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#I must become ashamed of myself again/j
moominpopzz · 1 month
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Taking applications from anyone who is willing to shoot me point blank so I can think of anything that isn’t southern William Wisp
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lucif5er · 3 years
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AssassinKatsuki x PrinceIzuku
Katsuki doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting in this cell. Was it weeks? Months? He can’t tell anymore. Days and nights have merged together to turn into one big blur. Finally, a guard arrives and tells him he’s been bought, by the prince of course. The prince he’s meant to kill.
He was hired to kill the prince, soon to be crowned king of Musutafu. They offered him a hefty sum, enough for his family to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. It was an offer Katsuki couldn’t refuse.
Izuku Midoriya was rumored to purchase prisoners and turn them into his slaves. Apparently, the bastard went through a new slave every month then they disappeared. Everyone around the kingdom has heard the rumors of the prince who kills his slaves once they were no longer useful to him. He was nicknamed Deku, fitting for a useless prince.
Getting imprisoned was the perfect way to infiltrate. The guard, a tall man with duo-colored hair and a scar on his eye walked him to a small room. “You must shower before meeting the prince. Everything you might need is in there.”
Katsuki could only scoff at the smug bastard. Once he was finished and changed the guard was already waiting for him at the door. He escorted him to what must have been the prince's room but stopped before the doors.
“Your majesty is waiting for you.” the guard says.
Katsuki pushes the door open and he spots a small man sitting on the bed. If this is the prince he’s definitely not what he was expecting.
Wild green curls sprout from his head which is filled with freckles that seem to be never-ending. When he turns to look at him, Katsukis breath catches in his throat. Big green eyes stare at him and he smiles so brightly at him Katsuki has to keep himself from looking away.
“H-hi um I’m Izuku but you probably already knew that uum so you’ll be working as my attendant so um well” the man starts mumbling while his cheeks and ears slowly turn pink “and well please take care of me,” he says as he bows.
“Are /you/ the prince they call Deku?” Katsuki asks and he can’t help the distaste in his voice.
The smaller man looks down as if ashamed and nods. “That's just a nickname b-but if that’s what you’d like to call me it’s no problem.” He says as he scratches his arm.
“Okay, Deku what is it that you would have me do? Will I get some type of training?”
Deku looks up and he's smiling again. “Oh well, you sort of j-just need to keep me company.”
“Tch so what am I like your fucking call boy or something?” and Katsuki feels disgusted at the words. Never would he have thought the prince stooped so low as to taking advantage of his servants before killing them.
Deku flinches at the words but takes a few steps closer to Katsuki anyways. “N-no of course not. I-I would never. Y-you will just be like a friend.”
Katsuki barks out a laugh that echoes through the room and when he turns to look at Deku he’s red all over and looks like a strawberry.
After a week of being Dekus “friend”, he learns that the prince is a nerd. He reads countless books and talks Katsuki’s ear off every day, from sunrise to sundown.
On the 7th day, one of the other servants disappears and Katsuki remembers he can’t be swayed by this monster in disguise, he has a job to do after all.
But on his way back to his servant quarters he hears one of the other servants talking about the one who disappeared.
“Prince Izuku took her back home last night. She was so happy. I’m going to miss her so much.” the servant girl says.
“I know Ochako but soon you’ll get to go too. You know we have to give the prince some time or we’ll get caught.” Katsuki recognizes Iida's voice right away. He’s the servant who helps Deku with his studies.
“I know I know Tenya. The prince is too kind for his own good.” Ochako says.
Katsuki didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Deku took the servant girl home? He freed her? There's no fucking way. So Katsuki stalks his way to Deku's room and doesn’t even bother knocking.
When he swings the doors open he sees Deku standing in front of his mirror, shirtless. His torso and back are covered in bruises but his arms...Katsuki is shocked at the scars on Deku's arms, they looked old but his skin looked mangled as if his skin was chewed up until the point of no repair.
Katsuki sucks in a breath and Deku turns holding a blanket to his body.
“Waacchan. Y-you scared me. I thought you were going to bed” Deku says with a look of mortification.
“The fuck happened to you Deku?” Katsuki asks as he moves to grab Dekus' blouse, holding it up for him to put his arms through it.
“O-oh it’s nothing I was just training with my father,” he says as he hisses at Katsuki’s light touch
“This seems like a little extreme don’t you think nerd?”
“Father says it’s character building for the future king”
Katsuki simply humms at his response.
As days turn into weeks Katsuki learns of Deku's garden which he tends to every day. Of his secret spot in the library that holds his favorite books. He learns of the constant abuse that is inflicted on him by his father.
But the kindness in his voice when he speaks to his servants or ‘friends’ as he calls them never leaves. He learns that in secret Deku sends provisions to the villages whom his father steals from. He learns that he is far too kind and gentle for his own good and Katsuki can’t help but grow angrier because how will he fulfill his job like this?
And every 7th day of the week Katsuki waits for him in his chambers with healing tools for his never ending cuts and bruises and burns. And he waits for Deku to break down because he can’t fathom a life like his but it never comes.
Deku only sits with his head held high and a shy look on his face as Katsuki tends to his wounds with the lightest of touches.
“Kacchan do you miss your family?” Deku asks him one night. This night Deku's wounds are the worst he’s ever seen them and Katsuki can’t help the rage that fills him.
“Why do you care?”
“H-huh oh I was jus-“
“I know that you free your servants” Katsuki doesn’t mean to sound so angry but he can’t help it. “I know you fake their death and send them away. Are you going to send me away too?” and it comes out as a whisper.
Deku just sighs. A look of indignation on his face. “My father is a cruel man, Kacchan” and Deku looks so sad, so fucking sad that Katsuki wishes he could kill every fucker that put this look on his face.
“Soon Kacchan will be home. I promise” and for the first time, Katsuki sees tears. They stream down freckled cheeks.
“Oi nerd whats with the tears”
“It's because it hurts Kacchan” Deku says with a small smile on his face
“Hah?! You get beatings on the daily and this is what hurts? The beatings getting to your head now?” Katsuki says with a grin.
“Ah, I really just wanted to see Kacchans smile.”
As Katsuki wipes a stray tear away and rests his forehead on Deku's he realizes that he may love this man, because the scent of bell orchids that he can smell when he’s near him, he very selfishly hopes that he’s the only one who ever smells his scent. Only him.
Katsuki’s love is slow, but even hearts of stone can long for something more. So it is, that Deku and he gradually move closer to one another as the days wore on, tiny fractions of an inch at the time, so slowly that even someone who was paying attention wouldn’t notice.
And when Katsuki starts feeling impatient, sometimes when the waiting is unbearable he finds himself moving entire inches at a time and he takes and takes and takes. Takes from Deku because he is always willing to give. He gives everything to Katsuki, bending to his touch.
—————————
“Lets leave this place Deku”
Deku pauses his watering and turns to look at Katsuki. “Leave?”
“Yes. Somewhere far away. Where no one can find us”
They stood there for a long time under the light blue sky until Deku finally spoke.
“We can’t leave my mother and-and our friends”
“They’re not your friends they’re your servants Deku”
“Maybe” Deku says with a sad smile “but Kacchan is my friend right?”
Katsuki sighs and takes Dekus hand and presses a soft kiss to it. “Yeah Deku but only me okay?”
“Of course. I love Kacchan the most.” Deku beams at him and in this moment Katsuki exists for a while in a state of blissful glow but the pressure of all this light is crushing his bones into powder. It’s too much.
Katsuki always believed that there was no such thing as too much love that it’s warmth was a comfort from which we never tire but when love turns to obsession it consumes itself. The flame that nourished becomes angry, merciless, an all consuming blaze that now leaves him confused by the chill in the air and the hate left behind.
——————
“The king has requested your presence” the guard whom he now knows is named Todoroki says.
Katsuki rises from his cot and walks out the door. “I can get there myself half’n’half” he says without turning.
When he arrives to the throne room /he/ is sitting there. But Katsuki does not see a king, no. He sees a tyrant, a murderer, an abuser. Hisashi Midoriya, the devil incarnate.
“It has been nearly 4 months and you have yet to complete your job Bakugou” the king says.
“I changed my mind. Keep your gold” Katsuki spits out.
“Oh? Then maybe you need a better incentive” he says nonchalantly.
Katsuki sneers at him. “I won’t do it you bastard. I’m leaving.”
“Tell me, do you think you can get there before your village burns to the ground?”
Katsuki’s eyes widen and he grits his teeth “You wouldn’t!”
“Are you willing to sacrifice hundreds for one person?”
“You fucking bastard I’ll kill you”
“Maybe one village isn’t enough. Well. There are always more villages.” And he laughs. The bastard has the audacity to fucking laugh. “You may go now but make sure you think about it. The coronation is coming soon.”
Katsuki leaves the throne room unbeknownst to the man standing just outside the door.
Please, God, Katsuki thinks, and then realizes that he had no idea what he was asking for. Please what? Please don’t let what happened happen? Please don’t let him take Deku away? Please don’t let me feel this way anymore?
Please take away this awful thing inside me.
——————
“You asked me if I missed my family” Katsuki says as he wraps yet another cut on Dekus arm.
Deku looks up at him with wide eyes then they turn sad but filled with understanding and already shiny with unshed tears but his soft smile doesn’t leave his face “Is Kacchan ready to go home now?”
He looks away, willing his own tears to go away but Deku sweeps him out of his chair and dances him around the room while Deku laughs in his arms, his movements smooth and graceful as ever.
Katsuki hugs him tight and the pressure on Dekus cuts must be hurting him because he whimpers but yet he doesn’t pull away.
“I can’t take you with me Deku”
“I know you can’t love”
“I’m sorry”
“Me too Kacchan” Deku says at his shoulder, but Katsuki hardly hears him. With one sudden movement he reaches out and thrusts the blade in his back.
“I will always love Kacchan the most” Deku breaths.
He just holds him there as Dekus body grows limp. When Katsuki dares to look at his eyes again they are no longer green, and he realizes that he didn't have a word for the color they were anymore. The color was bleeding and leaking out of his world in mere seconds.
And suddenly he hears it, in the heavy stillness of that wretched palace, the heavy pounding of boots through the corridors and the echoes of the shrieks, all running towards the direction of the training room.
“THE KING HAS BEEN MURDERED”
Katsuki wails.
He weeps until he can only lay next to him, motionless, with his lips almost touching Dekus, he closes his eyes and breaths. Wishes he could’ve told him that he was the closest thing to true love he had ever known.
But maybe he just wasn’t close enough, not this time, not this way. Maybe next time around, the universe will be kinder to them and Katsuki won’t be a monster and Deku won’t fall in love with him.
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mega-bastard · 3 years
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i was kidnapped by shiratorizawa ?!?!?!?!
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this was painful to write, but like a masochist I did it anyway. this is my part of the the first Whorehouse Collab, located here. Finally getting back into writing fanfics since like 2015, this was oddly therapeutic.
I wrote this under the influence of magic grass after binging several wattpad fics, enjoy at your own risk-- by which I mean laugh alongside me LMAO
The ending is sososo rushed, in true wattpad fashion <3 this was 1.3K words of nonsense
When I woke up today, I didn’t think I’d end up in such a bind— bindings to be more specific. I’m just your average little miss no one, another everyday student easily lost in the in the crowd. Wearing glasses and being like super shy does that to u, yknow?
Now, blindfolded and tied up, I can’t help but wonder just how someone so unnoticeable had gotten snatched up so suddenly— perhaps that was had why you were taken (insert Liam neeson voice: I will find you, and I will kill you hehe >:3). Now, with the full throb in my head beginning to subside— I started to recount what had bringed me into such s predicament
~ rewind to earlier in the day ~
I’d only just waked up when I received a text from my best friend mina (bnha wink wonk) gushing about or schools volleyball match— to say she was crazy in love aoba Joshuas volleyball team would be selling it crazily underwhelmed. Especially their captain, oikawa tooru ! Most of our school did, but I was really observant of the people around me— he gives me weird vibes, like he puts on an act or something. But still, I keep that thoght to myself so no one comes for me. Seriously, he’s got fans like a Kpop star (a/n haha stan bts for clear skin uwu)
Either way, her dragging me to a volleyball game is nothing new— and as she’s blowing my messages up like the world is ending I know  what to expect this coming afternoon. What a pain, I had planned on watching naruto when I got home today :(
There was no telling Mina no, so when we enviably met to walk to school I was well aware I’d be attending the volleyball match today. Boring, but I’d manage— I don’t care much for sports but sweaty and muscley men are finer than fine, I’d at least have spank bank material hehe (a/n not to whore on main buuuuuut ;3).
The day flew by and suddenly I found my self seated on the stands, waiting for the game to begin. Mina was chatting away, so when the urge to go to the bathroom came I simply got up and left— I wouldn’t get a word in edgewise, everyone always runs at the mouth and I can never get a word in as a result.
Not paying attention on my way to the bathroom, I suddenly shivered— feeling watched. I looked up from staring at the floor and was brought face to face with...the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Team ?!?! At the head was the tank of a captain, japans number one ace Ushijima Wakayoshi (a/n a whole snack yumyum) was indomitable and a scary man to be faced with. Ushijima was still as fierce as ever; I say that because we’d gone to middle school together— we never spoke or anything like that but we’d been in the same classes. He scrutinized my small form with impassive olive eyes, I felt rooted in place at such a state.
I shook myself from my little reverie and quickly scurried off, heart beating a mile a minute. “ just find the bathroom and head back to Mina “ I murmured to myself, finally finding the bathroom after rounding a corner. The feeling of being watched finally lifting.
After using the bathroom and began to head back, I could hear someone...singing something? I began to head towards it out of curiosity, peeking around a corner to see a tall red haired guy and a grey haired guy— they were wearing the same uniform so they must also be a part of the team as well! Lost in my thoughts, I was only briefly able to dick away before the red haired guy turned around to where I was peeking.
Ok seriously, let’s head back ‘ I thought before scurrying back to Mina— who grilled me on my absence before becoming entranced in the starting game. I stayed on my phone for the most part, reading one direction fanfic— with the phone screen down waaay low (a/n who else has done this before ???). Id peek every now and again to watch, at one point catching the eye of the tall red head— a chill ran down my spin at his impish smile that I looked away immediately.
He was...cute. In a scary way.
A sudden hush flew across the crowd and I looked up in time to see oikawas serve hit clean across the net, received by some guy with brown hair before being set by some twat with shitty hair (a/n shirabus a twat, their I said it >:/) before the ball was spiked back with a force unmatched.
That was Match point. Shiratorizawa wins.
The air is oppressive, oikawas fan girls— mina included, are wailing. That’s my cue to exit, bidding a mina goodbye I began my way down the hail, the rush of the court fading into background.
Then suddenly, rushing feet and the crack of something hard against my skull.
Darkness consumed me.
~ back to the present ~
Now back to the hear and now, I hear murmerings-- voices I don’t recognize. I try to listen, try to focus in on their voices but I can’t as the throbbing in my skull takes my focus away. A whimper escapes me, and a silence sweeps across wherever I am like a breeze-- it’s scary.
“haha, is she awake?” it’s the sing=songy voice from before-- the red head probably then? I know I needed to say something, anything, but I was still to disoriented. The sound of shoes nearing me immeadiatly set me off, beginning to wiggle and move before I was held still vision suddenly assaulted with brightness as my blindfold is redmoved.
Standing before, me in all their glory, is the Shiratorizawa volleyball team??
It looks like I’m being held in...an empty dorm room? I’m trying to gather my bearings and cannot figure what to possibly ay before being yanked up harshly from a laying position. It’s the red head holding me up, wicked smile and everything as he crouches in front of me before opening his mouth.
“ You belong to us now, got it~” his voice is too cheery given the words he’s just said to me (a/n tendou owns my heart and soul <3333 ), and only now does my voice find me. “ B-but w-why m-m-me ? You c-can’t j-just do t-that, please just let me g-g-g-g-g-g-go !” by the time I finish blubbering, theres tears streaming down my cheeks like rushing rivers. Through my lashes, I look pitifully around at everyone-- landing on an umcomfortble looking kid with a bowl cut, but he looks away as soon as i stare up at him.
no, no ,no nononono no ones going to help me. the tears fall puddle on the floor, only growing in speed when ushijima speaks. “ You’ll be transfering here, become our manager, and be staying in this dorm room-- it’s already been settled” (a/n idk I’d be p happy to be shiratorizawa’s manager uwu) his voice is deep and leaves no room for any back talk, but my stomach drops at his next sentence “Semi, put it on her’ my head whips up, starring doe eyed at the grey haired guy from before as he approaches with...IS THAT A COLLAR AND LEASH??? (a/n insert debby ryan face)
my face heats up, embarrassed and ashamed at the idea of being collared like an animal. I try to wiggle away, annoying Semi, “Tendou hold her still damnit!” at that Tendou-- the red head, grips my face with one hand to keep me still, gripping it hard enough that hes smushing my cheeks (a/n tendou, t e n d o u, loml, how I cherish thee) . He mutters a quiet cute, so faint I think I’m hearing things, before the tightening of the collar breaks me from that train of thought. With that done, I’m released, falling to my hands and knees staring up at the entire team now gathered before me.
A tug on the leash tugs me forward without much effort, and the tears spring up once more at the humiliation. 
“This is gonna be fun~”
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ok so I hoped you guys loved it <3 I’ll try my best to get out weekly updates, next chap I’m thinking I either focus on how ushijima and reader-chan actually do know eachother, shirabu and semi fiighting of reader-chans attention, or maybe tendou and reader-chan getting into trouble while draggin goshiki into it! SOund off in the comments and let me know what you think ?? anyway love you guys sm <33333
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thepointoftheneedle · 3 years
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Fragment
I’m really enjoying the fragments (and I freaked myself out with that word count thing so I’m taking some time off from writing....note to self -NEVER look at the stats page.). Anyway I keep trying to write this little soulmate thing but, without me intending it, it always becomes an academic paper on the philosophy of colour perception.  And I can’t imagine anybody but me is interested in that!
Below the cut anyway....(I guess this should have been for Friday but what the heck...)
His eyes fluttered open as he awakened but, feeling the warmth of the sleeping girl by his side, he closed them tightly.  He wanted them to have this experience together.  Nothing would ever be the same for them again.  It was a special moment for a couple and he wanted it to be perfect.  He had installed the app on his phone so he fumbled for it, knocking some loose papers from the nightstand and cursing gently.  She mumbled and stirred so he put his hand over her eyes.  “What the hell J?  What’re you doing?”  
“I’m opening up ‘Soul Truth.’  We can look together.”
“Oh J, no, don’t do that,” she moaned softly, beseechingly.
“Ssh, don’t worry.  It’ll be great.”  He kissed her gently, voice-activated the app and removed his hand from her eyes.  She was looking at him, not the screen so he gently turned her head and looked down as she did.  The screen was a uniform blue.  His stomach lurched.  It must be a glitch.  “Wait, wait a second,” he muttered, clicking the app closed and reopening it.  Solid blue.  He looked at her and saw the sadness in her beautiful dark eyes.  Sadness but not surprise.  
She reached out a hand and stroked his cheek softly, “Hey, I’m sorry J.  I didn’t want to disappoint you but I already knew.  I just didn’t feel it last night.”
“Jeez Rox, I’m so sorry.  I can do better, you just have to tell me what I did wrong.  I know I can be what you want. I thought you’d…I thought I felt you...”
“I did, Jughead, of course I did.  Listen.  It was great.  You were great.  So tender and kind.  It was beautiful and I really had a good time but it wasn’t…I don’t know.  It wasn’t whatever soul mates have.  You’ve heard Fangs talk about it.  It’s next level.  Transcendent.  What we had was great sex, but it was just great sex.  No angelic chorus.  You had to feel that?” She was normally tough and streetwise but now her voice was gentle, trying not to hurt him.  There was a painful lump in his throat.
“I thought it was transcendent, you were anyway. I think I’m falling in love with you Roxie.”  His voice was quavering.  He was ashamed of his weakness.  “It has to be a mistake. It’s the app.  It has to be.”  Abruptly he was up and heading down the hallway before she could say another word.  “Fangs, “ he yelled.  “You in there?” He stood waiting, shivering, in his boxers, while disgruntled groaning emanated from the room, until eventually the door opened a crack and Fangs peered out at him.
“Jones, the building better be on fire.  We didn’t get in til four.  What time is it?”
“Just after eight.  Look, is this broken?”
Fangs looked at the proffered screen blearily then a small smile appeared on his face.  “Aww cute bunny.”  Jughead snatched the screen back and swiped up.  An image appeared in his visible spectrum of a cartoon bunny rabbit holding out a carrot.  The legend underneath read “I wuv you.” 
“Uggh, why don’t they have something with a bit of gravitas?  Shit.  Fuck it!”  Jug turned around just as Fangs understood the situation.  
“Oh my god Jughead!  Did you and Rosaline finally do the do? Oh shit…you can’t see that can you? Oh Christ man, I’m so sorry.” 
Jug swallowed down his disappointment, just like he had been swallowing down his anger and sorrow and guilt and sadness for most of his life and shrugged at Fangs.  “No biggie.  Apparently I’m destined to die alone.  Whatever.”  He stalked off back to his own room only to find Roxie already getting dressed. “Roz, shit, can’t we talk about this?  Don’t go. Maybe it’ll happen later, perhaps it’s not always instant?”
Her voice was low and mournful when she spoke. “J I really care about you, you’re my good friend, but we’re both searching for something that we’re never going to be able to give each other. Let’s just take some time apart.  Maybe in a few months we’ll be able to go back to being pals again.  I’m really sorry that you’re disappointed.”  With that she was gone in a whisk of magenta hair and Cabotine perfume.
He sat on his bed and stared into space.  He’d been so sure.  She was a dear friend, she understood him, laughing at the same things, enjoying the same movies.  There was never any stress or conflict with her.  It was easy. She indulged his bad moods and cajoled him out of sulks with food and silly jokes.  He knew enough to leave her well alone when she was getting into one of her rages.  Then gradually, as they worked together on the documentary project, he found himself wanting to touch her hair, wanting to hold her tiny body against his in a protective embrace, wanting to make her feel good with his touches.  She’d seemed uncertain but he’d persevered, wooed her really.  Then finally, excited and giddy after the showcase where their documentary project had taken first place she’d kissed him and whispered, “Do you want to go back to your place?”  He’d been so happy as they’d crunched back to his apartment through the first snow of the winter.  He’d wondered if it might happen when they finished the film.  While sex tended to be the main way that a soul bond was revealed, a lot of soul mates actually bonded on completion of some other kind of shared project.  It hadn’t happened then but he’d been so sure that, if they made love, it would click and the missing shade would be revealed to them.  And then it hadn’t happened.
The app was pretty new.  Before the advent of the smart phone, folks would have a painting or a poster in their homes.  To those who were not matched it would look like an ordinary scene but once a soul bond was formed, the missing colour in the spectrum was revealed, and the soul mates could read the message in the image.  It was a little like a magic eye poster.  You looked at it for a moment or two and then the missing colour reconciled itself into words or an image.  Originally they had some gnomic inspirational quotation.   The one in the trailer he grew up in had, his mom said, had the Rolling Stone’s lyric, “You can't always get what you want but if you try sometime you find you get what you need.” Ironically FP and Gladys had been neither what the other wanted nor what they needed.  Later it would turn out that FP had lied when he stood in front of that poster and told the innocent, love-struck young girl, wrapped in the sheet from his bed, that he saw it  for the first time too. Actually he’d already bonded with someone else, someone who had no intention of getting tied up with a guy in a gang from the wrong side of the tracks.  He must have thought it was his lucky day, a second chance for happiness, when the beautiful girl he’d been romancing excitedly admitted that she could see the colour for the first time.  He’d nodded enthusiastically, said, “Yeah, me too,” and whisked her away to a world of damp trailers, drunken arguments and angry guys repossessing their truck, or the tv, or the kids’ toys.  She’d stayed because she believed he was her soul mate.  She thought she had no other options until, in a drunken rage, he’d revealed that it had always been a lie. She snatched up her daughter and left him.  And left the boy too, unwilling to take a kid who looked so much like the man she had been fool enough to trust and who had ruined her life with his lies.
The fact that scumbags with no moral scruples lied about this shit had led to the development of checking apps like Soul Truth, “the truth, the soul truth and nothing but the truth” according to the tag line.  You both looked at the screen and noted down what you saw, then swiped up and the image was revealed in ordinary unbonded colours.  It made it harder for predators and perverts to take advantage of young innocents while their good sense was overwhelmed by romantic dreams.  It also revealed that about ten percent of bonds were unreciprocated like Jughead’s parents, one of the couple bonded and the other didn’t.  Those couples had to decide if they would make that work, aware that one was more invested than the other, or if it was better to simply part, the bonded still feeling that desperate pull to their mate even decades later. Jug guessed he should be relieved that he hadn’t seen the colour that morning since, clearly, Roz was just not that into him.
He’d been sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the rug like that for thirty minutes when Fangs tapped softly on the door.  “Not now,” he snapped but Fangs ignored him and pushed open the door.
“Ok Jug.  I know you’re upset but it just means you haven’t found her yet.  She’s still out there and if you go into one of your epic sulks you’ve got less chance of meeting her.  What classes have you got today?”
“Nothing I can’t cancel.  Everyone’s cramming for Finals.  I was supposed to meet the princess to go over the final layout for the literary magazine.  She can do it on her own.  She’ll like that better anyway.” 
Now Kevin joined his boyfriend in the room, both of them making him feel self indulgent and guilty with their solicitousness.  “You shouldn’t shut yourself away and mope, Jughead.  Go and edit like a champ and then come by the theatre for us and we’ll go for burgers. We’re striking the set but we can take a break.  Our treat.  What do you say?”
Jughead pondered for a moment.  Nothing was going to change if he sat here, the princess would  be unbearable if he blew her off, and burgers on someone else’s tab were his favourite kind of burgers, so he grudgingly allowed himself to be persuaded.  
An hour later he was in the midst of a heated argument with the princess about his perfectly legitimate decision to kill a terrible poem about the fall which she, inexplicably, had marked for an already overcrowded page four.  “You can’t just take things out without consultation Forsythe.  We’re an editorial committee, we make decisions together.  It’s supposed to be a collaboration.”
“What, you want to keep this pile of third grade horseshit do you? And you’re just calling me that to make me mad. Don’t think I don’t know.”
“I didn’t say that.  It’s terrible.  It obviously has to go.  But you can’t just do it unilaterally. And you can’t call me Princess and not expect me to retaliate.  You know my name.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake Princess... sorry, my humblest apologies, for fuck’s sake Betty.  What the hell are we arguing about if we both think it’s bad and needs to go? And why is it even in here in the first place?”
“It’s in there because we were waiting on your egregiously late piece of sub Lovecraftian geek porn.  I was filling space.  Since you finally got your ass in gear we don’t need it anymore. So spike it.”  She had this way of making him feel like he lost, even when he won an argument.  It was infuriating.
They worked on pagination for another couple of hours with surprisingly little conflict, and then he wrote kickers for a few of the longer submissions, hoping to tempt the reader to give a story a chance.  She made sure the submissions were correctly attributed and that the running heads and page numbers and folios were in place.  Finally it seemed that they were done.  He clicked back to the front page, checked the position of the artwork and the masthead and looked over at her with a questioning expression to see if she was satisfied. She nodded her approval and, at last, under the words “Joint Editors”, he typed "Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones.”    As he clicked ‘save’ something shifted in his field of vision.  He was alarmed, pushing back from the desk and looking around, meeting her startled eyes.  Her green eyes, which weren’t green anymore.  He couldn’t describe what colour they were, there were no words.
“What just happened?” she whispered, obviously badly frightened.  
“Does…does anything look different to you?” he replied, hesitantly, reaching for his phone.
“Yes, everything.  What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure. Look at this.” He pulled up the app.  On the screen he could see, without difficulty, a cartoon cat, Pusheen maybe, its paws deep in some dough.  The caption read “I knead you.” As he read the words in his head, she said them aloud. “Fuuuuck,” he murmured.  “I think we’re soulmates, Princess.”
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doomstypewriter · 3 years
Note
abt the last ask: u dont have to include it ofc (if u write it at all) but i thought id let u know that its based on the mental image i suddenly had of j climbing up to pats window, knocking on the shutters, pat pulling him in by his lapels and immediately kissing him (if you can even call it that with how hard theyre smiling) & then sometime later pat hearing like his dads footsteps coming toward his room as theyre making out so pat scrambles off his bf & shoves him in his closet (the irony)
Anon, finally, here you have it, but with a twist. This got completely out of hand, as per usual when I write anything. Since you were so nice (/li) to send me your request in two parts, I will actually break your prompt into two parts, otherwise, it’s never going to end. I hope you’re pleased by the first part, also, I am answering to this first because it matches the content of the first part. 
Thank you so much for your lovely prompt! Hope you enjoy! 
If anyone wants to be tagged for this let me know in a comment!
AO3
Chapter 2 >>
We call it an affair because it’s a forbidden romance
Summary:  An encounter in the dark. The disdain of society. A forbidden romance. Royalty is involved and a title is at stake. Will an aspiring count, Patton Morandi and his rogue lover Janus overcome the barriers laid in front of them?
(We're in it for the drama)
---
“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.
“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”
Word count: 3848
Pairings: Moceit, future Prinxiety.
TW:  Homophobia, internalised homophobia, deadnaming a trans person, misogyny, mentions of religion, hopelessness, ideological things you would expect from the period (I'm not sure if there's anything else, but please tell me).
Chapter 1 of 2: 
Balcony kiss
How the moonlight shone in its quiet dance with the nightly air. It was a mostly clear summer evening, the second day of the week-long festival. The sounds of music and colourful lights could be heard and seen from the distance, but gradually decreased as a certain thief made its way across the gardens of Villa Morandi. For certain, the head of the family would not be excessively happy about the entire ordeal, but no disgruntlement could come out of those things of which one has no knowledge of, and Janus surely intended to keep his entanglement a secret. 
He crossed the bushes and jumped over marble balustrades expertly, careful to avoid the lights of the servant quarters, where their residents were reading themselves for departure. 
“Signor Morandi seems to be in good spirits lately, it is fortunate that most of us can leave for the festival”. 
Any news about the man was something worth listening to, given his situation, so he decided to stay and see if they mentioned something useful. Also, he, admittedly, enjoyed gossip. 
“Loretta! Don’t be such a bragger in front of us!”
“Why? I’d say the only one lamenting not being able to go is you. You should be ashamed for dragging poor Virginia in with you to make yourself sound less self-centred”. 
Janus silently nodded. 
“That is not true! I am merely trying to make the newcomer feel welcome! And here you are making her feel excluded, who is now in the wrong?” 
Weak retort, wannabe-partygoer, he thought. 
“Va, va…” the other maid answered dismissively “Quit holding her like that! Don’t you see she’s uncomfortable?! Povera bambina”. 
“Come on Virginia, don’t you think it’s a waste for such a wrinkly woman to be let out instead of us?” 
“Who are you calling old?!” 
“You did, but now that you so kindly brought it up, you are old! Turning wrinklier by the second!” 
Alright, at this point, Janus could not help but be rooting for Loretta, going for the old card was the low-hanging fruit. 
“I may be your senior, but I promise you that regardless of that nonsense about wrinkles you’re babbling I’m ten times more fair looking!”
“Ah!” she exclaimed with feigned indignation. “Can you believe her? She’s delusional!”
“Well then, the delusional one will not search for a man at the festival, such a pity I will not be introducing anyone to you this week!”
He smiled at the comeback. Way to go, Loretta. 
“Loretta! Just because you had the luck to get engaged doesn’t give you the right to rob others of their chances. Don’t be so mean, I’ll apologise if I must”. 
“Alright, but never dare call me wrinkly again, for you will owe this old woman when I find you a husband. Virginia, I can help you too if you want it, I know plenty of young lads who would love to…” 
“Oh, no, I’m not really interested”. 
At this point Janus had quenched his thirst for amusement and begun to lose his interest, having more pressing matters to attend to. But, one new comment made him reconsider the usefulness of his eavesdropping for longer on the ladies’ conversation. 
“That’s right, Loretta, don’t you see she’s here on official duty. To suggest for her to slack off with men… ts, ts… “
“Oh, you shut up! Don’t fret, Virginia, dear, I should have remembered you were sent for an urgent matter”. 
“True, true! Tell us if you can, is it as they say? Was her ladyship done in by pirates?” 
“Elda! Such crude language, you dare call yourself a lady, how can you say something so insensitive?”
“What? You want to know as badly as I do, besides, if it is true, then there is no changing it, and if it’s not then it’s fine, as her ladyship is still alive”. 
“I’m so sorry, Virginia, just ignore her”. 
“Don’t worry. As far as I’m willing to say, her ladyship still lives but I cannot disclose any further information”. 
Oh. 
No. 
When one spies on others, bad news exists as a possibility, but, usually, in the form of getting caught. This happened to be worse. Being spotted? That he could deal with. Having his heart ripped out after one stellar month? Not so much. 
He ran. 
Not from his problems. More or less towards them. 
The marble balcony seemed as unreachable as ever. A sense of dread loomed over his thoughts, while a mix of feelings, now turned into urgency, settled in his heart. 
Raising a hand Janus willed his trustworthy companion to fall from the nightly skies. Meanwhile, he began to climb the walls of the manor. There was an undeserved elegance in his motions, not becoming of such an honourless goal, and, nevertheless, fitting for a thief like him. 
The hawk swept inside the room from a window and cast the doors to the balcony open. 
Janus promptly grabbed onto the bass of the marble balustrade. One month ago he had received news of something that would simplify his life. He knew he should not care, it was going to end poorly no matter what. But, rereading two months worth of love letters and hoping for an uncertain future, he could not help but feel happy. That made his resolve to return in time for the festival. 
From the room came a sound of rushing footsteps. 
Three months of yearning to see a face again. 
That image made Janus more desperate, and, in his haste, he committed one fatal mistake. His grip on the marble slipped. At a thirty feet height, the ground beckoned him. 
But, just when his doom seemed so certain, he was caught by the front of his cape and safely gathered against a pair of lips. 
With such smiles stretching their faces, it could barely be called a kiss. But, the intensity of the affections behind it rendered the notion meaningless. 
“My love”, Janus muttered as they parted ever so slightly. 
“You scared me, silly. I miss you for three months and when you’re returned to me I almost lose you for good”. 
“Let’s be happy you were there to catch me”. 
“Thank the Lord, and if He wills it, I will always be”. 
“I ought to be grateful to you, my dear, not the ones above” he answered while stepping to the safe side of the balcony. 
“Well, our poor feathery friend can’t be too happy about that” Patton laughed dismissively, gazing at Janus’ hawk. 
“You’re right. I neglect to show my gratitude, perhaps you could give me somewhere to start?”
“Oh, but how can I hand you my room, my sweet, the stones of the house are too heavy!” 
“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”. 
“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?” 
Janus laughed in delight. 
“Let me make you smile in turn, then”, he said, whilst extending his hand. 
The touch of Patton’s palm felt like a warm pressure through the barrier of his leather gloves. Perhaps all of his interactions were as imperfect as their naked hands not being able to meet. Janus’ fake gallantry, their hopes, may be short-lived in the face of change. But, for now, he would rather enjoy pretending. 
He pulled Patton to the inside of the alcove. 
“Are you refined now?” Patton laughed. 
“Of course, I have always been. Whatever could lead you to ask such a question? If I were to be a thief, which I am not, I would be the most honourable”. 
There was a certain amount of delight to be found in catching his lover in the midst of changing into his night robes, judging by those being laid out onto the bed’s ostentatious covers. Despite such a degree of luxury surrounding Patton, he still refused to task any servant to dress him. What was there not to love about the man? 
Patton made a motion as if to hold his hands, only to surprise him by pulling his gloves off. Any other person, and it would have been a display of sensuality, coming from him, it was like movement turned into honey, perhaps a mixture of both. Indeed, there was everything to love about him. 
Maybe not all. Janus dreaded to admit how deep in he had allowed himself to be for this man. 
A fool for a good man. 
His hands felt the light night coldness in their grip on the linen shirt. Janus almost wanted to chastise himself as the thought of kissing away the kiss of the midnight breeze came to mind. He hid in the curve of Patton’s neck, sliding his lips along it, feeling like a coward whispering a lie. Countless lies. Telling himself this was enough, that he could bear the thought of this man taken away from him by a woman, that the thrill in this forbidden form of vice was not his worry taking yet another disguise. 
“Oh, you’re a thief alright”. 
“Is there something of yours I happen to have taken?” Janus retorted with a vague tone of amusement. 
Patton cradled his left cheek in a firm request to see his face. Who was Janus to deny him? 
“You know all too well you have”. 
Oh. 
“Well, that would make two of us”. 
Patton’s expression melted into more honey. It always made Janus unsure as to whether he had made a mistake, no matter how unfounded the doubt was. 
“Thank you” the words rebounded in proximity against the other’s lips. Janus didn’t know Patton could also be cruel. 
“A little sincerity never hurt anyone”. 
“You are not anyone” he smiled softly. 
“Then make the pain up to me”.  
Both their lips made contact like a wax seal on a letter. Janus pushed Patton against a low piece of furniture. From how the other fumbled, he could tell a corner was pressing against him. Despite the sting, Patton still committed himself to their affections. If that wasn’t a metaphor for their relationship Janus didn’t know what it was. Janus knew Patton would disagree, of course. 
It seemed that exchanging one piece of furniture for another, the bed, would not be possible. Someone was knocking on the door. 
“Janus…” Patton panicked in a hushed voice.
“Not a problem, my dear, this is my speciality” he smiled at him. 
Janus’ feet almost flew over the carpet, muffled by the Persian fibres and his expertise on avoiding the parts of the floor that creaked. He turned the key of Patton’s wardrobe without the distinctive noise most people couldn’t avoid. Luckily for them, he wasn’t most people. The door mysteriously closed itself from the inside. Janus could swear to hear Patton draw a breath in wonder as to how he had done it. 
“My son, let me in!” a voice came from the corridor. 
“On my way, father”. 
The mule-like bray of the alcove’s door hinges Janus detested preceded the sound of a set of footsteps he knew and loathed just as well, if not more.
“Were you reading yourself for bed? Ah, do not answer, I can already see your night robes over there. How many times need I tell you, call the servants to dress you, it is unbecoming that you do not. Moreso with the status you are to acquire”. 
Janus almost scoffed upon hearing it.
It wasn’t that Janus outright looked down on Signor Morandi. He certainly held an admirable reputation and an even more admirable wealth. He contributed to the church, upheld his honour, was a patron to a few talented artists and did everything expected from someone of his status. By societal definition, he was an outstanding man. But, he could never understand Patton. Yes, Patton’s behaviour in public also stood to scrutiny. He was a young man to be admired, for sure. Yet, it somehow mismatched any other person’s strive for reputability. Patton lacked this performative quality, eagerness, if you will, that he found time and time again in people. 
At first, Janus struggled to comprehend it. Everyone had desires outside of the strictly polite, they either pretended they didn’t or tried to hide it, that’s why they paid the church, after all. Janus didn’t believe people made an effort to actively align with the global canon for morality, just to look like it or deceive themselves. This theory on society made it so when he met Patton he simply dismissed him as a try-hard, later to relabel him as self-deceiving. Maybe he was a victim of his own biased cynicism. 
As they grew closer, he started to get the whole picture. To his surprise, Patton tried to get his desires to align with what he perceived as morally correct, sometimes failing miserably. Janus’ presence in his room didn’t qualify as a success by society’s criteria... Patton’s effort to be ‘good’ did not come from a place of wishing to be perceived as such. Patton didn’t want to look good, he needed to be good. A good man. The realisation was hard to process but true. 
Once he understood that, Janus could not let go. It stands to reason that, if that kind of person were to earn his affection, someone like his father would awaken his spite. Signor Morandi had simply never made an effort to understand his son’s motivations, unlike Janus. If he was a cynic, Patton was a victim to his own good intentions. 
“I do not understand”. 
“Lady Renata Regio is alive”. 
“Oh”. 
“Yes, it is most fortunate, you will no longer have to stay inside and miss the festival”. 
“Well, father, I am not sure if that is appropriate, her ladyship must be feeling poorly after such a horrid experience. Perhaps it is best if I stay in and promptly send a letter to help soothe her”. 
“Patton, it honours you to be willing to put the weak’s suffering before yours, but it is not needed in this case. You do not have to concern yourself with her. I am afraid that she is safe and sound on the account of having planned her own kidnapping. Lady Renata Regio has joined the pirates bringing disgrace upon her family, the wretched woman”. 
Yes! Janus thought. Neither the wardrobe nor the entire room could contain his joy at hearing it. 
“That is most unfortunate, should I reassure her family that I do not hold any resentment towards them?” 
“It would be no good, there is going to be a scandal!” Signor Morandi sounded too happy. 
Janus could not help but to smile a little.
“Are we going to pursue any retaliation?” Janus almost saw Patton shudder in the tone he used. “I do not think it necessary, it is a matter of marriage, although important, there are many other options that--” 
“Yes, there are many other women to pursue, that is the spirit! In said spirits, I must inform you of the most wonderful news I have just received”. 
What? 
“Today a trusted servant from the Regio estate arrived at our home”. 
“Yes, Virginia Fusco”, of course, Patton knew her name. “I personally received her, she refused to tell me exactly why she was sent here, also insisted to wait to talk to you”. 
“Precisely, well, it turns out she is the personal servant of Lady Romina Regio”. 
“The eldest of the twin daughters of the Regio?” 
“Indeed. Let me be frank with you son, the Regio know they cannot keep the true actions of their lesser daughter hidden forever, a rumour is meant to surface eventually. This is very unfortunate for them, I have heard they were planning to match Lady Romina with a higher member of the nobility. Her sister’s actions have ruined her chances, it is unlikely that whoever was to marry her will accept such a union. My son, you know I always have your best interests in mind, Lady Renata Regio was a fine choice to provide you with connections to nobility. In turn, her family would have got access to our wealth, which, after their losses in the war, they need”. 
Oh no. 
“This being the circumstances, they have to choose how to align themselves in the future and what would be more advantageous to the family”. 
“Shit” Janus said under his breath. 
“We are about to reach an agreement for a marriage between Lady Romina Regio and you. I need you to understand that, if you are to accept, you will have to face some troubles, at least initially. The rumours about Lady Renata’s motivations may taint your reputation for a short while and the Regio’s rush to marry off Lady Romina will raise more rumours”. 
“What choice would please you the most?” 
“Oh, Patton, you idiot”. 
“The union could make your child a count, you could potentially obtain a title depending on how we negotiate with the family. It is my wish that you accept this marriage”. 
“Will this bring honour to our family?” 
“Certainly”. 
“Then…” an air of doubt went through Patton’s voice. 
Janus was debating whether or not to burst out of the closet, either to tell him to refuse or to scold him for not accepting immediately what was probably the best opportunity of his life. 
“Of course I will accept”. 
“You make me very happy and proud, my son. I will meet with the servant girl to send her back with a letter requesting to meet with Lord Regio”. 
The words were spoken carelessly. Signor Morandi often did that around his son, not knowing how many times he had been overheard by him. He may be a great man by society’s standards, but he could never be a good man. 
Janus slumped against the back of the wardrobe, surrounded by pieces of clothing he could never afford. There was a world in which Patton had refused. But Patton hadn’t been left a real choice, so he could find some comfort in knowing this thing between the two had to end due to him being backed into a corner. Better than having Patton’s morals come between them. That, he would never reconcile with. 
This was better than before. Being cast away for something as mundane as marriage, no matter the useful connections involved, was one thing, being left for a countess, well, if that’s what it took to refuse him he wouldn’t complain too much. 
He would have preferred a marchioness or a duchess. 
He would have preferred to be the only thing standing in between Patton and kingship and still win. 
He would definitely prefer it if Signor Morandi was to accidentally fall down a flight of stairs on his way to writing his pesky letter. 
There was nothing like a fire to persuade someone, even a countess… 
But Patton would be upset. 
His hawk screeched from the roofs above. Then footsteps rushed to his side, followed by candlelight flooding the inside of the closet. 
Patton had no right to look so humble yet so marvellous. Not even the warmth of the flame could rival with that of his gaze. A gaze that was his’, not of any countess. But, still, a gaze that deserved to become a count. 
“Janus…” 
Honey clogging up his ears, that was the shape of a whisper. 
“I suppose”, he shook off the dust of his cape and held his head up with dignity, “this is when we part. I’d love to say it’s a pity, but we saw it coming. Guess it was nice to enjoy it while it lasted. I’m always a letter away, my dear, that countess of yours wouldn’t ever find out”.
This was the bitter taste of selflessness. He never understood how Patton enjoyed it. 
Janus turned around, ready to make his merry way out of Villa Morandi or fall off the balcony properly this time. Suddenly, Patton’s armed chained the two of them to their spot in the room. Patton’s chest heaved pitifully in a mockery of a hiccup. 
“I’m sorry. What was I supposed to do? There was no other choice. I didn’t wish to upset you. Please--” 
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
He promptly let him go. 
“I…”
Janus turned back to face him.
“You think crying will make this easier? Do you seriously think I enjoy this? I would gladly rob you of everything and have you entirely to myself. It is taking so much self-restraint to not get your father into a tragic accident, my dear. If anything, you’re making it worse by crying. I am doing this for you. Don’t you dare ruin the one honourable thing I will do in my life”. 
“How can I pretend to be happy when you’re leaving?” 
There were sparks of light encased in his tears. Something about their ironic beauty left him even more heart-broken. 
“What am I going to do, then? I can be selfish to an extent, but I cannot take the rest of your life too. You’re being offered a title and a wife, all the things someone at your level could wish for. Don’t be more of an imbecile, keep it. It is already inappropriate for you to be seen with the likes of me, and it’s even worse with me being a man”. 
“You’ve never cared about that”. 
“But you do! Let resume, dear”, he tried to say in his most condescending voice. It didn’t sound even remotely like it. “You go to church each Sunday, you have five bibles just in this room and the most sincere good-samaritan complex I have ever seen. I know you can’t bear to live in sin”. 
“I can’t bear to live without you either!”
Oh, Patton, you fool, silly, ridiculous man…
  “What…” he felt as if he was going crazy. 
A chuckle escaped through the spaces in between his teeth. Janus looked downwards and whispered. 
“What are you saying?” 
This self-consciousness, he had never felt anything like it before. Was he blushing? 
“I love you… I know it’s wrong, so why doesn’t it feel like it?” 
More honey. What a way for his plan to backfire.
“This is ridiculous, you should be concerning yourself with more important--” 
Patton placed the back of his hand under his jaw to raise his head with such gentleness... stupid. 
“Is it ridiculous when it’s making you cry like this?”
A compassionate man’s tears were not worth his. He had never been as sure as now that this was a mistake. Yet he longed for him more than ever. 
“Of course not” he wiped away his tears feigning some kind of dignity. 
As quickly as ever, he also pretended to regain his composure. 
“Do you have any sort of plan for what you’re going to do next? Under pressure, you’re a terrible improviser, my love”.  
“Well...I can’t let you go. I know as much. I should, for my family, father, my honour. But I will not. You’ve shown me that acting selfishly doesn’t make someone evil. I will find a way to fulfil my duty without giving you up, you have my word”.
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Text
flower of hope: chapter 1 [jung hoseok]
Tumblr media
writer: yellow hippo
genre: psycho au, angst
characters: jung hoseok, laelynn [original female character]
synopsis: currently on a hiatus from her ballet classes abroad, she reminisces about a certain street dancer from her past. she meets him again as she was recruited as a muse for his video project. what happens when she tries to win his heart? would she make or break his hard-earned passion and career?
story:
✾ CHAPTER 1 ✾
Because of my childish love...
“I am your hope. You are my hope. I’m J-”
I smile at my phone screen as I watch some BTS concert clips. They never stop to amaze me. Everyday, they achieve more and more than they already have. They inspire me.
But more than anyone else, there is one certain member that keeps me dreaming.
I remember how I used to watch his underground dance group busker on the streets of Gwangju. Back then, the number of people watching was nothing compared to the number of people that flocked their tours today.
I wanted that too. I wanted what he has accomplished. It might not be the same stage, but it is the same ambition. An ambition I kept holding on to because I want to be noticed, appreciated. I wanted him to know how his mere existence pushed a simple country girl into becoming a star as bright as he has become.
I haven’t disappointed him. I’ve gotten offers from international dance schools as the local ballet studio found it a waste for me to rot in the local scene. They thought it an honor for the crumbling ballet school to have one of their best students attend a prestigious school. 
I lost my way on a path of dream…
It’s been 4 years, and now I’m back in Seoul.
4 years and I’ve somehow fulfilled my promise. 
I am now a flower on stage. People clamber at my feet just to get a whiff of my performance. But of course, I turn everyone down. I don’t want bees flying around me after all. I don’t want them sucking on my sweet passion and just leave. I want a butterfly instead. No buzzing, just silence. And its wings are so majestic, unlike any other. 
“Miss Laelynn, I believe?” A breathless man ran up and bowed to me.
“Yes, I am she. Ryu Sejin-ssi?” 
He nods with a smile as he offers to get my luggage for me. I followed him out of the airport as I was led.
“My apologies but the car is a little bit messy. The boys just came from a schedule and I had no time to change cars.” 
Sejin opened the door as he scratched his head in shame. I told him it was no problem and I understood how crazy the schedule of the group was. They have been getting more and more popular recently. So of course, it was a given that time was limited for those people working with and for them.
“So, Sejin-ssi. When would I have the honor to meet BTS?”
From the rear view mirror, Sejin looked at me excitedly.
“Oh you’ll meet them tomorrow at lunch, miss Laelynn. Everyone is excited. It’s a first for him to work with a dancer of a different genre than theirs.”
“Likewise.” I smiled, meeting his gaze.
The venom of my ambition... 
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” I offered my hand for a shake to each of the boys. Their smiles were indeed dazzling. I understand now why girls are getting greedy over them. 
“I believe I’ll be working with-?” I asked them in general.
“With me, Laelynn-ssi.” He raised his hand shyly and giggled behind one of the other boys. 
“Ah of course. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”
“Recognize me? Have we met before?” He asked in wonder, his eyes searching mine for any memory.
“Oh no. But I have seen you dance since you were young. I’m also from Gwangju, you see.” 
“Ah. Well, that’s embarrassing.” He rubbed his palms together as he laughed awkwardly.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You were the best dancer out of your group. If I remember correctly, I saw you get scouted many times by agencies after every performance.” 
He keeps getting redder by the moment. Every little memory I say make him stutter on the spot. The other boys all laughed and patted his back as they all laughed and agreed how good of a dancer he is. 
“I’ll finally be able to see that greatness I’ve admired from afar.” I smiled sweetly at him and his stuttering came to an abrupt stop, but the teasing of the other boys only made him go redder than he already was.
I can’t wait to play with my little butterfly even more.
I sharpened my knife every day…
Because practice was not the only schedule keeping the group busy, my game with my butterfly had to wait a little more. But I’m patient enough. I’ve worked hard for four years honing my dancing skill just to reach the top. What’s a few more days, or even weeks, of waiting if I’ll be rewarded grandly.
“Sorry I kept you waiting, Laelynn-ssi.” 
“No worries, oppa. And please, call me Lynn. No need for formalities, remember? Do you want me to feel awkward just by calling you ‘oppa’?”
“Of course not. Lynn-ah, then. I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting. But I really appreciate this. I know there are better opportunities out there but you took this one instead.”
“Hey. It’s actually an honor working with you. BTS? Who would’ve thought I’d get contacted by them for a special project?”
Perfect pace. No need to hurry. There’s nothing in the way after all. Again, I just got to be patient. I’ll be able to make my move once my butterfly takes the bait and stay. 
This love is another name for the devil.
We were both breathless. Our bodies are hot from all the exertion. 
“Man, that was intense.” He chuckles as he looks at me.
“I missed that. I thought you softened up what with all this idol life going on. Who knew you could still go hard. I surely didn’t. You drained me out enough, I can’t even feel my thighs anymore. I’m gonna have to be wheeled out of here.”
“I didn’t go that hard. What are you talking about?” He laughs at my whining and we both stared at the ceiling, finally able to catch our breaths. 
“Yeah, you didn’t. This is nothing compared to my mentor in Paris. We’d start at the crack of dawn and end when the owls start hooting for the night.”
“You must have been really tired then. No wonder you’re one of the best ballerinas of this country.”
“Thanks. I’ve done my best for someone. Now I’m happy. I feel like I can finally rest now that I’m finally noticed.” 
“He must be one lucky guy then.”
“You are lucky, indeed.” I whispered. I lifted myself up from the floor and crawled the distance between us. My knees on each side of his waist and my hands on his chest.
Slowly, I leaned down until our lips softly met. I felt he gasp in surprise, his lips parting unexpectedly at what I did. Grabbing his face in my hands, I deepened our kiss.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, oppa.” I pecked his lips one last time before getting up and out of the studio. 
The last thing I see is him still lying on the floor as he touched his lips with his fingers.
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stevenbasic · 4 years
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I had just started to feel a little better. Takeoff was a success and we weren’t going to die. Melissa’s right hand was still on mine, now on my left thigh, holding it there to comfort me through liftoff. But she had since turned to look out the window - and had given me the chance to ogle her huge tits in profile...an opportunity I surreptitiously took. Lord god they seemed bigger every time I saw her. This fine morning, en route down south to our conference, she looked absolutely ready to burst out of her tight white top. I’d been outright staring at her chest for nearly a minute. 
"Everything looks so small from up here!" she marveled, gazing down at the disappearing cityscape as we climbed into the clouds.  Christ, her breasts were enormous. “I like small things, don’t you?” she asked as she casually arched her back, completely unaware that I was still absolutely goggling in wonderment at the bulge and projection of her giant breasts. 
Small? I mused, lost in the reverie of this private, furtive moment I was sharing with her knockers. There is -nothing- small about this overgrown girl…
Wait. Had she asked me a question?
“Uhhh…” I began. If she was expecting a reply, it didn’t seem to trouble her. 
“Everything is cuter when it’s smaller, right?” she quipped, still distracted by the view out the window as I continued to be captured by the view of her mind-blowing torso, “Like, kittens. Cats are cuter when they’re smaller, right? Just like little cars...super cute. Little tiny purses, carrots, brilliant little doctors...cute, cute, cute when they’re smaller.”
Wait what?
I tore my eyes off her chest just in time to avoid being caught as she quickly turned back to me, smiling with mischief. Jesus! Obviously she saw a reaction on my face that gave her pause. 
 “Oh, I’m sorry…!” she said with sudden concern, eyes going wide, “We really haven’t been able to talk, since Friday...are you okay?”
“Wh-what...what do you mean?”
“The...the ‘little doctor’ comment,” she began to explain with chagrin, “I was just trying to be funny…”
“Yeah thanks for reminding me,” I said, chuckling, recovering. It may sound weird but over the past couple days, since the ignominious measurement fiasco at the department store, I’d actually come to a certain peace about my height,or new lack thereof. I was not the (almost) 5’11” I thought I was. Somehow, since I last remember my height having been measured, I’d lost two inches...at least.
If I knew then, sitting in the plane, what I know now I would be mourning much more than a lost couple inches. Any sane person - especially a medical professional like myself - wouldn’t be going to a conference with their busty co-worker: they’d be rushing to get investigative testing. But the idea, the fact that I was 5’8” was beginning to bother me less. I was actually a little proud of myself, being so relaxed about it….what’s the big deal, right? I now realize, though, that my psyche had already been deeply changed, an early part of this whole process that’s brought me..here, to where I’m speaking to you today. I was just none the wiser.
“Really, everything’s fine, it’s normal,” I assured Melissa, fiddling with my seat belt and convincing myself I sounded brave and unperturbed, “these things happen when one gets older.”
“Omigod you are not old,” she howled, slapping my shoulder with her free hand, “you’re only…” Her eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Uh…”
“...more than ten years older than you,” I said wryly. 
Is there a reason she’s still holding my hand?
She smiled, eyes glittering, inspecting me. “Yes, but…” she said, “Three inches though?? That’s...weird, right?”
”Well, sure. But the last time I measured my own height was probably, like, many years ago,” I said, hoping I was sounding calm, “so it’s happened slowly, over like five or ten y-“
“I dunno,” she interrupted, “I feel like you've definitely shr...gotten shorter just since I’ve known you.” She looked me over, up and down. “But maybe it’s more...me.”
”What do you mean?” I asked, as I noticed her adjust her bra over her left shoulder and then turn to look again, wistfully, out the window. 
“Oh, nothing…” she replied, “It’s just that with this new little growth spurt I’m having, maybe my perspective is…”
Just then, the tall, blond flight attendant showed up aside me. “You two look like you need some champagne,” she offered, lowering a tray of well-filled flutes down between us. 
“Oooo yes!” Melissa squealed as she turned back, smiling, to take a drink, releasing my hand. I took a glass as well.
After the stewardess had moved on, we clinked. 
“Cheers,” Melissa giggled.
After a brief pause, and a sip, she continued. “But, really, what about you, Dr. J?” Melissa asked, as she pivoted a bit more at the waist towards me, “You seemed scared the other day, when she told you that you were 5'8”. How are you feeling?”
She really wanted to talk about this, huh? ”Oh, u-uh...heheh..” I began, “I don’t know about “scared…” My mouth suddenly dry, I took another swig. “I mean, nobody liked to be told they’re sh-shorter than they think they are…”
“Especially a guy, right?” she added earnestly, ”it must be sort of...emasculating.” She bit her lower lip, as if eager for my answer. 
“Well, I was never a big macho guy so…” My voice trailed off, as I looked at Melissa. I was able to keep eye contact, for a bit, but I was slowly being struck by, well, her size. The physicality of it. She was taller than me, probably stronger than me, just all-around bigger than me. And suddenly, in that moment, I was becoming overwhelmed by the feeling of being...lesser. 
I glanced down, at my drink, into my lap. 
"Hey, c’mon, you never know,” she said, easily reading my reaction, “there may be some positives! Even if you do get even smaller.” She leaned into me, playfully bumping me with her right shoulder, giggling. 
“Positives?” I asked.
"Yes!” she continued, eagerly, “You heard the sales lady the other day. Girls all want shorter boys. It’s true, totally. It’s fashionable to be with a smaller guy, to be seen as a couple like that. People love size in women these days…” Almost imperceptibly, Melissa straightened in her seat. “That’s why you see so many women in the gym, getting big, bulking up,” she explained, “They want their big butts, big backs and shoulders and arms. It’s all to make their man look small.” 
It’s funny. I had heard this, other places. Read about it. “a-and...you?” I asked, hating immediately the prurient interest in my voice, “y-you go to the gym a lot?”
At that she laughed, and turned to look out the window again. I watched as, through her tight, long sleeve tee, her back muscles bulged, swelling against her top. I took the second to appreciate her muscularity, the dramatic “V” of her torso, fit shoulders tapering down to tiny waist. As I watched, her lats flexed, bulging further. It was subtle but also dramatic, this display of their obvious strength, more bulk than you might immediately think, looking at her. She was by no means “thick”; the musculature looked absolutely feminine and alluring. But was she doing it on purpose? Showing off a little?
“I do go to the gym a lot,” she mused, turning back towards me, “I’m lucky, I get big quick.”
“Y-you do, huh?” I answered dumbly.
“Yeah, I do,” she continued, “It’s all genetics. My father was some sort of athlete, I guess. When I was modelling I had to be careful. I was told I could be a bodybuilder. But...” At that, for some reason, she stopped herself. Almost like she was about to say too much. “But now I don’t have to worry.”
Ashamed at myself, I wanted to hear more...even at the risk of sounding too engrossed. “Y-you like that look?” I asked, “Getting...bigger?”
“I dunno,” she replied with a disarming smile, casually shrugging, “But like I said, It’s totally in, that look, big girls. My gym is almost all women now, most are the same. You don’t see guys as much.”
“R-really?”
“MMhm,” she answered, sipping her champagne, “Know why? It’s the thing, little skinny guys. No one wants a meathead these days. So, look on the bright side:  if you’re smaller, three inches, you’re just getting cuter. More attractive.”
“Oh stop it I’m married,” I reminded her, feeling myself both blush and recoil. My skin crawled, thinking of Sheryl, of where things had gotten between us.
“Well, she may not say it but I’m sure Sheryl likes it,” Melissa countered, “When they go out with their guy every girl wants to look fashionable.”
What was she doing? Painting a picture for me where my wife and I strolled into a restaurant, Sheryl towering over me by six inches with a huge smile on her face? Melissa knew how chilly things were in my marriage. What was she saying?
“And, anyway…” she continued, “maybe you’d like it, too, if you were a little smaller. If it just means everything else, everyone else looks bigger...”
“Wh-what?”
“C’mon...” she said, as a subtle waft of her perfume found its way up into me. Her voice had dropped. I noticed now that we had leaned in already, closer to one another like conspirators, and this just drew me in closer. “I mean, there are more and more guys on the internet every day who are really into that sorta thing. Guys being smaller....smaller than their girlfriend, smaller than their wife. Smaller than women in general.” She took another sip of her drink, waited for me to follow and take a sip of mine. “Some guys want to be a lot smaller than women,” she continued, cryptically, “It’s crazy..."
She looked at me. Raised her eyebrows. Regarded me.
“R-really..?”
"Yeah…” she replied, “I get messages you wouldn't believe..."
================================
Agh, okay. Finally. Thanks again everyone for your patience. This one was hard fought, and I’m afraid through all this they’ll still be slow to come. But hope you all enjoy-
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joannie95 · 4 years
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Legacy - Part 38
Pairing: Carter!reader x ?????
Summary:  Everyone knows Peggy Carter is a force to be reckoned with, who could have guessed her granddaughter would hold the same ferocity, if not more.This story follows y/n Carter’s life as she faces the obstacles life pitches her.
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Swearing, mentioned death and Alzheimer. I have done as much research as I can on Alzheimer so I apologize if the information is incorrect 
A/N: Thank you to @mo320  for proofreading and helping with the ideas for this chapter and @welldonebeca for reviewing the story, thank you to @writeyourmindaway for making these awesome text dividers im so excited to use them all
A/N: I know Steve and Peggy first meeting isn't until winter soldier but I decided to push it up to match the story
A/N accidentally posted this as part 36 instead of 38. sorry for the confusion
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A week has passed since the attack in New York. You were able to fly your grandma back once you knew it was safe and you started to plan Phil's funeral. It took a lot out of you both physically and emotionally, when the day of the funeral finally arrived you woke up feeling numb to the world. When you lost Craig you went through so many emotions but now after losing Phil you didn't know how to feel. You just knew a part of you was missing. You and your grandma got ready for the long day ahead of you, you planned to meet up with the few people who were closest to Phil at the cemetery. In all, it was you, your grandmother, Darcy, Clint, Natasha, Maria, and Nick. You all walked to his gravesite together and planned to say your goodbyes. One by one, everyone spoke up and told stories about Phil: their first encounters together, their best memories, and how he made them a better person. When it was finally your turn, you had thought about what you wanted to say and what you wanted your last words to him to be, but decided it would be best to just say what Phil meant to you. 
"For as long as I can remember Phil Coulson has been my rock. He has always been there for me, to support me even with my most idiotic ideas. He wasn't afraid to tell me when I was being an idiot, but he was always one of the first to defend me when I was being told the same by someone else. He wasn't afraid to put his job on the line if it meant standing up for me and my insane ideas. I'm so grateful-." You stopped for a second when you felt tears running down your face but decided to continue. "I'm so grateful that I was able to have someone as amazing as him in my life but I'm even more grateful that he was like a father to me and that he saw me as his daughter." You looked down as his casket was being lowered. "I'll always love you dad." 
His casket was buried and you all said your final goodbye before parting ways,  leaving you to glance back at his gravestone with a sad smile on your face and fresh tears on your cheeks. Here lies Philip J. Coulson July 8, 1964 - May 4, 2012, The man with the plan. Beloved son, friend, and father.
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In the past year, you'd noticed your grandmother's mental and physical health deteriorating. While living together in London you were able to help her 24/7 but now that you were back in New York working at S.H.I.E.L.D that was no longer the case. After discussing it in length you both came to the agreement to move her into a retirement home. It wasn't the easiest decision, you felt ashamed that you couldn't care for her, but she reassured you that she understood.
You finished unpacking the last of her items into her new room when you decided to sit and talk for a while. 
"So talk to me dear, how are you feeling?"
"I'm okay I guess. Everything is finally starting to hit me. Phil's gone, Tony and I are surprisingly in a better place and Steve Rogers is back which is absolutely insane by the way." You placed a hand on top of hers. "He's really nice, all the stories are nothing compared to the real thing."
She smiled and noticed a slight twinkle in your eye, one she hadn't seen since you spoke about Craig. "I'm glad you like him, knowing him made me a better person and I hope he does the same for you." 
"I’m sure he'd love to be able to talk to you, I can ask him if you'd like."
"No that's alright dear, things are probably a little difficult for him at the moment. I'll give him some time and whenever he's ready to talk I'll be here." 
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A few weeks went by and everything seemed to go back to as normal as it could. You were working in your lab trying to modify one of Natasha's weapons when your AI notified you that someone was arriving. "Miss Carter, you have a visitor."
"Thank you Albert, let them in please." 
You looked and saw Steve walking through the door. "Oh, H-hi." You internally scold yourself when you hear the nerves in your voice.
"Hi." He looked at you sheepishly when he noticed the items on your table. "I'm sorry I hope I'm not interrupting." 
You gave him a kind smile. 
"You're not, I just thought I'd modify some weapons for agent Romanoff. Is there something you needed?" You tried keeping your voice steady. 
"Yes. Actually, I was hoping I could meet up with Peggy soon. I think I'm ready to see her again if that's alright with you." 
He seemed nervous asking, almost as if there was a chance you'd say no. 
"Of course that's alright, she's really excited to see you." 
"Really?" 
"Absolutely, she wanted to reach out but she thought it'd be best to wait until you were ready. Does this weekend work for you?"
"Yes, absolutely. Thank you." He looked down at his feet before speaking up again. "I should get going then, I'll see you around."
You spoke up before he had a chance to leave. 
"Steve, you should know she's not really herself."
He looked at you and waited for you to continue. You wring your hands together. 
"She has Alzheimer’s. Some days, she has moments when she'll forget where she is or even what day it is. I just don't want you to worry if it happens while you're there."
"Oh." He lowers his head and looks worried. "Ok, thank you for telling me." 
You write something on a slip of paper and hand it to him. 
"This is her address, I'll be there this weekend, so feel free to come by when you're ready." You hand him the paper, your hands slightly touch and you look at each other. You quickly pull back and clear your throat.
He takes the paper and puts it in his pocket. "Alright, so I'll see you around." He walks to the door and looks back and smiles before he walks out.
You lay your head on your hands and let out an exasperated breath. "What are you doing?" 
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The weekend came by quickly enough and you were waiting with your grandma for Steve to arrive. 
"Alright as soon as he gets here I'll head out and give you guys a couple of hours to catch up before coming back."
"Darling I've already told you, you don't have to leave. You can stay, it's alright."
"I know but I'd rather let you two be alone. There's probably a lot you two need to catch up on and I'll just be in the way." 
Before she could talk you out of it a nurse knocked on the door and entered the room. 
"I'm sorry to bother you both but there's someone at the front desk that's here to visit you." 
You thank the nurse as she leaves the room and you turn to your grandma. 
"That's him, I'll go get him." You walk up to the front desk and see Steve looking very nervous. "Hi, I'm glad you could make it. Are you alright?" 
He hesitated for a second. "I think so, just a little nervous." 
"That's alright but there's no need to worry, she's still the same person you remember." You gave him a reassuring smile. "Come on I'll show you to her room." You're about to open the door, you stop and turn to Steve. "Before we go in, if she does have any memory problems the best thing to do is just to go with it. Trust me I know instinct will tell you to correct her but it'll be better for her."
He swallows hard and nods. "Alright."
You quickly change your demeanor from serious to slightly more cheery. "Grandma you have a visitor." You walk in and see her lying in bed looking out her window. She turns and looks at you both with a smile on her face. You walk up to her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and kiss her cheek. "I'll head out now, call me if you need anything." You say goodbye to Steve and walk out.
Steve's pov 
I couldn't help but stare as she walked out of the room. I turned back and saw Peggy in front of me. I never imagined I would see her again, it almost feels like a dream and as soon as I wake up she'll be gone.
"Are you going to stand there all day?" 
I chuckled and sat down in a chair next to her bed. 
"This doesn't seem real. I'm still trying to convince myself it is." 
She grabbed ahold of my hand, looked into my eyes, and gave me a caring smile. "It is real. I've missed you so much Steve."
"I've missed you too Peggy. I'm sorry I didn't come by sooner, I guess I just needed to come to terms with everything." I look down, I feel ashamed for not coming by sooner.
"Please don't apologize, I can't imagine how you must have felt. Waking up and everything you've known is gone. You're allowed to process things in your own time." She places her hand on my cheek.
I try to change the subject before becoming too emotional. I look towards the pictures at her bedside. "You have a beautiful family Peggy." I grab a picture of Peggy with a man who I assume is her husband and a young boy who must be her son. 
She looks at him with a sad smile on her face. "Yes, I miss them dearly." 
I look up quickly. "I didn't know, I'm sorry I-." 
"It's quite alright Steve."
I set the picture down and look at one next to it. She answered my question before I even had a chance to ask.
"That's Y/N and her parents, I believe it was taken a few months before they passed." 
"What happened to them."
"That's not something I can tell you. Maybe one day you can ask Y/N and she'll be able to." 
I look at the last picture, it's one of Peggy and Y/N. They both look so happy. "She looks just like you." 
"The resemblance is uncanny isn't it. We've almost been inseparable ever since she was a baby." She looks so proud talking about her, like a parent bragging about their child's achievements. "After her parents passed we became closer than ever, we took care of each other. I saw myself in her more and more each day." She stops for a second. "I hope you know she is her own person though, she may have gotten my features and mannerisms but she's not me." 
I'm getting confused as to why she would say that. "I don't understand." 
She chuckles. "I'm no fool Steve, I saw the way you looked at her before she left. I understand that it could be easier for you to view her as something to help you hold on to the past but she isn't me. Maybe you could get to know her and understand she's her own person. You two have more in common than you think." She grabs his hand and looks into his eyes. "I want you to know that it's okay to move on. I had a wonderful life and I want the same for you." 
I look at the floor and smile. "Thank you. You should be proud of yourself Peggy."
"Mm. I have lived a life. My only regret is that you didn't get to live yours."
My smile falls. Even after all these years she cares about my life and happiness. 
"What is it?"
"For as long as I can remember I just wanted to do what was right. I guess I'm not quite sure what that is anymore. And I thought I could throw myself back in and follow orders, serve. It's just not the same."
She chuckles. "You're always so dramatic. Look, you saved the world. We rather...mucked it up."
"You didn't. Knowing that you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I'm choosing to stay."
She strokes my hand to get my attention. "Hey. The world has changed and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over." She starts to cough and tries to catch her breath.
I turn to get her some water, when I turn back she has a confused look on her face. 
"Peggy."
She suddenly looks at me like she's seeing me for the first time.
"Steve?"
"Yeah."
"You're alive! You...you came, you came back."
This must be what Y/N meant. Now all I can do is go along with it. "Yeah, Peggy." 
She starts to cry. "It's been so long. So long."
"Well, I couldn't leave my best girl. Not when she owes me a dance." I turned when I heard a knock on the door.
"Steve you can't be here if my landlady sees you she'll kick me out." She started to panic when she saw the door open.
Y/Ns pov
I was about to knock when I overheard the conversation coming from inside.
"You're alive! You...you came, you came back."
"Yeah, Peggy." 
"It's been so long. So long."
I tried to take a second to compose myself. As soon as I walk in there she won't recognize me, it's going to hurt but I need to go with it. I take a deep breath, knock on the door and walk-in. "Peg you know he can't be here. If Miriam sees him she'll kick you out just like she did with Molly for sneaking in her boyfriend." You close the door behind him and walk towards them. "Miriam is doing her rounds so he needs to go now. I'll go distract her, you two say goodbye then go." You look towards Steve and hope he understands what you're doing.
"Of course, thank you miss I really appreciate it." 
You smile at them and quickly walkout. Once you're in the hallway you notify a nurse of your grandmother's mental state at the moment. You wait for Steve and will yourself not to break down until you're home.
Legacy Tags:
@agentmarvel13​ @1v-kayla​ @5sos-wdw​ @a-dancing-hufflepuff @agent-barnes40​ @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff​ @annoylinglyaries @antclottz​ @avngrsinitiative​ @bradfordsgreekgod​ @babypink224221​ @captainam-erika-trash​ @carisi-sonny​​ @caseymcflurry​​ @chook007​​ @cosmiccomicloverqueen​​ @daniellajocelyn​​ @doctoranon​​ @ecamille-xo​​ @editsbyjenny @ellieababy​​ @eternaleviee @futuremissstark @geeksareunique​​ @gummiwormsandonedirection​​ @henrietteoaks​​ @hermionie-is-my-queen​​ @imahoeforbucky​​ @ineedmorefanfics​​ @isabella-bby​​ @jaemingold​​ @jamessbarnnes @junitorials13​​ @katykyll​​ @keenmarvellover​​ @klanceiscannon14​​ @lady-sigyn​​ @littlephoenix-fire​​ @lovemarvelousfics​​ @l0kisbitch​​ @luckyfiction17​​ @ludwigvonbaethoven @maddie-laufeyson​​ @magnificentsoulecollector​​ @mikariell95​​ @mistressoftorture​​  @moli1497 @nanajaeminniee @orderoftheflamingflamingos​​ @oxodianaoxo​​ @paintballkid711​​ @pastelpurplexoox​​ @peteyparkersbabyy @princessizzy36​​ @shallowshawn @sillydecoy @spodermanpete​​ @starstruckgardenstudentzonk​​ @stuckyandsciencebros @superhero2552​​ @thatharrypotterfan13 @thatweirdchick147​​ @the-ducks-umbrella​​ @tienna-laufeyson16 @trustme3-13​​ @wishiwasanavenger​​ @xalinx​​ @yougottalovefandoms​​ @zaza-jones​​ @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash​​
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btsfan15 · 3 years
Text
Interview
Interviewer: I am here with the biggest K-Pop boy band in the world, BTS! And with their friend, Navya!
*everyone claps*
Interviewer: Thank you guys so much for coming.
RM: Of course.
Interviewer: Have a seat.
*everyone sits on the couch*
Me: Oh, there’s no more space for Jin.
Jin: Oh, that’s okay. I’ll just squeeze next to Navya.
*sits down next to me*
*everyone laughs*
Interviewer: Welcome, guys. So, what’s it like being popular all over the world with thousands of fans?
RM: It’s really amazing. ARMY is so nice and sweet to us and they’re always supporting us.
V: We want ARMY to be happy through our music, and we will be there for you, with love.
Interviewer: ARMY is very lucky to have you guys. You make such amazing music. There’s so much positivity that you guys and ARMY bring to the world. Why is this message important to you?
Jin: It’s all because of ARMYs. They always give us positive energies. 
Jungkook: ARMY! Thank you for all the love. We can’t wait to surprise ARMY with a great show and let’s get it!
Interviewer: How do you feel being on stage and performing at the AMA’s?
RM: Everything is surreal. *laughs*
Interviewer: The AMA's is well known as the most American and as one of the major awards along with Grammys and the Billboard. A singer having the presence and the invitation to perform at the AMA must be meaningful. I am sure there’s something more to it than “feeling unreal.” What else can you share with us?
J-Hope: I’ve grown up watching the AMA's on television. To be able to perform at the AMA's, especially in front of all our fans here, it definitely was an unbelievable experience. It was a great honor to be here and it’ll be great to have another chance to perform here at the AMA's, in front of our fans. I’d like to thank our fans again for their continuous love and support.
RM: As you mentioned, AMA's is the most American, yet one of the major awards. I also agree that AMA has a great reputation. We definitely felt throughout the process that AMA has put a great thought and consideration in inviting us to perform on stage, not just introducing as "some strange kids from Asia". AMA made us feel like we were part of the award ceremony in many ways, such as having the The Chainsmokers introduce us and in terms of the order of performances. We were the 16th out of the 17 performers, performing right before Diana Ross, who won AMA’s Lifetime Achievement Award. Many details that were prepared by the AMA's made us feel welcomed and we really felt that they prepared a lot for us, taking the time in getting to know us, as well as showing respect to us as artists.
Interviewer: Starting with the Billboard Award in May and now your presence at the AMA's show that BTS suddenly is on a continuous rise. How do you feel?
Jin: We only got our first big win at the Mnet Asian Music Award in Korea last year. We all hugged and cried. I still cannot believe one year has not yet passed since that day. Over the year, we won a Billboard award and performed on the AMA stage. We debuted four years ago, but so much has happened during these years. Events like winning the Billboard award and performing at the AMA's happened so fast.
RM: Twitter is our main social media platform and it is very easy for us to use. We had five million followers six months ago, but now we have over ten million followers. (BTS has around ten point three million followers, which is the greatest number of followers in Twitter's Korea accounts). We have used social media for five years, and suddenly the followers doubled within the span of less than six months. Also, the 'Billboard Hot 100 chart' is the chart that every artists in the world dreams of entering. (BTS's song DNA, released in September as title track of the new album, entered the chart on no. 85. It is the second time a Korean song entered the chart after Psy's Gangnam Style). To be able to debut on the AMA's is an honor that is totally surreal and all of this is 100% due to our fans who made it possible. We have never seen a such fandom before. *laughs* 
Interviewer: BTS has a lot of characteristics. One of them is that you pick a topic and create a series off of the topic such as 'School Trilogy' or the 'Youth Series'. In the process, the growing story of each BTS member becomes the core content. This correlates into the meaning that BTS's own growth is equivalent to BTS's musical content. Do you think that these stories matches the ones of your real life? And if yes, how much do they match up with your real life?
Suga: I cannot say that our lyrics are 100% based on our experiences. But our experiences are very well-embedded in the songs. We try to tell our generation's story through our songs.
RM: Our debut song was 'No More Dream'. If you listen that song, you realize the lyric "Hey, what is your dream?" keeps repeating through-out the song. At that time, my friends were about twenty years old and most of my friends were ones with no dreams. I was very angry and frustrated to see these friends because I just could not understand why they didn’t have any dreams. I tried to convey my emotion through the lyrics. In that way, our lyrics tell the life story of teenagers and now my peers. It makes them easy to listen and relate to. The song 'Danger' also expresses such hardships. However, when we released song 'I Need You', we got so many new fans. It seems they understood title of the song. *laughs*
Interviewer: Some people said that using social media is one of the reasons why you have succeeded. I wonder, what was your plan when you started making video content like the Bangtan Bombs?
Jin: With the Bangtan Bombs we take videos of our lives and upload them without any editing. When we shoot the videos, we try to do funny things. But we don't edit anything. Uploading videos weekly is really hard to do, so we try to keep the videos simple. But it seems that our fans really enjoy these uploads from our everyday life.
Suga: In the past, I did not like social media very much. When I started doing social media, I was afraid of the risks. But in doing it, I think that the most important thing is to show my natural self to the fans. Cool, cute and handsome looks can be seen on TV or other media, but the fans are curious about the rest. The Bangtan Bombs are closely related to our daily life and shows what's happening behind the surface. We really have befriended social media. We don't look at it like work at all. We just upload whenever we want. And the upload cycle is fast. Maybe this is why fans like our social media accounts.
Jimin: Fans say that we use social media a lot, but in fact, since we all use one account it seems like we use it more often. *laughs* This is one of the advantages of using one account all together.
Suga: If we use one account, we can be seen as a team so many more times over.
RM: These days, all of us do social media a lot. I think it is natural for us to do it, not as work but because we want to upload for our fans.
V: We have uploaded over one million posts on Twitter since our debut. So far, we have released over one hundred songs. Sometimes I look at our songs and melodies and feel regretful and ashamed. But at the time we did them, I sang them sincerely so I hope it was good enough.
Interviewer: Navya, do you have any social media?
Me: Yes, I do. I have Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, Pinterest, Tumblr, etc. I have a lot of social media. I have so many people following me on Instagram. Whenever I post a photo of me or with the other members, I get so many comments. *laughs* 
Interviewer: *laughs* Really? What kind of comments?
Me: I get so many saying “So pretty!” or “Love you!” or just emojis. *laughs*
Interviewer: What’s the most common comment you get?
Me: Um...it’s probably “You are so lucky!” or “I wish I was with them!” or “I wanna take a selfie with BTS!” *laughs*
*everyone laughs*
Interviewer: Wow, I guess you are really lucky to be living with BTS! All those fans out there are jealous of you!
Me: I guess I’m lucky, aren’t I? I’m famous all over the world! *laughs*
Interviewer: Yes, you are. So, what are the goals of each member?
Jin: I want to be happy. I do not have a huge life goal. I just wish that I can laugh and have a happy life like I do now.
Me: I want to make everyone happy. I want to laugh and have fun with everyone.
Jimin: I want to do well at what I am doing right now. I want to hear the fans say "you are doing well". My wish is that when I've grown up and look back at myself, I will be able to think I was really cool back then.
J-Hope: I want to release my mixtape. I'm ready now. I want to release it as soon as possible. It's not just a short mixtape, but on the level of a full album. After seeing RM and Suga release their mixtapes, I felt that I really wanted to make music with my own colors. I also want to study languages so that I can communicate with American and other foreign fans.
Jungkook: I want to do many things during this and next year. I want to write songs, improve my dancing and speak foreign languages well. The goal is not to be lazy, but to become a practitioner.
V: I want to add various charms and improve in more fields as an actor. I want to continue to study photography and take better pictures. As a singer, I want to become a more wonderful person as a member of BTS. I want to be someone that is doing a lot in many fields.
Suga: The final goal is that when the day comes for me to quit doing music, I want to leave when people still applaud. But I really hope that the departure will happen gradually. I've been playing music for quite some time now, but I hope I will get to do it far longer than the time I've been doing it so far. I do not know if it will be possible in reality, but I think that I want to leave music at a time when I'm still on top.
RM: Loving myself is my dream, but I don't know if I will achieve it before I die. *laughs*
Interviewer: Those are some good goals. Now I want to know: Do you guys date?
RM: We just wanna focus on our careers right now. We don’t usually have time to find that special someone. *laughs*
Me: I’ve always wondered what it’s like to date because when I was growing up, I wasn’t allowed to date. I would *laughs* always see everyone holding hands at school and I would get jealous, to be honest. *laughs* 
Interviewer: Well, you have multiple choices right here in this room, so take your pick! *laughs*
*everyone laughs*
Me: I don’t know about that. Everyone is busy with everything, so I’m gonna wait for sometime. I don’t want to stress anyone out.
Interviewer: Yeah, being an idol is hard. Okay, my next question is what’s your ideal type of girl or guy?
RM: A sexy girl who can converse with me for a long time with a nice voice, is appropriately tall, has pale skin, feminine Girl, looks good in a white T-shirt + Jeans + Red Converse High. Someone sexy, even to a brain. Someone that are thoughtful and confident.
Jin: Someone who's fun to be around. A soft-hearted girl who'd wear elegant make-up. A girl whose looks and personality is similar to that of a puppy, whose good at cooking, kind and takes good care of me. I want her to laugh at my jokes and play Mario games with me.
*everyone laughs*
Suga: A girl who has a peaceful manner, but also has a great sense of humor. I don’t laugh very much, so I think that she can make me laugh on a regular basis is very appealing to me.
J-Hope: I like a girl that wears feminine clothes but not too fancy because I think  most important thing is to wear clothes that suit your body. I like girls that are interested in books, good at not only taking care of me but also others, besides I would like to have a girl that is very supportive of me.
Jimin: I want a girl who truly loves me and gives me all the love I want. She has to be smaller than me and is caring, cute, loves sharing, and has a big heart. She has to love to cuddle, too.
V: I want a girlfriend who’s kind and compassionate. I want her to be healthy mentally. Even better if she talks nicely too. It doesn’t matter if she’s not beautiful. But everyone says let’s wait and see how my future girlfriend looks like, I’m curious too.
Jungkook: I like a girl who’s intelligent, talented, and competitive. I want her to be older than me and I want her to be a gamer girl to impress me with her talents and not be afraid to show off her strong points.
Me: I like a guy who’s sweet to my friends and gives me lots of love and cuddles. I want him to teach me how to cook something cause I don’t know how to cook a proper meal. *laughs* I want him to play Mario video games with me and make jokes to make me laugh. He has to be cute and handsome, too. 
Interviewer: Hey, that sounds like Jin! Looks like we got a match, everyone! 
*everyone laughs*
Me: I don’t think we’re ready for that yet.
Interviewer: Do the members always tease you?
Me: Oh my god, yes they do! Especially about Jin. Whenever Jin and I are together, they say stuff like “You both look like a couple’ or “You two should date since you both hang out so much.” 
Jin: Even for me, too! I always get mad at them and have to scold them!
RM: It’s true. He actually gets mad at us.
Suga: Jin always talks fast whenever he’s mad at us about something.
Me: Yeah, that happens a lot. I always crack up laughing. We all do, in fact.
Interviewer: Really? It must be very embarrassing. 
Me: Yes, it is very embarrassing. Every time they do something like this, me and Jin are like “When are they gonna stop doing this” or “How long are they gonna keep this up?”
Jin: But they keep on assuming these things about us, but we just go with it.
Interviewer: My next question for you guys is what are your favorite songs?
RM: My favorite songs are ‘Panini’ by Lil Nas X and ‘Super Rich Kids’ by Frank Ocean.
Jin: Mine is ‘Senorita’ by Camila Cabello and Shawn Mendes and the remix of “Despacito” performed by Luis Fonsi, Justin Bieber, and Daddy Yankee.
Suga: ‘Loco’ by Mustard and ‘Summer Story’ by DJ Doc.
J-Hope: I like ‘The Big Day’ by Chance The Rapper and ‘Beauty and a Beat’ by Justin Bieber and Nicki Minaj.
Jimin: My favorites are ‘Goodbye Days’ by Yui and ‘Love Song’ by Sara Bareilles.
V: My favorite songs are ‘Floor Seats’ by A$AP Ferg and ‘Blue Room’ by Chet Baker.
Jungkook: I really love one of our songs, ‘Mikrokosmos’ and I also love ‘Just Hold On’ by Steve Aoki with Louis Tomlinson.
Me: I love ‘Handclap’ by Fitz and the Tantrums and ‘War of Hormone’ by BTS. 
Interviewer: All great songs. I have another question for you guys: Have their been any embarrassing moments before?
RM: Um, I think there’s one between Navya and Jin.
Interviewer: Oh really? Can we hear about it?
Jin: Um, it’s kind of embarrassing, but I’ll tell it. So, one day, me and Suga’s dorm door wasn’t working. If we closed it, then we couldn’t get in. The person on the outside has to open it. Anyway, we both didn’t know what to do, so Suga went to call the other members to see if they could fix it. I waited in the dorm for him, but it took a while, so I called Navya to see if she could fix it. She came over and I told her what the problem was. She came in the room and guess what happened? Navya locked the door.
Interviewer: Oh no! Then what happened?
Me: I didn’t know the door would get locked. We both tried to pull the door open, but it wouldn’t open. So, we were both stuck in there for a while. Who knows how long. *laughs*
Interviewer: What did you guys do in there?
Me: We just talked and laughed. I mean, we WERE in a bedroom, so I don’t really know what happened...*smiles*
*everyone looks at me*
Me: I’m just joking. All we did was talk and laugh. Jin told me a lot of jokes. I cracked up so hard.
Jin: Yeah, I did. I have so many in mind right now.
Me: I laughed so hard that my stomach was hurting. I almost died.
*everyone laughs*
Interviewer: That does sound fun. How did you both get out?
Jin: Suga got us out. He found the members and brought them to our dorm room. Me and Navya were both relived that we got out. 
Me: The funny part was that Suga was so confused about what happened. *laughs* We both laughed and explained what happened. 
Jin: We were still laughing after that. *laughs* We also told the other members what happened.
Interviewer: Well, that was an amazing story! Did the door get fixed?
Suga: Yes, it did. It won’t lock again from the inside. I think Navya’s gonna be careful next time. *laughs*
Me: I sure will. I probably should ask one of you if I can close the door. *laughs*
Interviewer: That was an amazing story, but I thought it was an embarrassing story.
Jin: After we got the door fixed, the embarrassing things started happening. At dinner that same day, the guys kept on nagging me and Navya about what happened. They kept on asking what we did in the room while it was locked.
Me: Jin and I were so embarrassed. We both said that we both talked and laughed, but they kept on suspecting that something else happened.
Jin: Now, that I think about, I think there was something else. I can’t remember.
Me: Me neither. *remembers* Oh, I remember what it was! 
RM: What?
Me: Jin and I both fell asleep on the bed. 
Everyone: Ohhhhh!
Jin: Oh yeah, now I remember. 
Interviewer: How did you both fall asleep?
Me: I guess we were both laughing so much that we were both tired and fell asleep. 
Jimin: I knew there was something else!
V: We keep on saying it, but they just won’t admit it.
Jungkook: Admit what?
J-Hope: That they make a perfect match. 
Suga: They would make a perfect couple. Just imagine.
Jin: *embarrassed and blushing* Ah, Yoongi...
Me: *embarrassed* I seriously don’t even know how long this is gonna go.
RM: Jin’s embarrassed! His face, neck, and ears are red!
Jungkook: They are!
*members start teasing Jin by poking him*
Me: *giggles* Okay, guys. Stop teasing Jin. 
Interviewer: *laughs* Well, it might happen in the future. Who knows? Well, thank you guys for taking the time to chat with us today! I had an awesome time!
RM: Thank you! For having us! We all had a great time! 
Interviewer: *looks at the camera* ARMY, know that BTS is there for you whenever you need it and stay tuned for more awesome music!
Us: Bye! 
Me: Saranghae! Annyeong! 
Jimin: We love, ARMY!
Jin: Since I can’t blow a kiss for you in person, I’ll just do it to the camera. *blows a flying kiss to the camera*
*everyone laughs*
I hope you guys enjoyed the story! 
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kirschkid · 4 years
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Filling the holes (1)
Cas in the empty
Characters: Cas, The Empty, Michael, Death (not really...), God
Words: 1,576
A/N: I want to fill some holes. Let’s start with Cas! Besides: First FF in english ever!
For a second, it was cold, like when you go outside the house on a winter night, and the freezing air enters your face first. Then, there was nothing. 
Cas felt the last tear running from his face, down his cheek. 
He did it.
He took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts when he heard laughter. As he turned around, trying to pinpoint the direction, the Empty appeared just a few meters away from him. But she was not alone. While sitting on her throne, in form of Meg, grinning in triumph, Death was standing right in front of her: Swathed in black, flickering vines.  
"Today is my lucky day! Not only one, but two treats for me." 
The Empty looked at Cas while her smile seemed to become bigger and bigger. "What a heartwarming performance, Castiel. This really was the sweetest death of all. So happy you got me a present. Do me a favor, be a good little angel, and wait a minute." Looking at Death again, she added, "It will only talk me a second."  
Castiel opened his mouth, but before his lips could form an answer, he felt a strong force pulling him back. He flew backward before gravity hit, forcing him to lie on the ground. 
"He is alive," was the first thing that pooped into his head. Death being here in the empty meant, he really had accomplished the one thing, the angel had wanted all this time: Dean being safe. 
As he sat up, Castiel looked confused. The Empty and Death were nowhere to find. He was alone. Normally Castiel would stand up, walk around, try to find a way out, another person to talk to, or search for the Empty. But not this time. There was no way out, this time was just the end.
He felt at peace with it but was hurting too. All things must come to an end. He has had so many chances, so many reruns, he should have felt good. But the very human emotion of missing another person lay over his heart, making it difficult to breathe.
That's it. 
Castiel wasn't sure for how long he was sitting there, thinking about the last hours, trying not to worry about Chuck being still out there. Then he wondered Why he even was awake. The angel didn't know that Jack's explosion had caused the whole empty to awaken. So he figured it was the Empty, keeping him up for fun or torture.
Suddenly Castiel felt chills like someone was watching him.
"Death promised me to sleep again, but her whole plan made it worst." The Empty appeared in front of the angel, covered in blood. "I can barely hold it together. And since I couldn't vent on sweet little Jack, you will do for now!"
What the Empty hated most about Castiel was simultaneously something she envied. He was this little, always confident, being. The one who escaped. The one who got to wake up and leave. 
"Here are a lot of family members awake, Castiel. Some of them would love to have a chat with you. Remember the time you were God? Or the time when you decided it's a good idea to kill angels? But don't you worry, I want you all for myself!"
"Awake? Where are they?"
"I knew you would ask. But don't bother, every single angel, demon, and creation in between, talking and thinking, is getting to me for quite some time now, but I have them separated. Don't wanna start a revolution, right Cas?" She was grinning. "It's like tinnitus. I hate it!"
Castiel still tried to process all the information he had been given when the Empty came closer, standing right in front of him. Her eyes seemed cold and mad. "Before we come to the fun part, tell me what is going on out there? Is God still droll old Chuck?"
There was no point in hiding information. And it felt like it would help to give some closure to talk about it. So Castiel told the Empty about what had happened. Then he asked about Death but got no answer to that. 
"So, Chuck is pissed, and now a whole lot of people are disappearing?" The Empty sounded annoyed. "Why is everything about these two silly apes? This crush god has on them is getting out of hand. I guess you thought you could save Dean for good by sacrificing yourself, right? But let me tell you something, little angel, there is no tomorrow, so why bother?" 
Castiel looked offended. "They will find a way! They always do." His hope was strong. 
"Yeah yeah, whatever,” the Empty replied. "All things considered I need to prepare myself for what's to come. So my sweet revenge on you has to wait. You will wait here, and when I come back, you will suffer in all ways possible!" The next moment the Empty was gone, and again the angel was alone. Sitting in the dark. With a smile. 
He was safe. 
Dark, cold, and silent. Castiel didn't know how much time had passed when he suddenly heard a noise. It came from the right. Or was it the left? He wasn't sure. 
"Well, look at that!" Castiel knew that voice. He finally stood up, looked for the person, and finally saw him standing a few shadows away from him. "Micheal." Castiel was skeptical. Everyone here was alone that's what the Empty had told him.   
"Castiel, I figured you would be here too after literally everybody is gone. So, this time for good, I guess?" He seemed depressed, no wonder after he just got killed by his own father, trying to be the good boy one last time. He was ashamed. 
"Why is it that you are here with me? The Empty told me that everybody here is awake but alone." Castiel was still unsure what to make out of this situation. But the archangel didn't really care about this. "No idea what you are talking about. Maybe the Empty is too caught up in reasoning with dad. It allowed Lucifer to leave with another reaper, so dad could get his hands on his death book. I didn't like that very much. I still don't get why he would choose him over me. I could have helped!" Michael sighed. "I will never get the old man."
"Chuck loves playing with his toys. You should know by now, that you are just a joy as well. We all are. Tell me, what about Sam and Dean? Is Jack ok?" Castiel sounded rough like he always did but Micheal could hear that he was worried. He had learned a lot about human behavior through Adam. "Last time I saw them, their plan to hurt our father had failed. I guess whatever end dad wants, he will get it quickly. Why do you care so much, Castiel?" The archangel looked at this brother in surprise. "When you showed me what dad did all these years, I could,” he hesitated, “ feel your passion about Dean. All the things you have done to protect him. For what? You are an angel, he is just a human, why-" Castiel interrupted him before he could finish the question. "Do you feel nothing when you think about Adam? He was human too, you know. I have nothing to say to you about this topic. I did what I had to do. And I have faith that all of it will end well."
"Good for you!" The Empty suddenly appeared next to Michael, who looked at her and stepped backward. "Not sure how you managed to get here, but this is not your story anymore, so please, do me a favor and rot over there!" The next moment Michael was gone. Then her focus went to Castiel. "Looks like the old god isn't so bad after all. Once he is finished with the Winchesters, I will go back to sleep. Until then, let's have some fun!" The Empty started grinning while Castiel felt a deep pain in his chest. He started to stumble, gasping for air. "Ah, I've waited all this time just to see you hurt, I don't even know where to start! I could make you choke for eternity or rip you apart forever. Any suggestions?" 
Castiel tried to answer, but the pain was too intense. 
"Yeah, I know. Everything is good as long as it hurts!" And the Empty took all the time she needed. After nearly endless torture, she loosened her grip and Castiel fell to the ground. Blood was running out of his nose and eyes. His breath was trembling but he smiled. There was nothing to worry about. No matter what would happen to him, he knew, deep down everything that really mattered would play out just fine. Because Dean, Sam, and Jack were still out there. He just knew. Relieved that the pain had stopped, he closed his eyes and heard the Empty mumble, "What?" 
Pulling his head up as quickly as possible to look at what was happening, everything around him just went from black to white. Castiel narrowed his eyes to a slit, trying to see, but it took him a few seconds to adjust. Although he had never lost his faith, he was still surprised when he suddenly heard something: "Hello Cas." Someone was standing right in front of him. "J-jack." Castiel felt relief, wonder, and joy all at once.
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wolfpawn · 5 years
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Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 9
Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.
Chapter Summary -   The morning after the night before, unfortunately, things do not thaw between Loki and Ella.
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Ella lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The palace was in silence, but her mind was screaming.
“Do Aesir not sleep?” Loki groaned tiredly.
“We do, yes.”
“Yet it eludes you?”
“Can I return to my rooms, please?”
Loki groaned a yes, moaning something about being on time for breakfast and turned over and went back to sleep as Ella removed herself from the bed and put on her nightdress before rushing from the room. Her room had only been a few doors away so she returned there, grateful that the maids had been so busy dealing with the hoards of guests that they had not had time to clean her room. Curling up in her pelts, and all too aware of the odd sensation between her legs from the seed of her husband, she tried to settle and find some sleep.
*
The next morning, she rose and went to Loki's room, knowing they would be expected to turn up to breakfast together and because her clothes were now there. When she entered, she heard him talking to someone.
"It's no different really. Warmer, obviously. But the same in every other aspect." Loki sounded bored. "I was startled to see no discernible differences between them and us. They seem to have hair there, that was peculiar."
"So, did she note any lack of ability on your behalf?" Helbindi sniggered.
"Well I tended to her needs. Norns, ‘Bind, she really was pure. She knew nothing and it was like laying with a corpse." There was more laughing. "No, really, she just lay there, she did not participate in any manner, she did not even make a sound."
"That is peculiar. Are you sure you tended to her?"
"Yes, their bodies react as ours do, only she stayed quiet."
"Odd. And now you don't even get to have fun with a partner who actually knows something either." Helbindi teased. "Though, if she sleeps elsewhere, you could always smuggle someone in, like an actual corpse."
"It would be more animated and stimulating,” Loki retorted.
Feeling ashamed and embarrassed, Ella turned and left the room, not noticing that her husband and his brother had never even noticed her.
She used her seidr to make a copy of herself and sent it to breakfast whilst she hid in her room, curled up in bed.
Loki did not notice any difference as she never spoke in his presence much anyway. He looked at her from time to time, wondering if she ever even thought of anything as she sat there while they ate.
When it came time to bid the Aesir royal family goodbye, she swapped herself back with her clone and stood beside Loki as they bid farewell. Her face was once more to her stoic expression, knowing that if she were to let it fall in the slightest, it would crumble spectacularly and she would weep to go home to Asgard with her family and not have them leave her here with her deplorable husband who ridiculed her for her honour.
"Marriage is not easy," Her mother stated as stood across from her daughter before she left. "But it gets easier as you get to know one another more."
"Can I visit sometime?"
Frigga pursed her lips slightly. "When your first little one is old enough to travel and deal with the different climate, you will visit then."
Ella swallowed and forced her tears to remain unshed. She nodded slightly but said nothing in return to her mother.
Loki watched silently, his analysis of the Aesir being heartless only solidified further. He knew she was pleading to get back to Asgard, if only for a small reprieve. He knew she was trying to hold onto some modicum of hope that she would get back soon to all she knew and her mother told her not to expect to do so in at least a few years. The least the woman could do is say ‘of course’, and not put a date on it so she would have hope.
With more sterile goodbyes, the Aesir called upon the Bifrost and were gone.
Ella looked at the site where they had been when it was called. The ice had melted in the shape of the Bifrost and she knew at that moment, her father was giving instructions to Heimdall with regards to her but she would wager nothing to do with letting her home. Sadly, she turned and walked towards the Jotunn palace once more, knowing she was being looked at by those around her but not caring too greatly.
“It may seem daunting and indeed, for a time you may feel lost, but you will settle and find a life for yourself here.” She turned to see Laufey beside her.
Looking up, Ella was grateful her husband was only half Jotnar and his height, though taller than her, was not near as vastly different to her own. “I will,” She agreed. “I simply never have been this far away from everything I knew before. If I ever left the palace, my mother or indeed my father and brother were with me. Now I think I am the only Aesir on Jotunheim.”
Laufey thought for a moment. “I believe you to be. Any other that is here is not here with my knowing or consent. The only grace I can give you, Little One, is that you are not the only half Vanir here.”
She nodded slightly, knowing that he referenced Loki, somehow, she doubted he cared much for their shared heritage. “Is the Casket doing as required?”
Laufey smiled. “It will not be instantaneous, but I have seen it myself this morning, it is beginning to spread its power over Jotunheim once more.”
“Good. Before long, we shall see the benefits of its return and Jotunheim will flourish once more.”
Seeing her care for his realm and seeing his son walk over to them, Laufey gave her a warm smile.
“Father, you need to rest,” Loki urged worriedly. “Please, this has been a long few weeks for you.”
“I am the parent.”
“Yes, that is why I care so greatly.”
“Most men would want their father gone to take their position.” Laufey chuckled.
“Then they must not love their father.” Loki retorted. “Please Father, the realm can wait another day.”
“Very well. I will do so and you will walk your wife inside,” Laufey conceded, his weariness becoming too much for him. “Princess, we will talk more soon.”
“Thank you for your kind words, My King.” She curtsied slightly.
With another smile, Laufey began to take longer strides once more before making his way to the palace in front of them.
Knowing that not all would be welcoming to the foreign woman he was now bound to and to allow something to happen her mere moments after the Aesir royal family left would be a reason for war in the Allfather’s eyes, Loki remained by his wife’s side. “Is it odd?”
“What?”
“Calling my father your king? As you have grown up with knowing another as your king.”
“I never referred to my father as such, to me, he was always simply my father. But Laufey is my king now. I am a subject of his realm, I am of his house and I will ensure to show him the respect of that title in every manner I am capable of.”
Loki looked at her because of her statement. “Good.” He looked to the side for a moment. “Will I have your things brought to your rooms again?”
“Please.”
“It is frowned upon to not share quarters with ones mate here.”
Ella thought over the morning’s conversation she had been privy to once more. “It is difficult for us to share quarters when we are so different in temperature. This will ensure both of us adequate rest.” Loki did not argue her logic, both because of its validity and because he did not wish to share his room with her. “Can I ask, what is the process for choosing my Ladies here?”
“Ladies?”
“Ladies-in-waiting. My personal assistants, ladies that wait on me.”
“Maids then?”
“No, they would be born to higher houses too.”
Loki scoffed. “There is no such role here and no one would agree to such if there were. Are you that conceited that you need to show your standing even amongst those deemed your closest in society? Do you feel the need to remind everyone just who you are that much?”
Ella felt a horrific pang in her stomach at the sheer vitriol of his words. She never felt so hurt in her life. She said nothing the entire way back to the palace. When she got there, she rushed off to her rooms immediately without even looking behind her. Barely whispering ‘excuse me’ to her husband as she did.
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ohdeputy · 5 years
Text
100 Letters PART II
Arthur Morgan x John Marston
Words: 5,569
Read on Archive
Part I
-
To Arthur,
I hope this finds you. I hope you’re well. I must say I’m not very good at this writing letters thing, not like how you are. I honestly don’t know how you do it. God knows I would rather be the one receiving the letters you write instead. But I promised you I would, so I will.
-  J
Arthur,
I realized I barely wrote anything last time. I apologize again for making you suffer through these. But hey, you asked for it. It’s barely been a month and I am already longing to return. It’s hard being by myself, I haven’t been on my own in a long time. It’s hard not having you around. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I miss you. I hope you feel the same, or maybe I don’t. It’s not a terribly nice feeling.
-  J
Arthur,
I must admit, it’s hard to send these letters without getting any in return. I wish you could write me back. I wish I could tell you where I am, and what I’ve been doing. It’s not exciting or anything but I just don’t know what to write to you. I would love to hear how you’ve been spending your days. Probably still getting up to no good I bet. Though, I hope you haven’t found a new partner in crime.  
Do you remember that time we put poison ivy in Uncle’s sheets? I don’t know how you convinced me to go along with it. He never deserved what we put him through. And I don’t know what we were thinking, the man didn’t shut up about his damn ‘itchy crotch’ for days. As thick as mud he is, too, for never catching on. Even when you made it so obvious with your damn snickering. You are such a bad influence. Sure am missing those days like hell, though.
-  J
Arthur,
It’s way hotter where I am, I think you’d like it here. Warm weather did always agree with you. I can’t complain too much, it’s a lot better than any harsh winter from up north. The only thing that makes me want to come back to any colder weather is you.
How is everyone? I know you can respond, but I think of them too. It’s just strange not having people around, I suppose. I hope you haven’t died from Pearson’s cooking. How is Nico? I miss her a lot too, you two are the only people I have ever really considered as friends. You better not be bothering her with any of your silly ideas. She’ll kill you if you’re not careful, and I’d rather not return to clean up that mess.
Nevertheless, I can’t wait to come back and see you both again.
Thinking of you often.
-  J
Arthur,
I can’t tell if the nights are getting better or worse. It feels like it’s been so much longer than it has been. Sometimes when I can’t sleep I imagine you can’t either. And that when I look up to the stars you’re seeing them too. Then I feel like you aren’t as far away anymore.
Counting the days,
-  J
Arthur,
I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I like your eyes. They’re probably the prettiest type of blue I’ve ever seen, but they’re also the kindest. I remember the first day I met you so clearly. You were the only person to look past me as some scrawny, worthless kid or an opportunity because I was decent at pickpocketing folk. You saw me as a friend, and when you held out your hand to introduce yourself I didn’t expect you to change my life like you did.
John set his pen down, contemplating on where the letter he currently wrote was going. Writing to Arthur had become easy, almost like he was having a conversation with him. Perhaps John had become too comfortable. Bold in what he wrote to him because there were no instant repercussions to what he said in the letters.
He could say anything. The thought scared him a little.
John took his time to finish the letter, knowing it was the last letter he would send before returning home. A new sense of alleviation consumed him, excited at the prospect of going home finally being a reality. He could not help the slight eagerness to hear Arthur’s thoughts on the letters he wrote to him each day.
The feeling continued after he packed the few belongings he had and said his goodbyes to the people he came to be acquainted with over the past year. John could hardly believe it had been so long. A part of him was strangely sorry to leave behind the routine he’d grown so accustomed to. Working at the Blackwater stables had been an easy way of life. The people, though poor, were generous and not unkind to him. He was a little sad to part ways.
Saddled up and ready to go, he waved his goodbyes to the sable workers and hit the road by high noon. Gradually, the desert terrain turned greener and the breeze cooler. The flat and endless landscape grew more mountainous as he made his way further northwest.
Stopping for only two nights, John was restless to get back. He knew the gang to have travelled more west since he was with them last. Not surprised when the camp he found them at wasn’t the same as the last time he was here, but when his eyes frantically scanned the site it was not to scope out their current home.
It wasn’t until he spotted what he was looking for when John breathed out, relief flooding through his body. Perhaps not exactly what, but who. Arthur was at the far end of camp, positioned leisurely against one of the tent’s structures. He was in conversation with Nico, cigarette in hand as he gestured while he spoke to her.
As if he felt John’s gaze on him, he looked up. When their eyes met, John smiled for the first time in what felt like ages. Arthur straightened up instantly, eyes wide like he was staring at a ghost. For a split second, John thought Arthur might run to him, but then he saw his shoulders fall. The corners of his mouth pulled ever so slightly downward and those eyes he had waited so long to see again dropped from his.
Without warning, John felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Startled, he looked up to see Dutch. “Hello, son.” His tone was stern, though his expression was what gave John a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He stole a final glance at Arthur in time to see him take one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it aside in a way that John swore almost looked bitter. But before he could process anything he’d just witnessed, Dutch began steering him in the opposite direction.
Once the two were off to the side and out of earshot he turned to face Dutch again. There was an uneasiness in the air between them as Dutch stood with his hands on his hips, avoiding directly looking at John.
“It’s, um... good to see you Dutch. It’s good to be back.” John meant it. It had been so long since he saw any of them. Hosea… Arthur. Hell, even Uncle was a sight for sore eyes. A year apart from them had felt like ten. All John felt upon his return was a sense of utmost relief, every day since he left spent waiting for this exact moment.
But something was off. In the brief time he had been back, John could sense that something was wrong.
Dutch’s eyes did meet his then, “I’m glad you’re alright, John.” His lips were pressed in a thin line, like even the smallest ounce of affection towards the younger boy was hard for him.
John nodded, “I did what you asked. I found out everything I could about Blackwater.”
“That you did. But there is another matter we need to discuss, dear boy.” Dutch moved closer to John, his gaze hardening and unblinking as he looked at him from a furrowed brow.
The uneasiness John felt grew. This wasn’t how he expected to be welcomed back into the gang. He tried to push it away. Yet before Dutch said the words, John already knew what he was going to say.
“I found your letters.”
John tensed, the blood draining from his face and down his body. Fear seized him as his mind began to race. “I-I don’t-”
“Don’t take me for a fool boy!” Dutch gave a cautious glance around them after raising his voice. Giving a deep sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he finally looked up at John again, eyes cold.
“Now. I’m going to make myself very clear. And all you’re going to do is listen.”
John couldn’t move, he was scared that if he did Dutch might strike him, or worse. That Dutch might cast him out right then and there without another word. So he did as he was told.
“Not only were the contents of your letters… so wrong…” John flinched at the way he practically spat out the last word. Dutch shook his head in disapproval as he struggled to continue, “but also impetuous. You jeopardized the gang’s safety for not one or two but several childish notes?”
“But I swear I didn’t say nothing about what I was doing!” John made the mistake of trying to justify himself, instantly regretting it when Dutch’s features darkened further.
“Don’t you dare interrupt me, boy!” he hissed out. “I told you to listen to me!”
He paused for only a heartbeat, “Those letters were, quite frankly, heartbreaking to read. I wish you wouldn’t do this to me, son.” Dutch hung his head. He looked ashamed to even speak about it. “You disgust me, Marston.”  His lips curling at the statement, John truly believing it as he said it.
“I have been patient,” Dutch continued. “I have put up with you and Arthur’s naive ignorance well beyond what was deserved. And for what? That you may take advantage of my tolerance? The sheer disrespect you have for your fellow family members and that you have shown me has disappointed me greatly, John.”
Dutch spoke the words with a frightening calmness, but John could tell he was furious by how his hands shook when gesturing. The vein in his temple protruding at the stress of the conversation. John rarely saw him this mad. He knew Dutch was not so fond of him yet never had this anger been directed toward anyone but their foes.
“Now, here is what is going to happen. My initial response was to see you leave and never return. But because of what you have done for me, for this family, I have reconsidered. Instead, I am allowing you to stay under the condition you act like you did not write a single one of those letters.” Dutch held a finger up to John to emphasize, “and you will deny ever having written him.”
He moved so close to John that he could feel the hotness of his breath against his face, “you will cease any vile actions or feelings you had towards that boy and we will never speak of this again. Because there won’t be a conversation next time.”
John swallowed dryly, not daring to move a muscle.
“Do you understand?”
John nodded frantically, blinking rapidly to push away the stinging he felt behind his eyes.
“Good,” with that Dutch turned to walk away, stopping to turn back a last time. “You should be grateful, boy. For my leniency towards your selfish actions.”
By the time John finally moved from his petrified state, the camp was settling in for their evening meal. The stew ready for consumption by the looks of the eager bustle of people lined up at the pot.
Mindlessly, John made his way through camp, wanting nothing but the solitude of his tent. He purposely avoided any eye contact, though as he walked the short distance, there were a few people who called out to him, sharing their relief at seeing him back. Hosea went out of his way to clap him on the back, shaking his shoulder. “It’s good to have you back, son. It hasn’t been the same without you.”
The smile he gave was so genuine that John felt he might break his composure at the sight. He only mumbled his thanks as he slipped out of the older man’s grasp and retreated to his tent. Once he was within the safety of the canvas walls, he moved to his bed.
It was dark inside, so when he moved to light a candle but bumped into someone instead he yelled out in surprise.
“Shit!”
When his eyes adjusted, he saw Nico standing before him with a bowl of stew in her hands. “Sorry, John. I didn’t mean to startle you.” After a second she put the bowl down on his side table. She studied his face, worry creasing her features. “You should eat something. You must be hungry.”
He blinked at her, heart still racing from her surprise visit. Then suddenly he threw his arms around her. John didn’t know if it was from being away from everyone for so long, or that this simple gesture of hers threw him over the edge. But he couldn’t help himself, trying to hold back crying as he did.
She hesitated for a moment before putting her arms around him. It wasn’t like either of them to do this sort of thing. It was awkward, but she didn’t pull away until John did. It lifted a little bit of the weight he felt since returning, thankful for Nico despite the turn of events that evening.
“We need to talk. But not in camp.” She spoke in a hushed tone.
John agreed by nodding his head and Nico gave his arm a squeeze before exiting. Once she was gone, he sat slumped over his stew, but he held no appetite. He stared into it dreadfully, finally putting it aside. He thought he might unpack his bag instead. Though he had little belongings on his travels, he needed some sort of distraction.
He didn’t want to think about what just transpired. Couldn’t for the fear of what might happen if he did. Eventually, he moved to his bed, waiting to be taken by sleep. It didn’t come easy, never having fluctuated between so many emotions at once. So he pushed all thoughts far from his mind, replaced by a numbness that gave him little comfort and eventually drifted off.
-
The days that followed were filled with John reciting everything he had discovered about the town of Blackwater to Dutch. This meant spending hours on end cooped up inside a tent with the man he wanted to spend the least amount of time with. It made him miserable.
He hadn’t seen Arthur since the night he returned. The older boy busy on some pursuit in town with Hosea and another man named Thomas Steels, whom they’d picked up during John’s absence. He didn’t see much of Nico either, though it wasn’t unlike her to constantly drift in and out around camp. Not like how Trelawney did, who only seemed to be around when it suited him best.
Nico had always been independent since the day she started running with the gang. John didn’t know much about her other than she was picked up similar to how he and Arthur were. She, too, was on her own at a young age. A thief by nature, nimble on her feet and scarily good with throwing knives. She was a suitable addition to the Van Der Linde gang.
The three of them being the youngest members, they became fast friends. And though she was quiet and spent much of her time alone, her loyalties never faltered as she always came back to them.
John liked her, and considered her a close friend, but it wasn’t anything like what he felt for Arthur. With Arthur things were different. They shared a bond John never thought was something he was capable of sharing with anyone. Like when he was around him the world was right. John wanted nothing more than to spend all his time with the other boy. Now when he thought about it all he was followed by a somberness at the prospect of things never returning to how they once were.
When Arthur, Hosea, and Steels finally arrived back a few days later, John couldn’t help the relief that came with seeing him again. It was early morning by the time they rode into camp, the day already humid as they were deep into summer. Arthur was next to Hosea, laughing at something he said. His eyes squeezed tight as he held a hand to his stomach. It was almost like how it was before his year away, John’s heart aching as he watched.
John had spent the last few nights restless, finally convincing himself that he needed to speak with Arthur. He was terrified, of course, but he made up his mind. So with their return, John wasted no time. Afraid that he might change his mind if he waited too long.
He continued to watch Arthur as he dismounted his horse and made haste to the edge of camp where the coffee was freshly brewed each morning. John approached as he poured himself a cup, not bothering to look up. When he moved to set the kettle back over the fire, John reached out to grab Arthur’s outstretched arm “Hey, wait. I need to talk with you.”
He felt Arthur stiffen for an instant before quickly letting go when he noticed Hosea walking up toward them.
“Oh, it’s good to see you two back to normal. This place has been too quiet without the likes of you getting up to no good!” John and Arthur both awkwardly avoided looking at each other.
Hosea filled his own cup before continuing, “but don’t pay me any mind, I’ll leave you boys to it.” Once Hosea was gone, Arthur didn’t move but still wouldn’t look at him straight.
“Please,” John whispered to him. “Come to my tent later.”
Arthur hesitated, “Fine. Maybe.”
Then he was gone again. And even though it wasn’t much, John hung onto the little bit of hope that rose in his chest. It made John feel better. So much so that the next time he went to meet with Dutch about Blackwater, things didn’t seem as dreadful as they usually did.
This time around, Dutch thought it would be a good idea to get out of camp a little. He thought he might show him around town to get him better acquainted.
As they rode out the sun beat down on John, sweat dripping from the nape of his neck while he followed Dutch down an unfamiliar path. Moving a hand to wipe at it, he glanced over at the older man. He wasn’t sure if Dutch felt as tired as John did, the man giving no indication with his straight posture and unexpressive features.
Soon they’d made it to a quaint farm on the outskirts of a town John had never seen before. If anyone could even call it a town. The place had maybe a couple of buildings and a train station somewhat separate from the rest of the settlement. But most prominently, no saloon.
They left their horses outside, John finding relief as him and the gang’s leader made their way inside the barn and out of the dreadful heat. Inside the air was stuffy but not unwelcome, as anything was better than being fried alive in the sun.
Dutch motioned to a man working with the horses, “this here’s Reedus, John.”
The man looked up at their entrance, stabbing the pitchfork he held into a bale of hay. He proceeded to dust his hands on his overalls before holding one out to greet John, “pleasures all mine, sir.”
John shook it respectfully, the man known as Reedus giving a goofy smile in return. Reedus was tall and had skin heavily darkened by the sun, no doubt from all the work spent outside. Though John didn’t know what to make of the man, he quite liked him.
“This is the closest stable to our… establishment. This will be the place for all your horse needs.” Dutch lowered his voice, “and other more, how should I say, discreet needs.”
John gave a look of confusion, not exactly understanding what he meant.
“He’s also a fence, son.”
Reedus nodded enthusiastically.
“Ah, I see.”
Dutch turned to Reedus with a polite smile, “could you give us a moment, please?”
The stable boy complied, setting down the pitchfork he held and hurried out the doors. He made sure to shut them when he left, leaving Dutch and John alone.
“Do you know why I brought you here?”
“You wanted to talk more about Blackwater, I figured.”
Dutch gave a huff of laughter, “yes, yes, in a sense I suppose you are right. You’ve told me of your findings there, how it seems a profitable venture by the sounds of it.”
John nodded and Dutch continued, “But do you remember what you did there?”
When John only blinked in confusion, Dutch motioned his arms around in a grand gesture. “Why, you worked in a stable quite similar to this!”
“I did, yeah.” John didn’t know what Dutch was getting at.
“Well, I’m sure something can be arranged for you here if anything were to happen to our dear friend, Reedus.”
John frowned, “I-I don’t understand.”
“I hoped I made myself perfectly clear, John. About our previous discussion. Though, seems that ain’t the case as I heard you and Arthur were mighty friendly towards one another.” He paused, eyes hardening as he looked at him. “Now John, did I make a mistake in letting you stay?”
John froze, panic seizing him, “n-no. No of course not, Dutch.”
“Good.” Dutch pressed his lips into a thin line before finally dropping his eyes. “Then let this be the last reminder you receive, boy.”
John’s eyes were glued to Dutch as he moved to pick up one of the branding irons from the fire. Lifting it, the spoke was red-hot and glowing in the low light of the barn. John tensed as he held the branding iron up. It cast a glow across the older man’s face, twisting his features into something sinister. John knew the image before him would reoccur for countless nightmares to come, his skin crawling from the sight.
When Dutch took a step towards him, John didn’t know whether to run or plead. He did neither, helpless in his presence like he had no choice but to give in, because what would he do? If he ran he would get caught, and whatever was in store for him would only turn into something far worse.
John only stood in place as Dutch grabbed his shirt, pulling it up to reveal his bare chest. Without hesitation, he brought the hot-iron against the stretched skin over his ribs. The pain was instant, white-hot as he heard the sizzling of hot metal against his flesh. He cried out in pain, grabbing onto Dutch’s sleeve as he felt his knees give out beneath him.
It was over before he knew it. Dutch simultaneously let go of him and the spoke, both falling to the floor in defeat. He knelt down beside where John was doubled over in anguish, “I just want you to know that you ain’t no son of mine, John Marston.” His tone was hushed but hid no sentiment of his words. Then he stood once more, not even giving him a second glance as he left out the barn doors.
“I’ll see you at camp, boy.”
When Dutch was gone, John collapsed in a pile of straw next to where the horses were stabled. He lay crying for some time, clenching his side. The pain almost more prominent than while it was happening. It was agonizing to move, so he stayed curled up alone with only the pain and his thoughts.
Part of John that believed perhaps what Dutch had done was warranted. That he had brought this upon himself and that he should be punished. He was told of the consequences. He risked his place in the gang when he tried to speak to Arthur. Even worse, he risked dragging Arthur into this whole mess.
Though he knew Arthur could do no wrong in the eyes of Dutch, the chance of him getting into any trouble because of John made him hesitant. And that hesitation ultimately led to giving in to Dutch’s cruel intentions.
When the barn door creaked open, John flinched. The small slit of sunlight made him wince as he held up a hand to cover his eyes. His heart rate increased while he waited for his sight to adjust on the figure before him.
Nico stood at the entrance, wide-eyed as she gave him a once over. Immediately she rushed towards him. “I saw you and Dutch going inside the barn and then only he left and-and…” she stuttered before trailing off, her expression mournful as if she wasn’t even surprised when she assumed what happened next.
John had never seen her without such composure before, it scared him to witness it. “I’ll be right back.” She stood and left for what only felt like a short minute before coming back in with her hands full of supplies.
Nico knelt back beside him, hesitating for a moment, “is it okay if I…?”
John complied by nodding and carefully lifting his shirt with shaking fingers. She set down what looked like a clean shirt in her lap and unscrewed a water canteen she held in her other hand. Silence filled the air between them as she worked. Gently, she poured the cool water across the burn. He gave a sharp inhale from the sudden contact, her eyes flickering to his in worry.
When she was finished cleaning the wound she started tearing up the shirt she brought into strips, then tied them together. John adjusted himself so his back wasn’t to the floor and she began wrapping the cloth lightly around his chest, making sure it was still tight enough so it wouldn’t rub. Once she was done, she spoke softly to break the quiet between them.
“He hasn’t been the same since you left.”
John turned towards her, letting the words sink in. He didn’t know what to say in response.
“It’s like each day he grew more distant with everyone, he just didn’t seem as carefree as he did before. It was hard to see him that way. Dutch entertained the idea that you had just run off, pretty much convinced the whole camp of it. Arthur was the last to accept it.”
His heart dropped at the thought of all the time Arthur spent thinking that John lied to him. Weeks expecting his letters to arrive followed by months spent feeling cheated. No wonder he avoided John when he finally did show up.
“Well, other than me. I don’t trust Dutch. I don’t think the others see it, though. They are blinded by the saving grace he was for them. They all owe him their lives, but beneath his charm and charisma I see a wickedness that will destroy the people around him.”
John was surprised at her confession. Suspicious, too, that it could all be part of some clever ploy Dutch himself strung together to torture him. Yet he believed her, and maybe he was a fool for doing so but John so desperately wanted for someone else to see him as the man he really was.
“You don’t know how good it is to hear someone else say it.” John breathed out, eyes watering.
She gave him a sad, knowing smile. They continued to sit together for a little while longer before Nico eventually helped John up when he gained enough strength. They rode back in silence, John eternally thankful that Nico had found him. He wondered that if it weren’t for her he might’ve just stayed there forever.
As they approached the border of their camp, John halted. “Maybe you should ride ahead. I don’t want you to get any unwanted attention from Dutch by being seen with me.”
“Let him.” She didn’t stop, so he continued following her. He had to admire her boldness.
John didn’t realize how long it had been until the sun began setting as they hitched their horses. All he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and cry. He was exhausted from a cruel day, but he was also angry. Angry at the world for what he endured, angry at Dutch for treating him like some dog that needed to be beaten into submission. Angry at himself for letting it happen.
John looked across the campsite at Dutch just as he exited his quarters, their eyes locking. He narrowed them at John, then darted to his side when Nico came up to stand beside him. Her gaze didn’t falter as she stared straight at him.
“Go on John, you should get some rest.”
He turned toward his tent, not daring to glance back. He didn’t relax until making it inside. John tried to push everything from his mind, managing to hold himself together. He was afraid that if he fell apart now he might not be able to put himself together again.
Steadily, he sat at the edge of his bed, careful not to strain his movements too much. In the quiet, he was aware of the stinging sensation underneath the tightly wrapped bandage around his chest. He was so in his head that he didn’t notice the shadowy figure at the tent’s entrance.
When he stood up in alarm he saw the unmistakable silhouette of Arthur positioned there, dark from the moonlight that cast him almost black.
John had completely forgotten about their arrangement to meet.
At first he said nothing, to which John only studied him in the little lighting he was given. He hadn’t properly looked at Arthur since returning. His hair was longer and his expression more frigid, but other than that he was the same Arthur that he remembered from a year ago.
“Is it true.” Arthur’s voice shook when he finally broke the tense air between them. John could tell it bothered him that his voice cracked from emotion at the way his hand clenched into a fist at his side.
“Dutch told me you left because you-” Arthur pressed his lips together and averted his eyes before continuing, “you didn’t want to be with us no more.”
After a moment he looked back up at John, his eyes hardening slightly. “So, is it true?”
John opened his mouth to answer, to say something, anything. The image of Dutch in the barn and the burning sensation seized him in a cold sweat. The mark on his ribs a stinging reminder of John’s disobedience.
Arthur looked at him expectantly. But John said nothing. He couldn’t find it in him to lie to the one person he cared for most in the world.
It seemed John answered his question nonetheless. His pained expression misinterpreted by Arthur as the boy gave a tight nod, pensive as he accepted John’s silence as confirming everything Dutch spun for him true.
He turned his back to leave but lingered at the entrance of the tent for a moment longer.
“I wish you never came back.”
Stung by his words, John was not able to stop the overflow of tears from rolling down his cheeks this time. Cursing himself for not being as strong as Nico.
He swallowed dryly, speaking softly so his voice wouldn’t shake and give away his true feelings when he responded, “perhaps that would’ve been best.”
Though he couldn’t see Arthur’s face, John knew him too well. Aware of the way his body slumped in disappointment. Realizing the fact that Arthur had a little bit of hope in him, too.
And that’s when John felt it. For all the pain he endured in his life, nothing came close to the breaking he felt in that moment. His world crumbling before him at the understanding that there was nothing he could do to take it back. The long summer nights riding to discover a better spot to watch the sunset together, the times spent preoccupying their boredom by losing count of the stars in the night sky. The recollection of stupid jokes they killed themselves laughing over when they both knew deep down they weren’t funny at all. Nothing could fill the absence of a year spent apart and filled by the cruel lies put in their place. Everything they had built between the two of them fading as Arthur walked away from him for the first and what John knew to be the final time.
Each step solidifying that what they once had was lost alongside every one of John’s letters that may as well have been written in the wind.
38 notes · View notes
sunnyborabora · 5 years
Text
Crush (Jungwoo x Reader)
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Is it me being actually in time? I can’t believe it! But how can I resist the sweetest boy our baby Jungwoo... Hope you’ll like it sweet anon! 
warning: Smut with sub Jungwoo, tooth rotting fluff and more smut
You were not sure how you find yourself in this situation. Clutching your bag in your arms you tried not to think about how you were now in front of Jungwoo's house, with the responsibility of having to bring him his homework. Everything was your dumb ass of a best friend fault. When one of your professor had ask who could take notes and homework for Jungwoo who had been missing for a few days now, that traitor had look at you right in the eyes before raising her hand and pointing at you, saying that it wouldn’t bother you at all to bring him everything. You were a serious student. But your notes were full of holes as you sometimes completely failed at following a full class. You were now in front of Jungwoo's apartment thinking about what the hell you were going to say. It was simple. You were going to say hi, ask him how he was doing, give him the notes, answer some questions about class and then go. You were definitely not going to stare at him dumbfounded admiring the prettiest boy in the world. If your best friend had given you off to the professor like this. It was because you may have the tiniest crush on Jungwoo since middle school. Not your fault if he was the kindest, funniest and most handsome person you ever laid your eyes on. You were not the type to act on your feelings, after some failed relationships you had decided that you were way better at having crushes than actual relationships. It had resulted in some heartbreak and a global disappointment in love. You ringed once before you could think about it. If you had waited longer you probably would have run away. « Y/n ? Oh I almost forgot that you were supposed to come » You had texted him yesterday asking him when he would like you to come to give him his homework. You had his phone number since forever but had not used it except for some class project where you found yourself in the same group as him. Knowing that he had « almost » forgot about you stung like a bitch. « No problem, I can come another day... -No ! Absolutely not ! Come inside » he said, getting on the side to let you in. This is when you saw his knee splint. A light gasp escaped you. « How did it happened ?! » He laughed closing the door behind you. « I was practicing with the guys for a dance rehearsal when I hurt myself. -You should not move around too much please go sit » He laughed. « You are my guest and you are the one taking care of me. Something is wrong here » You did not say anything, simply sat on the couch where he told you to. « Do you want something to eat ? Drink ? -No thank you, I am fine », you smiled at him. He looked tired but still radient. His smile was making your heart flutter like always. He sat next to you not too close but still enough for your thigh to feel the heat of his body. « Did I miss a lot ? Damn that really suck, I hate missing classes but honestly I could barely walk until yesterday. -You could barely walk until yesterday and now you are hopping around your apartment ? » He stuck his tongue out at you and you simply laugh. Jungwoo was always making you laugh. He was always really nice to you, even if you weren't best friend he always considered you. « No don't worry you did not miss that much. We have a couple of assignment that are due in two weeks and I bring you my notes so you can catch up. » You raised your eyes to look at him, he was fixing you in awe. « Jungwoo ? Is everything okay ? » He seemed taken aback. « Y-yeah, sorry » It took you more time than you thought to explain everything to Jungwoo. He was a bit distracted and the more you were talking, and he wasn't, the more you were becoming hyper aware of his presence, how he was now sitting way closer than at the beginning. His chin was almost on your shoulder, his torso was warm against your side. You were starting to suffocate. What was he doing ? Was he doing it on purpose ? Were you paranoid ? Of course, you were because it was impossible for Jungwoo to be interested in you. No way. But here he was so close, smiling at you, watching like you own the world as you were explaining to him all the work he had to do in order to catch up. You were definitely not the type of girl who was clueless about the attention she was gettin. If your best friend had been in love with you for years you probably would have known it since the beginning. You needed attention a lot, you knew it was something you needed to work on but, at least you knew when someone was flirting with you. Jungwoo wasn't flirting. It was something else that made your heart beat faster and you thoughts a mess. « So yeah, hum, we have that last assignment in biology. It's pretty simple but it's very » He hummed near your ear causing goosebumps to run down your spine. It was freaking asmr at this point. « Long, very long... » He seemed to think for a bit. « I really suck in biology though. Isn't it your specialty Y/n ? » It was. It was your favorite subject and everyone in your circle of friend knew that when they needed someone to help them in biology you were the first they call. « Yeah, I-I am okay I guess. -Come on everyone knows that you are the best. Could you help me ? » Maybe he was being like this because he wanted you to do all his homework ? No it was Jungwoo. He would never use you. You really hoped at least because it would break your heart. « No problem. I-I can help you with some stuff. If you need more help after that you, j ust have to text me » He nodded enthusiastically, his sweet cheeks slightly pink and you swear you had never seen someone that adorable. You decided to explain him the assignment in details, maybe just to give yourself an excuse to stay longer with him. The tension between the two of you was something else right now. You had no idea how it had become so dense, so thick, so here... It was hard for you to breath as you sometimes crossed the eyes of Jungwoo and you saw a slight change in his demeanor. You finally accepted a drink, your throat dry from all that talking and maybe something else. It was only when he was gone that you realized how close he was from you. You face palmed, more confused than ever. « Are you okay Y/n ? You seem... Flustered and confused » You rose your head from between your hand and you saw him, standing there, his sweat shirt and sport shorts making him look like the boyfriend material he really was. « Flustered ? Yeah... You can say that... » He walked in your direction trying not to force on his leg too much. « Why ? Is everything okay ? » Why was he playing innocent like that ? He was breathing on you three minutes ago and now this. « M-maybe I should go... It was not a good idea to come... Sorry Jungwoo » As you were ready to leave he grabbed your hand almost tripping on his leg. He hissed from the pain making you panicked. « Please don't leave Y/n ! Please I-I swear I wont do it again, I am sorry » What was he talking about. « Jungwoo just sit down, your leg, you are going to hurt yourself » Panicked started invading you as he seemed even more in pain. « Please don't go -I am not going anywhere just sit down, please. » You helped him sit down, as you took the glass of water he just brought for you and gave it to him. He drank it a little, but he seemed to be more focused on you. « Jungwoo, are you okay ? -Yeah, I just- I am sorry. I should not have overstepped your boundaries like this... It's just that, when you texted me, I was so happy. I saw this as an opportunity to get closer to you as you always seem so far out of my league in class. » You chocked at that. You, out of his league. « I just like you so much and when Johnny told me that you may have feelings for me too. At first, I could not believe it but... I like you, so, so much. I wanted to try » You were speechless. You could not believe what just happened. First of all the boy you liked, happened to like you back. Secondly Johnny, that dumb ass had thrown you under the bus. Thirdly Jungwoo liked you ? You were so overwhelmed that you started crying. What a ridiculous way of dealing with emotions honestly. Crying in front of the boy who had just confess to you, what a beautiful way of making him think you are a weirdo. « Y/n ! What- Don't cry please ! No » He took you in his arms, crushing you in his embrace. « I just- I can't believe it » you tried to say between two sobs. « Why can't you believe it... -It's you... I've liked you since forever. I thought it was a crush but... How can I not like you when you are yourself.... You are always so kind to everyone, so selfless. I just- I can't understand why you would be with me and- » He grabbed your face between his hands and kiss you. You didn't react instantly, too surprised by his sudden actions. But when you realized that his plump, soft lips were on yours, you closed your eyes and responded. You heard him moan slightly when you tried to deepen the kiss. « Y/n- Wait... » You stopped pulling away a bit ashamed. He must have seen your face because he said right away : « No ! No it's not that ! I want- fuck, I want you » He was breathing heavily looking at you in the eyes. He was so sinful, his lips already red from kissing, his cheeks flushed. « I-I am sorry... I was caught up in the- I am sorry I didn't want to make you uncomfortable -You didn't. It's me, I am scared to make you run away. -W-why would you make me run away ? I like you too... » He didn't say anything. He just kissed you again, this time deeper. It felt good, Jungwoo was a passionate kisser You were still on your knees in front of him. And as you look in his eyes you can see all the lust and passion that he held. You grabbed his shirt, lifting it upwards as a hint to take it off. Jungwoo understood and tossed off the sweatshirt as if it was hurting him to wear it any longer. You couldn't help but look at his body. Thin, perfectly sculpted torso, a trail of black hair tracing an inviting line from his belly button to the edge of his shorts. You looked at his eyes suddenly aware of your staring. His eyes were full of lust. You couldn't help it but to start kissing him again. « Y/n ! Fuck I can't take it anymore ! » You understood by the way he was reacting to you, the way he become putty in your hands that he was definitely more comfortable as a sub. You were not expecting this to be honest. You never really thought about being a dom, taking control of everything. But it would not stop you. His attitude, the way he was abandoning himself completly, it was driving you crazy. You nipped at his neck, taking your sweet time enjoying the taste of his skin. « Jungwoo, you look so good baby... » He moaned as you started sucking harder on his skin, making sure of leaving purple marks all over his smooth hot skin. You honestly had no idea of what you were going to do after that, but you thought that worshiping his body was a good start. He was the most beautiful creature you ever laid your eyes on, it was almost too much. « Please Y/n... » He was pointing at your shirt. You stopped your ministration and proceed to took it off. You were starting to get self conscious about your body. Honestly you couldn't know while choosing your bra this morning that you'll have to take off your shirt in front of a hot guy. It didn't seem to bother Jungwoo as he was fixing your breast. He was breathing heavier, and he closed his eyes, unconsciously opening his legs a bit more to let you more space between them. You smirked at his reaction, proceeding to take off your bra as well, if he liked your breast, you should do the most. Maybe you were being cruel when you set yourself between his thighs, pressing your boobs on his hard on. He opened his eyes in shook a moan escaping his mouth. « Fuck ! What- are you doing !? » You smirked at him, not answering, simply starting your work again. When trail a path of kisses down his neck, collarbone arriving at his chest, your hot tongue passing on his nipples. He arched his back, incoherent noises coming out of his mouth. « You are so perfect Jungwoo. You look so pretty like this... » He looked at you thought his heavy lids. « That's not true... I am not at all. You are the perfect one here... » You smiled, your cheeks becoming a bit more red at the compliment but understanding that him not accepting the compliment was deeper than it seemed. You wanted to make him feel good, to make him understand that he was beautiful, a living piece of art. You sucked on his sensitive nipple, your tongue flicking to soft nubs. He was shacking after a while, cry of pleasure coming out of his mouth as he could not control anything anymore. « I am just wondering, you are so sensitive after all, could I make you cum just by playing with your nipples ? » Jungwoo cried a bit more at this. You were never the type to dirty talk but Jungwoo was stimulating things in you, and you were being able to explore your boundaries freely. He looked down at you with his eyes glossy from tears, his lips bitten red, a look that you wanted printing in your memory forever. You started playing with the aim of his shorts. He helped you to get rid of it, so eager that the poor shorts disappeared even faster that the sweatshirt. He was really eager. His member was standing tall, stiff, an angry red color. You could not help yourself, coming closer to observe the pearls of precum that were already dripping from the tip. You softly blow on the sensitive tip, making him shiver from head to toe. « Y/n please... Do something... -What do you want me to do ? » He was red from embarrassment, so shy he could not look at you in the eyes. « Can you, please, your- » He didn't finished his sentence but you understood. You smiled at such a sweet reaction, bringing your lips to the head and quickly suckling it up. Jungwoo let out moan that was beating all the others. You savored his salty taste, licking his shaft from base to tip, trying your best to make it as slippery as possible. You spread his precum all over it, and to your amazement more was coming out every time. You  grabbed his thighs hard. You didn't mean to but your sharp nails scratch his soft skin letting red marks appearing on his flesh. A cry escaped him. « Oh my god I am sorry ! -No ! Fuck, it's fine... » Indeed he didn't look in pain at all. You tried to not look self conscious, overthinking was not going to help you. You found yourself doing it pretty naturally in fact, you think as you started to work his shaft with your breasts.
Jungwoo's mind began to go into putty as his nerves started to become overwhelmed with pleasure. Your breasts were so soft and it was somehow comforting. He started to buck his hips up, the part's that your flesh obstructed getting air for a moment before being swallowed again in an almost hypnotic move. You were so concentrate on what you were doing you didn't see how Jungwoo was enjoying himself. « Hmm, Jungwoo baby, you're close. » You cooed, giving his cock a sweet kiss on the tip. « I can feel your heartbeat all the way down here. You are so hard, and throbbing every time I move. You want to cum, don't you? » More precum comes out and you drank it up as Jungwoo couldn't take it anymore, pumping his hips up into your chest, you could not help but watching him with a mesmerized expression as he worked your chest fervidly. You noticed your absence of action on his throbbing head had caused a build-up of pre-cum, and with the way he was fucking himself between your breast you knew it would end it. You captured his members tip in your mouth, suckling off the essence before applying suction, and you were rewarded with a vocal moan from Jungwoo that was coming from deep in his chest. Rope after rope of white cum shooting from his tip, splashing onto your face as he stiffened and throbbed on each shot. Your face was dripping when Jungwoo finally stopped riding his high, your tongue licking your lips to taste the essence, too curious about his taste. You watched Jungwoo relax and calm himself down. He was looking at you like you were a goddess walking on earth. « Y/n... » You shushed him down, making a sign for him to give you something to wipe your face. He grabbed a napkin that was on the table and helped you clean your face. He leaned toward you to kiss your lips. « Y/n, I want you. » Nothing else filled his mind but you and even if you just made him cum that hard he wanted nothing but feel you. You were soon taking of your jeans and ruined panties. You were so wet it had dripped down your thighs, and Jungwoo was feeling it really well as you were straddling his thighs.It was happening, and for a moment you could not believe it. He slipped into you slowly. Your breath hitched together and your fingers quickly found his shoulders and clawed into his skin. You adjusted yourself into position to be comfortable a bit overwhelmed by the feeling of him filling you. You were trembling on his lap, and he grasped your hands, enter whinning your fingers to help you stay study. You bucked your hips forward with a small, breathy gasp. Jungwoo's head tilted back. His eyes were fixed on you as you were facing each other in an intimate way. Your eyes closing, you rolled your hips back, just to hear him moan. His own eyes rolled into the back of his head and his lips parted silently. You roll your hips slowly, at a steady pace. « I-Fuck » Jungwoo's eyes darted from your eyes to your mouth, an irresistible want to kiss you invading him. You leaned a bit, bringing yourself closer to his face. He did the same but you suddenly let go of his hands and push him against the couch. Your palms traced over his chest and Jungwoo had no intention of moving. Your hands pressed against his chest and your hips bucked against him with an increasing speed. His thighs tensed underneath you. Encouraged by your increasing path, his hips moved ever so slightly every time you came back down. Every few pulses forward made you arched backwards. His hands came on your hips that rolled almost hypnotically on top of him, keeping a consistent but driving pace. Your fingers dug into his skin as his dug into your waist. A sound escaped Jungwoo’s lips and his fingers twitched. His eyes rolled into the back of his head once again, and all he could feel was you. He moved closer to you, grabbing hold of your hips, and thrust away with an increasing rhythm, nudging himself closer and closer to the edge. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, your body was curving into his, as much as you were now circling his neck with your arms to steady you. Your moans became louder and louder the longer he took. « Jungwoo ! » You clung onto each other, riding the rising wave as every part of your bodies tensed in anticipation, waiting for that peak, with your breath shuddering across each other’s shoulders. Your fingers clawed up his neck into his hair, turning his head to face her. Your eyes locked as you asked « Look at me, please » He unraveled and held onto you tightly as he reached his peak and came again. The cute moans from his throat and the light bite he made into your neck sent you over the edge with him. You came with a loud, high-pitched moan as all the tension fell away to the waves of pleasure rolling through you. You are shuddering in his arms as you are both hugging strongly. After some time, Jungwoo helped you to sit next to him, still holding you. He took a blanket and covered your bodies with it. You snuggled into him, not wanting to be away from him just yet. « You are still helping me in biology right ? »
You scoffed at him, hitting his arm gently.
« More than ever »
He laughed sweetly, his arm bringing you even closer as he leaned on for a kiss.
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j-itose · 4 years
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A Turning Point - BGR Fest 2020 Concert Review
March 6, 2020
Friday evening was a night well lived. I went with my mother and my cousin to go see Lauryn Hill in concert at the Kennedy Center in Washington DC. It was quite the spontaneous decision by my mother, but we all went along with it because legends like Lauryn don’t come around every lifetime let alone to your area 20 years after their “prime”. So, we decided to break the monotony of our weekend rituals and make it a girl's night. I had no idea that coming to this concert that I would leave feeling so stirred in my spirit, so filled with conviction to pursue passion and purpose, and in the same breath boldly claim every note, inflection, melody, and tempo of my life story. Watching both Alice Smith and Ms. Legendary Hill I saw black womanhood in its organic most blossomed form.
Ms. Smith sang every single song with such compelling velvety vocal range it called every goosebump forward. Her sharp yet soothing falsettos and moody full base notes sweetly communicated the honesty behind her soul-bearing lyrics. Smith and her harmonious band had delivered a sound I didn’t know I was longing to hear again. The artistry and musicianship displayed in her set, made my heart swell with gladness, reminiscing on a time in my life when all I could imagine was a life consumed by creating and vocalizing music. Listening to her made me remember that I once had dreams; dreams I abandoned out fear and doubt. Looking towards that at that stage and gazing upon Alice Smith’s elegantly clothed in a black ruffled gown that seemed to declare her black pride louder than some of us have the confidence to do daily, all I saw was a strong black woman embracing the fullness of her artistry. Reveling in every single piece of emotion embedded in the song’s composition, unbothered by the audience’s perceptions she was her own audience, her own champion, her own woman – She took up space according to her desired comfort.
It was in these moments that I was randomly confronted with such a heavy reflective question – “who told you that you were incapable of being the girl you dreamed of becoming?”. Stunned by the weight of this question amid this gripping performance I glanced down at my hands ashamed…slowly coming to the realization that for years now I had subconsciously been accepting ceilings. I wasn't able to say where or when it started but sitting there in that illustrious theater listening to melodies of R&B it dawned on me; my love for music and performing arts had been oppressed and masked by the whispers of other’s doubts and expectations. I’ve been putting caps and limitations on myself based on boxes and ceiling others have created to keep black girls like me in a specific place. To think that I sacrificed performing arts, my most cherished way of articulating my human experience, for the status quo is saddening. But when I looked back up at the center stage, eyes fixed on Alice Smith…I saw the effortless elegance in her stride. The fluidity - freedom of sorts in her movements and posture as she sang. It was as if each note resonated with her entire body flowing through her like melodic vessels, I was charged with confidence. Viewing her performance, the little black girl inside of me felt welcomed to dream again…and to do so with unapologetic force.
Passion and well-crafted artistry materialized through Alice Smith’s entire set; perfectly lacing her performance with the next experience. Foretelling the enchanting momentum that is Lauryn Hill.
The most dynamic artist of my lifetime, with one of the greatest most potent and impactful albums in this history of R&B, Soul, Rap & Hip-hop sauntered onto the stage in a mauve sequenced suit and boldness to match. As people’s cameras went up and cheers roared in the theater, Ms. Lauryn Hill gracefully stepped up to the mic and greeted the elated people of DC. I’m not sure if I was in such disbelief that I was getting this opportunity to see her in concert or something else but hearing her just talk unleashed fireworks in my vocal cords. She was real. Her distinguished and down to earth tone that consoled me to sleep on many bad days and emboldened me to face life with power other days was no longer a mere recording but an actual reality. Starstruck was an understatement.
Too excited to begin this musical journey, I immediately tried to identify what song she was performing first so that I could sing along. Her band immediately played with fervor, not waiting a moment to set the tone for the evening. Although I heard familiar lyrics instantaneously, I, unfortunately, couldn’t catch the beat enough to vocally interact because she had virtually recomposed all the melodies to her hit songs. She revamped the miseducation of Lauryn hill. What we all heard that night were reinterpreted versions of songs we’ve all grown to love for the past 20+ years. The audience was visibly disappointed the sound had evolved into unfamiliar musical territory.
However, despite my subtle personal disappointment as well, I was drawn back into excitement seeing the authenticity that still heavily encompassed her music. Between the raw gritty rasp in her voice, the gospel-like runs, and the directive conductor signals she gave her band, Lauryn Hill the multi-faceted artist was more than present tonight. She refused to be merely a gimmick on stage singing songs of her past. Tonight we got to see her actively reinventing herself as an artist, while in the same token allowing herself to revisit the soul behind her old lyrics and singing them from a new place - from a place of healing, maturity, and wisdom – The same classic elements that refine us and make Black Girls Rock. Rocks that stand the test of adversity, that lay the foundation for new realities to be built, and that allow younger generations to stand firm and be supported.  Today, seeing Lauryn perform and incorporate modern musical influences into her 98’ album hits was not just a personal achievement, but I feel a victory for the culture. Lauryn Hill is proof that when a black woman steps whole-heartedly into her purpose and passion she declares freedom for herself that causes a positive impact for generations to come.
Lauryn Hill and Alice Smith completely embodied black girl magic in that concert hall. The inspiration they imparted on the women, ladies, and girls is a gift that must be acknowledged. It was a blessing to be in the company of powerful black women, and I’m extremely grateful for the founder and CEO Beverly Bond who paves the way for us daily to have platforms like Black Girls Rock Fest. Thank you for all that you all have done.
Happy Women’s History Month!
J. Itosé
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Madness | Chpt. 22
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Chapter Title: “If I Leave You...”
Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Eva)
Word Count: 7,426
Warnings: angst (ya’ll know me by now), violence, sad!Tony
Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”
Summary: The assault on the Mandarin’s compound proves to have been more than Tony and Eva were prepared to handle, and Killian finds out just how desperate Tony can become when Eva’s life is in question.
A/N: I have taken a turn away from Iron Man 3, and I hope y’all don’t hate me for it. I loved IM3, but I just wanted to take a detour. Killian always seemed like a loose canon, so I wanted to explore a bit more of that in this. Once again, thank you all so, so, so much for reading <3
Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu @mynameisyara @j-j-ehlby-writes @jillilama-blog (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)
*Eva’s POV*
The pain was excruciating, especially when it was mixed with the already unbearable pain that radiated from my abdomen. The Extremis felt like a fire coursing through my veins as I remained strapped down to the table. All I could do was scream and cry, but I refused to give in. Tony and I had lost control of the situation once we got into the compound and found that the Mandarin was nothing more than a man, a decoy. My brutally weakened body made it impossible for me to perform the way I had on the battlefield, so by the time we made it into the compound, my abilities were seemingly spent. I felt human, and there was nothing “spectacular” up my sleeve. When Savin snuck up on Tony and I, I hadn’t even heard him, which only added to my guilt when I watched them drag Tony’s unconscious body away from me as I was dragged in the opposite direction. I kicked and screamed for them to let him go, but no one listened to a prisoner, and that was what I became.
I was dragged into a room filled with machines and the scientists who operated them. Everyone in the room stood around and watched as I was forced to strip away my armor, placing Soulkeeper next to the pieces of armor on the floor. They were whisked away from me before I was given the order to strip away the remainder of my clothing. Upon my refusal, my clothes were torn from my body as hot tears stung my eyes in shame. Asgardians viewed their bodies as art. They were covered to maintain modesty, but there was no shame in our bodies. In that moment, though, when my modesty was taken from me, I felt ashamed. I had quickly covered myself up, unable to do anything but tremble at their mercy, but I never knew mercy. The heat of anger had risen within me, but the moment I saw the veins in my hands begin to take on the red glow, I swallowed it down with my tears.
After tossing a pair of undergarments to me, I was instructed to dress myself, an order I was glad to follow. Once I was finished covering up my most intimate areas, I was dragged to the metal table that I was still strapped to. They began hooking me up to the various machines and poking me with needles, but that still wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was the pain that came when the Extremis serum entered my bloodstream. If the wound hadn’t taken away every ounce of strength I had, my body would’ve fought against the serum, but I was left suffering with the pain it caused instead. I was hyper aware of every single vein as the fire spread through me. It was the most bizarre, physically painful feeling I’d ever experienced in all my life. The fire didn’t die away either. Just when I thought my body would grow accustomed to it, and I’d be left with the constant burn, my hopes were dashed as it continued to rob me of my peace.
Still, even with the pain being so unbearable, I refused to scream, just like I had refused to shed my tears as I was forced to disgrace my own body. They would have none of the satisfaction of breaking me, and I would make sure of it. Should they kill me, I wanted to die with the knowledge that I gave them nothing. If I left them with even an ounce of satisfaction, my death would’ve been shameful. As I laid on the table, the cold metal pressed against my fiery hot skin, I tried to think of anything to take my mind off the way my soul felt like it was being burned out of me. I tried to think of the forest in Asgard, the tree, Loki...her. I wondered where she was, what she was doing, if she was safe...if she was happy. She would be my final thought before I drifted off into the void, but it was only fitting.
A lurch in my heart brought me back to the current situation. If I accepted my own death, I was dooming Tony. We had come here together, and I needed to find a way to ensure his survival. If I survived, it would be a miracle, but I had to try for more than just my own sake. Tony needed to live. Struggling to find any ounce of power that could possibly be left within me, I tried to break free of the restraints. Tony was my priority in that moment and the soft whisper of life reminded me that I had to hold on as tightly as possible. I couldn’t think of the future or the past, I needed to think of that very moment. I needed to find a way to save the man who always saved me. Fighting against the restraints that held me in place, the anger rose within me, and my skin began to glow like a fire was lit beneath the surface. It was the same look I witnessed in Savin and Brandt the night Savin brought a water tower down onto Tony and I.
As my skin began to glow, the pain only intensified. I groaned, trying to use the pain to my advantage. On the battlefield, the pain only fueled the rage that was buried within me. I was able to pick up a small piece of that deep-seated fury and continue on because of it. As my skin became almost transparent, showcasing the fire that had taken over my blood, I felt the cool metal beginning to heat up and melt beneath me. As the scientists around me scrambled, looking to one another for some kind of answer, one of the restraints gave way to the heat, and I pulled my arm from it. Just as I reached over to free my opposite hand, a sharp pain in the back of my neck caused the world to fade away from my view.
A ragged breath pulled me out of my unconscious state, almost as if I was waking up from a nightmare instead of the reality that I was waking up into one. I was strapped against a new table, and there was an IV hooked to my neck that reached a plastic bag filled with clear liquid. In front of me, dressed in a white suit and fixing the cufflinks at his wrists, stood a man with golden hair and blue eyes. His eyes scanned my body over and over again, making me want to sink into the metal table I was on. My entire body had been restrained once more, and it was clear that they had taken extra precautions that time around. The pain had died away slightly, but I still felt the urge to scream, thinking that it would somehow release the tension that was building within me. I felt dazed, my eyes barely able to focus even the man in front of me as a bizarre smile spread across his face, “hi,” he trembled, raising his hand to wave at me. He seemed almost speechless or as if he was bashful, “I’m...Killian, and you must be Eva. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I furrowed my eyebrows, “what happened?” I asked, unaware of what led up to my sudden loss of consciousness. My head didn’t hurt, so I knew I couldn’t have been knocked unconscious, but I could vaguely remember the pain in the back of my neck. My eyes caught the bag of clear liquid once more, and I felt myself beginning to slip out of consciousness once more. Dark circles clouded the edges of my vision, and the sound of the other scientists speaking became like a distant murmur.
Before I could fade off into cold arms of the darkness again, I heard the sound I’d heard so many times before on the battlefield: a blade cutting through flesh. It was clear as day, almost like when a pin dropped in an empty, silent room. As soon as the warmth started spreading through my abdomen, stemming from that one spot, my ears began ringing. My breath hitched in my throat as my eyes shot open. I stared down at the source of the familiar warmth to see Killian’s hand bathing in my blood that began to seep from the new wound. His fingers were clenched around the knife that was buried deep in my abdomen right within the wound that already existed there. The pain didn’t start until he began to twist the dagger as he pulled it from my body, though, and a new sensation followed.
The metallic taste of my own blood filled my mouth, but I swallowed it back, tears stinging my eyes as I thought of all I would miss. I didn’t want to die. A portion of my life-the portion without Loki, without...her-was worthless. For a while, I didn’t care if Death took me, pulled me away from my misery and shoved me into the coldest depths of the afterlife. Now, I had so much left to lose. I had Harley and Kaia, Loki, her. I had so much that was still left to be done, but the probability of living long enough to finish all the things I had started, all the things I was ready for, was slowly diminishing. Killian was going to kill me. In that moment, I knew that I wouldn’t make it out of the compound alive. His blue eyes held too much excitement in them when he looked down at the blood on his hand, and it occurred to me that this was a man driven by power-madness.
He held up a finger, “don’t...” he began, wiping the blood from the knife onto his handkerchief, “ask me questions,” he warned me, a deranged smile crossing over his lips, “it’s not your place, sweetheart.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, grunting as the pain threatened to tear me in two, “I’m not...your sweetheart,” I growled through gritted teeth, knowing that Tony would be working on finding a way out of the compound already. He was probably formulating a plan at that very moment, and my final act of selfless love I felt for him would be to buy him enough time to escape. I was prepared for all the pain in the world, knowing that the more time he spent on me, the less time he would have with Tony. Gripping my restraints, I arched one of my brows, challenging him.
He grinned, wiping the blood from his hands with the handkerchief before folding it back up and putting it back into the pocket of his suit, “you’re bold for a girl who is currently at my mercy,” he said, slipping his arms from his suit jacket before tossing it to the side. He closed the space between us, lifting his fingers to trail along my skin at the same pace that Loki’s once had. Killian’s were rougher, though. His touch was filled with anger, frustration, and a burning desire for power. I flinched away from his touch, but there was only so far back I could go with the restraints holding me firmly in place, “I could...do whatever I wanted to you right now, whatever I desired, and you can’t do anything to stop me. Do you realize just how much power I have over you? Are you oblivious?” he asked, his fingers trailing along the taut skin just below my ribs. It was where Loki often rested his head, making sure to press a single kiss there right before falling asleep with my hands tangled in his hair. I’d never feel that again.
I grimaced at his words, disgusted with his demeanor. When I killed, it was always quick and as painless as possible. When my father brought Hjalmar and I out into the woods to hunt for food, he always told me to aim straight for the heart because the animal would die quickly. It wouldn’t be forced to suffer and bleed out. Allowing something to suffer was cruel, so I took that lesson with me throughout life. Even when I was on the battlefield, facing those who had taken the lives of my friends and comrades, I still gave them a quick death, believing it to be my duty. I dreamed of one day taking my time with Thanos, but he deserved none of my empathy. What Killian was doing was cruel, sick, twisted. When I failed to answer his question, he closed the space between us, grabbing my chin and jerking my head over so that our eyes met, “I asked you a question. Answer me!” he hissed, his voice low as his skin glowed just like mine had only moments prior and similar to the way Savin’s and Brandt’s had when Tony and I encountered them.
“You don’t have to do this,” I whispered, hoping that I could somehow reason with him. I still had a lot to look forward to, a lot that was left undone-unsaid. Loki shouldn’t have heard of my secret from my father. It was supposed to be me. It was supposed to be before his fall from the Bifrost. If only I had told him sooner, perhaps none of this would’ve happened. Perhaps we’d be helping Tony together, and we wouldn’t have been stuck in this mess to begin with. There was so much I had left to do, and the essence of life was still a whisper in my soul, telling me that I was ready.
He snickered, the side of his mouth pulling up into a smirk, “I know that,” he remarked, stepping away from me, his hands finally leaving my skin. I breathed a soft sigh of relief as he turned away. He shrugged his shoulders, “none of us really have to do anything. I’m simply using my free will to, well...live in a world that I design. You’ll be by my side through it all,” he ranted, unbuttoning the sleeves of his white dress shirt and rolling them up. He stepped closer to me once again, closing all the space between us. His breath was warm against my neck as he sighed against my ear, “you’ll be my biggest achievement yet, my pet,” he whispered, causing me to flinch at his words. His fingers danced along my hips, coming dangerously close to the undergarments I was so graciously allowed to wear.
I tried to twist away from his touch, grunting as I pressed against the restraints. They made sure that I would have worse luck should I try to escape again. Multiple metal clasps hugged my arms, legs, and abdomen, but between the clasps, there was skin that he felt entitled to explore, “he’s going to kill you for this,” I warned him, knowing just how protective Tony was over me. He pulled away from me, narrowing his eyes at me as I saw the anger burning beneath them. Regardless of what he did to me, Tony was going to find joy in ending his life. He had already put my life in danger, and that was enough. The more Killian put me through, the worse his fate would be. I shook my head, still not wanting there to be anymore bloodshed. As long as he was breathing, there was a chance that he could change, and if I could bring that out of him, it was far better than the alternative, “you won’t walk away from it if you don’t give this up now. I don’t want anyone else to die because of this,” I stated, trying to plead with him. There was another road that he could take, a road that didn’t lead to death.
“He’s going to agree to work with me on this, or he is going to be the one to die. There’s no other alternative here, sweetheart,” he growled, dropping the condescending name once more. When Steve, Clint, Bruce, or Tony said it, it was meant to be endearing. We all had our nicknames for each other, but it never minimized the strength and ferocity that each of us embodied. Killian was using the name as a way to put himself above me, to gain power and control over me, especially after I argued against his use of the nickname. Small droplets of blood began to pool up at my feet as the stab wound he created only moments prior continued to bleed, “we need to make him agree by any means necessary, and you’re going to help me do that,” he insisted, his hand trailing up my hips and waist before ghosting them across my chest.
Upon seeing my face twist in disgust, he stepped directly in front of me, his hand locking around my throat as the other found the knife he used to attack my body already. He ran the blade along my face, the cool metal feeling like danger. A part of me was thirsty for it. I had done enough in my life to deserve the pain, to deserve the tears I would refuse to shed. I clenched my jaw, preparing myself for the worst. Nothing he could do to me would hurt more than what I’ve done to myself. I’d already torn my own soul to pieces, so he would own none of my pain, “I’ll never submit to you,” I choked out, continuing to taste the blood upon my tongue.
He chuckled, releasing my throat from his firm grasp and moving his hand to the back of my neck where he fisted my hair. He pulled my head back, leaving my neck completely vulnerable. He ran the cold blade along my neck, and I was left wondering if I’d pushed him too far. I continued to gasp for air as he spoke, “then I’ll be forced to use you to make Tony submit to me,” he mused, almost as if the thought of it left him in joyful anticipation. The knife disappeared from my skin for a moment before it was plunged into my body right below my ribs, knocking the wind right out of me. I was left gasping for air as his warm breath cascaded across my unguarded neck. I bit down hard on my bottom lip to keep myself from screaming, but that only angered him more, “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to hurt you...because I do. I want you to make you scream, and I want to hear you beg for your life. You represent something for Tony, and I’m starting to realize that the only way to break him is to first break you,” he hissed, twisting the knife as he plunged it even further into me, stopping only once the remainder of the blade was lodged into my body.
The effort it took to keep myself from screaming was exhausting. It reminded me of when I first began training with the sword. I knew what was expected of me, so I pushed myself harder than anyone else, wanting to prove that I was worthy of being a warrior of Asgard. I would end my day of training, hunched over, panting for breath, covered in sweat and tears. When I returned home, my father would tell me to bathe and prepare for another day of training that would take place the following day. This could be no different. I had to prepare myself for the pain that was to come, no matter how sore my body was, how weak my bones became, no matter how much I cried. I needed to do this for Tony...my final act of love. When he released my hair, I found Killian’s blue eyes and groaned through the pain, “my name...” I panted, trying to catch my breath, “is Eva, daughter of Aaldir. My father taught me many things, but he never taught me how to break. You may try, but you will fail.”
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*Tony’s POV*
I was seven years old when I sat on the back porch steps listening to my parents fight one another. My mom was upset about my dad’s “drinking problem,” but I didn’t know what that meant just yet. My dad had put on that familiar record that always left the shelf when Eva was visiting. It had some special significance to them. He’d turn it on and dance with her until the record had run its course. If they were still feeling playful, they’d flip the record to the other side, but if they were lost in each other, my father would continue to hold her close as they swayed back and forth to the sound of the smooth static. The vinyl static was a familiar sound, one that still echoed in my mind as an adult.
As my parents argued inside the house, I had used that familiar sound to drown out my dad’s booming voice. He always knew how to command a room. The door behind me that led out onto the back porch opened, causing the muffled sound to feel like it was even closer than before, like the loud voices of my parents would wrap me in a vice grip and suffocate me. Once the door closed, I listened to her soft footsteps padding along the oak deck. Without a single word, she lowered herself onto the steps right next to me, her mere presence acting like a moment of peace in the chaos. She put me at ease, much like my mother did after her and my dad argued. However, Eva was the calm during the storm, not just after the storm. I felt her eyes on me, saddened by the animosity that seemed to live in that house. I turned my attention over to her, meeting her eyes, “why can’t you just take me with you when you leave?”
She forced a smile, but even as a child, I saw that it was still filled with sorrow, “some days it’s a thought that stays on my mind...like today,” she answered, glancing back at the house where the argument was only escalating. It wouldn’t be long before things were broken. My dad only knew how to fix things because he was a master at breaking them.
“Then do it!” I exclaimed, desperate to leave the only place I’d ever really known.
A light chuckle escaped her lips, and she looked out at the backyard that could easily fit an entire football field before it reached the forest tree line. The sun's rays caught her locks of dark brown hair, and made some of the strands look like liquid gold. Sunlight reflected in her green eyes, making them look even more vibrant than before. No man had ever seen such a green throughout human history. It was more pure than the emerald that sat in the center of a ring my father wore on his right hand, a ring he never took off even when he was working. It was a ring that was left to me when he died, but I never felt right wearing it, so it sat in my workshop. Her voice sounded like water maneuvering the rocks of a creek in the middle of a forest, smooth and light, “your place isn’t in Asgard, it’s here on Earth,” she spoke, her eyes landing on me once more, “I see grand, important things in your future, little one, and I’m afraid that Asgard wouldn’t be able to offer you the same drive you’ll get while you’re here. You belong here.”
“But you’re there. I belong with you!” I argued, hoping that she’d see my desperation and give in. I wanted to explore, to see the world she came from. It sounded magical. Plus, my two favorite people were on Asgard, and I would’ve given anything, even as a child, to be surrounded by the love they brought me, “you and Loki could take care of me!” I insisted as I watched the frown overcome her face. Even in her sadness, she looked like an angel. That was how I always saw her, too. She was my guardian angel, the one who acted as my shield, the one who built my foundation and made me strong.
“And I want you to be with me, too,” she confessed as memories of a time I wasn’t a part of flashed before her eyes. It was like watching a movie, but I could only see the silhouettes of the characters. She smiled as one fond memory in particular touched her heart, “you have two parents here who love you, Anthony, and it would be unfair for me to take you away.”
I shook my head, tears filling my eyes as my bottom lip quivered. I didn’t want to cry, but if it ended up happening, I never felt ashamed when I cried with Eva. She knew how to comfort me better than anyone else. All she would do was wrap her arms around me, encasing me in an embrace that left me with a similar feeling of walking inside to escape the cold only to find that the fireplace was already lit. It was the kind of warmth that surrounded you and removed the chill from your bones the moment you felt it. In her arms, I felt safe. That safety and security left whenever she did, “but you could love me more,” I realized aloud. I had no doubt that my mom loved me, but I must’ve come at a time in their lives when having a child just wasn’t convenient. They were busy people, and when I was “lucky” enough to see them, their conversations would almost always end in an argument.
“I’ll always love you more,” she promised as she smiled down at me. She reached her hair up and stroked my hair back, her fingers running smoothly through the hair as she’d brushed out all the tangles shortly before my parents began their argument. My eyes fluttered closed, the feeling of her strong, gentle hands being ones I fell asleep to most nights. She would sit on the edge of the bed and rub my temple until I fell asleep as she sang a familiar lullaby. She always showed up even if it was just for a few hours when I was sad or sick, wanting to comfort me, and it was what made me love her more and more, “you’re my little warrior, my little hero, my whole world,” she revealed, pressing a kiss against my forehead. She lingered there for a long moment, almost as if she was trying to will away my sadness. If only it were that easy. When she pulled away, a playful grin spread across her lips, “besides, if I ever do take you to Asgard, you’ll have to learn how to fight!”
Before I knew it, she was up and running. Eva was far faster than me, and my little legs could only move so fast. It was clear to me now that she slowed down to allow me to keep up with her. When I saw her destination-the pile of branches my father and I had gathered earlier that day for the campfire Loki would be present for-I pushed myself even faster, knowing exactly what she was going to do. She allowed me to overtake her, and I picked up the first branch, readying myself to use it as my “sword.” She dove past me, tucking her body into a roll and grabbing a branch before gracefully pushing herself back up onto her feet. The way she moved was mesmerizing, which was something I never fully appreciated until I “met” her as an adult.
She blocked every one of my swings, and I blocked each of hers, neither one of us daring to swing our branches too hard at the other for fear of causing harm. While I threw my body into each swing, using my childlike brute force, Eva had a much different approach. She stepped out of the way, using her makeshift sword as if it were a dance partner, and she was leading the way. Every move was fluid. Her hair-the top section of which was braided back out of her face-flowed like a waterfall of dark chocolate. It was like a scene from a movie. Laughter emitted from both of us, hers sounding like a song in the background of my life, a melody that played during my happiest moments.
When I lunged at her for the last time, she disarmed me, tossing both out branches back down onto the ground before lifting me up into her arms. My legs locked around her waist, and she supported my weight with her strong arms. She swayed back and forth with me, rubbing circles into my back with her free hand as she hummed the melody I knew by heart, “shadows are falling, and I’m running out of breath. Keep me in your heart for a while. If I leave you, it doesn’t mean I love you any less. Keep me in your heart for a while,” she sang the song she always did to me. Her voice was ethereal and featherlight. Each word was filled to the brim with emotion. She continued humming, the sound making the birds stop their music-making and listen. Whenever she sang, the world became quiet as if it were drinking in the mystical essence of her voice.
As she continued to sway back and forth with me, I wrapped my arms around her neck, resting my head on her shoulder, “I miss you when you leave,” I spoke, knowing that no matter how tightly I held her, it was never enough to make her stay. She always left, but she always came back, too.
“And I miss you even more, little one,” she replied, her voice filled with the same premature grief that I felt. We both knew that she would be leaving later that night. Being away from each other was always the hard part. I lifted my head from her shoulder and faced her, our eyes locking, “when I leave you, each night, I rearrange the moon and stars in the sky so that they watch over you when you’re sleeping. I put them there to watch over you throughout the night, so whenever you feel lonely, if you look up at the night sky, you’ll find me there amongst the stars. You may not always see me, but I’m always there. As long as you keep me in your heart, I’m never far away,” she added, resting her forehead against my own.
“Do you look at them when you miss me?”
“Every night,” she answered with a nod, “and when I fall asleep, I dream about moments like this...moments when I can hold the world in my arms.”
Another blood-curdling scream pulled me from my beautiful memory. It was Eva. I had no doubt in my mind. The last thing I could remember was discovering that the Mandarin was a fake-a decoy for the real perpetrator: Killian. Eva and I had been ambushed by Savin and a few of the other juiced up security guards that Killian had hiding around the compound. Next thing I knew, I was zip-tied to an upright metal bed frame, forced to listen to the pained screams of the one person who deserved none of it. I should’ve known not to go until she was ready. I should’ve taken what she said seriously. When she told me that she was feeling weak, I should’ve taken it to heart and waited. There was a time limit, but I also could’ve just done this on my own. I could’ve left her out of it, and maybe, my conscience would’ve been clear. I didn’t minimize the risk. I should’ve fought her all the way, forced her to stay in Asgard somehow. Instead, I asked her to choose me, and she did. She always chose me. Therefore, every ounce of her pain...it was on me.
In the room that felt like it was straight out of a movie-the typical “super villain lair”-were the two security guards who-on their last visit-dragged Maya’s body out of the room. With her sudden change of heart and threat to take her own life unless Killian let me go, he decided to shoot her instead. Before that, she had watched in terror as Killian forced me to look upon the hologram of Eva’s beaten and pained state. Upon seeing her, it tore my heart in two. Blood was smeared across her body, and she looked to be in so much physical and emotional pain. I tried as hard as I could to get him to stay in the room with me instead of going back to her, knowing that she was probably formulating a plan at that very moment. My final act of selfless love I felt for her would be to buy her enough time to escape. I was prepared for all the pain in the world, knowing that the more time he spent on me, the less time he would have with Eva. It would give her the chance to escape.
He didn’t stay, though. Instead, he returned to Eva, and I was forced to listen. The desperation he wanted to leave me with was almost as strong as the unrelenting guilt I felt as every scream echoed through the compound. Even the security guards flinched at the sound, but they couldn’t possibly understand what it was doing to me. I fought back the tears, but they presented themselves so often that my eyes began burning. The only sound in the room-aside from those echoed screams and the sounds of me struggling to free myself-was the light shifting of the security guards’ positions. One sat at the same desk Maya had been sitting at, but his chair was turned to face me. The other guard sat on three concrete stairs that led up to the platform the desk was on. If I listened to those light shifts intently enough, there was the potential that it would drown out Eva’s desperate pleas, and perhaps, it would take the place of them in the nightmares that would follow should I survive.
The screams finally stopped, and a part of me feared that her body had finally given way, that she was finally at peace. It was the most selfish part of me that wished for her to live, even if it was in excruciating pain, because at least I wouldn’t have to know what life was like without her. The other part of me-the selfless part-was the part that loved her the most, and it was the part that would’ve been understanding should she have given into the painless rest that she never had in life. Still, the absence of her screams worried me even more than the screams themselves. My hands began to shake, and I felt my heart racing. This was it. I was going to die. It was never how I anticipated it. I always thought that my death would be doing something stupid, something reckless, or maybe...just maybe, I’d get to die a hero. I’d get to die how Eva lived-selflessly, gracefully, lovingly, heroically. She always saw the hero in me, but that was there because I found my hero in her. As a boy, I remember wanting to be like her, and nothing changed even once I became a man.
The thought of losing her, of being utterly alone, had a physically impact on my body. My bones felt cold, and my chest felt hollow. The mere thought of having to live my life without her was so much different than I expected. I expected there to be pain, but it was the lack of everything that made it hurt. It was the lack of joy, of happiness, of love. I knew what the good stuff was because of her, and without her, my life would’ve been void of that. As my mind raced with thoughts of what my life would look like without her as a steady part of it, my heart continued to grow more and more barren. A part of me even wondered if it would’ve just been easier should I have never known her, which would be the equivalent of never knowing the sunset, never feeling those last rays of light against your skin before the chill of that moonlit air. A clap of Killian’s hands pulled me from my darkening thoughts, and when he saw the fear in my eyes, he smirked, “don’t worry, she’s still alive...much to her dismay, I might add,” he noted, almost as if he was taunting me.
Upon seeing the vibrant red blood that was splattered all over his clothes and hands, I narrowed my eyes at him, dreaming of the million ways I could kill him, “you better kill me now because when I get out of this, you’re gonna see why we call ourselves the Avengers,” I warned him, a part of me wishing that he would take me up on my offer. Even the most brutal death would prove to be much less painful than listening to her cries. Another part of me wanted to live long enough to kill him.
A laugh escaped his lips as he closed the space between us, walking down the cement stairs from the platform that led to the hallway he appeared from. Once he stood in front of me, I saw right through his calm and collected facade and witnessed the same madness I’d seen in Loki once. Killian reached out and locked a vice grip around my throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off all air flow. The blood on his hand made it slippery, but as I tried to maneuver away from him, his grip only tightened. He brought his face closer to mine before leaning into my ear, “by the time I’m done with her, they’ll be nothing left for you to avenge,” he whispered, finally releasing my throat. I pulled in a ragged breath, the air causing a stinging sensation on the way to my lungs.
His words terrified me. I knew that was his goal, but I didn’t want to call his bluff. I couldn’t call his bluff when Eva’s life was at stake. As I flinched at his words, visibly shaken by them, he laughed at the fear it brought me, “besides, it’s nice to have an audience,” he noted, turning away from me,“it’s a truly magnificent thing, isn’t it? I have control over something so powerful, so...beautiful. An Asgardian who is at my disposal. I can do whatever I want. With the snap of my fingers, I could kill her. This could be you, Tony. You have no idea what this power feels like! Imagine having an Asgardian as your puppet, your plaything, your pet. You could have any woman you wanted, but you never fawned after her. No woman even looked my way. None of them even gave me a parting glance. Now, I’m free to take whatever I want from this goddess of a woman, and no one can stop me!” he exclaimed, making me feel sick to my stomach.
The thought of him defiling her body, shaming her in ways she should never know, it made my stomach turn. I wanted to argue against him, threaten him, tell him that if he laid a finger on her, I’d cut them off one by one while listening to him scream. Knowing that it would only lead to more damage, I decided to make the wise decision instead of the erratic, emotional one, “you want me to help you fix the serum? Let her go, and I’ll do whatever you want,” I promised, ready to sacrifice everything for her. My reputation, my name, my legacy-none of it meant a thing without her. I would throw away my life if it meant that she got to continue hers. I knew that if she heard my words, she would’ve argued against them and fought me to the very end. If I sacrificed my life for her, she was so stubborn that she’d find a way to bring me back just to kill me for being so “reckless.”
He shook his head, scoffing at my proposal, “no, you see, that’s not how this works,” he replied, turning back around to face me. He gestured between the two of us, “you don’t get to make the demands in this situation. You’re the one tied to a bed. You do what I say, or both of you die!” he exclaimed, stressing his point to me. He turned on his heel and walked back up the stairs, making his way toward the hallway where Eva’s screams would continue. It was as if he was solely coming to taunt me, to see what her torture was doing to me. It was sadistic. As he walked away, the hot tears of shame burned my eyes, and the lump in my throat rose. There was nothing I could do. I knew that if I gave in and helped him, he’d kill Eva anyway. The only possibility of her living was if I could get him to let her go or if a miracle would happen, and we managed to escape. He turned back to me once more before disappearing down the darkened hallway, “and you better make your decision soon because I’m an impatient man. You have as long as she keeps me entertained. When I get bored, I’ll make you sit and watch what I do to her. If you haven’t heard, she’s quite the screamer, Tony. You’ve been missing out, but I’ll give you a show you’ll never forget,” he laughed before he began his slow descent into the hallway.
“You hurt her, and you’re dead!” I boomed, my voice echoing through the halls as I struggled to free myself just as I had time and time again, but nothing changed. All that happened was that I pulled the attention of the two security guards in the room.
“Too late,” Killian called back to me, completely disappearing into the darkness. The hallways swallowing him into the building, and I wondered how long it would be this time. Last time, it was twelve seconds from the time he disappeared to the first scream that cut through my heart like a knife.
I closed my eyes and threw my head back, a tear finally escaping and streaming down my cheek. One Mississippi. This was my fault. Two Mississippi. It was all my fault. Three Mississippi. If she didn’t already hate me, she would when it was over. Four Mississippi. I’d never forgive myself for this. Five Mississippi. Even if she lived to forgive me, I didn’t deserve it. Six Mississippi. How would I tell her about Eva without Eva? Seven Mississippi. How could I live without the light? Eight Mississippi. How could the world carry on turning without her? Nine Mississippi. What if I never got to hold her again? Ten Mississippi. Or tell her exactly how I feel? Eleven Mississippi. What if she never knew just how much I loved her? Twelve Mississippi. Or how lucky I felt to have her in my life? Thirteen Mississippi. What if she became just a beautiful memory? Fourteen-
A scream caused me to flinch, my mouth pulling into a permanent frown. My eyes shot open as I stared down the hallway, tears blurring my vision. Fourteen seconds. I wished for death or for a miracle. I wished for the chance to apologize. Knowing Eva the way I did, I knew that she didn’t even need an apology to forgive me for the mess I pulled us into. Knowing Eva, she’d tell me that there was no reason for me to be apologizing, that it wasn’t my fault, that I was only doing my best. I tried to imagine the warmth of her touch, the way her fingers felt like silk against my skin. I tried to imagine her forehead pressed against my own, how each time, I felt safe, protected, secure.
A crack of thunder pulled me from my thoughts.
Killian pushed the wrong man to desperation.
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booksfornamjoon · 6 years
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BTS’ lyrics as Nietzsche’s aphorisms (Part II)
· You can check part I in here ·
Of all the literary influences that characterize, directly or indirectly, the discography of BTS, Nietzsche – like Schopenhauer and C.G. Jung–, are continuously present in what we could call Bangtan’s world philosophy. The imaginary that surrounds their compositions, of high symbolic and conceptual complexity, establishes relations with the works of universal literature and manages to connect and approach, uniting the educated discourse with the mainstream discourse, an audience of all kinds. For instance, one of those works is Beyond Good and Evil, written by Friederich Nietzsche in 1886. In the aphorisms included in this book (Chapter IV, entitled Maxims and Interludes) we can see to what extent the lyrics of BTS drink from the philosophy of this author, considered one of the most important thinkers of the nineteenth century.
79 ·  A soul which knows that it is loved but which does not love itself reveals its bottom layers - its deepest stuff comes up.
It’s my fate. Don’t smile to me, lie to me, because I can’t get closer to you, there’s no name you can call me. You know that I can’t: show you me, give you me; I can’t show you a ruined part of myself, once again I put a mask on and go to see you, but I still want you (The Truth Untold). 
80 ·  A matter which is explained ceases to concern us. - What does that god mean who advised "Know thyself"? Does that not perhaps mean "Stop being concerned about yourself! Become objective!" - And Socrates? - And the "scientific man"?-
Who says a dream must be something grand, just become anybody. We deserve a life, whatever big or small, you are you after all (Paradise).
81 ·  It is dreadful to die of thirst in the sea. Must you then salt your truth so much that it can no longer - quench your thirst?
I just started walking and ended up at the sea. I’m looking at the coast from here, there’s endless sand and the rough wind, but I’m looking at a desert. I wanted to have the sea so I swallowed you up, but I’m even thirstier than before. Is what I know really the ocean? Or a blue desert? (Sea). 
82 ·  "Pity for everyone" - that would be hard and tyrannical for you, my neighbour.
Follow the sound of the pipe, follow this song It’s a bit dangerous but I’m so sweet. I’m here to save you, I’m here to ruin you. You called me, see? I’m so sweet. Follow the sound of the pipe..., I’m takin’ over you (Pied Piper).
83 ·  Instinct - when the house is burning, people forget even their noonday meal. - Indeed, but people later haul it out of the ashes.
When you called me I became your flower. As if we were waiting, we bloom until we ache (Jimin, Serendipity).
88 ·  We begin to mistrust very clever people when they become embarrassed.
Gonna breathe a little slower, cuz my life and my rap, they’re usually too fast (RM, Forever Rain).  
89 ·  Dreadful experiences lead one to wonder whether the person who undergoes them is not something dreadful.
On the other side of the famous idol rapper stands my weak self, it’s a bit dangerous. Depression, OCD, they keep coming back again from time to time. Hell no, perhaps that might be my true self, Damn, huh, feeling estranged in reality, the conflict with ideal, my head hurts (Suga, The Last).
90 ·  Heavy, melancholy men become lighter precisely through what makes other people heavy, through hate and love, and for a while come to their surface.
I collect myself that's shattered beneath the moonlight. I call you moonchild. We are the children of the moon. I breathe the cold night air: yes, we're livin' and dyin' at the same time (V & RM, 4 O’CLOCK).
91 ·  So cold, so icy that we burn our fingers on him! Every hand that grasps him pulls back! - And for that very reason some assume he's glowing hot.
Kiss me on the lip, lips. This is a secret between the two of us. I am addicted to the prison that is you, I cannot worship anyone else besides you, I knowingly drank from the poisoned chalice (Blood, Sweat & Tears).
92 ·  For the sake of his good reputation who has not once - sacrificed himself?
Even if I’m slow I will walk with my own feet, because I know this path is mine to take. Even if I go back, I will reach this path eventually. I never, I will never, I will never lose my dream (Lost).
94 ·  Maturity in a man: that means having found once again that seriousness which man had as a child, in play.
I don’t have biceps or pecs, I don’t have a super car like Batman, the ideal hero is my fantasy, but all I can give you is Anpan. I’ve dreamed of becoming a hero like Superman, I ran with all my strength, jumping high up in the sky. I’m not afraid of little things like bruising my knees, innocent fantasies of my childhood (Anpanman).
95 ·  For someone to be ashamed of his immorality: that is a step on the staircase at the end of which he is also ashamed of his morality.
I am still the same person I was before. I am here, the same person I was from before, but an overgrown lie is trying to swallow me whole (Jimin, Lie).
97 ·  What? A great man? I always see only the actor of his own ideal.
Rappers who act arrogant, my flow job that takes them all and toys around with them. If you try to damage me with simple words like that I only become stronger (Suga, J-Hope, RM & Supreme Boi, Cypher Part 3).
98 ·  If we train our conscience, it will kiss us at the very moment it bites us.
Yes I hate you, you left me, but I never stopped thinking about you, not even a day. Honestly, I miss you, but I’ll erase you, because it hurts less than to blame you. I try to exhale you in pain, like smoke, like white smoke. I say that I’ll erase you, but I can’t really let you go yet (Spring Day).
99 ·  The disappointed man speaks: - "I listened for the echo, and I heard only praise -"
Me, a shadow behind the stage. Me, in the depth of darkness. I didn’t want to show everything including my pain, but because I’m still unaccustomed I just wanted to make you smile, I wanted to do good, so thanks. Believing in someone like me, dealing with these tears and wounds, so thanks for becoming my light, for becoming the flower in the most beautiful moment in life (2!3! Still Wishing For More Good Days).
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