#when you're literally frozen dead or going out of control | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ltadoriyuujl · 7 months ago

Text

annotation time!

Sure, he doesn’t mind sweat but it’s her job to take note of wet things and he hates just how much it puts him at her mercy.

she's got him under a microscope and he's the world's most unwilling experiment sigh real romance

spitting out thirty-some balloons and a voice like high tide.

this is such a fun descriptor I'm stealing it asap

It’s gotta be on purpose, little things he knows she could fix but leave just to make him insane. A pencil with squeaky lead, the half dead hem of her uniform skirt– knocking a water glass over shared notes and leaving the paper dry but misshapen when her quirk sucks it all out again.

she's such a menace its so fun

He stares ahead and has entirely forgotten what he’s doing in the hallway besides bracing for a fist fight or doing his best to keep his head above her spicy summer perfume.

the established detail of katsuki having a journal is so real to me bc this is exactly the kinda stuff he would notice, try not to think about, and then think wayyy too hard about. anika changed her lip gloss shade today i hope she chokes on it YOU'RE OBSESSED

“You see my catch today?”

she loves to corner the market on his attention and i fear she's got him hook line and sinker

He never considered how it might feel to have the life pulled from his pores, but her quirk makes it easy and the second she shows up he starts overheating.

opposites attract but in the sense that they could easily be narrative foils

A single afternoon jump from twelve to seven should make #3 Katsuki shudder but he’d have to be brain dead to let his heart beat that fast in this heat.

there's something to be said about the strength of his self-control and how she still manages to test the limits of it

He can’t get hotter than white fire and he could never be more destructive than her, so what could possibly go wrong in a firing oven?

they enable each other they neutralize each other they match each others freak ad infinitum

back in her perfume, back caught in a trap, looking, watching the shapes her eyebrows can make when she isn’t glaring—

this is what i'm talking about HE'S A NOTICER HE SEES EVERYTHING. half the time its really to his own detriment poor guy

“Bombsquad’s here.”

this was literally so funny and so apt she knows how to defuse him but she's fascinated by the aesthetics of his explosion

She lets Mina pull her in by the shoulder while she fills a smitten Kirishima in on details from her sidekick gig and an apparently psychic new neighbor.

KIRIMINA CRUMBS RAHHHH

so much so he splashed the blond with freshly washed hands and got kicked into the fridge.

nooo izu's catching strays...

“You know,” she coos and breaks the seal on crisp frozen air, “When a puppy’s too aggressive you’re supposed to play with their paws.” “You fucking drunk?”

the fact that he didn't even throw out warning sparks here...real love

They can’t let guests in, can’t check their phones, can’t mix a decent drink or queue any good music— Why’d Mina throw this party anyway? Graduation was ages ago. Why did she need balloons twenty minutes before this was all supposed to start? Katsuki simmers beside her, resting his hips on the rounded edge of the counter.

it's all coming together....

His waist is so narrow compared to his shoulders that the hem of his shirt hangs slightly over his jeans, a black belt hugging milk skin in Mina’s obnoxious colored strip lights.

hes so sharp and triangular in every possible way i'm crying

“Not starving like a dog you fuck, starving like the ocean. You’re breathing all my goddamned air so go back to your wasted friends.”

this line made me want to drop to my knees at 8 in the morning. guy who's only ever read "a hymn to black water" voice: wow getting a lot of ahtbw vibes here

Katsuki’s asahi sits four good steps behind him for how far he’s leaned into his frustration and Anika’s legs part to accommodate him at the sticky lip of the counter.

that is all.

Finals and a nasty burglary at their internship agency. The last two awake in a 3A study session and the first awake on the last day of school. Catching the sunrise, they’d both lied.

in another, scarier universe they're the worlds most intense situationship thank god its not this one though

Anika was not built to treat him gently.

It hurts when she wants it to, when the sweat leaves too quickly or explodes while she’s stealing it. She can be gentle. She is gentle with him, the water fell off of his knuckles as if he wanted it to and floats in pools like the tide on her palm.

THE CONTRAST THE PARALLELS I'M CRAWLING ON THE WALLSSS

Doing a favor for a friend, huh? Anika slips off the counter when she understands, finally understands the whole weird evening. Shitty margaritas keep her from exploding and in fact help her reach out for a rapidly escaping Dynamight.

THE DOTS THEY'VE CONNECTED

From another party, another planet, Katsuki bobs under her spice just once, glaring—

Suddenly the apartment is infinitely larger than it should be, stretching and winding with two bad tempers at one end and the rest of their old classmates ogling at the other,

“Hey,” Anika whispers because she knows if it’s anyone, he can hear her through white noise, even tossing on a jacket and kicking on his shoes.

they're literally the only two people in the whole world everyone else is just fluff and dressing. my favorite binary stars

“Seven minutes!” someone hollers from the living room and then wheezes from a blow to the head.

ten bucks this was denki

“Scared she’s gonna steal his secrets or sumthin and take his precious ranking.” There are some grumbles, nods, and Shinsou snorts and ducks his head back out. Right, suicide.

peer pressure is a crazy thing yall stay safe

YESSSS THIS IS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT. the love makes the bickering really mean something its a crucial ingredient

He sighs too, and dips too far down for her to stop him, eyes closed, to brush his lips over hers.

bro folded in .2 seconds he's so whipped its actually crazy

His exhale tastes like hops, warm oats in the second Anika gives herself to think before she raises a startled hand and swings, claps it perfect center, into Katsuki’s cheek.

this bit genuinely made me snort on the bus

“You— no, explain myself!” Seven minutes is an awfully long time Anika stares, fingers to her lips.

i imagine during this whole exchange everyone outside is just turning their heads back and forth like it's a tennis volley

“I’m not sorry I kissed you, I’m not sorry we’re fighting—” Her freckles shift with her cheeks and she wets her lips, “It’s hard unless we’re fighting, huh?” “I like fighting with you,” he bites, hint of a smile, like he couldn’t possibly get the thought out fast enough.

asshole4asshole. real love <3

Katsuki did his homework in the common room on nights Anika made dinner. He didn’t say anything when she clipped her hair short, though she only got compliments if he was somewhere in the room. He was always in the room, the first hero to respond to a call for backup, the last person home after a drunk night out, grumpy but inevitably the one you know will answer a text when someone can’t walk on their own.

IT'S ABOUT THE QUALITY TIME THE SHARED SPACE. KNOWING WHO'S WAITING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR. BINARY STARS I TELL YOU

Anika wraps her fingers in his tshirt to stay standing, suckling, kneading, begging for him to lose slightly more composure and make some noise for her. A tongue across his teeth gets her what she wants.

he can't refuse her anything real men are so back

He holds his weight as much off of her as he can in the tight space and the subtlety of his strength gets steam trickling from her ears.

she wants to be thrown over his shoulder so bad...

He doesn’t need to see to know what kind of face she’s making as she takes his fingers in her mouth and the thought stalls him just long enough— wet, swirling— to— tight— whimper.

you can actually see him planning their honeymoon itinerary in this scene if you look closely

How quickly would her breasts warm in his fingers? How quickly would she—

this the kinda lust they were talking about in the bible

“Alright, jesus!” Mina’s pop pink voice shrills in a sudden wash of light and fresh air and her kitchen monsters startle on the floor. “Party foul! No fucking in the closet.”

another part that made wheeze out loud

Black charcoal is smudged on all fours walls, on every clean sheet on the shelf, drips in streaks and fingerprints over the bruises at both of their throats and generally illustrates the whole incriminating scene.

i felt so bad for mina at this part...her clean sheets...half their next paychecks have to go to her dry cleaning bill

Katsuki blinks up. Anika tightens her lips and Shinsou pretends not to watch through the window but smiles nonetheless in a puff of smoke on the fire escape.

AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER YIPPEEEEE

once again pomme my love you have outdone yourself and my gratitude knows no bounds

drive me like a madness, to the sea

bkg x water quirk!oc

"Fluorescent lights, hallway must, caramel and big brown eyes, melting together and at this rate forever waiting on the wrong side of a the party."

this piece was sponsored by the inimitable @ltadoriyuujl for the @ficsforgaza initiative! thank you sm for trusting me with your lovely Anika and for all your patience and guidance. cw seven min/heaven shenanigans including makeout + heavy petting, clothed grinding, manhandling, quirk use, brief description of alcohol use, aggressive banter, and implied audience. stevie nicks. one (1) miserable stint in a sweaty hallway and approximately thirty balloons. 5.9k

Sometimes just touching pages in a book, leafing through chapters, is too much. Damp hands on dry paper– they jump and rub, grate like running fingers between bricks to test how smooth they'll get. Katsuki regrets the paper gift bag he picked, slowly deteriorating in his fist and tries not to linger on the drag of class textbooks or crisp study planners as he pulls a little moleskine from his pocket.

Jun 9

Mina’s, 9pm.

6-1-63-802.

He clamps the A5 shut with his free hand and shoves it back into the depths of the hoodie he shouldn’t have worn. It’s the 1st. It’s 9:30, apartment 802. Why the fuck isn’t anyone answering the door?

The celebration in Mina’s new place thumps like caught fish and Katsuki tries to find new things to notice about the sweltering hallway, no windows, cobwebs under sprinklers, someone rattling around in the elevator a few stories down, and the errant blinking of a security camera, instead of blasting the door off its hinges. He shakes a stray blond strand from the sweat on his forehead and prays Mina can at least afford a box fan after scrounging the last few cents of the security deposit for this place from their penniless friends.

Katsuki doesn’t mind being sweaty. He doesn’t love being stranded in stuffy hallways, but he doesn’t hate the noise at these things; he mostly just hates the laundryproof reek of liquor and cigs but he’s not tapping holes in carpet for fun. Soon a distant dam will break and the floodwater hero he has no chance of outswimming will be perched on the opposite end of a loveseat six asses over capacity. She’ll be here, Anika, inevitable, thunderstorm. Sure, he doesn’t mind sweat but it’s her job to take note of wet things and he hates just how much it puts him at her mercy.

Before he can fish out his phone again to call someone inside, a bell kills the peace of the hallway and the muffled tumult of the elevator shaft bursts when its doors ding first and open, spitting out thirty-some balloons and a voice like high tide.

“Dynamight?”

He doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s her but a choir of two dozen rubbing, kissing, squeaking rubber hellions makes the hair on his arms stand up so fast that he instinctively spins to bear his teeth to it.

“What the fuck?”

Anika, as if summoned by his own dread, struggles through the elevator frame and down the hall in the same black jeans she’s worn all spring and a too-big leather jacket that does nothing to help her manage her cargo. She shakes her head in an attempt to calm some static, “Fuck what? These?” and tips up to the balloons with her chin.

“How are you showing up late with the decorations?”

“You’re just as late as I am.” Anika grunts, shrugging a purse back up her shoulder and dragging her supplies towards the door.

“Sans party essentials.”

She doesn't look like she just got off overtime but contrary to popular belief Katsuki doesn’t have the group chat muted: picking up a shift that afternoon but I’ll be there! Blah, blah. Plus, he knows that charcoal residue. She plays it off as eyeliner when she doesn’t have time to wash her face well in the agency showers. It’s gotta be on purpose, little things he knows she could fix but leave just to make him insane. A pencil with squeaky lead, the half dead hem of her uniform skirt– knocking a water glass over shared notes and leaving the paper dry but misshapen when her quirk sucks it all out again.

Anika doesn’t look like a tsunami, ambling closer in the tight space with a litany of balloons in tow and increasingly irritated he isn’t coming to meet her. She doesn’t look like the hero that apprehended a villain with their tears this afternoon and she certainly doesn’t look like a girl whose slender hands have ever knocked him unconscious. She’s grinning, practically growling through her latex bouquet when she finally manages the journey to Mina’s door and lets her bag drop off her shoulder to the doormat. She rolls her head towards him theatrically, “my hero.”

“Spare me,” Katsuki grimaces. He stares ahead and has entirely forgotten what he’s doing in the hallway besides bracing for a fist fight or doing his best to keep his head above her spicy summer perfume.

“You see my catch today?”

He considers and then grunts, fingering the binding on his notebook to give the hand in his pocket something to do instead of, again, breaking and entering. He did. Balloon static pours off Anika’s chest in waves and the cloy of it at the fuzz on his cheek almost makes him turn to face her. Like the hallway couldn’t get any stuffier. Earth would be too cramped if they were the last things on it.

“That why you’re late?”

She at least has the courtesy in this hell hall to push her ballooned fist away before leaning in close like she might have a secret to tell, “Gimme some credit Dynamight,” and, bad omen, he can taste the smile in her voice before he hears it, “or am I making you nervous?”

Everyday is the day that he met her, transfer student, water quirk, a poor matchup in his sparring class– every conversation or study session or close proximity since that day, has been the sudden agony of his defense peeled off of him like a skinned animal. He never considered how it might feel to have the life pulled from his pores, but her quirk makes it easy and the second she shows up he starts overheating. Is it that obvious? What else can he do but tilt his chin down to finally spare her a glance after so many weeks apart?

It’s a mess. Just a painters wash of freckles on cider brown cheeks and mischief close enough to bite. Anika was not built to treat him gently. Her hair, short, spikes like his with static and tickles the sleeve of his jacket as she waits for him to finally admit that she’s right. She presses closer, predator, purring on his shoulder. Fluorescent lights, hallway must, caramel and big brown eyes, melting together and at this rate forever waiting on the wrong side of a the party.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t turn away and hopes a few of his teeth are still bared, “What am I supposed to be nervous about, huh? Your nine-week plateau at #12?”

But Anika is not like him. For all her attitude she doesn’t explode off the battlefield and he knows this won’t be the thing that suddenly makes her do anything besides draw the damp off her brow with the trace of a fingernail. She leans away, jostling giggling balloons, “That’s number seven to you.”

A single afternoon jump from twelve to seven should make #3 Katsuki shudder but he’d have to be brain dead to let his heart beat that fast in this heat. Anika, hurricane, bends to collect her purse and knocks on Mina’s door as she rises,

“And what’s in your bag?—or—wait,” and grins. She bats her black lashes up, up, sweat pearling at her temples and in wild baby hairs, “about-to-be-clutch. I know you’re melting that dumb paper handle.”

The inside of kiln is actually a very nice place to be, he concedes. It’s a place Katsuki knows he can’t truly destroy anything. He can’t get hotter than white fire and he could never be more destructive than her, so what could possibly go wrong in a firing oven? What could he do, explode? Cure a porcelain vase or two? She’ll flood the whole hallway, she’ll drown all the guests, there’s nothing he could do to break her. He is melting the paper handles. What here makes him angrier, the fact that she’s right or that he’s smirking too? Albeit, over a frown.

“Well?”

He growls something in response, not important. A curled lip suits her, cocky like a feral cat. His friends get crinkle-eyed smiles and pats on the shoulder. They got to link arms with her on the way to class and they get to hold her hands during hospital stays where she coos and kisses them better. Katsuki gets this, an exclusively mischievous shimmer like glass on the backs of her dark eyes. She’s swimming in that stupid leather jacket. “Well what.”

“Were you gonna knock or are we starting a rival party in the hallway?” Anika adjusts grips on her purse and decorations and wipes at her forehead. Where her fingers graze, sweat pills and pulls gently behind them off of her skin and patters to the floor where she directs it, but the balloons don’t love being jostled and Katsuki continues to hate the sounds they make.

He winces, “already tried.”

“And?”

“Music’s too loud.”

“Perfect, I’ll start setting up out here.”

“I sent a text,” he rolls his eyes and again lets the silence of the hallway descend as he rotates rankings and pearls in his mind.

“What’s wrong with you today?”

What’s wrong with him today. Hm. What? “Eh?” Katsuki blinks himself back into the hallway, back beside her and two dozen balloons, back in her perfume, back caught in a trap, looking, watching the shapes her eyebrows can make when she isn’t glaring—

Anika frowns, “you’re being a freak.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck you, what’s your problem? You’re extra quiet, get hurt on patrol?”

It’s time for this door to lose some hinges. Katsuki lets his phone drop back into the soup of his pocket lest it catches a loose spark and leans back, “I’m fucking tired— unlike the rest of you shits, I catch more than one villain a day.”

But it’s not enough, it’s not thrilling, he’s no longer interesting and Anika tucks a charged piece of hair as far behind her ear as it’ll reach before turning away. She knocks again and the vibrations of Mina’s party fill the silence.

“Whatever.”

The balloons are no longer charming and Katsuki’s losing his grip on his bag. He’s drowning, side by side and not trying to tread in the miserable hallway beside her.

Anika pinches her purse on her shoulder with her chin and fishes her phone from its depths while droplets of sweat pluck themselves from her skin to fall in a pretty ring around her. Irritated or glowing with joy, Anika always looks the same. Face of a hero, Katsuki supposes, even stranded in his company. She concentrates constantly, more with the bridge of her nose than anything else, crinkled asymmetrically between her eyes. She watches wet things and she is never wrong.

“Fucking Hanta—” she growls and pulls her phone away from her cheek to dial another number. “If you don’t—” But she doesn’t get to finish.

Katsuki’s hand jumps damp from his pocket and flies for red balloon strings as he turns. Anika startles, propelling her balloons even faster towards the spiked sprinklers above, half dropping her phone, and fully dropping the the sweat from her brow into an eye. The first pop is horrid in the silence. Like Katsuki’s heart could beat any faster. He jerks the bundle of strings down from the stucco ceiling and flies so much closer to her than he meant to, faces mirrored in sickly light— pop! The second comes quickly, worse, but not so much worse than the third— Pop pop! Four more bursts rattle the sticky hallway and Katsuki winces every time, but Anika only stares, one hand on her eye and the other still holding an ever-wilting and only partially floating bouquet, through the noise above them.

Mina’s door soars open, purple lights, music, burnt pizza, and he and Anika both turn, tucked into one another. Her hunched and biting back laughter and Katsuki grimacing, mid lunge for party decorations.

Kaminari grins as Katsuki’s bag fails— rips right off its soaked handle, plops to floor— and leans against the door he opened.

“Bombsquad’s here.”

Katsuki perches at the edge of the kitchen only just barely still in Anika’s field of vision. He’s miserable, obviously, and nursing his headache with a beer.

“Drinking it would help more.”

He glares before the words even leave her mouth, to his group of friends and Anika perched among them, sprawled out on Mina’s unfurnished floor. He grips the asahi pressed to his forehead a little too hard and its uncracked tab wheezes with pressure. He’s already finished two. Anika knows better than anyone what a lightweight he is and how much he hates it— how much he hates a lot of things these days.

Mina, Sero, Kirishima, Uraraka, Momo, Kaminari and some kids from old class-B cluster in the living room where a sofa should go and more importantly, in the crosswind between two windows. There’s a fire escape Katsuki keeps eyeing from his storm cloud, but Shinsou’s been out there smoking with half-n-half for the past hour. Drinks splash, groups laugh, and music floods the little one-bedroom in waves from genkan to linen closet. Anika slipped her phone in the aux line up when her friends finally pulled themselves away from go-fish long enough to let her and Katsuki in. It’s been a little less Party Rock Anthem On Repeat and slightly more Fleetwood Mac’s Greatest Hits since. Smells like school. She lets Mina pull her in by the shoulder while she fills a smitten Kirishima in on details from her sidekick gig and an apparently psychic new neighbor.

Parties after work are like falling asleep in her parents’ backseat. The white noise of people she loves, though, there are fewer mcguyvered margaritas on family roadtrips. “Be right back,” Anika smiles into her friend's ear and kisses her cheek before rising on a mission for ice. Everyone’s distracted today. Maybe it’s the heat.

Katsuki growls at anyone who walks past and almost gave Deku a heart attack when he came out of the bathroom, so much so he splashed the blond with freshly washed hands and got kicked into the fridge.

“Can I reach for the freezer or am I gonna get a black eye?”

“Try me.”

Katsuki doesn’t crack as she approaches, but still moves to let her close.

“You know,” she coos and breaks the seal on crisp frozen air, “When a puppy’s too aggressive you’re supposed to play with their paws.”

“You fucking drunk?”

Anika smiles into the artificial breeze and directs six ice cubes out of their tray with a finger. Even Dynamight, elven in his rage, can’t be bothered to quip or fight today. Can’t even be bothered to go home. What planet did everyone ship off to without her? They can’t let guests in, can’t check their phones, can’t mix a decent drink or queue any good music— Why’d Mina throw this party anyway? Graduation was ages ago. Why did she need balloons twenty minutes before this was all supposed to start? Katsuki simmers beside her, resting his hips on the rounded edge of the counter.

“You feeling particularly territorial?” She drags an ice cube over the back of his hand as she closes the door and ducks slightly to avoid recoil. His forehead beer shrieks with more pressure but neither ice nor punches fly.

“M’not your dog.”

“Not with that attitude you’re not.” She plucks a floater from the counter and dumps it in the sink behind them. He’s got no bark today, nothing’s made him bite.

Katsuki glares over his shoulder into the small sea of people chattering and setting games up on the floor. He glows. Fairy lights fizzle at the base of his neck where sweat stains the ripple of back muscles and his cotton t-shirt. Every part of him is heavy and polished. He is intentional even with his back turned. A skull hoodie hangs in the entryway and Anika can pick out his shoes from thirty others because of how particularly he lays them together. She lifts her hips over the counter to sit. He’ll let her closer. He always does even if only to get in striking range.

“You’re soaked, short-fuse.”

“First day with eyes?”

Can he feel her eyes tracing his throat? His waist is so narrow compared to his shoulders that the hem of his shirt hangs slightly over his jeans, a black belt hugging milk skin in Mina’s obnoxious colored strip lights. Katsuki reeks of caramel. He finally turns back around. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Anika pretends like she hasn’t been watching and flicks the tap water on to fill her cup, “Like what?”

“Like you’re starving. I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re fucking delusional,” she huffs, nursing water, “You’re the mutt here not me. And I’ve been eating, unlike someone whose too focused on looking cool to join the goddamned party.”

“Not in the mood.”

“When are you ever.”

Katsuki’s beer finally cracks when he drops it on the counter. The two heroes hiss without a/c in an apartment they don’t realize is watching them. Always a fist fight, he is always just one wrong look away from snapping or bursting but never storming away and today is no different even if he tries to feign disinterest. He can’t pretend forever in their kiln for two. She’ll wash away the clay.

“Not starving like a dog you fuck, starving like the ocean. You’re breathing all my goddamned air so go back to your wasted friends.”

“I’m keeping one company right now.”

His jaw puffs as he grinds his teeth, “Just leave me alone.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Bump up a few ranks and suddenly you think you’re the people’s fucking princess—”

“Oi—”

“—you’re not the center of the universe tsunami.”

“Why’d you even come if you’re just gonna sulk in here away from everyone?”

“I’m doing an infinitely shittier and shittier friend a fucking favor being here and putting up with interrogation practice from the worst bad cop in the country wasn’t part of our agreement.”

Katsuki’s asahi sits four good steps behind him for how far he’s leaned into his frustration and Anika’s legs part to accommodate him at the sticky lip of the counter. His white knuckles go pink. It’s been two weeks since she’s seen him outside of a television screen and nine since they’ve been alone. Finals and a nasty burglary at their internship agency. The last two awake in a 3A study session and the first awake on the last day of school. Catching the sunrise, they’d both lied.

“You’re beating the shit out of anyone that comes into the kitchen, just go home if you hate it here so badly.”

“I can think of something,” he growls, closer, “that’ll make me hate it less.”

“m’not letting you kick Deku again.”`

He stops short of shouting but it’s too late to hide from her now. He forgot he was trying. “You got your ice now git, back out to sea or wherever the fuck you stir shit for a living.” Stevie fucking Nicks moans somewhere in the thrum of their friends and their friends and those friends’ terrible mixology skills as clear liquor stings every nose in the room and both of the kitchen monsters pretend like their ears aren’t hot with drink. From another party, another planet, Katsuki bobs under her spice just once, glaring— how could he not, she’s one breath away pressed back into the counter between his arms and curling her own fingers over his without looking away.

“Still soaked,” Anika hisses and a door slams somewhere as Katsuki snatches her wrist with Dynamight strength to keep her quirk from killing him.

Sparring with her is suicidal, the only way to win is in close quarters after Katsuki has enough ammunition hidden to hold her tight and detonate. He’s knocked them both unconscious fourteen times. She’s won conscious twice and tonight might make three because Anika’s grin explodes cheshire with her back on kitchen tiles and a dripping hand crushed at the wrist.

“Have it back,” she purrs and before she can flex her fingers, before Katsuki can lunge, someone whistles from the living room.

“You’re up, bombsquad.”

Suddenly the apartment is infinitely larger than it should be, stretching and winding with two bad tempers at one end and the rest of their old classmates ogling at the other, fingers on their noses. Shinsou pokes a head through the window and all the sweat drops from Anika’s hand to the floor.

The linen closet, the walk-in beside the bedroom door, hangs open in white light with Momo and Jiro scurrying out to much fanfare. Uraraka must have been the one who slammed the door open because she stands beside it now bashfully checking the wall behind it for holes.

“Nose went, sorry guys.”

Katsuki backs off before Anika can kick him and more quickly than he’s moved all night, reaches for his hoodie.

“Not so fast Kats!” Kirishima grins. He’s humoring Kaminari’s burnt pizza with one hand and rubbing his nose with the other on a makeshift cardboard stool beside the window. Doing a favor for a friend, huh? Anika slips off the counter when she understands, finally understands the whole weird evening. Shitty margaritas keep her from exploding and in fact help her reach out for a rapidly escaping Dynamight. “Katsuki!” Kirishima whines again, “Please!”

“I told you he wouldn’t!”

“Leave them alone,” Momo tries to soothe but Jiro covers her mouth and kisses the back of her palm.

“Hey,” Anika whispers because she knows if it’s anyone, he can hear her through white noise, even tossing on a jacket and kicking on his shoes. The crowd boos and she presses closer “Katsuki.”

“Fuck off! M’not playing juvenile drinking games.”

“Thought you weren’t drunk,” she pushes just a little too far and resists flinching when the hero jolts back around, crackling, snarling. Her hand lands on his chest instead of an arm when he pressed in and the force pushes her back.

“You knew. Fuck ev—!”

“I didn’t Kats—“

“Going home.”

“I’m—” she doesn’t want that, “I shouldn’t have teased—” and grips the fabric over his heart just a little bit tighter so he won’t leave without a fight. “It was too much. Can I just talk to you for a minute?”

“Seven minutes!” someone hollers from the living room and then wheezes from a blow to the head.

“Whatever, can we just talk for seven minutes? God knows when I'll see you after tonight.”

Katsuki’s frozen mid-hoodie to glare, hunched; damp little hands on his chest where he can’t hide his heartbeat. Anika wipes a running pearl from the curve Katsuki’s collarbone. No quirk this time. It’s faint but Sero murmurs into a bad drink, “Scared she’s gonna steal his secrets or sumthin and take his precious ranking.” There are some grumbles, nods, and Shinsou snorts and ducks his head back out. Right, suicide.

"Start the timer,” Dynamight growls.

It takes four seconds for Katsuki’s hoodie to hit the back wall (and whip Denki with the zipper) and for the kitchen monsters to cross the humming room towards the linen closet. “Seven,” he spits to the closest onlooker, Uraraka, who startles and juggles her phone in her hands a few times before getting a hold of herself. Katsuki slams the door behind his company without looking back and there’s an unspoken consensus that this wouldn’t have been such an excellent idea sober.

It wouldn’t have happened sober, it barely happened tipsy and Anika tries to gauge the difference between gin and water in her veins before fumbling for the lights. Immediately, the skin between her thighs is damp. The heat of such a tight space would be unbearable if it weren’t for a little stained glass window and the crosswind from under the door, but still, she considers in the dark, it’s miserable. Momo’s bodysuit was stained gray from sweat and Jiro wasn’t just pink from a kiss or two.

“They’re trying to kill us,” she huffs, and cracks the little window before pulling on the light. Katsuki beats her to it.

He’s a dick but he’s not belligerent, and more than anything he’s made to be a hero. He made himself to save people, his parents made him to love him and his friends love to have him. Anika loves to have him. Even if he takes up all the room in this box with his overworked chest and red glare, it shouldn’t matter how weird he’s acting and she shouldn’t be so childish.

“Short-fuse,” she sighs, and turns. Apologies suck, but she’s not a student anymore, she’s not a intern, she’s not even in college, she’s a hero, they’re grown they’re busy, and she’ll devolve forever into immature goads cos he’ll let her. They don’t have enough time anymore to be kids or be close or pretend. “Katsuki—”

He sighs too, and dips too far down for her to stop him, eyes closed, to brush his lips over hers. His exhale tastes like hops, warm oats in the second Anika gives herself to think before she raises a startled hand and swings, claps it perfect center, into Katsuki’s cheek. The whole affair is noisy like they’re two crabs boxing in a paper bag. He stumbles into a towel rack, clutching his face, Anika holding her own and both of them staring, both of them slack jawed, as someone turns her music down outside.

“What the fuck!” She squeals after getting a grip on the windowsill behind her.

He can’t back up any farther than the doorframe and with his back on wood Katsuki, barks “I could say the same!” holding tight to his red face.

“I— I was trying to a apologize first!”

“First?! You were gonna kiss me anyway but when I beat you to it I get a concussion!”

“No— well, wait— apologize before you, you could—!”

“Could what!”

“I was gonna explain!”

“You hadn’t even done a fucking thing yet what would you have explained?!”

“You— no, explain myself!” Seven minutes is an awfully long time Anika stares, fingers to her lips. She hadn’t thought about what to do after apologizing, or how badly she needed to kiss him. Needs to kiss him. “I was— I just, miss you.”

Katsuki howls before freezing, before his face drops from harsh lines to one smooth stare.

“I haven’t seen you! I don’t get to see you, at home, at work, and when I finally do you won’t even talk to me. You won’t—” Anika swallows and tilts her head side to side before trying to look back up. She fingers a short piece of hair by her ear, “You don’t like parties, you don’t like anyone but Kirishima I don’t know how I’m supposed to see you anymore and I finally get the chance and I act like a second-year, I— you— you were lying. I knew something was wrong— or you were thinking about something or— er— and I was just so excited you actually came, I would talk to you about anything, you could told me about paint drying, but you’ve been acting so weird all night and I just,” Anika heaves, her hand falls from her mouth and takes up the job of a fist, “I’m sorry.”

Katsuki flinches, slightly more wide eyed than sobriety would usually allow him, a foot or two away from one of his favorite people and the cling of her summer perfume. “You’re not an idiot,” he sighs.

“You’re not listening!”

“I’m always listening.”

“You’re never getting a fucking apology from me again.”

“I don’t want one.”

“Gun to my head.”

“I never want another, don’t apologize.” This closet is not up to code so Katsuki moves slowly to avoid splinters and another blow to the head.

“I shouldn’t have used my quirk,” Anika sneers, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop it.”

She pushes off the back wall, “M’sorry for teasing you about that dumb paper bag,” freckles and sweat mixing. She has never been wrong.

“Anika.”

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in here with me.”

Every thought is one inch closer, “I’m not.” Until Katsuki can lift his hands just and inch and her jaw is there waiting to fit perfectly into them.

“It’s your turn.”

“I’m not sorry.”

She sucks her teeth but lets him closer.

“I’m not sorry I kissed you, I’m not sorry we’re fighting—”

Her freckles shift with her cheeks and she wets her lips, “It’s hard unless we’re fighting, huh?”

“I like fighting with you,” he bites, hint of a smile, like he couldn’t possibly get the thought out fast enough. “I just, I don’t know how anymore. We don’t live together, we don't work together—”

Anika smiles back, “How long?”

“Two years.”

“How long left?”

“Five minutes.”

It’s enough, she traces the back of his clammy neck and dips into a kiss.

She always imagined him more timid than this, to kiss, a nerd too nervous to hold hands, but Katsuki presses as deeply as she’ll let him and they both fumble towards a wall. Four legs tangled, he holds the back of her head away from wood and glass and bites a lip to keep her close. Anika wraps her fingers in his tshirt to stay standing, suckling, kneading, begging for him to lose slightly more composure and make some noise for her. A tongue across his teeth gets her what she wants. Katsuki grabs her wrists and throws them over his shoulders so she has something to hold when he hoists her off her feet and onto the top of the step ladder.

“y’move too much,” he growls knowing she can’t hear him, knowing he might not have even said anything and melting a little when her tongue slips gently under his. He has to cup her cheeks to keep from falling over. He’s not close enough. Anika pulls him the only place he can still move, crumbling on top of her and poised on the steps of a shitty metal stool. He fits between her legs like a puzzle and she gasps into his mouth when he rolls too deep.

“Bad sound?” he startles and settles again when Anika shakes her head with her hands in his hair. Not bad, not drunk, not gentle, she wants to watch him fall apart but she’ll cherish a dark closet on a sticky night if that’s the best the universe can do on such short notice. He holds his weight as much off of her as he can in the tight space and the subtlety of his strength gets steam trickling from her ears.

He drags a thumb over the swell of her lip to catch his breath in the heat but she shudders and chases his hand with her tongue. God, if he was clammy before. Anika clutches his shirt and his wrist and for more than a second Katsuki skewers commons sense to the wall. She sucks just hard enough to pull the tip of his thumb past her lips. Too hot, it’s too hot, Katsuki is soaked, sweat floods the swell of his chest and drips between his knuckles. He doesn’t need to see to know what kind of face she’s making as she takes his fingers in her mouth and the thought stalls him just long enough— wet, swirling— to— tight— whimper. Katsuki snatches her jaw with his fist and buries his face in the damp of her neck. Salty, she trembles when he kisses her there and makes a frazzled sound when he growls.

“Don’t,” he groans with slightly more sense, “my quirk—"

“I’m waterproof.”

“Y’rnot bombproof.”

“Well don’t light a candle,” she grins into the dim and him with her, dragging his lips from her ear to her throat and sinking his teeth into the pulse of her perfume.

He likes the sound she makes when he bites even more so he does it again. Again, he pulls the fragile skin between his lips and soothes over the welts he makes with his tongue when her fingers start to dance on his chest. Between her lips and her collar bone he rises to kiss her and falls to bruise her on the path that makes her breathe loudest and when she finally has to cover her mouth he pauses and kneads harder. How quickly would her breasts warm in his fingers? How quickly would she—

“Katsuki,” Anika huffs above him and his eyes dart to hers, glowing black in the moonlight. “How long?”

“Don’t care.”

She drags her fingers over his forehead and claws through the front of his hair without another word. Her nails are heaven on his scalp. As much as he hates to look away, his eyes roll and she swallows, sinking off the steps and into the crook of his neck. Better, her lips are better than her nails and when her hair tickles his chin it’s all Katsuki can do not to dissolve around her. Anika works gingerly and she pulls the collar of his shirt down to reach the parts of him she wants. His ear, throat, the vibrating skin above his heart, all bloom in pink bruises while her nails rake his shoulder. He manages to drag his hands up her waist and bite his own tongue to stay quiet, but hardly more than that. Melt into her lips when she lets him. They sink together into a spot between stacked towels and a previously functional laundry horse and forget for the next however long that there will be things to talk about in the world outside of Mina’s linen closet. Forget sleep, forget work and shitty apartments, forget clothes— Katsuki's hands glide over wet skin and under the hem of Anika’s top. Every inch closer is the drum of her heart and her clumsy desperate fingers tugging at his belt loops in gasps caught between their lips.

“Alright, jesus!” Mina’s pop pink voice shrills in a sudden wash of light and fresh air and her kitchen monsters startle on the floor. “Party foul! No fucking in the closet.” Katsuki’s hoodie sails over Mina’s shoulder from the crowd and onto Anika’s head.

His tshirt is a v-neck in four different places and Anika’s hair spikes in every direction but the one that she styled it in after work. Black charcoal is smudged on all fours walls, on every clean sheet on the shelf, drips in streaks and fingerprints over the bruises at both of their throats and generally illustrates the whole incriminating scene.

“Happy?” Mina’s overliquored drink rolls her eyes for her and she turns back around to the stunned crowd, spilling a little onto Sero, “everyone happy? Can we please have normal parties now? One’s that don’t gamble with my security deposit.” She turns again, overshooting it, ignoring the hands Kirishima hovers right over the spot her head would land if she tipped over, “And you two, did we fix you or was was this a terrible idea?”

Katsuki blinks up. Anika tightens her lips and Shinsou pretends not to watch through the window but smiles nonetheless in a puff of smoke on the fire escape.

#rambles #annotations #my little barbie and ken doll im smashing them together to make them kiss #bakugou x oc #bakugo x oc #pomme i love youuu

49 notes · View notes

lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 4 years ago

Note

Constantine: His Rogues Gallery includes Minor Gods! What is wrong with you people?! // Danny: What do you mean? I don't fight Minor Go- *(thinks about Undergrowth, Vortex, and Nocturne)* Okay so I see where you're coming from. But I'm sure you guys have dealt with the type before and tbh Undergrowth just can't handle the cold. So just get a Freeze Ray or get Superman to breathe on him and everything'll be good.

I actually haven't really thought much about the concept of his enemies being minor gods but like you right they are

even if only by legend, the ghost zone is full of natural portals that open up into different time periods, these ghosts may not even be as old as the legends about them are, they've just jumped through enough portals and wreaked enough havoc to make names for themselves among a variety of cultures, they may have even changed forms a few times (as we know ghosts can sometimes do) which gave people the impression that they were different gods

not to mention some of the ghosts were ripped directly out of mythology, Pandora for one, her legend is way different from the real thing, likely due to history's classic game of telephone fucking everything up

then there's the question of if they are actually literal gods or were just mistaken for them, ghosts born from the dead are different than ghosts born of the ghost zone

I like to adopt the concept of poltergeists, spirits created from an amalgamation of emotion verses the independent soul/spirit/personality of someone who died

so the Far Frozen in my eyes was a civilisation created by the collection of human curiosity, they are essentially knowledge spirits who have grown their own culture, there are many of them due to scholars and education systems often relying on the experiences of many, teaching each other and engaging in discussion in order to understand things better, there are likely many different yetis with different specific interests, new yetis coming into being when more humans discover new things, they could all be considered minor gods based on their individual interests, and many have likely travelled through portals in an opportunistic field trip to learn, and due to their appearance and seemingly omniscient knowledge, have been associated as a god of their particular field of study

Undergrowth I like to imagine is a new spirit, born only recently with the rise of general frustration and anger by current generations over the destruction of the planet's environment and ecosystems, he is an amalgamation of the energy that would be produced at climate rallies and protests

Nocturne is also born of a combined human experience, that of course being dreams, he is probably one of the oldest spirits in human existence, his journeys in and out of natural portals would have inspired legends like that of the sandman and the greek god Morpheus, his recent rise to power may have been caused by a gradual incline of insomnia among people, the more desperation for sleep feeding into Nocturne's drastic behaviour

Vortex was also likely to be an old god, born of a time when people believed the weather to be made by gods and not simply a natural event, he's one I like to think has changed appearance many times over the years, he has hopped back and forth through portals, and his personality changes like the weather (ha ha) depending on the people who would pray to him and give offerings for rain to water their crops, in which case he would come and bring rain because it's what people believe he will do, or when an extreme natural weather event happens and people believe the gods to be angry and vengeful, in which case he would become angry and vengeful, in his episode during the show, I believe he showed up destructive because there had been a recent natural disaster somewhere in the world where the culture believed their god to be responsible, it wouldn't matter which god, Vortex would always be the one to embody that belief, as long it was associated with the weather

so I think it would be apt to refer to these native born ghosts created by pieces of human consciousness as minor gods, as they cannot truly be destroyed unless humans as a whole stopped feeling or thinking or believing in whatever initially created them, Nocturne cannot be permanently destroyed because people will always dream, Undergrowth can't be destroyed as long as people still feel fury over the destruction of the environment, but his behaviour could be altered if humans became more sustainable in the future and the general frustration and anger over environmental destruction waned, Vortex may actually have lost much of his power over time as fewer and fewer people blamed gods or spirits for the weather, if that belief ever disappeared entirely, so would he

even regular human born ghosts could even reach minor god status if they become a known figure, Pandora may have been human once, but in death became famous from her legend (inaccurate though it has become), and as a result became quite powerful, I also think she represents more than one deity, I think she likely also is believed to be the goddess Soteria (greek goddess of protection and safety, due to her role as the guardian of the Box), and so that belief also fuels her power, despite humanity believing those two identities to be seperate beings, however I don't believe she would be susceptible to a change in personality like natural born deities are since she already had a personality and a sense of identity to begin with, but her abilities and the power she wields may be altered by public perception

and to leap off of THAT point, we reach the idea that Danny is a very famously known ghost that many people believe in, many people love him, like Pandora he is a protector and a guardian, and so his ability to protect is boosted by that, much like a deity who is powered by worship, he himself has inadvertently become a minor god

and he also happens to be close friends with a MAJOR God, a God with a capital G, one who has existed before humans, existed before earth, he gained a physical manifestation as humans began to understand time as a concept, this, of course, being Clockwork, who happens to be responsible for every minor god's interaction with the human world because he controls the time periods in which the natural portals open, hence why so many portals were opening in ancient greece, because Clockwork had determined that their mythology was important to the future for whatever reason, I mean greek myths are still well known by today's standards and that must have been important enough for Clockwork to ensure it happened that way

he puts a lot of focus on Danny's development because he will become something incredibly significant to history, which is why other superheroes reeeeaaaally need to step back and mind their own god damn business, I can just imagine Clockwork popping in on Constantine and stressing the absolute importance of Danny being left alone

and then Constantine has to go chew out the Justice League because THE LITERAL GOD OF TIME SAID YOU NEED TO S T O P

#op danny dc edition #asks #danny phantom #overpowered danny #clockwork #vortex #nocturne #undergrowth #constantine #justice league #I dunno how we just decided that DP takes place in the DC universe but I dunno it just fits better somehow

1K notes · View notes

mythiccheroacademia · 4 years ago

Text

— what you fight about (pt.2)

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙

𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤: 𝕚’𝕞 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪. 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕪'𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤. 𝕒𝕝𝕤𝕠 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕡𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣’𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕜 <𝟛 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕥𝕠𝕩𝕚𝕔 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕣��/𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕥 ℙ𝕋𝕊��, 𝕒𝕟𝕩𝕚𝕖𝕥𝕪, 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕪 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪’𝕣𝕖 𝕦𝕡𝕤𝕖𝕥 :/

Tamaki Amajiki:

you love everything about tamaki

all his faults and his strengths

but sometimes…it feels like you’re the only one keeping it together

and to always be the strong one is hard

It had been a difficult two weeks since your last mission.

Perhaps you were naïve to believe you wouldn’t experience a death any time soon. However, you had been bright and hopeful. The hero you worked as a sidekick for rarely got involved in super-high level threats. You dealt with misdemeanors and a few moderate-sized threats.

Maybe you were being stupid. Nevertheless, the tragedy hit you hard. Both physically and mentally.

You were out until you could safely use your quirk again. In the meantime, your fiancé had done all he could to take care of you. But he was worried.

Tamaki couldn’t help but panic. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you better. Honestly, he wanted you back to normal. He just didn’t know how to do it. You were always the strength of the relationship.

He felt so pathetic over his inability to help, spending hours on the phone with Mirio and Neijre crying over the issue. Afterwards, he’d crawl into bed, cheeks wet with tears, and despite your sadness, you’d wrap your arms around him.

You’d comfort him like you always do and it’d make him feel even worse.

You knew he was trying his best and appreciated that. Though, there was a point to which it all got to be too much for you to handle.

Mirio and Neijre came over to help put up some Christmas decorations. You wanted to cancel. Today hadn’t been a good day. However, Amajiki began to worry over your mood again and so you held your thoughts to avoid his tears.

But it seemed like your tears were the ones you should’ve been worried about.

You sat down on a chair and held your head. The world was spinning, and your ears were ringing. Your eyes burned so badly you felt they’d melt out of your head.

“Bunny!?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. “I just need a minute.”

“What can I do?” Tamaki rushed to kneel beside you, fear shining in his glossy eyes.

You shook you head balling your fist near your lips to keep in a cry. “I’m fine, baby,” you sniffed, but that was a lie.

Your head was swimming, buzzing, and filled with nothing but noise. No matter how hard you tried to make it go away, you just couldn’t. You couldn’t deal with that or—

“I-I’ll take care of you. Just p-please tell me what to do!” he begged. You could feel his anxiety seeping into your body and it nearly sent you over the edge.

“Tama, please.”

“I can—I can do something. Anything. Anything you want. An-and—"

All you could think about was how you failed the mission, the girl, her parents, your team, your friends, the public, and—

“Amajiki.”

“B-bunny, I know I haven’t been a good fiancé l-lately, but I-I promise I’ll—"

“AMAJIKI!”

Tamaki jumped, eyes wide and body frozen as he took in the near panic in your eyes.

“I CAN’T—” your voice was shrill before you hiccupped, choking back a sob. You squeezed the air by your head, hoping to ground yourself to something that wasn’t there.

“I just can’t deal with you right now, okay? I-I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Your breaths left in puffs as you silently watched his mind work to process your words, and when it did, you saw his heart visibly break.

He grabbed his hand to cradle it into his chest like it was wounded. When he spoke, it was barely a whisper, not even a decibel above faint.

“N-no, it’s…I—I’ll give you some space.”

He tried to offer a brave smile, but it wobbled too much to do anything. The tears that ran down his cheeks seemed to suffocate him, and Tamaki couldn’t bite back his cry in time before he quickly left the room. Mirio worriedly gazed at you before running after his friend.

Your eyes remained transfixed on the space where your fiancé once stood. It wasn’t until moments later, when you felt Neijre’s comforting hands around your torso, that you doubled over and wept.

Togata Mirio:

he’s optimistic

too optimistic sometimes

you love the light he brings into your life

but it’s at the cost of him dismissing your feelings and worries

You checked the backseat when the car stopped at the red light to ensure your sleeping son was still there.

“Two minutes and 20 seconds. That’s a new record babe,” Mirio chuckled.

“Very funny.” You threw an unimpressed glare at your husband before turning back into your seat. “But can you blame me? After the heart attack I had this morning, I wanna chain him to my chest and never let go.”

The blonde hero hummed thoughtfully. “That’s only slightly psychotic.”

“Mirio.”

“I’m kidding!”

You huffed and looked away. You were a bit annoyed over the nonchalance your husband seemed to have over what occurred today.

Your son had presented with a quirk and, to your horror, it was similar to Mirio’s—if not even more dangerous. When you came back to find your baby fading away before sinking into the ground, you screamed like murder.

Mirio had never phased into a room so quickly in his life.

After getting both you and your kid (mostly you) to calm down, you went straight to the hospital to make sure everything was still intact. They gave you some quirk inhibiting medication for your kid, a quick pep talk, and you were on your way back home.

The hectic morning made your son knock out as soon as he hit the car seat. You wanted to follow suit but were too paranoid to do so. In fact, you wanted to hold him—just in case. But Mirio insisted the medication would hold him until you got home. Then he cracked a joke about your kid turning into tumble weed and laughed like it was the funniest thing he ever said.

And he kept making jokes. Like this was funny.

Forget annoyed. It was pissing you off.

Mirio peeked a quick glance over your stiff figure. A small grin graced his lips, and he placed a comforting hand on your thigh.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I know you’re scared. I’ll chill with the jokes. Just promise not to blow a gasket on me, will ya?” he smiled.

You averted your eyes away from the moving tress to look at him well. “You could take this a little more seriously, you know?” you said.

“I assure you, I am 100% serious.”

He couldn’t even say that with a straight face. You rolled your eyes, groaning into your head tilt.

“Ooou you get on my nerves—”

“Sunshine, it’ll be fineee,” he happily assured. “It’ll just take some practice before [S/N] gets control of it.”

“[S/N] literally turns invisible before he permeates through surfaces. That’s so scary. I can’t do anything for him unless you're there and even then, that might not always work out. We need to figure something out.”

“His quirk is really not too far from mine. And you remember all the funny things that happened when I was a kid.”

You incredulously looked at him. “Yeah, all the funny near death experiences!”

“And I turned out fine!” Mirio laughed.

You wanted to rip your hair out. There was literally no getting through to him.

“Forget it. I don’t even know why I bother.” You scooted away from his hand, crossing your arms in frustration. “It’s not like you take my feelings seriously anyways.”

That last part was meant for your own ears, however Mirio heard them loud and clear. He turned into the neighborhood, brows subtly scrunching together.

“Now that’s not true. I care about that a lot actually.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Well that was not the answer he expected.

There were a couple minutes of uncomfortable silence before the car reached your garage and was turned off. You two looked forwards for a moment before someone spoke.

“I feel like we should talk about this,” Mirio slowly said, turning to watch for your reaction.

You gave him a glare that caused him to goofily purse his lips. You then got out of the car and went to go unstrap your son so you could hold him until the events of the morning faded from your mind.

As a last resort to make you smile, Mirio permeated his torso through his seat to give you the cheesiest grin.

“I love you, honey bunny~” he sung.

To which he earned a car door slammed in his face.

Dabi:

he’s selfish

you know it and he does too

yet you still stay around because you love him

but it seems like he couldn’t care less about whether or not you do

You impassively sat on the couch of your small apartment. Your hands were folded across your chest, teeth chattering against the raw skin underneath your nail bed. For a minute straight, your knee bounced in place before you stood up and took to pacing in order to release the energy bubbling in your chest.

It felt like hours before your apartment door opened.

Dabi threw his keys onto the closest surface and shrugged off his heavy jacket. You didn’t realize you’d moved before you took the jacket to hang on the wall.

“It’s cold as shit out there,” he shivered.

“Yeah, there’s supposed to be a blizzard sometime soon,” you replied, yet it sounded distant. However, Dabi didn’t seem to notice.

“Can’t wait,” he huffed. A mischievous glint grew in his eyes as he pulled you into his chest by your waist. Usually that would’ve made your thighs tense with anticipation. But all you could do was stand there like dead weight—and again, he didn’t notice. Did he ever? “But I guess it won’t be too bad if I have you to keep me warm, hm?” he smirked.

You stood stiff as he kissed your lips and tears burned your eyes as he moved to your neck, hands affectionately squeezing your hips. The bubbles in your chest rumbled and popped like angry bees when you realized he hadn’t noticed. He never noticed it. He never noticed anything about you. Just like he hadn’t noticed—

“Dabi, what day is it?”

His lips continued to pepper your skin with licks and nips, mindlessly working to find your sweet spot again. “Mmm…Thursday, sweetheart.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too.” Dabi looked up and met your stone cold face that looked angrier by the second. He quirked a brow. “What’s up with you?”

“It’s our one year anniversary, you asshole.”

You pushed him away, stomping towards your room. However, Dabi grabbed your arm, pulling you back into the conversation. But instead of hearing an apology, you received an inattentive eyeroll.

“Don’t be like that, doll-face. It’s really not that deep.”

“Excuse me?” you spat. “You said the same thing ever since our 6 month and I let it go, but now you wanna act like this isn’t a big deal? You know how much this means to me.”

“And you know that’s not my style. I don’t care about shit like that.”

“Well I do.” You moved out of his grasp and put distance between yourselves to help you think.

Dabi ran a hand through his hair, stress in his movements. “Are we really gonna do this right now, Y/N?”

“Yes! Because you don’t get it!”

Fed up with the argument already, Dabi threw his hands in the air, letting his frustration carry the words through his lips. It had been an awful day, his staples were aching from the weather, and this was making everything worse.

“I already missed the damn thing, what do you want me to do!? You want me to say I’ll make up for it?”

“I want you to care, Dabi!” you desperately exclaimed. “I want you to care about me, about this relationship. Damn it, I want you to care about anything else besides what’s in my pants for once in your life—”

“Well that’s all I wanted until you started asking for more shit and I gave you that. What more do you want from me?” he sneered.

There was a silent pause between you two. You blankly stared at the man you’d come to love despite the hell he put you through. When you observed the honest irritation in his eyes, everything became clear. It was in that moment you realized it wasn’t that he never noticed. It was that he didn’t care. He never did.

That’s when you felt the deep ache of heartbreak nestle between your lungs.

“What more do I want from you,” you repeated, tasting the words. You numbly laughed and nodded your head, silently accepting his truth.

There were no tears, just bitter emptiness.

“Well, uh…you don’t have to worry about that anymore. You won’t be roped into another anniversary with me again.”

It was a moment too late when your soft whisper broke through the angry storm that clouded Dabi’s head. His face sunk with the exhaustion of a man well beyond his years.

“Y/N, baby, can we just talk about this—"

“Leave the spare key on your way out.”

And before he could utter another word, you shut your bedroom door like it was never to be opened again.

#tamaki amakiji #tamaki x reader #suneater #mirio togata #mirio x reader #lemillion #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #bnha headcanons #mha drabbles #angst

1K notes · View notes

milqueandsugar · 4 years ago

Text

🏵 Your Tea Is Ready 🏵

Parts:

https://milqueandsugar.tumblr.com/post/643788553154920448/can-you-techno-with-a-reader-who-is-constantly

https://milqueandsugar.tumblr.com/post/643889114110918656/idk-if-this-is-where-you-put-requests-but-do-you

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, injury

Genre: Angst

| Hear No Evil, Do No Evil |

After your second kind of a date kind of not a date your very cateful around Techno

Every part of you tells you your being paranoid, but the other knows that theres something he isn't telling you

You know the piglin to well not to know when he's lying

And you care to much to ignore it

Convinced he's done something to upset you Techno doesn't search for your company like he used to

Something both him and the voices aren't very happy about

Being in love is a new emotion for him, he loves Philza sure, he loves Steven but he's never been IN love

He never realized how different those statements were before

Just like when he goes to many days without a kill the voices begin to get louder and louder, only this time he had no idea how to please them

Before he had lost everything he could lose he used to lock himself away during these fits

Know that he knows himself better, and how to control himself, he just goes around slaying any animal that crossed paths with him

Not the most elegant solution but it brought more peace to his mind

Now with no idea how to get the voices quiet he's resorted to quite literally trapping himself in his bunker

He know's your upset

He's convinced himself it's because of him

Theres no way in hell he's going to see you when all he can think about is how good you smell, how your smile makes his frozen heart melt, how soft your skin is compared to his own, how lovingly you adjust his clothes or armour after battle

All the while he scars the stone ground with his claws, chanting mantras alongside unheard voices

It had been a good two weeks since you had heard from the piglin. Not entirely unusual for you, as you rather detested the cool weather up in the arctic. However knowing there was some sort of conflict between you and your best friend made you restless at night, you couldn't keep ignoring him. He didn't deserve that, plus you missed Philza's morning tea, the smell of campfires that clung to everything in his house, the way Steve would bring sticks for you to toss. You missed the magnificent bastards that made up the Antarctic empire. More importantly, you missed Technoblade.

By the time you reached the cabin you had noticed it was unusually still. Steve and Carl were out in the yard, mosing about but there was no sign of Technoblade or Philza. They were both pretty hard workers, stubborn as hell as well, seeing as it was half past twelve you would expect the two of them to be running around doing chores. Surprisingly however it was still, perhaps they had things inside to do? Or maybe they took your suggestion for a lunch break a bit more seriously then expected.

Entering the cabin you call out for them, nothing, looking around you couldn't help but notice how much of a mess everything was. You had only ever seen the house in this much disarray before they traveled, or that time Phil let a creeper into the house and things got fucken wild. But, if traveling was the case why was Carl out front? And why was Techno's sword hung up on the mantle.

And unsettling feeling began to creep over your shoulders as you slowly begin to pick up the clutter. You couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation for things, so you decided to wait until you could come up with one or was given one. The sun had long set before Phil arrived at the house, clearly surprised to find you still sorting through chests. Clearly worried as well.

You turn to greet the man but are quickly cut off, "what are you doing here?" He ushers quickly shitting the door behind him. "I was looking for Technoblade, why is something happening? Is the butcher gang back?" You explain, chest tightening with unease. Something was seriously wrong. "No, no nothing like that we aren't in any danger. Technoblade is having another fit, he's not doing very well at the moment. It might be best for you to leave" Phil warned, his usual cheerful voice dripping with a nervousness you hadn't heard from him in a long time. You wave off the older gentleman scoffing, "Phil you're forgetting I used to go hunting with him I've seen him pretty bad-" "He's locked himself in his bunker. He doesn't even trust himself anymore, he won't eat nor sleep, whatever he has going on in his head is far more then the two of us can handle at the moment" Phil cut you off. You stood in shock, he locked himself away? Technoblade hasn't done that in.. years! What the hell was going on with him.

You wanted to believe Phil was lying to you, that Technoblade was off terrorizing villagers and he was just buying his companion time. But the genuine look of fear in his emerald eyes made your stomach sink. "He's not well Y/N, I certainly don't want him to come back to you dead or injured. He'll come through eventually, just not right now. " The blonde approached you and wrapped strong arms around your shoulders, you hadn't even realized that you were crying until he began to shush you.

"Listen, listen, stay the night here. It's too late for you to travel especially in this sort of weather, in the morning I'll take you back home, I'll let you know immediately when hes better" He assures you, pulling away to cup your face in his hands and wipe your tears with his thumbs. "Let's get you to bed, come on, let's go." Fatherly wasn't something you saw much in Phil anymore, but you couldn't deny how comforting it was, if not a bit embarrassing to have the man tuck you into Techno's sheets before turning out the lamp.

As you lay in the blood God's bed, listening intently to the sound of the howling wind you began to scheme. Something you did best was planning, and this night was no different. You had no idea how long Techno had been like this, if you had the time to curse yourself for avoiding him you would, but for the moment you just needed to make sure he wasn't dead. Slipping from his bedroom and past Phil's you gather a plate of rather light food, knowing he'd get sick if he ate something to heavy.

Stealing one of the Piglins cloaks you shield the food with your arms as you sneak our of the house. You knew Philza only had your best interest at heart, but he should have known better then to tell you your friend was in danger. Especially when that friend was less then a brisk walk away. By the time you get to the false wall your already shivering, the wind nipping at anything it could get at. Your nose was already beginning to run as you hit the disguised button and the wall drops.

At first you see nothing, the darkness and the snow fall blinding you to the scene in front of you. Stepping into what little shelter the cave provided you struggled to steady yourself after stepping on what looked to be the remains of a netherite chestplate. Hung up on the fact that he broke netherite with supposedly his bare hands you don't realize the Piglin lunging at you until your buried in the snow. Plates long discarded and broken you stare the husk of the man you knew in his wild eyes.

Almost like you could read the voices chants of your demise in the pools of ebony fear seemed to strike you harder then his fist. You heard your ribs breaking before you felt them, thank God for adrenaline. You felt nauseous, sick even as you blindly scratch and push at the weight on top of you. Grabbing a tusk by its base you pull left as hard as you can, taking his moment of unbalance to scramble away. Your hands grope for any sort of hold in the snowbank, desperate to get away from the beast on top of you. You dont make it far however before claws tear at the clothes and skin around your ankles, pulling you towards them with little care. Your screams of pain and/or fear are cut short by clawed hands tightening around your throat. Your pathetically small ones meet his, scratching desperately at the exposed hand with one while the other grabs a fist full of snow and smashes it into his face.

The white of the snow falling around you seemed denser then before, you felt cold, to your very bone under him. Under his stare. You've looked death before in the eyes, more then on one occasion, and you had never remembered them being so beautiful. For a split second you swear you hear another voice being carried by the wind, peeling your tear welled eyes from the piglin on top of you the fall towards the direction of the cabin, then at the shards of netherite. You had looked death in the eyes before, and you had yet to die. You weren't going to now.

Grabbing the shard and effectively slicing your hand open in the process you blindly begin to swing. Your chest burns, your skin burns, your vision is beginning to dim to nothing, all you can hear is the wind. Your stabs, or attempts at stabbing does little, with what minuscule amount of consciousness you have in yourself you get one finally blow, to somewhere before you cant feel anything anymore. You had never imagined death to feel so cold.

Technoblade's eyes begin to fall back into focus, pain driving the voices in his head silent as he looks down at the shard of netherite in his arm. More importantly his eyes fall onto a golden ring on the hand belonging to his attacker. A bear etched into its surface. That was Y/N's ring, he had given it to her for christmas. Anger flooding his chest he grinds his teeth, hands tightening around their neck. What right do they have to be wearing your ring? Dark eyes fall back down onto their attacker, bloodied and bruised.. and Y/N. His heart sunk faster then an anvil in a lake, scrambling backwards from your limp body he cant decide whether to look at you or his hands covered in your blood. No, no it couldn't be you, you were.. you were mad at him why would you come up? Why would you attack him?

Crawling to his side he lifted you into his arms, inspecting you closely. This had to be some sort of trick, some sort of lie? No, no you would never attack him you loved him, he loved you! That's why he was like this he was like this because he loved you! Scared lips began to quiver, and tears began to fall and subsequently freeze to his cheeks. No, no, no.

He couldn't think, his mind flooded with the screaming of the voices in his head, begging him to save you, to help you, to hold you. For once in his life he didnt know how, he couldn't save you. He had always been your knight in shining armour, and he cant save you.

He can't save you.

#blood for the blood god #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #dsmp x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader

268 notes · View notes

dovabunny · 1 year ago

Text

Part 8 - Finding You [Finale]

Soap had to slow down, not as familiar with the basement as the rest of the building. He'd lost his walking (running) stick and was now going on a touch to the wall - but there were too many offices and corridors - and he didn't have the bloody time!

So he ran as fast as he dared and called out, till he got a response.

Hearing Simon's voice, even in a shout echoing in the halls, settled a brittle, bruised thing in his soul and gave him renewed fire.

"FOLLOW MY VOICE JOHNNY!"

Like a lighthouse in the darkness, Johnny did.

"How are we on time?" Soap yells back, getting close.

"2 minutes!"

Shitfuck. Soap picks up the pace till he trips over a body and hits the ground hard.

"Johnny! I see you! Just on your left is the doorway. Are you okay?"

Soap shook it off and tried to orientate himself.

"Yes, you're facing me, good!" Simon's voice was like a siren. "Just follow my voice, careful there's more bodies - go left, more left, okay now straight - big step over - there you go, perfect! Just follow my voice, baby."

Even though the crisis was far from over, finding Simon was the main goal in his mind. He wanted to cry - but they had to stay focused.

Simon reached for him when he was close.

"Okay, where's the controls?"

Simon guided him to kneel and put his hand on the control box

It really was like riding a bike, the way he fell back into a mindset he had spent years honing till he was the very best. He carefully ran his fingers over edges and wires, asking Ghost for what colour or label something might have.

"Johnny, there's 30 on the clock."

"Gimme your sharpest, smallest knife," Soap asked, palm up, his other hand on the wire he needed.

He had never been this aware, never been this hyper tuned in to his fine sense of touch to literally see for him.

With the knife he carefully, so so carefully, cut open the cable.

He peeled the colour casing back, then ran his fingers tips over the fine wires until he could feel a small gap where the entwined inner wires split.

"Si, which of these two is copper?"

He could hear Simon's fast shallow breathing, from stress or injury he doesn't know.

"Left one."

"Time?"

"7 seconds."

There was no time to second guess or reassess - without it they're both dead, this was at least a chance.

He lifts the knife slips the blade tip between the two tiny wires, angling up.

"Si, if this doesn't work-"

"It will. I trust you."

Johnny wants to argue, needs to say those words but instead he bites his lip and takes the leap and-

*Snip*

Nothing.

There's nothing.

"Time?"

"...frozen at 1.3 seconds. You did it.... You bloody did it, Johnny!!"

"I... I did it..." Soap sits back on his heels. "I did it..."

He turns to where Ghost was next to him. "We did it." He smiled wide and true, like he had been unable to since Simon left. "You were my eyes, Si. My beacon."

A big rough hand touches his wet cheek, he didn't even realized he started crying. He leans into it and let's the tears fall, wrapping both his around Simon's wrist.

"You were mine first," Simon whispers, his voice low and sweet. "Tell me, what did you want to say?"

Soap laughs in pure elation and relief.

"That I love you. And I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for taking advantage of your kind heart - but I don't want more regrets. So if you're not doing anything on Friday, can I please take you out?"

Simon's low, sweet laugh warms his heart, a soothing balm over frostbit cracks.

"You took the words right out of my mouth, love."

Soft lips met his and it all sunk in. The tears streamed down his cheeks, but he refused to stop kissing his Simon as the reality hit him.

The call, the speeding here, running like a damn maniac on memory and pure Scottish fire to get to Simon. He feels the bruises, the cuts, and the possibly broken bones he didn't even register as he tripped, bumped, and slammed into walls, desks, and stairs.

Worth it.

Ghost pulls back, Soap tastes the smile on his lips one last time before he lets him go, but keeps him close.

"This is Bravo - 07. The bomb has been disarmed. Area secure."

* * *

Ghost and Soap are carried out in stretchers to the cheers of soldiers, police, and civilians. Ghost sees how overwhelmed Soap feels and the sudden noise without Ghost or Roach - so he demands they get the ambulance.

And the same hospital room.

And the same medals of bravery.

And one week after they're discharged, he personally gets them the same rings as well.

By the time he's fully recovered he signs his 'discharge with full honours' papers as 'Simon MacTavish'

The end.

GhostSoap AU Concept - blind love

Soap is an army vet who lost his sight in an explosion. He now works as a masseur, he's good with his hands and his options are limited.

Ghost is a scarred, disfigured man in pain with insecurities he hid behind thick walls and a mask.

Ghost's body is a mess of injuries old and new, he can't even remember what it's like to not be in pain but always pushes through it. That he's getting older doesn't help either.

Until his back locks up mid mission and he's left in pain that has him limping and wincing.

Price has had enough of him dodging the question and actually orders him to get it looked at. Ghost refuses. First, he will not take off his shirt in front of a stranger, and he most certainly will NOT let a stranger touch him.

Price sighs and says he knows just the place.

If it wasn't an order Ghost wouldn't be here, no way in hell. He's just gonna go in, tell the guy to say he was here and leave.

It's a small parlour, if it can even be called that. A small two story building with a tiny waiting room and a door leading to the back.

But it was at the edge of town away from the bustle of the city, the wilderness literally just across the river next to it.

It helped a bit, the place being so out of the way. Ghost appreciated privacy, after all.

There was no one in the waiting room, but the door jingled when he entered. Soon enough a voice yells 'with you in a sec!', accent thick and Scottish.

THAT was unexpected. He was expecting a woman, possibly old and creepy. It helped a little bit more.

Then the door to the back swung open and he lost his breath a little.

The man walks out with a beaming smile, hair in a fkn mohawk that somehow looked great on him, built like a damn rugby player.

But it was his eyes.

A striking deep blue, but clouded.

At Ghost's silence the man's smile is a bit more forced. "I can tell you're there, ya know."

Ghost snapped out of his daze and stuck out his hand in greeting, then felt like a fking idiot and yanked it back. "It's Ghost, I mean, Simon. Price called about me."

"Ah. The lieutenant! Price told me you might be a flight risk," he chuckled, but somehow it didn't feel condescending or cruel as laughter towards him usually was. It was friendly, warm.

He felt entirely off kilter.

"I'm John MacTavish, call me Soap." He stuck out his hand. Ghost took it and shook, feeling callouses on his soft hands.

"Kind of name is Soap?"

Soap smiled. "It was my call sign. Was called by it so long anything else feels odd."

"You're military?"

"Was. Just entered SAS when," he gestures at his eyes with a strained smile.

Ghost didn't know how to respond, which Soap must've picked up on too cause he quickly followed with a "So! Shall we get started?"

Without waiting for a response, Soap walked to the back, Ghost snapping out of it and following after a beat.

He stood in the doorway and looked around. It had soft lighting, soft music from somewhere that sounded almost Celtic, it smelled... Amazing. Gentle and warm, but no distinct scent he could place.

Soap was moving around with precision, washing his hands and putting things ready.

Ghost had fully intended to go through with his plan - pay the masseuse to tell Price he was here then leave. Maybe buy a heat patch form the pharmacy.

But here, now, in this room with Soap - a veteran who'll understand, who can't see how ugly disfigured he is...

He decides to give it a chance. For the first time since he became a dead man, he's going to get out of his shell and try to take care of himself, to stop waiting for his inevitable death and actually work towards getting better.

In the best hands he could wish for.

214 notes · View notes

mrkcore · 4 years ago

Text

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎�� 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐧.𝐣𝐦

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: na jaemin x f!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: jaemin as DC’s nightwing/dick greyson, hero!jaemin

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re the one picking him up, piece by piece, even when you’re gone.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): profanity, character deaths, blood, gun use

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k (woopwoop!)

𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: ghost of you - 5sos, lie to me - 5sos, woke up in japan - 5sos, want you back - 5sos, more - 5sos, better man - 5sos, moving along - 5sos, thin white lies - 5sos, red desert - 5sos, lonely heart - 5sos, high - 5sos (just me being 5 seconds of summer trash)

𝐚/𝐧: part of @nct-writers collab, the heartbreak hotel (this is probably the longest fic i’m ever going to write, so pls gimmie feedback i will love you forever)

“imagine you're watching a runaway trolley barreling down the tracks straight towards five workers who you do not know and can't escape. you happen to be standing next to a switch that will divert the trolley onto a second track. here's the problem. that track has a worker on it, too, just one, but they’re not a stranger. what do you do? do you sacrifice that one person to save five?”

jaemin regrets being the hero in the story.

jaemin regrets everything.

he constantly ponders the situation playing out where he wasn’t the protagonist. people have always said, “a hero would sacrifice you to save the planet, but a villain would sacrifice the planet to save you”. jaemin always thought that was bullshit, but now he knows the despairing truth.

he regrets, he regrets, he regrets. but regret won’t bring you back.

you seemed so sure when you told him to let you go and it’d be okay, it wasn’t his fault. how was it so easy for you to think and say that? not his fault? he was basically the reason you’re dead. he just found you after so many years, now you’re gone again; but this time, it’s for real, forever.

jaemin remembers the cold tiny room he was forced to sleep in with the other children in the circus.

it was a nightmare every single day. with kids screaming, singing, laughing, and running around the room, nobody could get any sleep. what made it worse was that jaemin had no one to talk to.

none of the other boys liked him, being handsome, dubbed the “face of haly’s circus”, always talking behind your back how the boss always favoured him because he was bringing so many more views in. girls swarming around jaemin ever since him and his parents ever joined, it was so obvious that he was the most popular. jaemin never liked the attention, he was only trying to survive after all.

then, you arrived.

y/n, the confounding witch, they called you.

conjuring up little tricks for audience members, brewing up drinks to transform participants into different species of animals, and controlling birds in cages were only a few acts you could do.

the first day boss introduced you to everyone, you seemed so bright and excited to be joining. your unique eye smile, bubbly personality, and caring nature drew jaemin to you. he’s seldomly trying to calm the younger kids down so everyone can rest, but your patience and compassion towards the kids were something they weren’t used to, and eventually caved in.

soon, it became quieter in that god awful room jaemin always dreaded. but jaemin's heart beat louder in his chest than ever.

jaemin was never one to show off. like we established before, the attention jaemin got was not appreciated by him. except, it became different when you arrived.

he was constantly trying to impress you, sway you, hoping the things he did for the crowds of girls that rushed to buy tickets to see him, would work for you too.

however, that was just his wishful thinking.

you were unlike any of the interactions jaemin had with the opposite gender. you were confident, yet humble, witty, intelligent, and easy-going. he is constantly flustered whenever he is engaging in a conversation with you, but tries to act nonchalant whenever he knows you’re nearby.

after shows, girls screamed and bolted towards the entrance where jaemin stood for exit duty, to say goodbye to patrons. he’d always try to be paired with you for it, trying to make you jealous.

but of course that never happened. jaemin would always be trampled by his enthusiastic female supporters, as surges of them stopped to interact with him. flirting with them all at the same time, they all swooned over your charms. he’d always see you giggle, laughing at his bursts of confidence he’d never have with you by yourselves.

this continued for a year, until one day, you let something slip.

“ladies, ladies, i’m so glad you could join us for today.” jaemin smiled at the groups in front of him, glancing at you walking an elderly couple out of the tent. “make sure to take good care of yourselves, wouldn’t want anything happening to any of you sweet gals.” and cue the squeals.

“hope you had fun pretty boy.” you directed to him calmly, as you walked back into the circus. jaemin’s head snapped to stare at your back. he’s stunned, did you just call him a “pretty boy”?

remembering that the crowd in front of him was still there, he reacted quickly.

“i guess it’s time for me to go, i’ll catch you lovely girls at my next show, i hope.” he leaves with a wink, following your path straight towards you.

finding you in your little assigned room, jaemin barged in, gaze fixated right on you, not even thinking what to say.

“oh, jaemin, hey.” you say, not even batting an eye, you’re focused on the book in your hands. “what’s up?”

“you called me pretty boy.” he breathed out.

“yeah i did,” you’re still not paying attention to him. “what about it?”

“you think i’m pretty?” jaemin is suddenly very close to you, his hand caressing your face, lifting your line of sight up to meet his gaze.

his eyes are sparkling, cheeks a slight tint of pink, with a look of determination. of course you thought he was pretty, anyone who said otherwise would either be lying, or have never seen his gorgeous face.

jaemin must’ve been acting impulsively, because when he realized how close he was to your face, he immediately pulled back.

“i am so sorry,” he says in disbelief. “i don’t know what came over me.”

“it’s okay,” you smile at him, grabbing his hand to where it was before. “i liked it.”

jaemin is flustered again, standing completely frozen as he admires your face up close.

you’re breathtakingly beautiful. he’s known that you were attractive, but this just created even more butterflies in his stomach.

“and yes, i do think you’re pretty.” you wink at him.

and that’s where it started.

you and jaemin started spending time together more.

jaemin was still a bit nervous and frenzied at the beginning, but that melted away, and his flirty, outgoing, and annoyingly confident side was revealed to you.

you were also quite popular amongst the other boys in the circus, so when you two were seen more frequently together, they started spreading rumours about jaemin to get you two away from each other.

“oh jaemin’s just trying to use them.”

“jaemin thinks after getting with them, he’s going to cross all of the names off his list.”

“he’s such a player, y’n’s too good for him.”

of course you’d hear them more often than him, the guys would always say these kinds of things around you.

but you know they’re just trying to stir up trouble. so you ignore them.

just like how jaemin ignores the talk about you amongst his female supporters.

“she’s trying to take him away from us.”

“he’s not as happy anymore.”

“she thinks she’s all that, he’s probably just a new notch in her belt.”

of course jaemin would never listen to them. they’d never know about the secrets you had together, sneaking out of your rooms and sitting on the roof at night stargazing, your note exchanging, late night talks; they knew none of that.

“i wish things weren’t like this,” you sighed, leaning on his shoulder as you two look at the early sunrise. “i wish we could be free and do whatever we want. this is so unfair.”

jaemin has never really thought about that. every day, his head was flooded with you. but now he thinks about it, it truly was unfair.

jaemin wishes he could take you on on real dates, take you on meaningful trips to explore the rest of the world. not hidden in this awful place where you could barely talk to each other in public. jaemin wishes he could give you more.

“it’s not your fault nana,” you look up at him like you’ve read his mind and know he’s overthinking. “there’s nothing you can do.”

“yeah,” jaemin exhales. “i know.” he tries to smile when you reach up to caress his face, you look at him with so much fondness, jaemin’s worries are almost all blown away. but you know he’s going to be pondering about this for the next week.

“maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our wicked fate.”

but all the gossip got to the point where the boss heard about it, and asked you guys to talk in his office.

“i think we should end it here.” you say one night on the roof, seemingly out of the blue.

“what?” jaemin is speechless, where did that come from? did he hear you wrong?

“he literally asked us to talk,” you’re facing the ground, not even daring to look at him. “it’s serious this time.”

“so you’re going to just throw all of this away?” jaemin asks, slightly furious. “just because of what a bunch of losers are saying?”

“it’s for the best,” you’re still not looking at him. “for the both of us.”

when you finally do look up to see jaemin’s reaction, you see tears in his eyes and you wish you hadn’t looked up.

“fine, if that’s what you want.” jaemin turns around and walks away, breaking that silence.

but what jaemin didn’t know was that it broke your heart to pieces. it took you so much courage to break it off with him, but in the end, you knew what boss haly was capable of. you needed to protect him, so if this is how it needed to go, it’s for the best.

the meeting the next day went smoothly, it was easy for both of you to deny everything since jaemin was giving you the cold shoulder. you didn’t need to pretend. it was for the sake of the both of you.

after the meeting, you didn’t get the chance to talk to jaemin as he rushed to get ready for his special act today. but it’s not like he would listen to you anyways, you couldn’t blame him.

you felt the aura of the circus today, it felt off. very off.

maybe it was because you were so shaken by you and jaemin's fight. maybe it was nothing, and you were just overreacting. everything was probably fine.

except it wasn’t.

as all of the spectators settled into their seats, when you tried to peak through the curtain to see the turnout, and as expected, it was packed.

but something catches your eye. a black raven flies in, the ambience in the tent suddenly changes so fast if gives you whiplash. this isn’t good. this isn’t good at all. something bad is going to happen, really bad.

you’ve never seen that bird in your entire life, and it suddenly hits you.

someone is going to die tonight.

you pray and pray it’s going to be fine, but the unsettling energy gets to you. you need to tell someone.

“jaemin, jaemin!” you call out to him. he turns around, but when he sees you, his face turns sour. your heart sinks, but what you’re about to tell him is more important, so you brush it away.

“what do you want.” he snarls, you gulp back a sob.

“something bad’s going to happen, i can feel it.” tears are threatening to spill out of you eyes. “someone’s going to die, and i don’t know what to do.”

“oh, so now you care?” jaemin rolls his eyes. “are you jealous that it’s my show tonight and all of those girls front row are here to see me and think they have a chance with me?” you’re shocked by his words, your eyes are wide. you never thought he was capable of saying something like that. “you’re just a little witch, and it’s all just an act. let it go.” tears stream down your face as jaemin huffs and walks away, strutting into the crowd as the ringmaster announces their act: “the flying greysons!”.

and jaemin was wrong. you were right. something awful happened that day.

jaemin watches helplessly as his parents’ high wires snaps and they pummel to their death.

you were right. and he couldn’t do anything about it.

jaemin runs away that night as he leaves you in that horrible place by yourself, and you never see him again.

and here jaemin is. 10 years after the incident, a college student by day, leader of a crime fighting superhero team by night.

after the incident of his parents’ death, mr. jung jaehyun finds him on his path. crying, sobbing, and vulnerable. jaehyun takes jaemin in under his wing. providing him shelter, food, and as much support as he could. jaemin slowly realized jaehyun’s second identity: batman.

jaemin has heard of jaehyun’s street name. but he’d never thought that he’d meet him in real life, and batman would be someone so similar to him. jaehyun saw a reflection of his younger self, the grief of losing your parents, the reality check of the world being a cruel place at a young age, he didn’t want jaemin to spiral in the same way he did.

so even though jaemin lived a life of normalcy, his past never stopped coming back to haunt him.

especially you.

jaehyun dug up some information about the circus, and piles and piles of their dark secrets were revealed. so did the truth of jaemin’s parents’ deaths too. how a well-known and feared crime-lord, threatened the circus unless the owner paid extortion money. boss haly refused, and that night someone messed with the equipment for the performance, resulting in the catastrophe.

you were right all along, and jaemin didn’t listen to you. it was his fault, everything was his fault.

he even left you there by yourself, all alone, and he never got to say goodbye. oh how wishes he could see you one last time, and say all those things he wanted to these years.

nightmares woke him throughout elementary school, middle school, high school, and even sometimes during his college time.

the same dream over and over, you reaching your hand out for jaemin to grab and save, but he’s too far away. and you fade away.

inspired by what jaehyun did to help him, jaemin started to do the same.

with a bunch of lost and uncared for young kids in new york, jaemin took them under his wing like jaehyun did with him.

with help from trusted individuals he met on the street, mark, renjun, jeno, and haechan, they started to take care of chenle and jisung full time. getting them off the street, given proper shelter, food, water, clean clothes, and access to education, this was the start of the dreamies.

today was the same as any other.

jaemin’s philosophy and law studies class has just finished up and he’s walking to his favourite cafe to finish up some work.

“jaemin?” he hears a familiar voice behind him.

he turns around and sees you. you haven’t changed a bit, still as homely and comforting as he can remember.

is he in a dream right now? how is this possible?

“oh gosh, it really is you.” you laughed, the same laugh you had. jaemin feels this unknown warmth and reassurance with you here, like a weight has just been lifted off his shoulders.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. your eyes glimmer, looking at him affectionately.

“yep, right here in the flesh.” jaemin starts tearing up. “oh you big baby, why are you crying?”

jaemin pulls you in as he hugs your waist.

surprised by his emotional state, you were going to speak up again. but you choose not to. standing there, a bit awkwardly, stroking his soft hair, embracing him.

and you’re back.

jaemin learns that you recently moved to new york city recently for your journalist job position, and you’re looking for a place to move in to.

he’s quick to offer his place, even though he’s still in college, his apartment is big enough for two people.

“are you sure?” you’re hesitant to accept his suggestion. “i don't want to be a big burden. you’re probably really busy as a student.”

“no, i’m fine.” he responds, enthusiastically. “my schedule is pretty much free since i’m third year now.”

and you accept. saying you’re only going to crash for a while until you found another place.

cherishing the time you had together, during the day, jaemin went to his lectures while you went to work, but when you got home, you did everything together. to the point where jaemin barely saw the dreamies, his crime-fighting crew.

staying up to watch the stars and sunrise, talking and laughing until your eyes were threatening to close. conversing about literally anything.

but as time went by, you noticed that jaemin didn’t really want to talk about what happened back at the circus. you understood since he lost his parents that night, but he never asked you about how you left and ended up in new york. but you don’t push it, you understand that it’s a rough patch in both of you guys’ lives.

“do you have anything that you regret?” you ask one night, you truly were just curious.

“not listening to you that night.” he says, monotone. “and leaving you by yourself at the circus when i ran away.”

“jaemin…” you start, but no words leave your mouth.

“fuck!” jaemin abruptly exclaims, mood crashing, turning furious. “it’s all that bastard haly’s fault.”

you shouldn’t have asked.

“if he didn’t make that fucking circus, everything would have been fine! it’s his fault, all his fault, i’m going to get revenge and kill that son-of-a-bitch one day!” he’s yelling now. “we could have met in normal circumstances, we could’ve gotten married, created a family, enjoyed life like all of these snarky city folk. why?”

you wipe the tears that are rolling down his face as he turns to cry in your chest.

“i’m sorry i brought this up.” you pat his head as his sobs turn into soft snores, head in your lap. “maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.”

it’s been a year now. it doesn’t seem like you’re moving out anytime soon, but jaemin’s not complaining. he loves having you here, you’ve become a standard part of his day.

with jaemin more adapted to your appearance, he has started to become more involved with the dreamies.

helping 10-15 kids each month, the squad has advanced to milestones jaemin never thought it’d be at. he is so thankful to have the group and you there supporting him.

you’ve even discussed marriage.

“y/n na has a nice ring to it, y’know.” jaemin beams.

“you’re such a softie.” you giggle out, but jaemin knows you like it.

jaemin knows you want to wait until you have a stable job and when he graduates, but the thought always makes him elated.

“what song would you play for our first dance at out wedding?” he asked one morning, waking up to the sun shining heavenly on you.

“hmm,” you grin. “best part, daniel caesar, h.e.r.”

“you’re perfect.” jaemin kisses your face as you cuddle into his warm chest.

imagining you in a white dress, walking up to the alter on your wedding day, saying your vows, slow dancing. you’re the only person jaemin has visioned a future with, and the only person jaemin wants a future with.

the next day, you agree to slow dance with him in the living room.

jaemin is on cloud nine.

but like the old saying, all good things must come to an end.

it’s been 5 years now.

jaemin comes home one night to the apartment door open, which is really unusual.

jaemin thinks it might be a robbery, but nothing is stolen, the apartment looked the same as it was when he left this morning.

but you’re nowhere to be found. jaemin isn’t panicked, maybe you went on a walk and forgot to close the door–

there’s a note on the dining room table.

“meet me on the top of the empire state building to see y/n, if you bring someone else, it’ll be for the last time.”

what is that supposed to mean?

was it one of the dreamies’ past enemies trying to get back at them?

nonetheless, jaemin is bolting out the door.

when he gets there, he sees the dreamies tied up, sitting and struggling at the feet of someone jaemin never thought he’d see ever again. c.c. haly, the owner of haly’s circus jaemin escaped a whole decade ago.

haly smirks as he sees jaemin approaching, but jaemin is scowling.

“what are you doing here?” jaemin snaps out, carefully advancing.

“i’m here to finish what you started.” haly says.

“how did you even find me?” jaemin snarls, stopping a fair distance between him and haly. “how did you find my friends?”

unexpectedly, haly starts to cackle loudly at his questions. turning around to reveal someone who has been absent, someone jaemin would never have thought of.

you.

jaemin’s mind is internally crashing. why are you with haly? what is going on?

“y/n, do you want to explain to our dear jaemin here what’s going on?” haly finds so much amusement playing with you both, watching this event unfold.

“jaemin, i’m so sorry.” your lips are trembling, tears are starting to flood your vision.

“so it was all a lie?” jaemin can’t believe it. “everything that happened this year, it was just you building up to just stab me in the back?”

“i did it to protect you.” you’re sobbing hard now.

“save it.” jaemin cuts you off, now focusing on haly. “what do you want.”

“i want you dead.” haly says, blankly.

“so what’s the deal.” the dreamies’ mouths were duct taped, but their muffled cries can still be heard.

haly is howling again.

“i get to kill you,” haly grins sinisterly. “and i let y/n and your little friends free.”

“if jaemin says yes, let me say one last thing to him.” your crying has stopped. “it’s the least you can do.”

jaemin is confused. are you just offering him up to haly with no fight? what are you thinking?

you look at him with pleading eyes, asking him to trust you.

the same eyes he saw that day his parents died, and he knows to trust you.

“okay,” jaemin states boldly. “i say yes. now let y/n talk to me.”

haly is stunned. how did you convince jaemin to agree so quick? maybe haly was right to use you this time. the least he could do is to let jaemin and you have time to still pretend to be in love. so haly allows you to walk up to jaemin to talk.

“y/n, what are you doing.” jaemin whispers frantically.

“trust me, trust me this time.” you glance at him with weary eyes. “when i’m walking back to haly, when i signal to you, i want you to grab your friends and run. can you do that for me?”

“what?” jaemin tries not to react to much that haly catches on, but do you hear what you’re suggesting? “you want me to just leave you here again?”

“jaemin listen to me, i’ll be fine. trust me.”

and you turn around, not letting jaemin respond.

there’s nothing he can do but go along with your plan.

and when you signal to him behind your back, jaemin grabs the dreamies and drags them away. everything is a whirlwind and happens in a flash. jaemin looks back and you’re struggling trying to get the gun out of haly’s hand.

you notice jaemin stopping.

“jaemin, fucking RUN.” you scream at him.

there’s nothing he can do. and he hates himself that he got himself in this situation again. so he runs again, like the coward he is.

jaemin runs, because literally the dreamies’ lives are depending on him. when he gets them to safety, when he unties jeno, jeno pushes him towards where they came from.

“go.” jeno is huffing trying to catch his breath after removing the duct tape off his mouth. “i’ll untie everyone else, go get her.”

jaemin looks at jeno, and turns back for you.

when jaemin arrives back at the scene, you’re on the ground. he runs panic-stricken to you, finding you bleeding out really hard.

“y/n? y/n, y/n please, are you okay?” he’s shaking you, distraught seeing you in this state.

“jaemin, i’m okay.” you say, barely any breath left in you. “i have the gun here, haly is behind the big box over there.”

“y/n, what are you talking about, we need to get you to the hospital.” jaemin tries to pick you up but you don’t allow him.

“use the gun and kill him.” you mutter out, quieter than before. “it’s what you wanted, jaemin. and he’ll be gone.” you’re smiling softly just thinking about it.

“y/n, are you insane? you’re going to die i could care less about haly, i’m taking you to the hospital–”

“jaemin let me go.” you mumble, stroking his cheek while you’re examining his pretty face for the last time. “it’ll be okay, it’s not your fault.”

“y/n…” jaemin’s tears are staining his shirt as he holds you tightly, trying to preserve your life.

“i love you, na jaemin.” a tear falls from your dazed gaze and trickles down your cold face. “i’m sorry that this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.”

and you’re gone.

jaemin screams. tears dripping down his face, he picks up the gun beside you and storms towards haly.

he’s basically sitting in a pool of his own blood and has no strength to get up anymore.

“is little greyson here to get revenge for his parents and little witch y/n?” he cackles even in the last moments of his life.

“yeah i am, they didn’t die for you to see another day too.”

haly is laughing sadistically again as if jaemin just told a joke, but the laughter subsides after the bullets fire through haly’s limp body.

and he’s dead too. leaving jaemin alone, again.

it’s been 2 years since you’ve died.

here he is, waking up. still can’t sleep on your side.

he really can’t sleep on your side, because it reminds him of those times where he woke up to your warm embrace, and now it’s desolately cold.

there’s your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time.

he’s saved everything you had, and hasn’t touched anything. he’s also saved everything you shared, your bed, your apartment, everything. he needs those to remind him of those bittersweet memories of you.

when jaemin was going through your stuff, he finds a piece of paper on your work desk.

my dear jaemin,

when you find this, i’m probably going to be gone. but that’s okay, and i’ll tell you why.

first of all, thank you so much for these past 5 years. thank you for showing me what living life is like, what being a part of a family is like, and what being in love is like. you told me you wished you could give me a normal life, and you really fulfilled your wish.

you must have so many questions right now, so i’m going to answer them.

i never left haly’s after you ran away. i couldn’t. because he was threatened by so many mobs and gangs everywhere, he had to kill off the other people that were a part of the circus. but he kept me. because i was the key to you. the government started an investigation into him, and he needed to keep a low-profile, but he still was angry that you didn’t die that night too. so he plotted this for years, and i just had to go along with it.

at first, i only agreed because i wanted to see you. i was young and still naive at the time, thinking that he wanted to see you too. but as i got older, i saw what he was planning. he would kill me in front of you and then take you out as well if i didn’t do as he said, so i kept quiet. i really did this to protect you.

i enjoyed every second being with you. you showed me the meaning of life i heard our patrons talk about. you showed me what true love was when i saw those elderly couples walking together as they look at each other adoringly while telling me they’ve been in love and married for decades. if i could choose to stay with you for a lifetime, i would, i would choose it a million times.

but i thought very long about this, and it truly is the only way.

remember when i asked you if you regretted anything that night? you mentioned how you regretted not listening to me, how you left me alone at the circus. and that’s when i realized, it was indeed our cruel fate.

you feel bad for me. you feel bad that you didn’t listen, you feel bad for leaving me at the circus, but it’s been over a decade. i know with me constantly here, you’re never going to stop feeling guilty, you’d never let the past go. we’re too young, too dumb, to know things like love. but i know better now.

so jaemin, i did what i had to do. the best for the both of us. you got your revenge for your parents, and you’ll stop feeling guilty because i don’t want to hold you back and keep you feeling like this forever.

i’m sorry jaemin i put you through all of this, and reminder that this is not your fault.

my love, nana, truly, truly, truly, thank you for everything. everything, everything, everything.

there wasn’t a single day where i stopped wanting you. i want you in the most innocent form, i want to say goodnight to you and give you forehead kisses and say i love you when you feel at your worst. i want you in ways where i just want to be next to you and nothing more or less. i wish i could explain your eyes, oh how i adore your angel eyes, and how the sound of your voice gives me butterflies. how your smile makes my heart skip a beat and how every time i’m with you, i feel so complete. i swear when our lips touched, i could taste the remaining years of my life. i want you to know that when i picture myself happy, it’s with you.

i’ve looked at you in millions of ways, and i have loved you in every way.

but this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.

my pretty boy, i love you forever.

his tears are ruining the page, and jaemin tries to wipe his tears away to save the letter.

when he turns around, he swears he can see you. and he chases it down, with a shot of truth.

maybe if he dreams long enough, you’d tell him he’d be just fine.

walking into the living room, remembering how you guys would slow dance like it was your wedding. your wedding.

and he drowns it out, like he always does. dancing through your house, with a shot of truth, that his feet don’t dance, like the way they did with you.

jaemin knows your letter was right, he’s going to slowly get better, but he needs some time. meanwhile, he needs something help him cope, to get him by.

so he’s dancing through your house, with the ghost of you.

154 notes · View notes

lilmissbacon · 4 years ago

Text

Why Jelsa is Ridiculously Stupid

Let me start off by saying that the idea of this ship was cute at first, I have nothing against it. In fact I have a few ships myself that have nothing to back them up. I am not making this to convince people to be anti, stop the ship itself, or spread any form of hate what so ever.

But this Jelsa fandom has gone too far. And when I say "jelsa shippers," of course I don't mean ALL of them, just about 80% of them.

In fact, I'm very appreciative of the few jelsa shippers who don't go around harassing others because "jelsa is life."

Also, allow me to correct you in saying that I'm not a jelsa hater, I'm a jelsa loather. There's a difference. Most jelsa haters, hate jelsa for the sake of hating it.

I genuinely hate it.

And don't go commenting about, "how do you know you don't like it if you've never tried it?" Because you see, that's where you're wrong. I did used to ship it, when I was 11. I was a child, I was new to the internet, I didn't know better. But I do now!

I am writing this so that some who may not know, will now understand why jelsa is bad and because I need to get all of this out of my system. I am slowly dieing inside.

First; I'm gonna go into how all the excuses to ship this are pointless. Next, I'll talk about just how these two would never work out as a couple. Then, will be what the toxicity has done to not just to the ship itself, but to the big four as well. And finally, I'll go into how uncreative the shippers are and just what horrible/stupid things they've done and are still doing.

1) Excuses are Pointless

Excuse #1: They have the same powers.

...Yeah, that's like saying you ship Lavagirl (Sharboy and Lavagirl) and Bolin (LoK) because they can both control lava. That's not a valid reason to ship anyone. There needs to be actual substance and I'll only say that once because that sentence applies to every excuse here.

Excuse #2: They look alike

🤦🤦🤦 First of all: that's also like saying you ship Tiana (Princess and the Frog) and Frozone (The Incredibles) because they're both black. Second of all: no they don't. It may be because I'm an artist so I notice small details, but here's how it is; Jack's hair is white, Elsa's is platinum blonde. Jack has a square chin, Elsa has a round face. Jack is much paler! THEIR EYES AREN'T EVEN THE SAME SHADE OF BLUE!!! Your excuse is null and void. Even so, if characters do look alike, then they're most likely to be related. Especially in animation.

Excuse #3: Jack can teach Elsa to have fun and Elsa can teach Jack to be serious

This clearly proves the point that jelsa shippers don't know these characters. The job of teaching Elsa how to be social and have fun is already taken by Anna. So if anything, Elsa will see Jack as a younger brother. And Jack wouldn't have been chosen to take on such a responsibility of guardianship if he didn't know when to quit. I don't know what it is about playful characters that make people think they're obnoxious. Jack is an immortal teenager with the heart of a child, that's what makes him a good guardian. But he's been alive for over 300 years, he bound to have the mind capacity of an adult and he does know better. He doesn't play when he's in battle, he's dead serious.

Excuse #4: They understand each other because they were both isolated for a long time

I don't know where you come from but people don't really "bond" over their trauma. Infact, if anything, that would make the relationship more unstable. Plus, Elsa isolated herself for 13 years because she was afraid of her powers. Jack was forced into isolation for 300 years! He has never been afraid of his powers and Elsa could still be seen throughout the day by parents and servants. They would never be able understand what the other went through.

Excuse #5: They both have a sister they love

SO WHAT?! At least half of the population have sisters. Simple as that. It's a horrible excuse.

Excuse #6: They both have an enemy in fear

Bruh, almost every fictional character has to deal with their fears, literal or mental. It's not at all unique to these two.

Excuse #7: Jack can teach Elsa to control her powers

She already has control of them by the end of the movie. And even if you mean prier to that, the reason she couldn't control them was because she feared them. I doubt that even if she could see him and if he showed her his powers, she's be irrational, believing that their powers were different.

Excuse #8: William Joyce says he ships it

Really, you're going to base the possibility of a ship because the writer of the 'books' that "inspired" rotg says he likes it. First: the books and movie are not the same worlds. Two: he most likely stated this in order for jelsa shippers to shut up to him about it. And three: his own canon with the books is a mess as it is. With him adding a bunch on random/unnecessary details on twitter that have no relevance or reference in the books. Even if he does ship it, everything that's going on with Jack's character in the books is weird enough as it is. Plus he's physically 14 in the books. I know age doesn't really matter but Elsa would definitely feel weird about dating someone who looks so young when she's currently 24 by the second movie.

Excuse #9: They could've met before the events of rotg

Not a reason to ship them but whatever 🙄 Even if their stories were based in the same world (which it isn't), Elsa never would've believed in fairy tales. Having to grow up so soon and all. She believes in magic, of course, but you need to believe in the individuals themselves in order to see them. Plus it is very clear in rotg that Jamie is Jack's first believer.

Excuse #10: Now that Frozen 2 is out, they are both spirits who followed the memories of their loved ones. They can live forever together!

Once AGAIN, how does this factor to them being a good couple? Plus the title of spirit is different in the Frozen-verse than the Guardian-verse. Guardian-verse; they are un-aging beings who keep the entire world in balance. Frozen-verse; never confirmed to be immortal (especially since 3 out of 5 spirits are inanimate objects), magical things that keep a single forest secure. The only reason the elements needed a fifth spirit was most likely because the one before Elsa died of old age. Plus the idea of Elsa outliving Anna goes against the theme of sisterly love that both movies strive on. This can be changed in fanfiction but I hate how people lie about her mortality for an excuse to ship.

Excuse #11: They're both single

So what? People ship characters who aren't single with other characters all the time. That's not a reason to ship them. Especially since your statement is false because Tooth is Jack's canon love interest.

It is true that jelsa haters will give reasons to not ship that I necessarily don't agree with.

•Like the age gap — Jack has the mental capacity of an adult, as I've said before. He's smart enough to make his own choices.

•Elsa not being immortal — that doesn't mean they can't still date, even if he outlives her. Plus you can change that in fanfiction.

•They come from different studios and will never be canon — Again, this is fanfiction, we can do whatever we want.

•Elsa is independent and shipping her with someone takes her independence away — for one: most of the world is bound to find love at some point in time. I would imagine that Elsa would want to find love like her sister. Two: Mulan, Pocahontas and Jasmine are very independent and they all still ended up with men. Three: she's not that independent to begin with. Independence isn't relationship status, it's your ability to make it on your own and Elsa is clearly, very dependant on Anna and her safety. Which is actually what pushes her to being a bad sister in Frozen 2. In fact it is because they made her more 'independant' in the sequel that Elsa clearly, no longer loves Anna as much as Anna loves her (you can check out Watso Videos' video on YouTube about how Elsa is a bad sister bc I'm not gonna go into it here).

My god that was ALL just part one. This is gonna take forever 😰

2) How they would never work out

For Elsa, she needs someone who is calm and collected. A rock for her to stand on when she's being irrational. Possibly even someone who is very stoic and straight to the point but with enough sense of humor to lighten the mood. And now that I'm thinking about it, Honeymaren fits that description to a tee. I'm not one to push LGBT+ in anyone's face, but I'm not gonna judge ships on characters assumed sexualities either. Even though Honeymaren didn't have much screen time, her personality still showed through and Elsamaren could very well work.

Jack on the other hand needs someone who would be able to keep up with his playful nature as well as be a rock for him to stand on when he's emotional. Tooth is a good suitor even though I don't really ship it myself. Hiccup, Merida and Rapunzel could also fit in this description.

They don't have the ability to be each other's rocks. They can't be stable if they both need someone to keep them so. If they were to date, the relationship would crumble before it even began.

Plus Jack has to be a guardian and there are a lot of fanfics that go into this idea of Jack being the king of Arendalle? First off: I'm fairly certain that you can't marry into royalty to become king. At least in the real world. Second: Jack wouldn't be able to handle that responsibility with him already being a guardian. And he can't just leave guardianship either, it was what he always was and was ment to be. And Elsa has the responsibility of keeping a magical forest in check, she can't leave to become a guardian.

3) The Toxicity

Oh my God! The fanfiction! As I usually say, you can do whatever you want in fanfiction. But if you have to butcher all the characters so much in EVERY fanfic in order to make the ship work, then there's clearly something wrong here! In every fanfic I've ever seen, the characters are so out of character it's insane. Not just Jack and Elsa, every character.

Olaf for example, is practically in love with Jack first meeting, in every fanfic. If he were to actually meet Jack, he would be apprehensive of him.

It's horrifying in not only that, but jelsa shippers will add Rapunzel a lot, just in spite of Jackunzel. They turn Rapunzel into a needy ex-girlfriend of Jack's when in reality, she's a very sweet and kind soul. Even if she and Jack had dated, they would've split on good terms and stayed friends after. There have also been cases where they do the same but with Tooth. Sometimes even both and it's honestly sick.

And let's talk about the sexism as well HAHA! I swear to God, they will rewrite Frozen but where Jack will save Elsa instead of Anna. They write Elsa as a hormonal teenage girl who falls in love with Jack within seconds.

This is from an actual jelsa shipper, my dude. WTF!!! They make Jack super dominant as well as a douche who cheats on Elsa half the time. Jack is not that dominant, he's a very emotional guy. And he'd be the most faithful boyfriend on the planet. He was alone for 300 years! If anything, he'd be clingy but not too clingy because he also understands personal space.

And if you like angsty fanfiction where a character cheats on the other, there are literally no fanfics where Elsa cheats on Jack. As if a woman couldn't possibly cheat. This is very sexist towards men and women and is toxic as hell.

If anything, Elsa would cheat on Jack, she's not exactly trustworthy in keeping promises or being loyal.

I swear, half of the jelsa shippers has never even seen rotg and just go by what they read in others fanfiction.

Jelsa shippers have gotten so bad about this ship that they've low-key harassed people for not shipping it, as well as start shipping wars within the big four fandom. That's the reason the fandom truly shrunk after 2013. I've seen posts about people admitting to leaving the fandom because it got so bad.

4) The Shippers

Jelsa shippers have literally threatened lives, not just to other fans but even to the creators of the movies. Literally threatening them into making the ship canon. They've made patitions to make it canon as if that would work. They've even harassed a lot of recent shippers to Elsamaren because "jelsa is canon."

Oh look at that, they're homophobic too...

...

... That's great 🙃

Isn't it a bigger sin to love a celestial being though? Therefore the fact that you –as a toxic christian– ship Elsa with a spirit it worse.

THEY'RE DELUSIONAL!!! So many of them have shipped jelsa so long that legit think it's canon!

Not only all that mess but there are literally more jelsa games on the internet then there are Merida games. I'm specifying this for personal reasons (aka Merida is my fave Disney princess)

And let's continue on with what really aggravates me as an artist. Jelsa shippers, stealing artwork, mostly from Jackunzel. This is not just a rumor, it's very much real.

And it doesn't help when all of their actual original fanart is just them taking scenes from Frozen and adding Jack. Then to add more salt on the wound is that almost all the fanfiction is the same, whether it'd be based during Frozen, rotg or in a highschool au.

There's literally nothing original about or going on with this ship, even after Frozen 2 came out, the shippers and fanfiction haven't changed. If anything it made the shippers spike up again.

The only thing that could say is original about jelsa is the frost daughter fanon. Oh boy! What we have to unpack here.

This is something that I recently heard about...

...

I am mortified.

Frost daughters is this little thing that jelsa shippers came up with, believing Jack and Elsa (if they could get pregnant) would have nothing but girls. What's scary about it is they're designs. Like they're trying to be original... But it's not really going great.

Most of them are just young!Elsa copies, some are edits of Elsa with Jack's hair color.

For example:

This is fine, this follows genetrical rules. I'm fine with this.

But what has me low-key petrified are some of the other designs.

Like... WTF IS ALL OF THIS!!! Where are this colors coming from?!! I don't understand 😭 You can see in the screen shots that these are literally titled as daughters of jelsa.

The white haired ones are fine. The ginger is understandable. Got it from Elsa's dad's genes. That's okay. A few are wearing pink? They can wear what ever they want. But wtf I'd going on with Nevada? Why is she black? Jack and Elsa the pastiest of white! And you cannot tell me that she got it from Elsa's mom because this was made BEFORE Frozen 2 and her mother is still white as an adult.

Where tf does the blue and pink hair come from? None of these make sense!

I want to kill myself, just looking at these!

That's gonna be the end of this rant

Now I'll say it again, I really have nothing against the ship itself. I too have casual ships that make no sense. But with ALL the fanfiction and fanart being so unoriginal and most jelsa shippers low-key being dangerous, it's hard for me respect people's opinions about it.

I try, trust me, I do! But it's become so murky in my brain that I can't tell the difference anymore and I'm also just not a fan of Elsa's character in general. And I like ships that actually make sense.

And being that I'm an equalist... it's really hard for me to look at this stuff and not get pissed off. I'm sorry if all of this comes off as aggressive because it kinda is.

I'm just very passionate, okay?

I hope you understand where I'm coming from. None of the pictures I used are mine. And I hope you have a good day?

#anti jelsa #antijelsa #jack frost #anti elsa #DreamWorks #disney #ships #hate jelsa #the big five

165 notes · View notes

guigz1-coldwar · 3 years ago

Text

'Breakthrough' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Breakthrough"

"The following fight you will do is going to be inside of you, Yirina."

Chapter Summary : As her worst fears became real because of Stitch & Freya, Yirina is forced to relive the same implanted memories she was given by Adler but she need to stay strong to win....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3300

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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

I couldn't resist, I couldn't fight to avoid this to happen again....my worst fear came to life this day and if it wasn't the CIA this time, it was now much worse with Stitch in command of the whole thing. All he needed to do was to put me on that stretcher, forcing Park to watch me suffer on it while everyone around was witnessing the whole thing : Freya...and also Dedov, Zasha's brother. He was certainly brainwashed by him as he wasn't able to recognize me and Stitch stepped in to avoid me to talk more...until he pronounced the phrase....

My body was in an little pain when I opened back my eyes in an slowly way, my head hurting me behind and feeling that I was something that was reversed. When my eyes were fully operational, I could see that I was in an crashed Huey while sounds of fighting all around me was getting heard all over the place. It was just me...only me in that chopper, the pilots were dead and the others did already left the wreck before me. I removed the belt that was attaching me to one of the seat before my body went almost limp as I got away.

"Fuck, my head." I grunted in pain after that little fall from my seat, holding my left hand behind my head as I crawled to the only opened door of the Huey, finding that I was at almost 5 meters from the ground.

"Bell !" An voice came into my head. As I thought first to be Adler, it turns out to be Stitch himself, he was the master of my actions. "You crashed down but you didn't hesitate any second, you jumped out of the wreck." He said as I was watching down and unfortunately, I had to follow his orders.

"Shit." I muttered before I could jump out of the Huey but I was nearly going to fall with my head first on the ground. I managed however to fall on my feets but I was like pinned down. "Damnit !" I almost shouted after I nearly got killed by that fall.

"Bell, take this !" An american soldier arrived near me, holding an M16A1 in his left hand, another in the right one.

"Thanks." I told him, taking the gun in hands.

"Come on, let's show this viet-congs what are capable of." He nodded at me as he was going to walk back into the battlefield but the first thing he saw was an viet-cong soldier charging at him with an bayonet strapped on an AK-47 and bad for him as he was hit by the soldier at the chest but I shot 3 bullets in retaliation against the enemy but it was too late to save the american.

"You took his M16 and you joined your brothers-in-arms to neutralize the ambush the viet-congs did against you." Stitch spoke up, causing me to move without disobeying his orders as I joined up an cover with another american soldier.

"Heartbeats is fine for the moment, sir !"

"Good, let's continue the memory."

"Bell, good to see that you're went out alive." The soldier I was next to me in cover taunted me, looking at him with curiosity inside of me.....what am I doing ?....."Bell, you're here ?" He demanded, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

"Yeah, I'm here." I broke away from my thoughts, regaining consciousness of the situation.

"These viet-congs are blocking the way for you to get to that bunker, help us for that and go for your objective." He suggested, putting his hand on my left shoulder.

"And what about any supports ?" I questioned him, getting out of cover to fire some bullets on an few soldiers that attempted to charge us. "I don't have support ?"

"You got this, Bell." The man told me with an suspicious grin as he fired away with his M16.

I don't know how I could feel about all of this, it was so real but also so fake at the same time as I realize that I couldn't let myself get hit by an bullet or trying anything stupid. Like this american soldier said, I had to help those men to eliminate the viet-congs for me and I did. I could have let them like that but I'm not like that. It took us only 2 minutes to get rid of the enemy presence in the sector and everyone was cheering for that victory...not me....

"Come on, your path is free !" The same man told me and I had to comply but to go alone in that dirt path that was going deeply inside the jungle.

"Good, you're following the orders, continue !" Stitch expressed, hearing his voice through my head as I arrived near an crossroads....the same one I was faced....one to the left leading to the jungle and an village, the middle inside an old temple and the right one, leading to the river. "The russian bunker were on your right by the river, you need to take that path." He ordered as I was staying still in the middle of crossroads.

"Go fuck yourself !" I cursed, trying to break the control that he has over me as I decided to disobey and to take the left path, going inside the jungle.

"Her heart is starting to go faster, Stitch, what's happening ?"

"She's disobeying the orders, let's inject her again !"

"Sir, we have to let her finish the scenario or it will have bad consequences."

I walked myself inside the jungle at my left but then, I stopped myself when I saw an white light coming out of the tree and knowing the danger, I fired some bullets in its direction and when I was finished, the light wasn't anymore and the body of an enemy soldier fell of the tree....before someone tried to charge me with their AK-47 but this time, I managed to counter him with my own M16 and to take his gun in my own hands before I could stab him with his own bayonet.

An deep breath and I was back on walking again...until I arrived at that same wooden bridge I could remember this well. The time was like stopped in that part, seeing american soldiers fighting against some viet-congs soldiers that surprised them but then....on the side of the bridge, I could see him....like I did before....Lazar, standing up and looking at me, wearing that same Burger Town shirt.

"Lazar !" I yelled, passing through the frozen soldiers, starting to cross the bridge by running forwards. "Laz', don't go !" I exclaimed loudly as I was seeing him going to the left again, walking very fast. "Lazar." I whispered when I arrived at the other side, looking at my left as I thought to see him again but he was walking too fast.

At my left where Lazar walked, I know that I will have to help another group of soldiers and it was the same thing at my right. I couldn't go back to the bridge, an wooden barrier having literally spawned behind me, making me realize that each step made was meaning that I couldn't make an simple step back behind. I was forced to advance without looking back...I was trapped.

"Let's go....let's go to the left." I chuckled to myself, engaging myself into the path that Lazar took and as I was in the middle of the way, my M16 suddenly disappear from my hands to be replaced by an sniper rifle....an Pellington 703. "What the...." I whispered, discovering the gun in my hands.

"Help ! Over here !" The voice of an man was echoing at the end of the path, urging me to run to its position....to discover an american soldier with an radio near him. "Bell, here !" He said, having seen me arrive....is everyone one knowing me here ?

"What's happening ?" I asked him curious as his men were fighting viet-congs near an house.

"I called an napalm strike, use your rifle and take out all the enemies you can shoot at until our boys arrived." He proposed, making signs towards my rifle, obligating me to use it against the enemies.

I was forced to do but I had no choices but to fire with that sniper rifle against the viet-congs position that was harrasing the soldiers downhill and an few shooting at our position until the fighters arrived at our sector, two F-4 Phantoms dropping their loadouts of napalm on the house, eliminating every presence of these viet-congs in the sector and again, causing the americans soldiers to cheer in triumph.

"I love the smell of napalm in the morning !" The man that was using the radio scoffed around before he look back at me. "Go on, Bell, go check that bunker." He ordered, pointing at the distinctive red door behind the flaming ruins of the house.

"On it !" I complied before I start to go down the hill, keeping that red door in visual until...I could see Lazar, in front of the door. "Lazar, wait !" I yelled again, dropping my sniper rifle on the ground and starting to run towards the red door, traversing through the ruins to join the door.

"You arrived at the bunker, open the door, Bell !" Stitch asked me to do and I took an deep breath as I opened the door but instead of finding an hallway, I was like in an black void with only an torture chair, with me.....Park & Adler near it before the two were getting switched between 5 seconds of Stitch & Freya.

"She's trying to struggle, what does that mean ?"

"She has finished the first scenario but she's not in the bunker, Dedov !"

"Let me find the new injection quick, sir !"

"So, they're doing it ?" I turned around to see Lazar standing just behind me, slowly walking towards the torture chair with me. "The CIA and now....Perseus."

"I couldn't resist, Lazar." I breathed, catching back my breath after everything I've done for the moment. "I'm....losing this fight, you see what they're doing."

"I know but it's not the end !" He exclaimed as the switch of the duos stopped, only showing Freya & Stitch near the torture chair. "I know that you're better than this."

"I want to think about that but...I basically lost any hope now." I expressed, feeling this pain in my chest, trying to look away from him in shame. "I've been told that I'm better than this but at moments, I'm feeling that isn't true at all." I added, holding my left arm, the wound I had in real life....taking form here. "I want help but where I can find it ?" I asked him.

"You don't need help if you already have it, Yirina." He replied, sounding very sure of his words as for me, I was looking at him back with narrowed eyes, slowly moving to get to him.

"What...why ?....where's my help ?" I asked again very curious as I was going to touch him...until he got transported at an few meters behind him.

"Here's the injection for the next scenario, our last one for the day !"

"No time to waste, Stitch, inject it now !"

"Yirina...just....take care of her, okay ?" He demanded from me as he pointed towards me, something getting wrapped around my waist before I realized that it was something hooking me to a rope going up.

"No, no, no !" I raised my voice, trying to remove that rope from me before I got myself ejected away from him. "Lazar !" I screamed in pain as my eyes were forcely closed by something or someone.

"Bell !" Stitch's voice spoke up. "You need to stay focus on the mission, you got to go to the bunker in the jungle." He exclaimed as I could feel him near me in the real world. "Bell, we have an job to do !" He repeated, causing me to blackout and feeling to return back into the beginning.

"Fuck, my head !" I muttered again as I found myself back into the crashed Huey, hanging in the trees but this time, already removed from the seat.

"Your helicopter crashed down, you jumped and you go help the americans." Stitch ordered, sounding an bit annoyed as I moved to get to the only opened door of the Huey.

"Not again !" I muttered before I redid the same landing back on the ground, this time fully-controlled and not even having an scratch or any pain on my body.

"Bell, take that gun !" The same man as before arrived with the same M16 he handed to me....in that...other scenario.....

"Thanks." I nodded to him but as I already knew what was going to happen, I shot bullets towards the soldier that was going to charge him with his bayonet, saving the man's life....and this...it was looking to change something....

"Damn, you...you saved my life." The man was looking surprised and shocked by that, thinking that he was going to die, needed to die. "How...how did you know ?" He asked me.

"Just...thanks me later !" I told him before taking his own gun to give it back. "Now, go help your friends." I suggested with an grin.

"Yeah...I will...thanks, Yirina." He expressed, sending chills inside my body...my real memories are looking to interfere with my implanted ones.

"Something's wrong here, there's things that shouldn't be happening !"

"Sir, her heartbeats are fine, they're nothing wrong !"

"She's making good progress, Stitch, continue your orders !"

"Bell, you took that rifle and you go help your 'brothers-in-arms'." He repeated again in an clear voice and no longer annoyed tone and by that, I started to move to the same cover I used before, with the same guy as before but now, also with the man that I saved an few seconds ago with him. The situation were looking more better, Stitch becoming less present in my head each time I was firying my M16 and then, looking at the direction of the dirt path....I could see...

"Park ?" I whispered, seeing her standing from afar at the beginning of the dirt path, like if she was awaiting for me.

"We're progressing good !" The saved man exclaimed, peaking his head towards the paddy fields. "Yirina, did you see Park over there ?" He questioned me, making my eyes go wide....everyone in the implanted memories were starting to know my real me.

"She's at this dirt path, you need to get to her quick before they started all over again." The other man told me as we were both seeing Park slowly leaving the path and the terrain behind me, disappearing.

"If we don't do anything, he's going to inject her, man !" The saved him expressed, looking worried as an little tear came out of my eyes, this was becoming so real to me....

"Let me think..." The other man started to think while the bullets were flying above our cover before he reloaded his M16. "Ok !" He breathed before he looked at everyone on the american side. "Everyone, at our mark, we charge to let Yirina pass to the dirt path, we're doing this for her !"

"Understood !" Some americans soldiers said in unison as the two with me were putting their knifes as bayonets on their respectives M16s as for me, I was getting to run towards the path.

"CHARGE !" The other man yelled, launching the suicidal assault of every americans soldiers towards the viet-congs position and me, receiving an nodding of the man I saved before I started to run to the dirt path.

"Thanks" I saluted the men quickly for their courages as I arrived near the path, an tears on my eyes before I started to run through it. "Park !" I shouted her name as I arrived at the crossroads, seeing Park going to the left.

"Bell, the bunker is in front of you in the temple, enter it now !" Stitch ordered in an strict voice but Park went right down the river and there were no red door in front of me so...fuck his orders !...

"Like I said, go fuck yourself !" I repeated my insults to him as I runned to the right path, going down to the river.

"Her heartbeat is going off the charts but...she's following the orders !"

"I asked her to go in the middle, not the right path !"

"Sir, you have confused the future scenarios for her, she needed to go to the right !"

"No, I was clear and she disobeyed, let's inject her again !"

"I'm not letting you do this, Stitch ! You can kill her because of you !"

"Park !" I continued to yell as I arrive in the level of the river but then, multiples red doors were starting to fall over from the skies.

"Bell, you need to open this door, NOW !" Stitch proclaimed loudly but I couldn't enter any of this doors, I needed to continue to find Park.

He was certainly controlling some parts of the implanted memories like Adler did but he wasn't able to control the real piece of it....me ! I navigated through the river, avoiding the multiple red doors from Stitch until I could see Park entering one red door at the end of the river near an fall, meaning that this one were the right one to take but Stitch was persistent, he was still ordering me to enter one of these fake red doors but I fought...I struggled...I avoided his traps and I managed to reach the real red door and to open it.

When I entered, I was back into that same black void I faced earlier but this time, it was just an vision of Park herself with nothing around her....nothing and just her in front of me. I slowly walked towards her, exhausted and my arm wound reappaering again like if I was making an real discussion with her. I couldn't know what to think right now.

"I know that you were going to do this !" Park started, sounding very positive as I was troubled.

"Did I ?" I asked her, worried.

"Of course, you won, Yiri !" She turned around to look at me with an smile...something I was able to do for the first time inside those implanted memories.

"How...how did I won, Park ?" I demanded, curious, still moving to get to her.

"You didn't see ?" She whispered with an grin. "You managed to control those implanted memories from Adler, judged impossible to do." She explained, joining her hands together. "The people you saw first, they were adressing you as 'Bell' but then, they realized....that you....you were more than just that." She added, also moving to me.

"What does that mean ? I won but my situation....." I stopped myself, falling on my knees, completely exhausted by everything, my both hands on the ground.

"They're thinking that they won you back for the moment." She revealed to me. "They thought that controlling you after having faced MK-Ultra was going to be child play but you proved them wrong." She continued, kneeling in front of me.

"I proved them wrong." I said in an low voice, looking down at the invisible black ground.

"I gave you the means to fight the MK-Ultra, Lazar also did, Bell too." She told me, getting slowly my attention on her face as I slowly realized what 'Bell' in my dreams was trying to do....give me hope...."You won that fight, Yiri." She expressed, putting her right hand on my left cheek, causing me to install comfortably my head in it.

"The scenario is finished, now is time to await for her to wake up !"

"Good ! Wraith, call me back when she's back in our world !"

"Listen, we don't have much time but hope isn't lost." Park make me listen as we both feel that this moment were going to end soon enough. "Our way to leave this hell...will be in the inside, you will get us out of here."

"I will do it, Park, I promise." I promised her, starting to slowly cry before I moved my arms around her to hug her and she quickly reciprocrated the move with me, holding each other as my body were starting to go limp, meaning my passing out was here....

"We will escape this hell together....like we both promised !"

#cod bocw #cod cold war #cod black ops cold war #cod cw #call of duty cold war #cod #call of duty #cod bell #black ops cold war #yirina grigoriev #fem!bell #helen park

3 notes · View notes