#we got that one glimpse in damage control where he tagged them to complain about an employee sgzdugdh he's just like that all the time

[wandaxpietro]

everything goes so slow for pietro i am 100% convinced he's incredibly terminally online to get his dopamine hits. he's so active on twitter people are worried about him. he keeps getting suspended bcuz he keeps sending people death threats and doxxing them and then has to call tony up so he can pay to get his accound back. he shows up in front of houses of people he beefs with. he fights with teenagers online all day. the official avengers twitter account has him blocked.

[shes-an-oddbird]

Christmas at River’s End Mall

Summary -  A Christmas AU in which everyone navigates their seasonal jobs, relationships and Christmas spirit, or lack there of, through woven together tales inspired by holiday prompts.

Chapter 2 - Silver Bells

Fitz, a self proclaimed Grinch, finds a bright spot in his retail hell in the form of the new gift wrap girl who works across from him and always wears a silver bell.

Prompt - Silver Bell Relationship - FitzSimmons POV - Fitz  

It’s just seasonal work. Fitz tells himself as he explains the purpose of the air fryer to a little old lady.

It’s just to make the extra cash he needs for the flight home. He encourages himself as he listens to a customer tell him about why one home security system is better than another.

It’s not the customers’ fault that they’re all complete morons. Fitz reminds himself as he waves goodbye to the family he had just helped purchase a remote control car that their kid was probably going to drive off the roof of their house.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he understood this tech stuff, as the manger so eloquently put it, he’d have been fired the first day. But when you can fly the demo drones as well as he can and repair the ones that have dropped over the side of the balcony, they let perpetual grumpiness slide. Still, it went without saying that he was not built for retail work.

Not every customer was awful. A couple of times now he’d helped a father and daughter duo who asked about the drones. Though it wasn’t with the usually onslaught of questions that made him painfully roll his eyes. No the little girl, Hope, he thinks her father had called her, was brilliant and her dad was dead set on not buying her a piece of junk. Fitz was able to give his honest and expert opinion and the father promised to be back once he’d done some research of his own.

If all his customers were like them, he wouldn’t mind the job so much.

But they weren’t, they were pushy and obnoxious. Fitz longed for the quiet hours of the day, after the mall walkers and stay at home parents left and before school and work let out.

That was when he heard it the first time.

The slightest jingle of a silver bell.

Just across from the store’s prime corner lot location a gift-wrapping station had been set up. Equip with rolls upon rolls of paper in ever color and pattern imaginable and a workspace that made him envious. The gift station was new, the one located downstairs no longer sufficient for the mall’s growing number of customers. May, the mall’s event coordinator, who interviewed pretty much everyone who came in for seasonal work, was escorting a beautiful girl about his age to the kiosk. She was wearing a festive dark green sweater and hanging around her neck on a long blue ribbon is a bell.

With every move she makes the bell rings. She steps behind the table and May gives her an empty cardboard box to wrap. She does so with the biggest smile on her face. In just minutes she hands May a stunning gold package with a shimmering silver bow. May looks impressed, which is saying something. He still remembers his interview. Because he’d be demoing the electronics and interacting with the mall patrons May had wanted to meet him. She had praised his skills but called him out on his lack of Christmas spirit.

“If you’re going to be doing this job Fitz you’re going to have to find some Holiday joy.”

May hands the woman a smaller item to wrap this time. It kind of looks like a tool from where he is. This one gives the gift wrapper only a moments pause before she slices off a length of sparkling red paper and begins to carefully fold it all while the gadget sits aside. He watches, unsure her plan, until a perfect sized gift bag begins to take shape. With just a minimal amount of tape it stands and she is able to slide the gift inside. She flips the top closed, hits it with the stapler and strategically attaches a shiny white bow to cover the sliver of metal.

May is pleased. She gives the woman a handshake and leaves.

Still with a smile on her face and chiming at every turn the woman turns and admires her new work station. She than turns her eyes up and scans the stores around her, likely to see what she might spend her time wrapping. When she catches his eyes he flinches.

He shouldn’t have been watching her this whole time. It was probably creepy. But she doesn’t notice or hadn’t because she gives him a cheery wave before returning her attention to her work. It isn’t long before she had a customer.

And then many more.

Word of her skill spreads fast and soon has even less down time than himself.

She has many guests too. Daisy, a volunteer and May’s adopted daughter who makes trips around the mall ensuring that Christmas cheer was well spread, visited often. Clearly the pair was close as he typically heard laughter coming from the station. He had been joyfully reprimanded by Daisy on more than one occasion for frowning, although it was all in good nature. She’d do her best to make him smile and he’d stubbornly keep up his Grinch persona.

A persona that was getting harder and harder to keep up. He still didn’t know her name, to nervous to get close enough to read her name tag without feeling creepy, but whoever she was, she was always in a good mood and it was annoyingly infectious.

That damn bell around her neck. She wore it every day and the noise should have driven him crazy like the Christmas music did but instead he looked forward to it. Now when the quiet of midafternoon rolled around it was an oddly pleasant reminder that he wasn’t the only one stuck in retail Christmas hell and something about that put him in a good mood.

“Look at you, Daisy been on your case today Mate?”

“What are you talkin about?” He asks around a bite of his lunch.

Hunter scoffs in disbelief. “That dumb grin that's been on your face since we went on break.”

“Its nothing."

He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious. Just earlier he’d had potentially the worst customer of the season. A woman who couldn’t understand why the price of the smart home system she wanted wasn’t the same as the price in their advertisement. When he tried to explain to her that that was a basic model and the one she selected was upgraded she whined that they looked exactly the same. At that point he had called over a manager who informed her it was a software upgrade and it wouldn’t look any different.

Still unsatisfied, she complained that for the price it should have all the features and stormed out.

The manager had applauded his ability to keep his cool and immediately let him go back to demos. As he was setting up one of his favorite drones when he caught sight of the gift wrapping girl looking at him. She smiled at him sympathetically before looking in the direction that the woman had stomped off in and then turned back to him making a fake gagging expression.

She understood.

“Nothing is awfully pretty, mate." Hunter says, pulling him back to the present.

“What?”

“The elf that’s working at the gift wrap kiosk.”

“How do you – “

“Bobbi can see you from the coffee shop.”

Of course she can.

“I don’t even know her, she waves hello to me in the morning that’s it.”

“Well I have a thought to remedy that.” Fitz was starting to regret taking his break with Hunter.

“And what's that?”

“Why don’t you just go talk to her?”

Fitz immediately shakes his head. “I can’t, she’s the embodiment of Christmas spirit and I’m – “

“The Grinch.”

Fitz frowns at him.

“Why don’t you take something over there to get it gift wrapped, it’ll give you an excuse to talk to her.”

“I haven’t got anything to have wrapped.”

“You’ve been pulling double shifts and don't have anything to show for it?”

“You know I’m trying to get home to see my mum.” If that meant his friends didn't get any gifts this year they'd just have to deal with it.

“Whatever, if you don’t talk to her by the end of the week, you’re taking my gifts over there and having them wrapped.”

Not its his turn to scoff. “What gifts, you blew all your money on the exhibition ticket.” Fitz won’t admit to being jealous that Hunter had a ticket to the football match. It wasn’t till the spring but their teams weren’t exactly stateside often so the tickets went fast.

“Don’t be bitter, I’ve got a buddy who can still hook you up with a decent seat.”

“Don’t you have to get back to your tree lot.”

***

“Fitz," he jumps at the manager's shout, "I need you flying the camera drone.”

“Why?”

“Because we’ve got stock, now get on it please, show it off, do some of that trick flying.”

Fitz rolls his eyes and sets up the camera drone for demo. Its not his favorite. The flight controls are temperamental and the camera was fuzzy, but they were cheap and on the top of every gift guide so they had about a hundred of them in the back. Even with the poor controls he does manage to pull a crowd. Saturday meant there were kids and they were dragging their parents over wide eyed and ready to beg. Amongst the crowd he spots Hope and her father. He presses a button that syncs the drone to the big screen they have mounted just inside the store's entrance and hovers the drone in front of them. They wave at the screen and Hope beams when she catches herself on the TV.

His manager was ecstatic.

He does an impressive spin with the drone, flying it over the balcony and up towards the third floor. There is a round of applause and the distant sound of a bell. He glances over at the gift wrap kiosk and to his shock he sees her clapping as well. She gives him a little wave and he quickly waves back, the drone dips drastically, sending the crowd scattering as it veers towards them.

“SORRY!”

He swoops it back upwards, hovering it well above the patrons heads as he apologizes to them and they disperse. He looks back at the controls, preparing to land it and check it over for damage when he catches a glimpse of something on the camera screen. The drone had been hovering over the gift wrap station, the camera angled towards the girl whose holding up a scrape of gift wrap with words scrawled across it.

Nice flying.

He looks up to find her smiling back. Suddenly he’s thankful for the kitschy features of the cheap drones. He quickly brings up the keyboard and sends a message to the drone.

Thanks.

She holds up the scrap of paper, more words added to the bottom.

What’s your name?

Fitz types back quickly. This wasn’t exactly how he thought meeting her would go but he wasn’t complaining.

Fitz. What’s yours?

Jemma.

[secret-engima]

Snippet of There is No “Us” in Number One Chap 4

(A wild AU drama has appeared! Also, tagging @wolfsrainrules @north-peach @suolainensilakka cause this might interest ya’ll)

     “So what you’re saying is-” Toshinori stopped mid-sentence, head tilting to listen to something else.

     Naomasa stiffened subtly at Toshinori’s freeze, eyes drinking in their surroundings for a threat, “What’s wrong, Toshi?”

     A shriek and an explosion echoed several blocks down, followed by loud, angry yelling. Toshinori felt his shoulders relax in an exasperated sigh even as Naomasa’s hand went for the gun hidden under his shirt, “Villains-!”

     Toshinori shook his head and placed a bony hand on his friend’s to keep him calm, “No. It’s fine. I know who that is. Come on, I should probably break it up before the neighbors start complaining again.” He took off for the sounds at a light jog, Naomasa following behind and radiating incredulous disbelief.

     More explosions sounded along with more cursing and a feral shriek that Toshinori knew from experience was a challenge. Naomasa felt like a tight wire at Toshinori’s back, no doubt imagining the worst, but any comment he might have made over Toshinori’s lack of alarm faded when he saw that everyone else in the area was the same way. The pedestrians were all calm, having relaxed as soon as they heard the animal shriek, and several were even rolling their eyes. An older man complained as Toshinori passed, “You still haven’t taught those boys of yours to be quieter? I swear it’s like living next to a warzone whenever those two get going.”

     Naomasa gave a high pitched, strangled noise at the man’s remark of “your boys”, but Toshinori just laughed apologetically and murmured, “I know, Abe-san, I’m working on it.” Abe-san sniffed officiously but if he intended to make another comment, Toshinori was already too far away to hear it.

     The sound of explosions, yelling, and draconic roars led Toshinori in the direction of the neighborhood park and he allowed himself another sigh. He had a feeling he knew exactly what was going on. He’d had two years to learn the routine around here after all. Naomasa still seemed to be having trouble processing the events though, as he broke his tight silence to demand, “You have children, Toshi? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

     Toshinori managed to suppress the bloody cough that tried to rise at his friend’s accusing tone, “Um, I have? I mean, they aren’t actually my boys it’s just everyone calls them that because they’ve taken a liking to me, and Izuku doesn’t actually have a father figure in his life but really-!”

     Something like understanding and disbelief crossed Naomasa’s face, “Wait, those two boys you’re always bragging about? The ones who want to make the other kid the Number One hero? The ones you’d keep pictures of in your wallet if you weren’t terrified it would somehow put them in danger? They’re at the source of those explosions?”

     Toshinori felt heat bloom all over his face. It wasn’t his fault he bragged —a little— over the boys. They just had so much potential and heart, it was enough to make him cry sometimes. Izuku’s depthless kindness and truly genius mind for strategy. His courage and warmth despite having a quirk that came with a plethora of complications and disabilities. His passion for helping people that seemed to come to him as naturally as breathing. 

     Then there was Katsuki, with raw talent practically coming out of his ears, a protective streak as wide as China and a level of humility that bordered on an inferiority complex when it came to just how much good he did for the community. A boy with the natural disposition of a rabid porcupine who was trying so hard to better himself, even when it went against every instinct he had. Who had come so far but still held himself to some kind of invisible standard that made him fight and push and struggle to reach even higher.

     They were unquestionably the most heroic kids of their generation Toshinori had ever met. To the point where he had even begun to consider- Well. Passing the torch. He was just having a terrible time picking which one to pass it to…

     Okay yes, maybe he did brag about them too much to the few people he trusted, but he could hardly be blamed for it.

     Naomasa was still waiting for a response, so Toshinori swallowed his embarrassment and answered, “Yes. That would be them.”

     Another explosion echoed over the neighborhood and Naomasa gave him a look like Toshinori was insane, “And we aren’t running to help them … why? They could be in serious trouble!”

     Toshinori followed the sound off the paved park trails and into the deeper parts where the trees almost looked wild, “Because unfortunately, they are the trouble.” They had probably either gotten too intense in their sparring or had gotten into another fight with a pack of hoodlums who thought they could move in and bully the other kids in the area. Or, considering the explosion size, a single adult who thought he could sell them illegal drugs. Both boys got very angry when drugs were involved —even Izuku, who was usually the voice of calm reason— and while their fights were technically vigilantism, they’d never been arrested because they always had an excuse for why the fight was not their fault. 

     The usual excuse was for Katsuki to downplay his short fused temper while Izuku spun a sob story about how the other side had started it and it was just overenthusiastic self-defense. Since youth suicide and drug rates had been at a record low in the area ever since the two started having “self-defense encounters”, the local police had quietly turned a blind eye as thanks.

     The part of him that was All Might very much disapproved of it —they were just boys, the police shouldn’t rely on them to keep the peace like that—. The part of him that was Toshinori was just … so proud that they stood up for their neighborhood and so terrified they’d hurt themselves without proper training. He’d ended up making a compromise between his two halves by laying down ground rules for engagements —they couldn’t start the fights, they had to stay as non-violent as possible, they couldn’t hospitalize their opponents, and if they saw an actual villain they had to call it in instead of fight on their own— and then training them in self-defense by giving them “tips” he’d “picked up from being a Pro Hero’s secretary for so many years”.

     Naomasa opened his mouth to ask another question when an explosion ripped the air with enough force to bend trees. A fireball was visible in the near distance —he could feel the heat of it— and Toshinori caught a glimpse of a black figure winging out of the sky with a high scream that sent all his neck hairs on end.

     That was not normal. That wasn’t even Katsuki’s version of overkill when he lost his temper. That explosion had been made to do as much damage as possible and Izuku’s scream had been a call for help.

     Something was very, very wrong.

     Toshinori rounded the bend at a dead run. The Pro Hero part of his brain slammed to the forefront, cataloguing the situation —armed confrontation, five high-school age teens with bats and pipes down and out from minor explosions and controlled dragon-induced blunt trauma— and searching for Katsuki and Izuku.

     Katsuki was up against a half-broken tree, red eyes intense as he struggled upright. One of his wrists was at a bad angle and the smoke curling from the palm told Toshinori that he’d injured it making that last explosion. His forehead was bleeding —possible concussion, he’d have to check later—, his shirt was gone, and there was a nasty collection of bruises forming on his left arm and side.

     Izuku was crouched in front of Katsuki, wings flared protectively and blood dripping from a collection of shallow gashes on his side. His pupils were nothing but paper-thin slits, back arched like a cornered cat and his lips were peeled back to reveal sharp, bloodied teeth. The blue light of a fireball danced in the back of Izuku’s throat and his eyes had a maniac, wild gleam Toshinori had never seen in them before, like he was less a thirteen year old boy and more a rabid animal.

     Across from the boys was a teen with spiked metal plating covering every inch of his body save for a part of his arm where the metal appeared to have been bitten through. Blood dripped from some of the spikes on his hands and he was laughing at them with a mouth so wide Toshinori had no trouble seeing the black tongue within. Sh*t! Naomasa leveled his pistol at the metal spiked aggressor, “You! Down on the ground! Now!” At the sound of Naomasa’s voice both boys glanced frantically over at the two of them and Toshinori cursed as he realized that he couldn’t transform now —should’ve transformed earlier stupid, stupid—.

     But the drugged up teen didn’t seem to even be aware of their presence, just screamed something at Katsuki and Izuku —something about respecting betters and killing them for this— and lunged. Izuku reared up to meet the assault, blue plasma slamming against the oncoming metal chest of his attacker without effect. Toshinori saw the sharp hand spikes —already dripping blood, already proven capable of piercing Izuku’s hard scales— plunge for Izuku’s exposed chest and Katsuki lunge to try to pull his friend away and take the blow for himself somehow and-.

     A controlled —just enough not to kill, if only barely— Texas Smash sent the drug-using teen flying through several trees before he hit the ground and slid with enough force to form a trough in the dirt before stopping. All Might stood before the boys —Toshinori’s boys, his boys, that he had spent two years coming to love with all his heart for their determination and courage despite their secretly broken parts— and couldn’t find it in himself to smile. “Take a piece of advice. Stay down and give yourself up to the law.” His voice boomed over the suddenly quiet area, deep and dangerous.

     The black-tongued teen struggled to sit up, slurring angry nonsense the entire way and All Might brought his fist down on the teen’s head —lightly, couldn’t break the teen’s skull no matter how angry he was—, knocking him out cold. Naomasa was across the clearing in a heartbeat, one hand holding his phone to call in backup while the other pulled out the handcuffs he carried even off duty —both of them knew that All Might’s presence attracted trouble in either form—.

     Silence reigned heavy and angry in the area before it was broken by a shaky, slightly electronic, “Toshinori … san?” All Might startled and looked over his shoulder at the question, having forgotten for a moment that the boys were still there, still watching. Gleaming blue eyes locked first with wide, catlike green, then with worryingly blank blood red and All Might knew that nothing would ever be the same.

[blurry-fics]

Chapter Four

Pairing: None

Warnings: Annoying ex-boyfriend

Word Count: 1511

Author’s Note: Thank you again to everyone who has submitted a response to my survey! I’ll keep this author’s note short because the last one was pretty much as novel. Enjoy chapter four! 💛

You closed the front door and walked over to the couch, tossing your bag by the door as you did so. Today had been one of your extra long shifts, and you were looking forward to laying down on the couch and relaxing. Matthew wasn’t supposed to be home for another couple hours, meaning that you wouldn’t have to worry about him sabotaging your peaceful sleep.

The TV was the first thing you heard when you eventually woke up. Matthew was sitting in the armchair, holding the TV remote in one hand. The volume was much louder than it needed to be, and you knew that it was no accident. He had always been the one to complain that you needed the TV too loud, a result of frequently blasting music in your car as a teenager.

“Do you mind turning that down?” you asked, although the damage had already been done. You were awake, and you wouldn’t be falling asleep again anytime soon.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Matthew immediately turned the volume back down to a level that you would have had no trouble sleeping through. At least the two of you were talking now. He had been a lot more talkative since returning from his weekend trip, although most of what he said was insults and snarky comments. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought you were the one who broke up with him.

You rolled your eyes as you reached over and grabbed your phone from the coffee table to check the time. Your attention was quickly redirected as you caught a glimpse of the familiar green color of the messages app on your screen. One look at the name was enough to put a smile on your face.

“What has you so happy?” Matthew asked as you unlocked your phone.

Your expression quickly faded, “Nothing.”

“Whatever.”

Josh: How’s the hair dye holding up?

You shook your head a bit as you typed out your response.

Y/N: Surprisingly well. I thought the orange would have shown up by now

Josh’s answer was almost instant.

Josh: It’s because you had my help in picking it out

You and Josh had been texting near constantly for the last few days. The two of you were quickly growing close and it was nice to feel like there was actually someone who had your back in the city. Plus it helped to keep your mind off of everything else that you should be worrying about, but had no control over.

Y/N: Sure it is…

Josh: Hey, you never sent me those photos you were talking about last night

“Damn,” you muttered.

You had completely forgotten about that. The two of you had somehow ended up on the topic of your photography business last night and you had promised to send him some of your photos once your laptop was done charging. Of course, it had completely slipped your mind.

Y/N: Oh right, give me a couple minutes

You got up and grabbed your hard drive and laptop from your suitcase on the other side of the room. When you returned, despite the fact that you had gotten up no more than ten seconds ago, Matthew had moved from his spot in the armchair and stolen half the couch.

“Hey, I was sitting there.”

“I can see the TV better from here,” he said, gesturing towards it. “Besides, you don’t get to steal the entire couch.”

“This wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn’t dragged me out here and broken up with me,” you muttered as you sat back down on the opposite end of the couch.

You plugged in your hard drive and began to cycle through photos, looking through the ones that you had been telling Josh about. They were ones that you had taken of Los Angeles the night before you left for Ohio. The sunset that night had been phenomenal. Once you found what you were looking for, you sent them to Josh.

Josh: Y/N! These are amazing! I had no idea that you were so talented

Y/N: Tell that to the people here, my photography business is failing miserably

Josh: Do you have any more photos that I can see? I’m just absolutely blown away

You continued to look through your photos, reliving memories as you selected ones that you thought Josh might like. There were some of your family, the town that you had grown up in, and just random ones that you had taken in your daily life. It was only making you miss doing photography more--you hadn’t really had a chance to do much since the move--although you were happy that Josh was taking such an interest in it.

The two of you talked for awhile longer until he eventually stopped responding. You assumed that he had gotten busy and you had to make yourself dinner anyway. Matthew was taking up most of the tiny kitchen, as he often did, although you managed to make yourself a nice meal with the room he had left for you.

“Can we watch something that we both like?” you asked as both of you sat down on the couch with your dinners.

“I’m in the middle of this show!” he said.

“Yeah, and you can finish it later.”

“If you want to watch something else so badly, you can watch it on your laptop.”

You held back an audible groan and made yourself comfortable, deciding that Matthew’s dumb show was better than watching nothing. Living with him was getting more aggravating by the day, which you were sure was intentional. Even though the two of you weren’t flat out fighting, he knew all the right ways to push your buttons and slowly drive you insane.

The only thing keeping you from giving up completely and moving home was Josh. You knew that if you moved home, things between you and him would essentially come to an end. There was no way a long-distance friendship like that would work, especially since you had met less than a week ago. You just hoped that you would be able to put up living with Matthew long enough to find your own place.

Josh finally texted you again about an hour after you had finished your dinner. Matthew had finally given up on TV and went into his bedroom, allowing you to catch up on the shows you liked.

Josh: Hey, can I call you really quick?

You felt a burst of adrenaline rush through you, but you were curious as to why he needed to call you.

Y/N: Yeah, go for it

You got up from the couch and grabbed your apartment key as you headed out into the hallway; you would rather that Matthew didn’t know who you were talking to. Your phone started to ring right as you closed the door.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” It felt nice to hear Josh’s voice again. “How are you?”

“I’m making it through the week. How about you?”

You opened the door to the stairwell with your hip and took a seat at the top of the stairs.

“I’m doing pretty good. Just working on band stuff.”

“Right, how is that?”

“Good! I’ll have to introduce you to Tyler soon. I think you two would get along really well.”

“I would love to meet him!”

“Yeah. So, the reason I’m calling you.”

“Right.”

“I have an offer for you, if you’re interested.”

“What kind of offer?” you asked, trying to ignore the nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“I can’t tell you that yet, but I can tell you that it’s definitely something you’ll want to consider.”

“When do I get to find out?”

“How about lunch tomorrow? It’s your day off, right?”

“Yeah, it is. And lunch sounds fantastic.”

“Perfect. I think Tyler will be able to come along too.”

“Ok! What are the details?”

“How does one o'clock at the pizza place on fourth street sound?”

“Josh, I moved here just over a month ago. Do you really expect me to know which pizza place you’re referring to?”

This caused him to laugh, “I can text you the address, but does one work?”

“Yeah, one is great.”

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow, yeah.”

“Ok, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

You quickly ended the call. Your mind was swarming with possibilities of what offer Josh could possibly have for you. The answers seemed endless.

Matthew was in the kitchen when you walked into the apartment. He was scooping ice cream into a small bowl.

“Where were you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you shrugged, walking back over to the couch. Matthew just shook his head, grabbed his ice cream, and walked back into the bedroom.

You were feeling somewhere between excited and nervous. Josh’s offer could be about anything, although you were pretty sure it was a positive thing. After all, he would have no reason to sound so excited about something bad, right?

All that was left to do was wait.

Tags (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@svintsandghosts @a-stumpsexuals-world @ohprettyweeper @jigglypuff1999

[cawnvictofmurder]

Gold Forever- Chapter 3 (AO3)

Chapter 1: (tumblr) (ao3)

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Being a Demon isn't what Kei had expected but he thinks he's settled into a decent routine- sleep, work, maybe read a book if he feels like it, and repeat. Then he gets called back into the field and a messy haired Angel makes him feel things he hasn't in years.

Rating: T

Tags: Alternate Universe- Angels and Demons, Violence, Magic, Fantasy, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Friendship, Reincarnation, Blood, Mentions of Death, Partnership, Slow Burn, sort of, slow build at least, Pining

Word Count: 4,366

Notes: More amazing art by @0rchidd​ of Tsukishima here!! Thank you so much for drawing two pieces of wonderful art for the story!!

Kei would rather be dead than be caught hanging around in the rec room.

It’s why, that the moment Tetsurou sits down in the seat across from him, he seriously considers throwing himself out the window just beside the table. His responsibilities could be taken care of first thing tomorrow. Oikawa can wait.

“You’re up late,” Tetsurou says with a delighted grin, settling into his seat with his arms on the table. Kei immediately stands, picking up the folder with his report.

“Hey, come on, don’t leave,” Tetsurou whines, halfheartedly reaching for him. “Didn’t Oikawa want us to hand in that report in person? You need to be here for that.”

“He’s busy,” Kei huffs, considering his options. He could leave. But he would be called back by Oikawa complaining about him being late. Or he could stay, wait until Oikawa was done with whatever business he had in his office. That, however, would mean subjecting himself to Tetsurou’s company- something he would prefer not to do.

But the report…

Looking as if he had been stabbed by a knife, and it was being slowly twisted, he sits back down. Oikawa wouldn’t let his lateness go for a couple of years; Tetsurou hopefully wouldn’t be as bad.

“You already finished both reports?” Tetsurou asks with a slow smirk, watching as he settles back into the chair. He puts his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his hands, slyly smiling at him. Kei starts to reconsider his decision. Wants to smack that expression right off too.

“Yes,” he grumbles out, listlessly dropping the folder back onto the table. The room is filled with soft chatter and he hopes Tetsurou doesn’t want to add to that noise. He staes out the window, watching as the clouds slowly engulf the moon, when he catches the considering look Tetsurou sends his folder.

He narrows his eyes. “Did you do your reports.”

“You could sound more interested when asking.” Quick as a flash, Tetsurou slides the folder towards himself and flips it open. Kei watches blankly as he skims it and cocks his head thoughtfully a few times. “You know this reads as boring as a stale piece of bread?”

“‘The damage of the site was not extensive and repairs were minor…’ or ‘Blessings have been applied to the necessary areas-’ and,” Tetsurou throws him a disbelieving look, “you actually listed everything we blessed?”

Kei glares, reaching over and snatching the folder back. “What do you think the point of a report is?”

“Some kind of punishment from the higher ups,” Tetsurou quips without missing a beat. He waves a hand in the air, exclaiming, “You should make it more thrilling- like ‘after everything was fixed, a ghost jumped out and wrecked everything again’!”

Kei pointedly closes the folder with a soft snap, putting it to the side. The table fits four people and Tetsurou would have to lean forward to grab it again. “You...can do that with your report. I’ll sit here and enjoy watching when you get hauled away for falsifying reports.”

“Harsh. You wouldn’t even help me?”

“No.”

Tetsurou snorts with, what looks like, a fond quirk of his lips, much to Kei’s horror. He waves a hand lazily in the air, mock pouting at Kei. Whatever he was going to say gets dropped when Oikawa hurries over, stopping at their table.

“Sorry, I had a quick meeting with another team.” Oikawa is running a hand through his hair as he asks, “Reports?”

Kei hands over his folder. “We’re not going over this in your office?”

“No, no, there’s something I’m sending you both on right away,” Oikawa tells them, giving the report a cursory skim before closing it. He then levels Tetsurou with an exasperated look. “You.”

“Me,” Tetsurou says weakly, sinking the slightest bit down his chair.

“Get your reports done and hand it in the next time or…” A smug smile slides onto Oikawa’s face, languid and too sweet. “I’ll tell Kenma about this.”

Kei is unbelievably gratified to see Tetsurou wince and droop, giving Oikawa a meek ‘yes…’ with a sullen glare. Whoever Kenma is, Tetsurou obviously did not want to get on their bad side.

“Great!” Oikawa beams at them with a clap of his hands and gestures them up. “Now, come on. I actually have a slightly urgent assignment for you two.”

Oikawa leads them through the rec room and down the office hall, passing his without a glance. Kei catches a glimpse of a few people in the office as they walk by it. They walk past all the offices before they take a right turn, down another hallway.

“A Retrieval Team was sent a couple of minutes ago and the Strike Team is already on site,” Oikawa is informing them as they walk. They stop in front of a white wood door that only swings open when Oikawa touches the handle, his magic sparking against it- a flash of burning cold and bright light in the back of Kei’s head.

“I don’t know how many casualties there will be, but Retrieval will have that handled. Just be on stand by and sweep it all up after, okay?”

Kei and Tetsurou both give affirming noises and they step into the room. The both of them are familiar with the Portal Room; it’s an empty white room with white tiles. The only thing in it is a large door frame without any doors against the back wall, made of black walnut wood and decorated with engravings.

Oikawa stops in front of the frame, reaches out and opens his hand. There’s a flash of green, along with the feeling of cold searing skin, and a key ripples to life in his palm. He grasps it, inserting it into the empty space in the frame and twists. When he backs away, the key is stuck there, as if it’s in an unseen keyhole. Waves of magic ripple out from it to fill the frame.

“Keep your guard up, stay safe,” he tells them as the key melts into a green spot and starts twisting behind him. The green swirls outward until the entire frame is filled and stops, leaving a veil of green, shimmering magic- a portal.

Kei enters the portal with Tetsurou just a step behind him.

The moment the drowning sensation of the portal lets him go, Kei is instantly up and alert, his magical welling up and ready. Tetsurou isn’t far behind him, eyes flashing about and shoulders tense.

They’ve been dropped by a river bank and the scene, lit only by the full moon, is quiet. The river is completely still, mirroring the night sky. Cherry trees line the river from a distance, their rustling a murmur in the breeze. There is a bridge far off but the sounds of cars still reaches them faintly.

The air, however, is heavy with death; a trail of cold fingers down his back as he reaches out with his magic.

“Over there,” Tetsurou whispers, but his words are still loud in the stillness of the night. He’s looking further down by the river, where two people- an Angel and Demon pair- are crouched around something. Further away from the bank is another Angel and Demon pair, spread out and scanning the area with keen eyes.

One of them is already watching them and, when Kei meets their eyes, motions them over.

“Keiji,” Kei greets in a low tone. The Demon has curled messy hair and a wicked control on his magic, something he has once experienced in training. “Casualties?”

“Mm.” Keiji looks over to the pair by the river- the Retrieval Team. “Two casualties. They were dead before we got to the scene. I was able to fight the Kappa off, but it had already started on the body.”

Tetsurou makes a noise from where he stood beside Kei. “A Kappa? They don’t usually go for more than one human at a time.”

“A Kappa and a Suiko,” Keiji corrects, turning to look at the Angel heading towards them. “We thought it was two Kappas, but…”

“Their souls were also eaten,” the Angel finishes before glancing at Tetsurou, brow raised. “You never said anything about coming back into the field.”

Tetsurou gives a slight grin. “It’s only been a few days since I started. Didn’t have time to tell everyone.”

Kei watches as the two of them start talking before looking over at Keiji, who meets his eyes and glances towards the Angel. “You’ve probably already figured it out but this is my partner, Akinori,” he says.

Kei observes Akinori for a moment, noting the blond hair and narrow eyes. It wasn’t like he looked overly special, rather, he seemed pretty...ordinary.

“He’s the one that made that genius breakthrough with the wards?” he dubiously asks. Akinori is jostling shoulders with Tetsurou and the two are mock snapping at each other, practically butting heads.  

Keiji cracks a small smile before murmuring, “I assure you he’s better than what he seems.”

“Well...he does need to keep up with you,” Kei says before turning to watch the Retrieval Team.

The team is still huddled around the thing- which, if Kei really thinks about it, is definitely a body- but beyond a few hand movements they are still. From this distance, without pushing out his magic, he can only feel the static of their presence.  Behind him, a small bicker breaks out- though their tones are thankfully hushed and teasing. Keiji is watching with him, occasionally scanning the area.

There’s a dim glow as the Angel of the Retrieval Team reaches a hand out to, not the body, but the river. A soft mist slowly rises out of the water, much like a normal layer of mist- only this ‘mist’ is a soul, a severely damaged one.

They’re lucky enough there’s even enough of a soul to be recovered, Kei thinks.

Steadily, the mist is gathered into a pale white sphere in the Angel’s hand and, with surge of magic, it compresses down into a tiny, white marble in their hand. Carefully, the soul is passed to the Demon and the Angel reaches out again.

“Are we expecting something?” Kei questions after Keiji finishes another scan of their surroundings. Keiji slowly shakes his head.

“We didn’t sense anything else, but if these weren’t the first humans to die here,” he pauses and sighs. “It’s possible we might be seeing some Furaribi.”

Kei frowns, making a low noise. Furaribi are small, floating creatures coated with fire, formed from the tatters of a damaged soul. If there have been previous deaths and their souls hadn’t been collected…

The Angel steps back, lowering their hand and shaking their head.

“The Suiko most likely ate the souls before they had the chance to become anything else then,” Keiji realizes. They all share a moment of silence before they move, silently giving each other a farewell. Keiji pulls out his pager, sending off an alert, as Kei follows Tetsurou towards the river.

The Retrieval Team has taken care of the body, leaving them with only the minor damage at the sides of the river. Kei senses a portal surging to life behind them before it flickers out, taking Keiji, Akinori and the Retrieval Team away.

“They didn’t leave much to fix,” Tetsurou remarks quietly, observing some claw marks. Kei nods, stepping closer.

He doesn’t even bother bending down, merely tempering down his magic and directing it through his feet and into the ground. He closes his eyes, feeling the dirt and water- it’s tinged with hints of copper and rotten meat. It’s the quickest repair he’s done so far and he’s stepping away, cutting off his magic, the moment it’s finished.

Tetsurou gently brushes past him and reaches his hand out, a languid warmth and light raising with his arm. The blessing takes hold and washes away the disgust and nausea Kei feels; washes away the cold fingers of death until it’s only a faint crawling feeling on their necks.

“Let’s go,” Tetsurou breathes, guiding him away with a hand on his back.

Kei lets him.

He wakes up the next day to another beep of the pager, another ‘SWEEP’ followed by another set of coordinates. He rolls out of bed, gets ready and meets Tetsurou in the parking lot and they head off to their destination.

He does it all again the very next day.

(“You wanna drive?”

Kei gives the offered keys a dirty glare before drawling, “And prevent you from having your own drum performance on the wheel? Never.”

“You’re right,” Tetsurou dramatically gasps. “I would never survive the trip without my own drum solo on the steering wheel. And how could I offer to take you away from the same scenery outside the window for hours?”

Kei huffs, getting into the car and buckling his seatbelt. “Just drive.”

“Yes, sir.”)

All the Sweeps he completes eventually blur into one another and into the next day.

On his downtime, Kei often lounged around in his room with a book or two, unwinding from the back to back assignments. Most of these days, he rarely saw Tetsurou- or anyone else for that matter- and basked in the peace and solitude.

Of course, it’s on one of these days that Tetsurou decided to find out where he lived.

(“Oh, no. How did you find out where I live.”

Tetsurou smirks at him through his doorway, all triumphant and smug. “There’s only two buildings you could be in. If it wasn’t mine, it’s the other.”

“That doesn’t explain how you found out exactly where I live.”

“Oh. That was easy. The elevators show which floor you stop at and that narrowed it down enough for me to track you.”

Kei thinks that he looks way too proud of this feat and simply shuts the door in his face. He ignores the muffled protests and sits back down, picking up his book and continuing where he had left off.)

Occasionally, Kei would spend his downtime to visit a friend at Sentry or take a brief walk around the building. He never went far and, eventually, he’d end up back in his room with a book in hand and gazing out the window.

(“Could you get all the little pieces?” Tetsurou calls as he hefts a log off what once was a porch. The area is a mess, looking as if a tornado had ripped through it. “I’ll do what I can with the cottage.”

“Yeah.” Kei takes in the field, completely covered with debris and splintered wood, and just barely manages to stifle a sigh. It’s just another day, another Sweep.)

Being back in the field is different but, he admits, it isn’t as bad as he had feared it would be. All he hopes is that it would stay that way.

One day, Kei gets the notification for a new assignment- only, it doesn’t come in through his pager.

It came in the form of three knocks at his door and a wash of static.

“Yes?” he drones, flatly staring at the knocker.

Tetsurou beams back at him, rocking on his heels and waving a folder in his hand. “We’re being upgraded! We got a Retrieval instead of a Sweep.”

“Oh.” Kei blinks. “Fun. What kind?”

Tetsurou droops a bit at that, his hand lowering and nose scrunching in distaste. “Unfortunately, city retrieval.”

“Ugh,” Kei grumbles, turning away and walking back into his room. He’s collecting his pager and throwing on a jacket when Tetsurou wanders in, peering at everything in his apartment with wide eyes.

“I went through great lengths to talk Oikawa into giving this to us,” Tetsurou tells him as he inspects the bookshelf, tilting his head to read the titles. “I bet he gave us city retrieval to get back at me.”

“You probably annoyed him enough to assign that.” Kei motions at the folder, taking it and flipping it open. He pauses, staring at the contents before leveling Tetsurou with the flattest look ever. He takes the single piece of paper out and presents it without much flourish.

“This just says ‘get out of my office you shit’”

Tetsurou snatches the paper away with an incredulous ‘what’ and, sure enough, in neat handwriting are the words ‘get out of my office you shit’.

“That little-” Tetsurou is cut off by a beep from both their pagers.

‘US10-RETRIEVAL’ is the message, followed by the name of a ward in Tokyo.

Kei snickers as he heads towards the door, covering his mouth. “Well, I guess you did go through great lengths after all.”

“.....I cannot believe,” Tetsurou is still grumbling as they take the elevator down.

The Sentry building in Tokyo is situated in Taito, the neighbouring district to Chuo- which is their assigned ward.

“It’ll be exciting to walk around, maybe even sightsee!” Tetsurou, who had gotten over his indignation on the train ride over, exclaims.

Kei shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Not really. We have a job to do.”

He’s jostled by Tetsurou nudging him with an elbow and throwing him a convincing grin. “There’s nothing stopping us from sightseeing, we could have a bit of fun, relive our past. We have the entire day!”

“No thanks.”

“Aww, Kei, come on,” Tetsurou whines, speeding up to catch up to his quick strides. They merge into a crowd of shoppers on a street that branches off into smaller streets and alleys. Tetsurou’s voice is quieter, the words only for their ears. “Enjoy it a bit, city retrieval isn’t that interesting.”

“Over there.” Kei ignores him and guides them towards the side and into one of the smaller streets. “I can’t pinpoint it though.”

Tetsurou huffs but lets it go for now and takes the lead. “Leave that to me.”

He leads them further down the street, pausing for a moment before taking a right turn. It’s a dead end with residential buildings. The street is empty of any people, though the murmuring of the crowds reaches them. Outside the homes are a few beautifully potted plants, adding to the pleasing appearance of the area- but that wasn’t what they focused on.

Lingering by one of the windows, beside an unlit lantern like a runaway flame, is a soul.

It’s a pale light, small enough to fit in one hand, and it doesn’t have a defined shape- it grows fainter the further it spread out from the solid core of light at its centre. The soul drifts, orbiting around the lantern and the front of the house.

“Clear?”

Kei pushes out a sliver of his magic, scanning the area before following it with a visual scan. “Clear.”

Tetsurou approaches the soul and, when it drifts within his reach, scoops it up with his hand. He brings it close to his chest, covering it with his other hand and closes his eyes.

Kei keeps an eye on their surroundings as a burst of sunlight, there and gone, flows over his senses. When Tetsurou joins him, he’s holding what looks like a milky-white glass marble carefully in his hand. It’s only when Kei throws out a quick scan and it echos back at him, the undiluted feeling of life surrounded by a sliver of Tetsurou’s magic, that he knows it’s not an ordinary marble.

“One down, who knows how many to go,” Tetsurou remarks as he delicately hands the marble over. Kei takes it just as carefully, slipping it into his pocket and keeping a hand on it.

They go back to the bigger street, filled with the chatter of people and the sound of cars, and Tetsurou stops for a moment before he leads them across the street, stopping at an intersection with a red light. Kei takes the moment to scan the area again.

Beyond the static that is Tetsurou, and another Demon in the area, he only gets a vague sense of the nearest drifting soul- its bright white spark a dim gleam to him.

The crossing light turns green and he follows Tetsurou across the street.

“There’s not much,” Tetsurou whispers to him as they walk by a group of teenagers. “I’m only sensing a few, though there might be more outside of my range.”

“How far apart are they?” he asks, not looking forward to a whole day of aimless walking.

Tetsurou shrugs, motioning vaguely to the left with his hand before pointing straight ahead. “There’s one over there and one straight ahead. The one to the left feels closer so let’s get that one first.”

“Mhm.” Kei nods, stepping out of the way of a person with large shopping bags. The two of them change their route with Tetsurou leading the way, but not in silence as he had hoped.

“You don’t have much in your room,” Tetsurou starts and he quietly groans, flicking his eyes up and giving a momentary prayer. Tetsurou continues nonetheless, asking, “What do you do on your downtime?”

“I read.”

“...That’s it? Really? No exploring, games, friends to hang out with?”

“No.”

Tetsurou looks downright bewildered before he narrows his eyes at him. “You’re joking right.”

“No.”

They come to a stop at another intersection, this one much busier than the previous one, and Tetsurou takes the opportunity to spin around and shake a finger in his face. “We need to change that as soon as possible- actually let’s do that right now.”

“I have better things to do than slack off,” Kei huffs as the light turns green and he walks past him. There’s a couple of people crossing from the other side and he makes sure to put some distance between them. “Like finding souls, did you already forget?”

“Noo.” Tetsurou easily keeps up with his pace, rattling off activities. “We could stop by one of the parks? Shopping? Visit the beach? Movies?”

“Doing my job,” Kei blandly replies.

Tetsurou says something in response, but his words are drowned out by the screeching of brakes and crashing metal. There’s shattering glass and screams, but Kei ignores that in favour of sensing a off-white spark of human life flicker out before blazing back into a bright white spark in his head.

Kei turns to see the mayhem at the intersection they had just crossed

The traffic has come to a complete stop, the path blocked by two cars in the middle of the intersection. A silver car had rammed into the side of a black car, caving in the driver’s side. Even if he couldn’t sense the, now drifting, soul, Kei would have known immediately it was impossible for the person to survive.

“People are calling the paramedics. Do we have time to call in one of ours?” Tetsurou asks, all of his previous goofiness and lighthearted badgering wiped away. Kei surveys the area before shaking his head.

“Won’t be worth it,” he says, “it’s a small enough incident.”

Tetsurou hums before nodding. “Alright, guess I have to be sneaky. Ready?”

Kei knows he isn’t as good as Tetsurou in sensing souls- Angels usually excel at that- but at this distance, even he can feel the lone drifting soul that had once been the driver of the black car. Within the sea of humans, whose souls seem more dim and coloured, the bright spark of it stands out vividly. While the silver car’s driver is alive, their soul still bright in it’s off-white glow, the soul of the passenger in the black car is fading- the human in danger of dying.

There’s a distant wail of sirens.

“Go,” Kei murmurs. Without a word and no wasted movement, Tetsurou walks forward, straight into the crash. The whisper of feathers follow him and with every step, the feeling of sunlight blankets him- a veil of magic settling around him.

The eyes of the crowd that has gathered pass right over Tetsurou as he steps over glass and shredded metal. He crouches by the wrecked silver door, taking in the unconscious bodies, and reaches a hand towards the driver. Focusing on the soul, he easily coaxes it out, gently grabbing it in his hand before he pulls back. When he opens his hand again, a white marble is resting on his palm.

Tetsurou is moving to stand when a nearby soul sputters, blinking out before flaring bright again. It’s followed by the sound of sirens and police arriving on the scene. The passenger had just died and Tetsurou quickly reaches for their soul.

The police are starting to clear the area and Kei curses when he see the soul as it’s pulled out- it’s a misty blob, dispersed and thin. The soul is damaged- the human had been traumatized from the crash before dying.

One of the police officers is heading towards where Tetsurou is and Kei steps in. With a twitch of his finger and a crackle of electricity in his head, he calls out, “Excuse me?”

The officer turns, his eyes running over Tetsurou without seeing him.

Tetsurou is still crouched by the car, muttering something under his breath and slowly, painfully slowly, the misty soul condenses again, drawing back into its core and burning solid. He scoops up the soul as he gets out of there, rolling his magic over it.

Kei twitches his finger again, eyes focused on the officer and only catching sight of Tetsurou leaving the scene from the corner of his eye. “Sorry, it’s nothing.”

As if he had never been called, the officer turns back to the wreckage and continues his duty. Tetsurou’s hand gently presses against his and Kei feels the two marbles gingerly dropped into his hand. He turns and the two of them walk away.

Tetsurou throws one last glance back. “I hope they have a better life next time,” he says softly.

“Yeah,” Kei murmurs.

The three souls in his pocket blaze bright with life and he curls his hand around them.

They push through the crowd of people watching the crash, slipping through easily. Tetsurou leads them back towards their original destination and the sounds of the murmuring people and police fade, bleeding back into normal crowd chatter and passing cars.

[mostfacinorous]

FIRST LINES MEME

Tagged by @veliseraptor to share the first lines from my ten most recent fics!

(I am going by most recently updated.)  1. Little Talks co-written with @portraitoftheoddity​      The rush of stepping between worlds never got old, and the adrenaline that came along with it powered Loki through any nerves that might otherwise have manifested on his way into the lower branches of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s headquarters. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, the place only ever glimpsed through the eyes of others and accessible to him only through memories of memories. But it seemed to him that the more secret, the deeper these mortals were likely to bury it. And so he made his way, as silently and innocuously as possibly, further down the spiraling labyrinth of heavy doors and sidestepped scanners. Until he got stuck.

2. Let’s Talk Shop      “Ever since the merger, the guy’s been grating on my last nerve. But I can’t fire him; he’s one of our strongest performers, and we inherited his five year contract.” Nick sounded resigned, but still angry. “What does he do that’s so grating?” Steve asked. He’d interacted with Loki, and found him… polite, if cold. And maybe a little full of himself. But none of that seemed to be worth the level of complaints Steve had been getting about him. “He’s disdainful, he’s proud, he tries to take control of any project I put him on, he doesn’t know how to work with anyone-- hell, I put him on his own brother’s team, hoping that Thor would help dislodge the stick up his ass--” Steve lifted an eyebrow and glared, and Nick had the good grace to look a little embarrassed. “Sorry. Figure of speech.” “Or the start of a workplace harassment suit, if he feels like his job might be at risk.”

3. Give Up the Ghost      He wasn’t lonely. He didn’t get lonely. He’d developed an immunity to that a long time ago. He was alone, certainly, but that was fine. It meant he could be left to his own devices, left to his notes and trials of various new uses for old magics, new ways of bending his power, new shapes to bend it into. He may not have been a fighter, but he more than made up for it with his abilities. It was just a matter of honing them. And that was what he was doing, the first time he created it. Called it. Summoned it.

4. Second Chances; New Beginnings      “Things get bad for a while. Then you folks start popping up, we figure out who you are, toss you together, and things get good again. Until you die.” Fury was looking out at them over his steepled fingers. “Seems like a pretty raw deal for us, though, doesn’t it? I mean-- my life’s kind of on a track right now.” The guy who spoke, Tony, was slouching low in his chair, arms crossed, sunglasses perched on top of his fashionably dishevelled hair. “Problem with that is, you talk like you think you have a choice. You think I’m offering this to you? Hell, if I got to choose, I wouldn’t pick a bunch of kids for starters. Wouldn’t decide to bestow powers on those three-- they look like they each wish they could claim a corner to stand in. And I sure as hell wouldn’t choose some entitled little shit to protect Earth, but here we are. You’re Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Congratulations.” Fury stood, looking around at what he had to work with. He didn’t seem overly impressed.

5. There’s a Spark      Loki'd been on Earth for a couple of years, now. Or at least, he'd been regularly causing havoc on Earth-- usually in New York-- for that long. That wasn't the same thing, necessarily, Steve realized. Not when even Asgard couldn't lock him up or shut down his abilities to travel. It'd been odd though, the way things had sort of tapered off on his end. He hadn't killed anyone in over a year. Hadn't made any grand demonstrations of power, forced people to kneel or sing his praises-- less ego mania, less appearances overall. Heck, the last time they'd seen him, he'd shown up in the Avengers' living room with a box of kittens. Mind you, those had all been high level mob bosses before they were kittens, but the point remained. The guy wasn't exactly pulling big schemes these days.

6. Thin White Lines      “What is this, Thor?” Steve's voice broke through the hubbub from his other teammates when Thor appeared, his brother in tow. He was on a lead-- and the image didn't sit particularly well with Steve, but neither did the one of Loki running amok and potentially destroying New York. Again. “Asgard's laws of recompense.” Thor spoke with an almost hesitant gravity. “Which are what?” Natasha asked, words somewhere between sharp and drawled. Steve shot her a grateful look; she, unlike Tony and Clint and Bruce, seemed to be in the game and not just reacting. Not that he could blame them, but it was nice to have a solid voice of reason standing next to him. “Loki's crimes against Midgard are great enough to warrant his death. The laws of recompense allow him to do what he can to reverse his damage and lighten his sentence accordingly. He will, of course, be punished for the lives he took, the damage which is irreversible, but for the rest--” Thor broke off, looking hopeful. “If you will allow it, we may save my brother. My friends, I would not ask this of you if I had another choice.”

7. I Know No I      It wasn't as though he was innocent in all of this. It wasn't as though the damages done to his body, mind, and powers made him somehow magically absolved of his guilts and wrong doings. All it did was make at least one of his brother's friends less likely to pulverize him at the first glimpse. When he'd woken in the vibrant light and starch whiteness of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Hospital room, he thought he was in some new level of hell. There were tubes in his arms, wrapped to his fingers, and so much of him was encased in such heavy material that he thought, for a moment, that his captors put too much faith in old wives' tales about the powers of iron to bind magic. Until he realized that they were cloth, and even being so slight a substance, they were too heavy for him to lift. Only then did the panic fully settle into his chest, and the monitors at his side began shrieking their shrill mechanical chimes. He knew where such technology resided, and immediately knew where he was and why he was there. He was on Midgard. And he was weak and broken, devoid of his immortal strength, and so filled with a distant dull pain and so dull of wit that he knew he must be under some sort of sedation. He was mortal, and most likely abandoned here by Odin's decree. After all, mortals do not belong in Asgard. They have people here to tend for their sick, their invalids. Everyone knew Odin’s stance on his son’s intended. He assumed as much was true for his false son, as well.

8. What a Lovely Day      Humans were incredible things. They always had been. Exposed to pain constantly for long enough, they could become used to it, accepting of it, to the point where they forgot what it was like to not be in pain. The same could be said of the hum and the vibrations of the bike beneath him. He knew that once, back when he’d first stumbled across this old Indian, it had seemed too loud, too rough. Now, though, he forgot about it, forgot that he’d known no noise other than it and the occasional crunch of his own footsteps over the crust of the dirt. Forgot that, once, he had been able to get from one place to the next within a single afternoon, on real roads, even gravel roads, that didn’t kick up dust and coat his throat. He deserved the discomfort though, because of what he couldn’t forget. Because he knew that he was responsible for this. Humans were incredible things. But even with as modified as he was, as strong as the good doctor and Stark could make him, there were a few pains that he could never quite come to terms with. Not the physical ones. But the Misery. The guilt. He was meant to save people, to inspire hope. Once, he had tried to let himself be that. Tried to give himself that, to make it his mission… now he stayed as far from people as possible. The hope in their eyes felt like knives, and not seeing it there felt like failure.So he was left with himself, his thoughts, his guilt, and the rattle of his bike. And this wretched heat that made his back stick to the back of his own shirt. He wasn’t driving aimlessly, though. There had to be one person who didn’t see him as the statue without a pedestal. He had to have survived. That was what Bucky did, was survive. He’d lived through ice, and years, electricity being poured into his brain. Lived through abuse and assignments and assassinations... surely he lived through some sand, some heat. He was out there, somewhere, wandering the great waste, and every gleaming light on the horizon made Steve’s mouth firm a bit. He hunkered down against the bike, tucking his face behind his shield, which he’d mounted at the front-- no longer bright colors, now just a dust collector, stripped of all its grandeur. Like the Earth. Like him.

9. Wish Upon A Star      “It is heavy and uncomfortable.” He wasn’t complaining. He was just… stating the obvious. Even as he pushed a finger between the strap on his neck and his skin, trying to adjust the helmet so that it did not drag so. He had to raise his voice to be heard, had to lean forward and angle his head so that his mouth was close enough to the man before him to be audible over the drone of the engine and the roaring of the wind around them. “You trying to tell me that two feet of metal horns is lighter than a faceless motorcycle helmet?” There was no mistaking the amusement in his companion’s voice, and Loki scowled and crossed his arms, tightening the grip he had on the other man with his knees and thighs. Horses, he’d been told, were out of style on Midgard.He wasn’t certain that he liked this better. In fact, he was fairly certain that he didn’t like this very much at all.

10. What Would  I Give      At Bucky's funeral, Steve stood stock still, certain that if he moved, if he turned, if he so much as reached a hand up to brush away the tears that were still falling, he would shake apart. He'd always known Bucky would die being a hero, but he'd always figured they'd go together-- it would be because of something he did. The lack of guilt when that turned out not to be the case didn't make anything easier, though.There was no casket, because there was nothing to bury. Bucky had been lost at sea. He'd tried begging him to enlist in the reserves, or the army, or the air force. Steve had spent his entire life afraid of the sea, and if he hadn't already been weak and sickly and unable to enlist because of it, he still wouldn't have been able to follow his friend. At the time, he'd wondered if maybe that wasn't the point. But on his leaves, it became obvious that Bucky legitimately loved the ocean, loved being out on it and all the workings of the ships he served on. Steve felt happy for him, glad that his friend was doing what he loved. But he missed him, too. He'd only been out for eight months when the letter came in. There had been a man overboard, and Bucky went after him. Neither of them were recovered, and at the time of the writing, the other man had not been identified. Maybe a stowaway or the survivor of some other ship's misfortune, but not one of their own. How like Bucky, didn't matter who it was, if he was around, he felt like it was his job to save them.

[tails89]

Chapter 14 is finally up

Stoick led the way to Hiccup’s room.

He’d left Astrid alone in the waiting area to see if his son was awake. He’d returned soon after checking that Hiccup wanted the company and she’d had to quickly scrub away the tears that had managed to escape before she got herself under control.

Stoick paused by the door.

“I’m going to get something to eat,” he told the girl. “You’ll stay here ‘til I return?”

Astrid nodded and stepped over the threshold.

The room was bathed in orange light from the setting sun outside the window, but the harsh white of the lamp above the bed washed out all of Hiccup’s features.

His eyes were closed. There was a bruise above his left eye and scrapes down the side of his face. The tubing of his nasal cannula snaked over Hiccup’s cheeks and tucked behind his ears. He looked so pale and small, in his light blue hospital gown. The sheets were tucked in around his waist with his hands resting on top.

The poles beside the bed held a mass of IV bags, the tubing was taped to Hiccup’s arms, delivering the different medications he needed.

Astrid let her eyes drift further down towards Hiccups feet. Foot. It was obvious to look at, even with the blanket’s covering his legs. The left one just stopped mid-shin.

Her eyes stung and her vision blurred. Astrid took a deep, steadying breath.

Hiccup stirred, moaning softly as he surfaced from sleep.

Astrid took a seat on the chair beside the bed. She took his hand gingerly, afraid of jarring the tubes running into the back of his hand.

Bleary eyes opened.

“Hey,” Astrid whispered, she gave Hiccup’s fingers a gentle squeeze. His gaze fell on her and his eyes slowly focused. Recognition lit his face.

“’strid?” His brows knit together in confusion. “Where?”

“You’re in hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

Hiccup shook his head, groaning at the movement. His left hand rose slowly to tug at the plastic under his nose. Astrid took his hand and placed it back down on the bed.

“You should leave that,” she told him.

He blinked owlishly and his eyes drifted shut.

Astrid spun in her chair at the soft tap of footsteps behind her.

“Don’t worry,” it was a nurse. “Just a routine check-up.” She bustled around to the other side of the bed. Recognising Astrid, she said, “You were the one sitting out in the waiting room all afternoon.”

Astrid nodded, hoping she wasn’t about to get kicked out.

“Uh, Stoick asked me to watch him while he got something to eat.” She caught a glimpse of the nurse’s name tag. It read Lucy.

“I’m glad he finally left the room,” Lucy confided in the young woman. “He needs to take care of himself for Henry’s sake.” She pressed a button on one of the machines beside the bed, then checked the IV bags. Hiccup was stirring again but didn’t quite surface.

“He’ll be in and out for a bit yet.” Lucy straightened the sheets. “Over the next few hours he’ll become more alert, but don’t be concerned if he doesn’t remember this.”

Astrid watched as the nurse went through her routine. She had to ask. “His leg-“

“How much did Mr Haddock tell you?”

“Not much, just that… they had to amputate.” Astrid’s gaze drifted down again.

A shadow fell across the bed. Stoick had returned.

Lucy looked to him for permission. He gave it.

“Henry’s leg was badly injured. The tibia was badly broken and he had third degree burns to his leg and foot,” she explained. “Infection set in and he had no blood circulation to the foot. He had surgery this morning to see if any of the damage could be repaired, but- the surgeons had to amputate.” Lucy had finished her examination.

“The doctors say he’ll be fitted for a prosthetic once he’s up and about,” Stoick came over and sat carefully on the edge of the bed. He rested his hand on his son’s right foot.

“It won’t be easy,” Lucy pulled a pen from her pocket, jotting down some notes on Hiccup’s chart.

“Hiccup has never done anything the easy way.” Stoick chuckled. It felt out of place in the room, but Astrid figured if Stoick could laugh, it must mean that Hiccup would be alright.

()

“Good morning M’lady.”

A scratchy voice drew Astrid’s attention back to the bed. She smiled. “It’s almost eight pm.” She’d been sitting in the small room with Stoick for almost three hours.

They had sat together in silence at first, and then Stoick had started telling her stories of Hiccup’s childhood. Astrid found it hard to connect the father in front of her with the father Hiccup had complained about at work.

In front of her was a father who loved his son, who wanted the best for him, but who was perhaps a little misguided in his attempts to show it.

It made Astrid think of her own parents and the little annoying things they did. She knew they only meant the best for her and in that moment she missed them. When had she called them last? Astrid couldn’t remember.

While they were talking, Hiccup had woken a few times. His bleary eyes had landed on Astrid a couple of times and he’d frowned in confusion before sleep pulled him back under.

“What-” He shifted his head, catching sight of the infusion pump and the monitor by the bed. He lifted his hand, and stared at it groggily, struggling to put the pieces together. “H-hospital?”

Both Astrid and Stoick were leaning forward on their chairs.

“You gave me quite the scare son.” Stoick reached out to grab Hiccup’s hand, preventing the younger Haddock from scratching at the tape holding the IV in place.

The boy scrunched his face up, trying to remember what happened.

“I don’t-“ His gaze shifted to Astrid. “…remember.” He scratched at the thing irritating his nose. More plastic. “What happened?”

“I-uh,” Astrid glanced at Stoick. “There was a fire. At the aquarium.” She waited

“Toothless? Is he okay?” Hiccup’s eyes were wide as he looked from his father to Astrid.

“Toothless is okay,” Astrid tried to reassure him. “Everyone is okay.”

“You need to take it easy,” Stoick soothed. “The nurses said it might take a while for you to remember everything.”

Hiccup tried to push himself up, grimacing at the movement. He groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Stoick was already reaching for the nurse call button. “Are you in pain son?”

Hiccup nodded, his teeth clenched against the agony. “My leg,” he managed to gasp out. “Oh Gods, it hurts so bad.” He managed to get into a sitting position, reaching forward to clutch at his knee.

“Hiccup, wait.”

Clawed fingers edged down towards the source of the pain. Hiccup could feel the swell of bandages beneath the blankets. His foot was on fire! He could feel it burning.

Stoick grabbed his hands to stop their journey down the limb. Astrid watched on in shock.

“Let go of me,” Hiccup yelled at his father. “Gods, it hurts. It hurts!” Hands scrabbled against the blankets, ripping them off. He stared at his legs, shoulders shaking.

“No.” he fingered the bandages on his leg. “I don’t- I can feel it.”

Lucy ran in, having heard the yelling. She made her way over to the bed, pressing another button on the wall. “Henry, you need to calm down.” She rubbed soothing circles on his back. “We’ll get you something for the pain.”

Another nurse came in.

Astrid stepped back to allow them access to the bed. She edged up against the wall.

“I don’t understand.” Hiccup was hyperventilating. “I can feel it.” He groaned. “It’s burning!”

Something was injected into his IV port and slowly he settled down onto the bed, the sedative was designed to relax rather than put Hiccup to sleep. Lucy informed Stoick that the doctor was on the way. He caught sight of Astrid standing up the back of the room.

“Astrid, can you give us a moment?”

“I, uh, sure.” Astrid backed out of the room.

()

Astrid wandered away from the room following the signs to the cafeteria. What was she doing here? Hiccup was in the most vulnerable position a person could be in. Injured, confused, trying to process what was going on and here Astrid was, thinking she belonged because she had kissed him a couple of times.

He was going to be okay. Maybe it would be best for her to go back to Berk or at least go find a hotel for the night. Astrid didn’t feel up to the long drive home.

She turned abruptly as she reached the café, heading instead for the exit. She’d find somewhere to spend the night and head back to Berk in the morning.

Reaching her car, she climbed inside and retrieved her phone from her bag to find a hostel. With just a few clicks she had somewhere to stay for the night.

Astrid started her car and drove away.

()

When Astrid woke, there was a text message on her phone.

Hey, its Hiccup. Can we talk?

Astrid didn’t recognise the number. She figured Hiccup had borrowed his Dad’s phone. Quickly she showered and changed, checked out of the hostel and headed back to the hospital.

She walked through the long corridor slowly, second guessing her decision to visit. She could have just called Hiccup after reading the text. Astrid found the room easily, pausing at the threshold to peek inside.

The head of the bed was raised. Hiccup was reclining against it with his eyes closed in a half doze. They sprung open when he heard the tentative knock on the door.

He smiled when he realised it was Astrid. Waving a lethargic arm inviting her in. He was alone in the room.

“Hey.” Astrid sat by the bed.

“Hey.” Hiccup awkwardly rearranged his blankets. “Thanks for, uh, coming.”

“How are you feeling?” He looked… better. He was awake so that was a definite improvement but he was still so pale. His freckles stood out in stark relief against his skin.

Hiccup shrugged, scratching lazily at a piece of tape on his hand. “Tired, but… okay, I guess.”

“How’s your… leg?”

Hiccup glanced down towards his legs. He took a steadying breath then pulled the sheets aside. His skinny legs stuck out from under the hospital gown. Astrid made a mental note to ask Stoick about pyjamas.

“I-I keep thinking that next time I look…” he trailed off. “But, it’s not there. It’s gone.”

“I’m sorry Hiccup.” Astrid covered Hiccup’s hand with her own.

“Why?” Hiccup turned his hand over so that he could hold Astrid’s lightly. He gave her a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not your fault.” His expression turned sour. “I was the one who had to go and anger one of the most dangerous men in Berk. If I’d just kept my mouth shut.”

“You think Drago did it?” Astrid was frowning too.

“I doubt Drago would dirty his hands over something like this,” Hiccup scowled. “But I think I recognised one of his men.”

“You remember what happened?”

“It’s coming back to me.” Hiccup pulled the sheets back over his legs.

There was no traffic at this time of night. The wind felt good on his bare arms. Hiccup squinted into the distance. There was something coming towards him. A car. Black with no headlights speeding in the opposite direction. Hiccup frowned and slowed down but the car sped past without incident. Hiccup slowed further and pulled to the side of the road. There was an odd smell to the air. A jarring mix of saltwater and smoke. But there was nothing out here. Just the aquarium.

Hiccup put his bike in gear, pulling back onto the road. He raced towards the aquarium.

The side gate was flung open, Hiccup didn’t even get off his bike, riding it straight up the path. The clinic was alight. Hiccup dropped his motorbike and ran. There were cries from the animals in their pens as they panicked. Smoke was beginning to clog the air.

The place was a mess. Windows smashed. Shelves overturned. Who had done this? Hiccup didn’t have time to wonder.

He cursed, remembering he still hadn’t replaced his mobile phone. Pausing, he turned towards the smaller building. There was a phone in the office.

Hiccup ran, pulling the neck of his shirt up over his nose and mouth against the choking smell of smoke that was filling the building. He grabbed the received on the desk.

“Come on, come on, come on.” There was a dial tone. He punched the numbers in.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Fire.” Hiccup coughed. “Aquarium. Hurry.”

There was a loud thud from outside. Hiccup spun on his feet. The office door had swung shut. He dropped the phone, ignoring the tinny demands for more information.

A glance out the window showed a stack of shelves pushed up against the door. How? Was someone else still here?

Hiccup shoved his shoulder against the door. It didn’t budge. The shelving on the other side had wedged it completely shut.

He considered his options. There weren’t many. Smoke was pouring into the small room under the door to the clinic.

Using the basic fire safety skills from primary school, Hiccup went to the clinic door and gingerly pressed the back of his hand to the handle, tearing it away when the metal burned his skin.

“Okay, not that way.” His shirt wasn’t doing much to keep the smoke at bay. Hiccup let the material settle back on his chest. Searching the room, Hiccup’s gaze landed on the large windows that faced out towards the pools.

Moving quickly, Hiccup went to the desk. He picked up the chair that sat there and threw it against the glass. There was a resounding crash as the window exploded outwards. Hiccup lunged for the empty pane, gagging at the smell of the smoke. His lungs were burning. He had to get out.

A shadow appeared at the window. A figure he recognised. Hiccup frowned, blinking against the stinging of his eyes. Something swung out. Hiccup ducked too late.

Pain exploded from his temple. Dizzy, he stumbled back, hitting the wall and sliding to the ground. The roof was groaning as the fire spread.

Blind from the smoke, Hiccup crawled forward.

The building was shaking. An earthquake? No, Berk didn’t get earthquakes. The sound of thunder. The sky was falling. Hiccup felt the snap as something large and unbearably heavy landed on his legs. He screamed out at the pain, his arms collapsing beneath him. He fell to his stomach.

Twisting, Hiccup tried to pull himself free. White starbursts of pain danced across his vision. He was trapped. The wall had caved in, catching his legs. It was burning, the fire licking up his legs.

Hiccup dragged in another lungful of smoke. Coughing and choking. His vision was dimming around the edges. He struggled to focus.

He was numb. The fire a distant sensation. His lungs weren’t cooperating. He couldn’t catch his breath.

His eyes drifted shut.

More Writing

[busaned-blog]

dude your tags on tht post abt hobi+jin not having any lines (+ the discrepancy in ppl's reaction to those awful distributions) is WHEW coldblooded but accurate. ive also seen it happen, ppl leaving bc they can't GET WORK in their own group, and beyond hating awful distributions for wht they are, theyre bad for group longevity esp w/jin whos getting his college degree, who i cld see walking away frm bts w/work+network options even outside of ent. industry. like, bight cherish wht u got rn, dang

Hello anon, thank you so much for your message! It’s nice to know some people actually read my tags I guess haha. I’m not gonna lie, at first when I read your message I was thinking of not replying… simply because we all know tumblr tags are messed up (especially on mobile) and I did not feel like people interpreting my response as hate towards Bangtan or to any of the members. But then I realized that for me in my heart I know my feelings about this whole situation are not based on hate towards either of those so I decided to respond anyways and I just hope that I will word everything correctly so that people reallize I am not a hater. It will be a long response, because as I said in my tags I have a lot of feelings about this, so I’m putting it under a read more :)

When I reblogged that post we’re talking about and put all those tags in, I was extremely angry. I can’t lie about that right now, because I was. Maybe it’s a petty response, but in a song that is 4 minutes and 34 seconds long you just cannot convince me there was no room for Hobi at all. That there was no room for him to get like four lines on his own or for Jin to have more than the two he did? Especially when some members take up like half the song? I just refuse to believe that I’m sorry… And especially to realize, if you look objectively, that the difference in ‘talent’, to put it as such, in Bangtan is not that big let’s be real. They are all extremely talented and no one is 1000 steps above the rest at all in my opinion.

I’ve been a fan since about July 2015, a little after the Dope era, so I have been around for four comebacks now (and a hell of a lot of other groups’ members leaving/groups disbanding) and I’ve said this before on twitter: I feel like the line distribution is getting worse in stead of better with Bangtan. Run was sort of okay for me, especially if you keep in mind the idea of main/lead vocals and sub-vocals, but after that it just got worse and worse imo. And apparently, judging by the response to Hobi having no lines in Spring Day and Jin having barely any solo lines in BST, people really don’t give a shit and want to disguise it under the ‘I love ot7 so let me reblog some posts complaining about the awful line distribution and be done with it’.

The outrage on my dash with the Hobi situation was pitiful, because (and maybe I follow the wrong people who knows) the only ones actually being mad were Hobi stans and some Jin/ot7 stans. The outrage for Jin was basically non existent and it still pisses me off till this day. And the biggest discourse was that people needed to just basically shut up and support Bangtan because otherwise, and wow guilt tripping much?, they would hurt Hobi in the process too. And I get that we all have our favorites, we all have our ranking of the members whatever, but how can you look at this situation and just not realize how damaging it could be in the long run? How damaging it could be for ot7. You don’t have to love and cry and yell about Hobi and Jin as much as you do your bias, but to stay mostly silent cause it doesn’t concern your fave? I just can’t relate…

I’m a Jimin stan, but that means to me I am realistic enough to realize I have nothing to worry about with him. That he will get his lines and his screentime and the attention from his fans. So why should I be blind towards the mistreatment of some of the others? Because I’m settled? Because Jimin is my bias so I have no worries? And I’m not trying to say people who don’t stan Hobi or Jin feel like this, but this is really how it comes across to me. And then everyone, and this annoys me the most, wants to hide behind one of two defenses, a) Bangtan love each other more than anything and they want to stay together forever so awul line distribution won’t break them up and b) Bangtan have a lot of creative control so they probably decided this was best for the song…

Which is funny, because in the same breath they want to oppose haters, which they should don’t get me wrong, by saying ‘don’t hate on *insert their bias here* because it’s not their fault, Big Hit makes the decisions not them’. Excuse me? But that is not how this works. You can’t want to claim they have full creative control and make the decisions themselves and then turn around and say it’s actually Big Hit. It’s either they make the decisions themselves and they are basically assholes for ignoring Hobi, and more specifically Jin in like every song, or they are all subjected to what Big Hit wants.

But to come to the actual point: whether people want to close their eyes to this situation or not, in the end this could be damaging for Bangtan. Do you really think Minzy from 2ne1 didn’t love her group and her members? Do you really believe that guy from Teen Top that wants to leave doesn’t love his group and his members? Do you really believe that someone like Minzy, to take her as an example, who was in one of the biggest girl groups in kpop, just casually decided to leave? Do you not think that she didn’t realize that if she left she will probably never have the income she had with 2ne1 again or that she most likely will never ever be as popular as she was when in the group? Yet she freaking decided to leave anyways, because as you said she got no work! And ofcourse she wanted some, even if that meant not living the live she did with 2ne1, but it would be at least some sort of a life. And this happens to idols all the time, and then they, shocking I know, leave… Awful line distribution, and awful equal promotion, will be the death of any group no matter how much they love each other and the fans or how successful they are.

And I just wish as a fandom we could collectively come together on these subjects a bit more. You don’t have to be a Hobi or Jin stan to be critical of Bangtan’s efforts and in this case their line distribution. And there is also nothing wrong with being a critical fan and trying to let them and Big Hit know that no fan is going to leave if they make everything a little bit more fair. I just don’t want it to come to Bangtan’s contract renewals in a few years and having one or two of them even contemplating leaving. As you said, Jin is graduating soon and many people in the industry have already said that he is a lovely person, easy to work with, funny, clever, hard working and on top of that a lot more multi-talented then people want to give him credit for. You really believe he has no chance of a career outside of Bangtan?

Let me say something positive though for once. If we move beyond the line distribution and take a look at the promo, Big Hit gives me a little bit of hope. 2016 has been a rather good year for all of them in my opinion. Yoongi had his mixtape, Jin had Law of the Jungle and some other variety shows, Tae had his acting, the Taejin OST (where they both proved even more that Bangtan’s line distribution is shit), some MC jobs for all of them on music shows, etc. I think that if you would write it down then their promotion seems to definitely be sort of equal, which gives me great hope that Big Hit will at least always try to promote them equally in that area. But it also seems to me they want them stuck in certain positions: Hobi being the dancer, Jin being the visual, Jungkook being the main vocalist etc. When they are so much more then that!

So what I’m trying to say is that I’m not trying to convince anyone that Hobi or Jin are going to want to leave over this whole thing, but please can we all for once as a fandom acknowledge Bangtan’s shortcomings and realize that if nothing changes (because this is not a one time thing with them), and if we don’t try to voice our concerns, it could come to a Minzy situation (or any other group member that has ever left their group due to disrespect basically). I just don’t want them in the future to break up or have some members leaving, and then have everyone cry their eyes out for a day when we could have done something about it now…

This became so much longer then I wanted to, and I probably didn’t even say everything I wanted to say, so I’m really sorry. And I mostly ranted about nothing you were talking about in your ask, but I needed to get this all of my chest. I always say this and I will say it again: I love Bangtan with all my heart, and I don’t plan on abandoning them anytime soon, but these comebacks just slowly become a little less enjoyable and I will keep hoping that next time will be better. That next time I won’t have to sit through the music video waiting for a glimpse of Hobi or Jin or anyone. I just want Bangtan to reach their full potential, because I really feel they haven’t yet, because I think they are 7 wonderful individuals who deserve nothing less.

[twinflameshardcore]

Reclaiming mine, and ours in the New Year

First of all, Happy New Year to all my readers! I hope you had a proper ‘shift’ from the old 9-cycle into the new, and yes I know, it didn’t feel nice on the last day of 2016, but we’ve made it! The New Year’s Day felt fantastic to me, I had a long walk in a forest, streets were empty, people were sleeping or healing their hangover so I had the entire land for myself. And it was so quiet around! Traffic noise is what steals our power, through disturbing own concentration. I exchanged ‘good morning’ with 2 strangers in the forest (not a popular custom where I live, but I was full of new positive energy, and I thought I’d give them some of it through a vibration of my voice). I also sensed that I was making and leaving ‘fiery steps’, like marks on the ground :)

Like I previously shared glimpses of things to come, they are coming this year, a step by step. This means we’ll be reclaiming our freedom, our relationships, unions, detaching from criticism, judgment, perfection, other people, things we ‘should’, pleasing others etc. We will want, and we be doing what we want. This will be achieved thanks to a healthier ego, purged from its old damage and programming, then in connection with our anchored higher self. If you did your purge (mostly your soul had handled it during the last few years, you were only asked to stop interfering ;)) you will feel it strongly, a new power/understanding inside your being. Some of us were born connected to own higher selves so we can already call ourselves ‘Masters’, especially when we survived the last few years of bad energy’s influence which was trying to redirect us onto the wrong path.

Once we have had our emotional body cleared, it is being followed by the mind’s clean up (wrong teachings we’ve learnt so far, read about, memorized etc.). These will help us recover our primal courage and inner freedom to face that what keeps us stagnant, fearful, bored, then to go for what we want, based on the heart’s needs. This of course may have a different impact on people who have already lived for themselves only, but now they may find out that they are pleased by sharing with others, rather than doing/keeping for themselves.

Reclaiming what’s yours may manifest through various forms and energies. When you’re dependent (on your family, parents, spouse, children etc), you may feel that that you no more want to allow them control your life by emotional blackmail, criticizing you, or showing what’s better and what you should do instead of what you enjoy doing. It’s an emotional, energetic thievery which doesn’t allow you to become and authentic You. You will get a very powerful sense of who you are (not a role model based on your job profession or negative thinking, but an authentic You based on what You like about yourself), and things you want to do, things you always wanted but had no courage or were blocked for a reason, or due to negative energies around you. You will feel you want to make a move, reinvent yourself, yet avoid drastic, desperate actions. We’ve got an ally - the higher self, which feels like a solid, unmistakable support somewhere in the core of my body.

Now, if you create, craft, paint, write, illustrate, sing, make music - do anything artistic manually or mentally, but you have kept these in a drawer/ on a hard drive accessible for yourself, friends or family only, or if you’ve unsuccessfully tried to get some recognition for unique things you do (those from the heart, not pure logic or demand), then this year will feel like the door opens to finally let you in, because you’re wanted, desired, paid etc. Use this energy, dust off your works, tune in your in-born talents and don’t be afraid to charge a fee to sell, or teach how-to. Obviously, you need to show samples of your work on-line & tag them properly for search engines, but your vibration may also help,angelic being are amongst us, I’m one of them and other angelic have been attracted to me, and paid me for professional work I do :) You have unique skills and these will be matched with awakened people coming to you, since their perception and needs will change properly. Those folks no longer want to consume things they used to have everywhere around, no more mainstream and pop culture but a need for experiencing the new, the non-popular, the ‘underground’ art, either by sensing, hearing, watching, touching etc.

I had some crazy experiences in December 2016. One night I woke up and I heard a voice as if in my head but coming as if from below of my bed, from an underground. It said ‘You’re a part of me’. I asked in spirit ‘Who’s speaking’? And there was an instant answer from my higher self: ‘Gaia’. I never paid attention to all that story about Mother Earth, Gaia, you name it. Eventhough I’m a gardener thus working with soil and plants is my passion, I never gave it a further thought that the planet may have any consciousness or is a living being below what is seen, below the soil, sand or and rock. But I had the same attitude to Awakening before I had started experiencing more of this then believed ;)

Then the other night I just fell asleep feeling very heavy in the belly/hip areas when something woke me up so I was angry and focused my mind as usually, to ‘burn’ that interference (ie. if there were any negative beings around me) to let me sleep. In this moment I felt like a huge ball of energy blown out from the right side of my belly/over the hip and consumed the right side of my body up to the middle of the ear. I really freaked out! I’ve never felt anything like this in all my so far life. It appeared without pain or other physical symptoms and it wasn’t gas in the guts either. It lasted around 2-3 seconds but it was so weird that I felt like I wanted to hide inside of my body somehow not knowing what that energy was about. I’ve been puzzled by this since then, linking it to a creation of a new chakra, or a purge of some energetic implant I might have had in the hip/sacral chakra then to the Sephiroth system for the closest match.

I’ve had increased pitches in my ears and I keep seeing the entire spectrum of what I call ‘steps’ in terms of time stamps as seen on clocks: 12:34, 13:45, 15:46 and so on (= 1 2 3 4 5 6 7). Then :54 continues following me all the time, which may mean a maturing (9) of the right ‘side’, which would be the masculine (feminine is left). I also spot many equal numbers like 10:01, 10:10, 17:17 which is equalizing of the two energies, whether between us or in individual bodies.

I finally accepted that I’m the yang energy and I should have never tried to 'make’ myself more feminine. It’s enough that my look is already of a female ;) The true self-power lays in the core energy, and it’s the masculine for me. I enjoy being myself inside better, no more looking for fulfillment outside, or wanting to be somebody else. This is self-love. The entire fake image of who we should be, or how we should act to be more successful/desired/respected, fades away. I’ve also noticed then cameras cannot capture our inner light (so don’t bother if you look bad on a cam or in pictures) but mirrors can reflect it well, and so other people also can see us radiating light rather than looking tired.

We also had a few more merges with my TwinFlame (and a few more phone calls). I think it was around 12/26/2016 when I felt in complete union with him through many layers of my body, physical and spiritual. I believe it was a merge with his or our Higher Self (seems like TFs have one Higher Self which is also an amalgam of 2 individual higher selves) because I felt him totally but he-the human TF referred feeling nothing special, actually quite the opposite, he had been purging mentally lately, which is a desired timing.

When ‘purging, surrendering, and allowing’ were major themes of the last 3-4 years, then ‘going for what we want’ (individually and together) and ‘believing in own power’ may be themes of the next 9 years because many (inner and outer) blockages have been removed. Empaths felt overwhelmed by an amount of not own limitations and rules which left us idle, or complaining, but they are leaving and we’ll be feeling much more in tune with ourselves next. If we observed that others were successful in the material word and we hated an idea of turning to this and doing the same, it’s now our time to bring our gifts on the table and be wanted for such. It’s only up to own courage to make decisions based on the heart’s needs, yet the soul will create opportunities based on needs. Monitor your thoughts & desires as they manifest very quickly on the New Earth!

Until next time!

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