#don’t get me wrong I love character death it is right up my angst goblin alley but.. explanations. they all have explanations. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

realcube · 3 years

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comfort with the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💝

characters: kenma, bokuto, ushijima, tsukishima, akaashi

thanks to anon for the request (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

ALL AGED UP! (no mature themes though) (i just like the post-timeskip domestic dynamics)

tw// hurt! reader, swearing, mentions of death, fluff, angst if you squint

Kenma Kuzome

bb has cat senses so he can tell when you’re sad

he can also tell bc you do the exact same thing he does when he’s sad, which is cuddle underneath blankets in bed, play animal crossing and blare lo-fi music to conceal your faint sobs

so when he walks into your shared room and notices you wrapped up in blankets on the bed, he does his best to suppress a snicker whicH HE FEELS SO BAD FOR HAVING IN THE FIRST PLACE

like he knows you’re sad but a part of his mind is just like ‘heh, (y/n) burrito.’ like you just look sO FKN CUTE!!

anyway, the first thing he always does when you’re down is approach you on the bed, sneak under the blankets and join to you to become a (y/n) & kenma burrito

also, he might turn the speaker off depending on how loud the music is lol but if it’s at an okay volume then he’ll just leave it on and vibe with you for a bit as he desperately wracks his brain, trying to come up with something reassuring to say

you usually comes up with the something basic like, ‘what’s wrong?’ but i mean, you don’t really mind - at least he’s making an effort and you know it must be difficult for him to think of things to say lol

depending on how sad you are, you might just tell him straight-up what happened or you might text him bc you don’t think you’ll be able to choke out an answer without bursting into tears again

then he’ll ask you if you want to be alone and act accordingly

assuming that you say ‘no’ bc you want his presence, he’ll just recollect on the last time you comforted him while he was down and mimic it tbh

..you always comfort him so well 🥺 and whenever you console him, he always feels so much better so he just thought that maybe if he imitates you, then it’ll work just as well

so he started off by resting his head on your shoulder and whispering kind things in your ear just like you did to him, ‘you know i love you, right?’ , ‘i hope you feel better soon’, ‘do you want me to bring you some food?’

he’ll seriously do everything in his power to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible

and he’ll stay as a (y/n) & kenma burrito until you feel better or until the sun rises ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰)

Kōtarō Bokuto

i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again - he’s such an empath and so overdramatic

so when he comes home from work and you don’t run up to the door to give him hugs & kisses- he’s about to burst into tears himself

so he sulks up to your room now IMAGINE HOW SHOCKED HE IS WHEN HE WALKS IN TO SEE YOU CRYING UNDER THE BLANKETS

emo-mode engaged :(

his hair deflates as he pounces on you and wails, ‘(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO HURT YOU?!’ (ಥ _ ಥ)

and the bitch dives on you while you are under the blanket, essentially scaring and suffocating you

‘bokuto, get off me!’ you shrieked, wriggling out of his grip and out from under the blanket

when he notices you had escaped the blanket with tear-stained cheeks, he felt even worse

he threw himself into your arms, howling, ‘(Y/N)!! I AM SO SORRY!’

at this point all the blood had rushed to your head and you had kinda forgotten that you were sad for a moment or two

‘bo! you should know you’re own strength by now.’ you muttered, rubbing the underneaths off your puffy eyes

‘I KNOW!’ he wailed once more, burying his face into the crook of your neck

you sighed while rubbing his back, unable to supress a slight giggle, ‘bokuto..’

there was ages of silence between the two of you before he pulled away to look you in the eyes and asked, ‘(y/n), why were you crying before i got here?’

you’d explain the issue to him and he’d do everything in his power to solve it because the way he sees it, why should he try console you when he can just fix the variable that’s making you sad in the first place?

like, if you were just fired from your job, he’ll go full karen and he will call corporate to demand for your job back if you don’t stop him

or if your loved one died, he’ll become a fkn medium or study resurrection

or if you’re just stressed from exams/tests, he’ll just be like ‘why do you need to go to uni anyway?’

‘so i can get a qualification.’

‘why do you need that?’

‘so i can apply for a job.’

‘why do you need a job?’

‘so i can make money, so i don’t starve.’

‘you can have my money!’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at how much life-experience bokuto had, yet he will still so naïve; honestly, you couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not. ‘what if we break up?-”

“DON’T SAY THAT!” he gasped, instinctively tightening his grip on you

Wakatoshi Ushijima

both you and ushijima’s pride did not allow y’all to cry in front of one another

if you ever had to cry, you’d just run to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the tap to drown out the sound of your sobs and just let it all out

and if he ever had to cry, he’d just do it in the shower

but like- you both knew when the other one had been crying because of their puffy, damp eyes but you both mutually agreed to not mention it

i mean, up until now y’all had both been able to flourish in the relationship while dealing with emotions on your own so why bother changing?

and if anything, you both felt more comfortable crying to yourselves

that was, until today

you had cracked under the pressure of your job - you were simply sitting at your desk in the study room, doing some work then it all just came crashing down

ushijima had just stepped out of the shower in his towel and was currently wandering around the house in search of you, to inform you that he ran out of shampoo so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to add it to the shopping list

but when he entered the study to see you sitting there by your computer, bawling you eyes out..he froze

like he had to do a whole double-take bc he wasn’t sure if he was seeing this correctly

your face was buried in your hands so you didn’t notice him at first but then you heard him awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway and your neck immediately jerked to look at him

it was quite embarrassing for the both of you, ngl

like he was standing there half-naked, staring into your red eyes in hopes that what he saw was just a hallucination

after what felt like hours of deafening silence, ushijima broke it by muttering under his breath, ‘uh, is everything okay?’

‘everything is fine, toshi.’ you replied, forcing a bright smile onto your face as you went back to typing, ‘did you come down here to tell me somethi--’

‘i can tell that there is something wrong.’ he stated, walking towards you while using one had to hold his towel in place and draping the other over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. ‘do you want to tell me?’

you let out a long sigh, resting your cheek against his chest while still staring at the many tabs you had open on your desktop

but ushijima quickly fixed that by taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finger, then turning your face to look up at him,

‘work?’ he hummed his assumption

‘yeah.’ you mumbled, quite surprised at how understanding he was being

but then again, ushijima obviously knows what it feels like to be overworked and burnt out too, so he was able to provide a lot of empathy in that sense

Kei Tsukishima

ok a bit of tsukki slander but i feel like tsukishima would make it worse WEILUBRGBE

wait no well, he doesn’t make it worse but he doesn’t make it better either

like he’ll walk into the living room and see you curled up under a blanket on the couch, lightly sobbing from underneath- and he honestly doesn’t know how to act

this is the first time he’s seen you cry bc usually y’all keep your emotions to yourselves - you’re both v independent like that （￣︶￣)

anyway, mans thinks he can just tease the sadness out of you 🙄

‘awh, is my little couch goblin feeling sad?’ he said shakily, clearly intimidated by your figure lying on the couch, and you could tell he was nervous per his use of the nickname ‘couch goblin’

‘‘TSUKISHIMA, FUCK OFF!’ you barked, hastily wiping away your tears and clinging to blanket to prevent him from pulling it away, as the last thing you wanted him to see was your weary figure just so he could tease you about it

‘bitch, i live here.’ he hissed, rubbing the back of his neck - feeling rather conflicted

on one hand, you seemed serious when you asked him to leave; plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable by staying when you’re already sad

but on the other hand, he genuinely wanted to help

he’d feel bad if he were to just leave his s/o in tears when he could’ve done something to make you feel better

‘do you really want me to go?’ he asked and for a change, not a hint of mockery or sarcasm was found in his voice

there were several moments of silence until you mumbled from under your blanket, ‘no.’ then proceeded to lift up your arm to allow him to crawl under the blanket and join you

he did so, pulling you against his chest so you could sob lightly against his cotton shirt while being engulfed by warm darkness

‘what could’ve possibly went wrong to make the evilest blanket demon cry?’

‘evilest blanket demon’ - that was definitely a new one, and you’d be lying if you said a small snicker didn’t escape your mouth at how monotonously he was able to deliver such a unique nickname

and after years of being in a relationship with tsukki, you’ve learned to find comfort in these nicknames considering they were a big part of how he expressed love

in his vocabulary, ‘you’re so annoying.’ is equal to ‘i love you’

so him calling you an ‘evil blanket demon’ was, in his eyes, the highest and most sincere form of flattery

you eventually tell him what happened that made you sad and he just listens

feel free to ramble on about anything/everything that’s worried you for the last few months bc he’s all ears

he figured that other than make you dinner and hug you, that was the best thing he could do to help bc he was far from a romantic who’s good with words

if he tries to console you verbally it would probably come out like ‘uh, don’t cry - i understand what you’re going through, i think, but like- cry if you want. this must be tough for you, to be honest.’

so he just listens to what you have to say and occasionally inputs a lil’ ‘mhm’ or ‘yeah’

he’s probably the most patient with you so you could stay sad on the couch for the next few weeks, as long as you’re eating the meals he delivers to you and you’re staying healthy, he’ll just let you mope until you feel better tbh

Keiji Akaashi

boyfie material right here

i’m hardly an akaashi simp but he’s probably the best at comforting you while you’re sad tbh

because he’s literally been dealing with bokuto and his emo-mode for god-knows how long so he’s very good with reassuring people😌

also, i just know that this man can detect emotions so well- evEN THROUGH TEXT ISTG

he’d text you the usual ‘goodnight ❤’

and you’ll quickly wipe away your tears that were blurring your vision to reply ‘goodnight 💕’

then he’ll deadass text back like ‘i’m coming over. what’s wrong?’

HE JUST KNOWS!! don’t question it bc he doesn’t even have a logical answer lol

anyway, he’ll arrive and immediately begin with the reassurance before you even tell him what’s wrong

‘you’re coping so well, (y/n).’

‘i’m so proud and i love you so much.’

‘is there anything i can do to make you feel better?’

‘would you like a hug?’

‘you’re beautiful, (y/n). i hope you know that.’

‘do you want me to get you ice-cream?’

a king- 👑

also, you weren’t embarrassed to cry in front of him either bc you had seen him cry before

plus, y’all both established at the very beginning of the relationship that you’d both try be as honest and open with your emotions as possible

so now, you were both sitting beside each other on your bed while sharing a banana split that akaashi made (you put the sprinkles on though so you basically gave it flavour ✨)

akaashi is definitely the therapist friend to so he gives great advice

but if you don’t want his advice and you’d prefer him to just listen, then he can do that too

honestly, he’d do basically anything to make you feel better 🥺

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orionsangel86 · 5 years

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“I Think It’s Time For Me To Move On”

...And Other Things That Have Destroyed Me This Weekend...

So there is this common trope within love stories which generally happens at the end of the second act in which everything goes wrong and we all think that the lovers are doomed to failure. Its pretty much standard in every Jane Austen novel, every romantic film every made, every single bloody love story. Go ahead, name one. I guarantee you the break up moment is there.

Within the epic love story of Dean and Cas, there have been many break up moments, and all have had their emotionally devastating impact on the relationship and the show...

But THIS was a different level.

(For a nice summary of Destiel break up moments and understanding of this trope, @tinkdw wrote about it here.)

I didn’t think that there would be another moment within Dean and Cas’s relationship that could hit me this hard. The mixtape in 12x19, the wrapping of Cas’s body in 13x01, and the return of Cas in 13x05 are moments that I consider to be the very top of the scale in making this pairing undeniably romantic. Moments that pushed it beyond a platonic interpretation. These three moments have been the things I cling to when the show has otherwise made me doubt any conclusion to the DeanCas story, and since there hasn’t been another one of those moments since 13x05, until now I have been somewhat nervous that the story was dropped, or being forced back behind a platonic screen.

15x03 has ripped that screen away.

Emotional meta under cut...

This entire episode was an emotion fuelled dramatic roller-coaster that killed off three characters including our beloved witch queen in a scene that almost stole the show and practically canonised the SamWitch ship. Rowena’s death should have been by far the most torturous moment for viewers to endure, and it was extremely torturous and had me sobbing on a plane 3 hours into a 7 hour flight. That incredibly heartfelt moment between Sam and Rowena will probably go down as one of the top tear-jerking moments on this show. It was tragic in the best way - the way Supernatural is famous for.

But lets not gloss over the fact that in an episode where THAT should have been the climax, where THAT should have been the emotional highlight and end point, instead we get a further MORE dramatic stand off between Dean and Cas that pulled focus and ripped all of our hearts out just as violently as poor Ketch in the first act (a very clever and smug piece of meta foreshadowing there Mr Berens).

On a meta level, this is HUGE as a writing choice because they MUST know how this looks. This was the climax of the third episode of the finale season. The way Supernatural has always structured itself since Carver era is that the first three mytharc episodes of each season establish the direction of the story and set the foundations for the character level focal points and dramatic key notes to come.

That the writers have chosen to end the foundation episodes with a DeanCas break up moment that was more dramatic than a Spanish Telenovela has just stunned me and left me reeling because I just can’t see how else this can go. This break up scene absolutely DEMANDS a huge reconciliation of the sort that will be part of the A plot of the season - the FINAL SEASON. Guys. Part of the reason I have been so quiet and so disillusioned with the show during late season 13 and season 14 was because they pushed any Destiel plot into non existent territory - it became kinda irrelevant and Dean and Cas just acted like friends (homoerotic friends yes, and sometimes like an old married couple, but it was mostly played as an afterthought imo), so for this to suddenly be brought to the forefront of the emotional story again is excellent news for us.

The thing is, like with those huge moments I listed above, the break up scene is basically undeniably romantic when you break it down to its components:

1. It’s only Dean and Cas.

Once again we have another scene of high stake emotions that excludes Sam. In a platonic reading of the show, it makes zero sense for there to be such a hugely disjointed relationship between Cas and Dean and Cas and Sam given he has known them both for so long now that if they were all “just friends” then surely Sam would also feel the impact of Cas’s choices as heavily as Dean. In a platonic reading, Dean comes across as an asshole, Sam comes across as being weirdly uncaring about his friend of 10 years, and Cas comes across as not even bothering to get Sam’s opinion before leaving. A romantic reading makes sense because quite literally THIS IS A ROMANTIC BREAK UP.

2. The words spoken.

“Well I don’t think there is anything left to say.”

“I think it’s time for me to move on”

From Cas’s perspective at least, name one time in a piece of media where such language has been used for a platonic breakup sincerely? There have been heartfelt break up songs that use these exact words. (I should know I’ve spent the last 24 hours listening to them all).

That last line in particular is so heavy. It’s the last line of the episode and nothing about it is platonic. This is relationship terminology my dudes. “I need to move on, and get over you.” This is Cas’s bloody Adele song. My heart breaks for him, but if I was his sassy and fabulous best girlfriend right now I’d be sitting him down, sipping a cocktail, flipping my hair and telling him “Babe, you’re too good for him. Good Riddance. Let’s go out, have some cocktails, something pink and fruity. No dive bars for us darling. I’ll take you to Heaven... the fun one in London.”

In all seriousness though, from Cas’s perspective, this was him admitting defeat and giving up the fight for love. How anyone can possibly say Cas isn’t in love with Dean after this, well I just don’t know what show you are watching. This is the face of a heartbroken man who has just accepted that his love is unrequited.

3. The many faces of Dean Winchester

On the other end of the scale, Dean was mostly silent after his poisonous words “And why does that something always seem to be you?”

Forgive the terrible gif quality I’ve no time for fancy gif work!

Look at his face here. He knows what he said was fucked up and he immediately regrets it. The way he swallows around that regret and then turns away.

and after Cas says that devastating final line and walks away? We get THIS reaction from him:

The jaw clench as he looks down. The sorrow on his face as he realises he has well and truly fucked this up. LOOK

Finally, he looks up, makes himself look up and watch Cas leave. If that isn’t the face of a broken man I dunno what to tell you. Anyone who thinks Dean is totally heartless and uncaring right now needs to reassess because this is NOT the face of someone uncaring. This is the face of someone who has just lost everything. Again.

4. The FUCKING MUSIC

Seriously. The sweeping heavy drama of the low strings that come in right after Dean says that horrid line, that carry the weight of the look of horror and heartbreak on Cas’s face as they amplify the emotion there. As they blend seamlessly into the slow and subtle version of the Winchester family theme behind Cas’s heartbreaking speech and Dean’s stubborn stoic face hiding a multitude of emotion, until the violin dominates as Cas says “I think it’s time for me to move on” and the Winchester Theme swells to its climax, ripping all our hearts out just like poor Ketch as Dean watches Cas walk out of his life surrounded by darkness.

I MEAN.

A friend on Twitter reminded us all of this point about the importance of this theme via @justanotheridijiton here which is essentially:

“The Winchester theme is not simply an aural marker to let the audience know when and how Sam and Dean love each other (any Supernatural fan knows that is the baseline of their relationship), but to provide narrative information, especially when the image and dialogue are incomplete or inconsistent with the true situation... Seasoned fans will recognize the theme and its history of being paired with images indicating deep emotional bonding and a desire to do the right thing by the Winchester code. Here we trust our ears over our eyes to reveal the truth.”

So here is yet another key indicator that any surface read that this is actually an ending between Dean and Cas and that Dean really is just an angry asshole is utter bullshit.

Honestly, this was PAINFUL, but it was painful in the best way. It was 13x01 levels of pain, but this time it was Cas choosing to walk away which makes all the difference. Dean’s greatest fear isn’t his loved ones dying on him after all, but of his loved ones choosing to leave him. This was exactly the kick up the ass Dean needs in order to win Cas back, classic love trope style.

Hence my excitement at what is to come. Yes we won’t see Cas again until 15x06, but in the meantime I fully expect a good helping of angst and wallowing from a depressed Dean who has to deal with the fact that he has just lost the love of his life and it is all his fault. That he just pushed away the one person who promised they would always stay by his side. That has got to hurt.

So yeah, this episode emotionally destroyed me, and I’ve only really covered the primary reason, let alone all my feels over SamWitch, Rowena’s death, Belphegor’s taunting of Cas over his deepest fears and then having to suffer through smiting a creature wearing the face of his son until his body was nothing but a burnt corpse... I wonder if Bobo had a bet going in the office over how much he could hurt us all? He was certainly enjoying scrolling through the Supernatural tag on Twitter and liking everyone’s reaction tweets including some brilliant Destiel related ones. I do love Bobo. Our Angst Goblin King.

If anyone had asked me a few weeks ago what my thoughts were on the chances of getting explicit canon Destiel by series end, I would have said somewhere in the realms of 30-40%, considering it a battle of wills between DabbBerens and CW studio execs who I still feel are against it in general. I would have considered everything that happened after 13x06 as the writers getting a big NO on Destiel from the network and therefore having to pull back on any Destiel related plot points (purely my own speculation on BTS matters of course).

Now I am wondering if Dabb kept fighting the network? If he managed to wear them down into begrudging acceptance? I’m currently up to around an 80% chance of textual canon DeanCas if we continue on this path. If Dean is clearly shown to be mourning and hating himself over Cas next episode, and if this DeanCas dramatic plot line continues to be a focal point of the emotional story arcs... well...

I’m side eyeing 15x07 a lot right now. Only in my wildest dreams would I think that they might actually introduce an old boyfriend for Dean in a “coming out” episode, but the placement, timing, and potential is all there and I’m kind of once again donning the clown mask because I’m just in awe at everything that they are doing. I guess we’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, I’m gonna paint my face in red and white and wear my rainbow wig and listen to break up songs on Spotify whilst trying to shove my heart back into my chest where Bobo Beren’s gleefully ripped it out with his hands like the demonic angst goblin he is. Wish me luck, I’m not sure I’m gonna get through this season with my emotions intact.

#destiel #supernatural #spn meta #destiel meta #spn speculation #season 15 #15x03 #castiel #dean winchester #spn spoilers #my meta #destiel dreaming #destiel break up

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vikingpoteto · 4 years

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we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)

Chapter 5 on AO3

______________________

Relationships: (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit

Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all.

________________________

Jason Todd is many things. A street rat. A literature nerd. A former hero. A crime-lord. Dealing with anger issues. Ignoring a whole lot of other issues. But he isn’t an idiot. And, while he’s been bamboozled more times he can count, he realizes Tim Drake is a bigger conundrum than he anticipated. He isn’t about to be fooled again.

He thought he had Tim figured out. Rich kid. Too smart for his own good. Smug beyond repair. No regard for his own well-being. Incapable of holding grudges. He thought the kid couldn’t surprise him, not in a way that mattered, until that first night.

That’s when he starts taking note of the small things.

Saturday is uneventful. Jason wishes he could say he forgets he isn’t living alone anymore, but, even though Tim makes little to no noise as he sleeps the morning away, Jason is painfully aware that he has a roommate. He can’t focus on his book, he can’t focus on the absurdly detailed report Tim made him. He definitely can’t focus on anything else after Tim flies down the stairs like a speedster, blurts out something that could’ve been good morning and disappears in the kitchen. Jason heads to his room, assuming the kid is getting himself breakfast, and he tries to take a nap. He fails.

After giving up and heading downstairs to make dinner, he finds the kitchen as clean as he left — did Tim do the dishes? Did he eat at all? — and he can barely hear faint noises downstairs. He makes a mental note to fix the sound proofness of his walls as he climbs down.

In his Office, like Jason calls it, he finds Tim wearing headphones. The music is loud enough that Jason can clearly hear muffled heavy metal. The computer is half dismantled, half loading something somehow, and Tim is carefully tinkering with the suit Jason gave him.

Instead of throwing something at him like he wants to, Jason walks into his field of view and waves at his face. Tim takes off the headphones.

“The fuck you doing?” Jason asks.

“Fixing stuff. I know you love Jane Austen, but do you have to use the same software she used to write?”

Jason punches him in the shoulder. He regrets it instantly and curses at himself inwardly. Tim, however, doesn’t even flinch. He snickers as though that was the reaction he expected.

Huh. Jason files that away for later analysis.

He gets Tim to suit up and they head out for the night.

They don’t go together per se, as Red Hood is still laying low, planting the seeds subtly so no one notices until he’s ready to make an entrance. He gets intel. Ruins the plan of a very misguided small dealer. And finally saves a pair of prostitutes from a harasser. He wears nothing but a domino mask all night, because there are only a few key players that must know Red Hood is back. He smiles at the girls after he’s done and they get excited asking him if he’s the Red Hood. He takes off without answering.

Red Hood has always been popular with prostitutes, as weird as that sounds. What can Jason say? The girls that worked near the street he grew up in were the nicest people he knew; he has a soft spot for them.

He meets up with Tim near the end of the night and he finds that Tim’s spoken reports are a lot briefer than his written ones: he stopped some muggings. Probably broke the kneecaps of some creep near the park. Confirmed intel he got from his research. He actually saved a cat stuck on a tree too, which makes Jason roll his eyes. They go back to Jason’s place without further ado.

Sunday is more of the same, except Jason manages to actually sleep. That is, until the sound of a hammer wakes him up.

He finds Tim in his living room dismantling an old television he got from God knows where. The shouting match that follows should make things more awkward, but instead it makes them easier.

Turns out Tim doesn’t mind exchanging insults or having dusty pillows thrown at him, and Jason feels more at ease by the time they swallow cold sandwiches and head out.

He has this unreasonable pang of anxiety when Tim vanishes into the shadows, but he shakes it off. The Red Robin suit is getting better everyday and, thanks to the cowl, Tim looks older and more menacing than he actually is, meaning no one is going to fuck with him.

It’s fine. They have a plan. It’s working. There are rumors that Hood is back, though nothing but whispers. Enough to stir his territory without getting unwanted attention from the better neighborhoods.

It isn’t until Monday at around 1pm that the other shoe drops. Jason wakes up scratching his belly and walks past Tim on the way to the kitchen.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Tim mumbles.

“Fuck off, Replacement,” he says back.

The kid is fucking with something that smells like oil on the kitchen table. Jason thinks to himself he should have words with him about it… after his morning tea. Morning tea at 1pm, but still.

He’s boiling water and staring blankly at Tim when he realizes: it’s Monday.

“Wait, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Tim stares at him. Back at the myriad of circuits spread around the table. Then back at Jason

“Wrist computer,” he says.

“No, here !”

“The kitchen?”

“Home! You’re, like, 17, right? Shouldn’t you be at school?”

Tim stares at him as though he’s grown a second head. “Jason. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I stopped going to school after my father died again and I traveled abroad to work with an organization of murderers.”

“That was a fucking month ago. You get a month of skipped classes, your dad died. Now that you’re here, you can go back.”

His chin actually drops and Jason is greeted by the sight of a nearly white chewed gum threatening to fall from Tim’s open mouth.

“I’m not going back to high school. Are you insane?”

“Are you insane? Of course you’re going back to school. Don’t you have, I don’t know, friends or a girlfriend or… whatever!”

“No, I don’t?” Tim scowls. “You want me to go to school so I can date? Why don’t you go to school?”

“Everyone thinks I’m dead.”

“Oh, heck off, you don’t get to pull the death card with me,” Tim rolls his eyes. “It works with Dick and Bruce, but I’m immune.”

“The fact that you still say heck off means you definitely should be at school around people your age. Get some bullies. It builds character.”

Tim’s pale cheeks go crimson and Jason has to bite back a grin. Knowing that Tim blushes like that opens so many teasing opportunities.

“Shut up, I got used to it because Alfred got mad at us for cursing! And I don’t need school to get bullied, I have you right here.”

Jason decides to test a theory. It’s a wicked idea, but Jason isn’t known for fighting fair.

“Tim. I ain’t raising an uneducated goblin.”

“I’m seventeen ! You’re not fucking raising me! You’re like a muscular child sharing a place with a slightly smaller child!”

“If you don’t go back to school, the deal is off. I’m not keeping you around.”

And, just like that, Tim closes his mouth and all the color drains from his face. Jason expected this. He doesn’t feel great about it.

“Y-you… Dick will notice if I start going back to school,” he tries. “This is against the plan. Batman will know we’re working together.”

“No. He’ll know you’re back in town. Make an excuse. I know you’re great at it.”

“This will affect my productivity. I won’t be able to upgrade your gear as fast and I’ll have to sleep more. This is-”

“Non-negotiable. School or no partnership.”

Jason knows it’s too late for him. It might be too late for Tim, too. But not late enough that Jason will let him give up. Tim may never have a normal life - the fact that he’s working with his almost murderer more than proves it. Jason selfishly wants to make sure he has at least a little normality.

This is about Jason, not Tim. Jason doesn’t think he can live with another deadman walking.

“Fine,” Tim says, like he’s agreeing to a death sentence. “I’m going back to school tomorrow. You happy?”

“Hella,” Jason says. He turns back to his tea. “And Tim? I’ll know if you’re skipping and I’ll kill you if you do.”

Tim starts listing a colorful collection of insults a lot worse than heck off. Jason grins at him and Tim, in his teenage rage, doesn’t seem to notice that the smile doesn’t reach Jason’s eyes.

So Jason's theory is confirmed. Tim Drake doesn’t care about attempts on his life. He isn’t afraid to fight an armed man. He isn’t afraid of having a familiar person taking a swing at him, so Jason doesn’t think that he has issues with physical abuse.

Nothing freaks him out as much as someone critiquing his work, though. And not in the asshole way, that would be way too easy. As cocky as he is, Tim doesn’t look like the type to think he can do no wrong. He wouldn’t get irrationally angry over someone pointing out he can do better. He does, however, flip out at the mere possibility that he’s done something wrong and didn’t own up to it already.

Jason thought he knew Tim until he jokingly complained about him sleeping on the job and saw genuine horror in his eyes. Horror like never before, not even when Jason beat him and tried to leave him for dead. Hell, at that point the kid said he was a better Robin right before passing out.

Who did this to him, Jason wonders? Who convinced Tim that the worst he can be isn’t a high school dropout or even a dead boy, but a person who messes up? His biological parents? Bruce? Is Tim even aware of it?

Jason doesn’t know, and he isn't sure what to do about it. Can he do something about it? He remembers far too well, thinking Bruce brought him in because he wanted another Robin. How every time he made Bruce laugh, or solved a case, it felt like a victory. How every time he got scolded, he expected Bruce to send him back to where he came from. He remembers having that fear confirmed when he heard from Talia that he’d been replaced.

Is there really something to be done?

Despite a good deal of complaining about work hours, Tim starts going to school. Jason hounds him to make sure he isn’t lying and he’s pretty sure he’ll have to keep checking regularly, because, if he learned anything about Tim, is that the kid is scarily patient and spiteful.

He stalks him all the way to school on the first day, making it painfully obvious that he’s there even if Tim puts a lot of effort into pretending he can’t see him. He pops at Tim’s classroom window and waves cheerfully as Tim flips the bird at him. Waking up early was hell, but Jason finds it ridiculously fun to make Tim annoyed.

On Friday, Jason decides to pick Tim up after class just to keep him on his toes… then he almost crashes his motorcycle into a lamppost when he sees a fancy car and a familiar man leaning against it.

Dick Grayson.

Despite the fun distractions Jason came up with, his whole damn body still remembers the beating he took. He wonders if Dick took as long to recover after that night.

His fake second death would be really short-lived but, lucky for him, Dick is preoccupied with something else. Jason parks around the corner. His height wouldn’t allow him to hide among the flux of rich kids walking out of school looking for their chauffeurs, but he has to come closer.

Well, time to get those stealthy muscles to work.

Ironically, it was Dick who taught him that the best hiding spot was in plain sight, and that’s how he casually walks behind the sports car and heads towards a beaten phone booth.

Dick doesn’t notice him.

Whether it was thanks to Jason’s skills or the fact that the older man looks like he’s having an internal anxiety attack, Jason may never find out. He does, however, hear it when Tim’s voice lets out a long word that definitely isn’t heck . He risks taking a peek at the duo and sees Dick smiling. He looks tired.

“Timbo,” he greets.

“Don’t call me that,” Tim groans. He would’ve sounded like your everyday grumpy teenager, but there’s too much tension in his jaw.

“Welcome back,” Dick says. “Were you planning on telling anyone you’re around?”

“I’m assuming you don’t mind, since you kept paying for my school. I was also checking to see how long it’d take you to find out.”

Jason almost snorts. Who knew the kid had it in him? Furthermore, it’s impressive how Tim methodically and deliberately hid all signs of displeasure. He looks earnestly happy to see Dick and he almost makes his barb sound like friendly banter.

“Timmy, you were gone for almost two months. Where were you?”

“I was pursuing a lead. It didn’t pan out. So I’m back.”

Dick is quiet after that. Jason assumes he knows damn well Tim isn’t one to give up just like that. At the same time, Jason can see Dick assessing the differences between the kid in front of him and the kid he last saw.

“Let’s go home. We need to talk,” he says finally.

“Sorry, I can’t. I’m heading to a friend’s house so we can do homework together. I have a lot to catch up.”

“Tim…”

“You were right, Dick.” Tim smiles softly. “Damian needs you now. I don’t.”

Dick flinches. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” he chuckles. “Let me rephrase that: I’m fine. You know, when you first asked me to help Bruce, I planned on staying for a few months. A year, tops. I was always supposed to go back to my normal life.”

“Timmy, you’re family,” Dick pleads. “Your normal life doesn’t include going home?”

Tim’s expression is empty of emotion when he replies: “I need space now. I’m not going back, Dick. I’m sorry. I have a place to stay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“ Where are you staying? Do you need help setting up anything or…”

“I’ll text you the address later. Right now I really need to go, though.”

Dick presses his lips into a tight line. He hesitates before reaching out to hug him. Surprisingly to Jason, Tim allows it and even hugs him back, even if not as tightly as Dick does.

Jason didn’t realize that. The whole time, he thought Tim needed his older brother and Dick was painfully blind to it. It never occurred to him how Dick also needed Tim. He wonders if Dick felt lost when Tim went away, or if he realized how messed up it was to rely on a teenager.

And Jason’s file on Wayne drama keeps growing thicker.

“Come over for dinner tomorrow?” Dick tries again. “Alfie misses you.”

“And annoy Damian in the process? I’d love to.” Tim deadpans.

Dick finally pulls away from the hug. “He’s made a lot of progress. You’d be surprised.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t remember I punched him before I left.”

“Tim. Dinner?”

“Why would I say no to free food?” Tim gives him a crooked smile.

Dick moves as though it’s painful to let Tim go. He retreats to his car as slowly as it’s humanly possible, like he expects Tim to change his mind and join him. Tim smiles and waves until Dick vanishes around the corner. His look turns hollow, but none of the kids walking past him seems to notice it. Not even when Tim calls out:

“You can come out now. He’s really gone.”

Jason pretends not to hear two girls letting out startled little squeals when he leaves his hiding spot.

“That was cold blooded, Replacement,” Jason says, stretching his hand to Tim. “I knew you were a liar, but that was impressive.”

Without blinking, Tim takes out a tracker from the collar of his shirt and another from his hair. He hands both to Jason. “I didn’t lie, mostly,” he says. “I did plan on leaving after Bruce got better. Or at least when we found a better replacement. That didn’t work like I expected.”

Jason doesn’t say anything as he casually crushes one of the trackers under his boot and places the other on a random kid passing by. He knows how magical it feels to be Robin. He doesn’t think he could quit out of free will. He still remembers the addicting adrenaline that makes you feel like you’re really a bird soaring across the sky.

Until you’re not.

He notices it when Tim looks down at his own feet. Without thinking, he reaches for Tim’s head and messes up his hair.

“C’mon. I got the parts you asked. You can finish tinkering your suit tonight.”

They take the night off. It’s too risky going patrolling the night Dick found out about Tim’s return. Instead, they sit in the living room and Jason turns on the TV while Tim finishes adjusting the suit. The documentary about fish only keeps Jason’s attention for about five minutes before he notices Tim is butchering his cowl. Of course they start bickering.

The new mask isn’t quite a domino. It still has a nose guard similar to a bird’s beak that creates the illusion that Tim’s nose is more aquiline rather than a small snub, which is good to hide one’s identity. Still, Jason thinks going out without head protection is fucking stupid and Tim goes on a rant about looking like he’s wearing a condom on his head. Jason didn’t say anything when Tim replaced the old bandoliers with yellow ones with more compartments. The condom head thing hurts, though, and he ends up beating the shit out of Tim with a couch pillow.

A good deal of screaming and kicking each other later, they return to the task of redesigning. Tim replaces the RR in the middle of his chest with a bird-like symbol that hides a panic button. He switches the black gloves for sleeker red ones, although the middle finger and indicator are black. Jason thinks Tim is trying to make it more dramatic when he flips the bird (heh. Robin flipping bird) but Tim punches Jason’s shoulder and says the new gloves allow him to use his wrist pad more easily.

Jason hits him when he notices he weakened some of the defenses, and they bicker some more before Tim gives in and puts the shin guards and knee protectors back.

The cowl and the cape are gone, much to Jason’s annoyance, and he says Tim’ll look stupid. Tim calls him a knock-off Iron Man. Jason tries to smother him to death with a pillow when Tim doesn’t stop laughing.

It’s the most fun Jason had in… God, how long? He doesn’t remember the last time he could just joke back and forth like this. It doesn’t do good to your reputation as a crime lord if you give the drug dealers a noogie. Tim, on the other hand? Tim gets at least five noogies a day because he’s a dumbass.

It isn’t until they head to their rooms, later that night, that Jason realizes he hasn’t thought about his fight with Dick at all since they started working on the suit. He would've never guessed Tim’s presence wouldn’t be a bitter reminder of everything Jason lost, but rather than a good distraction.

Another week goes by before the suit is finished.

Jason swallows his pride and admits (to himself, at least) that getting rid of the cape was a smart move when he and Tim stand next to each other in full uniform. Tim’s new outfit doesn’t look out of place near Jason’s bulletproof vest and leather jacket. They’re a lot less dramatic than the Bats, and Jason likes that. They’re their own team, not one of them .

“Comms?” Jason asks.

“Tested and protected. Even Oracle would have to manually tinker with them to get into our frequency.”

“And you decided your field name yet?”

Tim hesitates. “I… Red Robin is fine.”

Jason nods. “Plan?”

“Break into Black Mask’s warehouse through the vent, plant…”

“Red Robin,” he cuts off. “Plan.”

Tim sighs. “Make Roman our bitch.”

“Atta boy. Let’s go.”

It’s an operation as simple as it is petty: Black Mask thought he could take over one of Hood’s warehouses. Jason was going to prove him wrong. It wasn’t a key hideout, but it was a relatively safe place if you were in the business of laundering money — discreet, easy to access without being noticed by the pigs, with most of the sewers around it hadn’t been blown up, which was always a plus. Hood was almost sure Roman took it just to show that he could and turned it into a drug warehouse to spite Hood. The fact that he disliked drugs wasn’t exactly a secret, after all. Szazs probably was involved in the process, Jason was sure.

In the end, Tim convinced him the stealthy approach was better. Just get in, ruin the whole operation and, by the time Black Mask realized it, he had lost a ton of money. Poetic justice and all that.

Jason complained about the plan being boring, but, as they get on their bikes to head out, he feels almost jittery. He doesn’t know if it’s just the thrill of being on the field again after so long — sue him, he’s an adrenaline junkie — or the prospect of the petty revenge. Either way, Red Hood grins under the helmet and, almost as though he can see his expression — or as though he’s feeling the same — Red Robin smirks back.

Just like that, they take off into the night. The wind howls past them as Hood leads the race, fast enough that it seems like he’s riding aimlessly. It doesn’t mean he isn’t choosing the way methodically. He knows he’s picking the right streets, the dark ones in which the dark red leather merges perfectly with the shadows. They rush past buildings with closed windows, sure that no one is stupid enough to glance at the two suspiscious riders.

Red Hood makes a sharp turn that would’ve made a less experienced driver fall into the asphalt. He hears Red Robin whooping excitedly behind him and he can’t help but laugh.

When they’re just a few blocks from the warehouse, they stop. At this point, Hood almost considers throwing the plan away — crashing the motorcycle into the place would make for an excellent entrance — but, as though reading his thoughts, Red Robin gives him a pointed look before getting off his bike.

“You’re such a wet blanket,” Hood says, even though no words were truly exchanged before that.

“And you’re a drama queen,” Red Robin retorts. And he grapples up to the nearest rooftop before Hood can give him a noogie for that.

Lighter and more agile, Red leads the way now and Hood is happy to be his shadow until they reach the strategic spot they picked — the two story building next door.

“Thank god this place didn’t crumble,” Hood comments absently. “The other buildings are too far for a clear view.”

Red gives him a strange look. “I checked whether it was still standing while we were planning the attack. Do you not verify the surroundings when you’re making strategies?”

“I like to leave room for improvisation; I’m not a stick in the mud like you.”

Red rolls his eyes under the mask as he reaches for the binoculars in his belt. Hood does the same. There shouldn’t be a lot of activity tonight if their intel is correct, and it looks like it is. They can’t see the inside of the warehouse — which is why Red Hood liked the place so much, damn it — but they can still see the roof as clearly as they can see the vent they chose to… Hood freezes.

“Hey Hood?” Red Robin calls.

Jason pulls a face under the hood. “Yes?”

“Remember our plan to lay low so Batman doesn’t notice us?”

“Hmm.”

“Remember how I wanted to check on the rogues and you told me to stop being a stick in the mud?” He hisses.

“No one likes a bitching vigilante, Red.”

“Freaking Poison Ivy is here.” Red Robin gestures widely at the roof of the warehouse, as though Red Hood can’t see the green lady trying to get in through the very same vent they planned on using.

“See, that’s the beauty of crime fighting. You make a plan. The plan goes wrong. You throw the plan away.”

“Oh my freaking God,” he groans, “this is Young Justice all over again, but worse.”

Despite the complaining, they seem to be in agreement about what to do next: they take their grapple guns and shoot at Ivy’s blindspot. Red Robin is already getting his rebreather to filter whatever toxins they’re about to face.

The boys land almost silently all things considered. Without thinking, Hood points at the other side of the roof and crosses an X in front of his lips, before closing a fist. Red Robin nods and sprints without a question.

For the second time, Jason freezes. The instructions were clear — take the other side, we’re going for a surprise attack after cornering her — but they shouldn’t have been. He didn’t realize he kept using those gestures to give orders, because he hadn’t had anyone working this close to him in literal years. He didn’t realize he still remembered the whole language — ASL, but also specific gestures that only made sense among Bats — until he had Red Robin following his orders. Something in his stomach feels heavy.

“... Hood ? Do you copy? ” Says a hushed voice in his ear.

Shit. Get it together, Jason.

He presses the comm button. “Listening.”

On the other side of the line, Red Robin sighs. “ Oh thank god, I thought the comms were suddenly fried. I’m in position. ”

Shit . “Hang on,” he says. He finally starts moving, extra careful not to make any noise.

“ You good, man?” Red asks, and Hood can practically see the confused furrow of his brow.

“Yeah, yeah, be quiet before Ivy hears us.”

He finally gets close enough to see her — she’s unscrewing the air vent cover to get in, even though she could probably just get a giant peach to roll over the place or something. It looks like Red Hood and Red Robin weren’t the only ones trying to be stealthy tonight.

He takes one step closer, and many things happen at the same time: the metal roof creaks under his boot. Ivy goes stiff for half a second. Then Jason is doing a backflip to avoid being bombarded with freaking thorns? When the hell did Ivy add a machine gun of thorns to her arsenal?

“Red Hood?” She stands, frowning. “Huh. I heard you were dead.”

“I get that a lot,” he says.

He reaches for his guns as Ivy waves her hand gracefully. Red Hood watches, with mild disgust, as what he thought was a weird belt snakes its way up Ivy’s torso until she has two venus flytraps settle on her shoulders.

“Fucking gross,” he says.

“I get that a lot,” she quips.

When he shoots at her, she’s ready. A branch grows fast enough to take the bullet for her and, before he realizes, she’s already inside his personal space. Hood dodges a punch in the throat but she keeps advancing. She knows better than letting him keep her at shooting range.

Welp, brute force it is then.

Hood puts his gun away at the same time he dodges a kick to the face. He takes a swing. One of Ivy’s pet plants almost bites his fist and he barely has time to retreat before the pesky thing takes a piece out of his glove.

“Huh. My sixth grade teacher told me those things are only lethal to flies,” he huffs.

Ivy grins. “My children are special.”

She presses and attacks again, and this time Hood lets her. When her knee hits his stomach, he grabs her by the calf and uses her own momentum against her. She barely weighs anything when he throws her hard at the ground, her back hitting metal and her pained groan muffled by the loud clang. He cringes. So much for stealth.

He makes to kick her before she recovers her wits, but apparently plants are more resistant than they seem. Hood feels his foot stuck to something and he curses when he looks down and sees thick vines holding him back. Shit, why didn’t he consider she had traps prepared around her?

“That was kinda rude, Hood,” she grins, slowly sitting up. “But I’m not mad. I might even give you a little kiss.”

By then, his resistance is futile and he wishes he hadn’t put his guns away so fast, because the vines quickly wrap around his whole damn body and he can’t even shoot the b —

A flying staff hits her on the side of the head.

“ACK!” Ivy shrieks, falling to the side.

“What are you doing, Hood?” Red Robin hisses, pressing a batarang into Red Hood’s hands.

“The hell?” Ivy groans, now looking dizzy. “I thought you worked alone.”

“I’m the intern. They call me Red Robin.”

And he stands over her, looking all heroic and ready to fight. Ivy, however, stays where she is, gaping at him.

“Bullshit. You’re regular Robin,” she says. “I thought you died. We all did when we saw the smaller Robin.”

Hood snorts.

The kid deflates a bit. “How the hell do you know who I am?”

“You’re Harley’s favorite Robin,” she says simply. “She got really grumpy when we heard there’s a new Robin again.”

“I’m Harley’s — Wait, you guys have favorite Robins?”

“Of course we do. Mine’s the girl one. She didn’t die, did she?”

That’s one of the most surreal conversations Red Hood ever witnessed and he’s leading an unusual second life. Fortunately, Ivy is distracted enough — or at least hurt enough — that she doesn’t intervene while he cuts himself free.

“What are you doing here, Dr. Isley?” Red Robin asks. “Are you aware that this place is Black Mask’s?”

She scowls at him. “Are you aware that Sionis is a misogynistic jerk and he’s doing a lot of damage to the environment in this stupid warehouse? I’m going to take this thing down.”

“Hey, fuck off, this place was mine before Sionis stepped in,” Hood protests.

“I don’t care if you’re his landlord.” She gives him a scathing look. “I want him out.”

“This is great then!” Red Robin smiles. “We also want him out. And we have eco friendly plans for the place after Black Mask is out of the equation.”

Ivy gapes at Red Robin as though he started speaking a foreign language out of the blue. Red Hood is thankful for his helmet because he’s sure his expression isn’t much better.

“Are you suggesting we team up with Poison Ivy?”

“Why not?” Red Robin smiles as if he’s suggesting they should have burgers later. “The enemy of my enemy, right? Plus, I used to give her a free pass here and there because sometimes she’s right, you know?”

“Huh. So that’s why you’re Harls’ favorite.”

Red Robin shrugs again and stretches his hand to her. “Friends for the night?”

To Red Hood’s utter shock, she hesitates for less than a second before taking the kid’s hand and letting him pull her back to her feet.

“Just tonight, though,” she says.

If anyone told Jason tonight he’d be working with no one other than the Poison Ivy to take down one of Black Mask’s drug labs, he’d call them insane.

Nonetheless, he watches as Ivy throws caution to the wind — there’s no way the people inside didn’t hear their little scuffle — and uses one of their sentient plants to rip off an entrance on the metal roof. Right before jumping in, however, Red Robin squeezes his shoulder.

“What was that?” he whispers low enough that Ivy won’t hear them. “You were off. That wasn’t like you.”

Hood shrugs his hand away. “We’ll talk about this later. Come on, we can’t let Ivy have all the fun.”

They can already hear the screaming inside, so Red has no option other than compliance. Time to crash the party, he was looking forward to this.

And it’s fun. Having Tim around is fun. Watching a bunch of crooks run terrified of a plant lady is fun. Rounding up his former employees — those traitors — and watching their comically horrified faces upon realizing he isn’t dead is fun.

So much fun he completely misses the fact that there was someone else tailing Ivy. No one sees it when a young boy clad in bright colors rushes away from the place. Robin doesn’t know what to make out of what he witnessed tonight.

#red hood #jason todd #red robin #tim drake #batfam #red bros #poteto writing

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gwoongi · 5 years

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ways to say i love you (07)

jung hoseok / reader genre: ghost au, angst rating: mature words: 2.5k warnings: character death, reference to a past suicide, mental health mentions, ghost hoseok, it’s a big ball of angst and i’m really sorry :( a/n: ways to say i love you has come to an end !!!! thanks for joining me on this painful angst series :’) please read the others on my masterlist + listen to the songs/vibes attached to all of ‘em :D (the end is super inspired by goblin)

➸ Imagine the first time they say I love you. Like, properly say it; because they’ve said it before, but today they say it one last time, when it’s the only thing left to say.

⚠️ this story is NOT intended to glamorise mental health or suicide, and this story should be approached with caution if topics such as those offend or upset. thank u sm for following this series <3

It started with a median.

There had been a time where you prided yourself on your disbelief in an afterlife, dismissing medians on television, laughing at ghost hunters and paranormal movies depicting demons and ghouls climbing out of screens. Although now, those times seem to long ago, phantom memories - even the person you were in those memories seem to be different, as though looking into the mind of a stranger, disconnected and vacant.

Seokjin had told you that was a coping mechanism. Hyojung assured you it was normal. Your sister said it was mental illness.

After the loss of Hoseok, you didn’t know what to think anymore. After the loss of the love of your life, thinking just became pointless.

When the news of Hoseok’s passing had reached you, it had reached you last. At least everybody in your close circle of friends knew a few hours before you, Hoseok’s family and Jeongguk who had found him being the first who found out almost a day before. The absence of Hoseok for those long and tortuous hours were ones you misjudged. You thought he was going back to Gwangju to see his family for the weekend. Seokjin thought he was with you. Jeongguk had returned to his shared flat and found the truth hanging.

The only reason as to why you were last was because nobody knew how you would react. Amongst the chaos and shock that was Hoseok’s death, the reaction that would be drawn from you would change everything. Looking back at it, you even remember where you were and when it had happened, when the pin dropped. Originally, they wanted Jeongguk to tell you, but, overcome with grief, he sent Yoongi instead. You will never, ever forget the look on Yoongi’s face as you opened the door, and the news followed a cup of tea and an unexpected, clueless, and genuine smile had settled on your lips. “What are you doing here?” you had asked, “is everything okay?” He’d said nothing, and then broke down when you asked if he’d heard from Hoseok this weekend. He’s missing my calls. Has he contacted you?

Even after the funeral, after the original shock and after the news had been broken out around University, people still didn’t know how to act around you. The Hoseok Subject was never spoken about or touched upon. Pictures of Hoseok were turned over or taken down when you came over, his name buried with him in the pretty cemetery by the river. It took some time, a real long time, but eventually, the pain began to ever so slightly fade; only to come rushing back again like the sudden pull of the tide when Seulgi had approached your booth in the dorm common room with a leaflet about a median.

You don’t know why you went.

Hyojung had come, too, as emotional support and because she wanted to be there to see if it was as real as Seulgi and the leaflet were making it out to be. You hadn’t even booked a session, turning up unannounced and anonymous for the meeting in one of the older lecture rooms on campus. The question of why and how a median was permitted onto campus was never addressed - you just had to see and hear it for yourself. Nothing had come out of it, and you were glad to keep it that way. That was until the median called out for a Y/N, and your heart sank.

“There’s a Hoseok in the room, and he’s asking for a Y/N...is there...a Y/N here?”

You had no reaction other than paralysed silence. Hyojung was scandalised, angry and confused. The median surely must have heard about Hoseok’s death here and that’s why the session was on campus. She said all of this accusingly, crying in hysterics, this is wrong, how can you do this to someone in grieving?

You left the lecture hall, leaving a piece of you behind with it.

Since that day, you’d returned back to the comfort of your bedroom, leaving for your lectures only. Seminars were skipped in silence and the teachers understood, sending emails to cover for it, and the notifications piled up like the tissues in the dustbin. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that the event with the median was a scam, something set up as a sick practical joke, you couldn’t shake it off. What if’s and buts whirled around in your head, chaotic, loud, invasive and sad.

Hoseok was gone, and there was nothing you could do about it. But what if you had stayed -? What if it was true? What if you just missed your last, and final opportunity to say goodbye?

(Presently).

“Why are you here? All of you?”

“We never left.”

You blink.

“Does it...does it hurt? Dying?”

You close your eyes slowly. “Quicker than falling asleep.” And exhale.

Something deep into your apartment bumps.

The noise is quiet whilst still being loud enough to bounce off the volume of the movie, playing quietly on your television screen sitting on top of your desk. Lately, your living room has been pulled into your bedroom, all rooms besides the connecting ensuite now in one. Phone calls from worried friends and family were set to silent and on days where the front door rang, it remained closed. Like you did many months ago, all you need right now is the space. Hyojung had told them why. They didn’t blame you.

Sniffing and wiping your eye with the side of your hand, you push the covers folded up around your breasts down and kick your feet to the floor, staring towards your bedroom door as if probing it for answers. Silence, and then another noise. On a normal day, this might alarm you, but your body is numb, aching and tired, and so you move towards the door without thinking and pull it open, stepping out into the hall. A glance in either direction shows no immediate threat, and you’re too lazy, too tired and too unbothered to step out to investigate. The noise is likely somebody upstairs or down, and if it is an intruder here to kill you, then what do you have to lose?

You move back into your bedroom, shutting the door gently. The bathroom rope-light swings in the breeze from the door moving and you slip into the bathroom quickly. Light floods the box room, illuminating the exhaustion on your face. You look ghastly, sunken and stale. You feel it too. Depression clings to you, life moves outside but stills in. God, you feel so ugly, so worthless and disgusting and alone - splashing your face with cold water, you gasp in the air like you’re depending on the taste, passing up looking at your reflection in the mirror in fear of what you’ll see staring back. When the bathroom light is turned off and you shut the door behind you, you turn to shuffle back into your bedroom and pause.

There is somebody by the window. It’s undeniable, real and solid- but you blink several times, wondering if it’s just a dream. Nothing registers in your body, no reflex to scream or panic. Instead, you simply stare.

The silhouette against the window shuffles, anxious, and then steps into the light. For a while you say nothing, staring in a stunned silence as the figure reveals itself. It has to be a dream. This is a dream. You’ve dreamt it a hundred times. You’ve dreamt Hoseok stepping towards you. You don’t know what to think.

“Hobi,” you say, lifeless. “Am I...dreaming?”

“Baby-” Footsteps across the carpet. Moves like him. Sounds like him. “Oh, my baby girl.” Something cold touches you, but something familiar. Old friends. Old lovers, fleshy hands. Feels like him. “My beautiful girl.”

“Hobi. Hobi?” you stumble. The Hoseok before you watches your eyes fill with tears instantly, and the tightness in your throat he can visibly see causing your hands to tremble. “Hoseok? Am I. Am I dreaming? Am I sleeping?”

“Mhm, yeah,” he settles with. Maybe that’s for the best, maybe that will calm you down. His hands engulf your own, massaging the shakes to sleep. “You’re dreaming, baby.”

“You. You feel so real,” you choke. “Fuck. Hoseok, fuck, what’s happening, why does it feel real-”

“Please-”

“I’m scared, wait, what’s happening, Hoseok-?”

The hands you felt on your hands move to your arms. A tightness follows, like he’s holding you. He did this, he was good at calming you down with his hands on your arms and lips on yours, whispers in mouths. This time he doesn’t kiss you. He can’t. Not now. Not again, never again.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you insist, tears pouring out of your eyes. “You’re. You. Baby, you died, you left me, you left us, why did you. Where did you. Baby, Hoseok, what...?”

“Calm down, Y/N, calm down baby, okay?” Hoseok whispers comfortingly. “Capture your breath, and then we’ll talk okay? I don’t have too long left.”

This repeats for a little while, as Hoseok follows a method he used to when he tried to calm you down. After three long and amazing years of dating, Hoseok had learned what worked and what didn’t, what to say and what not to. The crazy thing about love is how you dedicate everything to getting to know that other person inside and out, learning their secrets and exploring interests, making memories to remember and frame and tell kids about. There was a time when Hoseok thought about all of that, and a time where he could have had it.

“Is it really you?” you ask quietly, after several long minutes of Hoseok holding your head in his hands and bringing you out of the storm onto the calm shore. “I’m not going crazy?”

“It’s me,” Hoseok promises, smiling as best as he can. You’re crying, maybe you can’t see his face. His throat feels hot, tight and firm.

“I miss you.” You rasp out your words, gasping for air every few seconds, “I miss you so much, Hoseok. Why did you leave me, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I. I thought you were going to your parents for the weekend, but. But Jeongguk found you and- why did you lie to me? Hobi, why…? Was, was it me?”

“No.” Hoseok grabs your hands tightly. “Don’t ever say that. It was never, ever your fault. Not at all, okay? Don’t think that.”

“Then why?”

Hoseok can’t think. “I don’t want you to think it was your fault, okay? You were- you are, everything to me. You were the light of my life. But, fuck, I was so unhappy. And I didn’t know how to stop being unhappy. I hurt. It hurt me. I was hurting everybody around me in my own little way. Every time I would tell you that I was doing extra readings at the dorm, all I was doing was struggling, thinking about how unhappy I felt even though I was surrounded by people who made me feel worth it. And you all deserved so much better. Still, you deserve so much better.”

“Jeongguk found you. None of us knew you were hurting, Hobi, I didn’t know. We should have noticed the signs, I should have been more careful.”

“No. I was good at hiding it, I never wanted you to worry.”

Suddenly Hoseok’s eyes widen, his hands stroking your hair pausing. With a quick exhale of breath, his smile tightens and he lets out a shaky sigh. “I haven’t got long left. I need to go soon.”

“Go? No, go where?” you frantically ask. “No, please Hobi, don’t leave me again. You can’t leave me again, please.”

“It’s okay. It’s all okay. I tried to call for you the other week, but you left,” Hoseok explains quickly.

“The median? That...that was you?”

Hoseok laughs quietly, “Yeah, baby. But, I get it, you never believed in all that stuff, huh. I should have known better. I had to come here, come to see you. I had to.”

I had to one last time.

“Please,” you whisper, grabbing his hands. “Please don’t leave me again. Please. I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone again. I need you.”

Hoseok shakes his head, attempting a curly smile that you can’t even see past the blur of his own tears. “Y/N L/N, you have been the love of my life. I have loved being your boyfriend and you are my best friend. I will never, ever forget how amazing you are.” Nodding, sniffing his tears back, Hoseok kisses your forehead. His lips are cold and wet, ghostlike and light. “I love you. I love you so much, baby. I’m so sorry, for everything- none of it is your fault, okay, honey? Mmm?”

You feel his hands in your hair as you nod. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry too. I could have helped you.”

“Don’t forget about me,” Hoseok says. “You being happy, and you knowing that it was never your fault, will help me now. Okay?”

Sniffing loudly, you nod again. “Okay.”

For a long moment, Hoseok just stares: “I’m gonna miss you so much.” You mumble something in reply to him, and he sighs shakily, “but now, I have to go.”

You grab his hands as he tries to pull away. “Don’t leave me, you’re leaving me.”

“I never left. I’ll always be here, watching over you. Always, and forever.”

Whether or not Hoseok’s appearance was a dream or not to you, you wake up the next morning with a headache and the memory of him, his voice saying I love you on loop with an echo in your ears. The sun shines into the room, frost outside. On the desk there’s a glass of water, and a letter. He was right. He never left. Not really.

(“All is said and done?”

Hoseok steps into the long hallway and smiles at the hooded man. He’s seen who he needs to; several stops around to his family, one to Jeongguk who had it the worst with finding his body. The final one for you. Y/N, the love of his entire life, remembered in memories and gone in touch.

It’s okay.

“Yeah,” Hoseok nods. Death nods, his hood falling slightly as he points down the hallway with one hand and with the other, passes Hoseok a small cup. Hoseok reaches for it, exhaling gently. “Just like falling asleep.”

He drinks the contents and hands the cup back to Death, heading down the hallway. For a moment, his hand hovers above the handle. He’s said his piece on Earth. He’s done what he needs to do. Now, he can move on in peace.

He turns the handle. The hallway fills with white.)

disclaimer: the choice not to explicitly state a reason towards hoseok’s suicide is because i understand the subject is already touchy enough. with the anniversary of a close friend coming up, unfortunately during a time of my life where i’m going to be stressed due to university, i decided to store my feelings into the final piece of this series. in a way, this is to deal with my own grieving. i’d appreciate consideration into this fact + i also hope that everybody is doing okay with their own issues. please don’t be afraid to speak to somebody about your feelings- a friend, a stranger, me. please stay safe. please stay happy. thank u for everything

#wtsily #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #bts drabble #bts scenario #hoseok #hoseok x reader #hoseok imagine #jung hoseok #hobi #jhs #jhope #sensitive content #bts angst #hoseok angst #jhope angst

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occasionalfics · 5 years

Text

worth my while // p. 2

main masterlist | thor masterlist | ko-fi | p. 1 | p. 3

Summary: After being banished from his home, Thor Odinson has stopped at nothing to prove himself worthy of his throne, title, and power.

After losing the love of your life, you turned to a power you didn’t understand.You know you shouldn’t get involved.

But how could you not?

Pairing: Thor x Reader (Hercules au…kind of…)

A/N: Me: *uses the same gif two chapters in a row*

also me: *sees a new pretty one* OOH YES LET’S CHANGE THINGS UP A BIT

Aaaaand here I go, stealing whole ideas straight outta Hercules. Oops ;) Let me know what y’all think, as usual 💖💖💖

Warnings: Violence, lots of angst, borderline abuse and definite manipulation, eventual smut, way too many feels, major character death (eventually). A little more harassment on Hades’ part this time around.

Words: 3,641

“You do understand how powerful Von Doom is, don’t you?” Hades asks the next day.

Just like you had at Captain America, you roll your eyes. “Listen, it’s not my fault, okay?” You watch as he paces the room, and think about the night before. “The Avengers showed up to bust the place for...God only knows what. Captain America gave me an ultimatum, I couldn’t refuse, so I walked out.”

Hades sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Babe,” he says, using the nickname you absolutely hate, “our hostile takeover isn’t proving to be very...ya know, hostile.” When he looks at you, you can see the flames behind his navy irises.

You’re in trouble.

You sit back against the couch and cross your arms. “We can use this,” you offer. You try not to imagine the lighting-laced eyes of the other Avenger as you go over your exact process from the night before. “You want to take out the Avengers. The Avengers attack Victor Von Doom, who you want to help take out the Avengers. Now he has a personal reason to do it.”

Hades pauses. He faces you, fingers on his chin as he scratches his stubble. And he stares long enough that you know you’re not totally off the hook - Hades isn’t known for his patience, after all - but he’s at least considering what you’ve said.

Then he chuckles once and shakes his head. “Oh, you sweet summer child,” he mutters, giving off gruff and insulting sounds as his brows raise. “You’ve got so much to learn. But you’re not wrong - we can use this.”

Just as Cerberus - one of them, anyway - comes marching into the room, straight to your lap, Hades picks up a remote from the table that serves as the only thing separating your bodies. He turns around and powers up the mounted television, and just like magic, there’s a news segment on discussing an upcoming Avengers celebration.

Celebration? You think. They destroy everything they touch. What are we supposed to be celebrating, exactly?

You’re one of those who had once sided with the U.N. and Tony Stark. You didn’t care for the billionaire - after working for Hades, you more or less hated every billionaire - but you did think that the so-called heroes needed to be held accountable for the destruction they left wherever they went.

This party, though, seems to be a celebration of the fifth anniversary of the Battle in Manhattan, which seems...so ridiculous to you. Why would you - or anyone - want to celebrate that? So what if six people saved the world from imminent danger? They’d still nearly let millions of people die or be injured in their messy attempt to kick alien ass.

Also, wasn’t the man behind that plan that Thunder Guy’s cousin or something?

More personally, however, the drunk driver that had killed Rick was drunk because his wife had perished in that battle. He’d been drunk every night since her funeral. The jury had taken his grief into account when they sentenced him to prison, giving him a light sentence instead of life behind bars.

You’re so busy letting your cold heart grow colder that you miss the point of the segment. Stark is interviewed, but you don’t listen. You almost know what’s going to happen anyway, so why bother giving it your attention now?

Hades waits until the segment ends, then puts the television on mute. He turns to you, puts the remote down, and actually comes around to sit on the table.

You lean even further back against the couch. Hades never gets this close unless he’s got a mission for you. Cerberus watches you both, head lifted from your lap as he whines.

A second Cerberus pads into the room, sitting politely on the floor between you.

“Sending me to that thing isn’t gonna get us Von Doom,” you tell Hades. You’ve gotten quite good at reading him since he’d cashed in his price for Rick’s life. You had to - the only other alternative was to let the formidable Lord of the Dead control your every move. Which he kind of did anyway, but at least you could keep up with him this way.

He shrugs, like that’s part of his plan. “Maybe not. But we can stir up some trouble.” His smirk is undeniably mischievous. But you know that’s the only way he operates.

You stare at him like a frustrated parent might at an indignant child. “And what good will that do us?”

Us you think, like I have any say in the matter. Like he’ll actually listen to me.

“If we can scatter them, cause a real scene at their own event, we might be able to attract more than just Von Doom. Better than Von Doom.” Hades nods at his own assumption, but you don’t like where this is going. Not one bit.

“Like who?” you counter. Von Doom is another billionaire. He has money, technology, and apparently, superhuman abilities of his own.

“Norman Osborn,” he replies without hesitation. “Otto Octavius. Wilson Fisk. The list goes on.”

You don’t even know who the last guy is. Still, you groan. “Osborn is an actual goblin, and Octavius is just a scientist. Plus, they can’t even handle themselves against that Spider-kid. You think they’ll be a match for the Avengers?”

You know you’re right, but either Hades doesn’t care or has deluded himself beyond the point of return.

Or, you dare think, that he can see beyond what you can. He is immortal, after all. He has to be right at least some of the time, you figure.

Maybe he sees this as a calculated risk he’s willing to take for the endgame.

Hades stands and starts to leave the room. He only stops to tell you, “United we stand…”

The event is really lovely, actually. Central Park is full of festivities from one corner to the next. There’s no way to do all of this in a day, you think, but as you watch people actually enjoy their existences again, you know no one cares.

So you stop caring about that, too.

You hear, about midday, that the Avengers will make an appearance in Sheep Meadow at some point later, so you decide to stick around that area for the day.

There are food vendors everywhere. All kinds of different food, too. Smells and sounds rule over the lawn, and for once, New York doesn’t feel like a death sentence. It feels like a place where people live - real people, civilians that have normal, superhero-free lives. It’s not really a place where aliens fall out of portals in the sky and threaten the status quo.

But sometime around 3, the Avengers show up, and suddenly New York is that place. Lightning Guy is living proof of that.

Your eyes find him just as easily as if you actually knew his name. You remember hearing...something about him, a few years back. Before the Manhattan attack.

He’d shown up somewhere West, claiming to be a Space Prince while he paraded around after an astrophysicist and her little team. Something had attacked there, too, but he’d defeated it. He had to, otherwise, he wouldn’t be standing across the lawn from you with his dangerous friends surrounding him.

Why he hadn’t gone home then, you couldn’t say. But he’s still here, on Earth, causing more and more damage to buildings and people and a way of life he only just acquainted himself with.

Tony Stark signs autographs. You only notice because you force yourself to stop looking at Lightning Guy. You watch Captain America, now without his stupid winged helmet, pose for a Charlie’s Angels picture with two women he probably doesn’t know. But they fawn over him once the picture is taken, and you roll your eyes.

Falcon and...the other birdman stand off behind the more well-known members of the team. You decide to go in for them, first.

“Some crowd,” you say as you sidle up next to Falcon.

He smiles down at you - a playful look, clearly intrigued by your approach - and nods. The other birdman doesn’t seem to care much, which works just as well for you.

“One of the bigger ones, believe it or not,” Falcon says to you, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“And yet, you’re unattended to,” you say, attempting polite banter like you know Hades is expecting out of you. “‘S a shame. You’re one of my favorites.”

To be fair, he kind of is. He wasn’t around for the Battle of Manhattan. He did help take out that government facility in D.C. a while back, but you’d heard it’d been infiltrated by Nazis. So, for that, you forgive him.

Generally, he’s one of the lesser-known, newer members of the team. He seems much more approachable, much more amenable. And when he asks, his smirk growing by the second, “Oh, am I, now?” you can’t help but laugh a little at his enthusiasm.

It’s genuine laughter you’re feeling, for the first time since...everything. You know it because your stomach already hurts from just this little muscle contraction. The feeling is foreign and that is...somehow unfair.

But you manage to nod. “Those other guys are overstated,” you say with a shrug. “I like the ones that feel more like...us, you know?”

And he nods, too. “I do,” he says, and you believe him. You appreciate the gap in between his front teeth - it’s kind of adorable, truthfully - as he holds his hand out to you. “Sam Wilson.”

You place your hand in his, and he lifts it to his lips to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles. He’s quite the charmer.

“(Y/N),” you say back, forgoing the your surname because, really, does an Avenger need to know that? Even if he is one of the only ones you like? “And thank you for your service.” You’d read somewhere that he used to be in some branch of the military, so you let him take the compliment however he wants.

“‘Course,” he says. And then, after a beat, “I hope you’re enjoying such a lovely day.”

You know Hades would say to lay it on thick, here, to distract at least some part of the team. You try not to be too thick as you respond, “It’s much better now.”

But, of course, that’s when another person joins your group. You might be okay if it was just another fan asking Sam for an autograph or a picture or something, but no. You don’t have that kind of luck.

Lightning Guy steps up, clad in a plain shirt beneath an open plaid button-down and a pair of light jeans. Sans-armor, the guy is still huge and still looks like he’d be an absolute boulder in a fight. Formidable - that’s the best word you can come up with.

But there is something...a little more personable about his smile. You don’t let yourself fall for it, but you at least acknowledge it.

“Ah, (Y/N),” Sam says, “you know Thor, of course.”

Right you think. He’s the Norse God. You used to think he just borrowed the name, but then you’d seen an interview on the Today show one morning where he’d confirmed that he and the legend are one and the same. Now you remember.

“We’ve met, haven’t we?” Thor says, giving you a curious glance.

You wonder if you should tell him. You don’t really blame him for not recognizing you immediately - you’d only met the once, only for a few minutes, and under very different circumstances. You are now sans golden dress, sans glowing skin, and sans uncomfortable sandals.

But he is unforgettable. For more than one reason, more than just the fact that he’s an Avenger and a Space Prince.

It’s those eyes. Lightning Eyes, to match his power.

Working with Hades for so long has left the impression that you can tell a lot about people by their eyes. And Thor’s are...a dreamy, warm shade of blue that reminds of you storms.

“We have,” is all you say. You think giving too much away right now might cause problems down the line, and you have a distraction to be the cause of.

He holds his hand out, just like Sam did. You shake it, but he doesn’t kiss your knuckles like Sam did. His kind of charm is different - not showy in the same way, but still a little over the top. Everything about him is over the top, though.

Thor sizes you up as you pull your hand back. You ignore the pang of something that crawls up your fingers, passes your elbow, and stings your shoulder at the lack of contact.

“Oh, you have?” Sam asks, his smirk turning cocky as he raises a brow and turns to Thor.

It takes him a moment, but he must find something remarkably memorable in your face. His eyes widen and he almost takes a step closer before stopping himself. Then his brows drop and his expression turns colder, clouds filling his blue eyes with gray.

“You were the woman with Doom the other night,” he says.

Sam turns back to you, the glee on his face slowly fading. He was there that night - you saw him, briefly, on your way out, but he hadn’t thought to look in your direction then.

“I was.” You cross your arms and lean back a bit. “And I’ve been wondering why you and your friends burst in on my business.” You say it seriously, but not without tipping your head a little flirtatiously. You’re not angry - just curious, and, again, a distraction.

Briefly, you wonder when Hades is gonna put whatever his plan is into action.

“Saving the city, as we do,” Thor answers. He’s still a little put off, but now he’s just as coy as you are. You ignore the fact that you kind of like going toe-to-toe with someone that looks as intimidating as he does. “We were wondering what a lady, such as yourself, was doing with him.”

“I’m sure you were,” you say.

And now neither of you have given anything away. You almost know what the Avengers were called in for - it’s not like Victor Von Doom is known for being a safe man. But you’ve been trying to figure out exactly what was going on at that party that would require Captain America’s presence.

You’ve almost forgotten Sam is still beside you. Sam Wilson, Falcon, an actual hero and celebrity, and you’ve more or less pushed his existence into the back of your mind.

That is, until he clears his throat and steps between you and Thor, muttering, “I’m gonna let y’all have your moment I guess,” before moving on to stand with the rest of the team.

Thor won’t take his eyes off you, and you won’t take yours off him. You can feel your chest and neck heat up, but you don’t do anything to signify it’s happening to Thor. He can’t know. You won’t even admit to yourself that he’s the cause of the flush.

“You could’ve been hurt,” he says, unaffected. Not like someone that would actually care if you had been hurt, but just as a matter of fact.

You shrug. “I wasn’t. Like I said, I knew what I was doing.”

You can see in his eyes that he doesn’t believe you. They never do you think. But that’s why you’ve sworn off men.

Well, that and the whole Rick situation. But now’s not the time to dig that mess out of its grave.

Thor gives you a not-at-all-inconspicuous once-over, but his eyes settle on yours again. That’s new you think.

“You’re not quite like many Midgardian women I’ve met, I must admit.”

You lean on one hip, absolutely hating that kind of line. But because he’s still looking you in the eyes, and because you’re now too enthralled in this tête-à-tête, you let him explain himself.

One more thought for you to ignore: you’re breaking every single rule you’ve given yourself over the last few years in regards to attractive men.

“Most are far more forthcoming.”

At that, you laugh. Not because Thor’s wrong, but because he’s probably right. You can’t speak for everyone, but you know you’ve become a secretive, manipulative person. It’s not like you’ve had much of a choice, post-Rick’s Resurrection.

“Good for them,” you respond.

Something in his face changes - his expression flattens into confusion, but it doesn’t seem to be pointed at you anymore. It’s like he can hear something far off, that he knows something isn’t right.

You know it, too. And, truth be told, you’re glad Hades is finally barging in.

But just like your body craved Thor’s touch after he shook your hand, you need him to look at you again. The second his lightning eyes are focused on the shaking ground, on the direction from which the vibrations are coming from, you want to pull him back to you. Not as a distraction, but for you.

Instead, he lifts an arm and holds his palm outstretched, as if he’s waiting for something. The sky darkens, and the distant vibrations get closer as screams are heard from blocks away.

A blast of air shoots past you, cut off only when Thor’s meaty fist wraps around the handle of a large, heavy-looking hammer. It’s edges are slanted and the markings look Scandinavian if you have to guess.

A flash of lightning, and Thor is no longer in civilian clothes. Scaled armor shines down his arms. His chest is covered in a dark chestplate that match dark pants that do nothing to hide the curves of his calves. Not that you’re looking or anything. A long red cape billows as the wind picks up around the park and the skies fill with heavy, burdened clouds.

You don’t even have time to move. Thor is off, flying through the air toward whatever Monster Hades has conjured. You don’t want to see the fight - not really - but you can’t force yourself to turn away.

Sam shoots you a look as you stand, stoic and observant, but ultimately chooses his team over some weird chick he only met moments ago.

People all around you are running. A huge purple beast peaks through the park, shaking everything in its wake that it does not automatically destroy. It’s claws are as long as your body, it’s teeth as sharp as broken glass. It yells in a terrible, metallic noise that rings in your ears.

The Avengers go after it. Most of them do, anyway. War Machine, to your surprise, stays on the ground and helps corral people away. Black Widow does, too, especially when she gets a look at War Machine falling behind.

You take in the running, the screaming, the looks of utter terror. For a second only, you let yourself feel guilt.

Because in the next second, you back up. You turn around and walk right into a black suit with a silk navy pocket square sticking out of the blazer. Your thoughts automatically shut off as Hades put his arm around your shoulders, despite you having told him time and time again how much you hate him touching you.

He steps lightly but quickly, zooming past the crowd, around screaming people that you have to block out. You need to.

Hades lives for the Dead. He loves the sound of screaming humans. Loves the idea of disaster, because disaster almost always means more bodies to fill up his dark, twisted world.

But you are not a God of the Underworld. You are not a being of the Underworld at all - not in theory or practice. Even if the God of the Underworld owns your soul, even if he’s tethered you to his kingdom, you are still a human, and you cannot live with yourself if you idly watch people die, knowing it’s your fault.

You’re just about to head into another section of the park when Hades stops. He looks over his shoulder as you try to regain your footing - transporting via God isn’t always the easiest thing to put a human body through.

A crash of thunder. A roar louder than the rest - much more easily recognizable as a person, rather than a monster. Raindrops pelt at you, slowly but heavily.

Then, silence.

It lasts a beat before the murmuring. You turn around, too, and realize that Thor is no longer around. Every human being has stopped moving - even the purple Monster has stopped moving, though it looks much more satisfied than anyone else around you.

A woman screams. A child cries. Hades chuckles.

His favorite kind of soul is the immortal kind. You still have trouble grappling with that idea.

Lightning breaks out across the sky. The storm is suddenly furious, the wind coming so fast it could knock you down if you weren’t being held up by Hades.

And then the lightning springs from inside the Monster. Its yelling is cut off, as is its elongated neck from its head.

You step away from Hades to get a better look.

Thor stands on the decapitated corpse, hammer raised, innards hanging off of his limbs and armor. Even from your distance, you can see he’s breathing is labored.

The crowd cheers. You take another step forward, unable to help the smile that comes over you. There’s a warmth in your chest that you can only deny because you’re wearing a jacket over your t-shirt.

But before you can rush over to the Avengers, before you can celebrate with the other humans around you, Hades catches up to you. His hot hand rests on your shoulder, and just as quickly, he brings you back to the Underworld.

#thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #hercules au #thor odinson #thor au #worth my while fic

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mediawhorefics · 4 years

Note

Hi Marie, 😭😍🤷‍♀️👿🌍 ?

.... i literally answered half of these and accidently refreshed the page and lost EVERYTHING D:

😭 Has a fic ever left you inconsolable?

i have a strict no unhappy ending policies so not really tbh. i read the solar flare fic once in 2013 and said never again. so i’ll read fics that make me feel all of the feels because i love the catharsis of angst, but it has to end well otherwise my fragile little heart can’t cope.

😍 What is your favourite fic trope?

i’ve answered this before but i’m gonna try to think of new stuff for you! i love historical aus. i love fake dating when the mood strikes but i love fake NOT dating even more where they have to keep their relationship secret for one reason or the other. i love messy/unplanned/clumsy love declarations/proposals where it all goes a little wrong and it’s not slick or rehearsed at all. like... give me ALL the blurted out confessions i eat that shit up. i love a slow burn. i don’t trust very quickly so i really struggle when people get together too quickly in fics lol.

🤷 What thing that your fandom loves do you just not “get”?

no disrespect to side ziam but side ziall is right there ???? also i love a nice lil height/size difference as much as the next gal but can we stop wanking over how ‘tiny’ is louis when harry is very often just as slender and barely taller? again.... to each their own, no disrespect but i don’t get it lol. like... their height difference is super cute and perfect why do y’all love to exaggerate it when it’s great as is ?

👿 What trope do you hate / avoid at all costs?

i’ve also answered this one BUT i forgot to say : illnesses & main character death. i love injury fics and even accident fics where there’s plenty of hurt/comfort but i truly can’t do fics where people get sick. i’m too hypochondriac for it i think haha. it gives me anxiety.

🌍 What is your dream AU?

most of my dream aus are aus i want to write tbh ??? so i’ll do some movie/tv shows au that i’d love to see....

the hour (bbc)

labyrinth (harry is the goblin king)

some indiana jones type of au

where are the star wars aus ???? why are there a billion hp aus but NO star wars aus???? y’all are cowards

i know tec is kinda like that but an outlander like time travel romance fic is always good and appropriate. i am always available to read it.

i’m george mackay trash atm (forgive me gay jesus the het urges have taketh hold of me in the form of a british *****) so i’d love a vaguely captain fantastic au where harry is the super clever yet socially inept weirdo who was raised in the woods and off the grid and louis is the guy he falls in love with when he goes off into the world on his own for the first time.

similarly, where’s the blast from the past au where harry was raised for 35 years in a nuclear fall out shelter and louis is the kind & patient man who helps him understand the Outside world ??

basically, i just want more weirdo harry !!!!!! the man is an aquarius we should all be delivering more re: slightly strange harold characterisation.

#about me #fic stuff #honestlytrulycompletelylarrie

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ao3feedsamifer · 6 years

Text

A Lesson in Pain, Agony, and Suffering

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2rtVjD8

by 48eyesand32teeth1sharptongue

They may always end up stuck together, but Sam is going to beat the Devil no matter what it takes. Sam loses a lot of battles, but he always wins the war.

Lucifer thinks Sam belongs to him and will do anything to keep it that way. However, he knows Sam's track record for beating him, and he's not taking "No," for an answer.

(Starts off sometime in the future, then kicks off after S13E21 and the timeline jumps around.)

Words: 17365, Chapters: 8/60, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Sam Winchester, Lucifer (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Kelly Kline, Other characters will be around

Relationships: Lucifer/Sam Winchester, Lucifer & Sam Winchester, Sam/Happiness and Sam/Curbstomping Lucifer and Punching him in the Face OTP, Very One-sided Lucifer/Sam, Lucifer/His Ego, Kelly Kline & Justice, Other endgame OTP is Sam/Freedom, Sam/Walking Out of Hell and Being Whole, It's mostly Sam/Lucifer for the majority you have been warned and disclaimed, Past Sam/Ruby but that was awful for Sam too, Sam/Jess but with a twist, past Samifer, but it was never happy because Lucifer is coercive, Kinda current Samifer, but Sam really is not happy about it at all, Side-pairing Dean/Castiel, but that is not the main focus

Additional Tags: Jack Kline & Sam Winchester Friendship, Sam endgame pairing is happiness but boy is it gonna be a long time to get there, Major Abuse, Rape, non-con, mind-rape, Torture, Psychological Torture, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Hurt Comfort Fic, mostly horror, Cage Trauma, Sam is not about this life, Sam deserves happiness but life is like nope, In Honor of S13E21, Major Canonical Changes, Semi-Canon Compliant except for the stuff I forget or deliberately change, Flashbacks, bi sam winchester, Gender-changing Lucifer, Lucifer is also Jess, Lucifer is Also Nick, Stalking and Pain, Also making Dean less abusive and toxic than canon or at least acknowledging it, Assumed Abusive John Winchester past references, Sam is Jack's biological parent in this, No technical Mpreg because it squicks me out, I don't know what else to tag this other than the title is a lot of what you get in this fic, A lot of torture in a lot of different forms, Mostly a horror fic with alternate endings and some fix it tacked on after the suffering, Sam was in the cage longer than he's lived and boy does that trauma show, Enochian, Conditioning, Horrible family dynamics, Lucifer chooses to be a horrible person and wants to use Sam anyway, Lucifer thinks he's in love but doesn't know or care about actually not being abusive, Toxic Jack and Lucifer relationship because Lucifer sucks, Kelly Kline & Sam, The power of friendship, Sam is a survivor, Maybe some Prince of Hell and White Eyed Demon resurrections if not related to time travel, Multiple Endings, Also Sam/Ruby mentions, Probably not explicit sex scenes or they will be implied but sparse because I'm bad at writing them, if this changes you'll know, When Sam is male presenting in the show he's using male pronouns, If Sam is female presenting going to change pronouns when convenient, OH ALSO Demon Blood Addiction, Angel Blood Addiction, AND A METRIC TON OF MANIPULATION, Lucifer wants Sam to love him and feels something, Gender changing Sam, Chuck can fight me, Probably time travel, Probably some reversed character deaths, Surrogacy, because nephilim birth body counts, Sam Winchester Has Powers, S13 Spoilers!, sam is just done, and barely holding on to reality, Lucifer pays lip service to the idea of redemption, but is too self-absorbed to actually change, Lucifer tries to be a Dad but has awful role models, nevermind his actual personality, Casifer, Lucifer is an awesome antagonist, I just wanted to write something extra painful, Sam working with Lucifer to fight Michael, even though he'd rather not, Non-Linear Narrative, Hallucifer probably will be mentioned somehow, Implied Sexual Content, Dubious Consent, some of their earlier S5 interactions will be different and less antagonistic, sort of, Lucifer's Cage, Sam Centric Narration mostly, But I might add Lucifer's perspective in there too, I can't believe I forgot, Stockholm Syndrome, yay, Sarcasm, also Kelly is Jack's surrogate mom, she still dies but might come back, also more s5 type lucifer, then character development, let's just say Lucifer is pissed his OTP seems in denial, and that they are defending humanity because lucifer, so that's gonna change canon a bit, but only slightly because stuff still seems to play out the same, watch me justify all my canon changes badly, Lucifer is like why don't you love me?, Sam is like have you seen yourself? Do you need an itemized list?, destroying parts of canon with fire through sheer laziness, Lucifer believes in Sam but doesn't want to, Lucifer takes the abandonment from God and latches on to dear life, to the person he thinks can't abandon him even if he tries because Fate, It would almost be tragic if Lucifer didn't treat Sam so bad, which negates all potential sympathy imo, Dysphoria, sort of ftm sam, but I'm not sure how solid gender is in this fic, because Lucifer is a genderless entity who just chooses to present as whatever is convenient, and Sam only has issues with the gender change when its magic, and inflicted against his will, because Lucifer thinks pregnancy will force Sam to be even more tied to him, and because he likes making Sam uncomfortable, because revenge for perceived wrongs, and disappointment, torture and murder and awfulness are not answers to life's problems, but Lucifer sure as heck is gonna try to make them, these tags could be a fic of their own at this point., also this is listed f/f because Lucifer and Sam switch genders in this fic, sam doesn't really care about gender too much, but the devil generally mirrors sam's gender unless there's an ulterior motive, because possessiveness and possession, honestly though Lucifer was going the Labyrinth Goblin King route in this, until Sam beat him and he had a tantrum, Possession, also Lucifer's MO is basically, everyone else: Lucifer no, and lucifer, canonically from every point ever: Lucifer yes, Majorly diverts from canon after I deal with S13 and the flashbacks, Sam trying to beat the Devil at his own game, Pseudo-redemption (except it fails for obvious reasons), Sam's level of hate and fear for Lucifer is canonical or even more, Plus past feelings, and past betrayal, Also Jack is a beautiful ray of sunshine, who also only deserves happiness, so him and Cas and Dean are gonna be trying to make things right, and maybe give a break from all the pain and suffering all the time, Trauma, All aboard the MAXIMUM ANGST TRAIN, Lucifer is like an Ex that won't accept you've broken up, Angels are also basically eldritch monsters, which is basically canon, Suicide Attempts, but we all know that doesn't work, also everything is this fic is completely out of order, until I finish it, because I can't write linearly at all

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2rtVjD8

#fanfic #ao3feed samifer #samifer #supernatural

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