#golden child: invisible crayon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenbeez-blog · 4 years

Text

ghost neon

#artgif #artphoto #animals #acid #artjaisini #animalprint #animated #animation #artschool #artistic #amazing #absolute #anime #author #aqua #aquamarine #art #artwork #artnews #amazingink #abstract #artandcrafts #art&crafts #artshow #active #addictive #addict #amulet #alphabet #arthistory #altering #auroraborealis #alien #aliens #astrology #astral #anal #aesthetic #adult #background #bokeh #badcat #bright #bohemian #balance #beads #bewitched #blue #boho #black #blackboard #beauty #bracelet #bubble #bubbles #ball #boost #believe #bling #bohochic #best #blackandwhite #b&w #butterfly #blowjob #babe #bear #billiondollar #rinestone #rinestones #vintage #antique #Christmastree #Christmas #catstar #creative #cat #catwoman #creation #cute #contemporary #cake #cupcake #cream #colorful #colors #coloring #coral #chalk #catrobot #cattoy #cs6 #coffee #charm #charmed #crafts #chocolate #clipart #caramel #celestial #crayons #comment #classic #classy #classical #cosmos #cosmic #cobalt #crystal #crystals #chic #cosmo #cosmopolitan #compo #composition #candle #catwalk #candlelight #crescentmoon #crescent #collage #cabochon #crown #tiara #childhood #child #collection #culture #cuteness #comics #clip #clipart #かわいい #顔映し #可愛い #diamond #detail #drugs #draunkensanta #decor #designer #design #drawing #dark #dear #diamonds #dream #dreamscape #dreaming #doodles #doodle #doodling #decoration #decorative #disco #discoball #dawner #davinci #digital #digitalart #drugs #dmt #divine #dyed #dots #devil #euphoria #effect #enhanced #enhance #epic #energy #energetic #eye #eyes #event #eventful #engaging #embroidery #elaborate #extraterrestrial #emerald #escapism #escape #hot #handmade #high #holidays #hipster #hypnocat #honey #hip #hippie #hypnotic #highlights #howto #happy #happyfriday #heart #hearts #heaven #heavenly #hallucinogen #hallucination #hologram #holly #handsome #horny #hellokitty #kitten #kitty #kiss #kawaii #kid #kids #kitsch #feline #filigree #flowers #flower #futuristic #fashion #fab #funky #fun #funtimes #fly #fancy #fortune #fortuneteller #FatherChristmas #fashionable #food #feminine #gif #gifcat #graphic #golden #glitter #glam #glamorous #graphicdesign #gifs #grunge #graffiti #glowinginthedark #green #gold #golden #glittered #ink #glitter #galaxy #galactic #gleitzeit #game #games #glow #groovy #graceful #gallery #glance #glossy #girl #gem #giggles #image #icicle #ice #icing #ink #inspiration #invisible #invisiblepainting #invisiblegirl #interactive #icarus #infinite #imagine #imagination #indigo #interesting #illustration #journey #jaisini #jewels #jolly #j #fancy #futurism #flower #follow #fan #fantasy #fantastic #femme #lovecats #lego #legocat #leopard #love #loved #lovely #light #loop #lines #luxury #lips #lsd #lune #laluna #look #lookbook #lol #lolcats #letters #latest #lavender #LOLITA #lesbian #party #prophecies #prophet #pussylips #pink #pic #polish #pauljaisini #painted #puzzle #painting #pussy #pussycat #purr #photo #photography #pony #paws #pixiedust #pinup #psychedelic #perfect #psychedelia #perception #pretty #perspective #phenomenon #phantom #purple #posh #professional #punk #princess #pastel #pastelcolors #porn #pop #popular #neon #neonpink #night #nutella #nyc #newyorkcity #newyork #new #narcissus

#meow #metalcat #manifesto #metal #mint #makeup #masterpiece #magic #magical #moon #moonlight #moving #movingpicture #me #manhattan #myth #mythological #mythology #mind #mindaltering #Mescaline #musical #music #magazine #monogram #mood #moody #ornaments #optical #opticalcat #opticalillusion #opart #ornamental #orange #original #outer #outlandish #orgasm #thanksgiving #tiger #turquoise #transparent #textures #trip #talented #talent #toy #tranquil #topaz #teen #teenager #seer #surreal #surrealism #santa #SantaClaus #SaintNick, #snow #snowflake #spacemen #space #spacecats #spacecraft #sketchbook #sharpie #stickers #star #starlight #stars #stardust #sparkle #sparkles #swag #sapphire #silver #sketch #series #sparklers #sweet #sweets #sparkling #style #stylish #shoutout #stimulant #sequins #stims #skull #skulls #super #superior #supreme #sexy #sex #sky #surface #sacred #signature #signed #sign #selfie #stelly #stellyriesling #sexygirls #sexygirl #sexybabe #thanksgiving #tiger #turquoise #transparent #textures #trip #trippy #tips #topaz #twilight #talisman #texture #trendy #trending #teddy #teddy #vision #visual #vintage #vibrant #Victoriasecret #video #view #viewpoint #vanilla #vivid #videoclip #rustic #roses #robot #rainbow #reflection #religious #robot #red #redrose #rose #ruby #reincarnation #relax #relaxed #rich #reflection #radiant #ruffles #romance #romantic #quest #warm #wallpaper #white #wonder #wow #weekend #warmth #worship #zebra #zone #3d #upper #universe #unique #unusual #CantWait #Celebrate #Celebration #ChristmasDay #ChristmasEve #ChristmasGifts #ChristmasMiracle #ChristmasNYC #ChristmasParty #ChristmasSnow #ChristmasSpirit #ChristmasTime #ChristmasTradition #ChristmasTree #December #Decorate #Decorating #Decoration #Excited #Family #FavoriteGiftFriday #FelizNavidad #Festive #Gift #Gifts #Hannukah #HappyChristmas #HappyHolidays #HoHoHo #Holiday #Holidays #itsChristmas #Kwanzaa #MerryChristmas #MerryXmas #Miracle #MISTLETOE #Navidad #Noel #Reindeer #SeasonsGreetings #SaintNick #Santa #SantaClause #SilverBells #Snow #SnowBallSunday #Snowflakes #Snowman #StNick #WhiteChristmas #WinterWonderland #WishList #WrappingPaper #Xmas #Presents #StockingStuffer #CelebrateChrist #Cookies #Christ #ChristChild #ChristsBirth #HappyBirthdayJesus #HappyNewYear #NewYear #NewYears

#tulip #gif #pic #sparkles #amazing #art #glam #fashion #new #happyfriday #Decoration #Excited #Family #FavoriteGiftFriday #FelizNavidad #Festive #Gift #Gifts #Hannukah #HappyChristmas #HappyHolidays #HoHoHo #Holiday #Holidays #intricate #detail #pattern #rose #disco #techno #grundge #see #eye #pauljaisini #prophetic #artist #news #artnews #style #design #template #digital #crafts #glitter #sparkle #Multi-Colored Background, #Fiber Optic, #SoundMixer #multicolored #equalizer #backgrounds #spectrum #vector #coloredbackground #vibrantcolor #wavepattern #purple #lightnaturalphenomenon #smooth #modern #electromagnetic #physics #illustration #turqoisecolored #waving #texturedeffect #gradient #colorgradient #fantasy #blurredmotion #changingform #concepts&topics #colorimage #craft #glowing #fractal #motivation #spirituality #velvet #transparent #zigzag #led #pixels #retro #disco #multi #colour #png #quicktime #jpeg #gif #loops seamlessly #retro #retro flowers #Christmas Visuals #Snow Visuals #latest visuals #motion backgrounds #fire #fireworks #smoke #mirror glitter disco ball #strobe #lightning strike #retro psychidelic 60’s 70’s 80’s #led pixel visuals #club visuals #dj visuals #disco visuals #rgb led #diy #electronics #grid #lcd #led #liquidcrystall #matrix #patterns #redgreenblue #sparkfun #typography #cosmicflow #hitech #flash #flashingcolors

Posted by maureenart2013 on 2015-12-13 14:40:05

Tagged: , neon , pink , drape , window , curtain , ghost , artist-ghost , purple , gif , art-gif , trending-gif , sexy-color , erotic , hot , toxic , happyvalentinesday , love , sensual , romance , viral-gif , paul-jaisini , jaisini , gleitzeit-gif , luxury-art , luxury-image , glitter , sparkles , bright , art-news , still-image-dead , gif-art , new-art , fashion , design , unique , timeless , illusion , opart , hypnotic , addiction , drugs , dope , trippy , hallucination , frame , composition , fine-art , high-style , masterpiece , museum-quality , gleitzeit-manifesto , bring-high-art-to-people , invisible-painting , paul-jaisini-invisible-painting , invisible-girl , invisible-girlfriend , loved , alone , sad , mad , sleepless , insomnia , nite , emo , techno , groovy , boho , want , fave , stand-out

The post ghost neon appeared first on Good Info.

4 notes · View notes

kpopmultifan · 1 year

Video

youtube

Golden Child has released the MV for “Crayon,” the title track of their 3rd Japanese single “Invisible Crayon.”

1. Crayon 2. Weekends 3. Replay (Japanese Version) 4. Ra Pam Pam (Japanese Version)

[Apple Music/iTunes] [Spotify] [YouTube Music]

#golden child #mv #golden child: mv #golden child: crayon #golden child: invisible crayon #japanese #golden child: japanese

12 notes · View notes

hysteriemp3 · 1 year

Audio

#weekends #invisible crayon #golden child #2023 #2020s #audio

5 notes · View notes

babywarg · 5 years

Text

ironstrange fic: Love Through Time

This ran on a bit long (close to 5k words). I can’t seem to write shortfic anymore, help T_T

Does anyone else love the new dark blue Tumblr theme? I love it. So soothing to the eyes

Notes: This is a fill for this prompt: “Tony discovers an old drawing of, and finally remembers, his invisible friend Stephen from when he was a child.”

originally on AO3.

tagging @cumberunicorn-ceioln, as requested :)

“Mr. Stark,” Edward Jarvis greeted. “I’ve come with the items you requested.”

“Hm?’ Tony’s mind leapt out of his musing. He was in his laboratory, trying to solve a particularly sticky schematics issue with a new suit he was developing. “I didn’t request anything.”

“You did, sir,” Jarvis gently corrected. “You said I should salvage whatever I felt was necessary of your family’s summer home, and bring them to you.”

“Oh...yeah.”

The Starks’ summer home. It was a white elephant; nobody wanted to rent it, and selling it off was proving to be troublesome, considering the high real estate rates in the city it was in.

Tony had thought it best to sell or auction off the things in it, and let the space itself rot, if that was its fate.

“So the auction guys have everything else, right? How much was left?”

“Not much, sir,” Jarvis informed him. “I took the liberty of using the old toy box in the nursery as a receptacle. It was where most of the items were stored, anyway.”

Jarvis held out a small, plain wooden box to him.

“Very good, Jarvis, thanks,” he absently said as he took it.

When Jarvis had left, Tony opened the box.

There were old medals from summer school, old photographs...encouraging notes from his mother. Those were always a treat.

Then there were the old drawings.

The crayon sketches Maria Stark had kept, for no good reason.

One of them made Tony pause.

Made time stop.

***

On the sketch was a tall, lanky man with a long face.

A loose blue long-sleeved shirt.

A red cloak.

Blue-green eyes.

And gray hair brushed back from his temples.

The man was standing beside a little boy with dark hair, whom Tony presumed to be himself.

Little Tony held a wrench (it was called an adjustable spanner, he knew now) on his right hand.

The man in the cloak had a halo of golden light around his left hand.

It was a cute, innocent child’s drawing.

Which was why Tony couldn’t explain the sudden, splitting headache he got after looking at it.

“FRIDAY,” he said to the room, “save everything, but keep the simulations running. I need a nap.”

“Will do, boss,” the room answered.

Tony dragged himself to the couch in the living room upstairs, and threw himself down on it. He didn’t make it to any of the bedrooms. He didn’t really want to.

He just wanted his headache to go away.

So, right after collapsing, he closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

***

The very first time Stephen made an appearance was when Tony was still in the cradle.

It stands to reason Tony was too little to remember.

Baby Tony had been awakened by the loud male voice yelling “NO!!” that came out of nowhere. He had been frightened. He had cried.

He had been too little to comprehend the loud noises. The lights that had flooded his room. The tall shadow that had been bent over his cradle and his unsuspecting self. The screaming that had come from his tiny, panicked lungs.

The large, shaking hands that had picked him up, rocked him until he calmed down.

And the soft voice that had said “Ssh, I’m here now. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re loved. You’re safe.”

He was starting to fall asleep again, when he felt himself being lowered gently back down to his cradle. He fidgeted, unable to help himself.

That was when his mother raced into the room to pick him up, hold him close.

She said only the same things that the low, male voice had said.

And, doubly reassured, little Tony was able to go back to sleep, finally.

***

The first time he realized he was a Stark was when his father slapped him across the face.

He’d fallen from his bike, scraped his knee, and wept in pain in front of his father.

His father had not liked that he had fallen off the bike. He liked it even less that he cried afterwards.

“Stark men are made of iron,” his father had told him.

He was 6 years old. Before that time, he had thought he was...

...happy.

Not a Stark.

Not a Stark man.

And certainly not made of iron.

But these didn’t make sense to Tony, at the time. These words, the sting, just burned into him, without explanation.

His father walked away, and told everyone watching to leave along with him. “He fell on his own, let him learn to stand on his own,” was his specific instruction.

So 6-year-old Tony found himself alone, sitting on the ground, sobbing and nursing his wounded knee.

A shadow fell over him. He looked up to see a tall, lanky man, wearing a large red cape that blocked Tony’s view of the sun.

“That doesn’t look good,” the man said. His voice was low, soothing and oddly familiar.

Tony wiped his nose. “Who’re you?”

“Someone who shouldn’t be here...”

The man sat in front of Tony.

“...but I guess supernatural threats aren’t all I’m here to shield you from.”

He reached out as if to touch Tony’s knee. Tony flinched but did not move away. His hand stopped short of skin making contact.

Tony noticed that his hand was shaking.

A halo of golden light appeared on the man’s hand. Tony could feel it: it was warm.

Within seconds, the scrape on his knee healed. It was as if it had never even been there.

“Wow!” Tony exclaimed happily. “You fixed it! Thanks, mister!”

The man smiled.

“No need to thank me,” he said to the child. “I’m a doctor. It’s what I do.”

***

“Who’s that, Tony?”

He held up his unfinished crayon drawing for his mother to see.

On the drawing was a tall, thin man with a red cloak. Tony was still starting to draw a dark-haired little boy standing beside him.

“My friend,” Tony proudly answered. “Doctor Magic. We’ve been hanging out.”

Maria Stark smiled. “Is that really his name?”

Tony shrugged. “I call him that. He’s my friend, so I got to name him.”

Tony went back to finishing his drawing.

Maria Stark wondered if she had reason to be nervous. Tony was always surrounded by adults tasked by her husband Howard to look after him. But she didn’t remember any one of them having blue-green eyes and black hair that grayed at the temples.

Still...a man in a cape, and a glowing hand? Surely this was someone Tony had made up.

“I’m really glad you made a friend, Tony. Maybe your father and I can meet him sometime?”

“No...Doctor Magic says only I can see him. He says that’s because he’s a wizard.”

“A wizard, is he?”

“Yep! He’s magic. That’s how he fixes things.”

He just had a thought. He put down his crayons and faced his mom, his face beaming with excitement.

“Mom, when I grow up, I wanna fix things, too. I wanna be a wizard!”

“Oh dear,” Maria chuckled, “don’t let your father hear that.”

Tony pouted.

***

“That’s a bad idea, Tony,” Doctor Magic said.

Still pouting, he demanded: “Why can’t I be a wizard?”

Doctor Magic laid his hand on Tony’s head.

“We all have our place,” he said to the child gently. “We’re both around to fix things. I can do it with magic. You can do it...in other ways.”

“I don’t want to do it in other ways! I want to be like you!”

Doctor Magic was about to protest, but the child lunged forward and hugged him, hard. It took the breath out of his lungs for a bit.

That was the only way Tony knew how to hold his first friend. His only friend.

“When I’m a wizard,” Tony muttered, “I can be with you all the time. You never have to leave. And we can go anywhere. We can go away.”

Doctor Magic pulled away briefly, so he could go down on one knee. That way, he could wrap his arms around Tony.

His magic cloak wrapped itself around Tony, too. The only time Tony ever felt warmer, was in the arms of his mother.

“I’ve already stayed too long, Tony,” Doctor Magic whispered. “I just...didn’t leave right away because I wanted to see you happy and smiling a bit longer. I need to leave again soon.”

“Take me with you?” Tony pleaded. “And my Mom, too?”

Doctor Magic sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said to the boy. “It’s for the best.”

He wouldn’t leave Tony upset, though. They spent the rest of that last summer day together, with Doctor Magic conjuring fanciful images and stories out of thin air, amusing the little boy until tiredness and sleep took him.

6-year-old Tony woke in his bed alone, from a dream of blue-green butterflies and a soft, low voice telling him about how he was safe, how he was cared for, and how he would never be alone.

***

Tony couldn’t sleep. So many thoughts were running through his head.

And the headache still wouldn’t vanish.

“FRIDAY,” he said into thin air, “dial the Sanctum. Try to reach Doctor Strange for me.”

After a long pause, thin air reported: “Sorry, boss. Wong says he’s not available. Says he’s on a mission.”

“When will he be back?”

“Didn’t say, boss.”

For a moment he considered going back downstairs and looking at the drawing in the box again. But something told him it wouldn’t make his headache any better.

There was no earthly explanation for why he’d made a drawing of a man who looked like Doctor Strange when he was little.

The memories were a blur, and trying to make sense of them was physically painful, but he was sure he’d made that drawing. He remembered showing it to his mother.

He remembered golden light, and the scar on his knee disappearing. How warm it was to be enveloped in a red cloak, those arms.

But it couldn’t be him.

***

Tony saw him again on the night of his parents' funeral. He was 21 years old, out drinking and partying, as perhaps everyone expected. It was “his way of dealing with grief.”

He was fumbling in his pocket for the keys to his car, when he saw someone coming in out of the shadows, from the corner of his eye.

The newcomer stepped into the light: it was a tall guy wearing a weird blue tunic and a ridiculously swishy red cape.

“Hey, man,” Tony greeted, slurring. “Neat costume. It isn’t Halloween, though, right?”

“Tony,” the man said firmly. “Don’t get in that car.”

“Mmh? Why not?”

“In a matter of minutes, a powerful, formless entity will find its way to you. If you’re on the road when it happens, it’s going to be much harder for me to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Tony laughed incredulously. “From what? Vicious balloon animals?” He waved the man away. “Get lost, doc.”

“Doc,” The man repeated. He stepped forward. “You remember, don’t you? You know who I am.”

Tony stopped short of pressing the button to unlock his car.

“Can’t be him, though,” he answered, without looking at the man. “Wasn’t real.”

The man snatched his car keys from his hand, held them up to the level of Tony’s eyes.

“That real enough for you?”

With one swift gesture, the keys in his hand disappeared.

Tony chuckled.

“You know I got spares of those. But I’m not taking them out now, ‘cause you’re just gonna magic them away again.”

“I know you have a spare key. I’m imploring you not to use it.”

“Sure you’re not a mugger? ‘Cause a mugger’s easier...”

“The worst-case scenario is that in the morning, people are going to find the wreck of your car at the bottom of a cliff and conclude that you’d driven yourself off the road while drunk. Which, in fairness, is something you’re likely to do in this state.

“What will really happen is that a creature will attack you, you will lose control of the car, and the creature will manage to kill you, as he wanted.” His voice softened unexpectedly. “Trust me, Tony. I fix things. Let me fix this one before it breaks.”

Inebriated as he was, Tony had a hard time looking the guy in the eye. But those blue-green-what-the-fuck-color-is-that magic eyes just drew him in.

“Look.” He faced the newcomer, though he had a hard time staying upright. “If you’re who I think you are, I haven’t seen you in years, and you don’t get to make demands of me. I don’t owe you shit.”

“There’s no time - “ the newcomer began. But then he caught himself and sighed.

“- you’re right, Tony. You deserve an explanation. So this is my proposition. Stay with me here, where I can keep you safe. Sober up just a little, just enough. And I promise I’ll explain everything.”

Tony considered this for a moment. He truly wasn’t in a hurry to go home.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to sober up in this weirdo’s company. Besides, there was something about the way the man said “keep you safe” that sounded...real.

***

“Before you say anything,” Tony began, “I want to let you know how shitty you are.”

Tony sat on the hood of his car, nursing a cup of coffee his companion had magicked out of nowhere.

His companion wasn’t drinking anything. He simply sat beside Tony, alert and listening.

“You stayed with me just one summer, then whoosh, you were gone,” Tony kept griping. “Some imaginary friend. I thought you guys could be summoned on command.”

“We’re not genies in lamps,” the older man retorted. “And I don’t even count as imaginary. I’m flesh and blood, just like you.”

“Yeah? Then you got a name, too? Pretty sure it’s not ‘Doctor Magic.’ “

“Close, actually.” The man smiled. “My name is Doctor Stephen Strange. You can call me Stephen.”

“How about I call you a jerk?”

Stephen said nothing.

“I waited and waited, but you didn’t come back.”

He said it into his coffee cup, almost as if Stephen shouldn’t have overheard. He sounded like a little kid. 21 years old, a man now, old enough to drink himself stupid and drive himself off a cliff.

But to Stephen, he sounded 6 years old and lost.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t with you just that summer.”

Tony snorted. “You were the only playmate I had at the time. I’d recall if you were around.”

“Do you remember having dreams about me, at various points in your life?”

Tony blinked.

This was the first time dreams were brought up.

On the night before he was shipped off to boarding school, he had dreamed of Doctor Magic holding him close, saying he would be all right...and he remembered waking up from that dream thinking yeah, being away from his Mom and his bedroom-turned-laboratory wouldn’t be so bad...

He also remembered dreams where Doctor Magic fought off things that attacked him - a demon, a dragon, a giant disembodied cloud. Sometimes, Doctor Magic came off the battle badly wounded, and just left...but sometimes, he emerged relatively unscathed, and in a good mood, and he stuck around a bit longer.

At times like those, Doctor Magic spirited little Tony away. He showed Tony other dimensions, other timelines - realities where his father wasn’t a gigantic dick, and where he didn’t have a father, or a mother even. Places where flora and fauna that didn’t exist on earth, thrived. Animals that talked, colors that the human mind could never have conceived of...

Remembering all this gave Tony a headache. He touched his fingers to his temple.

“...Ow.”

“Yep.” Stephen was unfazed by the overt display of pain. “That was me. Saying hi.”

When Tony was able to shake off the discomfort, he continued:

“You...really jumped through time, into my dreams,” - he narrowed his eyes at Stephen - “just to say hi?”

“Well, no. Technically they weren’t dreams.” Stephen scratched his head, as he thought of the words that might explain it best. “Each time you had a ‘dream,’ it was me pulling you into...I don’t know what else to call it except a ‘mirror dimension.’ Most of the time, it was because I had to fight an entity that was coming for you. Then wipe as much of our encounter from your memory as I could, before restoring you to reality.”

Tony’s still-sobering mind was having trouble keeping up.

“Wiping the what from my what?” He shook his head, in a feeble attempt to shake understanding into it. “You can do that??”

Stephen looked a little guilty.

“Memory spells aren’t foolproof. They’re like - throwing a blanket over the part of your brain that remembers certain things. They don’t really erase anything, but rather obscure them, until they’re triggered and the blanket comes off.

“In your case, it seems that while you remember having had a ‘Doctor Magic’ to play with as a child, chances are you’ll remember every encounter we’ve ever had. And if they don’t make sense, your mind is going to process them as dreams.” He narrowed his eyes at Tony, as if studying how his brain worked. “I think I’ll have to do something about that...”

Unsettled by his staring, Tony leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees.

“You promised me an explanation,” he reminded Stephen. “Why are you even...stalking me? If that’s the word? Why bother with me at all?”

Stephen leaned forward as well, linked his fingers together.

“I can tell you all of this, because in the end I’m going to wipe every memory you’ve ever had of me, and you won’t remember a thing.”

“Cool. Fun. Hit me.”

He wasn’t taking this seriously. Which worked to Stephen’s benefit. He didn’t want a scene at the end of all of this.

“Many years from now,” Stephen began, “a powerful time-traveling being is going to pick a fight with me. It’s going to be a big fight. He’s going to want me dead.

“But since he won’t be able to kill me, he’ll go back in time and try to kill the people who are most important to me. I’ve already recruited the help of interdimensional beings to make sure my parents and family are safe. He won’t be able to get to them, so they’ll be able to get to their natural ends...”

“ ‘Natural ends’?” Tony interrupted.

Stephen answered, “They’ll die, Tony. All of them. Leaving me alone. Like they’re supposed to.”

The resigned tone in his voice told Tony what he needed to know: Doctor Stephen Strange travels through time, but doesn’t meddle with fate.

That wasn’t enough of an answer for the young, emotionally fragile Tony.

“However, the help I’ve been able to secure is limited to people with whom I share blood ties.” Stephen looked at his younger companion. “And because you don’t...he can get to you.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because I care about you, Tony. That makes you a target.”

“Then why didn’t you stop my dad from hurting me or my Mom?” he asked, in a deliberately hostile tone. “If it’s true that you cared...you were there, you must have known. Why didn’t you help?”

It was a loaded question. Hard enough to answer while looking into an angry young Tony’s eyes. So Stephen looked away.

“I can’t interfere with what happened to you. I can only save your life, during all those times you were never meant to die.”

“Okay, then answer me this, wise guy: why do you have to save my life? Why not just let me die?”

He could almost see Stephen’s heart breaking through his eyes.

“Because you’re important, Tony.”

“Oh yeah? Important to whom?”

“The world, mostly. But also me.” He took a deep breath, and sighed out, “I love you, Tony. The older you. The one you’ll be decades from now.”

Tony fell silent.

“I know that of all the crazy things I’ve told you tonight, this is the craziest, so I’m going to give you a moment to process that...”

Tony took that moment. When he was done, he asked slowly, “Why am I not allowed to remember you telling me that?”

“Because, in the future, you don’t love me back. You don’t even know how I feel.” Stephen smiled sadly at him. “That’s how it is. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Tony thought about it some more. Then he leapt off the hood to pace a bit.

“You love me, though, right?” he said loudly to Stephen, presently. “Now - I mean, right now? You love me? Enough to save my life, at least?”

Stephen noticed a young couple walking nearby, staring at Tony and whispering. He realized they must feel weird, watching Tony pointing to his car and yelling “You love me” at it.

As per the deflection spell he’d always been careful to cast, nobody but Tony could see him.

Fortunately, a drunk, raving young Tony wasn’t exactly an uncommon sight in those parts. (By this point, Tony was actually completely sober. But nobody else needed to know that.)

“Tony,” he answered, “I love the version of you that I met after he’s gone through all the pain. All the heartbreak. All the mistakes he never got the chance to fix. The person who had survived so long and so well without me. Given the chance, I would love him over and over.”

Stephen left his seat on the hood, walked up closer to the young man.

“But if you’re not going to be that person...I don’t know how I’ll feel. If you grow up remembering me, and the things I’ve said and done, you may no longer be the Tony Stark I met. The one I’d love through time.”

Tony stuck his hands in his pockets.

“So,” he carefully began, “let me get this straight - if I remember you...you may not love me? Ever?”

Stephen nodded. “That’s...one of many likely outcomes.”

“And if you don’t love me...the creature you’re fighting now doesn’t come after me at all. Do I get that right?”

Stephen paused, then nodded again.

“That...is also a likely outcome.”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s better for you to let me remember, and to just not fall in love with me as a result?”

A look of sadness crossed Stephen’s face.

“Tony,” he said softly. “What makes you think I’d want a future where I don’t fall in love with you?”

Tony stared long and hard at the person who had just said what was either the sweetest or the most terrifying thing ever said to him.

Stephen returned that stare evenly. He had only told the truth so far. There was no reason to falter.

Eventually, Tony looked away, asked, “Am I really worth it?”

“You’re worth everything.”

“...All right. Then I don’t care. I don’t care if I don’t remember you.” He looked back at Stephen again, spread his arms wide. “If there’s a chance in hell you’ll fall for me, I’ll take it.”

His sudden light-heartedness worried Stephen. Was there something the boy misunderstood? “Tony...”

“Listen, doc. This is just me being practical. A magic man falls for me in the future, goes back in time and saves my life - why would I say no to that?”

He looked Stephen up and down and smirked.

“Besides...I can do much worse, you know?”

Both of Stephen’s eyebrows rose. He laughed incredulously.

“Are you seriously hitting on me right now?” He reached out for a friendly pat on the boy’s upper arm. “Grow some decent facial hair first, then we’ll talk.”

Tony caught his hand. Held it. It trembled in his grip.

“Doc...”

Then he caught Stephen’s gaze, held it, too.

“Don’t let older me stay in the dark about your feelings, okay?” He released Stephen’s hand. “I don’t know what goes down when it happens...but at the very least...I’m sure it won’t kill him to know.”

“Won’t it?” Stephen’s smile was sad again. “Trust me, Tony, your future self has a lot of problems. Adding to them is...not in my job description.”

The smile Tony shot back at him was radiant with confidence.

“Haven’t you heard, doc? Stark men are made of iron. He can take it.”

His fearlessness was infectious. Stephen found himself feeling like things were on the right track.

Much like how the older Tony made him feel.

As Stephen thought about this, there was a rumbling, a sound of thunder just over their heads.

And there was no time to think of anything else.

“He’s here,” Stephen pointed out. “It’s time, Tony.”

Tony nodded, suddenly grim. “Do it, doc.”

Stephen took a deep breath, then held his hand up in front of Tony’s face. Already, a golden glow was starting to emerge from the center of his palm.

Tony closed his eyes.

***

These were the memories hidden away:

All the kind words. All the peaceful embraces. The other worlds and dimensions and the blue-green butterflies that used to give the little boy so much comfort to watch. The laughter and corny jokes and assurances that everything was going to be all right.

All the way back to the cradle.

Except.

Stephen was going to let him keep one.

The only memory that was harmless to keep.

The memory of lights, then soothing darkness, and warmth, and a voice telling him he was safe.

***

“He may not come back today,” Wong warned him.

“Yep, I heard you.” Tony proceeded into the Sanctum.

“Those might be wilted by the time he returns...”

“No problem.” Tony glanced down at the bouquet of blue and mint-green roses in his arm. “I’ll just get new ones.”

He could hear Wong shaking his head behind him. Wong had a way of shaking his head that carried across the room.

Something told Tony he’d better get used to that head-shake.

Per tradition, Stephen was supposed to appear in the topmost floor of the Sanctum after a mission.

That was where Tony saw it fit to wait.

Hours passed. He’d paced up and down the floor. Finished reading through his daily news feed twice over (narrowly avoiding some unnecessarily nasty Twitter wars in the process). Barely kept himself from touching anything, thus avoiding certain death.

Soon it was getting dark. Still no Stephen. With a sigh, Tony prepared to go home. He was going to take the flowers down to Wong, who hopefully had a large vase stashed away...

Then the portal appeared.

Tony stood with the flowers in his arms, waiting for Stephen to step through.

Except Stephen stumbled through.

His robe and cloak were drenched in green liquid. Which, Tony was willing to bet, was actually someone else’s blood.

The flowers fell to the floor. Tony rushed to Stephen’s side.

Stephen failed to register surprise as soon as he saw Tony in the Sanctum. “It’s done,” he said between fast, ragged breaths. “It’s done.”

“You got him?” Tony held him up by the arm. Stephen leaned his weight on Tony, used him to stay upright.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got him.” He blinked, suddenly aware of where he was and who he was talking to. “Wait. Got who?”

“The creature that was trying to kill me in the past. You were chasing him down, right?”

Stephen looked at Tony, eyes wide.

“Yeah. Took him down just now. Slippery bastard. But you’re not supposed to know about that...”

Tony took out a piece of folded paper from his pocket, showed it to Stephen.

It was the drawing he’d made as a child.

The surprise in Stephen’s face vanished as soon as he saw it.

“...Oh.”

“Yeah.” Tony folded the paper and stuck it back in his coat pocket before Stephen could get any green gunk on it. “So, when were you going to tell me?”

Stephen stood apart from Tony. Brushed some of the blood off his person seemingly as a way of gaining a semblance of dignity.

“Never,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Because this was a Master of the Mystic Arts problem. Iron Men not required.”

“Not about the mission, smartass.” Tony wouldn’t stop staring into his face. “I meant how you felt. What you told me on the night of my parents’ funeral.”

Stephen was still catching his breath. He kept his eyes on Tony’s all the while.

“I think I’d better learn how to level up those memory spells,” he muttered.

“Yeah.” Tony turned, started walking away. “Clearly, you suck at them.”

He picked up the roses from the floor, brought them to Stephen, who received them with a puzzled look.

“What are these for?” Stephen asked.

“So you won’t get too surprised when I do this.”

Tony leaned forward and touched their lips together.

The roses ended up on the floor again.

“Jesus,” Tony laughed. “You have any idea how hard those were to find? Handle with care, okay?”

“You dropped them first,” Stephen pointed out.

“Fair enough. Look.” Tony put on his “boardroom” voice, the one time-tested for getting desirable results. “You once told me you might not have feelings for me anymore if I remembered you. Now I do. I remember all of you. From the time you saved me back in the cradle and told me I was loved.” He spread his arms wide. “What now?”

“What now?” Stephen said breathlessly. “Here’s what now.”

Stephen kissed him again, shamelessly getting green gunk all over Tony’s newest Tom Ford.

At that precise moment, all parties in the room stopped caring about the roses on the floor.

#ironstrange #tony stark #stephen strange #iron man #doctor strange #strangeiron #wong

39 notes · View notes

imagine-loki · 6 years

Text

Lonely Endeavors

TITLE: Lonely Endeavors CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 AUTHOR: written-loki-imagines ORIGINAL IMAGINE:Imagine Loki being a sickly child. You’re the child of a palace maid and ordinarily you keep your distance from the princes, but one day you find Loki in his room, gazing at Thor and the other children playing outside from his bed. You decide to keep him company, reading books with him and even sneaking pastries from the kitchens for him while no one is looking. RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: Loosely based on imagine and I suggest reading the first chapter for context. Sorry for all grammatical errors, i try my best to catch them but I miss things.

The dusty off-white rocking horse teetered in the slight light of the room coming from the window. The slivers of golden light held particles that danced their way down to what they were shining on. The air changed upon entering the room, smells attached with memories wafted towards you. Smells of finger paints and broken crayons, misused clay and small wooden swords. The smells of your childhood long forgotten until now as if the memories were waiting for you to return to them.

A lone finger swirled across the old oak of the window seat many stories came to life at. Returning back with a thin, almost invisible dust layer on your fingertip.

“I thought i’d find you here,” he spoke in a voice like that of a lover, almost silent and meant only for you to hear.

“I didn’t see you come in,” You replied still being hit with calming waves of nostalgia.

Thor chuckled to himself slightly, making his way across the room over to you, toys littered the reflective floors giving him obstacles on his way to you. He took long strides confidently, shoulders back, face fixated on yours greeting you with a smile.

His heavy metal armor clanked with each heavy footed step he took further into the room. Thor grew into his features over the long centuries you had known him. No longer was he a goofy looking kid with round rosy red cheeks and short messy blonde hair. His red cape swished around his ankles and onto the floor sweeping up the dirt and dust left from the years on no use.

“Sorry i missed training your mother was running allthe wedding plans she already choose and it’s to late to change them by me.” You swiped your hand across the window seat and wiped the now dusted hand off on the fabric of your leather pants. You pushed yourself up to sit horizontally in the window and looked out at the others still training outside

“That explains why you missed training but not why you’re in here.” Thor managed to get to you, kneeling down and resting his head on his arms atop the window seat. He peered up at you while you actively tried to ignore the warmth of his gaze, choosing to blankly stare at the others outside enjoying the day.

“It’s okay to think about it (Name), I do as well,” Thor once again demanded your attention with full force and effort, his cool and weighted hand found yours that was resting in your lap. You could feel him staring holes into you even if you couldn’t bear to face it head on.

“We’re getting married Thor I doubt this is the best time to dwindle on the past,” Your voice may have been cold when you tugged back and freed your hand from his grasp. Even the light pouring into the room stilled upon the silence you had invoked. Thor sighed and stood once more, the shifting of his body could be heard quite clearly from under all the layers.

You and Thor had never talked about how either of you felt towards the fast approaching marriage. Once you both had become of age it was clear why Odin encouraged your friendship between the two princes. Even as a young and tattered orphan he saw you as an object to betroth his eldest to. Which he did the first chance he got, it ensured Asgard a princess and Thor a family for when he ascends to the throne. Even the pairing made sense, no longer were you that broken girl dependent on others for safety. No more were you afraid of monsters and the darkness that came as soon as the sun set, no, now you were a decorated warrior and general of the Asgardin army just like your parents would have wanted you to be. Strong, tactical and wise with a goal to irradiate the jotun as an entire race of monsters.

Still it all felt like anything other than reality, marrying your best friend who you were raised along side like siblings. It couldn’t have felt anymore confusing than it already did. Thor was your friend, your family, your equal and now he was to be your husband. His affection and attitude towards you had never changed after the engagement and even then it all felt much more different paired with the thought that you were to be wed before the night was over.

“Is there not a better time? You came here on your own accord for a reason (Name), tell me what that may be."

You finally looked at him seeing much more concern than you would have liked to be across his features. You pulled your eyes up to meet his still and serene blue ones, a small smile pulled on the corners of your mouth but never spread across your face. Thor in all his gentle giant glory couldn’t help but worry about the thoughts you had on your mind. Forcing you to voice them regardless if he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

"Do you think he’ll come?” You spoke confidently as always, not bothering to whisper or hinder the words you had been wanting to ask for years.

Thor’s whole body went limp and his once strong and confidant stance faltered at your voice. His eyebrows brought themselves together leaving little lines of disapproval over his face.

“(Name),” Thor started, shoulders down and head tilted. You could already guess what he was going to say or tell you to think and yet even his slightly commanding and disappointed tone brought you satisfaction.

“If he were dead do you not think your mother would have the decency to tell us? Now more than ever?” You swung your legs and watched as Thor hardened bit by bit looking like his father did when he was confronted in a way he did not wish. If you were weaker and more vulnerable that would have frightened you but you hadn’t been that in a long time.

“We were kids.” Thor frowned with hardly any movement of his lips. The smells you once welcomed in the playroom turned sour all at once and left a vile taste in your mouth.

“We had feelings! I had feelings. He was here and then he wasn’t and I- we never got to say goodbye. I never got to see him before…” You felt your throat closing in on you and your elevated voice. Out talking and outshining Thor’s still calm tone with an agitated demeanor.

“Loki was sick, there was nothing that could have changed that. No actions could have prevented him from being transported to Alfheim for care. If that were the case i would have never said and done what i did all those centuries ago but we were nothing but children (Name). You cannot blame yourself forever, what happened wasn’t your fault. It was’t either of our faults, that night in the library was-”

“That’s enough,” You mumbled reaching to grab the small sunflower pendant you wore around your neck. You couldn’t remember why you bought it from the village markets, you hated sunflowers and yet you were so drawn to it. It comforted you in a way for no explained reason at all. You stared blankly past Thor and found your eyes being drawn to the door on it was various lines and names Frigga had used to measure how much taller you all were growing up. Thor’s red line grew up with your (f/c) one while Loki’s green one stayed the same. He wasn’t there to be measured and left behind all those years ago, still what you would do to have those times back.

You never got to see Loki again after that night, you could never form the perfect words to say how much you missed him and needed him in your life. Not before he got sick and the queen prevented both you and Thor from seeing him in such a fragile state. The illness had gotten progressively worse because before you knew it he had been sent to Alfheim for their healers to help him. You never knew what happened to him after that, death was a thought you couldn’t handle anymore of it so you spun a narrative of him getting bigger and stronger like Thor. Going to school and perfecting his magic even reading all sorts of new stories so he could come back and tell them to you . A comfortable lie felt better than what the truth might be.

Thor leaned his tall frame down to meet you as you sat. His hands cupped your face gently and he pulled you forward to rest his forehead against yours. There was nowhere to look but into his deep eyes. No place to retreat but into him and his touch. It could have been a more uncomfortable silence if you didn’t know Thor so well, even in his quietness you could tell what he wished to say.

All at once a gush of rushed footsteps and frantic voices burst into the room snapping both you and Thor out of the peace and conversation you were previously having. Thor jolted up dropping his hands from your face and folding them behind his back as he whirled around to face the door. Sif stood fully dressed in armor and wielding her sword in one hand. Two soldiers stood besides her wearing what attire was required of them but oddly holding weapons as well instead of leaving them by their hips.

Sif looked between you and Thor clearing her throat and entering the room closing the gap between you both. Unlike Thor she had no regard for dodging the objects on the floor or even trying to avoid them instead she stomped crushing everything in her path.

“Thor, general…” She declared regarding you as formally as she possibly could. You knew she and Thor had a dalliance in their youth but you also knew she was strongly against the marriage of you both. The only reason she had anything to do with you was because she couldn’t not respect you as her superior and as a warrior.

“Our team of scouts were ambushed trying to transport goods to vanaheim.” Sif was usually grim but there was no remains of joy left on her face. The way she gripped her sword as if her life was depending on it you instantly knew how grave the situation. You stood quickly pushing Thor out of your way and getting closer to Sif in order to speak directly to her giving orders if needed.

“What of my soldiers?” You were already letting your illusion magic fall allowing the once casual clothing you were wearing to reveal fully fledged armor and weapon.

“They are presumed to be dead, the frost giants have reportedly planned a strike against us. They have been organized as an army lead by a monster we cannot identify.” Sif didn’t bat an eye at your sudden change in attire nor did she unhand the handle of her sword. She was looking for a fight and you were dead set of giving one to her.

“You and you,” you said pointing to the two soldiers standing in the doorway awaiting your orders. “Tell the crown there will be no wedding on this night and you,” your eyes fixated back on Sif who readily was preparing for your orders,“Prepare my soldiers for battle, no frost giant will slaughter my people and get away with it.”

-/-

Despair was around the frozen battlefield. You could smell the spilled blood in the ridged air that flooded your lungs. Grunts, screams, battle cries, it was all that echoed across the frozen waste land. You brought the back of your hand up to your face and smeared the blood leaking from your open wound.

Adrenalin was high. Your heart pumped in your chest surging you with a vengeance and power you never got except for when you were on a battle field. Death gave you a thrill and here, right now. You were the hero of this story.

You were at a stand still as people fought around you. The hair that was ragged and resting on your shoulders lifted off of them and got swept where the wind pulled it. The burn the cold left on you allowed you to see your hot and scattered breaths. Even your hands were numb and wanting the feeling of flesh underneath them.

That’s when you saw him.

The Jotun king.

Single-handedly taking out five of your men at a time.

Spear in hand.

Wearing the most ornate jewels and loin cloth seen only worn by those of nobility. He was smaller, smaller than any frost giant you had ever seen. He was still tall by nature but far from the size of a giant more like the size of a mere man. There was a mass of long ebony hair flowing down his almost bare body, even then he looked the most primed and prepared for battle.

His head hung forward over his latest victim, mouth hung open and animalistic growls came from him solely. His hand holding the spear tightly, periodically bursting with some sort of energy radiating from him.

Slowly his horned head lifted with a devilish grin reminding you monsters were real. He lifted his head to stare at you with red eyes more red than the blood you felt rushing through your veins.

You watched each other.

Chaos swirling around you and with one move his head tilted leaving the most frightful of smiles on his face.

That was all it took.

The game was on.

You charged.

He stood.

Knowing you would come to him and challenge him the best you knew how. The motives you rushed to him with were unclear and muddled. You wanted him dead, you wanted to be the last thing he saw before those red eyes glazed over with death. That was enough. You were granted with a number of choices and abilities to attack him with. Judging from what you just saw he was skilled in seiðr arguably more skilled than you. His fighting style was unique, hand to hand combat all the while casting spells and twirling a staff.

With a sword in your hand and a dagger hidden in your boot you confidently attacked. He was like a snake so wiry and slippery, wriggling his way out of your grasp with each beat.

Annoyed grunts left your lips and he managed to throw you over his cold and lean shoulder, slamming you flat on your back on the wet snow. When he dropped you an earthquake erupted inside of you spreading quickly, you were dazed even if it was for a second every aching bone in your body begged you to stay still. He lifted the spear over his head intent on driving in through your rapidly beating heart and the will to live over took the will to lie dormant. You rolled out from under his path, still driving the strange object into the snow and beyond that.

Without missing a beat you managed to shove him hard enough that the spear still stuck in the snow slipped from his grasp leaving him one weapon down. You tried to knee him but he caught it yanking your body part closer to him and causing you slip once again landing on the ground. A sense of dread washed over you all at once, a blood thirsty Jotun wouldn’t wait to end your life but this one enjoyed the fire you brought. He enjoyed dragging it out and watching you retaliate.

You obliged throwing the sword you didn’t want to use to the side leveling the playing field so the one person who deserved to live walked out of this alive.

You kicked him in the gut with enough force to shove him backwards releasing your skin. The fear you should have held was swallowed as you stood again on unreliable feet. You slumped forward pulling your hand up to wipe the blood dribbling from your busted lip taunting him to come closer.

He did allowing you enough time to reach down and grab the hidden dagger from your boot and freely slice upwards cutting him across the abdomen.

He hissed in pain, his hands flying to the open wound. If you were anything but numb the sight of him in such pain would had stopped you but it didn’t. Once a drop of his blood fell on the ground you knew you wanted more.

He looked at you evilly and annoyed, in one strange second you felt a familiarity towards him. The fear you didn’t have came unexplained at full force. This situation filled you with such dread and pain. He made you feel small and only one person before had done that before.

“Loki?” Your throat was on fire and you let your guard down for a mere second. He pulled your limp arm towards him twisting the arm that held the dagger so harshly behind your back you dropped it. You howled out in pain and felt his own breath on your neck, your body pressed against him almost waiting death by his hand.

His breath seemed colder than the air everywhere else but even the hand he was using to hinder you defenseless felt like a memory.

He brought your own dagger to your neck and you hitched your breath feeling the metal press into your skin. Hard enough that blood was becoming uncovered. He abandoned that pain only to snap the pendant you wore with the knife he held. Your chin was lifted and you wanted to look down with every bone in your body.

To see it lying on the ground. If you were to die on foreign ground you needed the last comfort you had to welcome you home to Valhalla.

The knife was back on your neck and your eyes fluttered closed hearing every sound near you.

The howling of the wind.

The rage of his heart beat.

The breath in his chest and the sounds of a war you lead.

The only thing you couldn’t hear was his voice.

You wanted to hear it to know it was him, to know it was him killing you. To know it was his hand solely giving you the satisfaction you needed to welcome death.

Out of nowhere a battle cry belonging to no other than Thor erupted from the sky along with a flicker of lightning. He tackled the man removing him from you and filling air within your lungs. The knife was so sharp that there was a cut where Thor slid him from. Shallow enough that you were not choking on your own blood but deep enough to bleed.

You could hear Thor landing punches hard enough to crack the skulls of a hundred men. Each punch hit like and egg cracking on the ground with such ferocity he didn’t need his hammer.

You were still frozen in place, staring upwards as you placed one trembling hand on the wrist of your other. His touch lingered and you knew it better than any other, it had brought you spots of comfort even as he was threatening your life.

“Loki.”

-/-

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #written-loki-imagines #lonely endevours #chapter 2

38 notes · View notes

yoosungiib · 6 years

Text

#3 Jumin: Daughter with a resemblance to dead MC

#3 Jumin: RFA + Minor Trio’s daughter with MC who passed away with an uncanny resemblance to her, making them seemingly resent her.

Link to others here

~~~

☂ Jumin ☂

- Jumin Han, the corporate heir, was a proud father of his 13 year old twins. They estelled in school, were star quarterbacks on their school football team, and aspired to be just like him.

- If he wasn’t invested in his work, he was invested in them and making sure they were on top, and that they knew he was supporting them.

- His 7 year old daughter waited for the moment her father would look at her and tell her all the things he tells her brothers.

- “I’m proud of you.”

- “I couldn’t ask for a better daughter.”

- “You never fail to surprise me.”

- But when she reached the age of 7, she realized that that day would never come, because daddy didn’t love her.

- Trying to talk to her daddy was close to impossible.

- He hardly ever said a few words to her, the most him ever saying was; “Obedience is what makes the perfect child.”

- She wanted to make her daddy proud so she tried to do things that she thought would make him happy like thinking of cat projects for him and feeding Elizabeth the 3rd.

- But she found her list of ideas in the recycling bin one day, and her heart dropped.

- At dinner, she listened to her twin brothers discuss their accomplishments, and she watched as her father relished in it.

- She tried to join in on the conversation, but her father, and her brothers for that matter, ignored her and just brushed her off.

- One night when she couldn’t sleep, she cried out for him hoping that he would come to her and comfort her.

- He never came.

- She went to his office, and the door was wide open, so surely he heard her.

- She knocked on the door to ask if she could come it, and it was silent for a few moments, until he said say, “Go back to bed.”

- In the Han household, she truly felt invisible.

- No one paid attention to her, and no one loved her.

- But because she loved her daddy with all her heart, she kept telling herself that deep down, he will one day love her too and realize her existence.

- There was one person, however, who she knew did love her.

- Jaehee Kang.

- Jumin gave Jaehee a large salary and the request that she be your caretaker. She was given lighter work, bigger checks, and more vacations, all so she can spend the day looking after his daughter because she was never sent to school.

- Jaehee was what made being at home so much easier. Jaehee made her feel like she truly existed, and that she was wanted.

- Jaehee always payed attention to what she had to say, and always showed interests. She always encouraged her to do what she loved, and always gave new ideas to show her love to her father. The daughter knew that without Jaehee, she would be lost, because to everyone else she didn’t exist.

- “Jaehee?” The woman with short hair and glasses hummed a response as she continued to colour with the little girl. “Why does daddy not love me?”

- She stopped, her breath hitching as she looked up at the girl in front of her waiting for an answer. “Your daddy loves you very much.”

- “No he doesn’t. He never talks to me. Do you know how I can make him love me?”

- Jaehee was speechless, and a little uncomfortable too. She didn’t know what to say. “Your daddy really does love you, honey.”

- “Then why does he act like I don’t exist?”

- “Well?... What has your father told you about your mother?”

- The girl scrunched her nose before shrugging nonchalantly. “Nothing. But I heard him once tell my brothers that she was a pretty lady.”

- Jaehee smiled. “She was, and that makes you a pretty lady too. You resemble her quite a lot. Her name was MC. She sadly died when you were very young I’m afraid, and it was very hard for your dad. He loved her very much.”

- “Was it true love?”

- “Yes, it was true love. I think… I think he becomes… sad when he looks at you and sees your mother. But do not mistaken me here; that isn’t your fault at all. You are very lucky to have the beautiful features of your mother, and your father notices that. I think he just is still recovering. Nethertheless, he should treat you more decently and take better notice of you.”

- “Will you tell him that? Can you tell him that I love him. I mean, really, really love him!”

- Jaehee smiled, letting out a soft giggle. “Yes, I will.”

- “Do you love me?”

- “Yes, I do.”

- That night while you were fast asleep and Jumin sat at his desk finalizing work, he groaned at the vibration of his phone against his leg. He answered it coldly, “What is it Assistant Kang?”

- “Mr. Han,” the assistant’s voice was incredibly shaky. “I need to discuss an important matter with you.”

- “What is it?”

- “It’s your daughter.”

- Jumin visibly stiffened, and from the other line, Jaehee could tell by the intake of breath he was already at unease. “What about her?”

- “Do you at all realize what you are doing to her?”

- “I beg your pardon?”

- “I said do you realize what you are doing to her. Do you not see how broken she is by your actions? Do you not see that she is craving your attention? You give all your time to her brothers and you never pay attention to her, and it is weighing on her. Do you know what she said to me today?”

- “Whatever it is, you have no right to be-”

- “She asked me why you didn’t love her.”

- Jumin’s blood turned cold, his jaw clenching and his eyes squinting.

- “Of course, I told her that you did, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was lying to the poor girl.”

- “How dare you-”

- Jaehee would have none of his bullshit. “No, Mr. Han. Listen to me. Listen to me when I tell you that you’re own daughter thinks you hate her. I mean, you didn’t even tell her about her mother.”

- Jumin’s fist made heavy contact with his desk, it was enough to make the house shake. “I swear to god above if you said a thing-”

- “Of course I told her. If you wouldn’t, who would? She deserves to know like your sons. She’s your daughter too. The world can praise you because of all the good things you have done for your sons, but if only they saw the way you treated your daughter, all because she looked like your dead wife. What would MC think?”

- Was Jaehee harsh? Maybe so. But Jumin needed to hear it.

- But of course, he is too stubborn. Down in his heart he knew what Jaehee was saying was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t like to admit he is wrong and he doesn’t want to feel powerless or at a disadvantage, which Jaehee has made him feel. His mind is clouded with anger, and without a second's thought, he spat through the phone at his assistant,

- “You’re fired.”

- “What?”

- “You’re fired. You can go to the office tomorrow afternoon to pick up your paycheck, then pack your things and get the hell out. You will no longer be in contact with my daughter either.”

- And he hung up.

- The next morning, he sent the boys off to school and waited begrudgingly at in the kitchen for the new caretaker to show up.

- He was already pissed by the fact she was thirty minutes late and he needed to get to work.

- He could hear the scribbling in the connecting room and the sound of crayon scraping abrasively was giving him a headache.

- “Daddy?”

- Jumin sighed, walking into the room with his arms crossed. He didn’t want to face his daughter, not with the words of his once assistant ringing in his heads. The words were screaming at him to get a grip, to fix everything, to tell her he loved her, but he couldn’t. He was already getting grief from the RFA group chat. He couldn’t help but be cold.

- “Daddy, where is Jaehee?”

- “She’s not coming.”

- “What do you mean?”

- “I fired her. I found that she was not a suitable caretaker for you. Your new caretaker will be here in a moment and I will leave for work.”

- The girls eyes began to water and her lips quivered. No, this can’t be right. A single tear slid down her face as she stared up at her father who looked at her blankly.

- “But I want Jaehee.”

- “As your father, I make the decisions in this household. She was not a suitable caretaker. She put rubbish into your head.”

- The little girl couldn’t believe what she was hearing. None of this was Jaehee’s fault. All Jaehe ever did was support her, and love her… Jaehee loved her… So this was...

- Daddy’s fault.

- She let out a loud, ear shattering scream as she picked up a handful of crayons and chucked them at Jumin.

- Jumin was caught completely off guard, and too shocked to say anything.

- The little girl started hollering and crying on the floor, flailing her legs and arms. He had never seen anything like this.

- “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” she shouted over and over again.

- Jumin didn’t know what to do. He stood flabbergasted as his daughter continued to scream and wail on the ground. And god, it was his fault, he lead her to break down completely.

- “She was the only one who loved me! No one loves me! No one loves me!”

- He felt the strings of his heart start to tear as he couldn’t take his eyes away from the scene. He was frozen in spot before he finally managed to move towards her.

- He needed to get her to stop flailing, so he grabbed her arms and legs and held her down.

- It killed him to see her face red from tears and slobber leaking from her mouth. Those golden eyes that looked so much like her mothers, did not at that moment. Her mother’s eyes were so full of life, while the little girl's eyes were just filled with despair and self hate.

- Although the screaming and flailing came to a stop, she still continued to cry since she was so utterly defeated.

- A seven year old should not feel like that.

- Jumin stared down at his daughter. He didn’t know what else to do but pull her to him. He let her sob into his chest as he stroked her hair, his chin resting on the top of her head. After Awhile, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him back.

- She clung to him afraid that if she let go for a second, he would disappear from her grasp and she would never get to feel his warmth again.

- He was so warm. She never felt it before.

- She liked it. She wanted to feel it more.

- Finally, he found the right words to tell her. The only words that he could tell her. “I’m so sorry. I love you.”

- “No you don’t.”

- “I do love you. I will always love you.”

- They clung to each other until the caretaker finally showed up, in which Jumin dismissed her and took a week off from work. He also rang Jaehee to tell her she was not fired.

- He brought his little girl to his master bed and tucked her in. The tantrum wore her out, and she deserved to have the best at that moment.

- He didn’t dare leave her side.

- Now it was up to him to show her that he cared for her, and that he truly did love her. He would make it up to her everyday for the rest of his life, he swore it, to make her feel cherished, loved, beautiful, and wanted.

- He swore it.

~~~

Check out my masterlist for more!

Masterlist

#Yoosung Kim #Zen #Hyun Ryu #Jumin Han #Jaehee Kang #Seven #Luciel Choi #Saeyoung Choi #Saeran Choi #V #Jihyun Kim #Vanderwood #Mystic Messenger #Mystic Messenger Headcanon #Mystic Messenger Angst #Mysme headcanon #I cried at my own writing what the hell

720 notes · View notes