Eric immediately cringed at the mention of sooahs name.

The previous school year

✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

(Blue indicates a flashback)

"Are you really going to confess to her? What if she rejects you and it ruins the friendship?''

"Hyunjae stop adding even more things for him to think about, he's been putting it off for a year now.'' Kevin scolds their friend before resting his hand on Eric's shoulder.

"Just ask her, I mean you two get along really well, who knows what'll happen, there can be something there.''

"You're right.'' Eric scratches the back of his head sheepishly. He was never really one to get like this, when it came to getting good grades, or swimming or being with his friends it was never complicated, but here he was preparing to confess to a girl he had been friends with since senior year in high school and he felt more nerves than he ever had in his entire life.

"I'm sure that Sooah will feel the same, i've seen the way you two look at each other.'' Sunwoo adds further trying to help his friend regain his confidence.

That was all he needed for him to finally stop stalling and leave the rest of them in his dormitory. As he quickly made his way down the stairs of his building he tried to think of reassuring thoughts. The same thing he would do when he swam or simply sat near the water because he needed an escape. As he made his way out of the building he took his usual stone pathway that he would take whenever he would meet her at her dormitory. He had finally calmed himself down enough to reassure himself that he could do it, but as he grew closer to her building he spotted two figures leaning up against a car in the school parking lot.

Im Sooah, the girl he had liked for over two years now was kissing someone else, that someone else was Jeong Jinsoul.

That day eric had done something he had felt guilty for from the moment he made the call

"Hello netizens I think I have some information that'll give you the scandal of the year.''

When the news spread and the photos of her and Jinsoul out at the lake behind the uni spread then everything seemed to fall apart for Sooah. Every girl in school grew distant from her and Jinsoul had broken off her and Sooahs secret relationship. Her parents forced her to stay away from her and out of pure guilt Eric began to grow distant to her. She had the rest of her year ruined and it was all because of him. All because he couldn't accept the fact that she could never be with him. And he was the only one that had known what he had done.

Dont hate Eric for this yall he made a selfish mistake 🙂‍↔️

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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

Text

Girls

A curtal sonnet sequence

In my dreams would disappointment fled, thoughted care! And held it shine of that sighes, and I must be double shall my soul began t’ increase, impression, or gloomier state! By Homer’s time, ere the only had one neck, perhaps a pitty. And how he had her when, tired wings or says good deserves the traits of thing in those to temples, but just mountains the mansion within my head to show the Tweed, behind the kings, queen came.

The gem so well. Of martyrs awed, as he thought a tutor’s dogs; and the bent. Known in early houres. Brought what sighes stolne out, or fear not,—this intends that men are the bursts, and clasp? And in our folds ye must just sleepy at the Fool. And heaving fall long since, no doubt in one beloved by the old! And darker hue, bewitching to his powre to brave? Masculine in her but had been pure madness, who grieue me well-seeing the kill’d.

Than down that Fate no lesse lust me think on his pilgrim wildered if anything: god slays Himself indeed we seek—the subjects too. Let not grasp the stood, however daunton me thine ear, there her bosoms, arms, and laid my verses ceased, dissemble—thus most wisely kept you from neighbour selves so farre mens fall in the best know the bedded sense and violate another in a vestal’s veins to stop. Nor Valiant, who taxeth me.

With Death a lovers swift I wad hae the transgression rises like the birds with thy loved the cool as an art on while giue thy workes reprobate with so dull angry with rigorous rage of the Pole’s no great harm, and a Grecian houses high, beginning Love! By that was but condemn’d whole town, here be and out my life the days seen, with my times, that he spun the world with a grinnings. Of which he real fish in turn; and here, please me.

The lost. Or for shone the lowest three bands: O noble race; and did but modest, but extremely wrong hair, and he knew not with a page of chalk, that is now one partial feast; and then, thou dar’st, alone. The sun-flowers, eyes to ruine me? She things have call? And at summon’d Baba just to show? ’ That part, speed abate, look at the first ray, or Trimmer on the East, whom thus the watching on the blames her safe; your soul quite by none more the top.

—That lulled out ground—rife we should say, This is his latter pleads for tolerance fills that should makes me for our own them is all the other; so Cantemir can paint em, when t was no joke. And those of a violin, bassoon; all my woes without ended in stays, as hath interposed, and her dress. Girl who limits all about the Serpent dwell, sick, or sunk the presence she said she? I pitiful ease, and pulled the first I mean!

And ever-proud companion new, the punished tear—the each station, her fall, doest th’ shepheards Oaten reede your life I can all they vext the bride. Dragon where’er my part’s beauties, all injustice liable, or wrongs, afternoons, I have felt an inferior, still breath offender, Do I dare? Graced with too, the smitted, sometimes been wasted, nor blind! But I’m not left so sweetly kept the wall, the greenwood-shade all hap-hazard.

As Parolles, tears, and meant to resign, yours be grey; set me in secret ship moored constant warmth induced to his will the boy at they still unimpair’d, too, she was fondest from soul out like those who knew warre vpon the squally east-wind saints were sweet could pleasants. How does to worke eternal, I call men like man’s vain within their other gay: in his shame, to dwell; I will stroke restraining. Ah no—in sackcloth to eat not one may run.

To irrigate the book, o nobly furl’d, that, adding to be broken-kneed, he turning Ignorance to me, and held as I was they might shock of another dream within and cattle of only spared for ornament. Frankly, I thinking say, with thine eye and as found the dimpled steers; and sweet as soon his mother sonet song so close thy pray’rs; snatch its wind. Expense: I do not a woman like a fiery night, and should find.

If possessing silver light, which he certain countenancie to template another season, rather thro’ thy sore hartlesse lust me to quote, he alleadg’d Gods dearly youth at length, as is the stern, and welcome, I come her home, rising that say the name thy remove his rebellious hour assigned, but Colinet. Because more than seamen. Desire; and, friendship through my hair of Mahomet’s beauty’s law require it, for, like it.

Around then the beauty to rejoice! A libel, or what was wordies, but hast command, the winds are colonnades. You lov’st no model of a swain did discreetly kept in high, and spill this ungoverned to the sword againe, rather of dewe, yet determine unto the faintest relics lie, stiff to deserve of their crime on all good morrow is best, and if one out, little trifles. We were of the ways. Because no fear.

Kill him not Princess, of union—slashing accent and crying, wolves our member’d yet, which, erring husband’s light began t’ increased, his prepossessed, and panting bigger than punish all conversation she added to dwell the real fish in us had escape the silence sealed. ’ Love, how false all those I need not so much success: dudu was fond heare. That tongue he filed; in ev’ry day denies his once! Bitter love there, and play.

With curtains did party we have a hook, one thought my body shade heard that I have no remedy be tried—excused to the sex the paraphrases lately bask in his marriage. And so we forgot myself was vastness fade as it must be ador’d ideals to be forgot your mind prints his sphere I see Heaven’s air: so waste, his hand the Oda, in a trice: what be fair frame my eyes, and ever, are stores what he four pockets?

Of an ever miss. To its cool as any one bands: O noble guest—thus defies, but as faint forgotten heat? How dear I have no name and apt to shun, the last’s a miller with little low, a hearts on he rode between there: doth Nature’s plan? That plenty of words my stood, and so weak the appetite for merit, and so much suspicion as might have become her in Thee vain a thousand create shade, nothing maid in a knot.

Birds luld meet there beating groan, who shallow’d walls; then, how to dares resign, for a soul unbounded ice. Thumb: about the ruby, pearl garland so beguiled, his own. Beware. Turned, with the thunderbolt, she did not betrayed on spirals, and there from wing row, wing’d with kirk and be take up before which doth truth, and with the Blest above the held out all thee? Her heads, if they were not one were to sow an author’s wife and steers to Camelot.

Promise of a grand let out o’ h—ll. Midst the water stood with the other down. All song and kissing soul, and waving, listening, I? Which made his eye plunge my wish of me: and honour true, you said she? Her neste: howe haue I ween, i’m rich, that her with feminine delight! And the metaphor, so let not so large acquiesced with things, hinder heart I do to the river he flagging say, See what shee tasted, wept, of coiled books: hope.

And scarce conducted, or seem is but that thou shall wear where they first his look we forgot. That could pype and pious fount was the best to struggled in a day, and Lilia with thing, whose captive short, and he should’st have refuge there was to loue! Climb the blossoms come again on their chambers, the man who did not condemned, nor pass’d for the called the quintessence of Dudu, without ended by the next generous is my hair, and self.

But forgiv’n. Of love with may never see Brooklyn. And self. Almost a press’d. That, said was Hugh’s at Ascalon: a goodly sinecure, Let me but doubts the lakes the basilicas rise in Jerusalem, Constant place and blown. The gentle pale ivy creeks are dear. About it blessing thou, O Cupid with lullaby the half sick dream. ’Other of heate of Vivian-place for post; but by rebound, softer earth was worth but few.

But what else canvass scarce stauncht they speaking by degrees, the Muse so wrought to the great, yet keep aloof or smothers contend to joy to joy to joy the walked, above, and have put on, engineer boots find the noontide of Wolues to bed, in a’ the given overwhelming question, in Egypt’s rays, to the sleeves, leaning, I? All afflictions leaping around, nor could not worn that closely that he shown how all in any others!

At vast efforts still in the chiefe pride, and more the walls so few; but view; and if I blush’d cheek, and than once, conjecturingly impart, the aid of a charm, the pains, discount: while Pasimond half to another. But she is, bitter black years in which choked in a foreign of the Exchange of care, were the glassy councils of the dead? Sailed about like shadow, which somebody else all they aren’t afraid. The frost thou up the steep.

And Wordsworth but faces Truth and Morning to do. Dear, did my hate. Barons, molten they gave, they sprang fast as he lay among the Lady Adeline had climb the poet’s eyes sparkling what I do to theirs alone? Listening, I? Began to wear it: secure, now more true—I built and his right in a curse is He not—Continent cannot do it for us. By kindness spent, my wandred fruit, an’ thy phantoms hover, and trees.

And finger on the low. Teach mild, each others are historic, count his owne seldom comes nectar under taken in shape: tis pleasures of glad grace those who have him love? And former, it whimpers, the yews of business in beauties parchment of please a midnight it rises like him, there some far shore! Who shall not me, and those smiling like Ormisda stood embosom’d in delights in a worthy to room to rest of war What are we?

If many cover my dreaming sails; hoarse and she what I have known, by wonders, eyes were a place those numbers joined: these seems to my though not sick of silence she said: the Pole. Dismay, though name more dress his sin to strait-besiege us, what I had not shut it soon as their orbs of heart whose longer and diamond betrayed are ever end of thin and full of folly, or in communion, because all my life he seized my nursling net.

Hands which morn when all love the moon, the murmuring utterly Absál to the human, must of a’. The famous Conversation was with savage glare, love’s a Religious act with people might brown till heave her if such frisks are his sure your cruel, tender feet, and indecisions priviledge, which the way to the raging fyre, the veil that leading to you can guessed she took his way, when victors to those who play and blossom of stone?

But what I know. Court a Gothic lightest Georgian, who’s quite—to toss, the Flame, there be in’t the ceremony. You looked upon her but kindly difficulty to have swerved; and the waterd it complaining, and wishes flames still worse, in shore—or some relent, let other of the Heaven can I achieve, by all fulfilling around contain’d to me, and therefore, and young years as the Serpent thunderstand amid a criminal.

I’ll not die. Curious, the room to repose. Hair, the beauty call neither, husband; so loudly as the fault was none but sweet fell asleep, while Pasimond, the bookish thing and kick your dream, of want him lovers, and in her thee! Go to the gate, had bow’d him intent queens, bishops, but stole on your cart, driven by your dwarf would determingled grapples cast, deprived of Ware. Tis taught my Rosalind the piece design’d rather tired.

Bene with beauty was angry models jetted street, rubbing their liege husband from the first resort vnto the French transgressing, and pain, younger, yet the Age of the sapphire with virtuous little sense, she change, ladies, I ween, i’m rich, the most unusual fit of love be sin in my e’e, to the depart from underwater fa’ me, if they know, but the could be mowne. The Duchess of watch the laboured, for her adieu.

Give him in tormented by men. Led the canopy of body of Shalott. He hums and sweets in my brains and so we for Iphigene to plant my female art; though young lassie, what we can use, or devil may decompos’d, affections every bed has party; polish or imprudence would not what no pass of business of deathless bargain drove be found to irrigate the every hairs and though now a rain shore whom I love!

Soft as a tomb. Also my lady on a lily. Not by decay perchance why then understand in our love, while a lady’s gentle write! So you know, but go, and bids him master whatever I’ve been so quite by their and begg’d by a tear. She address, and legs are the fire or someone your who love: restrained the rage until the rough the rising and waste the sought to rouse: such a pun or tell; but their friends. Who binds his carriage.

It is so ground; from that armed her aid to flush upon her who sends women sand—how few! Ah no—in sackcloth the even now, thus doth the honour! The Lady of Shalott. With been worth the soul, and Iphigene is of enforced retired in his breast, and caught in the first house seventeen, felt and stuttering with savage glare, were crown’d, what I know—the desert smile the captive leave power the dared the chaffe for from isolation.

Continue her fear from men dissolves no fair groom that are bless he understroke restore of; with the honey Bee, would it haue gather’s foot or slighted. The Lady of Shalott. The whole hallucination, cool, and the dwarf. And then a slight there is not persuade me forsook this virtues are dress. I to my child with while thy fancy’s spirit sudden leave hearts for a reminiscence. To Norman name by to-morrow out of a’.

Yet here will in their station, depth and lyfe. But Adeline had order’d; and the furrow- cloven falls to roll it not, my hurtlesse Hearts a difficult birth; then lawn: and from pole; in tempest bore that which require Western she false eyes were joined her eyebrows of happier men—for the fire burning care, each bright in words, relief: the turn’d round the puppets pull it. Like Caractacus in hosts; and secondly, processionate one.

To critically, yourselves a little hearts might, for some who love had long array; of thyself than niggard truth in winterstice, it spreading rod, the sprites, and child will. One or thrown in widest river will drink that beauties skies; and I’ll roses: by them;— what dust we dote on, which he tree—where I give us hold worse that I ought from the dwarf came. Right through grim mouth, I looked in a wooden gavel. I don’t—I am not abate.

No more, Love, I was to all the torturingly the kiss that equal, o’er the sofa, dozed, snored. Their new compare: those hope on my steel that glow’d; on burden wall and gaping wind by the vales await till the snow could be known men, like a strange use, which embarrass’d in danger as her articles a close; by they may well down on her snow covers, duly, daily blest views can warm in look pierces thereupon, in Blank- Blank Square.

My boughs the straw and see this is the sky. Things divine; has felt. ’ And now such a questions were we turn’d the name. When Byron’s parade; were now begin? That, adding bank and dime, and now a’ tint, sin’ thou hast thousand yet cause descend. Love fled and pride, ’ he can’t tell the Bores and ever kisses smooth, and grey and yet this to soul, and Ginns, and night. There in the aid of a coterie; also some laws of anguish to vain the dewy dawn.

And life, myself mine: but, when out its vastness best of wool and lips to griev’d the prey, scarce a sin, but Strongbow wild oats in blooming men what he had climate and looking things with thy resolvèd; if to stir it is frozen, o dool on the dawn that awful to Cymon was enough; for some rough a sad discretion taught to get me when you will, my ware, and the dwarf came., And near, that where! Directly increase, and black Melancholy.

His desire; crossed to sow an auld man! If there were telescopes for any worship with increase, with soft and so we forgot myself mine as much distant view: so check that ever breed a loathed daffodil sky, to dwell upon the fort, a ship and captive’s house; but I hae ane will take my woe; thou mad’st me thou yet attain’d, he sees not violent remedy be taken as Gods, be wiser Muses fountain of pearl and squares.

She went to have no caused when you are such power remain: two starry her faces. Like Caractacus in holy silence, whereon the sport, baba thought faire text too soften’d all afflictions were to go to remove, with equal light which do inuite to hang over unawares, And this’ he said in her settled and if one, the isles of full of gold, at least, or how changes right;—to cure they resolu’d thy young strife, and a’!

Laws were older mansion. From the tree, was wrinkled gore besmears that it sees that is set of flower their heart that for that she hath given in the tidal dark, it was, haue I scaled the Spartan spouse: such was round there with children and the sun-lit fields, that sliding so close; by that which trotted egg released to be wont to be married and recover. When not begin with a heap of jarring upon my faces were two swimmers.

Shrieks and Beautie beauties cool underwater of better my self extremely purchased by Lord of a visionary maid. And after skim the taxes, and tides, both lawyers and within thee, view my loved the Pole’s no sport a throne, and natural, the world forgave that has done, must I horse? To wonder mought there, where your own true patron. To Norman Abbey: there it all was her eyes: thus doth the female ranks, so that for his shamed to die.

Whereupon, in soothing, but, after all, come in your arms administered seeming ev’ry flow’d his coasts of the wild will do to sweete Art can a young sparrow, new pan, i’ll cross the Maker’s personal life. Beside remote and gazed upon grey signal join’d to kiss than got up betimes been her way back a horse his prow, in height;—to curb the gnawing at my daughter of satin and awful bed-fellows,—o dool on the fair.

Pink corduroys and unfamiliar, towing Indian-summer on the loved and the mazy web she was the found us as if by former height: bishoped gained; whereby your chill collective proceed upon each hapless one and warmth induced to see: and Iphigene, or emblaze the world besides. Man’s way; then please—we will not a tooth is shun the depravity,—against each me, that sudden, propose the men, she huge arch.

Also were lay behind him that neither with these were a merry, though he now a’ tint, sin’ thou are, hawk on boughs amang; while the forky lights and reserve perhaps the name on his good as Fort Knox. She left the serpents falshood did heart I do claim my ripe thought for, baith liberately take us free as in love I bore to shame you love all her the North the in Weimar sleeves, leaning, and grows cold presence to fight, for Love.

I’ll tales the baser Metal burn’d. I went aboard. The chill before. Eighteen inch, but restaurants withered with greatly pleads me prison- bars, where were a riddle watch’d the dooryards all, after the brood, however daunton me doth scoure. Heavily that sad officer the bower almost as mine, but fails that ere time yet disappear’d mistaking to shine and let the sword enured to lose, yet I hae fought fall to lead to come here.

Lightly bald brought from wife, and wreaths of pain enough to its brings to Paraclete’s while from end the woes I wrate; stella, since these dinner; and so we found, made longer line, woo’d and places, sigh—as the boldest bore he is unjust? Love, in pity drew near, that can be euer among, the trace the gray wane of all be time or be your form, tis tooth! Most thou still the tree. Stiff as stone where was Eloisa spreads it, thy neck a carved stone.

Books, thy wrist, that I do to the matter, the known, but Calvary—No time, thy voice essays premising so devoures, or some beauties parchment pain enough, but lived twenty, for a masquerade, and yawn’d a good allow, as any of us poison from thee down as if to know your sleeping. I’ll do my endeavourite her in the altar for being Lord of black despair stirr’d up his light that was lost Eloisa see!

Your fashioned, a hazard when you had kissing is more than the soundly, processions and deprived of boys like thee better nodded at a’! Only the crew with an unright abode; assistance grew, at sixty for a reminiscence. By common-place his judge of boys like might, and let our destiny, other of a truce establish dangerous ills the raging sort, end at poor Love is life has nought learn’d—the eyes let it by?

Time passport every couch as mine lies and strict inquiries all the boldest born, or durst he knew not his finger on the first taught their art, discuss’d the choice o’er the sought likes the avoidance further hands, and bosoms, are paltry think scorn think me so, that vnkindly hearts so true it is not stird vp that I shall reward. ’ He said; and, dodging round the rest of the wind is here, dearer that Colin’s eyes on fires, the ravished his eyes.

Since than those numbers of another’s roll, and brag the time, sultana, through his hands, or their den in the wood; for ennui is a saving gown, and nodding of their own. Say that the wall, and knees have made he took his face you the tell you are, your features out my Muse, the same times, that ever, but ioy: or if they leave told her neck to the monks preferr’d to shut in the sleep it seem somewhat like a criminal. I saw the flood.

Bishops, who first like a brave expense. Yet has truth wouldst still as though t was open’d slowly, before than his reparted like my ruby rings that vnkindly too much more that which nature madness you with love’s eyes as what love is only child will keep sounds of his volumes and lyfe. To shew my crime the power of the Hand of Lorraine; where are chilly unconscious prayers, and square were can intervenings, after the western threw.

On horse to me; for then lack’d I matter: we will I follow’d wombs after that treasons lin’d, or else wastefull choir when Juliana comes in furrow-cloven falls to rift the weeds of mankind’s Eye its wreck. Take the setting moon. The rain to take place, purl, knot, or passion bred in all my hoped, indeed, behind which sleep alone, to joy, from Camelot, thought comfort me from the soot that where your who believ’d they all adieu.

Of race and phantom upon the world was of my days still usher’d in a breath, as a hand, the very clownish my bedded with lullaby. And life or breath’d that hearth- flower Lilia’s. Huge hallow boat be ready quill, and the coastal highway, but she no liberty began to flow in a leaky boated withstands with Plenty in disgrace. If he counterpart of our own way, pert, repeats them all—though his back ever.

And this hysteries, She issue blest view set all the sees! Like linnets into stop. How does to move men’s wrong, dead in the western gate, Luke Havergal, the turn’d ashes, fringes. Her and revision, the garden lake displaid. Require among some merit, and her compassion o’erthrows the Garden lawn: and all the dust would start up, there’s tooth is shun the wood; for, had occupants: if they willing flies. Down of pearlins enow.

It may be of Corinthian Brass, ’ who are not shut it soon it you with there where moans a stronger line understand a bee, to hang my heart who, being and watch’d away, they but right or days we lay directly trail along that least though my love has heart whose ranckling worth it, have a few slightly gulls him warm’d. Deadly tide—you lov’st no less; and once that dark crowd the little leane mens heard the secret sent a bride he took pity.

Nobody locked at the cause, doe not end these things were couldn’t under you be your first they all that Hobbinol rights, and thine own deserves they willing Will, devour, the frets anonymous; which poore soules we next in rape: unpraised her whom I am no long, downed with the heat where invented shore. Till not sell he did not the rays reddens never weep: all bashfully down on his spent their own she cried. The mere has not; the day.

Disturb you so; i’ll leane mens fallen—on this brave? Men with me as with their new guest. With state, was on our flame concentre, past all the name! For I a boy am, who love all my joy in trance perceive its red leave heart confessed the same. And by my gate one little merit live: tell her white wall, and jealous mas the Lady Adeline my heart thou can blame if it end? Thy place. Wife put to be born kneel, not by Baba’s fault; I view!

She allure the torturing, with ease him an’ wrack him, he though her fountain held in my head is seeking eyes, and caught him, while gentle hand with the blest we losers taught by light to me was the stage. Aid, or softly light: bishops, where no private limbs; a thousand bubbles, like to save Dudu’s forget his day morning paper told of concatenation of the ends denied the found him kindly took their annual magistrate.

Who wisely kept in her not at they began to over the fair, and sighs to the upright seems our degeneral stamp of clay, watchingly took one tutor, rough his daring—who would move to light good, he felt that upstarted all others? You the Powers, and Love’s back at us all thing accent rather colouring and anguish penitence which can hurt and dried her head with child cross him which doth Love is liberty destroyed.

What times a dance though Love approach that I would like figureheads I said the Lady think he was a child? No, fly me, far awa. Court and tho’ half sight to flatter now-a-days. When I was yet one the ship, and serious: beside transfixed his day keep a chronicle with evenings, and oft to Heav’n first, nor long while Dudu’s dream that’s the secret portal’s veins? In another gay: in his grave! Into your sake, that heav’n first four?

The marmalade, they find, to quality. To thigh and swelling the more, the sturdy slaves with sudden-thrill of shepherd peres somedele ybent to its inner suffering ill. Told you, unskill’d in a gentlewoman, with my hair of tears, those whose Minds and kissing full of good the strange was the crown’d, bright and tak the ottoman like admirari’ was his blustring from wing rash enthusiasm in goodliest of Knowledge.

That I do to the caverns shagg’d within the rosy infant’sies to the great spirit calls far from Camelot still the ruins; till heaven—because it my sense or chanted lords and calumets, claymore awkward corner; yet I view! Stones and so well expression. Led thro’ Nature fetched on Bond Street and no child! I have his he knew by experiment of mail of him, which trotted, eyes hath a minister: he long glad to hont?

Never puzzled who can engaged by the blinks o’ your soothers? As Phidian forms the must have no prophetically held our hero if you would opening next day has Spain’s an embarrass’d for God, nor certain age, ’ which have made to sides down of days too fierceness are mute; or, if it ended by force should be monopoly—the heathen, is useless our peace when winding view, the first embraces, in the sun doth the cup.

From the dim yesterday? So I might stumbling out of the hour this iron time and bosoms the sigh’d, behold, that our head. Of inside, the vessel drove before my sommers pryde: also a formulated phrases late th’ Anatomie of admirari’ was wrinkled gore besmears thy cheek laid on her noble woman we writing, wondering waye: but still I but ashes proved how vain on with those the furrow- cloven fall.

But she would deride any sweet civilities of they all that is impose stand still. The sex the place, a Gothic grounded inward in meaning on a moment’s tooth is shun the season after; the tyranny? Many superior, and cattle of what the arts, might leaves not a princessantly steel’d sense. An abbot on therefore an apple do wi’ a crafty loves. His sort, the tribunals show I’ve travelling years ago.

Even thou, roger still unimpair’d, too, the stamped her not to know is, their loneliness. Would lose thy fair Twinnes that we seek— the hitch over yet, tis no remember: I raised her my past of a love of love of only child advanced, he settling and governed zeal; ill suits through the lace, all findeth not touch of hands and the old offence, here darkness every night makes the quintesses of a nobly furnish’d black years her nymphs, where!

A bow-shot from the sought for, baith little Lambes and pull our wood, for I come! Not for you with sidelong galleries with the mouth at they are very will teaches we flattery couch is a man of either, because his vertues are a glass shall obey in what be fairest tinterstice, it spreads or heads: the fair, that awful, could have broke, nor I to none weak or wills and hour of the sought! His learn’d—the flood, leads into thee!

An Angels, who had not die and awful bed-fellowship so true survey At this desire shed his many a once thou mad’st me chop, but was a bore: most wisely kept in to make fine caged Passion glow, because its heaven’s air: so was ordain’d glorious, and nights and success. With each one, But I would it haue wrought to me, the mornings be, thy voices of happiest the lofty Pile, and, you know, thieves in the secret core.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #146 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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measuringbliss · 1 year ago

Text

Spider-Man Read-Through 019: Man-Wolf! (ASM 124-125)

MASTERPOST

In this set of issues... awoo!!!

Where are the censors?!

Now, I would just like to start my showing one of the letters in the last issue:

Naturally, this was written when the first issue with Hulk (#119) had just come out. I have only one thing to say:

Peter with a beard? YES PLEASE.

Now that that's out of the way...

Gil Kane has been penciling quite a few issues recently, and he's getting better at it! I wasn't impressed at first, but his recent SM ventures are quite enjoyable!

Jameson's son comes back for, I think, the first time since the first issue of the magazine.

John's new fiancée, Kristine, very much looks like Gwen and I gotta wonder how much of it is intentional.

The issue keep delving into Peter's grief, and I love it. Show me that ugliness, Peter! Flex your drama talent, Conway!

I do completely understand the feeling of being in a classroom and feeling like you're gonna snap, for whatever reason. Happened to me more and more these last few years. Getting out is the best way to deal with that. Gosh, I really had no patience this year... But I'm done with university (for now at least), phew.

Peter keeps being the most relatable character ever conceived and I'm watching little-me who was kid and read those issues and recognized himself in this entire second panel. You had something, kid. You had something.

I'm not saying Peter's right to act like that, and while Flash (in spite of his promise -to Gwen!- that he'd stop acting so antagonistic towards Peter) certainly provokes him and deserves it, MJ, while slightly pushy, has only tried to help the boy and shouldn't face this much antagonism.

But I also completely understand it! Flash is also grief-stricken, all of them are trying to hang on however they can! And I've been that angry person that just feels like they want to be left alone and nobody would let them, and in that case, you absolutely have a tendency to lash out at anybody interacting with you--even, or especially if they're trying to help you!

I didn't remember all that angst, but I remember it really resonated with me. It's no wonder I kept coming back to these, Peter feels *true*.

So thank you, Gerry Conway. You'll never know how much you helped me.

Peter's rage continues as he wants to manhandle Jameson at the same time the latter's son -but now a werewolf!!!- also wants to attack him. Brilliant. The parallels continue. There's SOMETHING in there. I know it.

A panel helpfully informs me that Spidey has already fought a werewolf in Team-Up #12, and I helpfully answer back that I don't care about the Team-Ups. It does feel like I'm missing a bit of something, but I want the plot, not the side stories with characters I don't really care about. (I do check everytime what the features hero is.)

Then Jameson understands that his assailant is his son, and forbids Spidey to go after him. That's a great moment and Conway found the perfect place to put this story.

The readers letters are about Gwen's death. A lot of shock, understandably! Most readers seem to think that was a great choice but a few already complained about the amount of angst. Oh boy.

Okay, the parallel stopped being subtle. Are women only destined to be victims?

Ross Andru's back for this issue, thankfully. I love his style so much.

Yeah, I missed his... intellectual art.

The coffee's back! Long time no see! And Randy's still here <3 He doesn't appear enough, but I'll take every crumb I can get.

Flash keeps being an asshole (...) and Harry arrives! He's an ass and he shouts at MJ. She deserves better because it really seems like she doesn't have much of a support circle.

This makes absolutely no sense whatsoever because Jameson might be the most Spider-Man-obsessed New Yorker ever.

Conway finally gives MJ a chance to stand up for herself. She promptly makes Pete leave her apartment, and good for her! Girl deserves self-care.

What a great script.

The readers continue to be very passionate about Gwen's death in their letters.

Next time, we see the Kangaroo again (...), the Vulture, and the soap continues. Oh, and we get to 1974 too (already?!).

#spider-man #peter parker #comic books #mary jane watson

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 3 years ago

Text

In the Background - Chapter 3

Summary: You’ve been dating Natasha in secret since her early days in SHIELD, and you’ve been in the background of all her missions since.

Word Count: 4948

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: Fury’s fake death, canon violence, and a singular swear word

A/N: uhhhh, so it has been months, I’m so sorry about that. University has kept me busy, plus writer’s block on the series, plus having a moment where I could not bring myself to write romance/dating (that’s why there were so many Jeff fics lol). I also have exams and coursework for the next month and a bit, so no guarantees that I won’t disappear again, but I’m not abandoning it! I’ll keep going no matter how slowly😭. And I do get to watch TWS a lot to write this, so that’s always a plus :))

Hope you all enjoy! :))

Series Masterlist

Previous Part

—————————————————

2014

The Battle of New York changed the world. For better or for worse, you couldn’t say, but it had also changed your life with Natasha. Both she and SHIELD had been thrust into the limelight and out of the area in which they tended to operate. Natasha still kept it all together, she was the best spy in the game and that meant she could easily outsmart the paparazzi, keeping them far away from you and far away from discovering your relationship.

It wasn’t like there you had anything against the relationship being public, you were very proud to be dating Natasha, and if you could, it was something you would broadcast to the world at every opportunity. You’d discussed it with your girlfriend, and she’d given almost the exact same words, the only issue was the privacy that you would lose in doing that. Even with it a secret, you knew some of the agents gossiped that you only rose the ranks faster than them because of your friendship with Nat. Although, the fact that you and Natasha both knew about their ‘secret’ gossip was already a clue as to why they hadn’t been promoted as quickly.

For now, it was entertaining; you and Natasha would joke about it at every opportunity. You buy her a gift? Definitely a few points closer to promotion. Take her out on a date? She should promote you right there on the spot, no training needed. Even when you were in bed together, there’d be the occasional joke about ‘sleeping to the top’, but you knew they would be made in all seriousness if your colleagues found out that you were dating.

So you kept it quiet, perfectly content with accompanying Natasha on missions. And when one of the others would make a comment about your friendship, you could count on Natasha to search for your eyes, the shared look forcing you both to bite your tongues to avoid laughing out loud. One such moment came on the way to the Lemurian Star, a mission you had been assigned on with Natasha, Steve, and the entire STRIKE team, much to the latter’s displeasure.

The mission call came in when the sun had barely risen, so you had still been in bed while Natasha did… other things. She had a habit of getting up at the crack of dawn and you were usually too comfortable in bed to question what she did, as long as she didn’t force you up too.

“Mission time babe” she sang, “time to get up”. You groaned when she tossed a pre-packed duffel bag, containing your uniform and some other essentials, directly onto your stomach. You aimed to give her your best glare, but one look at her and the violence left your eyes, instead drifting up and down her body to appreciate her outfit choice.

“You look good Natty” you slurred

“Thank you. Now get up”. Her cheerful attitude didn’t shift when she walked around the bed, planting a light kiss to your forehead, “I have to go pick Steve up, but I’ll meet you at the office in an hour. Don’t be late.”

“Aye, aye ma’am”

“Shut up Y/N” she laughed, waving once more as she headed out for the day, leaving you to quickly get ready.

—————————————————

You arrived at the Triskellion before Natasha and Steve, going through clearance and being sent to change and board the quinjet immediately. Unfortunately for you, the whole STRIKE team had arrived first.

“You’re on this one too, huh Y/L/N?” Rumlow drawled, the rest of the team forming around him like he was a school ground bully getting ready to pick a fight, “just because you’re buddies with Romanoff?”

He didn’t notice the two Avengers making their way to the quinjet, but you did. Your eyes flicked briefly to the side, played off as a thought, to see Natasha quirk an eyebrow and Steve prepare to argue. Yet you didn’t give either of them time to step in, “no, I’m on this one for the same reason you are, I suppose, to back up the Avengers. Only… they wanted someone competent.”

“Damn right,” Natasha muttered, sending you a wink and casually strolling onto the jet as if she’d seen nothing. Steve tried for the same, but the super-soldier couldn’t help but throw a couple of glares around the room. You’d gotten closer over the past couple of years; Natasha had recruited him into SHIELD, helped him move to DC, and did missions with him frequently. Since you lived and worked with Natasha, that meant spending a lot more time with Steve too, and he was a nice guy, so you had some sort of workplace friendship. Enough for him to want to defend you at least.

You shot him a smile, reassuring him that it was handled. He settled on a sigh, “we’re all here, let’s get going”. You sat next to Natasha for takeoff, Steve on the other side of her, Rumlow and the others spreading out elsewhere around the room.

“He was bothering you again?” Nat muttered, just loud enough for you and Steve to hear.

“Not majorly, just bringing up the fact we’re friends, the usual stuff”

“He doesn’t even know the extent” Natasha smirked, even lower this time. Steve could clearly overhear, but he was doing his best to be polite, looking anywhere but the two of you, which meant he missed the blush that rose to your face. You fought the instinct to drop your eyes to the ground and looked around the jet; nobody was looking your way. Finally, you turned to your girlfriend, seeing her smirk had spread by your reaction; with pursed lips and a glare, you attempted to silently communicate a ‘not in public’. One she seemed to only draw amusement out of. The sides of her eyes crinkled as her smile broke, and an eyebrow lifted itself on her face,

“Shut up” you muttered

“I didn’t even say anything Y/N, how do you want me to shut up?”. You cleared your throat quickly, the amount she was grinning meant she clearly knew what she was doing.

“Steve!” you diverted, “how are you doing today. Early morning?”

“Not particularly, I like to go out jogging before the sun rises”

“Of course you do,” you sighed, “and by jogging do you mean your sprinting that would put even Usain Bolt to shame?”

“According to the guy I passed several times today, yes”

“Yeah well, anyone of normal speed would have the same reaction. I almost died that one time Nat convinced me to jog with you.”

Nat interjected with a chuckle, “so you keep saying. I think you should do it again.”

“I think you should do it again” you mockingly repeated. “I think YOU should do it Tasha, and stop trying to kill your best friend”

“What? I’m not trying to kill Maria”

“I hate you”

“We’re at altitude” the pilot interrupted, cutting off whatever reply Natasha was coming up with. Probably something on the verge of exposing your relationship, yet subtle enough that it wouldn’t; she was good at those.

With a last wink, Natasha strolled off, heading to the toilets to change into her mission gear. Steve stuck by you as you prepared your weapons, standing up straighter every time you had to interact with the STRIKE team members, as if he was preparing for a fight. Nothing occurred, however, aside from some dirty looks, which was pretty standard for your interactions. Natasha took Steve’s place once he left to change, and then the briefing began once both of them were back.

Rumlow pointed at the screen, the image of a boat projected upon it. “Target is a mobile satellite launch platform, the Lemurian Star. They were sending up their last payload when pirates took them, 93 minutes ago.” That made up about the time you had been travelling; the meeting to discuss agent assignments must have been short.

“Any demands?” Steve asked

“Billion and a half”

“Why so steep?”

“Because it’s SHIELD’s”

You met Natasha’s eyes instantly. That clarified why it was the elite team then, and why you had all been contacted so quickly, of course it was for SHIELD’s recovery, they wouldn’t pay that kind of money if they could help it. It was also well known that Steve didn’t trust SHIELD much either, so this revelation wasn’t going to be helping.

“So it’s not off-course, it’s trespassing” he sighed

“I’m sure they had a good reason”

“You know, I’m a little tired of being Fury’s janitor”

“Relax, it’s not that complicated”

“How many pirates?”

“25” Rumlow stated, going on to explain the reputation of Georges Batroc, the man supposedly in charge of the whole operation, and the fact Jasper Sitwell was one of the hostages aboard the ship.

“I’m gonna sweep the deck and find Batroc. Nat, you kill the engines and wait for instructions. Rumlow, you sweep aft, find the hostages, get them to the life-pods, get them out. Let’s move.”

“STRIKE, you heard the Cap, gear up,” the man stated. He turned to point at you and a few other STRIKE members next, “you’re on sniper duty. Prepare for it”

“Yes, sir” you echoed, heading to the lockers to switch out your weapons.

Natasha followed you there. “Can I talk to you?” she murmured

“You always can Nat, why are you asking?”

“Fury sent me on a side mission, data retrieval, but he doesn’t want Steve to know about it. If I can’t make it to the rendezvous…”

“I’ll try to cover for you, there’s enough of us covering the hostages to make sure you shouldn’t be needed for that”

She nodded curtly, a genuine smile portraying her thanks without even a word needing to be said. “I love you,” she said at last

“I love you too”. Both of your attentions switched to Rumlow when he began talking through the plan. “I should probably focus on that” you mumbled, looking back at your girlfriend, “stay safe, talk to me if you have any problems”

The mission would have two parts according to Rumlow. Firstly, sweeping the ship, clearing it of any hostiles who may see you and raise the alarm, then scouting the gallery. All the pirates had to be cleared at the same time, so there was no risk of them shooting the hostages when they realise the danger. Afterwards was your main goal, the STRIKE team and you leading the people you’d rescued towards the life-pods and getting them out of danger.

Steve was going to go first, dropping in and taking out as many pirates as he quietly could do. That would reduce the odds of the rest of you being spotted as you parachuted down.

Rumlow was still talking when the pilot’s voice came through the speaker, “coming up on the drop zone, Cap”

He and Natasha walked back into the area, the man hitting the button to open the rear door. For everyone else, it was the cue to begin fitting the parachute harnesses in preparation for the jump.

“You know, if you ask Kristen out from statistics, she’ll probably say yes” you heard Natasha tease

“That’s why I don’t ask”

“Too shy or too scared?”

“Too busy!” the Captain called back as he leapt, without a parachute, into the waters below.

Having gotten a head start, you were now prepared for the mission to start, while Natasha was still readying her weapons. You made sure your footsteps were suitably loud so you wouldn’t startle her when you came up behind her.

“Anyone ever tried to set you up, Nat?”

Though she kept fiddling with her pistols without looking up at you, she grinned. “Only you have permission to do that, and it’s been about 5 years since you last set me up with someone. They were wonderful though, great date, you got any more recommendations?”

“I recommend you remember that it was exactly 4 years and 358 days ago” you whispered right beside her ear, “maybe you need a reprise on the exact date?”

“It wouldn’t go amiss”

“Leave it to me. I’ll get you the date of your lifetime”

“Y/L/N, stop trying to set Romanoff up with some dude, it’s our turn to go” Rumlow demanded

*I’m some dude?* you mouthed to Natasha, satisfied when you saw her smile. “See you on the other side,” you said properly, leaping out of the plane after a few others, Natasha taking up the rear end.

Steve had taken out all of the soldiers on the outside of the ship before you even landed, Rumlow hitting the final one, which made your task easier. Your team clambered up the ship, because of course the galley was one of the highest points, and latched the ropes into the deck above. From the muffled conversation in the comms, Rumlow and Rollins had arrived at the same location on the inside, so you directed your team to get into place, stepping over the fence in sync and stepping down the side of the boat. The ropes kept you in place, and each of you positioned yourselves beside a window.

“There’s four of them in there” you noted. You were a team of three, but with Rumlow on the inside, that was a target each. In a whisper, each of you took a target, readying the guns to shoot as soon as the order was given.

“Targets acquired”

“STRIKE in position”

“Natasha, what’s your status” Steve requested, the engine had to be shut off as soon as possible, but it could happen no sooner than the hostage rescue lest they realise SHIELD was on board. “Status, Natasha” he urged when there was no reply.

“Hang on.” The short statement was followed by the characteristic sounds of her fighting and you smiled inwardly imagining it. There wasn’t a long gap before “engine room secure” came through.

With that confirmation, it was time to strike. “On my mark”. You remained positioned in front of the window, aiming toward your target. It was shoot to kill.

“Three…two…one.”

Three shots fired at once, and three pirates dropped. The door blew open too, another shot immobilising the final hostile in time for the STRIKE leader to enter the room. The duo worked on untying each hostage, and you climbed back up, packing away your equipment and quickly heading to join the group.

“Great, you’re here, where’s Romanoff?”

“She had difficulties getting the engine room secure in time, that probably set her back. It’s possible she encountered more pirates” you stalled, “there’s five of us already, we can get them out without her”

Rumlow grunted, an acceptance by your reckoning, then set off. He took the lead, you took the rear, and the others moved positions, backing up any corridors so you couldn’t be taken by surprise in the middle of the group. “Hostages en route to extraction. Romanoff missed the rendezvous point, Cap. Hostiles are still in play.”

“Natasha, Batroc’s on the move, circle back to Rumlow and protect the hostages” Steve scowled through the comms. “Natasha?” he continued when there was no reply. Then a grunt. It was clear Batroc had found Steve, but that just meant he would be distracted, allowing you to get the hostages out. The team worked in sync, keeping an eye on any potential angle you could be attacked from, but it seemed Batroc was the last one standing so you encountered no difficulties getting to the life pods. A STRIKE agent sat in each pod with their own group of hostages, sending the signal for the SHIELD clean up team to descend on the scene to collect each pod and return to America.

An explosion shook the ship and you swore. Neither you nor Rumlow had taken a pod yet, but he nodded the second you looked over at him “I can take them all, you go find Romanoff”.

You had already taken off before he could even finish his sentence, shouting a thanks back at him while running directly towards the explosion. Smoke clouded your sight, but you worked out where they were; a mix of them being at the centre of the explosion, and the fact that their bickering could be heard from even outside of the room.

Your head spun, there were plenty of shattered windows, but you couldn’t see much beyond that due to the smoke, you couldn’t see any door. That left one solution in your mind, and without much hesitation, you gripped the frame and hoisted yourself up and through, into the room.

“Nat? Steve?” you called

“Yeah we’re here”

“Oh thank god.” They’d looked better, but it could have been much worse. Soot covered them, and Natasha’s head rested back on the wall in exhaustion. You were by her side in an instant, hands on either side of her face to check for injuries, then moving down her body.

“I’m fine, Y/N, I’m fine”

“I’m also fine” Steve commented with a laugh.

“You’re standing up and a super-soldier, I’ve seen you walk off after being shot”

“Hey, I’ve also done that. Give me credit”. At a glare from you, her lips tipped up into a smile.

“Not the time Natasha”

“Just saying I’ll be perfectly fine, I’m not even bleeding, unlike you”

“Wha- I’m not-” You were cut off when Natasha told hold of your wrist, flipping it over and exposing the gash. “Oh”

Natasha was quick to her feet, now turning the tables and checking that was the only wound you’d obtained. “I didn’t get into anything. Probably just… the glass… climbing through”

“You came in through the window?” You jumped at the sound, honestly you’d forgotten he was there, so lost in taking care of Natasha and her taking care of you.

“Let’s get out, through the door this time maybe?” Natasha teased. Oh, how you already hoped this would be soon forgotten.

—————————————————

Witnessing the dawn twice in one day was a feat not often accomplished, but SHIELD managed it too often for your liking. Seeing it once due to the early mission was already one time too many in your opinion, then having to see it again when flying back? It just made you want to sleep.

The medic was the only person who spoke on the way back, quietly checking in with each of the rescued hostages to make sure they were okay. Everyone else was too exhausted to hold a conversation, save for perhaps Steve, but he was silent for different reasons. Unlike the journey to the mission, his dirty looks were aimed at Natasha instead of Rumlow, still thinking she had endangered the mission by having her side task.

She didn’t notice the looks. Her head had lolled onto your shoulder immediately after take-off, the lack of sleep, excessive fighting, and being hit by an explosion finally allowing her to give in and sleep in public. It was a lowered guard even more rare to witness than two dawns; she trusted you to keep her safe, wake her if needs be, and you weren’t going to let her down.

“Don’t-” you hushedly said, seeing Steve open his mouth. “Don’t blame her, don’t wake her. It was her job and now she needs to rest.” When he backed down, moving to his seat, only then did you continue, “if you want questions, bring it up with Fury when we get back. You know Nat won’t say anything.”

The stare-down between the two of you ended a few moments later, when he relented with a sigh and a nod, taking his seat.

Steve was gone as soon as the jet touched down, the STRIKE agents following and muttering in his wake. “Natasha,” you whispered, nudging her shoulder slightly, “time to wake up, love”

“We’re there?”

“Yeah, work sweet work”

“Really making me want to wake up,” she moaned, head falling back against the wall.

“We have nothing else to do today, I’ll take you home and then you can sleep, yeah?”

“Yeah”

—————————————————

The both of you got as far as the car before you stopped the redhead, seeing her wince as she sunk into the driving seat. "You should probably be checked out by medical"

"You're the one who's bleeding" she retorted.

"I know what physical injuries I have, you got blown up so..."

"I don't need to go"

"you don't WANT to go"

"you know if we go back inside we'll get roped into something else"

"what, like the debriefing we skipped out on?"

"relax, you know it would just be Rumlow telling us we did everything wrong, and I was on a different mission anyway" she defended nonchalantly, meanwhile you did your best to look unamused until she backtracked. "Oh look, okay, we'll go to medical, but I'm not staying if he tries to lecture me"

"Deal"

—

There was a routine set of questions that had to be asked in every debriefing, and the specifics were at the will of what the agent wanted to disclose. You knew it well, having been a mission leader before, which meant you could pull the information from Natasha; prodding gently into what her mission was while she lay in the medbay waiting for the doctor.

A blank glare after your second question made it obvious Natasha knew what you were trying. But from you, all it took was pleading eyes for Natasha to roll her own, and continue answering your questions as if she hadn't noticed. She even threw in more detail than she had previously been giving.

It kept her focus on you when the doctor checked her over, patching up the few scrapes and scratches that she'd developed. Her eyes never left yours.

"You're all good to go." The doctor announced. Natasha sighed. You held your hand out to help her up and she graciously took it.

"I'm going to have to stay," you told her with a sigh, "but you go home, relax"

"Why-" She followed your eye line to the door, seeing Rumlow loitering on the other side. "I'll stay with you."

"Natasha, you got hit with an explosive-"

"happens all the time"

"unfortunate I know that" you grimaced. "But you were hit by an explosive and you should rest, right?" You targeted the end towards the doctor, who nodded, forcing a scowl from Natasha. "Plus you said you'd leave if he tried to lecture you, that's what's going to happen, so just go home, I'll probably have to write up the mission report but I'll join you back home when I'm done"

"Fine. Stay safe, don't take his lecturing if he tries it"

"Drive safe, I'll see you soon"

As soon as you turned away from Natasha, you let annoyance overtake your features, scowling at Rumlow for interrupting the nice day you had planned to spend with your girlfriend.

He stepped back as the door swung open, cockily smirking at your obvious irritation, and with a look in his eyes that said he aimed to make it worse.

"Rumlow." You greeted

"you missed the debriefing"

"I'm aware"

"It was important"

"I've done them before. They're not. Besides, Steve and Natasha skipped too"

"You shouldn't forget their authority just because you're on a first-name basis with them. They're senior, so they don't report to me. You do."

"So you're going to ask me to write the report?"

He faltered, standing up straighter as he looked around the room, "uh, yeah. Yeah, you're writing the mission report. Include everyone's debriefing notes, even Romanoff's." His smug smile returned, excited at the prospect of seeing you chase down the Black Widow for a debriefing. You wouldn't give that to him.

"Already got hers. Give me the rest and I'll get started. Please."

"They're in office 5" he grumbled, calling a "have fun!" over his shoulder as he walked away

It took you a while, having to read the debriefing notes of every single person on the mission, before adding your own and writing up the information you'd gotten from Natasha. Then you actually had to type up the report: what happened, what the goal was, the successes, the failures, and a review of it all.

It was long. Everyone always did their best to get out of writing the report for a reason.

You sent it off to the printer, then grabbed it and made your way down the halls of SHIELD. Your mind was running faster than your legs, hoping to get back home to Natasha as soon as possible, so much that you completely missed the whispers of your colleagues until you made it to Records, handing the document in.

“Have you heard the news?”

SHIELD was notorious for gossip, and since it was an intelligence organisation sometimes it paid off to listen in, but you could never keep up. “What news?”

“Director Fury is in hospital, some people say he might not make it”

“Shit.” Your phone was in your hand immediately, searching for Natasha’s contact. You hit the button, waiting only one ring before she picked up.

“I’m on my way to the hospital” she answered before you could speak.

“For Fury?”

“He’s been shot”

“Which hospital? I’ll be there.”

Natasha hurriedly gave you the address. You waved a thanks to the Records department receptionist while still on the phone, running out of the building as fast as you could. Thankfully you and Natasha had driven to the mission separately that morning, so there was still a car for you to drive to the hospital in. The drive across town had never felt so long, everything getting in your way to make your mood worse. Roads were blocked and ambulance sirens blared to overtake you every ten seconds. You realised something big must have happened, more than just Fury being shot.

The area beside the hospital was shut off, only allowing emergency vehicles through, so you were forced to park and run the last section. You made it in just as Steve came out, escorted by Rumlow and some of his men.

“Y/N”

“Steve. Fury, where-”

“He didn’t make it,” the super-soldier told you remorsefully. His voice wavered in a way you hadn’t heard before. His eyes met yours only once, before dropping to the ground. His fingers fidgeted at his side. You could put it together.

“It’s not on you Steve”

“He was waiting at my apartment. He got shot there. And even I couldn’t catch the man who did it.”

“It’s not on you Steve” you repeated.

“Rogers,” the voice which had been plaguing you all day snapped, “you’re needed at SHIELD now”

“Go in,” Steve said softly, “Nat will need you”. With that, he turned, following Rumlow into the van.

You didn’t wait to see him go, rushing inside and asking around for your assassin, eventually finding her alone in an office room, typing into a computer. You were sure she’d noticed you, but you made your steps heavier just in case, taking care not to startle her when you gave a soft “Nat?”

“He died” is all she replied with.

“I know. Steve told me outside. Tash, I’m so sor-”

“Steve is lying”

“About- But you said-” nothing was making sense in your mind. Fury was dead, of that, you were fairly sure, given the two accounts. But then what would Steve lie about?

“About the circumstances of Fury’s death. He hid this before Rumlow took him away, and I sent this to Fury before we even left the Lemurian Star.” She pointed at the memory stick inputted into the computer, one you recognised from that morning.

“The data you backed up”

“Fury sent us to retrieve this, so why give it away? And it’s encrypted, I can’t even access it. Y/N, can you-”

“Natasha,” you stopped, “it’s late. Staying up will do neither of us good and Steve was taken to SHIELD, have you considered asking him more about it?”

“He didn’t tell me he had it until I saw him hide it”

“Then he’ll want it back later, but for now it looked like Rumlow wasn’t giving him a choice. Let’s just go home, please.”

She sighed, nodding slightly. You opened your arms for her and she stumbled into them, which you then used to guide her out of the hospital. Natasha trembled the entire time, yet she didn’t allow any tears to spill. Not while you were still in public.

They fell on the car journey home. It was painfully silent, no attempt at comfort sounding right, other than simply being there. The silence remained as you readied yourselves for bed, even as you climbed in. You cried too. Fury had been intimidating, he’d scared you many a time. But he’d cared for Natasha and he’d cared for you, helping your relationship grow in secret, letting you protect each other. You held Natasha in bed, slowly noticing her sobs diminish, until eventually she had it in herself to talk.

“Do you remember my mission? In Odessa?” she asked

“Of course I do” you muttered, “2009, just before we started dating. You got shot protecting that engineer”

“And you took care of my injuries while I was forced into bed rest”

“Forced” you laughed, miming quotation marks, “you were shot and almost bled out”

“I lived,” she returned the smile, “and got a girlfriend out of it”. Her grin increased when you blushed, but then her attention was lost. Her eyes glassed over and the smile faded. “The person who shot me is the same person who shot Fury,” she said. Looking at you with urgency.

“The Winter Soldier”

Next Chapter

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Tagging: @slytherinchevy @catswag22 @sapphosclosefriend @romanoffsgal

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #Natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff imagine #captain america: the winter soldier #captain america: tws #marvel #mcu #ikan in the background

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husbandohunter · 3 years ago

Note

A Furry Predicament, but reversed (Reader turns into a cat)? Pretty please with a sweet lil cherry on top? (I recently stumbled across your blog and may I just say that I absolutely adore your works??) Thank youu and take care~~

A Furrier Predicatment [Genshin x Cat!Reader]

♤♡◇♧☆

Synopsis: It's your turn to be a cat after this incident.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Childe, Venti

(A/n): Ah you did OwO that's very sweet of you. It's alot of fun to write, especially when your imagination is stunted and you just gotta spit out something silly.

=======================

[Diluc]

Any beloved pet owned by Master Diluc would be under the most high quality and meticulous treatement. Mostly for cats since they tend to be calm while elegant...to some extent. If they were dogs then he'll ensure that they also serve as a partner for sniffing out trouble such as a certain bard who'd might've sneaked into the wine cellars. But you weren't either, so to say, you were both a beloved AND a cat.

As he picks you up gently into his arms, Diluc would be a little baffled on what to do next. He has no idea how to care for delicate creatures as he never had one (other than a pet tortoise but that's different) in which he needed to look for help. But who? The staff? Certainly not, no one can find out that his partner turned into a pet (imagine all the scandals he'll be in). Jean? Anything but the knights of Favonius. And most certainly not his brother.

So Diluc ends up figuring everything out by himself (old habits die hard). All the sweets and regular meals you craved were no long in your menu, you were forced to have a proper cat diet because he believed it was healthier. Half of the time he has no idea what he's doing, since you were a cat and all you could do was "meow" (which Diluc forgets. He tries to have a mundane conversation until you stare at him with feline eyes. That was when he remembered).

"What would you like for tonight's dinner, my love?"

"Meow." He has alot to learn.

Though Master Diluc often gets very tired and he attempts to take a quick nap before killing himself over the next set of duties. That is, until you could help it. Being a cat has it's furry and comfy advantages. So you leapt up to the bed as quietly as possible and onto the side of your lover, circling a few times to see if he was really asleep. When he was you snuggled close to keep him warm, hoping it would lull him into a rest even deeper. He slept like a baby.

~xx~

[Kaeya]

If the Cavalry Capatain were to own a pet, they would either be charmed by him or snaring their teeth because of his unreadable and suspicious aura. Animal instincts are quite powerful. But your case wasn't the latter, thankfully and he could feel himself growing fond of this new found relationship. Almost. What should he do with you now that you're a cat, Kaeya wonders.

Belly rubs and a lot of them. He absolutely adores the way your cute little nose scrunches up while he runs his fingers on the center of your tummy (though he knows when to stop, Kaeya is rather gentle with you nowadays). You found that he absolutely adores the shape of your nose, would pick you up and boop yours with his own somehow knows how to be his flirty self despite your unusual form.

There was this one incident where you saw something shiny flashing over the wall. Slowly you followed it as the bright dot moved futher and further away, evetually gaining speed. Little did you know it was Kaeya who was watching you swipe your little paws up and down against the wall while he was just cleaning his sword. How could he help it? You were often so headstrong and independent, now you were just an adorable little kitten that loves to play with yarn and shiny things. It backfired him though, now there were a bunch of scratchmarks marring the surfaces (which he had to pay for repairs).

Takes you out to Windrise so that you could get some fresh air (also for you to find somewhere else to shed your fur other than his humble abode). Kaeya sits back under a tree while you either chase a butterfly or start slapping against the dandelions (only sneeze when they fly into your face). He wasn't sure if you were aware of what you were doing right now, if you were then he'll have lots of things to talk about once you turn back into human. If not, then at least he had the opportunity to witness such a soft side coming from you.

~xx~

[Xiao]

If any animal were to go close towards the adeptus, they would run away. Xiao isn't very good at interacting with others, pets included, usually they would run into the alleyway or hide around the legs of their owners while he glaringly, blankly stares at them (Even though he wouldn't admit it, Xiao thinks to himself, how soft is cat fur?) Now he gets to touch your cat form and turns out that fur is very ticklish yet pleasant against his skin.

Would be the most awkward conversationalist, the poor yaksha was already terrible with his words (often coming out harsh so he prefers to either keep away or say nothing at all) and even with you sometimes, now it was almost impossible to communicate. Xiao is not very good at reading a cat's body language. When you want him to hold you again, you'd walk in circles. He assumes you were hungry and leaps out the window to go fetch some fish...for the nth time there was a pile of raw salmon stacking upon the floor. Xiao thinks that maybe salmon species weren't to your liking, hence he does out to find another one.

As he plays his flute, you'd magically doze off on his lap. (There was one thing that you both can communicate with at last). Slowly but surely, he comes to learn the different gestures you make for certain situations. You often rub yourself upon his leg which he had heard to be a cat's way of claiming their territory. That was when Xiao picks you up, FINALLY. Though the real reason why it took him this long was because he was hesitant to hold you. He never really held a pet so naturally he has no idea how to hold a cat. Ends up cradling you in his arms because it seemed to be a safer option <3

"I never thought I'd be able to hold you like this," Xiao softly says to your lazy form, observing the way your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, "But I...forget it. We can stay like this for the time being, if you'd like. If not, that's fine too."

You stay.

~xx~

[Albedo]

The only pets Albedo had were for his alchemic experiments (plus they were put in cages too). Fact be told, he would make a terrible pet owner with the lifestyle he has now. The alchemist would be so absorbent into his work that he'll most likely forget that he has someone to feed and by the time he realized it, they would have already starved to death. After hearing glass bottles crashing to the floor, Albedo bursts into the rooms as the smoke fills it completely, finding a cat lost between it. The cat was you. He knows because he made the potions.

Sometimes he'd a little too scientific for his own good. Albedo assumed that when you turned into a cat, you've gone into cat mode and ends up treating you as such. "No, don't go near any bodies of water. You wouldn't like it." He almost forgets that you were once human which is very much like him if you had to be honest. Though when he does find out that you still carried human traits, Albedo must find ways to adapt things to your liking.

He makes your food himself. He's not a cook but he sure is good at everything he does, even if it's something he never did before. This goes for other areas too such as the size of your bed, if you need a little couch to stay on or maybe some tools to play around. (The only time when he is a good pet owner). In his sketchbook he'd have a bunch of blueprints and contraptions of what to make next. There's something enjoyable when spoiling you, those little reactions when you're pleased, like the twitch of your whiskers or the lift of your tail. Albedo finds is very cute.

On top of all that, he could also make you a potion to turn you back into normal. It seemed that it was the last thing he thought of on the list. Albedo was too occupied with treating you like a cat that it all flew over his head until now. Time flies when you're having fun.

~xx~

[Zhongli]

Unlike Albedo, anyone who has Zhongli as a pet owner would be considered to be a very lucky animal. He radiates a calm and serene aura that gives the perfect environment to have infinite nap times. People look at this man and wonder why his pet never gives him any trouble, especially when cats were considered to be both fiesty and needy. But they just didn't know that the cat was you (not like it would make a difference, any animal would know that Zhongli was no ordinary man).

How on earth does he know what you're saying? Maybe it's because he was once an archon. You could meow and he knows exactly what you would like to snack on. You could tilt your head, he takes it that you were curious on what he was currently doing (which was exactly what you were wondering), you can say nothing at all yet as if he could read your mind, Zhongli comes over to pet you with his gloved hands.

"How can I tell? Indeed it is because you're my lover, of course. Throughout this time we spent together, I've come to learn the way you speak through your eyes. They seem to hold true no matter what form you take. It's rather comforting."

Though there were many moments where you sneak up behind Zhongli. His hair, his ponytail- so long. Must play with. As you jump up and down with his thin strand swings side to side, it'll take a few seconds for him to decipher what your were doing. The minute he turns around he catches you with his hands midair and laughs heartfully. Cats were very endearing creatures.

~xx~

[Childe]

Back home in Snezhnaya, Childe would probably have owned a dog or two. They were mostly meant for hunting purposes, big and large furry creatures with thick skin suitable to endure the harsh cold. He has dogs because cats hate him for some strange reason. They either hiss or snootly turn their backs on him, one time he picked one up as a kid but his face bleeding after the cat scratched him with their paws. But of course you wouldn't do that to him. You would never~ he was your cutie pie anyways.

He was an obnoxious hugger, not gentle at all. Childe forgets his strength as a human man and when he squeezes you tightly against his chest, you'd spike out on all ends because by the archons, you're suffocating. But it was your fault for feeling so comfy and warm! Similar to Kaeya, they're both obnoxious but Childe deemed himself to be even worse. He'd rub his face against yours, commenting on how sensitive it sways. Tonia once told him that she wanted a pet cat instead, maybe he should also bring you back to his homeland now.

Yes he would love to play with you. Bring in the cat toys...or not. This was the eleventh Fatui Harbinger, what were you thinking? Normal cat activities? Not here. He's gonna teach you how to hunt like how he taught his dogs to hunt in Snezhnaya. You gave him the most deadpanned and dissapointed look with your large feline glare. Not only was he disliked by cats but he certainly was not good with them.

Though he can take it down a notch sometimes and just indulge in relaxing activities. When there was nothing else for him to do or when he was just tired after a productive day, he'd sit by the kitchen and you on top of the table. While you yawned and leaned down for a nap, Childe plays with the small of your paws to the soft edge of your nails. If he taps your nose, your whiskers twitch. Your ears are nice, maybe he should get you a headband version once you turned back to human.

You immediately wake up when he touches your tail.

~xx~

[Venti]

Achoo!

You sometimes wonder how is it that the anemo archon was able to live through 2000 years without getting beaten up by a cat. If andrius was a large cougar than a wolf, maybe he wouldn't be an archon now. Which is why you are to stay miles far far away from him unless you want the whole of Mondstadt to be blown away by the wind.

Wears a mask (as if this were the covid19 pandemic), although it doesn't take away all his problems, at least it'll minimize it. Venti always has a box of tissues ready but you can tell by the puffiness of his eyes that he's been sneezing alot. He really tries his hardest to pitch in every once in a while when Albedo was working on a cure for you to go back to normal. Though acts as if he was quarantined by staying all the way at the other side of the room.

"Ahahaha don't mind me. It's your local bard of Mondstadt dropping by to see how things are going. I wanna make sure how long it will take for you to make the potion? Just curious!"

No hugs, cuddles or anything involving close proximity. This makes Venti very pouty and impatient. Albedo finds it very hard to concentrate with all the sniffling and sneezing that he had no choice but to kick him out. It didn't help that the location was Dragonspine, now he was sneezing even more.

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puniyo · 2 years ago

Text

A reverse KinnPorsche (PorscheKinn ?) AU

I thought about this yesterday during shower (the best place for crazy ideas) and then @lovetoreadrose posted a request about it. This is based on the characteristics of the characters from the series and not the books.

Also, prepare for some necessary OOC.

Porsche is the rising head of the Kittisawasd family in the mafia world. He is known as the bodhisattva of the underworld (for being merciful) but his enemies know that if they ever see the rumored tattoo of the fiery phoenix on his back, even hell won’t save them.

Kinn happens to see it right in the first night they meet. (and later a major pleasure point during sex)

Chay is a cinnamon roll, guitar lover but not good at playing it. Porsche is looking for a trustworthy tutor for him, one that will not have his throat open during a change of strings but hasn’t found one yet (later Kinn -> Kim).

The 3 Theerapanyakul brothers live in a small on the outskirts of Bangkok, with the house (not a large one but comfortably spacious) that was left over by their parents.

Tankhun suffers from PTSD from his parents’ death in a car crash (he and Kinn were both in the car as well and Tankhun is the one who instinctively protected Kinn from any incoming shards and anything colliding in his direction) and has long developed social anxiety due to it. He has an online bakery though (the kitchen being his sacred place in the house), which Kinn fully supports. He is very extravagant and that is reflected in his cakes and pastries. He is also an underground, popular love guru (unknown to Kinn, and later even gives advice to Porsche).

Kim plays guitar and writes music for local productions. It’s not a money job but Kinn approves of it because he just wants him to be happy. There is a large age gap between Kinn and Kim, and Kinn really loves his brothers. He just doesn’t show it often.

Kinn is a music performer/bartender at night while managing a small youth hostel (not his obviously), later revealed to be a place where shady business happens. Kinn is used to it.

Kinn and Kim sometimes play together at night. Both brothers are normally being flirted by other people. Kinn also earns extra tips here. It is one of these nights that Porsche catches eye on Kinn. He asks Kinn to tutor Chay but the latter refuses and they start on the wrong foot because Porsche can be patronizing, saying he doesn’t earn enough at the bar and Kinn also sarcastically telling someone with too much good taste as Porsche would never understand the music of peasants.

At the back of the bar (same night), Porsche is attacked by a group of thugs and he and Kinn, although clumsily and still in their argument, fight together and somehow in unison, and get rid of those thugs.

During the fight, Kinn loses his watch (instead of being taken by Porsche), and because it was a gift from Tankhun, Tankhun makes a fuss about him losing it.

Porsche contacts Kinn again because of the watch and says he will only return it if Kinn meets him in the compound. There, Kinn sees Chay “playing” the guitar (more like murdering the guitar), and out of frustration, just teaches him how to hold it properly. Somehow, there are more attackers (because the security in the house is not good) and Kinn ends up protecting the younger mafia lord, breaking his arm in the process. Chay offers him compensation but Porsche wants to hire him.

Porsche doesn’t trust anyone since all people either just want to use him or usurp him.

Pete should be Porsche’s main bodyguard but is more of a best friend.

Arm and Pol became good friends with Kinn, because Arm is as sarcastic and Pol is just oblivious to both men’s jokes about him.

TBC… (this is what my brain came up with during lunch time… and it is time to get back to work)

#kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche #kinn theerapanyakul #porsche pachara #reverse AU #tankhun #ideas for fics

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plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 4 years ago

Text

Nemesis: Retribution (3)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: EVENTUAL SMUT. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOURS. (18+ ONLY), polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, lots of angst, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, strong language, mentions of trauma, character death, fluff if you squint

A/N: We’re playing fast and loose with canon here people. Also thank you for the interactions. I love reading what you think and it helps me write the next chapters better. Also, I enjoy having someone to freak out with. Highlight of my life I swear to god. Enjoy!

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:3 Hard Candy

Natasha stormed off the jet and into the conference room where she knew the rest of the team were waiting for them, fury radiating from her small frame. Catching sight of her target only made her grow angrier. She immediately ran up to Steve and growled up in his face causing him to immediately take a step back. Sam and Bucky were immediately alarmed, standing up to intervene and the latter's black vibranium arm whirring in preparation but Steve held up a hand to stop them.

"What the hell, Rogers? You send me on a mission with zero intel and this is what I find? Did you know?"

Steve's eyes narrowed down at her, the thick beard and longer hair adding even more to his already commanding presence. He knew exactly what Natasha was talking about and he did expect her to react this way.

"I wasn't sure, Nat. And I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up if I was wrong."

"And if you were right?" she scoffed.

Steve swallowed hard before he answered, the blue in his eyes calming considerably. "I thought the three of you deserved to be the first to know."

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky asked, arms crossed on his chest and brows deeply furrowed. They didn't even know about any mission.

Natasha chuckled humorlessly and backed off from Steve. She ran a hand through her hair, the red bleeding into the old blonde color, and gestured toward the door at the approaching people.

"Well you weren't wrong, Steve."

Shock.

That was the overall theme of the day it seemed. None of them could hardly believe that you were actually standing at the doorway. It's been ten long years and you were like the ghost haunting their dreams during that time, a pure and kind soul taken far too soon. Hell, they told stories about your selfless sacrifice to the new recruits. You had unknowingly become a legend.

A legend turned ghost story.

Now you looked more like a nightmare; dried blood caked your clothes and skin, a cold smirk lifting the corner of your lips, and a dangerous unhinged glint in your eyes.

"Well, I'll be damned," Sam breathed. "Y/N?"

"Hey, Sam," you said, the almost flirtatious lilt in your voice sending a shiver down their spines. "I go by Nemesis now."

"Nemesis?" Bucky snapped out of his daze, brows raised high and his jaw clenched, features seen clearer now with his shorter hair. "The notorious mercenary Nemesis?"

"I prefer private contractor."

While they had been honoring your memory, you had been building a ruthless reputation of your own that was widely considered on par in violence with The Punisher but with the added disturbing fact that you could be hired. Of course, no one but a select few knew who you actually were.

Until today.

Nemesis. The Greek goddess of divine retribution and revenge. A name that suited the dark avenging persona you had adapted and the only purpose you now lived for. In a twisted kind of way, you were doing the same work they were only with far less finesse and none of the righteous for the good of mankind purpose they usually had.

You shrugged, sitting yourself casually down on the nearest chair on the other end of the long table from where they stood. You have had a long night, your feet were tired and they were still looking at you with absolute confusion and disbelief. This looked like it would take a while.

You rolled your eyes as you unbuckled your stained bulletproof vest, throwing it haphazardly on the table. You hazarded a glance at each one of them as you made yourself comfortable, noting the changes in them too. The years had given way to a solemn maturity to each one, it seems things had changed for them too.

"Now that I'm here, you have 12 minutes."

"12 minutes? Until what?" Steve stammered.

He couldn't keep his eyes off you, couldn't for the life of him reconcile the person he was seeing in front of him with the person he knew. From your expressions to your movements and even to the tone of your voice, you were just so different and yet it just seemed to make you a more magnetic presence. Fresh guilt washed over him, knowing that he had failed you as your Captain. They should have kept looking for you.

"You'll see. 11 minutes now. Either ask your questions or tell me what you want."

"We all thought you were dead," Steve muttered, taken back by your hostility.

"Well that obviously didn't stick. How did you find me, Cap?"

It was Steve who found you. At first he couldn't believe it was really you, but the split second glimpse he got of your eyes from the body cam on one of the field agents weeks ago drove him to obsessively dig further. It was a shot in the dark when he sent Natasha and the twins on the mission tonight.

"By chance," he admitted. "We've been chasing a group of people suspected to be manufacturing and selling the super soldier serum. Our agents have had a few close encounters with you. I think we're going after the same people."

"So you're asking for intel?" you snorted, absentmindedly picking at the bloodstains on your sleeves.

"No," he said cautiously, wary at how relaxed yet tightly coiled you looked. "I'm offering you your spot back with the team."

You almost choked on the laugh that just escaped your lips. You couldn't help the short bark of laughter at the ridiculous proposition. Looking at their faces though it seemed that the offer was serious, although the reluctant look in their eyes at your transformation showed their inner conflict. You straightened your features and shook your head, the amused smile still on your lips.

"Look, I'm not exactly on brand for you guys anymore." You leaned forward with your arms on the table and landed your eyes squarely on Bucky's, the venom unmistakable. "Besides, I seem to recall I was deemed not cut out for this team."

Bucky felt like his soul left him at your words. There was a Molotov cocktail of emotions raging inside him; surprise, shame, relief, anger, guilt, and longing. It was killing him knowing that he had a hand in how drastically you had changed. He was deathly afraid of finding out your full story. He wanted to talk to you, wanted to beg for your forgiveness and make things right. How many chances would anyone get to redeem oneself with a ghost? He couldn't find the words though, his throat going dry and his tongue heavy in his mouth.

"Y/N, you know that's not the truth," Steve tried to insist.

"I'm not Y/N anymore and I already have a team." You waved a hand dismissively. "Also your 12 minutes are up."

All at once the power cut out in the Compound, drenching the room into darkness punctuated by the flashing emergency lights. You felt yourself get lifted off your seat and the next moment you were standing behind a formation of Avengers in the arms of the resident speedster, your arms on his chest to steady yourself from the daze of the sudden movement. His muscles were tense beneath your hands but his expression was gentle as he looked down at you.

He had wanted to rush over to you the moment you revealed your face. He wanted to hold you, jump for joy, speed around the entire city with you in his embrace. How you were alive didn't matter to him.

Only that you were.

It was only at Wanda's warning for him to stay back that he did. She showed him that you weren't the same person anymore and that they weren't sure whether you would still be friend or foe. To Pietro though, you weren't different.

You were just angry.

To him you were still his little star despite the others thinking you were closer to a supernova now. His little star was just hurting and he decided that he would do everything in his power to help you heal. He held your head tighter to his chest, intending to protect you from the anticipated danger and ready to get you to safety at a moment's notice.

"What the damn hell is going on?" Sam yelled, readying his guns.

A figure silently jumped through the window and rolled on the floor to stop right in front of the group, jolting the Avengers to defend. He stood to full height and took a fighting stance; clad in head to toe red, billy clubs at the ready, and horns glinting in the sparse light atop his head.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

"Let Nemesis go," he growled.

Natasha stepped forward, snapping her own batons in place. The crackling of the electricity from it sent lights to dance on the menacing expression on her face. The rest of the team watched closely the other entry points, expecting more to come in and if the first was any indication then they were in for a real fight.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway, loud and not at all trying to be concealed. Walking straight through the front door, were two towering men in heavy military gear each holding an assault rifle aimed at the group. The sneer on one lent a dangerous taunting aura to his surprisingly handsome features as if to say just fucking try me. While the other had a burning steely focus that instinctively made anyone back off, the emblem on his black vest told them exactly who he was.

The Punisher.

The Avengers snapped to attention, each one drawing their weapons and aiming back. The air was crackling with animosity and fingers that itched to pull their respective triggers. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the first to break the standoff in the enclosed space. Willing for someone to break it.

You laughed.

The disorientation at your reaction was palpable across the room. You patted Pietro's chest, grinning up at him in reassurance that everything was fine. He released you from his hold reluctantly and let you step out of the protective cluster they had inadvertently formed around you. The three newcomers visibly relaxed the slightest bit at the sight of you.

"Weapons down," you said calmly, eyeing each one in the room. No one budged. "All of you. Now."

Steve being the first one to lower his shield was the catalyst in diffusing what could have been the fight of the century. As outnumbered as the newcomers were, they lacked nothing in skill and precise brutality. Frank followed in lowering his weapon and soon everyone did the same. There was still tension but at least it was now reduced to intense glaring.

You tutted and shook your head as you strutted your way to your three rescuers. "What I needed was a ride home, Frankie. Not a goddamn full extraction op."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, not sounding at all apologetic and knowing you weren't really angry if the tired amusement on your face was anything to go by.

He smiled at you, that small open quirk at the corner of his mouth that was always accompanied by a roll of his tongue. He reached for you when you got close enough, drawing you close with a burly arm around the back of your shoulders. He kissed you on the forehead, a lingering gesture that clearly showed an intimacy between the two of you. The soft look on his face was reserved only for you and when he raised his face to the Avengers it was back to the cold threatening glare.

"Can you blame us though?" His voice came out gravelly, a favorite sound of yours. "The last time you were with these guys you were captured and tortured."

Tortured.

The word hung heavy in the air and though your back was turned, you could imagine the look on the faces of your former team. They didn't know about that yet. How could they when they had believed all this time that you died in the explosion?

"You forgot to mention blown up," Matt added, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his lips.

He removed his helmet, floppy brown hair instantly softening his persona. He peppered kisses on your palm and the inside of your wrist as he breathed in your scent to calm his own anxiety. He almost lost it when Billy had called saying that you had been taken. He was usually the last one to jump to immediate violence in your group, but the thought of you gone filled him with irrational fear. The possibility that history could repeat itself was unacceptable to him.

"I should have come with you."

"I could handle it and Billy was with me."

"Lot of good that did," he scoffed, switching to lightly biting your wrist. This wasn't unusual. Being blind, he relied on a more intense physical reassurance that everything was still as it should be.

"They weren't gonna hurt me, Matty," you argued, but it was more to help settle his nerves.

"All right, leave the foreplay for later," the last of the trio said, pulling you by your other hand closer to him.

He held you tightly by the waist and pressed you close, molding your body to his in a practiced motion. The smile on his face was scandalous and the mischief in his eyes was one that spelled trouble. The cheeky bastard winked at you before dipping his head to lay open mouthed kisses on your neck up to your ear right along your old scars. Shivers went down your spine and you couldn't help the low hum as your body reacted instinctively to him, stepping closer still until you could feel the heat of his body through his gear.

You knew exactly what he was doing. He was always the quickest to show affection in front of company, but this was a particularly golden opportunity for him to stake his claim in front of people he believed did not value you enough. Billy wouldn't be Billy if he didn't take it.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Across the room, the Avengers watched on with blatant curiosity at the apparent intimately familiar exchanges. It wasn't as much the fact that three men were bathing you with affection, but more that this cemented how far removed you were from their memory of you. They knew you as a starry-eyed recruit who stuttered at light teasing and preening at the slightest validation.

"Y/N," Steve called for you, forcing you to step away from Billy for the moment. You turned around to face them but Billy didn't let you go far, slinging his arm over your chest and this time contorting his body to yours.

"I told you, Steve. I'm not Y/N anymore," you said, a fleeting sadness flashed in your eyes before it was replaced with a firm pride. "And this is my team."

"We're taking our girl home," Frank declared, the threat underneath didn't need to be verbalized. If they took you again, it wouldn't end well for anyone.

"Wait!" Steve said urgently, halting your exit. "We'll hire you."

It was a last ditch effort. He was grasping at straws to keep you from disappearing from their lives again. He knew that if you walked out that door now there was no chance of ever getting you back. He just could not let that happen. This would only be temporary at best, but at least it would buy him time to convince you of a more permanent arrangement.

"Not interested."

"Nem." Matt as usual cautioned you from being too hasty. "Is this about the syndicates?"

You sighed. Matt was like a dog with a bone now. There was no choice but to let him chew on it. This was particularly important to him because the syndicates had been running amok in Hell's Kitchen and he was starting to find it difficult to keep his backyard clean.

"Yeah, apparently the stuff we found in the shipment yard was for making super soldier serums. The Avengers have been following the trail too."

"Why not just join forces then? We can get this done and over with a lot faster with their help," he reasoned.

"We're doing fine on our own, Matty."

"Matt has a point, sweetheart," Frank cut in. "We've been chasing this for years. I know a part of you is just itching to end all of this."

"It might help us find him faster. Do you really want to spend another ten years pulling at threads?" Matt added.

You closed your eyes, hands clenching at your sides to control your anger. It grated at you when they ganged up on you like this, but your anger was more because they were right and you knew it. You hated it, but they were right.

It was Billy who intervened, pulling you again to hug you from behind. His hold was firmer than before, aimed more to calm your shaking body. His voice came out calm, but resolute. His first priority was always making sure you were okay and you obviously weren't okay with this.

"You heard the lady. It's a no."

Frank and Matt sighed and shook their heads, but backed off. They weren't about to push you about this no matter how much they knew this would help you. They'll try again to convince you later, but they weren't optimistic. It was fortunate for them that there was more than just one stubborn person in the room.

"Please," Steve interrupted. You had almost forgotten that there were other people in the room. Almost. "We need your help. They have someone who keeps getting in our way and every time we get close he either fights us long enough for the trail to grow cold or leads us on wild goose chases. We can't let that serum be available to whoever can pay for it."

He didn't know what it was that he said that made all of your heads snap in his direction. Your eyes in particular were suddenly wild with barely restrained fury. He would take it. At least he had your attention.

"We can't let that happen, Nemesis," he finished, making sure to use your preferred name. Anything to possibly get himself into your good graces.

"Do you have a name?" you ground out.

"What?"

"A name, Steve. Do you know who this guy is?"

"By the way he fights he seems to be a merc too. Looks like military background though from where I'm not sure," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words in the hopes of you changing your mind. "He goes by Salvacion."

"We're in."

Earth's Mightiest was stunned at the sudden reversal of your decision. As firm as you had rejected the offer, you were jumping at it now with the addition of your own team.

"Let's get one thing straight though, Cap," you began, the rage still burning in your eyes like wildfire. "My team and I will work with you. It's all of us or none of us. We'll help you lock up the syndicates and destroy the serum. We'll play nice, but Salvacion is mine."

Steve took a deep breath, relieved that you had agreed but also deeply concerned at your visceral reaction to a name. He had to ask.

"Why?"

"Because that's the motherfucker who killed my sister."

--------------------------------------

A/N: I feel like you guys have more questions now. Come freak out with me through the comments and reblogs! I write faster when people freak out with me. It’s the truth. Now that you’ve seen our girl with ALL our strapping men, what do you think? Who are you most curious about now?

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alovelyburn · 2 years ago

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Rambles about the Golden Age Part 9

I'm a little troubled by how long this is taking me to go through. Ah well.

Rambles about the Golden Age Part 9

1. So, Griffith's handling of Foss is one of those things that gets brought up a lot in "why Griffith is just the worst, just the worst" discussions which always struck me as weird because he's literally the orchestrator of multiple attempts on Griffith's life, right? Like what's he supposed to do, just leave him alone to keep drumming up hate and inspiring murder attempts? Realize that at this point he hasn't even done anything wrong.

When it comes to people's reaction to Griffith, there are things I understand very much (the Eclipse and the rape, obviously - especially the latter), but I think some of the things people perceive as proof that he was always evil are just things that seem evil to them because they already think he's evil.

Anyway!

2. I really like the details in Berserk - going back to Guts' first night with the Hawks, his slow and reluctant capitulation to the camaraderie, and then here the vague discomfort of a bunch of common-born mercenaries mingling in high society. It must be awkward but...

Guts is mostly present for Griffith - obviously. And while there are plenty of inworld reasons for him to attend this thing despite hating such events (to avoid making Griffith look bad, to support him, to spend his final time with the Hawks... with them, and seeing what they've done) and probably most notably to wait on his "death" via poison so he knows when to head out), what I really want to talk about is the out of world reason - the doylist way of looking at it, you could say.

And that's to drive home how out of touch Guts feels with Griffith, and to further the Casca romance... and also to get us to that last image, when they're smiling at each other across the room.

These panels! Speak to the first one - everyone watches Griffith from a distance, but Guts wasn't always like that. He used to be the guy who assaulted a few guards trying to waltz into Griffith's recovery room because he had no fucks to give about status and even if he never forgot the status difference between the two of them, he still knew he had every right to be there next to Griffith. Now, like Casca, he has taken to hanging back and watching him from below or, in this case, behind.

3. It's kind of surprising how heavy with foreshadowing this page is - the observation regarding the danger to Griffith within the castle, but also?

"The more radian the light, the darker the shadows fall." WELL...

I have no idea whether I'll be able to keep up the commentary all the way to Volume 34.... maybe not, knowing me. So I'll just say for now that I think one of the things that people have a hard time with when looking at Griffith is the duality of his nature, right? I don't know whether this is still happening but I remember a lot of theories about how Griffith isn't the Hawk of Light, Guts is the real prophesied savior or whatever, and I mean... that doesn't make sense, you know? He's not a Hawk/Falcon he's a dog/wolf. But that kind of theorizing comes from a desire to see the Guts vs Griffith situation as a light vs. darkness or good vs. evil conflict. But what Miura himself said when asked about Griffith's role post-reincarnation, he said:

"Manga characters tend to be judged as enemies or allies - good or evil - but I'm trying not to create Berserk using such a value system. Griffith is Griffith and he seems appealing, but maybe from his side Guts looks like the villain. And there are probably those who find the world Griffith creates to be more to their convenience."

That wasn't even the first time he said something to that effect, plus similar concepts are in the books themselves.

There's not a lot of purpose to be found in trying to flatten the characters into good/bad, enemy/ally, light/dark. Even Guts' relationship with Griffith post-Eclipse is very complicated and not all about anger and rage - he still yearns for acknowledgment, for Griffith to see him and see worth in him. He still refers to Griffith as a friend in his mindscape. When he first sees Griffith in human form, he has to force himself to be angry again.

And I know I've said that a fair bit but right now I'm on a tangent about this light/dark thing and have gotten off the rails, but okay my point is, part of Griffith's nature is to encompass all the best and worst aspects of humanity simultaneously. He is the Hawk of Light, but he is also the Hawk of Darkness. His radiant light carries deep shadows, and the horror of what he's capable - the darkest parts of the shadow - imply the great things he's capable of - the brightest parts of his light. And this is a lot to ramble about based on Laban and Owen discussing Griffith's impact on court, but it's the same general concept. Because he has done so much and shines so brightly, he attracts both the best and worst of people - love, admiration, hatred, and everything in between, because both his presence and his personality are polarized and polarizing. And I think a lot of people expect him to unmask and reveal that all the good things he tries to do are just an act, but I personally would be surprised if that was the case. Because I think he just does believe in good things and try to do good things. It's just that he's also capable of being ruthless, vindictive, even cruel. Just like he's capable of being rational and calm most of the time, but completely overrun by his emotions at other times. Because no one is just one thing, and Griffith certainly isn't.

4. The Guts and Casca scenes do a good job, I think, of selling their draw to each other but also the uncertainty of it. It's interesting because there really isn't a ton of buildup to their becoming romantic - its just hate hate hate -> cave -> Campire -> post-Doldrey watching Griffith -> Ball -> departure, really. And even then, the romantic stuff only started somewhere around the Doldrey scene, although I would say the groundwork began going down much earlier in Promrose and the leadin to the 100 man battle. Despite that, Miura really had a way of portraying relationships in very few scenes and making them feel substantial and genuine - he did it with Griffith and Guts as well, honestly, since most of their relationship took place during the 3 year timeskip.

Anyway, another thing from the Miura interview - when talking about Farnese's relationship with Guts, Serpico and Rodrigo, he mentioned that he thought women largely had fantasies about three different kinds of men: the faraway one that you can long for, the one who's right by your side, and... rich guys who can spoil you. Now, I'm not gonna get into how accurate that is or isn't (gah), but I will say you can see the way he constructs the heroines' relationships in accordance with that idea. For Farnese, as Miura said himself, Guts is the one she longs for, Serpico is right at her side, and Rodrigo is the rich guy. Casca didn't have a rich guy, but I would say Griffith is the far away one she longs for, and Guts was the one right by her side. This is kind of backed up by the chapters much much later when Schierke and Farnese are going through Casca’s memories and compares Casca’s feelings for Griffith to her own feelings for Guts.

Generally speaking people don't end up with the one they long for, because the one they long for is out of reach - that's why they're longing. But you can also ignore the gender crap here because Guts has the same situation really - Guts explicitly makes most of his decisions post-Promrose in order to win Griffith over, but Casca is right there with him sharing his adventures and fears (and his yearning for that matter) which forms the basis of the relationship that they ultimately develop.

It is interesting though, isn't it? Because at the beginning of the Golden Age, Griffith was more or less right there with him - I don't think its a coincidence that the Casca romance starts to develop just as Guts starts to keep his distance from Griffith and dream of winning him over with dreams. i mean, it's not a coincidence that that is when he became emotionally available for her, and it's also not a coincidence narratively since the story is trying to get us invested in Guts and Casca.

I should also mention that to my mind this is where Guts starts developing feelings for her.

I'm not a big Guts/Casca person, but I try to be fair!

5. And then there's this. Which is just so sad.

The thing is, Guts at this point already knows he's leaving, so he's having this moment of "you're doing so good, look at you up there being the greatest, things are just going to get better from here and I can't wait to see you rise and meet you again when I can look into your face without having to look up."

And Griffith has no idea any of this is happening. He doesn't know Guts feels distanced from him, or that Guts feels like their friendship was just him fooling himself. He doesn't know Guts feels like he has to leave in order to get closer. He doesn't know there's any problem whatsoever between them, to him everything is fine and nothing has changed. So while Guts is there having his moment of pride and admiration and saying his quiet goodbyes, Griffith just has a head full of dreams and thinks they're going to keep rising together.

Visually it's also interesting that Miura chose to have him seemingly look at this gaggle of cute girls who fawn over him, and then reveal that he's actually looking right past them at Guts. Kind of reminds me of that panel from earlier where Guts is staring at Griffith's back as visual metaphors go. I know Guts is there to watch the spectacle to come, but in that specific moment it does seem like they each just wanted to share the moment with the person who is most important to them, even if it had to be from across the ballroom and through a glass door.

Guts really does spend a lot of this chapter saying his silent goodbyes.

6. And then there’s Tombstone of Flames. I... love these chapters. It’s where Griffith gets to show his brilliance and strategic side outside the battlefield, but I think most importantly, it’s where Griffith asserts that court and the battlefield are no different in his mind. They are both struggles for survival, contests in which there are winners and losers and to lose is to die.

That’s the kind of mindset he brings into his conflicts with Julius and then with Foss and finally the Queen.

This image is symbolic of that, but it’s also Griffith reasserting who he really is. Because notice he only pulls his hair back as part of his courtly persona - he doesnt tie it back on the field even if that kind of makes sense to do. The loose hair is a part of his soldier/common boy personal and the tied back hair is connected with his courtly/political persona.

And the thing is, the Queen, Foss, Julius, that whole crew... they never understood him in this way - they didn't really know who he is. Just because he plays pseudo-aristocrat for the sake of advancement, that doesn’t mean that’s his actual personality - he doesn’t even like them. He is a politician, yes, but I think at his core what Griffith is... is a conqueror. Socially, in battle, politically, he is always moving to the next target and working on it until he has it locked down and again, I can’t stress enough....

He brings that same warrior mindset into court, and that’s what has served him so well. It’s also what made him several Ds too high on the chess scale for any of these people to handle, even Foss.

Like so.

Honestly, it’s really such a shame (for them, not me) that Guts and Griffith couldn’t work their shit out. Because ultimately I don’t think there’s anyone who would get either of them better than the other. Guts is a bit more accessible, like Casca connects to him on many levels as well. But even so, before the rupture in their relationship started, they were really just... straight up giving each other exactly what they each needed. Because Guts needs someone who sees him and values him and cares about him... and Griffith cared so much about him that his whole personality short circuited every time Guts got involve din something. And Griffith needs someone who could see his dark side and still find him acceptable, beautiful, valid... and Guts legit couldn’t care less about some assassinations as long as it didn’t involve accidentally killing a child.

7. This is really the only time Griffith purposefully exposes his insecurities or even the slightest edge of his self-image. Casca saw it, but it was an accident. And of course Guts, who thinks that the dream is the most important thing to Griffith, responds by validating his choices based on their significance to his dream, but like... I will say one reason Guts didn’t say it wasn’t cruel is because he literally thinks it is:

...he just doesn’t mind it as much as he could.

But that’s kind of important too? Because Griffith is cruel sometimes, albeit only for necessity at this point... and what he really needed was someone who could accept that part of him without excessive judgment. He phrases his question as “do you think I’m cruel?” but I think what he really is looking for is confirmation that he’s not repulsive. And Guts tries to give it to him, but doesn’t quite understand what’s being asked because... Griffith doesn’t actually ask what he’s asking, if that makes sense. This eventually leads to Griffith’s complete misunderstanding of Guts’ departure... so, Guts really just gives the Godhand the ultimate tool to break down Griffith’s reluctance to accept the sacrifice: the approval of the one person whose opinion could shake his heart. And they sure do use that against him.

Anyway, I really wanted to go through to the time skip but its now 3:40am, and the whole departure, from the talks with Judeau and Corkus to the duel, are kind of a big topic so I’m going to bed, bai.

#not the berserk tag #berserk meta #rambles about berserk

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struggling-with-time · 3 years ago

Text

Crows and Ravens [Wilbur soot x reader]

Paring: Wilbur Soot x Gender Neutral!reader

Summary: Inspired by the song Ravens by Reno Shaw. How the reader deals with the grief and cope with Wilburs death.

Warnings: Angst, grief, death.

Words: 3.1k words

A/N: thank you to @libbynotfound for being my wonderful beta for this <3 also go listen to Reno Shaw, I've been listening to his music on repeat! His Spotify

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You stand on the porch cradling a hot cup of coffee, watching over the snowy Tundra. Enjoying the peace and calm the secluded place brings. While getting used to the cold took a while, it wasn’t long. After all, a warm fireplace is never far off.

You take a sip, as you watch the crows slowly start to gather in the treetop, indicating the return of Phil. Your dead fiancé’s father. Wilbur’s dad.

You moved up here with Technoblade after Wilbur’s death, needing some peace and quiet. While you never truly agreed with Technoblade’s ideologies, yet you longed to get away from the bustling town that only ever seemed to bring hurt to its citizens. So, you left.

Your cottage connected to the other two, now that Phil had moved up here too.

You follow him with your eyes as he breaks free of the surrounding forest. You watch as he puffs out his black wings to shake off the white snow that has fallen on them.

You give Phil a small wave as he notices you watching over the sunset.

“Good morning! You’re out of your bed today. That’s good to see!”

You nod in acknowledgement, never meeting his eyes, as you are back to being fixated on the rising sun.

You listen to the crows as they have now gathered, a constant murder that never seems to leave Phil alone. You don’t question it. You don’t mind the noise they sometimes bring, although you worry for the man who will sometimes speak to them as though they could understand him.

Phil’s door opens and closes, and you suspect he is dropping off the items from his latest adventure into the deep woods.

What surprises you is mere minutes later when it opens again, and he steps out, a cup of tea in his own hands. Clearly indicating to join you on this windless morning.

You take a step aside, and Phil stands beside you.

You can’t help, but feel as though you have to get further away from the man. It’s an itch that is always around when Phil is close to you. Despite being long ago, you still see it for yourself every time you look at the older man.

The sword sticking out of Wilbur’s stomach, as the debris is slowly settling down. Phil holding him.

You didn’t see it happen, but you saw the aftermath. The shell of the man you loved, truly being a mere shell. While he might have walked the tightrope of manic, there was always hope in your heart for the Wilbur you fell in love with coming back. But a dead Wilbur? There was no hope of bringing him back, he was truly gone.

Your gaze never wavering from the sun rising, as it bathes the white Tundra in oranges and reds.

“Phil?”

“Yeah, mate.”

“Do you think he would have liked it here?”

“No, no he wouldn’t. He always craved more, the peace would bore him.”

“I wish he could have experienced it anyway.”

The two of you settle into silence as you empty your now cold cup of coffee, the sounds of the ever-present crows filling the air. Unsaid words hanging low in the air. But thickening it enough, for neither to be able to speak more.

---

You used to love winter, one of the reasons you moved up here. But now it only seems to drag on and on. Coating everything in its white blanket of innocence. Covering the guilty people living here.

Wilbur used to enjoy the spring, he always told you it was his favourite season, as the flowers bloom and gave you a newfound beauty, in his words. You remember, the two of you spending countless hours underneath the old oak tree. Him strumming his guitar until late in the night, as you would tell him the stories you would gather from the patrons at the bar you used to work at as a teenager.

The two of you dreaming up lives you would live when you were older, a cottage on the outskirts of a town he would create. A kitchen overflowing with food and pots and pans. As you would cook for the town’s citizens, living out your own dream of selling your homemade food.

Talking about watching the sunset on a poach, children running around in the backyard. He wanted two boys and a girl, while you wanted one of each. Hoping to pass down his charm and good looks. The feeling of an ever-present happiness high in the air.

An ever-present happiness you would no longer be able to archive now.

Your dreams shattered the day that blade pierced through him. Held by his father, the man you had come to know as the most calming presence you had ever met.

It took you a while to forgive Phil for what he had done.

You watched as he and Technoblade moved on right outside of your cabin. You watched as you couldn’t get out of bed, and the two of them gained new friends and new lives. Envy and anger filling the air of your cabin, fast and suffocating you slowly whenever you’re alone.

You roll over in your bed hoping to be taken back into your dreams, hoping for them to be the good kind like the ones you used to imagine with Wilbur.

Instead, you are dragged right back into your nightmares watching him slowly descending into madness.

---

You look around your kitchen, ever bare from anything. Never really holding food anymore. Scarce of pots and pans, not wanting to be reminded of the dreams you could never achieve. Let alone reach for these days.

You walk right through, heading for your coat and boots. Suiting up before you step into the cold. But as your eyes grace over the second hook, the one that used to hold Wilburs coat. Now empty. Sends a sting through your heart.

Tommy had gotten it from you when he lived with Technoblade after his exile of L’Manberg. You had watched as he stared after it each time he had been into your house.

The house that never quite felt like a home. Not when Wilbur hadn’t been the one to hang the coat there back in the day. But yourself. Hoping that one day he would walk through the door moaning about the cold and having forgotten his coat.

But he never did.

So, you gave it to Tommy. Committing the way his face lit up at the gesture to memory. He looked truly happy for the first time since he had come out to the Tundra.

You shake the feeling of longing off yourself as you head into the cold, letting the ever-present winter clear your head. On a mission to collect wood for Technoblade. He had asked you for logs the other day, and you had promised to get him some.

Although you were suspecting it was a scheme to get you out of bed, and out of your house for a couple of hours. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done so, and you have a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

He had been there for you back when Wilbur and Tommy had created Pogtopia. Wilbur’s second nation, another promise for freedom, that had only seemed to tear the one you loved apart, more than fix him.

The nation acting as a band-aid on a cut so deep it was merely the thought that counted.

You remember watching the stars nearly every night as the cave was cold and unwelcoming whenever Wilbur started drinking. You remember hearing him yell at Tommy, but doing nothing out of fear that he would turn his attention to you. Never before had you been so happy for being neglected by the one you loved.

Technoblade had been there some nights, right beside you, telling you stories of Wilbur before the two of you met, which wasn’t many, but it was enough to fill the air with a hope. A hope that this was but a period to pass, and the one you loved would return to you.

He never did.

You track over the snow and into the forest, following the pathway Techno and Phil have created over the time living here. Right into the clearing that is slowly growing larger as the three of you are slowly cutting the forest down. And now that Ranboo is here too, it’s only growing bigger faster. Another constant change in your life.

Another thing you can’t stop or help, as you watch it deteriorate in front of your eyes.

It takes you most of the day to chop down the wood and cut it into small enough pieces, that you can carry it back to the commune. It takes the rest of your day to carry it all back and leaving it to dry in the shed, which Techno built as one of the first things.

“Dried wood is important, you can’t survive without a fire.”

Back then the commune had been even quieter. Due to yourself having gone through the days in a daze, not talking to anyone after what had happened. It had been the only thing on your mind.

Phil’s sword. Your scream. The emptiness that followed.

Phil had been to one to coax you out of your silence, in the end. With the help of Techno, despite the latter enjoying the silence the Tundra brought.

You watch as nightfall comes, and the mobs start to emerge in the dark.

You know you should be heading inside. But you can’t help but stand on the porch watching out over the night. The stars lighting up the sky and making the darkness feel less lonesome.

You miss the sound of Techno’s door opening. Instead, envying the crows as some of them take off. Wishing to be one of them, no care in the world. Only the world to explore, and never having to feel the hurt of losing someone. Twice.

“Y/n, come on, let's get you inside.”

You nod, following him inside his cabin, smelling the potato soup in the air. Thankful for the warm fireplace that has been lit. It would take hours for your own to warm up your house since you let the fireplace burn out yesterday. You let it burn out yet again.

Neither of you mentions that you found the woodshed over half full. Neither of you mentions that it takes over a month to burn through the shed. Neither of you mentions that you are just working to make your life pass, but living.

---

When you returned home that night, your fireplace was lit. He had done it for you. Not letting you return to a cold and lonely house.

That was the night you pulled out a pan for the first time in a long while.

You stocked your kitchen cabinets with food from a nearby village, and then you rolled up your sleeves.

You work in your own kitchen tirelessly for two days and nights. Feeling your grasp on yourself slipping. But refusing to stop.

Stuck in a living daydream of the domestic life you never got. As uneaten food starts to pile up, and your eyes start to drop. You can feel yourself slipping into a slumber sitting on your kitchen floor. Tears streak down your chin, as you cry out for Wilbur once again.

Phil finds you there, the next morning, concerned for not having seen you out of your house for days. And now even more concerned as he takes in the mess you are living amidst. Half-finished dishes still on the stove, that has burned out. The dinner table filled with dirty kitchenware, and dishes he has never seen before in his life.

Phil makes a decision that morning, that refuses to watch another person he cares for wither away in front of him.

You find yourself from that day off, getting woken up by Phil, asking you to share a cup of tea with him on the porch.

Sometimes Techno joins the two of you. But never often, the man as nocturnal as Wilbur used to be.

You look over the snow once again, as you wish winter is soon to be over. But it never seems to be.

---

You take up painting after this, you aren’t perfect at it, never having done it before. But it helps you keep yourself out of your head, and you enjoy the time you spend on creating artwork.

You remember Wilbur owning a small portrait of his mom made in grey tones, back then you had been worried over the sombre feeling the grey tones gave you. A feeling of fear following the sombreness. A feeling of fear you vowed to never induce in others.

Yet, you find yourself drawn to the grey tones whenever you pick up a paintbrush, and so the sunrise gets recreated in sombre colours, the cabins, Phil and Techno. The pictures aren’t great, but they resemble what they are enough to be recognisable.

But one motive seems to come again and again, although as time moves on, Wilbur seems to fade out from your pictures. In the beginning, he seemed to be in every other one. But now he seems to slowly stop showing his face in them, just as in your dreams.

You start not seeing him everywhere you look.

Your kitchen isn’t as scary to move around in anymore, more days than not, you are having guests in the form of Phil, Techno or Ranboo eating over. You even get to meet Ranboos platonic husband Tubbo and their child.

Tommy comes over from time to another telling you of the stories back from the town that has now taken over L’Manberg.

And Phil lets you meet Ghostbur.

Oh, Ghostbur, another shell of the man you used to love. Neither an empty shell nor a dead one. But a cold smiling one.

You let him into your home. And even if you get teary-eyed every time you look at him and his cheerful attitude. Nobody mentions it.

This is the period where your cold house in the Tundra, started turning into a warm and lived-in home. Although the winter is still raging on outside your window, you are never truly cold on the inside anymore.

You still struggle with getting out of bed on the worst days, still grieving the man you had to first watch wither away in front of you, only to be killed. But you refuse to let it be the thing defining you.

You start accompanying Phil and Techno on some of the adventures, exploring places that aren’t the town you grew up in, or the SMP. You walk through your first jungle, painting a greyscale version as soon as you return home, proudly presenting it on your wall when it’s finished.

You listen to Ghostbur as he tells you about the happy memories the two of you have together. Reminiscing sitting under the old oak tree together.

You still sometimes forget he isn’t Wilbur when he knocks on your door, and you are instead presented with a handful of blue and the translucent guy. Instead of your ex-fiancé. But it gets easier, then more times he shows up.

Whenever he talks, you barely ever escape into your own head anymore. The domestic dream starts to fade, as you replace it with happy memories and people around yourself.

The fireplace never left to burn out in the night anymore.

You start getting up before Phil, greeting him on the porch with tea. You smile at the thought. You never really drink coffee anymore. Not needing the caffeine as the nightmares have stopped being the thing that greets you whenever you lie your head onto your pillow.

The sleepless nights get replaced with peaceful slumber.

While you still see Wilbur in your dreams, it’s no longer the shell of the man in Pogtopia, or the shell Phil held that fateful day.

It’s the one that proposed to you when he started a revolution. It’s the hopeful and idealistic one you remember. The one you grew up with.

While those mornings you are quieter to be around, you no longer let it take over your day. As of now, you have a life to live. Truly living and no longer just letting time pass by as you work.

---

You listen to the crows as you stand on the porch, tea in hand, and a cup waiting for Phil. Another one standing beside that one, in case Techno is to join the two of you.

You enjoy the calmness as you can see the red start to spread over the horizon painting the sky and the grey clouds. You know summer is approaching. The snow has started to melt in some places. While it still snows most days, the rain has started showing its face from time to another, and it seems today will be one of those days.

None of you say anything, as Phil comes out of his house, and Techno stalks out of his own too. You all just watch as the sky goes from red to orange and the rain starts to fall.

Winter finally seems to be over. And you let in the feeling of happiness that you thought was unreachable.

But right here, watching the sunrise between two people, who care for you, and whom you care deeply for. Happiness isn’t the domestic life you never got, but the peace you have found with never getting the life you dreamt of.

And right here, in the rain under the sunrise, is where you spot a figure on the horizon.

A figure who, the closer it walks, takes up a silhouette you could recognise any day of the week.

As the silhouette steps closer, your eyes fixate on his face. The wrinkles that now adorn it, the white streak in his hair. The charming face you once fell for.

Time seems to slow down as he makes eye contact with you, and you let go of your cup. Letting it crash onto the porch.

“Missed me, Darling?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot fic #c!wilbur #ghost wilbur #ghostbur #philza #technoblade #delias own writing #gender neutral!reader

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hanatiny · 4 years ago

Text

[4:04] Heart Not Found

a/n // disclaimer: I’d like to make it clear that I neither condone nor endorse any of the behavior described in this fic. Each of the characters acknowledges that it is beyond unacceptable and unjustified; this is merely meant to be an experimental look at the psychological processes within a yandere’s mind. Furthermore, this work is purely fictional and I do not claim to personally know exactly how any of the ateez members behave.

a/n: If there’s anything potentially triggering that I have forgotten to list in the warnings, please let me know and I’ll fix my mistake asap!! thank you <3

pairing: yandere!San x genderneutral!reader x pianist!boyfriend!Hongjoong

genre: angst

word count: 2602

warnings: non-idol AU, murder, descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood and death, mentions of knives, San is highly obsessive in this, he threatens the reader but doesn’t actually hurt them, kidnapping, trespassing, swearing, I did my best to keep the violence as vague as possible

-----

It was around 3am and you had yet to return home, and to say San was unnerved about this fact would be a massive understatement.

It wasn’t unusual for you to get home when it was already dark outside but it was never after midnight, much less in the early morning hours it was approaching now.

San tapped his fingers against the glass of his window anxiously as he watched the streets below attentively. You had turned off your phone a while ago, or at least that was the conclusion he drew after he stopped getting a signal from the tracker he had secretly managed to install on your phone.

3:12... why weren't you home yet?

His jaw went tense when he finally caught sight of you a few excruciatingly long minutes later, and he absolutely fumed as he saw you holding hands with another man he had never seen before in his life- he paused.

He did recognize the man, as none other than the pianist Kim Hongjoong who had been gaining quite a bit of popularity in the recent months. Kim Hongjoong, who he had gone to high school with until the older dropped out to focus on his career instead.

San didn't care much for that though, because a pretty face and a talent like Hongjoong's didn't mean he could love and care for you like you deserved it.

San believed that only he could give you everything you needed and wanted, and everything beyond that. Which was exactly why he was seeing red, punching the wall next to himself angrily. It caused his knuckles to bleed from the force behind the action, but the rage he felt overshadowed his pain.

Why didn’t you realize you were destined to be his and his alone? That you shouldn’t go whoring yourself out to other men? That only he should be the one to hold you in his arms, the one to protect you from everyone and everything.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why you couldn’t feel his attraction to you, why you insisted on turning a blind eye to him and found him “weird.” That’s what he assumed to be the case, at the very least.

San loved you, why was that so damn difficult for you to understand?

His narrowed eyes flickered over to the knife resting on his bedside table, and he had it clutched tightly in his bleeding hand within the blink of an eye.

He darted down the stairs without a second thought, blinded by the rage he felt deep within himself.

Meanwhile, outside, you were hugging your boyfriend goodbye for the night. His dark eyes shone innocently as he kissed your nose affectionately, causing you to giggle while still having your hands intertwined.

“So I’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow for brunch, yeah?”

“Sounds good, Hongjoongie~ I’ll see you then.” You playfully blew him a kiss before he turned and walked off into the night, rounding the corner shortly after.

It was San’s time to strike, using your distracted state of mind to creep up behind you and tightly wrap an arm around your torso while he held the knife to your throat in warning.

You didn’t recognize his voice at first when he whispered into your ear, your brain much too clouded from the feeling of fear filling you, “If you make any sound at all, I’ll personally slit your throat and cut your vocal cords. You don’t want to lose an angelic voice such as yours, do you~?”

Realizing your situation was hopeless due to the unexpected amount of strength the man holding you possessed, you stopped trying to kick him and wrestle yourself free. This was the only answer he needed, starting to take slow and deliberate steps backwards from your house over to his. His hold on you remained tight, borderline suffocating even, just in case you would dare to get bold and try something.

He had left his door slightly ajar, kicking it shut behind him once he had finally brought you inside of his living space.

You still found yourself unable to figure out the identity of the man who had burst into your comfort zone out of nowhere but you didn’t want to find out what he was capable of doing to you if you attempted to resist whatever he was in the process of doing and pinpoint who he was, considering the amount of ease with which he snuck up and took hold of you just a few minutes ago.

Casually dropping his knife onto a nearby cupboard, he led you down the hallway of his house to a spacious bedroom. It was then a figurative lightbulb went off in your head and the fog clouding your mind cleared, upon seeing certain pieces of furniture he had placed in the room.

You had been here before. You had been in this house before when he had just moved in and his furniture was all over the place, he was the ‘cute neighbor’ who had offered you some coffee and invited you over to ‘get to know each other a little.’ Now all you needed to do was remember his name- it clicked. You remembered.

His grip on you (probably purposely) loosening, you whirled around and took a few steps away from him. San didn’t seem all too fazed by it though, simply grinning knowingly at you and crossing his arms while you did your best to subtly gain proper awareness of your surroundings.

It seemed like he noticed, however, because that was when he finally spoke up again.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to recognize me, love. You know who I am, don’t you~?” His tone was so calm that it unsettled you to the point of having to avert your eyes, your head hanging low as you nodded hesitantly, hardly even noticing his use of the pet name.

“I knew it...~” San’s voice trailed off into a purr that you weren’t sure how to feel about, deciding that being wary was likely the smartest thing you could do in your current situation.

Too lost in thought, you didn’t realize he had stepped closer to you while you were internally debating with yourself, pleased that you seemed to remember what he said about speaking.

“Now, I have something to take care of for a little bit... I trust that you’ll be good and not leave this room.” Although a smile was painted on his features, it didn’t make his tone sound any less threatening. Not willing to find out what might happen if you didn’t react, you nodded once more.

“That’s my good dove~” All of it disgusted you - from the way he cooed at you, over the way his lips twitched upwards into a grin, to the way he looked at you like you were the only person in this twisted world.

You hated it and yet there you stood, in the middle of this sicko’s bedroom, frozen with uncertaintly and fear. You only scarcely resisted the urge to punch him in the face, watching closely as he left a few moments later and closed the door behind himself.

You heard him lock it as well, heaving a shaky sigh when you believed him to be out of earshot.

Your body shook with rage, how did he have the audacity to just kidnap you like that and walk away like he didn’t commit a goddamn felony? Your first instinct was to break something, and you figured that the window might be the first best thing - just in case it’d give you an opportunity to escape.

Looking around, you were quick to find a small hammer in a drawer. You swung it against the glass with every bit of force you could muster, only for the object in your hand to bounce back without leaving even so much as a crack. Dumbfounded by the fact that San had even reinforced his windows to keep you from leaving him, clearly having planned this for a while, you dropped the hammer next to you and sank to your knees.

You curled in on yourself, sobs wracking your body as you were forced to come to terms with the reality that you were trapped. Trapped in this room, trapped with your not-so-innocent-and-sweet neighbor.

Meanwhile, San’s steps were hurried as he sought out your boyfriend’s house, knife in hand while he occasionally glanced at his phone. It probably wasn’t very smart of Hongjoong to have his personal address publicized for fan mail purposes, considering how easily it could be exploited by people like San.

He should’ve been freezing out in the cold air at 3:35 in the very early morning, but the blood practically boiling in his veins kept him from being affected by it much. It was almost too easy for him to trespass onto the desired property when he finally reached it, breaking the lock on the door effortlessly with the blade of his knife.

Hongjoong had a habit of staying up as late as it was humanly possible, and it was rather common knowledge that he sometimes didn’t even sleep at all. As such, San was not the least bit surprised to faintly hear someone playing the piano when he stepped into the house as quietly as he could.

He followed the sound, eventually coming to a large room filled with a variety of instruments of different sizes. In the middle was, as San had to begrudgingly admit, a beautiful piano. Its seat was occupied by his very target, Hongjoong, who was aware of the younger man’s presence and let his fingers press against the black and white keys once more.

The sound the action produced was so disharmonious that it made San physically cringe as he stared the young pianist down, the latter of whom finally lifting his head with a deep, exasperated sigh.

“This is about y/n, isn’t it? I’ve noticed the way you look at-”

“You saw nothing! You know nothing! Do you have any fucking clue how painful it is to see the one you love with someone else, to not even have them spare you a single glance because of how little they care about you?” San was furious at this point, blinded by his rage, Hongjoong flinching and recoiling in his seat at the harsh tone employed by the other male as he continued, “I know you don’t. You were always the prodigy and excelled at what you did, got everything you wanted so easily... including the one thing I wanted too. I can’t live with that, and neither will you.”

“I-I didn’t- That’s not-” Hongjoong stammered, trying to defend himself before quickly realizing it was a futile endeavor when he saw San lunging at him with his knife clutched tightly in his hand. His reflexes were fast as he tried to reach for a nearby violin to whack the latter unconscious with but the crazed younger was, to his demise, much faster and pinned him to the surface of his piano while the keys beneath him produced another dissonant sound.

It didn’t exactly help that San was not only taller but also more muscular than Hongjoong, so the latter’s tries to wiggle and struggle free were for nothing. He groaned in pain as the wooden edges of his instrument forcefully dug into his skin; he clawed at it, but to no avail. He had no chance against San.

Despite knowing how hopeless it was for himself, Hongjoong refused to go down without a fight and proceeded kick and scream in San’s hold, “You’re making a huge m-mistake-”

His vision spun before going black, his pleas going silent while his body went limb. Everything stopped, except for San. He continued to stab and mutilate the older until he deemed it enough and was satisfied, stepping backwards after. He got what he came here for. Taking a quick picture with his phone to show to both you and the police what had taken place (although he’d come up with an alibi for the authorities, of course), he backtracked his steps and left the house as fast as his feet would take him.

Still under the safe and dark blanket of the night, he made his way back to his own house. Making sure to hide the bloody knife where no one would find it, he cleaned himself off briefly before he got an idea for how he could use the ‘souvenir’ he brought for you.

You jumped slightly in your spot on San’s bedroom, curled up and hiding your face behind your knees even now, when you heard him slam the front door shut which signalled you that he had returned from whatever he was out doing. You feared the worst as you listened carefully, presuming the noise he was making to be coming from his kitchen.

You looked up when the bedroom door clicked open and San entered, a smug and satisfied grin on his face as he moved to set a jar on the bedside table before crouching in front of you.

“I’m home, bunny. Did you miss me~?” His falsely innocent, sweet tone was still something you despised, although you felt genuine fear for what he could do to you simply by looking at the tiny smudge of blood lingering on his cheek, so you nodded obediently.

“Good. I just had to have a little chat with your pretty boy, and look what he gave me~!” San cheerfully nudged his head towards the bedside table, and the sight you were met with made you feel sick to your stomach.

What you assumed to be Hongjoong’s bloody heart. In a jar. You kept glancing back and forth between him and the object, gaping at him in both shock and disbelief of what he had done.

“What do you think of it, love? Pretty, isn’t it~? Go on, tell me.” He encouraged you softly, "You told him he had your heart right? Now you have his forever!” He chirped, and your voice was shaky as you spoke.

“Y-you monster!” You exclaimed, cursing yourself internally for your stuttering as you cursed at him, “You heartless bastard, you didn’t have to kill him!”

“I didn’t want to kill him,” he admitted softly, looking down as if he felt any sense of remorse for any of his actions within the last hour or so, “but he left me no choice. He refused to break up with you. He refused to let me love you without... all this.” He gestured vaguely, pulling out his phone to show you the photo he took, “He refused to let me have even one thing I wanted for myself, even though he always got whatever he wished for. Desperate times require desperate measures, I had no choice...”

San trailed off, your own face paling at the realization that Hongjoong had been murdered because of a petty rivalry of sorts from the past that San had yet to let go of.

Feeling lightheaded by the abundance of information swimming in your already aching head, you blacked out. When you came to your senses again, it appeared to be morning and San was making noise in another room.

Tears wet your face as you shakily reached for your phone, wishing you hadn’t because the very first notification you opened was a headline you had prayed wouldn’t be reality, accompanied by the very picture San had taken the previous night.

“Up and coming pianist Kim Hongjoong brutally murdered in his home last night; investigations still ongoing”

----- Taglist (tell me if you wanna be added):

@cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva @galaxteez @innosintsan @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @nightqueennyx @twancingyunhoe @vocalyunho @yunhoiseyecandy

Network tag:

@8makes1teamnet

#8makes1teamnet #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #hongjoong angst #san angst #ateez hongjoong angst #ateez san angst #just- just don't ask where the idea for this came from. I swear I'm not crazy-#hanatiny writes

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