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night-raven-miscellany · 1 month

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boo. tis' i. uh. walter white or something. idk. ive never seen that show. :thumbs up:

im so jealous of flower people actually on GOD flower shit is so cool so i am very excitedly shoving 💐 BOUQUET at you >:3

im foaming at the mouth trying not to go just shove a whole bunch of them at casimir and yuna .... i have issues i think /j

ANYWAY UM. here !!

🎁 PRESENT and 🌋 VOLCANO for Casimir 🔪 KNIFE and 💡 LIGHTBULB for Yuna 🔥 FIRE for Heinrich 🤥 LYING for Lewis 📎 PAPERCLIP for James 🍃 FALLING LEAF for Izem 🍀 CLOVER for Rusul

yippeee !!! dont stress doing them all if thats a lot or if i picked more annoying ones or anything --

✨NAUR Aue I love having things to write about so DW. Im just vibing answering things. Shoving bouquet in my face was much appreciated btw and will be after I cut bc I'm gonna do the short answers first teehee :3

For the shorter answers- yahoo. Copy paste from Google doc time!

🌙Casimir

🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?

Casimir would never admit it, but he loves receiving presents that could go against his image (for example: plushies [that still match his aesthetic], chocolates, etc.). He himself is not necessarily the best gift giver for things like a secret santa or a gift exchange, but he takes it upon himself to learn about and document things about his close friends so that he can find the perfect presents for them.

🌋 VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

Casimir is. Surprisingly difficult to anger. Or at least, that’s how he seems to most people. His anger is more one of those silent, seething resentments that slowly builds up over time. If he’s upset, it starts off as like a simple irritability thing and can be easy to brush off as a bad day, but if left to fester, it’ll turn into being outright petulant and hostile towards other people until eventually exploding into a loud, angry, frustrated mess. And also the lights explode. There’s that, too.

🦐Yuna

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

Yuna is a little bit of both, depending on the situation. When it comes to event planning, studying for classes, or scheduling out her week, she likes being more on the particular side, having specific things written out or set aside in case of emergency. For things like battling or going out with friends, though, she prefers going with the flow and basing her decisions on instinct and whatever is going on in the moment. It’s gotten her this far, so why stop now, right?

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

Yuna hates it when her loved ones get hurt. I’m talking absolutely detests it. And why wouldn’t she? She can’t do anything about it to protect them. She can’t stop whatever it is that’s hurting them. She’s utterly powerless, in the grand scheme of things. And that’s something that weighs on her heavily. Whether she’ll talk about it with you or not, though, is another problem.

🩺Heinrich

🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?

Heinrich has a bad habit of trying to help EVERYONE he can, from the most miniscule of scrapes to the biggest overblots, from a mild inconvenience to the world literally ending. It can be draining for him, but he swears that on his honor as an NRC staff member, he's gonna do the best he can, even if it's a thankless job most of the time.

🎩Lewis

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

If you don't know him well, Lewis is a GREAT liar. He comes off as cool and confident in just about everything he does, even if he's completely bullshitting something. When you get to know him, though, you begin to pick up on the signs. For example, if he's lying, Lewis tends to dance around the subject by asking questions that might seem related, but actually aren't. He also fiddles with his headphones more often if he's being dishonest or avoidant.

🐁James

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

James has a pet cat he keeps in the dorms named Lucretia. She is technically NOT supposed to be allowed on campus, but he’s pretty good at keeping her secret (<is an absolute neat freak).

♌Izem

🍃 FALLING LEAF - do they enjoy being in nature? what is their favourite outdoor activity?

Izem loves the great outdoors. How could he not? There’s something about feeling the fresh breeze on his skin as he runs around playing games with his guys or working out alongside his dormmates. His absolute favorite outdoor activity is extreme parkour (which, granted, can be done inside, too.), but he’s also quite fond of rock-climbing, and Savanaclaw has no shortage of cliff faces for him to climb.

🦜Rusul

🍀 CLOVER - do they believe in luck? are they lucky?

Rusul is like. A total lucky charm. He not only believes in it, but knows how he often tends to have really good luck. It was a rumor when he was younger that if he dropped a feather and you got it, you would have good luck for the next week. It wasn't true, of course, because he's just naturally lucky, but it didn't stop people from thinking his luck would rub off on them.

✨BOUQUET TIME BABEYYYY!!!

💐- create a bouquet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

I’m gonna be so real I cannot possibly do every single flower I want to for everyone, so I’m gonna just stick to 3 or so. I can also provide full explanations for my picks if you want, but in the interest of time I’m gonna keep those shorter AAAA.

There are no bouquets for Izem or Rusul sadly, but maybe I’ll come back and give them some once they’ve been introduced and I’ve got a more solid grip on them.

I originally had links to all 4 sites that had my meanings that I pulled from but Tumblr wouldn't format them,,, *dies*

🦐: The flowers I picked for Yuna include: Zinnias, the Gladiolus, and Bluebells*. The last one specifically I think would be a flower she really likes.

The Zinnia symbolizes thoughts of absent friends. I think this is a pretty self-explanatory pick for Yuna, since she’s so far from home. She also laments quite a bit about the people she left behind, wondering how they’re doing in her absence.

In floriography, the Gladiolus typically represents strength of character. Yuna, I think, is a very strong individual in a variety of ways.For example, honesty and loyalty are two of her biggest virtues, even when surrounded by a bunch of people who would rather act in their own benefit most of the time, which makes her stick out as a strong person in that way.

Bluebells generally symbolize humility and constancy. I was originally looking for something that symbolized endurance, but constancy is similar enough in meaning. Additionally, Yuna doesn’t like being the center of attention and often prefers to not have herself highlighted, since she already hates sticking out as a magicless nobody from another world. The constancy part, though, is more symbolic of how Yuna wants to keep going and persisting to meet her goals, even if she’s very likely going to die if she’s too reckless.

🎩: Lewis’s bouquet would have Ivy, Shamrocks, Daffodils, and Poinsettias. He doesn’t have a favorite out of any of these. His favorite flower in general, though, would have to be an Iris.

Ivy is a symbol of friendship, and that’s something that means an absolute ton to Lewis. I said Yuna was loyal, but LEWIS? If he considers you a friend, you two are like. Bonded for good now. Sorry.

Shamrock represents light-heartedness. Lewis is a very laid-back, easygoing, and humorous guy. All of these traits, though, I think are very fitting traits that could represent someone who is light-hearted.

Daffodils represent unrequited love. Do with this info what you will.

Poinsettias are a flower that means “be of good cheer”. My reason for picking it is similar to the reasoning for Shamrock, but also because it is red, and there will be at least one flower for everyone that matches the color I associate with them djhjdjsh.

🐀: For his bouquet, James is gonna receive some Hollyhock, Amaryllis, and Irises. He likes all of these flowers and he’s particularly fond of the last one, but his actual favorite flower would have to be a yellow carnation.

Hollyhock is a symbol of ambition and/or fruitfulness. I think that both of these are pretty apt descriptors of him, as he’s got a lot of drive (it’s about drive it’s about power- *gunshot as I lie dead on the pavement*) and determination to meet his goals

Amaryllis represent pride. If there were any sins that James were most likely to fall victim to, it’d be that, the cocky bastard. But even in a positive context, James is a very proud individual who is fully aware of his strengths.

Irises can symbolize a ton of different things depending on the color, but the specific meaning I wanted to pick for him was friendship. This is to match Lewis’s Ivy, since the two are incredibly close. Additionally, even if the two were not friends, James would not be the easiest target to befriend, but if you could manage it, he would be an incredibly strong ally.

🌙: For Casimir’s bouquet, he is going to receive some Poppies, White Roses, and Candytufts.

Ok so I KNOW THAT POPPIES ARE GENERALLY REGARDED AS A SYMBOL OF DEATH/DISLIKE. But also. They can symbolize Imagination. I think that all of those are really good picks for Casimir. Please listen to me please hear me out pl-

White roses are just one of many different roses with many different meanings. In this case, the white rose symbolizes charm and/or innocence. Casimir likes playing up being some super evil dude, but he genuinely has a heart of gold and is. Generally well-meaning and polite, even if the way he refers to other people indicates otherwise.

Candytuft is typically a symbol of indifference. While Casimir does care a lot more and is a lot nicer than he might say he is and/or does, he has also been mistaken for not caring in the slightest, should he drop his mask. I think the name is also cute despite holding such a neutral or potentially even negative (depending on who you ask) meaning, which I think is fitting.

🩺: Heinrich’s bouquet includes Geraniums, Clematis, and Coriander. I don’t think that any of them in particular would be his favorites, though.

Geraniums typically symbolize folly. This is Heinrich we’re talking about. I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.

Clematis represent artifice or ingenuity. Both of these are traits that I think would be rather fitting for Heinrich, since he likes to invent and engineer in his free time.

Coriander is a symbol for hidden worth/merit. Heinrich himself is a guy who tends to get underestimated and overlooked a lot, but he’s surprisingly very talented and kind, a hidden treasure of NRC, in a sense.

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fandom-puff · 4 years

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Enough

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Requested by: anon

Prompts: “I‘m never going to be good enough for you, am I?” (49 from list 2)

Summary: you’re not a barmaid. You don’t train horses. You’re nothing compared to the other women in his life

Warnings: swearing, arguments, very brief harassment

“YN!” John’s voice rang out from the side room. “Come ‘ere, girl, come and sit with us!”

You smiled weakly at him. He always tried to include you. “A-Actually, I was just heading home,” you said softly, walking over to him, ignoring Tommy pouring out a gin for May Carleton.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. Is it Finn? D’you want us to tell him to fuck off? We know he’s off putting- oi, Finn, go play with the other kids, yeah, fuck off,”

You giggled slightly. “No... it’s not... it’s not Finn, you can sit down,” you said, and the youngest Shelby grinned at you in thanks.

Esme, johns wife appeared at the door. “You can sit with me if you like. Lord knows I need some female company while him and Arthur are playing cards,” she smirks, jabbing him in the rib with her elbow.

You smile softly and give in. “Fine,” you said. Once the door was shut, you leaned to Esme, murmuring, “you’d think you’d have plenty of female company what with Tommy bouncing between Mrs Carlton and the barmaid,”

John overheard and snorted into his whiskey and esme glared at him. She looked at you sympathetically, and said in a hushed voice once the boys were distracted by cards again, “you still love the fucker, don’t you?”

Signing, you looked down to your lap, fidgeting with your hands. “Mm-Hm,” you confirmed. “He just... he confuses me so much. He cuts it off with me after the war, saying he needs space when really he was chasing that barmaid spy... she fucks off after he has her, and he comes back to me for a quick one. I was a fool to let him, because not two weeks later it’s May Carlton this, May Carlton that,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, hating to admit that you were jealous. But underneath that, you felt vulnerable. Inadequate.

“He’s a cock, YN,” esme said, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“Who’s a cock, Es?” John asks. Nosey bastard.

Esme sighed softly. “Thomas. Flaunting the horse woman round YN. Says she was born riding, but I bet she’s only ever ridden Fillies she inherited. Never had to break one in herself,” she rolled her eyes.

John and Arthur looked at you, smiling sympathetically. “If it’s any consolation to you, YN, we prefer you over an Irish spy or some posh woman any day of the week,” Arthur said. “You were with Tom since you were sixteen, and since he er... broke things off... he’s been a right dick,”

You smiled softly. Arthur and John would’ve made such lovely brothers in law. “Thanks, boys,” you sighed. “But it’s not... it’s not that I’m mad at him for seeing other women, he can do what he wants. It’s the seeing me in between and then ignoring me. I-I know I’m no good. I know I’m boring. I know I’m useless. Just... he doesn’t seem to be arsed about how I feel, even though I care so much about him. It’s like rubbing salt into an open wound- I don’t even know why I’m talking about this to you lot of all people,” you let out a high, nervous laugh. Esme patter your back as John and Arthur each reached to squeeze one of your hands reassuringly.

“What’s going on?” Tommy asked, the door now what as he slipped into the room. May was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Thomas?” Esme spat. You were glad for her venemous tongue sometimes.

Tommy rolled his eyes and barely regarded his sister in law. “May Carlton has left small Heath to go back to her home,” he said bluntly. “To tend to my horse,”

“Even though you’ve got Curly here. He’s the best at horses,” you blurted, without really thinking.

“Yn,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What would you know about horses?”

His words stung. He had taught you how to ride when you were 16. He’d taught you how to tell what a horse was feeling, how to calm a nervous mare, how to get a horse to behave without taking to the crop or the whip. In your letters while he was in France you always made sure to tell him how the horses in the yard were getting on, and he told you about the beautiful chestnut stallion he had seen, the dappled mare which the commander rode. “Only what you taught me,” you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes. “Only what you taught me before you went off to France. Before that fucking war and then that fucking copper ruined everything,” you pulled away from esme’s comforting pats, from John and Arthur’s sympathetic gaze, from Finn’s baffled look. You stared at tommy, taking a deep breath to say something scathing, but could only manage a small sob.

You hated yourself for it. Tommy grabbed your arms but you wriggled from his grasp. “Look, YN, calm down, love, we’ll talk-“

“Love? Love?” You hissed. “You lost your right to call me anything but my name months ago. Don’t you coddle me, Thomas Shelby, because I know exactly what you’re thinking. I‘m never going to be good enough for you, am I? I’m never going to be a pretty Irish barmaid who keeps a pistol in her handbag. I’m never going to be a prostitute you wouldn’t let your brother marry because you wanted her all to yourself. I’m never going to be some rich widow with a big house and a wealth of knowledge about horses. All I gave you, ten years of my life, my innocence, my youth... it was never good enough for you, was it?” tears were streaming down your face.

“Yn,” Tommy said.

“No,” you pushed past him. “Don’t bother,” you slammed the door to the snug. As you walked out of the pub, a man grabbed at your wrist.

“Need some cheering up, darling?” He snarled, Hans tracing your thigh.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off me before I rip your fucking balls off and shove ‘em down your own throat,” you growled, yanking your hand away from him, and storming home.

Men were the worst. All toe rags, you decided.

***

A week has passed since your argument with tommy. Each of the Shelby’s had tried reaching out to you- you were practically a sister to them for ten years before Tommy decided he’d had enough.

You sighed as the door knocked. “As much as I appreciate it Arthur,” you sighed as you took the chain off. “Im really not in the mood to spend my night drinking away my sorrows with you and John- oh. It’s you,”

You immediately looked down, not wanting to look into those blue eyes, that perfect face. That stupid, perfect face.

“YN... look,” he said slowly, carefully. The same way he would coax a nervous filly to trust him. “I’ve been... ive been a bastard, okay. I’m sorry. I still... I still love you,”

You snorted. “Explain that to everyone within a mile radius of May Carlton’s house, hmm?” You said bitterly. “Or to the horse you named ‘Grace’s Secret’”

Tommy sighed. “I know you hate me, YN... but... I love you. I haven’t stopped loving you since we were 16 in my uncle Charlie’s Yard, hiding from your dad. When we used to sit by the cut eating those pretty little cakes you used to make. I used to give you the strawberry off the top of mine, so long as you gave me some of your buttercream. We wrote to eachother every week while I was in France, sometimes twice, three times, even. I still have those letters, YN. You used to put a spritz of your perfume in each one and do a little kiss in all your different lipsticks so it was like you were hugging and kissing me all those miles away,”

As he spoke, he was slowly backing you into your living room, until you were both sitting down. “I didn’t bring you flowers, because I know you only really like them in the spring and summer, because they wilt too fast and look too sad in the autumn and winter. And if it was spring, I would’ve gotten you roses or violets or pansies, because I know lilies and chrysanthemums make you sneeze,” a fresh round of tears slipped out of your shut eyes. You couldn’t bare to look at him under his intense gaze- you knew you’d break down after just a second.

“Tommy,” you whispered softly. It was the first time you’d called him by his nickname in over a year

“I know that you can’t sleep without snuggling into something- blankets normally- but... it used to be me, and I miss it so much, YN,” he said the last part in a soft, quiet voice.

You let out a soft cry, moving to his side, allowing him to engulf you in his arms and hold you tight, the way he held you the night before he went off to war. You cried into his chest, and we’re sure he was crying into your hair for more than an hour, finding long lost comfort in one another’s arms, the way they slotted so well together despite so long apart.

“I want this to work Tommy,” you eventually whispered. “I want it to be how it was,” you felt him not his head.

“No more secrets, YN. No more women. Only you. The only woman I’ve ever truly loved,”

You sighed softly and nodded, snuggling into him the way he pointed out you did. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed, you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he said guiltily, picking you up and carrying you upstairs. As he was tucking you in, you grabbed his hand, eyes suddenly alert.

“Don’t leave me again,” you whispered, squeezibv his hand. He squeezed back, before kicking off his shoes and taking off his belt, sliding into bed behind you, cuddling you close the way you did all those years ago. It seemed the most natural thing to do, and he almost sighed with relief when you snuggled close. He kissed the top of your head gently.

“Never, YN... never again,”

Tag list: @the-makingsofgreatness @peakyswritings @haphazardhufflepuff @diksy1112 @zodiyack @soleil-dor @hiddensapphic @fckingpeakyblinders @snugleo @alittlebirds @satanxklaus @glamsaturn @thegirlwithoutaname87 @queenofmankind @awkwardretro

#peaky blinders #fluff #imagine #fanfiction #request #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x you

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the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years

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Can You Imagine? IV

A/N: Oof. This chapter was really fun to write, especially beginning to explore Freydis's abilities more, and whereas I wasn't too sold on the last chapter, I REALLY feel good about this one! Ivar didn't have to face up to much of what he'd done in Kattegat during Season 6, and as much as I love him... He's facing up to it now. It's not too easy to earn the forgiveness of someone you killed, after all, is it? I hope you enjoy :) Skål!

Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive… she may have to learn to trust him again.

Masterlist

The Moment of Adrenaline

What followed was not at all something the spectators had expected to see. They had expected a joyful reunion, husband and wife reunited when her life had been cut short. Of course, had the story of Freydis’s death been truthful, had she really died in the Siege of Kattegat as a casualty of war, then this would have been true.

Those watching this hadn’t known that Ivar was the one who killed her. They were found in the same tomb, buried as husband and wife, and the truth died with Hvitserk. All that was known was that Freydis had sacrificed her life for Kattegat. It made sense that, instead of this, Freydis and Ivar should have been thrilled to be together once more.

However, now she was facing the door again, instead of running to him, and pounding on it, begging to be released. It seemed she had even forgotten what she could do, that if she wanted to, she could pull the door from its hinges with a flick of her wrist.

When the door didn't open, Freydis felt her heart sinking into her stomach. She was well and truly stuck in here with him. Finally, she turned, looking at him with wide eyes. From the way her chest rose and fell, he could see she was panicking. So, he lifted his hands and began to approach her as one approached a wounded animal.

"Freydis, I'm not going to hurt you," he promised. "I swear, I won't hurt you again."

"Liar!" Freydis shouted back. "You killed me, Ivar! How am I supposed to believe you now? You killed me, and you killed our baby!"

The two spoke in Old Norse, and those watching behind the mirrors began to look to each other confusedly. Only Professor Andersen understood a word of what they said, and his eyes widened at the revelation. They'd just proven about a million history books wrong.

"I know, I know," Ivar said. Every step he took, her breathing became faster and harder. So, he paused, and watched her movements instead. He needed her to calm down before something went wrong.

The truth was, though he knew what powers were given to him, he couldn't be sure what they had given to her. It was very likely that she had something different. After all, he'd been told he could see her if she survived her experiments and tests. They'd had next to no doubt that he would survive.

And, try as he might, they wouldn't hear of him trading experiments with her. He had begged to see her before they did anything to her, in case she didn't survive, and he had begged to take what they were giving her, begged for them to give to her what they wanted to give to him. After all, after what he'd done to her, he knew she was the one who deserved to survive this. He was the one who should sacrifice himself for her.

It didn't seem Freydis knew any of this, though- not that it would make up for what he had done, not in either of their minds. He'd killed her, and even sacrificing his life now to save hers wouldn't undo that. He doubted if anything could undo that betrayal of her love and her trust.

That didn't mean he wouldn't try to earn it back, if he could. Even if he had to fight tooth and nail to earn it back, he would.

But what Ivar didn't know, was that Freydis hadn't loved him when she betrayed him. Far from it, she had come to hate him. Even now, she hated him. The betrayal that turned her against him was his decision concerning Baldur. That hadn't been his decision to make alone, and it wouldn't have been one she'd have ever agreed to anyway. Then again, perhaps that was exactly why he made it alone. Perhaps he preferred to beg her forgiveness, rather than to ask for her permission.

Whatever it was, he knew that gaining her trust would not be easy, not now, and he might never have her love again. The part of his mind that rarely let him rest whispered that he didn't deserve to, and he knew it was right. No man who would kill his wife deserved her forgiveness.

Clearly, she was having the same thoughts, as she had finally seemed to realize he didn't mean to hurt her, regardless of what he did mean to do. The fear in her eyes slowly turned to that of confusion, as she looked over him from head to toe, and then her eyes slowly returned to his eyes.

"How are you standing here?" she asked him. "Your legs, they should be breaking."

"It is whatever..." He waved his hand about, not having a word for it in their tongue. "Serum they gave me. It healed my body, Freydis."

She held up a hand, and closed her eyes, almost looking as though he'd just slapped her. "Do not speak to me as if you know me," she hissed out. "You have lost that right."

"I do know you, though," he said. "I'm the only one here who does."

Freydis laughed bitterly, looking at him and crossing her arms. "Is that true?" she questioned. He knew that tone in her voice, the sort that warned him he was treading on thin ice. "What do I prefer to drink with my evening meals?"

Ivar blinked a few times. "Ale," he said, as if it were obvious.

"Mead," she corrected. "You preferred ale. What was my favorite color, before?"

"Red."

"It was blue. You favored red."

He swallowed thickly, feeling no small amount of nerves coursing through him. "Freydis," he said quietly.

"Don't."

As her eyes connected with his, he saw that strength returning to her. The very strength that he'd seen in her eyes when she looked at him, and confessed to letting Björn, Hvitserk, and their army into Kattegat. He shifted on his feet.

"You never knew me, Ivar. I knew you, but you did not know me. I did everything for you, and what did you give me in return? You gave me a throne, but you made it miserable to sit in."

"I loved you," he replied. "That was all I could give."

The once Queen laughed, and shook her head. "You say you loved me, but I am not sure you did. I think you believed you did, but you loved how I loved you. Can you truly kill someone you love?"

Flashes of blonde hair, a bloody battlefield, axes and swords, slipped quickly through Ivar's mind. Two brothers, lying on the ground, gone. He had killed Sigurd, he had killed Björn, and he had killed Freydis.

His eyes refused to meet hers, proving- if nothing else- that he felt a deep shame for what he had done. That was three he had killed, three of the people he had loved most dearly. And he'd even asked her once if he should kill Hvitserk, who he may have loved most of his brothers, in the end. Hvitserk, who returned to his side, and stayed by his side, after all he had done. He'd been the only one.

"I did love you," Ivar said, nodding a little as if reminding himself of that. "I still do."

Now, it was Freydis who swallowed. "Part of me wants to believe you," she said. "Part of me does. You even told me, before you killed me, that a part of you would always love me. So perhaps that is why I believe you do love me now. Or that a part of you does. But you must know I have lost my love for you."

Finally, his eyes did return to hers, and he almost wished they'd still been as cold as they'd been only a few moments ago. Instead, he found that they were sorrowful, and she was approaching him. He could almost picture that dress she'd been wearing when he killed her, her hair pulled back in that braid, as she walked.

He blinked again, and he realized he actually did see that, that he saw them in Kattegat once more. She cupped his cheek, and he blinked a few times as he looked into her eyes. “You left my heart in that forest with Baldur,” she whispered.

Ivar's eyes widened a little as he looked into hers, and he began to pant softly. "Freydis," he breathed, looking away from her and back to Kattegat. "How did you- how are we...?"

"How are we what?" she questioned, watching Ivar curiously. He looked up at her with a confused expression, and she only mirrored it.

"How are we in Kattegat?" he asked her.

She gave a slight chuckle, and answered, "We have always been in Kattegat, Ivar. But you cannot stay."

Ivar looked around, and when she chuckled darkly, he looked back to her again. "Freydis..." he began warningly, and her chuckles turned into laughter as the doors burst open.

Björn and Hvitserk entered the room, which he knew to be the Great Hall of the longhouse he'd grown up in, and he stepped back.

"Thank you, Freydis," Hvitserk said, and smirked as he approached and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his hand resting on her back.

"You've delivered him to us as you said," Björn commented with a smirk. "And now, we will deliver him to you."

Freydis smirked as well, a dark look in her eye, as she turned and wrapped her arms around Hvitserk's waist. "Thank you," she said. "I look forward to seeing him burn. Or perhaps we should tie him up, leave him to starve in the forest as he did Baldur."

Hvitserk chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Whatever you wish, sweet Freydis," he said.

Ivar was backing away from Björn , who was steadily encroaching on him as Freydis began to laugh, until pain shot through his body from one kick from his brother. His leg broke, and as he fell to the ground, Björn made sure to break his other leg as well. "No escape for you, Boneless," he growled. "Not this time." He could barely see Freydis looking up at Hvitserk, could barely see his brother kissing her, his wife, before his eyes were drawn to the sword Björn pointed at him. The sword slid into his chest and made Ivar gasp, which drew the attention of Hvitserk and Freydis, the latter of whom finally pulled away from the former to approach him. Björn moved away, sheathing his sword, as Freydis got to her knees and cupped his cheek.

When he reached up to cup hers, she caught his wrist, and twisted his arm so that he cried out, unable to stop her as he grew weaker. "I look forward to seeing your body hang from a tree," she hissed out, and the world went black.

Things suddenly shifted, and Freydis was standing right in front of him, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. She seemed angry, and perhaps a little amused, though the look in his eyes could only be described as confusion and fear.

"How?" he managed, looking back around the small room he'd been allowed into so he could see her. "How did you-?"

"I showed you your worst fear," she said, and smirked. "Admittedly, I doubt Hvitserk would have killed me. He wasn't the one who killed Thora after all, was he?"

Ivar blinked a few times as he looked at her, shaking his head. "Freydis..." he said once more. "Why would you show me this?"

She gave a small shrug before answering, "Because I wanted to know. And, if I am entirely honest, because you deserved it."

"I-?" he managed, shaking his head. "I am not sure that is my worst fear. Not now. Now, that is a nightmare, but it is not my worst fear."

Freydis looked at him with a slightly curious expression, and she lifted her hand. "Shall we see what is your worst fear, then?" she asked. "I would be happy to do so..."

Red smoke began to slip out of her fingers, and he watched as her eyes turned red. Whatever power they had given her struck terror into his heart, and he was almost entirely sure his worst fear was already playing out before him. The one woman who had every reason to hate him now had powers beyond that of any Völva, and could possibly kill him with a flick of her wrist. He was entirely reliant on her mercy.

"Freydis," he said, again lifting his hands in a show of surrender. "You do not want to do this, hm? You don't want to kill me."

Rage overtook her, and she screamed out, "You do not know what I want!" A flick of the wrist and he flew back into the wall, a harsh thud sounding throughout the room as he hit it, and fell to the ground. "You are the last person who knows! You took everything from me, Ivar! You took my son, my love, my people! Do you want to know what I want?"

She crouched down in front of him, looking him in the eye as the red faded from hers, and the smoke retreated into her hand once more. "I want it all back." Her voice cracked as she spoke, and her eyes began to water. "I want our son, I want our lives, I want our love back," she whispered. "But you destroyed it all." Her finger jabbed him in the chest, right where Björn’s sword had driven through his heart in the vision she had shown him. "I cannot have any of those things now, Ivar. You killed our son, our love, and you killed me. I can never trust you after what you did. Just as you knew you would never again trust me."

She had claimed just a few moments ago that he didn't know her, but Ivar knew that wasn't quite true. Perhaps he hadn't known her favorite drink, or her favorite color, and perhaps he should have, but he did know the look on her face, the sound in her voice, when her heart was breaking. Or, more accurately, when her heart was broken.

His hand came up to cup her cheek, wanting to comfort her, but she pulled away before he could touch her. "Don't do that," she said quietly, her voice strained. "Don't."

With that, she stood, and walked to the door. He watched as she now opened it, with what he could only describe as her magic. One thought was constantly echoing through his mind as he watched her go, his heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears.

He was lucky to be alive.

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#ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar ragnarsson #alex hogh andersen #history channel vikings #ivar's heathen army #vikings history #can you imagine?#chapter four #ivar x freydis #freydis #queen freydis #ivar #freyvar

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catnippackets · 4 years

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have you seen/would u recommend pacific rim 2? ive heard some things about newt and idk lol

I feel like Im in the minority that actually did think pru was fun but that being said it ended SO abruptly and with like three separate plotlines completely abandoned that I was really frustrated for days after watching it until I had processed everything and had time to think deeply about it lol it just seemed rly unfinished?? it feels like it was deliberately made as 1/2 of two sequels and there needs to be one more to tie everything up. actually I’m gonna ramble abt this bc I have a lot of thoughts (obvs spoilers under the cut)

the thing about the second one was that I genuinely was enjoying it right up until it ended because I swear to god the moment the end screen went up I yelled "what the fuck, that's it?" out loud into my bedroom bc I was so SHOCKED that THAT'S how it all ended, because it just seemed so incomplete?? Like it seemed like one half of a story, that will only be made whole if there's a third one to tie up all the plotlines that they didn't go through with in the second and if that's the case then I will be completely fine with it but if it doesn't or if they dont have a third one at all I will stay so frustrated lol. one silver lining to this is that the vibe of this movie was so different from the first that it almost feels easy to separate it and just imagine it as an AU if you prefer which is sort of nice; usually if a piece of media I like does something bad I feel all gutted and anxious and terrible that this is the canon I have to accept, but something abt this movie just made it feel like it was sort of a totally separate deal. maybe cuz only 3 of the original characters were in it idk

to start off: I felt like there were a couple of plotlines in it that were just sort of introduced and then never seen through which was very ????? Amara & Vik's weird hate-rivalry thing was one of them; Vik instantly has it out for Amara bc she’s jealous, which is a very interesting concept, and then this prompts Amara to become hostile right back at her, which is also a very interesting concept, and then it never got resolved at all? like they couldve done something really cool with those two but it just never went anywhere. and then there was sort of a weird love triangle thing happening between Jake and Nate and Jules that felt so weird bc it had no significance to the plot at all and it felt like it was only thrown in there for the sake of having ~romantic drama~ idk maybe I wasnt paying too much attention and there was more to it than that but it really just seemed like they wanted to put romance in there and didnt want to bother to put any work into it

BUT the thing about romantic sub plots is that THERE ALREADY WAAAAS OOOOOOOOONE which brings me to the biggest frustration I have w this movie because--and DISCLAIMER, this was also my favourite plot point of the movie bc it was by far the most interesting, the biggest reason for me enjoying the movie at all, and the bit I feel like should have had WAY more attention--Newt and Hermann were like legitimately in love in this movie I swear to god I was watching it and thinking “this is GENUINELY the most blatantly gay thing I’ve ever seen in a feature film and I know that straight ppl are very talented at writing gay romances completely by accident so it’s possible that they just accidentally did it this way but also it is REALLY goddamn obvious oh my gooood?” (and then I did a lot of frantic googling and found out that I was right and Charlie Day & Burn Gorman knew what the fuck they were doing and I felt so validated lol), and yet despite this, the movie had them speak for the last time almost at the halfway point of the film and then spend the entire second half apart and not talking at all and even at the post-credits scene where Jake and Newt talked for a bit Hermann wasn't there?? not even behind Jake to give Newt any searching glances?? Nothing??

dude...Newt being possessed by the precursors is a HUGELY interesting concept that actually makes sense and I wish it had had more attention. I’ve seen a lot of ppl say that pru butchered Newt’s character and I don’t 100% agree bc like...being possessed will change you lmao so while yes I’m obviously sad that he wasn’t himself, I feel like it made sense that he had a slight personality change, because it...wasn’t him anymore. we don’t really see the Newt we all fell in love with in the first movie. we THINK we’re seeing him, but halfway through we find out we’re wrong.

my critiques with that plotline are basically that I wish the reveal had happened a little bit later on, and I wish that it had been a little more obvious I guess?? like, we definitely get hints of it (when Hermann excitedly asks Newt to help him with a dangerous unorthodox project and Newt says “dude why are you doing something so risky when we’ve already got a good plan in motion? just wait for that to be done, it’s fine” and Hermann IS us, he IS the audience when he reacts, because this is a completely insane thing for Newt to say. Newt, who, in the first movie, was so obsessed with finding knowledge that he went behind the marshall’s back to literally risk his life doing something incredibly dangerous just to see what would happen? being given the opportunity to do the same kind of dangerous frivolous act and refusing? this is blatantly out of character, and Hermann is all of us when he’s shocked, “what, you mean you...won’t help me??” which means it wasn’t bad writing on their part, it was purposefully supposed to stand out as something that was wrong and something that we needed to pay attention to. that was a really good scene to hint that something was Not Right with Newt), and I wish there had been a bunch more like it. I think the reveal should have been saved for the end of the second act; I think that should have been the moment that act 2 of a story usually has, that dreadful event that happens that leaves the main characters feeling completely hopeless and unsure what to do.

I also wish that he had managed to break through more than That One Scene, I think it would’ve been more dramatic if he’d had a few moments where he managed to take control for a second to remind us that he’s still in there and still fighting, and I’m sad they didn’t do that. I saw a fan comic that touched on this idea and I think it’s brilliant, even the idea of him suddenly getting a nosebleed and acting distracted to show that that’s the Real Him trying to fight through would have been sooooooooo good.

I also feel like it didn’t make any sense for Nate to be the one to subdue him in the end, I dont even think those two interact at all so like, why was it him?? it would have been so much more dramatic and heartbreaking if Hermann had been the one to confront him so they could’ve had a little conversation on the roof where Newt could once again break through for a second before getting taken over and then Hermann could like idk have a taser hidden behind him that he uses to subdue him and THAT wouldve been a way sadder and more interesting way to do it. I also think Hermann shouldve been the one to speak to him in the post credits scene, or to have him in the background behind Jake just watching him sadly so we can get a couple shots of intense eye contact like UGH I just wish there had been more interaction between the two of them after the reveal happened!! When the movie was over and I realized they never spoke again I felt so upset!!! they're soulmates!! they're literally in love!! this has been CONFIRMED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and segueing in from the soulmate thing, another thing that made me sad was that nobody came in pairs anymore :( aside from Newt and Hermann, they were the only ones gjdfk but in the first one every character had another character that they were paired up with, both for drifting reasons and just for plot reasons (except Chau and Tendo but I’m pretty sure there's actually significance to that too), and in the second one it just sort of felt like everyone was drifting with each other with no strong connection needed and that made it feel way less special. granted, the movie takes place ten years after the first one so in that time maybe technology advanced to the point where you didn't need a strong neural connection to drift anymore, but for the sake of the story it would have been way better if they'd kept the whole soulmates concept from the first one, it made it way stronger and more special

so yeah in conclusion I did think pru was enjoyable and I probably would watch it again some time but also it definitely pales in comparison to the first one and I’m desperately hoping we get one more so they can tie everything together and FIX THINGS KFGH it’s not too late!!!!! I wish I could write Pacific Rim 3 I genuinely think I would do a good job I love storytelling and I’m very passionate about these characters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#ramblings #Anonymous #ask #this is really long but please interact I've been dying to talk about this for weeks now

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hecohansen31 · 5 years

Text

Not The Right Time

The Story Of How He Found Out:

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU)

(Chapter 1: The Story of How We Ended Up There)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I know it’s been a long time since I post this series, and I just wanted to also thank you for the warm welcome you showed it, I was immediately prompted to write more since I felt like it was very wanted.

I am also glad I was able to portray such a theme in the best way, enough not to seem judging or annoying and I am going to repeat that if you feel judged even in the slightest, please let me know and tell me what I could do to make it better.

I hope you’ll like it, again and any feedback is more than welcome!

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: It isn’t coincidence anymore when Destiny is trying its best to push you together, even exposing your ‘small secret’ to Ivar.

WORDS: 8 K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Talk about Custody Battles and Custody, Use of The World ‘Cripple’.

Ivar had a hate-love relationship with taking care of his nephew and niece.

He certainly hated being waken up at 8 p.m. on a luxurious Saturday morning just to babysit his brother’s children, meanwhile he and Torvi went ‘shopping for the newest arrival’, which meant they would probably screw around the entire day.

But he loved the way his niece and nephew’s eyes would light up softly as they came to him, immediately almost tackling him to a ground in a way that made him want children of his own.

Had he ever been able to have one…

Freydis hadn’t been there when the call had arrived.

He remembered she had to go through some treatments and although he had insisted to go with her, she hadn’t wanted him.

‘It’s just… womanly things… I would feel more comfortable going alone’ and he had immediately respected the wishes of his goddess.

So, in the end, he was extremely grateful for the children’s company who had convinced him to drive to another park from the one near his house, because… ‘this one was better, uncle Iv’.

He drove there and let the children quickly spatter themselves around, after they had both thanked him with a quick kiss, keeping an eye on them, not wanting to let them wander too far away:.

Once Hvitserk had been tasked with the ‘babysitting’ since Ivar was busy with some medical visits and he had come back home without the children.

Thankfully the McDonald’s employees had called Torvi and Ubbe immediately, after they had found their children in the fast food restaurant …

He got his phone out, since he thoroughly hated to acknowledge the stares people always sent his way when this happene.

Some would eye him as if they were worried he would grab their children and run, but the actual worst was when they would stare at him with soft pity in their eyes.

So, he preferred to check his phone, shooting a small look at the children who were running freely, around the small park, over the slide and in the little sand box.

And then he saw you.

You weren’t in your job uniform, a loose sweatshirt and a pair of skinny and worn out jeans with some rips on the knees, the entire outfit completed by a pair of dirtied sneakers.

Your hair was in an high ponytail as your eyes sprinkled over the park.

He didn’t know how you could be so fascinating even in that ‘worn out’ mise, but as you turned lightly to him, he was finally able to understand why: your smile was the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and almost attracted by it, he got up and moved to you.

He didn’t know why he did it, but he just felt like seeing you closer, discovering that you hadn’t lost the little moles under your nose and your nails were still painted of the brightest colors, after all this time.

You also hadn’t lost the lovely curves you always had owned, but they fell in a different and more mature way now.

He stopped staring at them as you raised your face meeting his gaze.

And immediately that smile disappeared from your face.

And Ivar didn’t know what to say.

His curiosity had gotten the best of him, but now that he was in front of her, he didn’t know what to do.

So, he went with kindness.

“… hey” it was a weak mumble, but it was all he could utter, as you shieded away your gaze from him, definitely nervous and at unease “… I swear I am not stalking you!”.

“Are you sure, Ivar Lothbrock?” the way you taunted him with his name and his surname made a shiver appear on his back, as it moved down its spine disappearing under his skin “… we haven’t met each other in five years and then suddenly… we met each other two days in a row?”.

“… well that might indeed make you doubtful, but I come bearing good intentions” he prompted immediately, raising his hands and a small laugh came onto your face “Maybe you should take it as a sign that we need to seriously take that coffee, one day”.

“Too busy” you tutted lightly as you shook your head, your small smile becoming algid cold and he knew better than to insist, although his body wanted nothing more than to meet you again.

But he just didn’t understand this impulse.

Why, most of all, it happened when he was happily tying the knot with his lovely fiancée?

He was even trying for a child, undergoing hours and hours of physical and psychological therapy.

Still, how did they say?

You could never forget your first love.

“… I know that we didn’t leave on the happiest note” he mumbled not even truly knowing why he was saying that, although he had wanted to tell you this right after the aching confession on that diner that damned day “… but I missed you”.

The revelation shook you, enough that you weren’t able to properly hide your thoughts and surprise, shown with the way you moved your eyes away from his, not facing him but unable to close your mouth in a stern expression, as your hands were clutched together tight.

“… I… “ he was ready for the worst of insults, maybe a small ‘I missed you, too’, although it wouldn’t have been in your personality, but he certainly hadn’t expected a small child moving towards them, or better… crawling towards them.

“Mommy, mommy!” he called out softly as he moved towards you, adjusting his shirt, a bit dirtied by the wet ground of the park, but he didn’t seem to care, shooting you a beautiful smile, the ones that only children had “… can we stay a bit longer?”.

And if the crawling hadn’t already put him on guard as the child raised his head, he showed him the same blue eyes he saw each day in the mirror.

He shot you a look, as you immediately shrank away from him, moving towards the child as you helped him up, easing him onto the light braces you had in a small fabric bag beside you, Ivar hadn’t noticed.

You helped the child in them expertly, as he continued on pleading on staying more but you were a woman on a mission.

And Ivar was a man glued on the ground beneath his feet.

“Eric, sweetheart, we promised that we would have had lunch with grandma and you also need a bath” your tone was sweet but stern, but it wasn’t tender because of his situation, but more because of a motherly instinct.

As the baby has his braces again, he was able to stand upright and he turned to Ivar, almost asking for some help with his mother, but as he did so, he realized that Ivar wore similar braces the search of pity became surprise.

“Mom, mom! He is like me!” there was no intention to shame him, but simple childish naivety and joyful happiness, but you immediately turned away from Ivar, and shot him one last look, as the big burly man not only found him stuck on the ground, but also speechless.

“It was nice meeting you Ivar, but I hope that you won’t found me again”.

And like that, you were gone.

With what looked like his child.

---

You weren’t able to properly feel safe till you heard the door slamming as Eric complained lightly about ‘wanting to play more’.

Your mother appeared from the kitchen, her hair still damp from the shower she had had.

To try to help you and Eric she had taken a small job at the florist shop near your house: she had always loved plants and flowers so she actually enjoyed working there, and sometimes would bring small plants home to ‘brighten the mood’.

“Eric, (Y/N)?” she looked at you weirded out by your early return: usually Saturday you would go out with Eric and then stay there till lunch time, to work the rest of the afternoon at the diner, having the night off for your small bartender job “… you are early”.

“It’s mom’s fault!” complained Eric, whenever he would do that he would resemble Ivar very much, making you almost want to raise your voice at the small boy, but you tried to calm yourself well aware that he didn’t know that you had done this to protect him “.. and there was a man like me at the park, today, grandma!”.

“Eric, go take a bath” you put more sternness than you should have in your tone, regretting it as the boy stumped his way to the bath and mother sent you a worried look, but you waited for the shower water to run before you answered your mother’s non-verbal question.

“I saw Ivar at the park, this morning” you mumbled and your mother immediately came closer to you, as you slowly slumped onto the sofa “… I had seen him yesterday, already, but I… thought it was a coincidence”.

You felt panic washing through you as you tried to breath deeper in order to regain some kind of control over your body, which was trembling horrendously.

“… sweetheart… did he see Eric?” your mother tried to bring some order to your chaotic mind as you tried to adjust yourself in a more comfortable position.

“Yes, he did”.

And then came the realization that Ivar now knew about your child.

“Baby of mine, don’t panic” he mumbled softly, as she tightened her grip around you, drawing relaxing circles onto your back “… he might not…”.

“Mom he is a cripple, but he isn’t stupid!” you shouted, immediately covering your mouth with an hand to stop the horrid sound from leaving your mouth, worried about Eric hearing you “… I am worried… what if he… comes here? What if…?”.

“He has no right to him” your mother spoke with confidence “… he broke up with you, he didn’t have the right to know there and he doesn’t now, don’t forget it”.

“He is rich, mom, he might… he might get Eric…” Gosh you couldn’t even think about the possibility of Ivar coming for Eric.

Although he had admitted, back then, he never wanted children, you had seen the look on his face as he had taken in Eric, realizing it was his.

You were worried.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, (Y/N)” she hugged you tighter as she tightened the hug “… it is your child, it isn’t his”.

“I can’t live without Eric” you uttered lightly as she softly cooed in your neck to help you calm yourself down “… I don’t know what I would do without him…”.

“… then it won’t happen” she gave you a comforting pat “… don’t think about things that haven’t happened yet”.

“Mom, I…” you didn’t know what to say anymore, the anxiety slowly burning through you “… I know, thank you”.

“Nothing to thank, sweetie, it’s my job” Eric appeared on the threshold of the kitchen, the towel almost making him trip on his own feet “… and our little man might need a bit of help”.

Helping Eric made you calm down a bit, as the little boy told you all about the fact that he had been able to get himself up the small castle stairs by himself all alone.

‘Coach Broadwick, said that I need big hands if I want to be a goalie!” he squealed as you brushed his hair together to dry them faster ‘… grandpa would have been proud, wouldn’t he?”.

“Of-super-course, sweetie!” you smiled at him softly, before you proceeded to smack his entire faces with kisses, as you helped him put his shirt, your mother called you both out for lunch “… let’s see what grandma made for us”.

As you turned, thinking that you had closed the Ivar’s debating, he muttered:

“Did you know the man that was like me, mom?”.

Although you had vowed to avoid lying to you child, you wished you could do it this time, with a light heart.

“He was an old friend” you muttered your tone so quiet that even Eric seemed to understand that it was better not to ask for more “… now we better hurry or grandma’s delicious lunch will be cold!”.

And Eric seemed to finally relax himself, forgetting all about that man.

And you hoped Ivar had done the same.

---

Ivar wasn’t able to simply forget the sight he had seen at the park.

You and a child.

His child.

Because it was either that or you had a fetish for fucking crippled men.

He didn’t know what to do, immediately choosing to leave the kid to their respective parents since he felt like he was slowly spiraling through what looked like’ memory lane’.

He excused his action with Ubbe, justifying it as Freydis needing a hand at the fertility clinic and his brother didn’t say anything simply asking whether he could do something more.

‘Let me know if I can do something for you’ had replied weakly Ubbe, not a true offer.

He couldn’t help him with what he needed.

But somebody else could.

He stumbled all the way to Heahmund’s apartment, an elegant loft which matched perfectly the personality of the distinguished lawyer.

Who was fucking a girl onto the table of his kitchen.

Ivar simply coughed to let his presence known and the girl immediately almost stumbled away from the kitchen, Heahmund’s cock sloppily leaving her, as she fell onto the ground, her knees weak for the amazing sex.

“What the fuck, Ivar?!” instead shouted Heahmund, annoyed and angered, it wasn’t the first time it had happened and he seemed almost used to it, retrieving his boxers from the ground “… it is fucking Saturday morning”.

“… I had the need of a professional consult” he simply replied, muttering lightly as Heahmund pushed his shirt onto the poor girl, barely able to calm herself, but glad for the shirt.

“Fucking come back Monday” the girl sneaked to the bedroom, probably to retrieve her clothes.

“It’s urgent”.

“How can it be so fucking urgent to disrupt my lovely Saturday morning?” replied immediately Heahmund, pushing a hand through his hair shaking them lightly.

“I have son” muttered Ivar and Heahmund promptly stopped what he was doing.

“… no, you fucking don’t, son of a bitch of a cripple” shouted back Heahmud, coming towards him in a threatening way “… you told you couldn’t get your cock up!”.

Once the company had gone pretty well and they had gone out to party: it turned out that Ivar was a sad drunk and had dunked onto Heahmund is entire family’s history.

“… I could… once” he couldn’t still believe it “… she was an old school sweetheart, it was my first time”.

And yours.

He remembered the way your face had morphed in pain and the blood that had coated the sheets of your bed, the way you had rushed to hide them, obliging Ivar to throw them.

‘Please my parents will fucking get angry with me if they found out I had sex!’.

How pissed had they been when they discovered you were carrying a child?

“What you are telling me… is that, my friend, who constantly complains he can’t get it up, once did?” and before Ivar could glare at him a skeptic look “… and had a fucking child? How fucking low are the chances to get pregnant on your first try?”.

“The gods love me” replied Ivar, a smug smirk on his face, although he didn’t understand why.

“No no, God fucking hates you” mumbled Heahmund as he sat onto his sofa, meanwhile Ivar moved onto the farthest armchair, checking it for any body fluids “… and how did you discover?”.

“I met her in a park, and she had her child with her” Heahmund was the one to send him a skeptical look this time “… he had braces, like me… I know he is my child Heahmund”.

“And you believe that because he had braces, he might be your son?”.

Ok, honestly that sounded creepy.

“… Heahmund, the timing is perfect, and the braces aren’t simply there for show, he fucking has osteogenesis imperfecta!”.

“Then why don’t you go to her house and talk with her about this?” shout back the lawyer, making Ivar still on the spot.

He had seen the way you had shrank away from him as he had taken in your son.

You had hidden him from Ivar, willingly.

He was sure.

Hence, he couldn’t just barge in your house and ask for explanations.

“… she hasn’t simply forgotten to notify me the fact that she was pregnant, Heahmund, she hid it willingly” and then he felt like he had to share what had happened in that diner, not so long ago “… I broke up with her a few weeks after we had… we did the deed… it wasn’t anything serious… my brothers had dared me to do it, since they said we were too clingy… and I… I would have cleared the entire thing the following day…”.

“That is a truly enlightening lesson on toxic masculinity believe me” humored him Heahmund, as he adjusted on the sofa “I’d say she has her reasons to make you stay away and I… don’t understand your need to meet her and the son… look at you: you are successful, you have a beautiful soon-to-be-wife and you are trying for a child”.

But he couldn’t just simply shake off his son’s eyes.

The joy in them, the way you had naturally acted with him that honestly had brought a smile onto Ivar’s face.

It wasn’t easy to simply forget about this.

“She works as a waitress” Heahmund gave him a simply skeptic nod as if to say ‘what about it’ “… what if she can’t take care of my child? What if she has money troubles?”.

“I’d avoid saying that to her face… women don’t take easily words like that”.

“I just want to try to make this right”.

Something in Ivar’s tone got the best of Heahmund, who huffed annoyed, but replied.

“… we take the law outside of it for a bit, or you are going to scare her… try to set up a meeting with her and talk about the child, make sure that you tell her you are doing this for the child’s wellness”.

“Ok” that sounded reasonable and he could check out the diner he had gone to yesterday to try to talk to you: at work you certainly wouldn’t have thrown a fit “… and this goes unsaid, but… don’t utter a word to Freydis”.

“… my lips are sealed” and then eyeing the almost dressed woman he was just fucking on his kitchen table a few minutes before, he muttered hungrily smiling at her “… but now I have business to attend to”.

---

Lunch with Eric and your mother had eased your nerves although you were still nervous about Ivar.

But working helped you ease the stress, keeping your mind busy, as you scurried around the tables, thinking that not only you were covering the afternoon shift, but you would be working till midnight at a nearby bar.

And then, you saw Ivar.

He was sat onto one of the table, and not only you almost stumbled onto one of your fellow coworkers, but you were sure that you were having hallucinations, till Ivar got up, catching your gaze onto him.

And then he moved towards you.

And you run your way out back in the kitchen, an amazing idea, had Will been there.

But the kitchen was empty, since Will had moved onto the bar stool to chat amicably with Mrs. Innbitt, a nice older woman who had lost her husband a few years ago and would try every receipt Will would give her.

You were just able to steal a small look at the barstool, because as you turned Ivar was upon you.

You let out a shocked screech, immediately shutting yourself with a hand onto your mouth, hoping you hadn’t alerted anybody, although you definitely felt uneasy.

Not only Ivar was closer to you than it was healthy, but it immediately brought you back to the child discourse.

“… now you are officially stalking me” you mumbled, as he backed away quickly, immediately understanding your discomfort.

“Maybe I am doing it because you hid my son for five years” he replied, shocking you enough that you were the one to take a step back, stumbling onto a small table with flour on it, your hands absorbing it, staining them white.

“It isn’t your son” it wasn’t a proper defense, but it was all you had in mind.

“… oh, then you have a fetish for cripples” this time it was Ivar who had raised his voice and you gave him a hateful glare, being the one to tell him to ‘kindly fucking lower his voice’.

“What the fuck, Ivar?” and now it was all rage “… you come back five years and expect everything to fall on its place?!”.

“… I would have expected you to tell me, at least, that you were pregnant with my child”.

Although he hadn’t screamed, his words hurt you even more, and you shrank in yourself, as your legs lightly trembled.

“… it isn’t your child” you were simply able to utter, as he simply shook his head.

“(Y/N) don’t treat me like an idiot” he stammered, and in his tone you could almost feel the Ivar you had known, begging desperately to be allowed to show his worth “… the kid… he is like me, I have seen myself enough times in the mirror to know what ‘osteogenesis’ is like”.

“He is my child, solely mine” you muttered, grabbing onto the table, as you dug your fingers in it “… you are simply a sperm donor”.

Ivar seemed taken aback and the young Ivar you had seen in his look quickly disappeared.

“… that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be part of his life, (Y/N)”.

You hated the way his name sounded in his mouth.

Because it sounded like the only way it was pronounced.

“No, I chose what is and isn’t part of his life” you shouted back, although you were well aware you must have sounded like a dictator.

Ivar seemed taken aback from your anger: you had never been like that with him, but you had certainly grown up so he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

He took a big breath to collect himself.

And then spoke.

“…I know, but I also know what it means for a child to grow up without a father” he spoke, each word slowed down to represent its meaning “… don’t let him become me”.

“That’s what I am doing and that is why I don’t want you near him”.

“Then I don’t think there are other solutions” he looked at you in the eyes “… I do think that I’ll have my lawyers know…”.

That was your worst nightmare.

Your eyes froze onto him and your hands moved on their own onto his arms, surprising you and him, as you immediately retreated, but you still saw Ivar’s nostalgy in his eyes.

“… please don’t”.

You wouldn’t have enough money to support yourself and Eric’s health, paying for a lawyer and battles for the custody of a child were long and tiring.

“… then give me a chance!” Ivar sounded sincere, almost desperate in his attempt to meet your son “… I am not asking for him to become my son, just… I want to know him”.

Something broke inside of you.

But you couldn’t surrender so quickly.

“… what made you change your mind?” you asked him, bringing yourself to look at him in the eyes, in order for him not to lie to your face “… about children… you didn’t want to have them, back then…”.

“I…” he seemed not to know it he, himself “… me and my fiancée are trying for a child…”.

“He won’t be your surrogate child or a training dummie” you immediately spoke out, your tone stern but not broken “… he is a child, and if you want him to be… if you want to…”.

“I know this isn’t easy to accept” his tone was strangely soothing “… but I don’t mean to hurt him”.

“… you better” you took a deep breath, getting away from the table “… I am thinking about this… I’ll give you an answer before next Saturday”.

He seemed baffled by the fact that you were attempting to take time but allowed you with a small nod.

“… I’ll leave you my number” he simply mumbled, as you moved out of the kitchen.

Dread was setting on your stomach in that moment, but strangely you stole one last look at Ivar who was searching his card in his wallet, being able to stare at him without him noticing.

He had certainly changed in all the ways that heightened his figure, bringing him to gain muscles, but his expression had remained the same shadowed and grumpy, in a way that got your heart to gently shudder at that sight.

But you immediately turned as Ivar found the card and moved towards you, limping in that way that he hated but to you it was as familiar as if a day hadn’t passed since you had first met him.

And fell in love with him.

“I’ll call you” you mumbled, taking the card and he tried to smile at you, but worry still shone on his face, and although he hadn’t a reason to want your child to be also his, he… seemed to want it…

… desperately.

“I hope you do” he mumbled, before walking away and turning one last time, effectively surprising “… can I… can I at least know his name?”.

“Eric” you should have avoided saying it, not wanting Ivar to find him, God only knew what that cunning shit could do.

But he simply seemed out of his wits, amazed by the name.

“It’s a good name”.

---

You had named your child Eric, a typical Norse name, meaning ‘ever ruler’.

It couldn’t simply be a coincidence.

It meant something.

You still had somehow a respect for Ivar in naming the child that way, which could show that, although you had been truly cold-hearted with him, you still… latched onto him.

As he did with you.

The memories and the desire to be closer intensifying as the memory of your child came to replay in his mind.

Eric had his eyes, but he had your smile, open and careless, in a way that made him carefree and frail.

He wondered whether he wouldn’t fall asleep at night because his legs hurt too much.

He certainly had back then.

If his braces were comfortable enough.

If you kissed him on the forehead as Aslaugh always did with him.

If being a parent meant worrying, he certainly was on the right way.

He fell onto the bed, completely exhausted, as he tried to kick off his unlaced boots, a message on his phone shining to show a message from Heahmund.

‘How did it go, baby daddy?’.

He was barely able to unlock his phone before he felt the telltale rummaging of keys against metal signaling that Freydis had come home and he made sure to lock his phone, pushing it into the first drawer of his bedside table, as he adjusted onto the bed, stretching himself and pushing the braces off the bed, knowing it pissed off Freydis to find them there.

“I am home!” she giggled gently and any trouble he might be having was washed away from his mind, as he tried to reign himself away from the memory of Eric and (Y/N).

“I am glad you are” he mumbled softly, as she dropped her bags in the kitchen, got a small drink from the orange juice cardboard, as she always did after the long session of hormones and other therapies “… I am in the bedroom”.

She immediately joined him, her heeled shoes already off, as she discarded her coat and jacket, revealing an elegant white blouse, showing her small curves, matched perfectly with a black skirt, the image of the elegant businesswoman.

And although she was irresistible, his mind went back to you in a comfortable hoodie and worn out sneakers.

Which wasn’t good.

“… how did your day go?” she asked, as he moved onto the bed, a bit far away from him to get off her stockings.

“Ahem…” ‘I have solely discovered that my high school sweetheart has had a child with me’ “…it was nice… what about you?”.

He tried to shift the attention, grateful that the hormonal cures made her tired and sleepy.

“… as always tiring” she mumbled, moving lightly towards him, a few buttons of her blouse coming undone in a naïve provocation “… but I am glad, the doctors are saying that it’s improving!”.

“Oh, that is nice” he says without thinking too much about it “… have they told you something about me?”.

He grimaced when Freydis nodded her head, but was immediately comforted as she grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly.

“… the usual hour, next week” she mumbled gently, rubbing her thumb onto the back of his hand, in a gesture that used to be soothingly alluring for him, but now he couldn’t help but feeling like she was rubbing piece of coarse paper against it “… I know it isn’t easy for you, but… I appreciate it Ivar, you are working for our future”.

He had never wanted to have children till Freydis had come in the picture.

He still didn’t know why he wanted them maybe it was the desperate need for something to leave behind and Freydis’ love for them.

Their relationship had definitely moved faster than it was conventionally approved, but he hadn’t minded it.

He had never had somebody who had cared for him, so when Freydis had come in the picture, so gentle and sweet, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from falling in love with her, to the point that she could ask for the moon and he would have given it to her.

He hadn’t been in love like this with you, it wasn’t this intense and maddening, it had been low and timid, in the shy way all high school crushes were born.

But it still haunted him to these days.

“… Ivar” called him Freydis and he immediately turned to her, with a questioning look “… you haven’t heard anything I said, have you?”.

“I am sorry, I just have a bit of… I am just tired”.

“So, am I” shot back gently Freydis, stirring herself so that she could make her body come closer to him, pushing her hand into his “… let’s just go to bed, and talk about all of this tomorrow”.

He nodded, adjusting himself on his side.

“Goodnight, love”.

He couldn’t help but feel more relaxed because of this, but the last image that laid in front of him was Eric grabbing your hand, as you ran away from him.

“Goodnight, Ivar”.

He wondered, at last, if you had wished Eric ‘goodnight’.

---

The entire week had been pretty tough on you.

But what was worse was the fact that Eric had realized your bad mood pretty quickly, even going as far as asking you on Sunday, before leaving for your job, if you were angry with him.

‘No no, sweetie’ you had tucked his hair behind his ears, gently kissing his forehead ‘… I am just a bit busy with some things’.

‘… need my help?’ had asked the little boy, making you smile sadly at him.

‘You already give me too much help, sweetie, just think about your soccer match!’ you had then ruffled his hair but sent a meaningful look at his mother.

Please don’t let him know of everything that has been going on.

You either found out a way to pay your lawyer or you would have to let Ivar see your child.

You hadn’t met him in five years, so you didn’t trust him, in the slightest.

Your mother, although she would have supported any decision you would have taken, insisted that you tried to mend the relationship with Ivar, even more after she had heard about his suggestion of helping you financially.

‘Mom I am not going to let him control me with money! He can’t buy his son back from me!’.

You had almost felt insulted by her proposal.

‘… but (Y/N) think about this attentively: he might help us with Eric’s cures, don’t do it for him but do it for your child’.

‘I can take care of my child’ you had retorted, and your mother had eventually dropped the argument.

Now it was Wednesday night, you had checked Eric’s homework and were getting ready for your first trial at the art gallery, worrying lightly due to your mother’s absence.

She had promised you she would take care of Eric, meanwhile you were out.

It was strange she still wasn’t back there, and when it came to an hour before the entire thing you tried calling her, worried both about work and her as Eric finished his dinner, watching the latest Avenger movie.

You hadn’t been able to get in contact with your mother till fifteen minutes had passed, and when she had answered you the situation had worsened.

‘(Y/N)… I was at the theatre, what are you calling me for?’.

“Mom you should have… you were supposed to be babysitting Eric, meanwhile I was on the trial thing at the gallery!” you remembered her, trying to understand what to do, since your mother was clearly unavailable for the evening.

You tried to remember the name of the babysitters you liked, immediately running their numbers in your memory

“… (Y/N) no you didn’t tell me, I am sure…” you huffed out loudly “… don’t huff at me young lady! It wasn’t written in the timetable!”.

And to your horror, as you moved to check, you found out you hadn’t written it, probably for the fact you were too taken by your inner turmoil and indecision about Ivar.

“… I am coming back immediately, but it’ll take me an hour, sweetie, I have to wait for Marissa!”.

You had thought, as you rushed because it was missing simply half an hour to your interview, it would be simple.

But it wasn’t… in the slightest.

Half of the babysitters weren’t available, and the other ones didn’t babysit anymore.

You didn’t trust your neighbors enough to put Eric in their hands, but the list was running short and you would be running late.

This honestly terrified you extremely aware that the job might be an amazing offer to help you take less works and stay more with Eric earning better, but you couldn’t just leave Eric alone.

The thing was starting to become low key nerve-wrecking for you, because although you loved your role as a mother, you had loved the thought of going back into a place where you wouldn’t be serving plates and calming drunkards.

You couldn’t believe that you were ruining completely that chance for you.

Then your phone buzzed again, an unknown number and you answered thinking that maybe it was one of the babysitters’ friends.

But as you picked up the call you were surprised.

“Hello, (Y/N)” Ivar’s voice was pretty hoarse through the phone “… your mother has called me”.

You almost cursed, stopping yourself a you realized that Eric was in the room.

“… what do you want, Ivar? It isn’t Sunday yet!”.

“Your mother talked about you having need of a babysitter” he ignored your indignant tone.

“No no, don’t worry I solved it” you replied, almost slamming the ‘end call’ button.

“(Y/N) I can come, I am nearby, I don’t have a trouble…”.

“Ivar this isn’t… this isn’t…” Gosh you didn’t know what to say.

Certainly, you were still wary about the thought of actually letting your son meet up Ivar, but it was a solution to a problem that was tormenting your body, enough to make you tremble.

“This isn’t an official meet up, you can give me every rule you want, I can also just stay silent for the entire night, I just…” and he took a deep breath, it was evident that he was both hopeful and stubborn and there was a desperation in his voice that froze you “… I just want to help you”.

You thought about it: you either gave up the chance for which you had been working so hard and which wouldn’t come back or you allowed the father of your child to see him, which was an alternative that scared you in a way that was completely irrational.

“I…” you didn’t know, you didn’t know what to do, but then took a small look at Eric, trying ‘discreetly’ to listen onto your conversation, and as you met those beautiful blue eyes… you were just frozen on the spot, and answered with a lower tone “… you can come, but you are not his father, you a friend of mine”.

“Thank you, (Y/N)” his tone was almost moved, and you tried to stop yourself from matching his.

“My mother will come in an hour, all you have to do is check that Eric take his medicines and gets in bed, without breaking any bones”.

“I know the drill, believe me” his voice was more joyful than sarcastic which was strange “… I am going to take care of him”.

“You better” you mumbled biting on your tongue “… this is your chance to prove me that you are worthy to be part of my child’s life, you better not fuck it up”.

---

As he had arrived you were in a black attire, a small little back outfit on you and although he was well aware it wasn’t as expensive as the ones Freydis wore, it certainly did the best it could for your figure.

He had tried his best not to stare at you, meanwhile you explained him the rules: no sugar, no movies, Eric just had to take his medicines and be in bed, he could play a bit and maybe read to develop his abilities, but he needed to be in bed for when your mother came back.

Eric, for the entire time, had remained in his room, although the door was open and Ivar had tried to take a few looks at the child, trying to see if his memory remembered him properly.

‘… Ivar I am trusting you with the most precious thing in my life, please… don’t…’.

‘I am not an idiot, (Y/N), you should know it better than anyone’ the sharpness of his tone had made you shudder lightly but you had hidden it, simply smirking at him one last way, calling Eric over, and kneeling at his side.

‘Sweetie, mommy is going to work tonight but grannie will soon be back, in the meanwhile you’ll stay with my friend, Ivar, the one from the park’ you explained to him gently, as you adjusted his cute hoodie.

‘The one like me?’ wondered aloud the boy, immediately moving to look at Ivar’s legs and crutches ‘… hi I am Eric’.

And he had shot out his hand to Ivar, leaving him confused, meanwhile you sent him a small nod, as if to allow him that grip.

‘Ivar’ he muttered, although he tried to brighten his tone with a small smile, but Eric didn’t seem to notice it, instead checking out his braces ‘… I like your braces, buddy’.

‘Ohhh, mommy got them solely for me!’ he explained enthusiastically, before he shout out a small leg to show him that at the end there were some stickers of the Avengers, meanwhile and… rather sarcastically a few of ‘The Flash’ ‘They are cool, aren’t they?’.

‘Super-duper’ he spoke, before shooting a reassuring look at (Y/N) ‘I think that we will be alright, you can go’.

‘Mommy is going to miss you’ you simply replied, not looking at Ivar and kissing the small man, who immediately washed away the kiss, faking of being ashamed.

At least him and the little man had something similar.

“Please don’t…” you spoke, one last time grabbing your coat.

“I won’t, now go and get that job”.

The smile you had was the gentlest he had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but stare at it even as you closed the door behind you, shooting one last look at Eric.

He was brought back from his trance by a light grip onto his hand, Eric.

“Want to play Avengers with me?”.

And for a moment he was thankful that Hvitserk had brought him along to see that movie.

They didn’t spend much time discussing any plot, the small boy playing on his own and following around Ivar’s bad guy, and he immediately stopped as Ivar asked him whether he had a favorite superhero.

“It’s Thor!” he replied, immediately, grabbing the blond-haired hero “… he is super cool, and mom has told me all about him! The my… myth…mythlogy!”

“Mythology?” he replied, softly and the boy nodded “… has she told you about the time he had to dress up as a woman to get back his hammer?”.

Apparently no, with the way he shook his head immediately, lighting up interested.

The rest of the time passed with him telling his child stories, even when your mother walked in home and smirked at Ivar, although her eyes showed that she hadn’t forgotten the heartbreak he had made you go through.

‘Can you handle Eric for a bit longer? I am going to use the bathroom and then start getting him ready’ he looked at Eric who was pleading him with his eyes for another story.

‘I think I can’.

He then moved away as your mother came back, tucking in Eric and checking his bones and if he had taken the medicines and then wished ‘goodnight’ to him softly blowing a soft smile on his forehead.

He almost wished he could have done the same.

He hadn’t spent so much time with the boy, but he couldn’t help but feel attached to him already.

He had been worried to find somebody like him as a child, spoiled and grumpy, but Eric was an happy child, no matter his legs, he was active and sweet, curious enough to show that he was smart, but he wasn’t as cunning as him.

He believed that you had done an amazing good job, raising up the child.

Your mother came back, with a small smirk on her face.

“He says he wants to say ‘goodbye’ to you”.

And like that he slipped inside of the room of his son, taking a better look at it, realizing that it was a small and pretty crowded but tidy, and he didn’t know whether it was you who kept in order for the boy, himself.

But Eric soon caught his eyes again.

“… hey, Ivar!” he turned to him, stumbling closer to the bed “… your stories are even better than mom’s!”.

“I know, I know” he winked at him jokingly “… but don’t tell her, if I know one thing about your mother it is that she hates losing”.

“She does!” shouted back Eric, giggling lightly, as you always did when you heard something funny.

He wondered if you still did.

“Well I am glad you liked my stories! I hope to come over again to tell you more!” he replied, tentatively hoping that Eric speaking with his mother might convince her, although… he knew you could be even more stubborn than him.

“… I’ll tell her! And maybe we can watch ‘The Flash’ together! I can show you why I like him so so much”.

He honestly hated superheroes but due to the huge smirk on his son’s face he couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, and maybe… just maybe he would have finally enjoyed those movies.

“Of course, kiddo!” he promised, even swearing with the pinky promise, a small smirk on his own face, and the sudden realization of how small his son’s hand was instead of his, in a way that made him almost shiver at his frailty.

And he made to turn around, definitely nervous about how and what he should do next.

He knew that you wouldn’t have liked if he tried to say the things that were going around in his head in that moment, and although he knew it was a tough battle, he respected the boundaries you put around yourself.

“… Ivar!” Eric called him out one last time, his gaze focused onto his legs, in a way that showed him immediately the theme of the talk they were going to have “… do they also hurt you very much?”.

He stopped, the sunny boy he had met a few moments disappeared in a more introvert one, almost ashamed of his question, and Ivar couldn’t help but feel like that was his part, that was his legacy to him.

He had also been a scared little boy wondering what would be happening to him, if it was normal, finding a reason behind his pain.

“Yes, they still do” he couldn’t lie to his face like that “… but… you get used to it, and there are some things that can be useful for the pain…”.

“Mom always says that I am extraordinary for… the pain… like I am ever better than Flash!” he mumbled, a smile making its way on his face “… you are pretty cool too, Ivar”.

Although he hated all those stupid encouragement speeches, the sincerity in his son’s voice, shook him.

“… thank you, kiddo” and he then moved away, finding you in the hallways, trying to discard the painful heels you were wearing in a way that brought his heart back at your first prom together and how you had discarded the uncomfortable shoes, when you had hidden away from everybody in the porch of his house, bunching up the dress, to be more comfortable.

“Oh… you are back” he couldn’t help but feel stupid, but you didn’t give it too much thought, instead checking for Eric’s room, walking past him without giving him a second glance.

Eric faked of being asleep, but you still caught him, a small smirk onto your face, and you moved inside, tucking him better, as you pushed his braces away so that he wouldn’t trip over them when he would wake up tomorrow.

All the gestures of an attentive mother.

He couldn’t help but be a bit amazed, and as you finished the entire trip to Eric’s room.

You closed the door behind you, as he felt your mother doing the same, although he wouldn’t be surprised to know that she was listening with her ear onto the door.

“He seemed pretty happy” you muttered, clutching yourself tighter in your jacket.

“I hope your interview went well” he replied, a bit embarrassed suddenly.

“I’ll know in a few days” your voice didn’t let go anything in your tone, but he couldn’t help but feel like the night had gone well, no matter your worry.

“When will I know if…” ‘if I am allowed to see my son again?’.

“In a few days” your impassible tone broke a bit, letting some emotion pass “… thank you for coming”.

“He is my child, that’s the least I could do” he shot back, immediately “… even if you don’t want to accept it”.

Like that you were again still and rigid with him, going to the door to open it for him, in an obvious sign that he should go.

“… goodnight, Ivar”.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)”.

And now all he had to was hope he had done a good impression.

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1-800-seo · 4 years

Text

1-800-𝗦𝗘𝖮'𝘀 𖣘 "𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 (𝗨𝗻𝗶)𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲"

- 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗑 𝖸/𝖭

- 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿/𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄/𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖽/𝖾2𝗅/𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾 𝖠𝖴

- 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌), 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗃𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍, 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

- 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 2984

- 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗑𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾'𝗌 𝗀𝗈 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗄.

doing laundry is absolutely one of your least favourite things in the world beside soggy socks

so you’re in a bad mood as soon as you walk into the campus launderette to say the least

the launderette is empty bar one dude you’d seen around the global technics centre

if you remember rightly he’s a European studies major

odd choice but you do you and all that

now you’re not weird or anything but you have a preference on what type of washing machine you use

I know I know kind of unorthodox

but the old washing machines take 30 mins longer so you’d prefer a newer one

unfortunately the only one left is directly next to this familiar-faced stranger and his laundry

your better judgement is telling you no but your impatience is telling you yes

and so you dump your laundry onto the floor next to the stranger and his and start sorting through for all your whites

your piles mingle a tad as they overlap beside each other like Venn diagrams of assorted underwear and other garments

his consisting of only whites

yours a jumbled mess since you had to wash all of your stuff

in sync you both pick up your washing and put it into the machine

you catch his dark wide eyes as you both straighten up and he lets out an awkward low-voiced giggle

your cheeks immediately flush pink and a bashful smile creeps up to your lips

“you’re from the global centre, right?”

you ask testing the waters

“I am, I’m a European studies major, my name’s Jungkook. I recognise you, you’re in linguistics class right?”

“Yeah, I’m a linguistics major so you’ll mostly see me there, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook”

you say with a smile as your hands fidget with the door handle of the washing machine

“It’s nice to meet you too, I thought I recognised you from somewhere, but it’s because I see you sometimes when I have to do extra credit European language projects. What’s your name?”

he says tilting his head like a curious puppy

“its ______”

you say as you bow to him politely

“Can I ask you something? I have to do a project on European languages and their similarities to others. The professor wants us to speak to outsiders for references so would I be able to collab on a project with you sometime in the future, if it’s not too much to ask?”

he averts his eyes from yours and blushes lightly

“Oh yeah sure, that’s no issue! It’ll be beneficial to me too because the linguistics portion of the course is coming up soon, so it’s a great idea.”

you beam at him

“Could I get your number?”

their is a pause that feels like an eternity between your next words and his last

the cause of this is your mind being far too focused on his wavy dark hair and his clear doe eyes

you snap out of your daze

“yeah totally, one sec”

you pull out your phone from your backpack on top of the washing machine and input his contact name and number as he reads it out

“Thanks for that, it’ll be a big help, let me know when you want to link up” he replies

and with that you had his number and continued on with your washing

21/10 18:32

Jungkook ༄ : not to be accusatory but do you happen to own a pair of RED socks?

You: yes, why do you ask??

Jungkook ༄ : well ALL of my washing seems to be PINK!!

You: just because I own a pair of red socks doesn’t mean it was me 😠

Jungkook ༄ : yes but you were the only one in the launderette when I was there,,

Jungkook ༄ : smh gonna be turning up to class in pink tshirts and and socks, everyone be thinking ive made a new fashion choices when it’s really just because SOMEONE can’t keep their clothes separate from others B/

You: 1) it’s not my fault that my socks decided to migrate to new lands

You: 2) why, are you scared of pink or something? your ego too fragile to wear a ‘woman’s colour’?

You: 3) did you really use a sunglasses sad face emoticon lol

Jungkook ༄ : girl u owe me big time for all these clothes you ruined 😩

Jungkook ༄ : also im not scared of pink I just dont want to be wearing pink shirts to all of my formal events for the next ten years

Jungkook ༄ : and yes im sWaG so my emoticons are sWaG duh

You : ruined? ruINED? RUINED? I did not ruin anything, I simply spiced up your wardrobe boo x

You : oh no he’s a 2012 hype beast 🤦🏻‍♀️

Jungkook ༄ : how dare you call me something so sacreligious as a hypebeast!!

Jungkook ༄ : I am gucci not channel thank you very much

Jungkook ༄ : anyways I gtg write a report, speak soon red socks

Seen ✓

Jungkook was in fact not writing a report

he was planning revenge dun dun dun~~~

his plan was to do the exact same thing you had done to him

but he had to be cunning about it

and so the week went on

he was scrolling through twt when he received a new follower

it was the one and only @_______

and lo and behold their last tweet was “tysm Seokjin oppa for buying me a personal washing machine,, now I can do my most hated thing but at home!!”

hehehe

an idea sprung into kookie’s head

he didn’t have to try and spike your washing at the launderette

he could do it in a place you’d never suspect,, your home

now he only had to find out where you lived

just stalkerish tingz

he had to be lowkey about this

so he decided to ask his best mate and social butterfly of a friend Taehyung whether he knew you

and of course he did lol

“Hell yeah I know where she lives, she had the best party of the whole term, Jimin was so drunk he started chatting himself up in the mirror”

“Damn that sounds like a good time, probs should start going to these parties you invite me to”

“defo should, anyways I’ll tell u as long as you promise not to spread the information or use it for pervy or questionable reasons”

“I promise not to spread it or use it for pervy or questionable reasons”

he replies in monotone voice and his hand on his chest like an oath

and so that was how he acquired your address

simple enough really

and so that’s the events that lead him to be crawling through your dorm window however paused like a deer in headlights at the questionable sounds coming from the room across

he was squatted on the window ledge like spider man, red sock in hand and hood up

it was 9:00pm and your university apartment was supposed to be empty at this time

you had your class on now but he hadn’t accounted for your roommate

hence why he had frozen at the unsavoury sounds echoing round the apartment

low moans and grunts emanated from the room across

dEsGöStEn

he had to get to the kitchen without alerting the dusk time love makers

he could do it if the floor plan was the same as his apartment block and he bet his reputation on that

if he got caught he’d never hear the end of it from his mates and your roommate might even call the campus police if they were spooked enough

and so he clambered through your bedroom window and onto your bed underneath

unmade bed might he add but what did he expect from a uni student

with wide eyes he listened for any noise of suspecting roommates and examined your room

the desk was littered with papers and an oversized lava lamp stood stout in the corner of the room

a lacy bra was hung over your wardrobe handle

he shoved away the idea of you wearing it and continued with his night time plot

slowly and stealthily he crept through the halls of the apartment and out to the kitchen

on the maiden was already a neatly hung load of whites

he’d have to assume it was yours otherwise he’d have to go back to your room to get laundry

he bundled up the clothes and shoved them in the washing machine with the incriminating red sock he’d brought and set it to economy spin

round and round it spun, getting progressively louder as it went

he had to get out of there asap

tip-toeing as he went past the questionable lewd noises, he finally made it to your bedroom

he made one last check to see if he’d left any damage in your room

his eyes fell upon that same bra

damn his manhood making him think predictably

he shoved the thought away and departed

25/10 22:08

You: what in the hell did you do to my washing!!!?!!!

You: unless it was a ghost it HAD TO BE YOU JEON 🤬

Jungkook ༄ : wym I don’t even know where you live 😑

Jungkook ༄ : what’ve you done now?

You: IT HAS TO BE YOU!! SOMEONE FRIGGIN TURNED MY WASHING PINK AND I PROMISE YOU IT WASNT ME

Jungkook ༄ : how would i do that?? I don’t have like magic clothes dyeing skills boo

You: I SWEAR it was you!!

You: what do you want to bet it was u

Jungkook ༄ : I won’t bet anything I’m poor

You: that means you did it!

Jungkook ༄ : if you come with me to Taehyung’s party tomorrow I’ll tell u everything

Jungkook ༄ : but only if you go, that’s the terms of agreement

You: that’s all the incriminating evidence I need!! you basically just admitted to it you know?

You: however for reasons sake I will attend 👀

Jungkook ༄ : see you then red socks x

You: I suppose u will x

time passed quickly and soon it was Taehyung’s party

You’d known Taehyung since middle school however since starting college you hadn’t seen much of him

schedules clashed often so the only time you got to see him was at a good party

nothing wrong with that, you just probably haven’t had a completely sober conversation with him in 2 years

he’s good fun, Taehyung, so you hoped Jungkook wasn’t as much as a killjoy as he’d been this week

his little antics (that you’d yet to figure out) had caused your work uniform to turn bright pink

and thus the ‘pink princess’ nickname at work began

you felt like sharpay, everyone in white, but you pink

you’d quite like to knock Jungkook down a peg after that

and so you made your way to the infamous Taehyung’s party

he welcomed you as you entered the large door of his fraternity house

behind his head of black curls you could see the mess that is a raging college party

young people, at assumably different levels of intoxication, were everywhere

some were stood all the way up the expanse of the stairs even

you looked around and spotted a familiar brunette in the kitchen sat on the large marble counter tops

he’s chatting to some pink haired girl beside him

you stalk up to him like a woman on a mission and jokingly (a little too hard for jokingly) push his shoulders with both hands

he immediately snaps his head round to face you and his eyes widen with shock

“I have a bone to pick with you.” you say as stern as you can

you grab hold a fistful of his black T-shirt and drag him into a side room

once you enter only then do you realise it’s a laundry room

how fitting 👀

you say “Come on, tell me how you did it.” as you cross your arms and glare at him

“Did what?”

“you know what I mean, don’t play dumb with me, how did you turn all of my washing pink, and might I add, my work uniform too!”

“Ohhh that, it was far too easy. You really should keep your windows locked when you’re out.” he says as he laughs, like the whole thing is amusing

“So you’re telling me you broke into my apartment?! How did u know where I live??”

at this point you’re pacing around the room, arms flailing wide at the sudden discovery

“Well, I may or may not have asked Taehyung, and he told me, and then I entered, I did not break into your apartment. Anyway, I didn’t touch anything but the washing machine and I had the lovely experience of being serenaded by your roommate’s sex symphony.”

he made a step forward towards you, almost in a challenging way

“Oh I’ll be having harsh words with him later...” you say as you uncross your arms and put them on your hips.

you stand thinking for a second before it sinks in

“Wait.. what did you hear? You said sex symphony, right?”

“Uh yeah, your roommate was proper going at it with someone. At least he had the decency to do it whilst you were out, I guess.” He chuckled

“Oh my days, that means Hobi must’ve had Hyerim round! Go him I guess, but also ewww”

“Anyways we’ve bounced around the issue enough here, you ruined my clothes and broke into my apartment!” you exclaim backing up against the wall

Jungkook starts to close the gap between you two

“So? What’re you going to do about?”

your back pressed flush with the wall, you start to realise how close he really is

you can see the small freckles that dot the bridge of his nose, the thick eyelashes that frame his eyelids, the totally sinful look in his eyes

like this you start to realise how shockingly handsome he is

no wonder he has a slight reputation in class

you had no idea why he was looking at you this way

“I-I’ll call campus security..” You begin

“Will you really now?” he retorts as he slams his hand into the wall behind you, caging you in

“I w-will” a whisper that falls on deaf ears

before you even register, his lips have attached themselves to yours and you feel his thumb under your jaw

he works his lips against yours and you feel your legs start to tremble

he tastes sweet and robust, like syrup on your tastebuds

you mould into his kiss and then break away, panting for air, wanting more

everything felt so wrong, yet so right at the same time

it was as if your current issue had melted away and the only thing you could focus on was the way he looked at you and how his soft lips felt against yours

“J-Jungkook? What’re we doing?” you asked, a giggle leaving you

you rest your head against chest, clasping at his tshirt

“I couldn’t resist, you’re so hot when you’re angry”

he places a firm kiss against your cheek, takes your hand in his, and leads you back to the party

you couldn’t believe you’d just done that, let him kiss you so easily

but once you let him, it felt so right, like it was supposed to be that way, him lapping you up like a parched man to water

it felt so natural to have his arm round your waist like it was now

the pair of you approached Taehyung, still clutched together

“What happened to you two? I heard _____ went off on one and then you both were missing for ages. And now you both show up all over each other... what went down 👀”

“Well you know, hate and love are both forms of passion.” Jungkook says with a smirk

“excuse me? Assuming I love you? I let you kiss me once and you say it’s love? I’ll show you love” you retort

“Oooh she’s feisty; so you kissed? Damn, things’re moving quickly for you two, one minute Jungkook’s asking me for your address, the next you’re sucking each other’s faces off. I’m one of hell of a wing man, if I do say so myself.”

Taehyung flips an imaginary lock of hair out of his way like a sassy high school cheerleader

You both just laugh, at Taehyung, and because of how crazy it is,

It’s almost like you didn’t know you liked him like that until it smacked you in the face

“Do you want a drink? A beer?” Jungkook asks pouring himself a glass of punch

“That’d be great, thank you” you reply as you realise how much more time you want to spend with this annoying but totally handsome dork of a boy

༄ 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀! ༄

This was just a little fic I wrote a while ago which had formatting errors so I fixed it for y’alI, Hope you enjoyed it ☺️ Let me know what you thought of it and feel free to like and reblog <3

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lilixloveswhump · 4 years

Text

“Everything is okay.”

Whumptober Day 6 (Prompts: “Get it out”, “Stop, please”)

Fandom: X-Men

Characters: Erik Lehnsherr, Peter Maximoff, Charles Xavier, Raven Darkholme, Hank McCoy, Kurt Wagner

Word Count: 1980

A/N: IHATETHISSOMUCHOMGGG and it’s FUCKING LATE it’s 12:12 AM and I have a class tomorrow at 9:05 AM and I still need to shower and I might have a breakdown so much for getting this out on time hAhA. bUT aT lEaSt iTs dOnE!!1! I didn’t proofread because I hated it while writing it and I go back and read it in the state I am I might really actually cry :) So please excuse any errors, my mental health and self confidence literally cannot handle fixing them right now. We will try again tomorrow :)))

TW: blood (like a lot, but not all that graphic cuz i got lazy with description), guns? bullets? one swear word (poop), peter gets shot

He swore to God he was cursed. Why else was everyone around him constantly dying? It was God’s punishment for something, he just wished it didn’t always have to involve the people he loved; His mother, his wife, his daughter, and now…

Erik was going to watch his son die too.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Some mutant children were being held hostage by a group of Purifiers; they were just supposed to grab them and get out. Kurt, Raven, and Peter had volunteered to go first and Charles was happy to send them. The only reason Erik was sent along was that the kidnappers were armed, Charles had said with guns. For once, Erik was there just in case things got out there hand.

Of course, he didn't let it get that far, disarming them as soon as they'd arrived but restraining himself from aiming their weapons back at them, as he didn't want to traumatize the children anymore than they already had been. The underdeveloped mind was a fragile one, and Erik thought it important to look out for the kids.

Turned out he was focused on the wrong ones.

How could he have not felt it? The one, lone gun hidden in the bushes on the edge of the woods, why didn't he check the woods? He didn't even know it had fired until Peter cried out in pain, clutching at his calf as Kurt was bamfing them all back to the jet. He was immediately checked on once inside, but he insisted he was fine, instead concerned with getting the children buckled safely in their seats. There was a little blood, but Peter barely seemed to be affected, so they believed him.

That is, until his leg gave out. Right out from under him, he crumpled to the ground, seeming just as surprised as everyone else by the paralysis. Panic had slowly begun to take over his face as Kurt and Erik moved him to a chair, and by the time he was strapped in he was sweating bullets. They hadn't been in the air for longer than ten minutes before he'd started seizing.

Hank met them when they landed, though Erik would have preferred Kurt to bamf Peter straight to the medbay, the blue mutant was tasked with settling the rescued children.

It was quite the monstrous task, wrestling Peter onto the stretcher as he squirmed and shook, seemingly completely out of control of his body. Raven helped to push it, as did Erik despite their constant complaint of him going too fast. In his opinion, they weren't moving nearly fast enough.

He was cut off by Charles, nearly tripping over his chair as he came zooming around the corner. Raven and Hank raced on, and Erik scoffed as his attempts to follow were constantly thwarted by Charles's maneuvering. It was when the doors to the medbay closed when he got desperate, a devastated gasp leaping from his tongue and he was suddenly acutely aware of the layer of sweat on his palms.

"Get out of my way!" Erik shouted, taking another step to the side, his path immediately being blocked. "Charles-"

"Erik, I'm sorry, if you're in there-"

"Charles, he's my son!"

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't be in there with them. You want Hank to be able without you breathing down his neck-"

"CHARLES, PLEASE!" His plead clawed its way past his throat, leaving the extent of his vulnerability on full display. A rational Erik Lehnsherr would never dare let anyone perceive him to be weak or emotional, but right now that was the furthest thing from his mind.

Something changed in Charles’s eyes before he moved to the side, finally allowing Erik to pass through. Not that it mattered, if he’d said no, Erik would have simply moved him himself.

They had the doors open in a matter of seconds, and Erik was quickly at Peter’s side, though Charles seemed hesitant to allow him in the room. Raven pressed another sticky pad to Peter’s face, lighting up yet another machine before moving on to the next. Hank on the other hand was rushing around doing God knows what, Erik wished he was paying more attention to his son.

“Hank, what are you doing? Put him out!” Raven scolded the doctor, clearly struggling to clip the restraints as Peter thrashed on the table.

“I can’t! His blood pressure is too high!” Hank shook his head, scoffing as he pulled the thermometer away from Peter’s forehead. “His temperature is 104, Erik what the hell happened out there?”

“I...I don’t know. He was shot-” Erik breathed, suddenly faced with the difficulty to form a coherent sentence.

“And you didn’t stop the bullet?!” Hank whipped around, preparing a syringe as Raven finally tightened the buckle on Peter’s left arm.

“I didn’t…” Erik whispered, flashes of the scene playing out in front of him like a projector screen. He could never stop anything, not when it mattered most. He only ever brought pain to the people he cared about.

“You can.” He couldn’t.

“Everything is okay.” No, it wasn’t. It never was, and it never would be no matter what he did. Peace, war, pacifism, genocide, it all ended the same: with the people he loved caught in the crossfire.

“ERIK!” Hank snapped at him, adjusting the IV bag as it rapidly filled with Peter’s blood. “Did you see what hit him?”

“No, I-” Erik shook his head maniacally, his fingers finding themselves ripping away at his scalp. Didn’t Hank think that if he’d seen what hit him he would have stopped it?

“Did the bullet come out?” Hank asked, turning his attention to the makeshift tourniquet on Peter’s calf, blood dripping from the ends onto the floor.

“I...I don’t-”

“Come on, Erik! What the hell am I working with here?!” God, how Erik would have quite literally killed to know.

“Erik, think.” Charles’s hand on his arm brought him a bit of clarity, and he momentarily wondered if Charles was in his head, but his mind was too much of a mess to tell.

“I-I...no. No! No, it didn’t.”

“There’s no exit wound.” Raven said, Hank working at the knot of the gauze they’d wrapped around Peter’s leg, and though he was tied down, Hank’s fingers continued to slip as he writhed in agony.

“Hank, why is there so much blood?” Charles asked and Hank huffed, a shrug falling off of his shoulders.

“I-I don’t know. There aren’t any major arteries the bullet should have hit. He shouldn’t be bleeding this much unless he was on blood thinners, o-or maybe...bitten by a snake or-”

“Wait!” Raven silenced him, and they all turned to her, eager to hear her input. “Like...like poison?”

There was pause...then, “Shit.” Hank tore off the tourniquet, stuffing Peter’s oozing wound with gauze. “How long has this been in his system?”

Erik and Raven exchanged a glance, neither of them seemed able to latch onto a sense of time since Peter had been showing sign of decay.

“How long, Raven?!” Hank snapped, the panic in his voice doing absolutely nothing to quell Erik’s continuously rising anxiety.

“I don’t know, maybe twenty…?” Raven stammered, blinking down at Peter rolling his head around in pain as anguished moans tumbled from his mouth. Charles moved to sit behind him, shushing him quietly as he placed his fingers to the boys temples and shut his eyes, likely in an attempt to provide him some kind of comfort.

“Thirty.” Erik jumped in with confidence at the sight of his son’s face screwed up in pain. “It took about ten minutes for him to show symptoms.”

Charles flinched, a quiet gasp escaping his mouth as Peter’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his jaw clenching up with the rest of his muscles as he quaked severely on the table. “He’s seizing!”

Hank cursed, waving Raven over to take over where he was putting pressure on Peter’s leg before springing up and rushing back over to his desk. He yanked open drawer after drawer, slamming each closed before moving on to the next.

“Hank, what are you doing? Get it out!” Raven shouted and Hank growled, slamming his fists on the desk after yet again searching through another useless drawer.

“I can’t just take it out, it obviously wasn’t a normal bullet. It could have attached itself to multiple arteries and veins, he’s already lost too much blood, we can’t risk anymore he might go into shock.”

“Well, how long does he have left? If you don’t do something now, the poison will kill him before you can even worry about the bullet.” At her words, Peter’s body went limp, and Erik felt his heart stop. Charles placed his fingers on his head again, the room completely silent before a Peter gasped shakily, his heart rate monitor screaming as it raced to keep up with his pulse. The boy began to sob, his silver locks sticking wetly to his forehead as he banged it into the cold table beneath him, glassy eyes flying open to desperately search the room for help. They land on Erik, whose heart shatters when the lost look in them grabs hold of his soul, even more so when the words that follow leave Peter’s mouth in a tortured sob.

“Please, make it stop.”

It froze him for a second, their locked gaze slowing the entire world around him as Erik moved his feet, his calloused hand falling to Peter’s hair and his thumb brushing away the stray tear running down his cheek to his ear. The boy whimpered creakily at his touch, and Erik pressed his forehead to his son’s, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath before whispering so that only Peter could hear, “Everything is okay.”

He pulled away, eyes still shut as he relocated to that place Charles had helped him find so many years ago, the pull from his hand to bullet buried in Peter’s leg like that of a magnet. “Hank.” He started, tuning in on the feeling, emptying his lungs of air and stilling the shaking that had raked through his veins. “Get his bleeding under control.” Before any questions could be asked, Erik gripped onto the bullet, enveloping it in his magnetic field and ripped it out of Peter’s leg, with it a hoarse shriek straight from the boy’s core. Multiple “ERIK”s rose from his friends, Peter once again falling limp as an ocean of blood poured out onto the floor. It was all blur after that, lots of shouting and moving and the beeping of Peter’s heart rate monitor slowly growing slower until Erik found himself in a shroud of indigo smoke outside of the emergency room.

“Hey man!” A pair of golden eyes stared up at him, his head bobbling as the blue mutant jostled him about. “Wake up!” Kurt snapped in his face and Erik knocked away his wrist. He glanced around the hallway before stumbling over to the wall and leaning back onto it, sinking to the ground as his hands dug their way into his hair. He heard footsteps approach before catching a blur of blue in the corner of his eye as Kurt sat down next to him.

“...It’s my fault if he dies.” Erik whispered, and he could see Kurt turn to look at him before he pushed himself up on his knees, bowed his head, and pressed his hands together.

“Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…” He mumbled, just loud enough for Erik to hear and join in if he so wished, but not too loud as to be overbearing.

And for the first time in a long time, Erik was glad that someone had faith. Even if it wasn’t his own.

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floralkittygambler · 4 years

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Reposting for reasons

Response to Honest’s post here: Doing this to spread this awareness more as I know theres a bit of a rift in the critical community - plus I really fucking go on. Im PISSED and I do apologise however it NEEDS urgent addressing. I know people will hate me for it but Im used to hate and honestly? Hating rather than helping to solve the issue only furthers my fucking point here. So yeah this is so more people are aware (no offense to any of those involved in said rift either, but this is an important message. Thank you for understanding and if I can do anything to make all sides comfortable, then please message me and I’ll do my upmost.) “ More awareness of this is needed. Even if it’s your favourite, you can’t justify their shit but rally against another’s shit. Have people tell you you’re experiences arent real or invalid because, like Husk, people have - in real life - shipped you with someone you are far from comfortable with but you still treat them like a person. Because you have basic respect. And people force you to accept harassment, touching, stalking, advances for THEIR satisfaction. People use you for their fantasies. But you’re just a ‘tsundere’ for it. Or you have addiction issues but people think being with another addict will ‘save’ you because you’re apparently too incompetent to save yourself. Love isnt some magic fuckin cure so stop romanticising it as a fuckin saviour. It’s gross and fuckin creepy. Get stalked and have someone NEVER accept your no just because you show youre still decent enough to not treat them shitty or any different from anyone else. Try having someone way older or way younger (both in morally fucked up ways) advance on you and people encourage that. People you’re supposed to feel safe around.

People touch you when you pull away or show discomfort. Follow you home. Have pictures of you and wont accept you dont like them like that and it’s not ‘playing hard to get’ or ‘the thrill of the chase’. Fuck. OFF. In fact, Im not only disappointed in the fandom. Im disappointed in the entire team who some should know better from their OWN personal experiences - or at least the bare minimal of being a fucking adult. Im disappointed in especially females (sorry idk whether girl or woman is more appropriate here-) who statistically are more likely to have experienced something similar at some point in their lives think this is a cute gay moment. No. Angel is made out as a fucking predator - Im not saying he is, Im saying that his persistence is very fucking unwelcome like one. People like Husk dont need that fucking invasiveness. They/We need patience and someone on our level. Angel’s I know are the fuckin polar opposite - and some of them I know are very sexually harassing, including unwanted touching. It’s a shitty way to present gay people. Gays are fuckin people. Some are cunts and some arent. It’s a HUMAN thing. But considering the shit theyve been subjected to, presenting a gay as a victim only to also show them as a perpetrator is insulting! And for those Ive seen argue this about how people like AD wouldnt know how to express their love normally and whatnot? His pig. His best friend. He’s in his fucking 30s. There are literal real life criminals who get molested as kids and then go on to molest kids. Not all who grow up like that turn into nonces. Stop just fucking STOP justifying and romanticising this bullshit! I used to see the good in AD but now he makes me fucking sick. Especially with my verrrrrry fucking real traumas and connections. But fuck me, eh? Because this fictional guy matters so much more. Fuck real victims. And whilst we’re at it, fuck AD too when it suits your fetishes! Sarcasm aside, the fans and the team need to straighten up their abhorrent behaviour. Stolas. Fucking clearly having an affair, knowingly fucking up his daughter’s mental health and bribing a guy into sex who only wants the book and nothing more. He even has a fucking warning button over Stolas- Guys, how do you think any of this is cute? Even the team gross me out- I genuinely see potential and talent and it’s all gone to shit to satisfy horny teens, horny adults, and literally everyone who doesnt for the life of them understand being an adult is more than sex, drugs, violence and swears! I REALLY want to keep enjoying HB/HH but it’s getting harder and harder with such ignorant and bordering lazy creators (note: lazy as in wont do the fucking research or actually listen to real criticism and victims), such despicable fans (yeah, some HDers fuckin mocked that they triggered my ED, yet they had the fucking NERVE to support Angel’s potential ED AND laugh and blame me for me getting treated so badly for actually having the balls to call Angel and the teams hypocrisy. I got told to kill myself, that my problems arent real - oh but Angels apparently is! Which... They *are* but AD isnt real so technically only onlookers will suffer and not a drawing - and they just excused their toxic behaviours. These people are like “aww poor angie babey!” yet fuckin INSULT sex workers. All this red in Hazbin yet it feels everyone and they mama colour blind. The issues are getting worse and fans are outright becoming EVIL, VILE, Vindictive little bullies - from kids to adults. You SHOULD be ashamed of yourself if you conduct yourself in such a manner. And you need to readjust your attitudes and behaviours because the only fuckers getting hurt are actual fucking victims. Ever been violated and been gaslit so much you STILL fucking question it’s reality? So you drown that shit out yet somehow it’s effects still hit you? Fetishise it. Make it your uwu gae couple goals, you’re no better than people believing Harley and the Joker werent toxic af. If this shit happened to you, most of you would actually SEE where we’re all coming from. Also, stop making gay a fetish - you’re like those creepy old men in the alley heckling lesbians to make out so they can wank off. Gays, no ALL the LGBT+ are fucking people too. So dont give me that bullshit then start turning everything just gay or just straight to mentally wank off to. It’s degrading and dehumanising. And yes, fiction does effect reality. You crush on a fictional character? Mourn one? Support one? Hell, fuckin jerk off to one - that’s affecting reality. Remember how in fiction all blacks were treated as villians? Look how theyre treated IRL. JAWS, great classic unfortunately their was a spike in shark killings over a fucking movie - the shark in the movie wasnt even real for the most part because they dont behave like that! (Also the animatronic was so shit they genuinely had so many issues - I think they even took to naming each one! Some fun trivia there!). Tiger sharks are more nasty than great whites as tiger sharks will hunt and eat a human. Great whites prefer seals and dislike human flesh, they just mistake us for seals. Hell, theres the toothless basking shark - theyre often SWAM WITH by divers for being so friendly. Yet Jaws made people think all sharks are bloodlusting over humans. Slenderman was created for a fucking contest and that influenced a stabbing (NOT Victor’s fault). Watch a horror movie that isnt based on a real life event and tell me that at least ONE has left you peaking over your shoulder. Stella may be a bitch - we dont know for certain - but try getting cheated on. Y’know what? Try growing up in such a broken home like Octavia. Yeah reaaaaaal fucking cute now, huh? Funny how as well y’all petition for male victims to be taken seriously then laugh when fictional males experience this abuse, further adding to stigma. You can be hit on by the hottest mf on the planet but if you arent interested, that should be respected! Also we’ve all been inspired by at least one fictional character so yeah. Yknow, since I was little Ive been fighting for sex worker and homeless rights. But HH/HB treatment of both leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ll still fully support sex workers and the homeless, but that’s the fucking effect this show is having. Bearing in mind I wont ever share everything Ive been through - and I shouldnt fucking have to in order to be believed and validated (obvs proof is required in a legal case but that’s a whole other topic). Why should I share MY fucking pain especially when you fuckers have belittled and triggered it more so? We have our rights to our secrets but fuck ME you lot NEED to start acting appropriately and like decent fucking humans. ‘iTs HeLl’ yeah and welcome to Earth- the team and yourselves live HERE. You obide by THESE rules. And as someone with beliefs (and a LOT of ancient fucking texts and studies on this shit) their Hell isnt even a proper Hell! It’s closer to purgatory and even then it’s not. Regardless, it’s a poorly built world with the lore consistently changing per episode and tweet, with many plot holes, and is apparently easy to get into - even via accidentally watching porn according to a stream. If youre gonna parade youre a fucking expert and research into demonology and use real believed figures, at least get THAT right. In fact, Lucifer and Lilith (and Stolas tbf) are ESPECIALLY risky as theyre a lot more complex than most easy access texts will tell you. Likewise, Stolas’s first introduction and main focus is sex. He’s one of the FEW Goetia demons that dont have some involvement in relationship issues at ALL. He’s known for astrology, crystals and herbs but hes also known to aid MONEY troubles (it’s lesser known but it’s true! HB Stolas is an insult to the Prince). Turning Vodou into something evil is vile considering it’s powerful and liberated slaves. Pentagrams are nothing to do with Satan, they’re magic based sigils. Upside down cross is the symbol of a SAINT. It’s just some edgy attempt to trick people into believing they know more than they do. Also you should NEVER dabble and doodle sigils without knowing the meanings or respecting what they behold. Vox and Val, real fuckin cute way to make them look like a stupid fucking highschool drama instead of a fucking SEX TRAFFICKER (note: real pimps often target YOUNG folks too - aka minors - and groom them into sex work. Theres different types of pimp. Viv has shown barely any understanding of ‘the game’ and its a fucking insult to injury. Yes we KNOW what a fucking pimp and prozzie are! We dont need to see it. We need REAL AWARENESS.) and a fucking scheming bastard of a CEO salesman botman. And yet even THEN lets go a step further and make some yandere wuv on boyfweind aboose! Fuck off- Now I love a good anime but these tropes are getting fucking dangerous now. And unrealistic to real love and relationships. Kids nowadays know fuck all on a healthy relationship (neither did the fuckin 50s tbf) and Im seeing more romaticism and glorifying abusive situations. Like the show ‘You’. Ok, there’s a fuckin bloke online who slaughtered innocents and kidnapped yet people commented how cute he is on his IG and that they want to be kidnapped or killed by him next. Dont believe me? Look up Peter Manfredonia Connecticut and the comments people left him and then tell me why shit like whats being presented in HH/HB ISNT fucking concerning - because it is. For a series about redemption, it’s brilliant at the opposite (Quote from the creator herself, Viv has posted that it’s influencing her bad choices. Even as a joke, proof’s in the pudding). And the overall focus on sex in the way Viv does is so immature and really creepy, and this is from an ADULTS perspective. From one adult to another, Im concerned as to why any of them think this is a normal fixation. Then again they’ve hired quite a large amount of dodgy folks and even a child. Most of this shit gets avoided with a basic background check like most companies run. I DO like Hazbin. Or the premise. I love some of the cast and spite the others. In Helluva, I just like a tiny portion of the cast. And I critique it so harshly because Viv DOES need a wakeup slap, grounding to reality, people who arent going to big her up or kiss her arse for once and shape her up to be the best she can be. The actually reach and even surpass her potential. And to reach where you need to be, there’s a lot of harsh lessons youll face. That’s life. Shes chosen one of the most HEARTLESS industries and if she blocks out critique as ‘hate’ then she’s not strong enough and wont last. It’s just another unprepped YanDev again (except I dont believe Viv to be a nonce. Even with her dodgy past and dodgy present, I think her perspective on sex and relationship with sexuality is FAR from healthy BUT I dont believe she’s a pedophile. Ive bled my fair share and so far, I just think her sex perspective isnt healthy or mature for her age. But there’s little to nothing to suggest actual noncery - dont worry about accusations there. But YanDev is totally a dirty predator. Just clearing that up). Viv NEEDS some harshness and stability if she wants to do things right. And it’ll make her fucking cry but if she loves these projects as much as she claims to, then you’ll sacrifice blood, sweat and tears for that shit. Even the strongest points are mediocre at best when properly observed. She CAN do more, but she’ll have to face the harsh music. Viv wont see this, but if she does, I dont care if it upsets her. Why? Because this is that much of an issue - something she’s cultivated - that she needs to take action and not ignore it or be secretive about it. She needs to grow up and get tougher skin. Im not saying this to cause her pain. In fact, I wouldnt waste my fucking limited time if I DIDNT care. Trust me, I have duties to be met at a certain quota every single day. I say this shit only because I give a shit and care. If we met, she’d fucking hate me. But people like me are good for shaping people up to their potential. And we arent always this ‘tough love’ either. But when someone needs that level of harshness to help themselves, we’re not afraid to lose people or cause upset if the results end up being the best for them. If she ever saw this, she needs to re fucking evaluate her message, her story, and those she’s choosing to welcome into her circle. And all Im seeing is one rookie mistake after the other. Her paid patreon discord. Just like the messages Honest has posted on her side of being harassed (not in Vivs fyi), Ive experienced shit and bullying and even stay silent on their for being attacked for a group I fuckin paid to be in and yet I feel isolated. It’s all arsekissing and ‘thank you viv’ (thats an actual channel-) and it feels like a place of borderline worship and people trying to appease her 24/7 whilst kicking others with different opinions down. There’s so many I love but I aint kissin yer fuckin arse. Ask the closest friend I have - we’re fucking raw and wont just side with each other just because. We’ll call each other out if we think they’ve fucked up and then help each other build themselves up better. Because real fuckin people who actually care wont just want to be adored by you. They’ll care enough to point out your bullshit and help you, even if they upset you at the time. They’re real and upfront with you. People like us arent always the easiest to be close to either because we arent afraid of upsetting someone if it’s in their best interest and to help them. Likewise, we dont go out looking for fights either. Most times, we’re fuckin soft bastards- All this shit listed is the fuckin surface level of the real life hell of this fandom. And unsurprisingly, those who experience little to no toxicity have always been higher on that popularity ‘food chain’ - enough admirers and shared opinions that people wanna arse kiss regardless of their OWN feelings as well as neutral perspectives. I’d say you’re the lucky fans, but you’re not. You’re sheltered, and that isnt always the best way to be sadly. As for the fans. If Ive upset you. Well... I dont care. Because many of you have actively sought me out and weaponised my traumas against me. You never cared about my feelings then. Why should I care about yours? Im not doing this out of malice. Im fed up of humans behaving so pathetically yet claiming to be high and mighty. Most of you have been arseholes to those in and out of the community. The victims and non-victims alike. Hardly any of you considered once my real suffering. You put a drawing over a life. Many lives. You had the audacity to tell me Im full of shit. Some even using my real traumas to make a mockery of me and those Im around with a very similar history. Some with traumatic histories that differ from my own. You hardly ever considered the real lives of those effected. So no, Im not sorry for having the fucking balls to this day to still stand up for our rights and give us a voice that’s long been stolen. Im not sorry for being a fucking victim. Im not sorry for saying what desperately NEEDS voicing. And Im not sorry for not conforming to you or any fandom just to belong. We deserve better than to constantly be your fuckin arse monkeys (well... the trope is butt monkey but yknow-) and to be mistreated, misrepresented and harmed by you. You’re no different to the school bullies who give speeches on anti-bullying day. And I hope every single one of you starts looking into yourselves and improving. PS: Depending on the texts you read, Lucifer is said to have been redeemed or to be redeemed. Fun fact to haunt yalls with~ “

#warning long #long post #hazbin critical #very long rant #important #hear victims voices #just sick of how awful people can treat one another and believe this is acceptable #everyone is accountable #toxic fanbase #Toxic shippers #toxic ships #im literally too fucking old for this #forgive the anger but after years and years it gets so cumbersome and tiring #im happy to be the pariah if it means victims actually get heard and helped

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gaundyfied · 4 years

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(Also posted on fanfiction.net)

AU! Picking up a human stray never crossed her mind. Or an attempt at an au where Kagura is the Kaguya-hime, an infamous on-call assassin of the Kaientai and she meets a newly orphaned and younger Okita Sougo.

(Sougo and his sister never met the Shinsengumi.)

Disclaimer: I've never wanted to be the gorilla but I root for Okikagu and Gintsu.

Beware of the grammar and inconsistency teehee~

Staying in Kabuki-chou has never been part of her plans, but it was raining outside, the announcer mentioned that it will last for the whole night because of a typhoon and if it didn't bother Kagura that Abuto would give her an earful later, she'll probably shrug it off. It's not as if she didn't enjoy staying on her favorite district, once in a while. But she doesn't have any place to stay, with Kamui cutting her budget and she couldn't risk encountering any humans on that particular night.

In her defense, she's been ready in case she'll be stranded somewhere. It was a good thing she bought a packed lunch worth a ten people in a nearby convenience store before going to the mission. The rain started to get stronger, though, and she's not on the right form tonight.

She has her sensei's old, dusty hideout in the second floor of a cabaret bar but it was too far; her wound threatens to open again and the only place she could get into was a shrine. What a luck. Heaving slightly, she limped towards the stairs, umbrella tightly grasped in her right hand as she tried to grit her teeth from pain. Her wounds are healing slowly and it was unusual. They probably used some of that poisonous weapons they got from the Kaientai. Those bastards.

She observed the surroundings as she reached the site. It was a shady place; an abandoned shrine settling near Oedo Park. She was sure she has never seen this before but she has no choice. She could hear Gin-chan whining how scary the place was but he wasn't here and he will never be. Thunder clapped from the sky, signaling that it was not safe outside. If only she didn't accepted that fucking assignment.

He was testing her, that one-eyed bastard. It was not enough that her brother vouched for her, he had to make her suffer too, just so he could be assured that she broke her ties with her perm-haired of a teacher. He's being paranoid and he should be. As if Gin-chan can be defeated by the likes of him. Not that it matters because the idiot was nowhere to be found and the only contact she has in this place was the courtesan of death living in the Yoshiwara. The Shimuras are in hiding and it was best not to know where they are. They'll be in danger if she knows.

Her mission was simple; infiltrate the bakufu building in Edo and search for Kihetai's mole being held on the upper part of the building. She passed albeit almost dying after being sliced in the abdomen by one of the samurais she met before she and the mole escaped. They parted ways, the said mole saying that he could distract the rest of the group. They'll meet at the terminal the next day.

If it weren't for the baldy and Kamui, she would never join Takasugi. Her father is missing, just like the shiroyasha while Kamui is unstable; only Nobume could control him as of the moment and she's in a mission too. He's using her brother as a leverage to leash her. To bind her entire being to him.

She reached the shrine, didn't even bother to take off her boots. Anego would probably scold her for being impolite but no one's here. Gently, she reached for her goggles, letting it stay on her neck before taking off her cape. The shrine was dark so she searched for some matches or lighter to make light. She copped a feel to the paper walls, expecting to be lead to whatever place that could have a source of light.

The rain continued to pour as she went inside a room that could be a kitchen. Trying as she might, she rummaged the cabinets when she heard a rustling in her back. Thinking that it was one of the guards earlier, she turned around only to see a guy, most likely a boy not far from her age. In his hands was a lamp, which she was thankful for, and a gun shakingly pointed at her.

She observed him or an effort to observe him in this unlit space. His face full of bruises and his left eye swollen. He looks like a street rat. "Oi, kids should be inside their home by now, you know."

He didn't answered her and instead cocked the gun. "You. What are you doing here?"

She wanted to laugh. What happened to Edo after she left she didn't know. All she could see though was a child holding a gun with so much fear and it made her uncomfortable.

"Hey. I asked you a question."

"I asked you first but you didn't answer. Put that down, brat."

He wasn't convinced, as he should be. Sighing, she raised her hands to admit surrender before talking to him again. "Look, I got food here, you got a light. We've both got nothing to stay so maybe we could trade?"

The boy continued to observed her before lowering down his weapon. Apparently, his hunger had won his internal battle between his self. That made her relieved. At least she dodge a bullet on that one. Literally. This was going to be a long night, she thinks.

II.

His name was of no important, he said, but she convinced him to at least tell her his family name. She learned that it was Okita after he glared at her but she preferred to call him chibi, which intensified the glare. His eyes reminded her so much of the silver haired samurai she has always followed. They reek of something that has been kept at bay, waiting to be freed.

"What about you?" He ended the silence.

Taking off the plastic in her cold dinner, she replied absentmindedly. "What about me?"

"Your name, China-bitch."

"You--" she sighed, not really interested to retaliate.".. just call me whatever you want, chibi."

It didn't surprise her that he wanted to know too. He's a curious one, that brat. Telling him her name is kind of a taboo to her. She hears anego shouting that abominable name as she remembers what entailed that morning. She couldn't tell the illusions apart so she obliterated the thought of the very name. She hates it now.

Still, he kept on pestering her that night as she munch on her sukonbu, her stomach quite full. At first, she thought he'd be disgusted by her chosen snack after their cold meal but he sat still, unbothered by her eating. After he didn't get what he want, he sat with her on the porch. The rain continued its onslaught while they watch its performance.

"Kaguya. Like that princess from the moon."

She hears him scoff, her cape resting on his shoulder. "An idiot name for an idiot woman."

That was the first time she laughed for a while. Of course it's silly.

It was surreal for her. For all she knows, handling a child, albeit someone who's near her age but still a child nonetheless, was a very tiresome task. She saw Gin-chan as he tried to keep her from trouble while knowing that she was an enemy of his kind.

Kagura wasn't a saint, that she knew. A yato kills and slaughters and murders so nothing will remain in front of him.

Who knows what she could do with this child.

III.

"China! Can we not sleep on a Love Hotel? I swear bed bugs are biting me." His crimson eyes examined the buildings outside.

"Beggars can't be choosy, chibi. Just be thankful that we have somewhere to stay. Do you want to sleep on the shrine again, huh?"

That shut him up. The idiot gets too sensitive whenever she mentions her nickname for him. Well, he should be. After all of the trouble she went through just so he could join her on her mission, he should be thankful that he'll be treated with a luxurious lunch.

Right after that night when they met, she entrusted him with Tsukuyo. At least there, he'll be protected while she could be assured that he's being treated properly. He promised the hyakka that she'll visit regularly but the brat just glared at her and told her to get lost. After that, their only communication was letter sending as it was the safest option.

This month, she was given a low-ranked mission and on Earth, fortunately. She was to escort some important amanto and well, she was ahead of her schedule so she visited the chibi. He was growing on her, she swears.

"Oi, chibi," she started as they peacefully ate their food on a nearby maid cafe. "Is Tsukuyo-nee okay? No one's bothering her, right?"

Her eyes twitched as she watched him pour down a handful of tabasco on his omurice. "Yeah. She's letting me patrol the Yoshiwara and training me at the same time."

"That's great, I guess."

She smile sheepishly as silence began growing again. On the bright side, she noticed his growth spurt. He was getting taller and she couldn't help but be proud. When she left that night, his small form was engraved in her mind. He didn't sniffle but she knows he was sulking.

"Well, it took you a month to visit again. Why bother visiting?"

She almost choked at his question. He sure got a loose tongue. "Aren't you a cheeky one? What if I just want to bother you?"

"Bullshit. Cut the crap, will you? We both know I'm not your responsibility."

It kind of stings, hearing him say it. She knows he was his own being but she kept on tying bonds that didn't matter.

"Yeah. That's right. So you need to earn some money too so you could repay me. I've got a list, chibi."

He stared, like always. He kept on attacking and she kept on dodging. Why can't he go with her? Why does she visit him? Why can't she erase the connection. Why, indeed.

IV.

Sometimes, she dreams of Kabuki-chou with Gin-chan and Shinpachi. Her breakfast filled with rice and egg on top. Sadaharu, licking her face as they walk on the park without any worries. Their adventures in Yoshiwara as her guardian slash teacher visited his wife.

Next day, she'll be seeing the flames engulfing the Shimura dojo as Kamui slashed through the wooden barriers. Soyo, chained and without consciousness as Takasugi claimed his trophy. Her hands connecting with her brother as he smiled sadistically.

'Choose, sister.'

This evening, she dreamt of the chibi and his tobasco as they ate without any care in the world around them.

"You shouldn't leave yet, Kagura."

"I can't, Tsukky. You'll be in danger, you know that."

"He's been sleepless, you know."

Me too, she answers in her mind as she rearranged her cape and goggles. It was hard leaving him. Letting him sleep on his own in Tsukuyo's extra futon without her in his embrace. She saw him pouted the other night as she explained her sudden mission. She remembered touching his growing hair as she murmured her apologies.

"Tell him I'll come back for his sister's anniversary." She said without turning back. While she could still leave without thinking that he's on his own again.

"Tell that in my face, China."

She couldn't help the smile forming on her face. "Yeah, I will."

VI.

She lost control of her body as she lay down on the bloody ground. There was red everywhere and her vision flickers every now and then. This was a suicide mission, she knew it from the start. Nobume warned her, Abuto even managed to hit her in the head just so she could understand the danger. But what could she do?

It was Shinpachi and Anego that are in danger and she couldn't betray them again. Not when her beloved sister carries that precious dark haired infant in her bossom. Not when she could do something this time.

She laughs at herself. She wanted to cry. Of course, she couldn't do it on her own. Who was she? She's just a product of a promise that is empty, a lonely rabbit searching where she would belong. Under the sky, she longed for her moon, awaiting the verdict of the gods above.

Kaguya-hime.

"Kaguya-hime, it's time to go back."

She could recognise that lazy drawl. His bokuto, touya-ko, tightly gripped by his hands. "Gin-chan, I'm no princess."

"Oh but you are. You're Gin-chan's lovely Kagura-chan. I'm sorry, I left you on your own. Daddy just have to do some unfinished business, you see."

"Silly, Gin-chan. You're not my dad."

He laughed and it really made her day. "Of course I am. So let me and your idiot guy do your job for you."

In the end, his ruby eyes and his sandy hair was the last thing she saw.

#gintama #kagura gintama #okikagu #okita sougo #shinsengumi #yorozuya #fanfiction

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lesbeet · 4 years

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Hi! Just out of curiosity, which of those writing tips did you like, and which ones did you not agree with? I've seen a lot of them before and thought they were pretty common tips

i'm sure this is more than you were asking for but i'm just gonna go through em one by one and add a bit of commentary bc i have nothing better to do

1. every character’s first line should be an introduction to who they are as a person

generally a good rule to follow - personally, i try to make every element of my writing work on more than one level. dialogue for the most part should be used to reveal character (as opposed to exposition). like, obviously sometimes characters will reveal information aloud to each other which advances the plot, but well-written dialogue for a well-rounded character should reveal some combination of information that character intends to communicate as well as some information they don't (eg someone saying one thing and their body language or expression saying something else, which not only provides the information the reader needs, but also provides information about how that character wants to appear to others vs how they actually are/how they actually appear, etc)

2. even if you only wrote one sentence on a really bad day, that’s still one sentence more than you had yesterday

yes 100000%

3. exercise restraint when using swear words and extra punctuation in order for them to pack a punch when you do use them

i'm ehh about the swear words part bc they can be used to demonstrate character info, but definitely re: exclamation points and the like. idk if by "extra punctuation" they mean like "!!" which is something i personally never do - exclamation points should be used sparingly as is, but if what you're writing requires more than one right next to each other, your dialogue isn't strong enough.

4. if your characters have to kiss to show they’re in love, then they’re not in love

absolutely

5. make every scene interesting (or make every scene your favorite scene), otherwise your readers will be just as bored as you

easier said than done, but a good goal

6. if you’re stuck on a scene, delete the last line you wrote and go in a different direction, or leave in brackets as placeholders

this one is a good piece of advice, but ive seen people say (and have found out for myself) that usually the problem is further back than the most recent line you've written. rarely do you detect the problem so soon after you write it, so it helps to go even further back in the scene to find where things got muddled

7. don’t compare your first draft to published books that could be anywhere from 3rd to 103rd drafts

this is one of the most difficult items on the list and also one of the most important lol

8. i promise you the story you want to tell can fit into 100k words or less

sure, but Can doesn't necessarily mean Should. concision is the best practice, especially for less experienced writers (and i include myself in that), but i would caution that some stories work better with a little bloat or with a tasteful amount of subplot or scene that doesn't necessarily move the plot forward; however, you still need to be able to justify a scene's inclusion in the story. if it's not advancing the primary plot, it should be advancing a subplot and/or revealing more about character or even some slight worldbuilding.

i hate to mention jk rowling here because she's not that great of a writer, but think of all the people who talk about how much they love the scenes that don't show much more than the hogwarts daily grind. studying in the common room, meals, classes, just adding to the worldbuilding of hogwarts and student life and showing us what the main characters do when they're not saving the world or trying to solve a mystery. the hp books would be significantly shorter without those scenes and maybe readers wouldn't have even noticed if they'd never been added to begin with, but so many people (again, including me) love and appreciate those scenes. they make the world and the characters feel more real, more relatable, etc.

this one got long (lol irony) but basically, shooting for an arbitrary number of words should really only be a rough estimate (also unfortunately if you're trying to get picked up by a publisher then you're probably better off sticking to the status quo of your particular genre in terms of average word count). take out what isn't necessary, but maybe open up your definition of "necessary" - just a little (seriously, just a little)

9. sometimes the book isn’t working because it’s not ready to be written or you’re not ready to write it yet; let it marinate for a bit so the idea can develop as you become a better writer

idk how i feel about this. im good with writing a draft and then taking a break for a while before going back to it, but this just seems like a really effective excuse for not writing something.

maybe it's just how this tip is phrased idk i just feel like the idea of you or the story "not being ready yet" is kinda silly. if you've been hacking away for a while and getting nothing out of it but frustration, then yeah take a week or two off. but this makes it sound like "oh you haven't matured enough to tell this story yet. try again in a few years." imo it's always better to write a steaming pile of shit and make it better through editing than to put it off until you feel "ready" - bc, at least in my own experience, it's very easy to convince yourself that you're not ready yet instead of taking the plunge and just getting started

10. a story written in chronological order takes a lot more discipline and is usually easier to understand than a story written with flashbacks

this one is confusing to me bc i'm not sure if they're referring to the writing process or the story itself. i agree that writing it in chronological order takes more discipline than writing whatever scene tickles your fancy at a given moment, but just because you WRITE it in chronological order doesn't mean the final product has to be structured that way. likewise, chronological order is usually easier for a reader to follow, but you don't necessarily need to WRITE the story in order. do what works best for you.

personally ive found over time that i prefer to go in order unless i get stuck somewhere, in which case ill move on and go back to it later. so there are a lot of holes in my drafts, but i do try to write in order so the timeline of the story stays clear in my mind, and also so i can get up close and personal with the mechanics of the story, like how different events and scenes lead to what happens next, etc. and like the tip mentions, it's a fantastic disciplinary practice - otherwise you could write all the fun/easy scenes and be left with very little motivation to write the more complex or less favored scenes (which, contrary to that tip up there, are sometimes necessary even if they're not AS exciting as others)

as usual sorry my answer was so long djsksksksk

#answered #anonymous #wref #long post //

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mortuarybees · 5 years

Note

do u have any more good omens fic recs?

oh boy do i. some of them are fics that i have included in my fic rec tag so if you’ve been in that bear with me there will also be others. basically my preferred and only accepted genre of anything is “unbearably tender” and “aziraphale is extremely neurotic and crowley loves him anyway” it’s therapeutic

at some point im going to update the original reference post with like. all the amazing content ive come across since making it but until then:

one may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel by lumosity aka @femmeaziraphale aka my very best friend

they have started another fic intended to destroy my life in which hell wins the next round and divines a special torment for crowley pls read it and encourage them to finish it because they don’t believe me when i tell them it’s amazing and i am d e s p e r a t e for more.

“You know, you’re very familiar,” Aziraphale said, breath stinking of the sweet wine.

“Oh? I guess I look like many goat herders,” Crowley allowed. Aziraphale snorted, nudging Crowley’s shoulder clumsily.

“No! I mean that you just seem like someone I’ve known before,” Aziraphale said. Crowley felt that familiar ache in his chest. Suddenly he wished he was sober.

“I have a common face,” Crowley dodged.

“Say whatever you like, but I feel like we fit together quite nicely,” Aziraphale said, resting his head against the bark of the tree. Crowley took the opportunity to watch Aziraphale while he had his eyes closed. There were the same old blonde eyelashes against his cheeks, the one little drop of sunlight that formed a mole at the corner of his eye. Crowley wished to kiss his cheek only once. An apology for not losing. For not giving Aziraphale an eternity of listening to celestial harmonies.

wings and how to hide them by triedunture

Crowley's been annoyingly in love for six thousand years. What's another lifetime between friends? // if you follow me you’ve probably seen me post or quote certain excerpts a million times you may recognize it as His Body Is A Place And It’s Filled With Love.

He swallowed. So bloody awkward, staring up at Aziraphale like this, having his face held. Was he supposed to maintain eye contact? It seemed impossible. His gaze darted away.

"Keep your eyes fixed on me," Aziraphale admonished, giving his cheek a little pat. "Try to imagine, I don't know...slipping into my body the way you'd slip into a new coat." His smile was weak.

Crowley made a face. "Sounds grotesque."

"It isn't! Come now." His voice and eyes softened. "Please. Try."

Deep breath in. He would try. For Aziraphale's sake. "All right." He opened his eyes, held Aziraphale's plaintive stare, and pictured how it would feel. To be a part of Aziraphale. To be held inside him, to surround him at the same time.

To be loved.

hand in unlovable hand by courfeyrock (les mis solidarity)

“Goodnight, my dear,” he says, and Crowley swears, Aziraphale could call him my dear for six thousand more years and he still wouldn’t be able to get used to it. // it’s tender it’s bed sharing it’s “i love you in the human way” it’s quoting that unspeakable broadchurch scene its title is from no children by tmg; in short, it’s specifically designed to torment me.

Crowley’s head snaps around as if on a swivel. “Shall we… what?”

“Go to sleep? Normally I would love to stay up and have a drink or a chat but you see I really am exhausted and I--”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Idiot, Crowley thinks. I am such an idiot. "I'll uh, I'll sleep underneath the covers, and you can sleep on top." He waves his hand in a forcefully casual gesture that he hopes conveys just how normal it is for two platonic friends to be having this conversation.

everything just stops by witching

they are drunk and crowley wants to take a bath so he miracles one and they have. the most unbearable conversation ever fucking put to fiction literally returning to it to select one single quote was nearly impossible for me emotionally. god the tenderness the yearning!!!! “i like your silly aziraphale things”!!!!!!!!!! “i love you deep, angel”!!!!!! i hate it! just read it please i cant actually keep describing it or i’ll have to lay down for a little while.

“Are you –” the angel’s voice was hoarse, and he paused to clear his throat, “are you playing some sort of game right now?”[....]

“I am not,” Crowley whispered fervently, his face frighteningly close to Aziraphale’s. “Six thousand yearsss, angel. You’re a part of me, and I jussst – just wanted you to know, is all.”

Without warning, Aziraphale reached with both hands to pull Crowley in closer, forcing him to drop his own hand from the angel’s face. Aziraphale held him gently, pressing a single chaste kiss to the demon’s forehead, his lips lingering as his thumbs slid tenderly along his cheekbones, his fingers wrapped up in dark, dripping hair.

When Crowley responded not by recoiling, as Aziraphale had expected, but by melting against his skin and sighing contentedly, the angel placed another kiss on one cheek, then the other. He moved to kiss Crowley’s eyelids, his jawline, his chin, the corners of his mouth, all the time cradling Crowley’s head in his hands, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Crowley to rebuff his affection.

Crowley, ever one to defy expectations, continued to allow the angel to kiss his face to his heart’s content. It was only when he heard Crowley sniff and let out a pitiful whimper that he pulled back, looking at the demon with concern.

hard feelings/loveless by witching

Aziraphale said it was like the opposite of the feeling you’re having when you say things like “this feels spooky.” Crowley didn’t know what to make of that, but he expected it was something like the opposite of the feeling you get when the only person who truly knows you makes a cryptic remark suggesting that you can’t understand love. Crowley understood love all too well. // crowley. crowley can’t sense love bc he is so goddamn full of love that he can’t see past it he’s just so full of it that he can’t separate it from just how he always is c r o w l e y. also angelic/demonic mindmelding.

“What about - I mean, if that’s… love,” he struggled to get the word out, “then what’s this other feeling? The one that I’ve been calling love for all this time?”

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale said. “I can’t possibly imagine.” He didn't have to voice his surprise at the fact that Crowley had an emotion he called love. It wasn't that he had truly thought Crowley was incapable of such an emotion; he was deeply aware of the power and range of the demon's feelings. He simply hadn't thought that Crowley was in tune with his own mind enough to understand it in those terms.

“Can I show you?” Crowley blurted without thinking.

come as you are by punkfaery (explicit; trigger warning for body dysmorphia and disordered eating)

Aziraphale visits a modern art gallery, goes on a diet, and submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known. Not necessarily in that order. // this mugged me in an alleyway and ruined me emotionally for a whole night but like whatever. it starts with a mary oliver quote so idk what i expected

He dragged a kitchen chair out and sat in it, looking like he wanted to set fire to things with the power of his mind. He was probably angry enough to try it, too. Aziraphale moved a nearby copy of The Earth Compels out of the way, just in case. “It wasn’t really because of him,” he said. “It just made me realise, that’s all.”

“Realise what?”

Aziraphale swallowed. “That I’m not… quite as I should be. That you deserve better.” He lowered his head, feeling wretched. “That’s all. I’m sorry I didn’t say something from the start, but it seemed like a difficult sort of thing to bring up.”

Crowley’s face was indescribable.

“You thought I’d stop liking you because you’re not thin,” he said. His voice was utterly toneless. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“Well, naturally when you say it like that it sounds – ”

“Seriously? After six thousand years of, of whatever you want to call this? After we literally saved the fucking world together?”

salinity (and other measurements of brackish water) by drawlight

It's an odd thing, getting on after the End of the World. Crowley takes to sea-watching. // michael sheen has read and recommended it. god. it starts with a quote from eros the bittersweet. it took me a full half hour to read past the first paragraph or so it’s so Much.

"I want to see you cook." (Something made from his hands. Something purely Crowley. Nothing pulled from the ether. Nothing sourced and given, no. Something made from his hands.)

He looks at his hands. Holds them up, splays them against the shale backdrop of his ceiling. His hands are always the same, day to day. They are clean but stained. His long and dawdling fingers, his bit of knuckles, his veins and tendons beginning to show a little more. Yes, more, he doesn't know the age of his body but he keeps it somewhere here, at indeterminate forty. There is a hangnail on the ring finger, there are stains of belladonna on the sides, on the rough spots.

Belladonna, that green plant sick with chlorophyll, sick with poison. Crowley is a gardener and he grows belladonna in his bedroom. He knows poisons the way Aziraphale knows the Dewey Decimal System. Yes, he knows them intimately, bent over his long counter, pulling the leaves apart, peeling the stems. Crushing the seeds. He knows not to lick his fingers after, that the leaves and berries are toxic to a grown man, that maybe even Livia had used it once, dripped into Augustus' wine. Not, really, that poisons would matter . It’s one of those little perks of the demon gig, that whole immortality thing. What can get at him; what can cut it short? Only holy water and other blessed things. (Aziraphale is an angel, made out of blessed things. Crowley does not know how it might be to kiss him, mouth to wet mouth. If holy water might burn him, what can he expect from the freshwater mouth of an angel?)

birds of a feather by idiopathicsmile

Aziraphale nests. Crowley relearns some crucial facts about angelic courtship rituals. // look....im weak for home decorating as proxy or metaphor for domesticity and familiarity and this trope is literally this. i die

“Demons definitely don’t court,” says Crowley. “They fuck sometimes, but it’s—I don’t know if you’ve ever seen anything about the mating practices of insects but it’s more—like that. There’s no guarantee all parties will come out in one piece. Never seemed worth it, frankly. I like my pieces where they are.”

Aziraphale takes this all in with a series of slow, horrified nods.

“Wait,” says Crowley, “what do angels do?” He’s never pictured angels engaging with each other at all, outside of maybe mandatory team-building exercises.

“They nest,” says Aziraphale.

Crowley waits for this to all make sense. “What, instead of fucking?”

“No,” says Aziraphale primly. “Not instead. It’s—it’s part of the courtship ritual. You have to be able to build a decent nest if you want to be seen as a viable mate—”

“Like birds,” Crowley repeats, disbelieving.

“Not like birds, birds got it from us,” shrills Aziraphale.

men have gone to heaven for smaller things than that by mercuryhatter

Aziraphale finds an age slipping away from him. // aziraphale and crowley attend robbie ross’ funeral, and aziraphale mourns the loss of the old circle. also there’s some brief dunking on bosie. i adore this fic with my whole heart

“Listen.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s elbow and dragged him out of earshot of the funeral, releasing him under a nearby tree. “It’s not that I’m not glad you’re back. Remember that, because I’m about to be very short with you, but it’s not that.” He raised an eyebrow questioningly and Crowley nodded.

“That being said.” Aziraphale took a deep breath. His voice was shaking slightly and he tried to press it back to steadiness inside his throat. “You will not get near one more human under my charge this decade, are we clear?”

“Angel–” Crowley started, surprised, but Aziraphale cut him off. Fury was bubbling up inside of him, bright and brittle and with a deeply-buried thread of exhaustion that he couldn’t afford to think too long about.

“No.”

where you stay i will stay by mercuryhatter

at the hundred guineas club, men went under women’s names. aziraphale went by naomi and he paid! to keep ruth free! for crowley!!!! while crowley slept! it stopped my tender heart

“Let’s see. We all know Victoria, of course. Betsey, Henrietta, Georgiana, Chastity, that’s rich, and Temperance too, particular friends of each other, I imagine? A few Elizabeths, not particularly creative… oh.” Crowley nudged Aziraphale until he peeked up from his place hidden in Crowley’s sweater. “Aziraphale.”

“No, dear, I didn’t put that one down.” Crowley huffed in fond exasperation.

“No, honey, you put Naomi.”

“So I did.”

“And… I don’t see a Ruth.”

“No,” Aziraphale sighed. “No, I paid them an extra hundred pounds a year to hold that one for me.”

“For you or for…”

and this isn’t a fic but another essay that means the world to me, making an effort: queer (trans) masculinity in the ethereal & occult beings of good omens by elegantidler and irisbleufic

#henry speaks #good omens #fic rec #ineffable husbands

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sunmoonandeddie · 5 years

Text

little ballerina (4/16)

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 2,669

summary: After The Snap was reversed and the world went back to normal, Natasha Romanov had one request of her team: to infiltrate and destroy the Red Room.

chapter warnings: Swearing.

masterlist

a/n: Let me know what you think!

The next time you woke up, the pain in your body had subsided to a dull ache. Your eyes fluttered open slowly to the soft light of the hospital room. You moved your hands slightly, surprised to find that they weren't attached to the sides of the bed. Instead, two metal bracelet-type things were around your wrists. You felt in your gut that they had trackers on them and would prevent you from leaving... where ever you were.

Well. Looks like you were going to have to play along with whatever game the people here were playing.

You slowly swung your legs over the edge of the bed, holding onto the IV as you stood. The tile almost froze your feet as you completely stood up. The ache intensified as you took a few steps and you ignored the thought of why you were feeling that ache. Pushing past it, you walked towards the door, taking extremely slow steps.

"There's sleeping beauty," Tony said as he came into your line of vision, his arms crossed over his chest. He had a warm smile on his lips as he stopped a few feet from you. "You've been asleep for eighteen hours, you know."

Your eyes widened as you stood there. "I... What?" You don't think you'd ever slept for so long. Sometimes you only got two or three hours while you were training at the Red Room.

He waved you on, motioning for you to walk with him. "Seemed like you needed it. But I doubt that the hospital bed could've been that comfortable." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he pointed towards a set of doors. "We've got a room set up for you to move into tonight. That is..." Tony took a long look at you. "That is, if you're not going to run again." He seemed to want you to say something. To promise that you weren't going to make a break for it.

As much as you hated if, if you were going to beat them at their own game, you'd have to do just that. "I'm not going to run." After a pause, you added, "I promise."

The older man seemed satisfied as he led you to the doors he had motioned to before. You jumped a little in surprise as the doors opened automatically. "Welcome, Tony Stark," an automated woman's voice said and you looked around for the source of it. You knew about A.I.'s, of course, but nothing as advanced as this, apparently.

"That's just F.R.I.D.A.Y.," he said, waiting for you to follow him through the doors. "This is where the Avengers live when we're at the compound." Tony was pointing out the different areas: the kitchen, the living area, the private gym. You were barely paying attention, focusing on possible hiding areas and escape routes. "Everyone is most likely either in training or in their rooms. We can head on up and I can show you yours."

You vaguely nodded, still pulling along the IV. "Is there any chance there's a change of clothes upstairs?"

"Shit, I completely forgot. You only had the hospital gown you were in at the Red Room when you came here." Tony brings you into the elevator, hitting the up button. It moved seamlessly and you almost asked if the elevator even worked before the door opened up to the second floor. It was shaped like a circle, so that the elevator was in the center and the rooms surrounded it.

Tony walked over to a door back behind the elevator, opening it. "This is yours for however long you're here." He watched as you walked inside, taking it all in. "I'm going to go find you a change of clothes while you look around."

It was massive. You hummed as you fell onto the ginormous bed, practically sinking to the floor. It felt like a giant marshmallow. You don't think you'd ever had something so soft. The beds back in the Red Room were like rocks. They were meant for getting the minimum amount of sleep you needed to survive, not enjoyment. There was no such thing as comfort or sleeping in, for that matter.

You stood up, dragging the IV along with you as you opened up a door that led into a massive walk-in closet. "Why the hell do they need such big closets?" You asked yourself quietly.

"It comes in handy to have an array of clothes for missions. You never know when you'll need to be black-tie ready."

You turned to see Tony standing there, holding a folded up pile of clothes. "Really?"

He nodded, looking at the empty closet you were standing in. "We'll get you some stuff to fill this thing up in no time." The man then handed you the pile of clothes. "There's leggings in there from Natasha and I managed to steal a sweatshirt from the laundry room. There's undergarments from the go-bags that we keep for agents that need things for an extended stay." He moved his hands in a weird, kind of awkward circle, like he wasn't sure how to exit the conversation. "I'll let you get changed. Feel free to shower and all that. Just come out whenever you're ready. The others should be getting back soon and we can all eat together." Right before Tony leaves, he turns and points at you. "Do you have preference for any kind of take out? Chinese? Mexican? Thai?"

You simply shook your head and he nodded, mumbling to himself before shutting the door behind him. You tugged the IV needle out of your arm with a slight wince. Not like you really needed it anymore. You then padded over to the private bathroom that was attached to your room. Opening up the cabinet, you found it fully stocked with every toiletry you could ever need. "Okay, but how do I turn this thing on?" You asked yourself as you stood in front of the shower, having decided against taking a bath in the giant tub to your left.

"May I be of assistance?" The A.I. person thing asked.

"Uh... Yeah. How do I turn this thing on?" You looked up at the ceiling, once again looking for the source of the voice. You couldn't even see speakers.

"All you have to do is say you want it on and what temperature you want to start off with. You can change said temperature simply by saying 'hotter' or 'colder.'"

You frowned as the water came on, pouring like a waterfall from the ceiling. It was much different from the rickety old dorm showers at the Red Room. This, much like the bed, was built for enjoyment. "Thank you, uh..."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y."

"Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y."

You took a quick shower, making it out it under five minutes. It was the time limit at the Red Room. Once out, you wrapped yourself in the fluffiest towel you've ever seen and pulled on the clothing that you had left on your bed.

By the time you left your room and went back down the elevator, the communal living area was teeming with these so-called Avengers. You froze in your tracks. You were suddenly extremely aware of how many eyes were on you. Despite the fact that you were used to standing out at the Red Room, this was different. After all, they apparently knew you, but you had no idea who any of them were.

"Y/N, we ordered Chinese," Natasha said as she slowly walked over to you from where she had been sitting at the bar with Bruce. "I ordered you stir-fry vegetables, if that's okay?" You nodded slightly, your teeth worrying your lower lip. "Good. It should be here within thirty minutes. I hope you're hungry." She then began to introduce you to the different people around you. "This is Wanda, Thor, Vision, and Clint. Over there..." She pointed to the couch. "That's Steve, Sam, Bucky, Peter, Rhodey, and Pepper. And you already know Tony and Bruce."

You didn't even realize your hands were shaking until she reached down and grabbed one, squeezing softly. Your eyes raised to meet hers and she smiled faintly at you. "Why are you being nice to me?"

Her smile faltered, like she was surprised that you'd be so forward. "Because..." She paused. She looked as though she was steeling herself for the conversation at hand. "Because I was you."

"You were me?"

You pulled your hand out of her grasp and ignored the way she frowned as she continued, "I was trained in the Red Room. Then after I graduated, I became the Black Widow. Which, according to your file, you were about to become."

"Wait, how can there be another Black Widow?" Sam asked, taking a sip of his beer. "I thought that was your name, Natasha."

The redhead scowled, her eyes rolling as she turned to him. "The Black Widow is a female assassin chosen by the KGB. Being chosen means that you're the best of the best." She crossed her arms over her chest, her voice going monotone. She had desensitized herself to it, you realized. "There were two Black Widows before me. The role has been empty since I left. That is..."

"Until they chose me." Your voice came out cold as you glared at her. "You took me from Red Room without even bothering to ask what I want."

"Y/N...," Natasha whispered.

You shook your head, feeling your blood start to boil. "You're just pissed that I'm better than you were. I graduated at nineteen! Not only did I survive, but I'm the youngest to ever make it through the program and become the Black Widow."

"We rescued you," Tony snapped.

You turned on him, practically shouting, "I didn't ask to be rescued! I was where I wanted to be!"

"Really?" Wanda's voice drawled. "You wanted to be alone and dying in an Academy that almost no one knows exist?" She stood up from where she was sitting at the bar, Vision's hand dropping from where it had been holding hers. "They saw us coming and they escaped, but they didn't bother to bring you along. I can't blame them. You were just out of surgery and bringing along someone like that is a liability. They sterilized you like a bitch and then left you there to die." You could feel something pricking your mind and for some reason, you knew it was coming from Wanda. Her fists clenched by her side as you fought to keep her out of your mind. "Is that what you wanted to be? A dog to be left behind at the slightest inconvenience?"

For that... For that, you had no answer. You simply turned around, getting back in the elevator. Once you were back in your room, you slammed the door behind you so hard that you were sure the people in the floor below you could hear it. You wanted them to know exactly how much you didn't want to be here. Fuck playing their game.

Tears pricked your eyes as you paced the room, eventually crawling into the bed and dragging the covers over you. You didn't want to admit that Wanda was right. It didn't matter how good you were, that you were at the top of all your classes. After all, there's at least fifteen girls below the age of fifteen that could eventually grow to be just as good, if not better.

You were replaceable.

About thirty minutes or so later, you heard a soft knock on your door. "Y/N? It's Peter. I, uh... I, I have your food."

You wanted to ignore him, but the growling of your stomach stopped you. You got up from the marshmallow they called a bed and unlocked the door. You opened it just a crack, looking up to see the young man you had beat in the staircase standing there. In his hands, he held several different Chinese take out boxes.

"Is it okay that I brought mine to eat with you?"

You didn't respond, only opening the door wide enough for him to come in. You sat on the ground in front of the bed, pulling your knees up to your chest as he sat behind you on the bed. He quietly passed you two take out boxes and a pair of chopsticks. You two ate in relative silence, and for once, you were happy for the company. The others... They liked to talk. Peter seemed to be able to sense that you needed quiet right now.

"Have they decided what they're going to do with me yet?"

Peter looked up in surprise, though you weren't looking at him. "What?"

You sighed, leaning your head back against the bed as you set down the take out box. "Are they going to throw me in a prison or just be done with it and execute me?"

"Why would they do that?" He seemed genuinely confused as he waited for you to explain.

"Look..." You ran your fingers through your h/c hair, your foot tapping rapidly from anxiety. "I'm not going to join their team and I'm not going to tell them about the Red Room. I'm useless to them. To you. You're one of them, after all."

Peter got down from the bed, sitting across from you and leaning against the wall. "Is that what you think we rescued you for?" You shot him a withering look, which he made a point to ignore. "For one, Natasha went through the Red Room. She already has all the information we need. Two, we don't rescue people based on how useful they'd be to us."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at Peter. "It's sweet, how naive you are. But if Natasha had all the information you needed, then the Red Room would be destroyed and there'd be a lot more girls like me wandering these halls." You grabbed the Chinese take out box, pushing the rice around inside. "And I can assure you that those guys only keep people that are useful around."

"That's... very pessimistic."

You snorted, smiling down into your Chinese. "It's realistic."

"Hey." You looked up at Peter, who was digging back into his food. "You smiled."

You felt a twinge of annoyance. "I'm human, you know."

He nudged your foot with his. "By the way, you look good in my sweatshirt." Your mouth dropped open slightly as he stood up, smiling softly at you. "You're welcome to join us downstairs. If you feel up to it." Peter stopped by the door. "I promise that we're not going to throw you in prison. Or execute you."

He seems sincere, you thought to yourself as you set the Chinese box to the side once again. You were unsure. You didn't know these people, for one. Peter could be lying. Though, something told you he didn't have the ability to lie that well.

You sat in your room for almost two hours before finally deciding that you were going to go back downstairs. You were surprised to find everyone still downstairs when you got there, all curled up on the couch and watching a movie on the flat screen that seemed to have come out from the ceiling. They turned to look at you as the elevator dinged, letting you out. You were about to run back upstairs, unnerved by the way everyone stared at you, before Natasha patted the space in between her and Peter. "Come on, Y/N. You can sit by me."

You were a little shocked that she was willing to let you sit next to her, after what you had said before dinner. But you walked over anyway, curling into a little ball in between the two spider people. Glancing over at her, you tried to find something to say. "I'm..." You broke off, not sure if you could get it out. "I'm..."

"I know," Nat insisted as her hand reached over and squeezed yours.

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic

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jays-nook · 4 years

Text

get to know me tag

tagged by @sarawatiness tysm kayla 💖

✨ what do you prefer to be called name wise?

i dont really use my real name on here, so the nickname i use is jay ~

✨ when is your birthday?

july 26th!!!

✨ where do you live?

i live in jordan hehe

✨ three things you are doing right now?

listening to The Rose, editing a fanfic, and chatting with some friends.

✨ four fandoms that have piqued your interest right now?

uhhh there are so many!!! if i had to choose i would say 2gether, mdzs, whr r u, and hwarang

✨ how is the pandemic treating you?

pretty okay since everything is going back to normal and i can plan an outing with my friends and go wherever we want to.

it was tough during quarantine and when there were more restricitons being imposed on us but as everything began opening it was easier to deal with everything.

✨ song you can’t stop listening right now?

omggg literally any song by Conan Gray, i have been listening to hs songs on repeat for the past 2 days, they’re just so good!!!! but ive also been litening to a lot of Day6 recently!!!

✨ recommend a movie.

a whisker away

✨ how old are you?

i turn 16 this month lol

✨ school, university, occupation, other?

im still in school. going into my junior year of highschool this year.

✨ do you prefer hot or cold?

definetly cold!!! i never really like summer or really hot weather even though my birthday is during this season. i just find the heat to be really icky. i prefer to be cold over being hot!!!

✨ name one fact others may not know about you.

uhhh im not sure about that actually, like ive never watched a horror moie or show in my life because im a huge scardy cat, and i cry easily/get really emotional whenever something sad happens in a movie or series. although most of the time im okay with seeing a bunch of people cry, but if i see an animal get hurt or die i would be a bawling mess.

✨ are you shy?

i guess ?? like im awkward irl and online, but i usually find it easier to talk to complete strangers online than with people in my class who im not that close to.

✨ do you have any preferred pronouns?

she/her :)))

✨ any pet peeves?

i have a petpeeve which is that i cant tolerate who mistreat others or who send them hate online for absolutely no reason. this is more prominent on kpop twt since that fandom is vvvv toxic but ive seen a lot of people on here reciee hate as well for merely expressing their opinion or posting something.

another pet peeve whould be that i hate HATE people who mistreat animals. if i see you hurting an animal in front of me there is a definite possibility of me coming over and yelling at you or even punching you if i had the courage to do that lol

✨ what’s your favorite “dere” type?

i have no idea wht that means lol

i looked it up and i guess my favourite would be ‘deredere’ or ‘dandere’

✨ rate your life 1-10. 1 being really crappy and 10 being the best you could ever be.

hmmm, i guess i would rate it a 7 or 8, depending on the day. like there are some days where its really good, but there are also others where its not so good.

✨ what’s your main blog?

this is my main blog, its a mess of all my interests and fandoms lol

✨ is there anything you think people need to know about you before becoming friends with you?

im a bit awkward at first but i swear ill become more talkative once we get closer and im also a forgetful bean so might ask you a question twice hehe

i swear im nice and a wonderful listener ??? so if you ever need to rant to someone go ahead and DM me hehe ill try to help you as much as i can!!!

im going to tag @gigiesarocha and @lemonmilkk and anyone who wants to, to do this tag, you dont have to do it if you dont want to tho!!

#tag game #get to know me

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jungxk · 6 years

Text

just one (iii)

notes: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

warnings: eventual smut, swearing, bad habits (mentions of drinking, smoking etc)

genre: humour, drama, romance, college!au

wordcount: 7.3k

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

contrary to popular belief, jungkook does set some rules for himself. he doesn't have many, but the ones he does have he's strict about.

the first was no drunks in his jeep. he already broke that rule by allowing you and your friend seulgi in, so maybe that was out the window. impressive too, because he hasn't let anyone in his truck that hammered since jimin after taehyung's 21st. he threw up all over the dashboard and jungkook could swear he smelt vomit in there for months. even though he's sensitive to smell and hates repeating the same mistakes, jungkook decided you were worth the risk.

which brings him to his second rule: messing around with girls was just that. messing around. every time he needs reminding of that jungkook remembers the cactus plant taehyung gave him back during his very first semester. he killed that thing in record timing to the point where even taehyung wondered if there was a malevolent spirit in the place, because how else could you kill a cactus? it perfectly depicted jungkook's most telling trait: he can't look after things. look out for things, sure. he can step into a fight if his friend needed help or walk an old lady to her car with groceries. because those were a one off, in-the moment things that jungkook is good at navigating. but long term things? investing himself? he could barely stomach his own emotions for a weekend let alone someone else's, so it really was a recipe for disaster for everyone involved. get in, get out, get going onto the next. that way everybody wins.

and that neatly bleeds into his final rule: no bringing girls back to his place (if he can help it). jungkook preferred to keep his personal and personal personal life separate, so the less girls knew about him outside the bedroom the better. besides, it's not like he's totally unreasonable - if his place was closest and the situation called for it, then fair enough. but that was hardly ever the case.

which is why he's here: stumbling around the park in the middle of the day, totally and utterly lost. he was sure he had taken this shortcut once or twice before but apparently he was wrong, because he didn't even know this half of the park existed.

"the fuck is this place," jungkook mutters to himself, shifting as best as he can through a patch of long grass. he's pretty sure he's got a twig in his shirt somewhere and he doesn't even want to think about that squishy thing he just stepped in. his dick may have had a blast last night (and this morning) but the timbs on his feet had definitely seen better days.

jungkook had been wandering around for so long now he considers calling the girl who's place he'd just left in hopes of getting some directions...but then realised he didn't have her number. and even if he did, what would he say? i made you cum faster than you could spell out my name but now i need you to fish me out of the park like a lost dog? and then the next hurdle: what was her name again? jane? joy? jill? it quickly becomes irrelevant when jungkook gets through the end of weeds and broken branches to an open plain of grass again. it's a cloudy day so it wasn't particularly beautiful to look at, but he's just happy to be out of the mess of trees. looking out to the large pond of water just where the steepness of a hill stops, he double-takes when he sees that the person sitting atop it is...you.

you. bundled up in a hoodie, no makeup, tongue sticking out while you work to get the shading of that wilted tree just right. it's a public place, there are people out on the streets, cars whizzing past, but jungkook still feels like he's stumbled upon something private, intimate even - so beautiful do you look, so simple and candid. just you in your own little world. his fingers practically itch for a camera.

raising a hand before calling out your name, jungkook is unable to stop a smile blooming across his face when you snap your head up. he comes over to you, out from all the bushes like it was a totally normal place for someone to be. you can't help but stare at him like he's go an extra head when he finally reaches you, hair all mussed and eyes wonderfully bright. he smells vaguely of women's perfume and cigarette smoke but fuck if you don't gulp a little at how delectable he looks, leaf in his hair and all. "fancy seeing you here, noona."

"i could say the same," you lean to peer over his big shoulder, quirking a brow. "jungkook, why were you in the woods?"

he looks back with you to inspect the path he came from. "i was in the woods?"

"yeah," you laugh, his dopey expression making warmth flourish in your chest. he looks so loveable when he has no idea what's going on, eyes all big and mouth hanging open like an endearing dumbass. the urge to kiss him hits you out of nowhere. "i'm um, guessing you don't come to this park often?"

"i do! i've been here like," he counts his fingers. "twice? once sober." he looks down at his feet bashfully. "i'm actually a little lost."

"i hadn't guessed," you grin up at him, gesturing, "the entrance is way on the other side, over there. if you keep walking this way and then turn left at the-"

"i'll just wait until you're done," jungkook insists, plopping down on the grass next to you. his shirt wrinkles up around the belt to extenuate the flat of his stomach, settling into the ridges of what quite obviously are his covered abs. he looks so innocent from the neck up, round eyes blinking at you through his hair innocently like he isn't all hard edges and stiff lines from the shoulders down. a wolf in sheep's clothing and all that. "if you don't mind, that is? i don't know if you realised but i'm not exactly good with directions."

"you're right. if i let you wander off alone i'll probably see your face on the news tomorrow. just gimme a minute to pack all this-"

the gentle hand enveloping yours stills you. "please. take your time," jungkook hums, letting you enjoy the warmth of his touch before settling back with his palms in the grass again. "i don't mind relaxing here a little while anyway."

you open your book again upon his insisting. "i won't be too long, promise. this fucking pond is just being difficult."

"looks pretty perfect to me," he muses, pretending to inspect your work when really he's inspecting you.

it goes straight over your head though, too enthralled in getting the lines right, getting every stain of colour placed where you want it. you made the dreariest looking pond look like a glittering lake, alive with colour and life that didn't exist in the real world. he scans the other page; more trees, dogs playing with owners, cloudy skies and orchids, so many orchids even though this park had none. you clearly had a liking for them.

"it's definitely not perfect," you laugh, wetting your brush and softening more edges. "but that's what i love about painting. perfect doesn't exist. or even desired." he hums in agreement, no longer able to look at your art, only you. the way your lashes gently flutter, a dimple forming at the side of your mouth when you purse your lips. you were so easy on the eyes jungkook doesn't realise he's staring until you break the silence. "so are you gonna tell me why you're lost in the park or are you gonna make me guess, slick?"

he grins. "you have three strikes, noona. use them wisely."

"booty call?"

"damn," he huffs, head tilting back while listening to your victorious laugh. "listen, it wasn't exactly a booty call. that would imply i met jane before," he pauses. "i mean joy. wait, jennie?" he scratches his head. "what's your friend's name again, jisoo? definitely not her..."

"ask your dick, he'll probably remember. do you want me to give you two some privacy?"

"what's it to you?" jungkook laughs, nudging your shoulder with his while he gnaws his bottom lip, because it's not like he was about to admit that jane/joy/jennie was the third girl he slept with this week to get you out of his head. it was slutty even by jungkook's standards, and even then it still didn't stop him from secretly hoping you'd at least get a tiny bit jealous - and at best, curious to take their place.

"nothing, nothing," you throw him playful look. "i'm just another art hoe sat in the park, who am i to judge?"

he laughs again, nose scrunching up cutely. "how did you find this place anyway?" jungkook peers around the fence of trees, making the area feel so much more secluded, as if the rest of the world was off somewhere else. "i never knew there was such a big pond here."

"neither did i, until jimin."

"jimin?"

a nod. "he brought me here a few years ago, back when i was," you don't know how to finish, wetting your lips. "back when i was going through a tough time. family issues and all that. he said everyone needs a place to scream and cry and this was his, so he gave it to me too. it also just happens to be very pretty."

you can feel jungkook's inquisitive eyes on you, regarding how wistful you look remembering the days you and jimin would come here every week for some respite from life. it all seemed so long ago but like yesterday at the same time, as if walking around in a dream. it's jungkook that lulls you back to earth with his velvet soft voice. "you know it's weird, i know jimin hyung inside out, have done since we were kids. when he's mad, upset, whatever it was," he pauses thoughtfully. "but i don't think he's ever opened up to me about his feelings. anyone, really. he comes out here to scream but he can't like, talk to people?"

"jimin's like that," you agree. "everyone thinks because he has a million friends he's an open book, but it's the opposite. i've known him all this time and he's never even cried in front of me!"

"same," jungkook sighs. "weird. especially since he was, like, the biggest crybaby from ages four to sixteen."

"sixteen?" you laugh. "seriously?!"

"you have no idea! one time as a joke i asked if he was crying even though he wasn't, and he got so annoyed he started crying," jungkook snickers, eyes crinkling happily while he falls about in giggles with you. "but then he grew up, went to college. gets himself some pussy every time he's upset now, i guess."

"it sounds awful when you put it like that!" you pause. "maybe it is a little awful."

jungkook shrugs. "it's the easy way out, is what it is. doesn't make him a bad guy."

you prod him. "are we still talking about jimin?" you're met with another nudge before continuing. "what i mean is he's always thinking of others, that jiminie," you shake your head fondly at the thought of him, and jungkook sees your affection for him etched all across your face. "i keep telling him that processing other people's emotions for them isn't healthy, but he won't listen to me. have at it when you get the time."

"what was it?" jungkook asks. "the emotions he processed for you, i mean?" he raises a brow when you make a face at him. "or do i have to reach level fifty before unlocking your tragic backstory?"

"try level one hundred," you scoff, hauling yourself up to collect your things. "now, do you wanna go get some coffee or sit here and talk about our abandonment issues? choose carefully, you only get one."

"coffee," jungkook scrambles to pack your art supplies for you, making you laugh. "coffee, coffee, coffee!"

"jiminieee!" you call out across the house, kicking the door shut behind you after letting yourself in. you're glad you never threw out your old key because it came in handy during times like this, when jimin couldn't answer a text to save his life. he usually wasn't so m.i.a. but that didn't mean he didn't have his moments from time to time. you just assumed maybe he had a girl over, in which case you had no problem eating all the snacks in the kitchen and playing video games with taehyung until he was done. "why didn't you pick up, i called you like, twice today! anyway i was thinking, do you-"

you stop dead in kitchen, surprised to see hoseok there with jimin. it's dead quiet, heads snapped to you like they've only just stopped talking upon your arrival. you can't help but blink back at them, a little dazed, unsure what you just walked in on. but before you can think too much about it, hoseok is shooting you one of his sweet smiles. "hey, ____!"

"hey hobi, uh," your eyes skirt over to your best friend nervously. "didn't think i'd see you here..!"

"hyung just came over for a catch up," jimin says, which is about as much of an explanation as you're gonna get. "sorry i missed your calls, i left my phone upstairs. everything good?"

"yeah i just," you shuffle closer to jimin, a habit you had when you felt uneasy. even though there was nothing to be uneasy about, so to speak; you and hobi had been texting regularly for a couple weeks now, so it's not like you had a reason to be so skittish. so why do you get the nagging feeling there's something you're missing? you ignore it in favour of jimin's pleasant expression. "i was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie? that new horror film just came out and i'm free tonight, so..?"

he strokes your back apologetically, venturing dangerously low. boyfriend territory, so to speak. "sorry ____, but i have so much work to catch up on before this weekend! remember irene noona?"

you lean into him involuntarily. "yeah?"

"she's having another thing on saturday. i really wanna go but i gotta submit my project first," jimin explains, his gentle caress along your spine enough to lull you into submission alone. "but hobi can go with you! you're free tonight, aren't you hyung?"

"um," hoseok wets his lips, eyes darting between the pair of you. "yeah. yeah, i'd love to take you for a movie, ____. if you don't mind, that is."

"oh, yeah of course not! that sounds great," you pat jimin's chest briefly. "too bad you can't make it though. next time?"

"next time," he nods, and you do your best not to shiver when he squeezes your hip.

you're still in denial all the way to the movie theatre, right up until hoseok pays for the tickets and the popcorn and the good coke. there was no denying it after that: you were officially on a date with jung hoseok.

and it was the first of many. because hobi was funny and understanding and sweet, planning around your schedule and picking things you liked to do. even if you cancelled last minute or opted for a night in, he was so chill about it all. if there was a definition of prince charming in the dictionary, hobi's face would be plastered next to it, his name in glitter cursive. this is further supported by the way he brings you flowers before taking you to a fancy dinner he saved up for, all the way uptown.

evidently, it was only natural that your first kiss with him be perfect as well.

"oh, hoseok!" you coo, plucking the fresh lillies from his hands happily. his cheeks burn with excitement, because you only ever call him hoseok when you're sincerely touched. he follows you into the kitchen while you put the flowers in some water, like a puppy on a leash. jimin was right, he muses. this way, everybody wins. "they're so beautiful! you really shouldn't have, i can imagine these costing a fuck tonne..."

"don't worry about that," hoseok says, stepping closer to you when you finally face him. he looks awfully dashing in his dress shirt and pants, hair swept back to reveal even more of his bright, handsome face. he reaches for your hand gently. "i'm just glad you like them."

"i love them," you smile, his heart fluttering with how pretty you look in that moment, all sweet features and a sweeter dress. "no one's ever given me flowers before, you know. maybe i'll sketch them tonight, so i remember forever."

"no need," he chuckles, taking another step. you're close now, awfully close. the richness of his brown eyes throws you, studying your face with the most gentle smile in the world. before he looks down at your lips. "i'll buy you flowers for as long as you'll let me."

hoseok reaches up to cup the side of your face, feather light and soft. he waits for you to pull away, and when you don't he leans in to meet you half way in a short, honey-sweet kiss. his lips are just as soft as they look, just as plump as you'd imagined. you sigh into his mouth when he kisses you again, a bit longer this time, falling into his chest for more before hoseok pulls back with a glittering grin.

"come on," he says brightly, tugging your hands. "i busted my ass for that reservation, so no tardiness!"

you hum with a nod, clutching his hand and letting him lead you out.

but of course, you got there on time. dinner was perfect, the food was delicious, the weather was lovely, absolutely everything was just right. and yet when hoseok kisses you goodnight at the door, you wonder why your chest feels like it's got a chunk missing. like scraping the bottom of a tub of ice cream for a piece of cookie dough and not finding any. you pad into your room, waiting expectantly for hoseok's got home safe text that he never forgets to send. you're so caught up in your head trying to figure out if the chicken you had at dinner is what's making you feel off, before your phone pings! right on time. but then you do a double take at the id.

[unknown number 9:28pm] hey it's slick :) just wanted to ask why you let me walk around with a leaf in my hair the other day. awfully mean of you noona

[unknown number 9:28pm] this is jungkook btw in case u havent guessed

[unknown number 9:29pm] unless im not the only guy u call slick...?

the laughter that bubbles up in your chest is so potent and refreshing you find yourself falling back into your bed in a fit of giggles, eagerly unlocking your phone to save jungkook's number. you had totally forgotten to anticipate his text in the weeks hobi kept you busy.

[you 9:32pm] thanks for clarifying, ur actually slick #4. jimins #5 if that helps

[you 9:33pm] you didn't pay for my coffee so it was revenge

[you 9:33pm] plus you Might have looked a bit cute

[jungkook 9:35pm] are u kidding

[jungkook 9:35pm] i got u those overpriced chocolate things which was like 4 coffees

[jungkook 9:36pm] ahhhhh there it is :) i knew u had a thing for me

[you 9:38pm] they're called croissants jungkook

[jungkook 9:38pm] idc lets go back to how u think im cute

[you 9:40pm] i thought you didnt like me calling u cute

[jungkook 9:41pm] ill take what i can get in this fuckin drought

[jungkook 9:42pm] my plan is to run with the cute thing until i evolve. charmander was cute in the beginning too but then he becomes charizard n everyones like woahhh

[you 9:43pm] are you literally 7 yrs old. am i talkin to ash ketchum rn

[jungkook 9:43pm] pls dont be silly noona ash was 10

[you 9:45pm] so older than u then

[jungkook 9:49pm] can we stop talking abt pokemon now im trying to flirt

[you 9:50pm] dont say that or ur ash hyung will be sad

[jungkook 9:51] i actlly hate u

you're so busy laughing you almost miss hobi's incoming message. you should have replied then and there, but the influx of jungkook’s messages keep you occupied.

[hoseok 9:43pm] got home safe xx

[hoseok 9:43pm] had a lovely night with you hun xx wanna meet before class tomorrow?xx

"you're having boy trouble, aren't you?" is the first thing taehyung says when you drag him out of his room. and he's not wrong. jimin's out so it's safe enough to take the conversation to the kitchen, tae's smirk over his coffee mug only making you flinch harder. "well?"

"i mean," you tap the table nervously. "sort of? it's just not something i wanna talk to the girls about. or jimin either for that matter. unfortunately you're the only neutral party i have to indulge in."

"charmed. so what did hobi do?" he asks simply. "eat the nuggets off your plate? propose a threesome before the third date? wear denim on denim?"

"...one of those is not like the other, tae."

"you're right. if he took your nuggets the fucker wouldn't be even be alive right now."

"but to answer your question, no he didn't do anything. in fact, i'd go as far as saying he's been so perfect it's starting to make me think he's a hologram or something. some kind of sexy robot designed to charm women but he broke out of the lab and now we're dating."

he gives a snort of derision. "come on, he's a guy. there's gotta be something gross about him."

"nope! he dresses well, smells good, never late, texts me back," you hold your head in your hands dramatically. "he even finishes his political arts essays extra fast just so i have an outline for when it comes to writing mine. the guy is a saint."

"so why did you drag me out of my room during wank hours?"

"jesus, taehyung! it's one in the afternoon!"

"well?"

"i just!" you throw your hands up comically. "i think there's something wrong me! he buys me flowers, texts me good morning...so why don't i have butterflies? why aren't i rushing to reply to him? just the other night i left him on read for ju-for some other guy. i mean, half of me is like if i don't feel something then that's valid but the other half of me is wondering why? why do i feel like i ordered the wrong drink at a coffee shop and i only realised after the first taste? like, it's not a bad drink at all, it's actually quite nice. but it's not what i wanted. you know?"

he raises a dismissive hand to your rambling. "answer me this. do you wanna fuck him?"

you pause, mulling it over. "yeah, i guess."

"you guess?"

"well i wouldn't say no," you admit, huffing as you shift your mug between your hands. "because he's crazy hot and a great kisser, if that's any indication. i'm sure he wouldn't let me down. but i have cause to say the same about you and probably half of jimin's other friends too, so."

taehyung rolls his eyes. "well, ignoring the fact that that was possibly the most tepid compliment you could have given me," he leans across the counter so you can't miss the way his eyes bore into you. "if you're not desperate to fuck him, and i mean getting so excited you shiver a little every time he comes within a meter of you, then that's that. game over, case closed. you should never have to guess whether you wanna fuck a guy or not."

"but he's doing everything right," you wail childishly. "and it's not like i don't like him taehyung, i do."

he shrugs to that. "right. you just don't like him enough to continue dating him on your merry way without coming to me for advice? come on, listen to yourself! the guy's half way to asking you to be his girlfriend, if there's no spark now then what are you waiting for?"

"but maybe there will be! eventually! i definitely like him more and more the longer we've been dating," you counter. "isn’t that worth waiting for?" you groan when tae does nothing but shoot a pointed look in reply. "fine, i'm making excuses. but in my defence if you had to break something like this to jimin you'd be stressed too."

"jimin?" taehyung repeats, brows furrowing. "what does he have to do with this?"

"i mean he pretty much set us up. he's super invested too, he remembers when i need to text hobi back more often than i do." taehyung chews on the information. it doesn't sit well in his stomach and it shows, his lips pursing and his legs jiggling restlessly. "at least it put an end to jisoo and seulgi's crazy idea that jimin liked me. weird though, i didn't think guys would give so much of a shit about their friends relationships."

"yeah, weird," taehyung grumbles, effectively switching the conversation to what he knows will distract you before you can clock onto his pinched expression. "speaking of friends, jungkook says you two have been talking a lot recently. that true?"

"oh, yeah. yeah, i guess," you suddenly find your empty mug very interesting. "we text a bit. went out for coffee a while ago."

taehyung double takes. "coffee?" a pause. "like a-"

you silence him. "don't say date. don't you dare say date. i swear to god if you say date i'll make you a new coffee and pour it in your lap taehyung, i'll do it."

he smirks. "did he pay?"

"no, i got the drinks. but he got the pastries."

"but did he order any pastries?"

silence.

"it was a date."

"no it wasn't!"

"how are you feeling about friday?" jimin asks quietly, lips pressed into your hair so the words come out muffled.

you're half asleep against him, it's one of the few times you're snuggled up into him and not the other way around. you're not sure what trashy romcom is playing anymore, all you know is that jimin's chest is so comfortable under your head, his body so warm with yours cradled into it. you yawn before answering, burying your nose into his soft hoodie. "lunch with hobi? we have lunch together all the time, why would-?"

"no," he says softly, pulling back slightly to look at you. "the other thing."

you meet his eyes, and then it hits you. "oh." a heavy beat. "i-i totally forgot. i can't believe i forgot..."

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have said anything," he apologises, tucking you further into his arm. you hope your heating cheeks don't give you away with how close you are against him, breathing him in like you would a lover. you're so entranced by his flushed lips and tender expression that you barely listen to what he's saying. "it's good that you're with hobi that day, though. keep you distracted a little, you know?"

"yeah," you hum, but it doesn't keep the sinking feeling out of your chest.

"i only brought it up because i wanted to cook for you that night," he smiles. "i'll make that pasta you like, we'll play some video games. it'll be fun."

you gaze up at jimin in that moment and you hear the words he won't say loud and clear: i don't want you to be alone. your affection for him surges and you think he can see it in your face, because he smiles back at you with a tenderness you don't see often. you shiver a little when he brushes some hair from your face, his touch lingering ever so slightly to the point where you think he just might kiss you. he doesn't, of course. he never has, and never will.

"that sounds perfect," you say finally, dropping your head back into his shoulder to hide your flushed face if anything. you wrap a tight arm around his middle, a silent thank you, and he resumes his cheek tucked against your head.

the next day it rained.

the kind of rain that comes out of nowhere. one minute jungkook was flying down the road with all the windows down and namjoon hyung's playlist blasting and then the next it's pouring, the sound of raindrops hitting his truck so loud he thinks maybe it will leave a dent on the bonnet. jungkook's just glad he got his sunset pictures done and dusted before the downpour, because fuck if his photography degree didn't rest in the hands of the weather forecast at this point. he has enough time on his hands to consider squeezing in a smoke with namjoon before maybe heading out for the night or even seeing what yoongi hyung is up to, but all that goes flying out the window when jungkook sees you. again.

you. standing in the street in the pouring rain outside the post office like a fucking crazy person. you, with no coat, no umbrella, not even a jumper. it's like you've seen a ghost and you're too scared to walk through the door, or maybe you are the ghost. swerving into the curb in a haphazard park, jungkook doesn't know. all he knows is that if the rain doesn't sweep you away any minute now then the fucking pneumonia would.

"hey! noona, what are you doing?!" he screeches through the open window. you just stand there, dumbstruck. even when you finally hear jungkook's yelling, it’s like his voice slips through one ear and out the other. "hey! are you fucking insane? it's pouring!" jungkook shouts above the downfall. you still can't move. "____, get in the car!"

you probably wouldn't have if you hadn't looked up to see jungkook's face, twisted in disbelief and what also appears to be worry. cars honk at him from how badly he's parked, butt of the truck sticking out in the road. he stopped for you...

he stopped for you. so you get in the car.

"are you crazy?!" he asks again as he frantically rejoins the traffic while you fiddle with your seat belt, so sopping wet and freezing that you slip and slide with the buckle. jungkook helps you just like last time, reaching over to click you in before glancing back at your face. you're absolutely drenched, hands wrinkled and hair dripping, clothes soaked through to the bone. and even though you're shivering in the passenger seat with barely any semblance of sanity, your grip on the little blue envelope in your fist doesn't falter. "why the fuck were you just standing there?"

"i," you start, but the words freeze up. "i, um..."

jungkook eyes you like the mad person you most definitely are, and you don't blame him. you look mad. you feel mad. out of sorts, like your spirit is floating around your empty body and the only reason you can't hear her yelling is because the sound of the rain is drowning it out. your chest heaves, air not coming into your lungs fast enough, pulse pounding in your ears. "put on my hoodie," he snaps, gesturing to the seat behind yours. "do you see it, the red one?"

you twist in your seat after a shaky nod, clambering around before grabbing it and tugging it over your head as you're told. it's so big and soft, so warm and so...jungkook. your eyes flutter shut when you bury your nose into the fabric, breathing in the smell of him. fresh laundry, soap, the faintest cologne. and something unmissably sweet. you don't know why but your eyes suddenly brim with tears.

"hey," jungkook says nervously, not knowing how to handle this. "you okay?" another beat. "you gonna tell me why you were out in this goddamn monsoon, or?"

you finally turn your head to look at him, really look at him. silver bracelets glimmer from jungkook's wrists while he drives, his hair matted and sticking up at the back a little. his muscles are hard, you can see the bulge of his biceps. his jaw is sharp, his mouth pursed into a line unhappily, but his eyes are soft. his voice is soft. his hoodie is soft. "i was," you look down at the envelope. it's crumpled and sodden but you haven't let go of it. "i was going to post this. i mean, i wasn't. well, i might have, but..."

jungkook steals another glance because he still has no idea what the fuck is going on. "you couldn't have taken your indecisive ass inside the post office to do all that?" you go quiet again and jungkook's chest feels tighten for some reason. "what kind of letter is so important you'd get drenched for it?"

"it's not a letter," you mumble. then, louder, "it's not a letter, it's. it's a card."

"a card?" he frowns. "like a birthday card?"

you nod. it's hits you then, like a punch in the gut: the shame, the utter embarrassment of it all. of jungkook fishing you out of the rain like this so you don't catch a death wish of a cold, bundling you up in his car like a little kid who got lost. but that's what you feel like, a kid wandering around. a basket case with a birthday card. so it was no wonder your thoughts start to spew from your mouth like projectile vomit but in word form. "remember, um," you gulp, trying to reign in your racing mind. "remember i told you i had, uh, family issues?"

jungkook peers at you, eyeing the road nervously between pauses. "yeah..."

"well, um," you scratch your head, hair flat to your scalp from all the rain. you ruffle it, irritated. "long story short, it's that. like i know i showed you my sketchbook and let you watch me paint in the park and rush to draw flowers before they die but all that stuff is...it's the reason why i'm here. i love it, i love art and it's who i am but if i didn't i probably wouldn't have been caught out in the rain and you probably wouldn't have come found me and-"

he shakes his head. "woah, woah. you're not back tracking far enough, what are you talki-"

"my family," you gasp. "they're not like me. they're not like me at all, jungkook, but i tried to be like them. my mum's a brain surgeon and my dad's a chemical engineer and my sister's a physics professor in some fancy university and i was gonna be just like them. i was gonna throw out all my paint and charcoal and be medical biologist, but i couldn't do it. i tried so hard for so long, but. but i couldn't do it," you're faintly aware of the tears sliding down your cheeks. "why do you think i'm friends with jimin? or rather, that he's friends with me of all people? we met through mutuals and by the time i dropped out of my science degree he was the only one who would still talk to me. i would have been living out of my car for eight months if it wasn't for him."

"what?" he eyes you frantically. "what do you...?"

"my family renounced me. cut me out of their name, threw away all my stuff, kicked me out the house, removed me from their will. everything you can think of, they did it. they're smart after all." you start to laugh at how ridiculous it all was, even though you're crying, even though you're angry, even though you're conflicted. "we haven't spoken in years."

"wait, just wait a second," jungkook tries to keep up. "they disowned you because you decided to be who you are and not what they wanted? what kind of pathetic idiots would throw away their own kid over something like that?"

"because their reputation is everything," you sigh. "you don't get it, jungkook. the kind of name they made for themselves is some top dog shit. they publish papers and take part in groundbreaking research like it’s a hobby. for them to say that one their esteemed daughters dropped out of university because she wanted to be a painter or some shit is a disgrace to their reputation."

his mouth visibly upturns, like he's tasted something bad. "they're the ones who are the disgrace. god, what fucking assholes!"

"but maybe it's better to be an asshole than a dumb fuck," you wave the drenched envelope mockingly. "look at me! i stood outside in the rain because i couldn't decide if i wanted to post my dad a birthday card or not! they haven't spoken to me in years and i still send them a fucking card every birthday," you cover your forehead, embarrassed just from saying it out loud. "they probably set it on fire the second it gets passed the mailbox! they probably throw it straight in the trash and here i am, still sending it."

"but you didn't," he points out. "you still have it there in your hand, don't you? and it didn't exactly look like you were rushing to get inside when i saw you either."

"well yeah, because i think it finally hit me how stupid i am," you look down at your knees. "i just wanted them to know that i don't forget the important stuff. i'll never forget. if i don't post it today then my dad won't receive it on time for friday, and. god, why am i still calling him my dad when technically he's legally not even my relative anymo-" you wet your lips, shaking your head. "it's been years. it's been years. and they've never replied. the only one that's still holding onto this whole thing and getting hurt by it is me, so maybe...maybe it's time i end it. i've already moved on in every other way and this is the last thing that's left, the last tie i have with them, so...yeah."

you wait for it; the spiel of expletives that usually follows when you divulge your past. how your former family don't deserve you, how you should turn your back on them just as they did to you, how wrong they were and how much better off you are in the long run. all things that you whole-heartedly agreed with, if you didn't you wouldn't be here. but moving on isn't a straight line. forgetting isn't like waiting for a pin to drop.

"i can't believe you're related to such disgusting pieces of shit," jungkook starts, knuckles whitening against the steering wheel. it's the first time you regard him now that you've finished rambling, and you can finally see how livid he looks, his face pinched together angrily. "have they even seen your art, though? just because you aren't talented in the same thing they are you get thrown out? all those fucking degrees and scientific bullshit but they can't even see their children as people, what useless fucks," and then, out of nowhere, "do you want me to turn around?"

your head snaps up. "what?"

"the u turn is coming up," jungkook clarifies, looking over his shoulder to check his blind spot. you stare at him, wait for any indication that he's joking or just fucking with you. he takes your wary expression as hesitation. "i can go in and post it and you can just wait in the car, if you want."

"wh-what..?" you try again, unable to do anything but gawk at him.

jungkook regards your disbelief, sighing curtly. "look, my opinion about those pricks is just that - my opinion. at the end of the day it's your life not mine so i can't tell you to do shit. no one can. so if you want me to turn the car around to go and post that card for you, i will. i can't help you with the other stuff, but i can help you with that."

your eyes well up again, hands shaking like leaves. you hadn't even told jimin about the cards in order to avoid the scorn, and yet here was jungkook. a boy you had only met a handful of times ready to support a decision that even he didn't agree with. the feeling was as relieving as it was...foreign.

he wets his bottom lip while you blink away your tears hastily. "so?"

"no," you say finally. "no, it's okay."

he looks at you seriously. "are you sure?"

you nod. "yeah, i'm sure. could you just, um, take me to jimin's? i think seeing him will help me feel better."

jungkook nods, changing lanes for the new route. "does he know? about the cards, i mean?"

you shake your head with a tiny laugh. "no way, he'd flip a shit if i told him! you know how protective he is, he hates my family more than i do."

"well i'm not exactly far off at this point either," jungkook mutters, and you can't help but smile. it makes him smile too, the gripping feeling in his chest washing away at the sight of your shining teeth and dimpled cheeks. he likes the way you look in his big jumper, hair messy and eyes bright. out of all the sunset pictures he took today, he realises that none of them compare to you in his passenger seat right now. "do you think you'll say anything?"

"nah, there's no need," you pause thoughtfully. "he's making me dinner on friday. to get my mind off it all, you know? sometimes i really don't understand why he does all this for me, but..."

"he loves you," jungkook shrugs, and you can't help but wince like you've been pinched. "he said it himself, you're like family to him."

"really?" you chuckle. "what a sap."

"i told you. the nation's crybaby," jungkook smirks, pulling up outside jimin's place. he reaches out to touch your wrist when you go to remove his hoodie. "don't, you can keep it. don't look at me like that, i have like a hundred-"

"i'll wash it and bring it back to you," you take his hand before he can remove it. "thank you, jungkook."

"don't mention it," he starts, but you shake your head.

"not just for your hoodie," you say, the thrum of your heart suddenly in your ears again. you grip his wrist, tugging him over the console. it's like your body acts without your brain's permission because it's all over in a flash; jungkook's doe eyed face close to yours, your soft lips against his cheek in a short kiss.

his mouth is still hanging open slightly when you jump out his car and wave back cutely. he thinks maybe he imagined it, maybe he's about to wake up any second now. he's not sure why his palms are suddenly clammy and his heart is racing a mile a minute because lord knows getting his cheek kissed is the most innocent thing to take place in this truck, but he can't help it. the smell of you mixed with rain linger in the air and jungkook has to take a second to steady his hands on the wheel, fix his breathing like he's a fifteen year old who's never been within an inch of a girl before. for the first time in years, he panics.

don't bite off more than you can chew, jimin had said. and suddenly jungkook hears it differently.

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