#when i saved this image on my phone it looked completely different than the drawing on my laptop???

[100ceruleaneyes]

What I imagine frogs eat

[purpleeivy]

Day 8 of Drawing something everyday and releasing it to you, the little people in my phone. It’s quite literally the shell of a depressed person, Evangelion Unit-01. It’s only 2am today woo. Considering I have to go back to 6th Form soon and get a bus at 6am I should be fine. Probably. Maybe. Who cares about sleep deprivation right? Anyway into the commentary…

So, it’s arm. What happened there. I don’t have an answer if you wanted to ask that question, because I redrew it about 3 times and that was the best version. I’m pretty sure I just miscalculated where it’s elbow would be, and that in turn made the rest of the arm look worse. The body is also a little bit too thin, as is the right thigh. (Thick thighs save lives, so Shinji can only save half a life with this Eva)

Onto the positives, I’m super pleased with how the head turned out. I really like that. I also quite like the right arm. It’s a little off, but it’s fine. I also like the shoulder blades(? Is that what they are? I’m not sure) quite a bit. I think I spaced them out and sized them mostly correctly.

Overall I do really like it, but I can’t wait to redraw it when I’m better at drawing hehe.

What else… I’m not done with Portal, I have a few ideas for what to draw next in that series, I just think i’m going to take a short break to do some other fandoms, before going back to do it. (One of the portal ideas contains a couple of different ones, and considering they are not that big I will draw multiple for once. Enjoy guessing what they could be hehe, not that there are many options)

I’ve been watching One Piece and it’s good, but I think I am going to go back to Dimension 20 before my Dropout subscription renews because I prefer binge watching shows.

Stream “Koala” by Will Stetson!!!!! I was listening to it on repeat while drawing. (TW Depression for it). The lyrics made me cry the first time I listened to it, because I related to the first part so heavily, and the ending made me have some hope.

This is the first drawing in this daily art thing that I’ve actually ripped a page out and completely restarted, I might reblog this with the ripped out page, but don’t count on that happening.

Hmmm. I can’t think of anything else that I can say without turning this into a journal completely unrelated to the art, and I’d rather not do that (more than I already do, which is definitely possible somehow).

So with that, good morning, good afternoon, or good evening, and as always, goodnight from me.

love you all <3

(ref image)

[ownerofthisaccount]

Hello! Here’s the start of a mini series!

Basically a few years ago I drew my favorite and my brother’s favorite Pokémon, but at the time I didn’t do a lot. They were all traditional drawn uncolored outlines and were a lot messier than the drawings I do know(blame the left hand)

But Pokémon means a lot to mean and drawings them helps improve my style on non human characters(I do hope to make a graphic novel and actually sell original character work, since you can’t sell fanart. Still doesn’t work to show it off for free though), so I decided to spend the month redrawing those Pokémon. I do plan to draw mine and my other brother’s work as well, so you can look forward to that sometime this year. But anywho, here they are!

This one is a tie as his original 10th favorite was Scizor due to the cool design and typing. However after playing Scarlet and Violet after not playing Pokémon since he finished gen 6, he grew to adore Corviknight and the bird took the spot instead. Purple is his favorite color, Steel is one of his favorite types, and Ravens are his favorite animal due to the important they play in his life. His spirit animal is a Raven, his favorite sports team is the Ravens, and whenever something important happens to him(good or bad), a Raven was present during or right beforehand. Along with this, he used one named Jayda for his entire Violet playthrough and ended up being the sole reason he beat Turo his first try. All in all, he adores both of these Pokémon so I decided to include both. As for the drawing itself, besides the wing I like how this came out despite its simplicity compared to future entries.

(All of the lighting for the images will be off due to taking them from my phone when they are on my laptop)

This will be a shorter entry. He simply enjoys the concept of the Garbodor line, their designs, and how they act. As for the drawing itself, I think it’s one of my weaker ones as it feel more empty than it should. I like how Trubbish came out but I feel I could’ve added more or due something bigger with Ingo’s inevitable disappearance. But I think it still turned out alright!

This was originally gonna be a completely different image of Goodra sleeping and water from a leaf spilling on him but the brother this wasn’t for suggested I do a parody of My Neighbor Totoro. I never done a rain scene before so I wanted to kill him(I actually wrote the writing on that sign, and it is my proudest achievement) but I would be lying if I said this wasn’t my favorite one I done. As for his reasoning, in both X and Violet my brother out in the effort to actually get a Goodra(which is pretty hard to do for anyone who hasn’t since not only is it in the slow experience group but it also requires it to be raining in the overworld) which took him hours in X to do but both times resulted in Goodra being used a lot on his final team.

Most have Gengar drawings as really creepy or really cool, but I wanted to take a different approach and draw Ash’s Gengar. Apparently I can also draw a really good Gengar but can’t draw a Pikachu to save my life. I also unintentionally finished this the day Ash’s final episode released. As for his reasoning, he’s been playing the games since Yellow and watched the anime since Indigo. Since Gengar was always a prominent figure and ghost is his favorite type, he’s grown quite attached to him.

Speaking of growing attached to, you can’t escape Jigglypuff in this household. This is his favorite of the drawings though you probably shouldn’t look too long it unless you want a headache. But he has always loved Jigglypuff, and not for its gimmick in the anime. He main Jigglypuff in Smash Bros and has recently bought a life size Jigglypuff plush which has ironically been helping his Insommia. He hasn’t been drawn on yet though.

This was the image I was most excited to draw. When coming up with ideas my brain went “Skitty Rescue Brigade with Admiral Delcatty” and I respond “that is the dumbest idea I ever had…I have to do it.” Needless to say, this is my second favorite I’ve done even if I forgot the shadowing on the Wailmers. As for his reasoning, he loves whales and was on a swim team for years. That’s pretty much it.

This took four whole days to draw. I despise drawing Gen 6 characters; they are too detailed in design for my liking. But like Goodra, my brother put in the effort to get one in Gen 6, and used one on later teams which made him bond heavily with Sylveon.

Dusknoir didn’t kill the kid and Dusknoir isn’t evil, I will fight you on this. It’s his second favorite drawing and bonus points to anyone who knows what episode the image is based on. My brother really loves Dusknoir, and a huge part was seeing in Pokepark. That’s a game we grew up on(I’ll talk about it on my entry list) and he loved the personality he had. He enjoyed him in Mystery Dungeon, I caught one for him in Shield, and he even cosplayed him for a convention. Dusknoir just really means a lot to him.

Probably my other drawing I feel is a little weak, though took some inspiration from Lost Silver and the Giovanni theory. But while his first game was Yellow, his true first game was Silver with his starter being Totodile. He would play the games a lot as a kid, so he spent a lot of time with this evolution line. I feel most of us have a starter in our top 10 because while they are just given to us instead of earned, you tend to spend a lot of time with them due to that. His small role in Pokepark also helped him get this spo. However, his favorite was no contest.

It was always Lugia. This love started from seeing Pokémon 2000 as a kid and adoring the “Jesus Bird” as he puts it on screen. So when he saw Lugia on the cover of Silver, he didn’t hesitate to buy the game and pour hours into it. The Gen 2 games ended up being some of his all time favorite games, with Lugia to thank for getting him truly into the franchise. He has a Lugia figurine and plans to one day buy a Lugia plush. His favorite list does change around overtime, but this will always be his favorite.

And there we go! Did you enjoy the list? What’s your favorite Pokémon? I hope you liked it and I’ll see you all again next time!

[babycharmander]

If you think you have never stolen artwork, read this post.

So, art theft. If you've been a follower of mine, you've heard my barely-coherent rants about this before, but I thought it might be more productive to make a more coherent post on the subject.

If you're wondering about the title of the post here, it's because I feel like a lot of people aren't really grasping what exactly art theft is, and a LOT of people, even well-meaning ones, do it without even realizing it.

"But wait," you say. "I would never STEAL from an artist!! I never claim it as my own!" And that's all fine and good, but you're missing something here.

To start things off, what IS art theft? (It's not what deviantART said it was several years back, I'll tell you that much. *cough*)

We all know what art is, so let's talk about theft. Dictionary.com defines "theft" as "the act of stealing; the wrongful taking and carrying away of the personal goods or property of another; larceny." Okay, makes sense, but what about that other word there, stealing? Dictionary.com defines "steal" as "to take (the property of another or others) without permission or right, especially secretly or by force."

From those definitions, we can go on to define art theft as, specifically, "taking art without permission or right." In the context of art, that typically involves reposting it (not reblogging--reblogging is different) or using it for other things.

And there, my friends, is the issue.

If something is taken or used without permission, it is stolen. Permission is the important thing here--if an artist says "oh yeah, you can go ahead and use this!" then it's not stolen. You have their permission. But if you DON'T have that, then it IS stolen. It IS theft.

"But I'm not claiming it as my own!" you say. But you don't have to claim it as your own--the act of taking it in and of itself is an act of theft.

"But I said 'credit to the artist!'" The "credit" thing is a whole other conversation, but here's the short of it: The entire point of credit is to direct people to the source of something. If you are not directly linking to where you got the art from, you are not giving credit. "Credit to the artist" is not actually credit of any kind whatsoever. (Also, Google and Pinterest are not sources.)

"But I DID link back to the artist!" Okay, now this is where it may get confusing, because you may think you're covered because you actually did give credit. Here's the problem: if you reposted it or used it without permission, regardless of whether you gave credit or not, it's still stealing.

I'm bolding this because it's a point that a lot of people get tripped up on. Let me explain it this way: If you went into your neighbor's house and took something of theirs without their permission, but you told people "oh yeah, I got this from [neighbor]'s house!" that that would still, of course, be stealing, and it's no different for art.

Another thing is that even when you credit, people don't always check the source. Very recently I found a case where someone had reposted a piece of artwork of mine to Pinterest that was deliberately made to look like it came from the source material (it wasn't meant to confuse anyone, though--the description of my original post made it very clear that it was fanart). The person who reposted had linked back to my original post. The problem? The comments had people asking if this was official, where it happened in the source material, etc. Despite the fact that the source was right there, no one thought to look at it.

Even if you link back to the source, if you did it without the artist's permission, it's still stealing, and still causes problems for us artists.

"But I just posted it to my Pinterest--" DO NOT DO THIS. DO NOT POST AN ARTIST'S WORK TO PINTEREST IF YOU DO NOT HAVE THEIR EXPLICIT PERMISSION TO DO SO.

"But this artist friend of mine says they're okay if I post their work to my Pinterest so long as I link back to them!" Good for your friend! But the fact that your friend is okay with it doesn't mean that all artists are okay with it. For me, personally, I am very not okay with my work being posted to Pinterest, and say as much on my art blog description and posts (which people tend to ignore).

The problem with Pinterest--and reposting art in general--is that we artists don't know when it happens unless we're told, or unless we find it ourselves. It causes us to lose control of our art. And because of this, our art can spiral further out of our control, because when our works get posted to Pinterest or other similar websites, people who have no grasp whatsoever on how art works will just take it as "free art" and then use it for whatever they want.

That's how a piece I spent 20+ hours on was used as a poster for a paid event, without my permission, and without any payment or credit to me.

If an artist has said nothing about Pinterest (or other similar image sharing sites), your default should be to assume that they don't want their artwork posted there.

"Well I didn't repost someone's art, but I did use it for my avatar/RPing icon/video/fic cover/photo edit--" That's still stealing. If you're using it without their permission for any reason, that is stealing. Not to mention, the artist may not be cool with what you're using their art for anyway. (Looking at you, people who use platonic art in your shipping videos.)

“I MEANT to ask them for permission, but I forgot!” This can ONLY happen if you used the artwork BEFORE you asked for permission. You can resolve this by asking for permission BEFORE you use it, rather than assuming the answer will be “yes” and using it before asking.

"But it took me a really long time to make that icon/video/cover/edit!!" How long do you think it took the original artist to draw their piece? It doesn't matter how much work you put into modifying someone else's art--if you're doing it without their permission, you're still stealing.

"But I couldn't find the original artist! I tried to find them, I really did, but I couldn't. Is it okay to use their art then?" No, because you still don't have permission, and by reposting it anyway, you’re continuing to make the artwork spiral out of their control.

"What if I found the artist, but they speak a different language from mine? I can't ask them for permission, so is it okay if I repost their art anyway?" NO!! DO NOT DO THIS!! If there is a language barrier, use Google translate or find someone to translate for you and get a hold of the artist that way to ask them for their permission. The language barrier is NEVER an excuse to steal artwork. There are plenty of non-English-speaking artists who have taken ALL OF THEIR ARTWORK OFFLINE because the art theft was completely out of control. (And this isn't just exclusive to English-speakers stealing art from people who don't speak their language. It happens artists who don't speak English stealing art from English-speakers, too, but as this post is written in English it doesn't do much good for me to rant about this here.) If you can’t ask their permission, do not use it!!

"But what about reblogging?! Isn't that the same as reposting?? Should we not reblog art at all then?" No, reblogging (or retweeting) is not the same as reposting. If you reblog art, you keep all the information that we attached to the art, including our blog name and the description attached to the art. Reblogging/retweeting actually helps us artists A LOT, so as long as you're reblogging from the original artist (and not someone who's reposting their art), by all means, reblog our art!

"What if I just want to share someone else's artwork on Discord or show it to a friend?" This one's a bit different and is not actually as problematic. If you want to share our work on Discord or whatever, just link directly to where we posted it. Please don't post the art itself, unless you're doing it alongside a link because Discord won't show a preview or something.

"What about a forum or a site like Reddit?" This one's a bit different, since due to the way Reddit functions, if you LINK to the art, you have to go directly to the artist's original page to view it. (At least, that’s what it’s like the last time I was active there.) In a way it's roughly the same as with Discord--be sure you're linking directly to the actual post rather than just uploading the art on its own--but I would also ask the artist if they're okay with it, because they may be a member of the subreddit or forum and want to post it themselves, or they might not want their work shared to specific communities. (Some communities have a function where a bot will repost the artwork to Imgur, and some artists don't want that done with their art.)

"What if I'm saving it to my computer/phone to look at later, or making it into my desktop/phone wallpaper?" IMO this is fine, since your computer/phone files aren't public, and neither is your wallpaper. It's only a problem when you post it to public places without our permission.

"What if it's art I commissioned?" Well... like... in that case, it's art you paid for, so unless the artist you commissioned laid out very specific terms for you, you should be good to use that art. Like, at most, the artist may ask you to credit them somewhere in your blog description if they drew your icon or something, or credit them in a fic description if you commissioned a fic illustration from them, or something to that effect. It's really something you should have already worked out with the artist beforehand, but for the most part you should probably be fine to use art you paid for however you like.

"What about art I requested?" This is a bit different from commissioned work. Just because the art was drawn at your request doesn't mean it's explicitly yours (unless it's like, a drawing of your original character or something). Some artists take requests more as suggestions, so the art they draw in response to a suggestion or request is still theirs. Treat this as you would any other artwork and ask the artist for permission first before you do anything with the artwork you requested from them.

“What about NFTs?” ... Okay this one I can’t really go over too much because I barely understand it in the first place, but NFTs are BAD for artists and are a form of art theft. Do not turn people’s art into NFTs. This is a crappy thing to do. (If you want more information on this one, you’ll have to look it up yourself. It’s a form of cryptocurrency and it’s confusing.)

“If you don’t want your art stolen you shouldn’t post it in the first place.” This is fascinating logic. Try applying it to something else and see how it holds up. “If you don’t want your merchandise stolen, you shouldn’t open a booth.” “If you don’t want to get poisoned you shouldn’t eat food.” “If you don’t want to get punched in the face, don’t walk outside.” Yes. Flawless logic. Truly.

"Why do you care so much, anyway?! I'm sharing your art because I like it! That's a compliment! Shouldn't you be happy?" Well, we're certainly glad you like our art, but the problem is... as I've said before, reposting our art causes us to lose our control over it. When we lose control of our art, that damages our livelihood. As I said before, other people have made money off of my artwork. As well, some artists lose jobs because when their potential employers check out their portfolio, they may find artwork that's been reposted everywhere online, so they cannot hire the artist because they believe they may have stolen the artwork in their own portfolio.

Your reposting an image you thought was cute to Facebook or Pinterest could cost an artist their job. Think about that.

So, tl;dr, keep this in mind: you need the artist's permission to repost or use their artwork. If you do not have it, it is stealing, even if you credit the artist.

I know this post is really harsh in places, but this is such an important thing for all artists, and there's so many misconceptions about art theft online. And I feel like one of the biggest problems is that when some people see posts on art theft, they ignore them, because they think they've never done it or would never do it, so that's why I worded this post the way I did. I'm not trying to hurt anyone--I just want people to understand what art theft is, how it affects us artists, and how you can avoid it. Thank you for reading.

[cazimagines]

Never break the chain

Synopsis: You were Zemo’s devoted girlfriend, he would take you all over the world and treat you to everything you want in life however that all changed the day Sokiva fell. Consumed by anger Zemo went off the deep end trying to avenge his fallen country and you last saw him being escorted to prison. Years later you became really ill and there was only one thing that could save you. After a lot of searching you finally managed to get your hands on some super soldier serum which saved you however Zemo is now out of prison as is determined to finish what he started no matter what stood in his way.

Warnings/Tags: Bad Zemo, Mentions of guns, Toxic relationship, Almost cried while writing this, Hits in the feelings, Lots of angst, So much angst, Mentions of death

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Hello my fellow masochists *cough* Markiplier *cough*, I for one thrive on sad moments in fics, ones that break my heart. I live off angst and I am sure I am not the only one in this so I have written this angsty Zemo fic. There is no fluff here just sadness so you have been warned. I’m going to write a really sweet and fluff filled one shot after this as an apology. Also warning this relationship is toxic so like obviously I don’t condone Zemo’s behaviour in this, he’s meant to be a dick here.

I got inspired to write this from a song so like if you want extra emotions listen to this: https://youtu.be/1A8YpV1tfsQ

This is also being posted on my ao3 account under the name Casmad

The wind blew sharply against you, the coldness of it scratching your skin. Your eyes water up slightly at the harshness of it and you wrap your arms around your body trying to warm yourself up. You looked out over the cliff, looking over now the deserted area you once called home. Sokovia. Its beautiful landscape is broken and torn apart. An echo of how magnificent it once was. You raise your hand to touch the chain that hung around your neck. A reminder of the past.

“Darling I would be honored if you wore this for me. I have a similar one I’ll always keep around my neck so that even when we are apart, there’s a part of us that will always be together” Zemo asks nervously, swallowing and glancing from the necklace in his hand to your face.

You put your hands onto his, taking the necklace, “I’ll never take it off”

Zemo’s face broke out into a smile, his eyes shining as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. He holds you closely as you close your eyes melting into his presence. He kisses the top of your forehead and rests the top of his head on yours. “My beautiful moon” he murmurs

A tear slowly slipped down your cheek as you thought back to better times. You had been so happy with him. You two had planned your whole lives out together. The Baron and Baroness.

“Would you care to accompany me to the ball?” Zemo asks, holding his arm out to you.

“Oh I don’t know should I?” you joke, holding your chin in your hand as if questioning it, making Zemo chuckle.

“If you do I promise you can be in charge in the bedroom tonight,” he says as he leans into you. You grin back at him, raising your hand to his suit jacket and pulling him towards you for a kiss. As you feel his lips on yours and his hand rests on your hip you smile into the kiss. As you pull back you swell with happiness seeing a rosy tint to Zemo’s cheeks.

“I suppose turning up to to a ball on the arm of a Baron has its perks”

Zemo laughs and pulls you into a side hug placing a kiss on your temple.

“What would I do without you” he hums to himself as he admires you “My moon”

Everything made sense, everything fit. You couldn’t imagine a life any different till it happened.

You and Zemo had been away visiting a local country when you heard of the news. You collapsed on the floor screaming at the tv as Zemo was on the phone already organizing a trip back home. When you arrived your heart broke seeing all the destruction. Zemo was holding your hand but he let go. It was all gone. Everything. Your whole life had changed just like that.

You wipe the tears away from your cheeks yet they continue to flow as you remembered what happened after. The madness and desire for revenge had consumed Zemo. You tried to stop him. You really did but what could you have done?

“Helmut, please. This isn’t healthy...this...this isn’t you!” you cried as Zemo was preparing his attack on the avengers

“Y/n I have to do this. There is no other way” he angrily replied, refusing to look at you.

“I can’t support this” you whisper, grabbing a hold of his arm. “I can’t watch you do this”

Zemo looks at you, his face forlorn as he watches the tears fall from your eyes. He pulls you to his chest wrapping his arm around you and kisses the top of your head, stroking your hair. “I’m not asking you to moon”

You leave the warmth of his arms and watch as he grabs his bags and walks out of your room, giving you one last glimpse of goodbye before he walks out of your life.

That was the last time you saw him in person. The next time it was on the news as he was being arrested. In the end, his plan had succeeded. He split up the avengers but then what? It didn’t bring anyone back. Sokovia was still dead and you were left behind while he was locked up for life.

You close your eyes, squeezing out the remains of your tears, preparing to leave this cliff looking over your deserted town when you hear the sound of a click. You let in a sharp breath of recognition. Slowly turning around your eyes adjust to the barrow of a gun and the person standing behind it.

Zemo.

He still looked the same as you remembered. Though if you stared closely you could see lines showing his age starting to appear, the bags under his eyes were bigger than what they once were however after all this time it was still him. He even wore that ridiculously over-the-top coat that you always stole from him.

His eyes however were different, when you always looked into them in the past they seemed warm, like the feeling of drinking hot chocolate. You could melt in them but now they were stone cold. Emotionless. Like he wasn’t even there.

“Zemo…” you breathed out focusing on him

“I planned to eliminate all superheroes” he states

You shake your head at him, “Zemo please”

“I’ve almost completed my plan to rid the world of superheroes, of ‘super soldiers’”

“Please let me explain,” you say starting to take a step forward to him but he quickly raises his other hand grasping the gun, holding it in both hands now and pointing it at you making you stop in your tracks.

“How could you,” he spits, his lips drawing back in a snarl “How could you become one of them!”

“I had no choice” You rasp, tears starting to flow from your eyes again, “I would have died otherwise”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THAN TAKEN IT” Zemo shouts

The colour drains from your face, your eyes widen in shock staring at him. His jaw tightens as he glares at you. You both stand there in silence taking in what he had said.

Wiping the side of your tear-stained cheek you smile sadly at him, sniffing, you step forward again resting your forehead against the gun.

“Okay” you simply say, your throat feeling like sandpaper as you utter those words

Zemo glares at you, his finger resting on the trigger. The gun starts to shake as he clenches his face in anger.

“DAM IT” he shouts, throwing the gun to the side. His hands grab onto your shoulders roughly, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n. How could you do this to me” He snaps.

You were too shocked to reply to him, causing him to get even angrier. His eyes swarmed with tears and when one threatened to fall he pushed you back and turned away so you wouldn’t see.

You shakily let out a breath you were holding in and collapsed onto your knees. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest and you clenched the sides of your body with your arms in comfort.

Zemo turns back around to you, hatred in his eyes. “I’ve come so far, killing so many just to be stopped here”

“Because you refuse to kill the woman you love” you implored in hope but he shakes his head, “No. Not that”

“Yes, yes that Zemo!” you say shakily getting back up off the ground. “Zemo I still love you though by gods I shouldn’t. We made a promise to each other” you affirmed holding up the chain around your neck, “We were forever Zemo”

Zemo’s finger brushed up against the chain that had been hanging around his neck for the past seven years. They wrap around the chain and in one swift motion, he pulls it off his neck, breaking the chain and throwing it to the ground.

You stare at the broken chain on the floor, your heart dropping. In just one notion it was like all those moments you two spent together were worth nothing. It had led to nothing.

Zemo grabs ahold of your chain and pulls you closer to him, “The truth is, my darling moon, that you don’t love me either”

You try to argue back to him but he raises his finger to your lips, “ah”

“You want to know how I know?”

You don’t say anything, staring at him confused, he leans towards you and automatically you close your eyes however he instead he puts his lips to your ears,

“You’ve been calling me Zemo instead of Helmut”

He lets go of the chain, pushing you away from him again, the force knocking you to the ground.

You think back over your conversation. He was right. When had you started referring him to his last name rather than his first name? You had always called him by his first name before.

You look back up to him, your eyes watering and noticing the tears starting to fall from his eyes.

“I spent years in that prison imaging what it would be like to finally get out. To hold you in my arms once again. To have what we once had. It was the only thing that kept me going in there. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain I felt when I found out the truth. The pain of your betrayal. I hated you. I...I” his voice cracked as he started to cry more

He keeps trying to stop letting out a sob yet his mouth can’t help but frown and his face contorted. “I thought I could stop the pain by getting rid of you but I can’t. Even though I can’t stand looking at you I can’t kill you”

He swallows and looks away from you to the chain on the ground, “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

You could have said something then. Called out to him. Spoke sense to him. He might have even listened but you didn’t. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to stop him. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

He turns his back and starts to walk away but stops for a moment, turning his head slightly.

“Goodbye y/n”

[genshinobsession]

About the sentience au, i have no idea if u take request/ consider ideas so feel free to ignore

I got some thoughts so i hope u don't mind me ranting here hehe

But here's the thing, if the character somehow got to our world and found out that their life was created by someone for ppl to pass time and entertain themselves, what would be their reaction to the fandom (fics, ships, reader insert stuff, fanart and other fan made stuff), the creator (and them getting profit or being responsible for their suffering and creating them the way they are? Like flaws/ appearance/ personality n that shit), the gatcha, other characters that they knew, and just generally to the whole thing about them being a fictional character from a game in a different world

Thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

Sentience Au

characters included:

Diluc,Kaeya,Zhongli

(More is coming after, I just didn’t want there to be do much scrolling to get to the character you want)

Diluc

“So, what you’re saying is I’m from a video game, and I am a very desired character. And because of this many people draw pictures of me.” He asks, standing with his hand on his chin as he tried to process this.

You nodded and you got your phone and looked up a simple

“Diluc fanart”

And showed him the results.

He was a little put off now knowing that there were so many people watching him at all times. Not only were they were watching him but they liked him enough to draw him.

“Well, they all are very talented, but why is this one titled ‘Daddy Diluc’ with my shirt off?” He asked, and you snatched your phone from a him as quick as possible and closed out of whatever file or photo album he scrolled to.

With a nervous laugh you turned back to him hiding your phone, not wanting to admit to what he had seen.

“How about we look at some fanfics instead.” You suggested, changing tabs on your phone. You showed him the Tumblr thread as he began to scroll.

“And these are-?” He asked as he looked back at you.

“Stories about you and other characters, or somethings you and the person reading. Those are called self inserts.” You explained, he nodded, slightly understanding until he had scrolled to an NSFW story.

“What does NSFW stand for?” He asked, you shot up from your chair and smacked the phone out of his hand as quickly as possible.

“Okay maybe that’s not a good idea either.” You laughed nervously again as Diluc stared at you curiously. As far as he was concerned NSFW was just a couple of meaningless letters thrown together, but your reaction makes him think it was obviously more than that.

“How about I explain it this way. Because you’re a very desired character, many people are attracted to you,” You began. He nodded, understanding.

“myself included,” you mumbled, he didn’t catch it so you cleared your throat and continued.

“Many of them make art of you and other characters together and more often than not it’s because of a ship.”

Right at that moment you completely lost him. He looked at you confused,

“What do boats have anything to do with this?” He asked, his eyebrows were furrowed together as he tried to think of a logical way that a mode of water transport would have anything to do with him and other characters.

“No no, this kind of ship is a pairing of you and another character, like a relationSHIP.”

Diluc nodded in response,

“So wait, people pair me with other characters? Like who?” He asked, you sighed knowing the question was going to come up sooner or later.

“Well-“ you began as you listed off every person he had been shipped with. As you went on Dilucs face began to contort out of confusion and slight disgust.

“Just... don’t ask and we can both forget about it.” You suggested and he nodded in agreement.

“Gladly.”

Kaeya

“Well this is... interesting.” The blue haired man muttered as he had scrolled through the object that he held in his hands.

He had just seen it lying face up on the counter and his curiosity got the better of him.

And he was very surprised by what he saw.

Just, pages and pages and pages of him in different poses with different people, in varying levels of... intensity.

He was very confused at first, unsure of how to respond but as he wen through he realized each post had a red heart underneath it.

What could that possibly mean?

As he scrolled through he eventually got into the works of writing, all with the same ‘Kaeya x reader’ underneath their titles.

Before he could scroll any farther he heard the door creak open as you walked into the room with a warm joyous smile on your face.

Well until you saw Kaeya with your phone.

“Kaeya, why do you have my phone?” You asked, he looked down at the bright object then back at you.

“So that’s what it’s called, well you did just leave it open so I decided to have a look.” He admitted with a shrug.

You quickly snatched it from him and looked at it realizing he had been through all your posts that you had saved under the label ‘Kaeya’.

Your heart pace quickened out of embarrassment,

“How much did you see?” You asked, he chuckled and moved closer to you, he lightly lifted you chin so you’d look at him, he leaned into your ear and whispered,

“You seem to like me in some interesting positions.” He teased, and let go of your face.

You covered your face, not wanting to look at him.

“Oh, don’t be shy now, its quite cute that you like me that much. I find it, oddly endearing.” He admitted, patting your head lightly.

You finally took your head out of your hands as you looked up at him. He smiled at you as he leaned in close to your face yet again.

“Although, you should be more careful about having your ‘phone’ open to such a... suggestive image.” He teased yet again as you backed up from your face and walked out of the room.

You looked down at your phone which screen has been dimmed a bit, as you raised the brightness you saw a picture of Kaeya you definitely would not be able to unsee for a long while.

Zhongli

Zhongli is definitely a fan of stories,

But the stories he found were definitely not the ones he had in mind.

You didn’t know how to explain to Zhongli that he’s from a game and people all over the internet love and adore him, without showing him.

He doesn’t even know what technology is, let alone the fact people use it to create artwork of him.

“Traveler, I apologize if this is a bit odd, but I saw you looking at some paintings of me on your phone item. How do you have so many? Did you make them also yourself? You’re quite talented if so.” He asked, as you looked from him, to your phone, then back up to him.

He was just patiently standing infront of you, waiting for an answer.

You sighed slightly as you put down whatever you were doing and grabbed your phone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that not something I was supposed to bring up?” He asked, confused by your reaction.

You shook your head as you patted the spot next to you, gesturing for him to sit down next to him.

“No no, you were going to find out sooner or later.” You said as he politely sat down next to you and faced you, ready to listen to whatever story or explanation you were going to give him.

As you explained he asked a few questions, which you answered as best you could.

After you explained how the world Zhongli came from was not exactly real, he was just a character in a video game, and because of that, many people around the world love him and make things to show their love and appreciation for him.

He nodded, trying to understand,

“Well that’s definitely not what I expected. I’ve always had some sort of following but this, admittedly was not what I expected. So all of these people know about Rex Lapis?” He asked, to which you nodded in response.

“I see, well. There’s not much I can to about it now I suppose.” He said, turning back to you with a slight sigh. All the effort putting into hiding and it was, somewhat for nothing.

Liyue was going to have to learn how to be on their own regardless, so leaving wasn’t going to affect them to much, which was comforting to him.

“Thank you, traveler, for answering my question. I understand it was probably hard to explain this to me but I believe I understand now.” He thanked, you nodded accepting it and smiled at him.

However, your smile faltered when you saw Zhongli so lost in thought. You supposed it was because he basically left behind the only thing he’s every known.

You lightly put your hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Hey, Why don’t we make some tea, I feel like you’d want to try these flavours.” You said, as he looked back over to you, he recognized this as a way to cheer him up and appreciated it.

“That would be wonderful.”

(Next part coming out is ‘they escape Part 2 pocket edition’)

-Birdy

[jackyjango]

Part 1- Mouth to Mouth Combat

Pairing: cherik

Written for this prompt

Erik's empty stomach grumbles in protest. The digital clock on his monitor displays it's 2:30 PM, but he hasn't had a bite to eat since that morning. An ache has been steadily building in his head that throbs with every pump of blood through his jugular. Three ounces of coffee somehow hasn’t seemed to tame it. He needs something stronger. Something like nicotine.

He's mulling over how he wants to torture Sean for screwing up the third blueprint in a row when his phone begins to ring. Though he's set the ringing volume to the minimum, it draws the attention of his interns. Angel gets up from her seat with an excuse of locating a fallen pen while Sean leans back in his chair pretending to stretch his legs. Even though Alex’s eyes are stuck to the monitor, Erik knows that his ears are pointed in his direction. Utter bastards. At least Darwin is the only one in their lot who has the decency to pretend that he’s minding his own business. Pretend, being the key here.

Erik glares at all of them until they pretend to shrink back to work before picking up the call.

'Hello, aunt Ruth.’ He tries to keep his voice to a whisper, but it comes out as a growl. ‘No aunty, I'm not angry with you for calling. That's absurd- No aunty, I'm just at work. Yes, yes…. - yes aunty. You know I will. Of course, I will. Yes- I'm eating. He knows it too. What? This Saturday? Alright, I'll ask him if he's free. Yes, I'll bring him if he's free. Of course, I will.’

On the other end, aunt Ruth goes on berating Erik’s unhealthy eating habits without giving him a breathing pause while Erik nods and aquices to whatever she says. He’s just about to reassure her the third time that he’s been eating his meals on time when Azazel bursts into life in front of him with a hiss of air which overlaps with whatever Aunt Ruth says next.

Tapping on his watch, Azazel mouths the words: ‘Let's go.’

'Alright, aunt Ruth, I have to go now,’ Erik says, half getting up from his desk. 'Yes, yes. I'll check with him and text you. Love you, too… Bye.’

Pocketing his phone, he turns to glare at his sad-excuse of team members. Like a flock of birds dispersing at a pelted stone, they lung back to staring at the screen and tapping idle keys.

Azazel chuckles beside him as they head out into the roaring Genoshan sun.

The chicken roll they both take from the street vendor manages to vaguely quieten Erik’s stomach. He lights a cigarette after walking a short distance to the smoking zone in front of their office building. Floating the lighter to AZ, Erik sends out a text to Charles.

Hey, Aunt Ruth’s invited us to dinner on Saturday. You free?

The reply comes immediately, which means that Charles is on his free hour.

When am I not free for her cooking? Count me in! :)

While Erik sends aunt Ruth a text to confirm that both he and Charles would be coming for dinner, a second text comes from Charles.

Speaking of dinners, how does pasta sound for today?

Smirking, Erik takes another puff of his cigarette.

Are you cooking? Really?

Hey, my cooking isn’t all that bad. I’m decent. Well… mostly.

They both know that Charles’ cooking doesn’t come anywhere near the decent territory, so Erik doesn’t comment on the decency of Charles’ cooking or bring up the fact that he almost burnt the kitchen on three different occasions. Instead Erik sends out: In that case, A okay for pasta.

Stomaching substandard pasta is a small price to pay for being Charles’ roommate.

I assure you, my friend. You won’t be disappointed, comes Charles’ text followed by a grinning emoji.

The devil that he is, Az peeks into his phone and smirks. 'Taking to your boyfriend, huh?'

Erik rolls his eyes. 'Charles is not my boyfriend, Az. He's my friend, just like you are.'

Az shudders and blows out a cloud of smoke through his nose, the image rendering as the incarnation of Satan himself. 'Please, don't compare me with him.'

Erik supposes Az is right. It'd be grossly unfair to compare someone like Az with someone like Charles.

‘Hey,’ Az says, inhaling another puff of smoke into his lungs, ‘A friend of mine is playing at the pub downtown this Saturday. I’m going out with the boys. Wanna join?’

‘No, I’m going to aunt Ruth’s for dinner. You carry on.’

‘And is Charles going with you?’ Az asks way too innocently for Erik’s liking.

‘Yes.’ Erik agrees begrudgingly.

Az pins him with a look that spells out crystal clearly, see what I mean by boyfriends?

Erik barely restrains the urge to smack Az on the head. ‘He’s a friend and a roommate, Az. Nothing more.’

‘Really?’ Az asks leaning on a pillar, his movements gracefully feline; almost akin to a bored cat toying with a ball of yarn aware of the level of destruction it’s capable of. ‘Is that why you refuse to move out or is it because you prefer to travel twenty five kilometres to work?’

Okay. Erik will agree that travelling almost an hour to work is a bit of a hindrance. But it wasn’t a hindrance two years ago when Erik was looking for a place near the engineering firm he was interning at the time. He’d seen an ad on a communal mutant app asking for someone to share a two bedroom flat with. The man who had posted the ad, Charles Francis Xavier, at the time had been a freshly minted post graduate eyeing the position of a junior lecturer in the Genoshan university with a lease amount to a nice house too hefty to bear on his own.

The house itself was more agreeable to Erik and More importantly to Erik’s meagre stipend.

Charles had declared that he’s gay and a telepath the day they’d met, and that Erik should look elsewhere if he had a problem with either of those. In response, Erik had plucked the pen tucked into Charles’ breast pocket with his powers and had signed his half of the lease agreement.

Erik’s not an easy person to live with (and Az will enthusiastically attest to it). He’s weird and particular and controlling and territorial (And that’s just the first four entries on AZ’s list). He doesn’t know what to attribute it to, but living with Charles for a roommate is …. easy.

His living arrangement with Charles is comfortable. Charles doesn’t have any irritating habits. He isn’t stingy with money or particular with the groceries. He carries out his fair share of cooking and cleaning around the house. They take their turns doing the laundry and the dishes. What talent Charles lacks in cooking, Charles makes up for it in baking (And that’s coming from a man who hates anything with more than two spoons of sugar in it). He isn’t overly dirty or messy. Charles picks up after himself (except when he has finals or is in the middle of a research. The house is a dump zone for his tea mugs and their dining table is a disaster zone for papers during such bouts).

More importantly, Charles respects Erik’s boundaries. He doesn’t poke his nose into Erik’s business or needle Erik for anything he isn't willing to share. It helps that they keep their personal lives separate, too. Whatever flings he has, Charles keeps it outside of their shared home and Erik returns the favour. The only things they argue on are which show to watch on TV or which place to order in from. And all the times they’ve come very close to fighting are nights spent over a chessboard pitching points to and fro, for or against human-mutant relationships and ideologies. Erik would be lying if he said that he didn’t live for such nights.

In little over two years, Charles has become Erik’s best friend. And apart from Az (who’s more of a brother Erik can’t get rid of no matter how hard he tries), Erik doesn’t have many of them. So he doesn’t see why he should give up all of that for a few hours saved in commute to work.

Voicing any or all of it will only encourage Az to needle him more, so Erik shrugs and squashes his spent cigarette with the heel of his boot. ‘Come on, it’s getting late. I still have two blueprints to review before seven.’

Az groans at the mention of blueprints. ‘I have three to finish. God, Shaw will bite my head off my shoulders if I don’t complete it by today.’

With that, they move into the blessed cool of the air conditioned building.

Just before Erik turns on his monitor, a text alerts Erik (and by proxy all of his interns he shares his cubicle with). It’s from Charles and says: Got to get to my classes now. See you at home Erik! :)

See you at home, Erik sends and smiles to himself.

He just hopes Az doesn’t see it.

-

[ginanosakka]

The Mind of a Monster

Masterlist

I’m Sorry | Next

“Daddy, why does everyone look like that?” Your young and bright eyes stared up at your father’s, his own having no light or warmth in them, not even as he looked at you.

The smile that crept onto his face scared you, but you smiled back nonetheless like the naive little girl you were, just wanting to return your father’s love. In truth, you had been scared the moment you entered his company office, the automatic shift in energy when he walked in the room from all his employees had you fiddling with your fingers and doing your best to avoid eye contact. It was confusing to you why he wanted you to come with him today to introduce you to his work, but he never greeted anyone or even acknowledged their existence.

You wished you had paid closer attention and broken from his leash sooner.

“My dear, you’ll learn soon enough that these are inferior beings, and how they feel mean nothing when it comes to success.”

Sitting in a conference room filled with heroes was one thing, but sitting in a conference room full of heroes being debriefed on your secret criminal business father was another. Seeing all of these familiar faces made your palms sweaty and an anxious shiver go down your spine. They were all the former class 1-A students who met your father —whether that was by coincidence of scheduling, or these were the ones who couldn’t believe the case at hand, you didn’t know. None of them were as close as Mina and Katsuki so this truthfully had nothing to do with the past, but everything to do with the present news that came out not too long ago.

They were helping to protect their old friend’s child, and his now speculated ‘wife’.

“. . . I can’t give you any more information than that, the old bastard has all of his dirty work under security, but there’s someone who can.” Katsuki said, and you looked up at him from your spot next to Ashido and Kirishima, vacating your thoughts to meet his eyes that had landed on you. “Y/N.” He called, and you stood up from your seat.

You glanced at them all again, taking note of their very clear interest while finding the words to help them understand what you knew. It wasn’t just the ones who you had just seen again for the first time in years, this was also information and a plan that you had not run through with Katsuki, Mina, or Eijirou who had discussed this meeting with you beforehand. Whether it was because all three of them looked so concerned with your safety that your plan would positively not be received well, or simply because you yourself weren’t prepared to put everything at stake wasn’t abundantly clear.

A warm and soft hand grabbed hold of yours from where you stood, and you glanced at Mina to see her smiling with encouragement. “Don’t worry, I’ll have your back, ‘kay?” She said, and you squeezed her hand.

“Okay then. First things first, I want you all to know that I haven’t had contact with him since the last year you have all seen me, not even money related. When I was in close contact with him, I was unaware of any illegal actions he’d done until I was kicked out. Are there any questions on that?” You began, doing your best to get the most obvious questions out of the way first.

The eight heroes in the room — Tokoyami, Sero, Kaminari, Todoroki, Uraraka, Ashido, Kirishima, and Bakugou — all glanced at each other for a moment, and two hands went up: Todoroki, Kaminari. You looked to Todoroki first, his dual colored eyes piercing into yours like he knew you. From what you remembered from all that hero news Ryu loved, he had his own personal family issues that ended up public information. Honestly, you didn’t know if he was looking at you like that because he related to you, or was greatly suspicious of you. Either way, you nodded at him to voice his questions first.

“Did your father use you to fulfill his own goals?”

“Todoroki, let’s stick to questions that have something to do with the crimes and just her father.” Kirishima sweatdropped, and you could see Katsuki’s expression from the corner of your eye that looked like he wanted to send an AP shot right through his left side.

‘Never let him ask me anything, good to know.’

“Kami- Chargebolt, you had a question.” You redirected the attention to Denki who looked as done with Todoroki as the rest of the group, but once you called on him he refocused on you.

“If you knew he was doing illegal stuff at some point, why didn’t you say anything to the police before?” He asked.

The air became thick in the room, and all of them looked at you with their full attention once again, and that’s how you needed it to answer that. What they were about to take on may not be physically exhausting as a villain, but the mental toll this could take would be something they’d never forget. Their images will forever be changed in the media, and they’ll never look at those who run this world the same when you expose to them the man that they’d only met as a hopeful teenager. This was a man who would stop at nothing to stay on top, even going as far as to threaten his own blood’s life to ensure silence.

“When I got kicked out of my home, pregnant and a disgrace to him, he realized that I may not have known much about how the underground business he did, but I could easily stain his image by telling my story. About a month after I was kicked out, when I was two months pregnant, a man showed up at the hotel I was staying at and attempted to kill my baby. I survived with bruises and a stab wound that entered just between my rib cage instead of directly into my stomach. That man was hired by my father to kill me. . my mother had come to the hospital to break that news to me. She is the reason another attempt hadn’t been made on my life, but it was at the cost of me disappearing and never returning again.” You laid out the full story, sparing gruesome details but not leaving any room for confusion or continued suspicion.

Denki looked horrified as he tried to apologize, “I didn’t think he did something like that to you. I’m-“

You cut him off with a raised hand, “that’s why you’re here now. No one knows how evil Eito L/N is, because he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing to the public. This isn’t your routine evidence and arrest case, and if you think there’s a low that my dear old father won’t reach to make me disappear, you’re going to end up dead, or so far in the gutter of negative media attention that your career will be over in days. You’re going to find out information that will destroy the relationship between you and the men that have made you heroes. As we speak, he is most likely ten steps ahead of us all and expecting us to move as quietly as we can for the sake of your licenses and my business.” You explained, and Uraraka stood up in distress.

“Then we should be looking for evidence! Doesn’t this mean you could be being followed right now? Why are we sitting here discussing it?” She asked, and you nodded in agreement at her words.

“You’re right, but there’s a quick end to this that only I can do at the risk of my own life. . I didn’t go over this with any of you, and I deeply apologize for the trouble I will soon be causing, but I can’t let all of you save my life while I lay down and cower with my son.”

You whipped out your phone and searched up the first news outlet that came to mind, and just as you expected, your video was being played as you spoke. You laid it out on the table after turning the sound up, watching the video you had recorded last night played to the public.

“I am Y/N L/N, the daughter of a very well known man, Eito L/N. Six years ago, he told the public that I went overseas in search of a different life, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In actuality, six years ago, Eito kicked me out of his home after finding out I was pregnant and used that story to cover up my disappearance. I have since been living on my own with no help or contact from my father, and I urge all of you to look closer at those in power and wealth. You have no idea what they could be doing behind closed doors. Thank you.” You turned your phone off and slipped in back in your pocket as they all took in what you had done, and it was of course Katsuki who spoke up first.

“What the hell did you do?!” He growled, and you met his concerned and angry eyes with frightening intent.

“I’m making this a media circus, Dyanmight,” you smiled.

“You’re drawing him out, but why? Won’t that make this worst?” Tokoyami asked, but you weren’t the one to answer.

“He doesn’t know what she’s going to do. . she’s making it impossible to keep his tracks covered.” Todoroki looked at you, and you both nodded at each other in complete understanding. “Y/N just made this a lot easier for us.”

A/N: I was gonna keep dad’s name neutral, but it just didn’t make sense that they all would constantly refer to him as her father. So evil dad’s name is Eito! This is pretty much a small filler before we reach our real drama and end. I can’t promise a soon update and the hiatus is still very much in motion, but I wanted to get this out to you. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist (Closed) <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @dewdropwifu @star-light-imagines @kritiiiii @bakugosbottombitch @the2ndl @candybabey @simply-not-the-same @sam-i-am-1025 @mes-bisous @eternallyvenus @peppytine @chaelysian @definitely-yours @oikawarc @suneaterofthebig3 @m0na-l0ver @nkb0048 @losertsukki @notyourfavorlte @caramelsquares @hikaru-mikazuki

[trashforhockeyguys]

Don’t Hold Me -14- Carter Hart

A/N: Hi. I’m back. This is easily my favorite part so far. So so fluffy. All previous parts are linked in my master list as always. Enjoy guys <3

A sense of tranquility settled over you for the next few days. Classes were a breeze. Kora was happy, Carter was more than happy. You were able to spend more time with TK and Ethan. Life felt normal. You didn’t even have space to worry for once. You were at almost every game with Ethan and Kora, all of you in various Flyers jerseys, you were of course in Carter’s though, and very proudly did you wear it. You were sure a couple of girls took a picture or two of you messing with the guys during warm ups. But somehow, you didn’t care.  Carter made it all easy. So so easy. You loved him. You couldn’t say it….but you loved him.

“You have a dazed look,” Kora broke the silence that filled your dorm room.

“I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do,” She laughed, “You’ve been staring off into space for five minutes. Actually….not space, more like that picture of you and Cart.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you looked back down at the drawing you’d forgotten about. Everything just felt right. You didn’t know how to explain it, but you felt lighter than you had in years. You were sleeping better, whether you were with Carter or not. 

“Shut up,” You mumbled, feeling your face heat up.

“You loooooveeee him,” Kora half teased. 

“Yeah, and?” You tried not to think about what you just said. What you were fully admitting to her. Because this was definitely crossing lines now. 

“Wait, what? Seriously? You’d admitting that?” She sat down next to you, knowing this was a serious step for you. 

“I mean...I haven’t said it. But I think we both know?”

She smiled softly at you and sat down on the edge of your bed. Although you and Kora didn’t get off on the right foot in the beginning, it was safe to say she’d become your best friend. Maybe even like the sister you never had.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” She asked, knowing this was something new for you.

You nodded, slowly like you were afraid of confirming it. Almost as if you were afraid of Carter hearing, even though he knew he was on the ice at the arena for morning skate. But saying it out loud, admitting how you felt about him...it almost seemed like it was too much for you to handle. You hadn’t meant to fall in love with Carter. You didn’t want to at first. You wanted to hate him and drive him away. But it seemed that being his friend was easy, and falling in love with him was even easier. It all krept up on you until you had no choice but to stop ignoring it. 

“Yeah,” You mumbled, not much louder than a whisper, “I love him. Kora….I love him.”

Her smile grew, knowing you surely wouldn’t say it if you didn’t mean it. She knew that with Carter...you meant it more than you ever had before. This feeling with him was different than anything you’d known before. Easy to be friends….even easier to fall in love.

You held the stuffed animal that was almost forgotten on your bed. You didn’t bring it to Carter’s, especially not now that you often slept in the same bed with him. It was strange, to say the least. You weren’t trusting someone this much. Ethan and Travis, they were the only ones, and Nolan, but only after a lot of convincing on Travis’s part. 

But enough to sleep next to someone, to trust them that much, was something new entirely. You felt safe when you were next to him. You didn’t have nightmares like you did when sleeping alone, almost as if he kept them at bay somehow. 

You tried not to depend on him, you didn’t want to be that person. He had a job, responsibilities. You knew he couldn’t be there all of the time. You didn’t want to be a burden to him. But there was no denying how you felt about him. How much you loved him, even if you weren’t sure that you were ready for such a thing.

“So you’re going to tell him that then, right?” Kora questioned.

You shook your head, “No...no. Probably best if I don’t.”

“You are one of the most difficult people I know,” Kora stated, “Normally when you love someone, you’re supposed to tell them.”

You shrugged. Not knowing how to really put it all in words. You had too much going on in your head to really sort it all out. But the thought of telling Carter scared you more than you were willing to admit. Even now, you could still act like this wasn’t really happening. You could still try to protect yourself, minimize the damage.

“You realize you’re hurting yourself, and him, right?”

“It’s just easier…”

“Keep telling yourself that kid,” She sighed, “I gotta get to class. I’ll catch you later.” 

“It’s game night, I’m staying at his place tonight.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t have too much fun,” She said with a wink.

You watched as she left the dorm. You were left alone, trying to figure out where to go from here. Try though you might, you couldn’t figure out what to do. Nothing seemed to make sense to you. What happened if he really didn’t feel the same way, and you’d been kidding yourself this whole time? 

You tried not to think like that, you really did. You didn’t like being this person, not when you fought too hard to leave it all behind when you came to Philly. But so much of it was just ingrained in your brain, it wouldn’t go away no matter how hard you tried.

You took a deep breath and grabbed your belongings before getting ready to head to your own classes. Midterms were coming soon, and you’d have to start thinking about your final projects soon. You weren’t sure if you were ready for all of it to be over yet. Not when it meant leaving Carter.

On the way to class, you were too distracted by thinking about your boyfriend, the man that you loved, to even notice the note that fell out of your books, or that there was someone watching you. You didn’t even feel the chill that ran through you, didn’t even worry. Because all you could really think about was Carter.

It was hours later when you finally made your way into the Arena and into your seat. You almost felt a little dazed. It seemed to be setting in, what you told Kora earlier in the day. Because even in the arena full of people, and a game about to start, you just wanted to run out to him and tell him. No matter how scared you were….you wanted him to know. 

The thought alone was nearly enough to make you want to crap yourself, but you wanted him to know how you felt. He’d done enough to make you aware how he felt, without scaring you off by saying it. And you knew that. You knew he was doing everything he could to take it slow enough so that you wouldn’t run. He knew you’d scare easily.

You thought back on the last couple of months, and every moment you spent with him. He had a way of just bringing an overwhelming sense of calm to your life. You weren’t sure how he did it, especially since you didn’t make it easy for anyone. But he always seemed to manage. It was like he had some ability that allowed you to forget everything else when you were with him. You’d be lying if you said you understood how he managed it. 

Your phone lit up with a text from Kora, telling you that you needed to tell Carter, with a ton of winky faces. Your face heated. You hadn’t really had time to think about how the conversation would pan out. You didn’t know...you just didn’t know.

Maybe you were thinking too much about it. You wanted to tell him the other night, when he stayed and just held your hand. But all you seemed to be able to say was thank you. You wondered if he knew just how weighted that those simple words were...just how much they really meant. You said he knew, because it was easier than thinking that maybe he didn’t. Maybe he had no idea. 

Or maybe he did and just didn’t want to acknowledge it, just as you were afraid to. The fear bubbled up and threatened to spill over, filling you completely. Before...you would’ve let it. You would’ve let it take control and stop you from living your life. You would’ve hidden away and tried to forget...but not now. You weren’t that girl anymore, you fought hard not to be her. 

You wouldn’t let yourself slip like that again. You would fight it, every step of the way. Because you didn’t want to hide anymore, especially not from Carter. Not when he fought so hard to bring you into the light.

Your nails bit into the palm of your hand from where you’d clenched them so tightly. You looked at the small marks your nails left behind...you hadn’t done something like that in years. It was a habit you somehow broke after getting out of your hometown. 

You tried to force away the images that always seemed to flood your mind when it came to thinking about home. You once loved it. There hadn’t been a place where you felt more yourself. He took that away from you though. He made sure you didn’t get that feeling. Because all you could see were the pictures of your broken body that they used in court, to show just how badly he treated you. 

All you could do was feel the cold room of the hospital as the police talked in hushed tones outside the door, wondering who could’ve done that to a girl….you were just a little girl. Seventeen when it happened. Still so young...too young. Truth be told, you were still so young. You knew that. But you were growing, trying not to be the scared little girl anymore. 

You took a deep breath, not sure if you could sit through the rest of the game. You loved watching all of them play, but tonight you seemed to have too much on your mind. You couldn’t sit still long enough, barely making it through the first period. 

You weren’t paying attention to how they were playing. Missed when Travis scored thanks to a beautiful pass from Nolan, missed the glorious saves Carter made...all you could think about was how badly you wanted to lay it all on the line. Tell him everything. Let him see all of the darkest parts of you. 

By the time the game was over, you were practically running for your car. You sent a quick text to Carter, telling him you’d meet him at home. You didn’t even think twice about calling his apartment that...calling it home. You hadn’t realized just how much of a home it had become to you. All because of Carter.

You knew he wouldn’t be back for at least another hour, so you turned on the fireplace in the living room and cuddled up with your favorite blanket and a glass of wine. You just wanted to calm down a little, so you weren’t ready to practically crawl out of your skin.

What you hadn’t planned for though, was falling asleep to the sound of the fireplace crackling. The single glass of wine was enough to calm you down to the point where, with the fireplace, and the blanket, just seemed to be enough to allow you to drift off. 

It wasn’t what Carter expected when he came home. He knew you were going to be there, because you always were after a game, and because you told him as much. But the apartment was quiet, no music or TV, just the fireplace. He found your shoes by the door and couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his face when he saw your favorite blanket concealing your body. 

He’d gotten the big fluffy blanket for you after you completed a rather hard project. He wanted to help you celebrate, and he knew how much you loved simple things like that. You were curled into a ball, an empty wine glass on the side table next to you. You were still in his jersey, which threatened to swallow you whole, but you refused to let him actually buy you one. Instead, opting for an old jersey of his. You told him time and time again that you’d rather wear his jersey than some random one from the team store.

He didn’t want to disturb you, but he also knew that you hated sleeping on the couch all night. You often woke up with aches all over your body. He knew that more often than not, the pain was from more than just sleeping on the couch, but you never said anything more than that. And Carter knew better than to ask questions about that part of your life. 

He could see when you were thinking about it though. It was like a dark cloud settled over you. Sometimes you could shake it away, change the subject, but other times it was always lingering. He didn’t know how to fix it. More often than not, he felt a deep ache in his chest, knowing there wasn’t much he could do. 

He knelt down to be at eye level and gently shook your shoulder, “Hey, wake up.” 

You drew in a sharp breath as your eyes fluttered open, “You’re home.”

You started to sit up before he leaned down to kiss your forehead. There was a warmth in his eyes that you weren’t sure you’d seen before. Even in your half asleep state, you wanted to blurt it out. But you didn’t know how to go about it. How were you supposed to explain just how you felt with those three simple words?

“C’mon, let's get you to bed, okay?”

He didn’t give you a chance to get up, before he was scooping you into his arms. You held onto him, snuggling into his chest. You loved him. You loved him more than you probably ought to. You loved him so much that sometimes it hurt. 

“Good game,” You said with a yawn. 

He smiled, “You say that even when I play like shit.”

“No, I tell you when you play like shit.”

“I know,” he smiled, “And that’s just one of the things I love about you.”

He didn’t even seem to notice he said it. He set you down on the bed, still wrapped in your blanket, “I’m gonna go change, I’ll be right back.”

You changed when you got home, save for the jersey. You could hear Carter humming in the bathroom. You loved when he was like this. Post game and happy, you loved the simple moments that you were able to experience like this. 

You snuggled into the bed by the time that Carter came back out of the bathroom. A small smile spread across his face again. You savored it, you savored every moment you had with him. You knew that time would run out before you wanted it to. So you savored it. 

His warmth filled the bed. You instantly curled into his side, wanting to be as close to him as you could be. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as closely as he could. Savor the moments indeed.

“I love you,” He whispered into the dark room, “You don’t have to say it back. But I just thought you should know.”

You wanted to say it back, more than anything. But you couldn’t form the words. So instead, you kissed him softly before rolling over. Your face was a bright shade of pink, you were sure. His arms tightened around you, like he understood. He kissed your shoulder, the top of your head, and placed a gentle kiss on your neck before settling down and getting comfortable. 

“Get some sleep.”

That seemed to be all that needed to be said. He held you tightly as you began to drift off. You would never understand how safe you felt with him. How he was able to just quell all of your fears with just a few words. 

You were warm and safe and...and you were loved. You couldn’t ask for anything more. 

The light was starting to turn a dark shade of grey when your eyes peeled open. It was still too early to be awake, the city still seemed quiet. Carter was still breathing heavily, signaling that he was fast asleep. Normally he woke up long before you, it wasn’t often that you actually got to see him sleeping.

You tried to take in all of his features. There was a slight pinkish tint to his cheeks. Your chest tightened. How were you supposed to ever leave him? You smiled softly and brushed a stray bit of hair out of his face before softly kissing him. He stirred slightly before opening his eyes. He opened his mouth, ready to say something when you cut him off. 

“I love you too,” You whispered, “I really...really love you.”

He sat up quickly, like that simple confession woke him up even more, “You didn’t have to-”

“Shh,” you whispered, pulling him down towards you, “Just kiss me.”

And in the early light of the morning, you and Carter showed each other just how much you meant to one another. Soft and loving touches. Whispers of how much he loved you. You clung to him as if he was the only thing in the world that mattered. Truthfully, you weren’t sure the world outside even existed anymore. It was just the two of you in the bed. And that was all that mattered. You….and the man you loved.

[morganaspendragonss]

if your looking for a bth prompt what about used in sacrificial ritual where tk gets abducted on a run and carlos is the lead detective on this case of people getting murdered as sacrifices and they arrive in time to save tk but the ritual involved cutting limbs off and tk ends up losing a leg? perhaps w lots of fluff at the end? <3<3

anon, i cannot tell you how excited this prompt got me. i’d been toying with a very similar idea for weeks and this was the push i needed to actually write it - with certain modifications to fit your idea. (i promise it has a happy ending!)

i’m super proud of how this came out, and i hope you like it as much as i do!

@911lonestarangstweek day 7:  Free choice!

Two months ago, TK vanished, snatched while out on his evening run. Carlos will do anything to get him back, even if that includes running himself into the ground.

ao3 | 4.9k | cw: kidnapping, depictions of violence, death and injury, forced amputation, career-ending injuries

It’s been two months.

Two whole months since TK left for his evening run with nothing but a shouted goodbye and a promise to be home soon.

Two months since Carlos hadn’t even turned around, because apparently the dishes were more important than his husband.

Two months since they found TK’s shattered phone and wallet, abandoned in the park next to a pool of blood.

Two months since Carlos’s world came crashing down around him.

He blames himself - how could he not? He’s been the lead detective on this case for months; he’s the one who’s so far failed to catch the guys who have mutilated and killed so many people, and now might do the same to his husband. More to the point, he’s the one who is supposed to protect TK, and it’s clear he’s resoundly failed in that department.

His captain had tried to take him off the case, once they’d found out that TK had become the latest victim. But Carlos had informed him in no uncertain terms that he was going to keep looking for his husband, even if he had to go above his head to do it. 

They’d allowed him to keep the case, but Carlos knows he’s being watched. They think he’s having a breakdown and, the thing is, Carlos isn’t entirely sure they’re wrong.

He hasn’t slept in their bed since the night it happened, when he got woken up at two am to the sound of his ringtone blaring through the room.

“Reyes,” Mitchell had said, tone heavy. “I… Shit, Reyes. You gotta get here. There’s another one and I… I really didn’t want to be telling you this over the phone, but…”

She’d paused, and Carlos had sat bolt upright in bed, suddenly all too aware of the empty space next to him. And, in that moment, he’d known; even so, he’d still choked out a quiet, “No.”

“I’m sorry, Carlos. I truly am.”

*

He’s been living in a daze ever since, work and TK the only two things on his mind. He eats when he has to, barely sleeps, and never hangs out with their friends anymore, which he almost feels guilty for. They’re suffering too, Carlos knows this, but he can’t afford any distractions right now. If he were to be out somewhere and ends up missing the one chance he has to get TK back, he’d never forgive himself.

He’s just about to leave for another shift when there’s a loud, insistent knock at the door. Carlos rolls his eyes and goes to yank it open, about to tell whoever it is to leave him alone.

Only to come face-to-face with a very determined looking Grace Ryder.

“Grace,” he sighs, irritation dissipating. “Can this wait? I’ve got a -”

“I know you don’t have an official shift today, Carlos,” she interrupts, folding her arms. “Just like I know you’re working yourself to death, and I’m not going to stand for it anymore. You’re coming out with me, no arguments.”

Carlos shakes his head. “Grace… I can’t.”

“Oh, yes, you can.” She clicks her tongue, levelling him with an unimpressed stare. "You should be thanking me; Judd was planning on bringing the entire crew down here to stage a full intervention. Now, I managed to talk him out of that one, convinced him the last thing you need right now is a house full of people, but I will not hesitate to go back on that. So you've got two options. Either you go back upstairs and get changed and I'll take you out for coffee, just the two of us, or I'm gonna unleash my husband and the full force of the 126 on you. Choice is yours, Reyes."

He sighs, wearily meeting her eyes. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"No, sir, you are not."

Carlos closes his eyes and hangs his head, knowing just how stubborn Grace Ryder can be. “Alright,” he says, though his every nerve is screaming at him for it, “you win. Give me a minute.”

She smiles encouragingly at him. “I’ll be here.”

*

The coffee-shop Grace takes him to is mercifully empty, both of people and memories. He wonders if she did this on purpose, but figures it’s more a stroke of pure luck, his first in months. It’s a nice place; he’ll have to remember it for when - if - they get TK back.

Grace quickly returns with their drinks, placing a sandwich in front of Carlos, too. “Don’t even argue,” she warns. “I won’t hear it.”

Carlos forces a smile. “Thanks, Grace.”

They sit in silence for a while, Carlos keeping his gaze turned to the table, picking listlessly at the sandwich. He can feel Grace’s eyes on him, feel the tension in the air between them, and part of him wishes she’d just come out with it already.

The other part wants to run for the hills, but he’s pretty sure Grace would catch him before he got too far.

Eventually, she sighs, setting her mug down and leaning across the table. “Carlos, we miss you,” she says softly. “I know it’s tough, but you’ve barely spoken to any of us since it happened. We’re worried.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“No.” She shakes her head, voice still unbearably gentle. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy. There’s a difference. And that’s okay, up to a point, but you haven’t given yourself a break in two months and that is not okay. You know TK wouldn’t want you to be doing this.”

“You say that like he’s dead.”

Grace sucks in a sharp breath. “Sweetheart, you know that is not what I meant -”

“Maybe you’re right,” he cuts in, ignoring the pain in his chest as he finally looks up at Grace. “It’s been two months; you know as well as I do what survival rates are for missing persons, even in normal circumstances.” His breathing trembles and he squeezes his eyes shut, images of the bodies they’ve found so far flashing through his mind. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks next. “You also know that the third month is usually when the bodies appear. We’re running out of time, Grace, and I don’t - I don’t know if I believe any more.”

“Carlos Strand-Reyes, I did not just hear you give up on that boy.”

He smiles humourlessly. “Not on him, Grace. On me.”

A long silence follows his words, though Carlos can feel the disappointment and worry rolling off Grace in waves. He should probably feel guilty for ruining a perfectly fine day, but he’s just so tired. He’ll do anything to have TK by his side again, but each day that passes is another day that TK slips further and further away from him, and it’s difficult to hold on to hope.

“I’m terrified,” Carlos admits quietly, tears pricking the back of his eyes. “Any day now they’re going to tell me they’ve found another body, and it’s going to be him, and I won’t be able to handle seeing him like that. You don’t know what they do to them, Grace, it’s - it’s -”

His breath hitches, and suddenly Grace is next to him, gathering him in her arms as he breaks down in sobs against her chest. She shushes him, running a gentle hand through his hair and, for a brief moment, she makes it easy to push away memories of sightless eyes and missing limbs and slit throats.

Grace holds him close, murmuring assurances Carlos doesn’t really hear, until he’s cried himself dry. Then, she pulls back, swiping her thumbs under his eyes, unshed tears shining in her own.

“You’ll get through this, Carlos,” she says, wobbly smile on her face. “No matter the outcome, we’ll all be here to help you get through this.”

Carlos nods, but, privately, he thinks she’s wrong. If TK dies, he’s not sure he’ll be able to find a way through that, no matter how many people are by his side. Because the only one he really, truly needs, won’t be there. 

*

Carlos rubs his eyes, his vision blurring as he stares at crime scene photos, as he has been doing for the past however many hours. He must have gone through these thousands of times over the past eight months, and yet he’s still drawing a complete blank as to clues that could help them find the killers.

They’re always too careful, never leaving any DNA on scene, never caught on camera, never seen by witnesses. There’s not even much of a common denominator between the victims, aside from the fact that they’re all young - the oldest being 38 - and they were all alone when they were taken.

The only consistency in this entire thing is the bodies. Official cause of death is always a deep cut to the throat, accompanied by at least one limb being cut off when the victim was still alive, sometimes more. They never find the missing body parts, which bothers Carlos more than it probably should.

He rubs his eyes again, blinking hard to try and stay awake. He didn’t sleep well last night, which is nothing new, but the past two weeks have been exhausting. After Grace’s coffee outing, the 126 have been stopping by regularly, one or two at a time, to check up on him and make sure he’s doing okay. Carlos appreciates it, he does, but he doesn’t have the energy for it these days. 

He’s so tired that he doesn’t notice Mitchell walking up to his desk before she’s standing right next to him, casting a shadow over his papers. Carlos looks up, and dread washes over him at the grim expression on her face, the tense set to her shoulders.

“We’ve got another one.”

Carlos makes a noise halfway between a choke and a sob. “A body?” he whispers, looking up at her fearfully.

“A disappearance,” Mitchell corrects, and Carlos doesn’t even feel guilty for the relief that floods him at that. “Industrial estate across town, one of the workers got nabbed when he went for a smoke. Same MO, no witnesses - it’s them.”

He nods, praying that Mitchell doesn’t notice the way his hands shake as he gathers up his papers. If she does, she doesn’t say anything, though he catches her exasperated head shake when he turns back to face her.

“Let’s go.”

*

The crime scene is, as always, pristine, and Carlos can’t help but be frustrated, even if this is what he’s come to expect. The case had been wearing on him even before TK was taken, but now it feels like every dead end is a spit in his face, like the universe is taunting him directly.

He’s about to wrap up the scene when a young officer comes barreling towards him.

“Detective!” he yells, panting. “Detective Reyes!”

Carlos stops, raising an eyebrow as the officer skids to a halt in front of him, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he gasps. Straightening, he clears his throat, pointing across the street. “There’s a hidden speed camera over there.”

Carlos blinks. Of all the ground-breaking news he imagined might warrant such dramatics, speed cameras weren’t one of them. 

The officer heaves a long-suffering sigh, which, under any other circumstances, might be amusing. “We’re not sure yet, but, looking at the angle, we think it covers the place the guy got taken from,” he explains, and Carlos’s eyes widen. “If it does, we might be able to get some ID, maybe even a license plate. I know they’ve always been careful not to get caught on camera before, but they might not have known about this one. It’s a chance, Detective.”

Carlos breathes out shakily, mind reeling from the officer’s words. It’s a chance. An honest-to-god chance. “Have we pulled footage yet?”

“Doing that now.” The officer grins boyishly, and Carlos feels a small smile tugging at his own lips. He can’t let himself get too invested in this; there’s every chance that it’ll turn into yet another false lead. And yet.

Something like hope lights up Carlos’s chest, and he dares, just for a second, to believe in it.

*

It works.

It fucking works.

They don’t have an ID - the killers are at least smart enough to cover their faces - but they do have a plate, which they’ve managed to track to a warehouse on the outskirts of town. Carlos taps the steering wheel of his cruiser anxiously; they’re parked in some trees just out of sight of the building, and he itches with the desire to jump out and go.

Every second they wait here is one more second in which TK is still with them, suffering, dying. He chews on his lip, then turns to Mitchell.

“We clear on the plan?”

She raises an eyebrow. “I am. Are you?”

“What -”

“I know what this means for you, Reyes,” she interrupts, not unkindly. “I know what might be waiting for you in there. Now, if it were up to me, you would be benched. It’s too personal, and you’re way too close to it. But, since it’s not, you’ve gotta promise me that your head is screwed on tight, you hear me? We’ve got a good plan, and it’ll work, but it’s only good so long as we are all following it. So, you tell me. Are we clear on the plan?”

Carlos swallows thickly, glancing back in the direction of the warehouse. Mitchell is right - he is too close to it, and he’d be thinking the same thing if the situation were in reverse. He just… He can’t fathom being anywhere but here right now.

He can do this; he knows he can.

He has to, for TK. 

“Yes,” he says firmly, meeting her eyes. “We’ve got this.”

She nods. “Alright, then.” Her gaze shifts past him and she jerks her chin up. “There’s the signal. Let’s move out.”

*

It’s almost too easy, in the end. The suspects are woefully unprepared for an ambush, and Carlos doesn’t even need to fire his gun, which is always a good thing. They find the guy who was taken today in the same room as his kidnappers, a little worse for wear, but not too injured, all things considered.

Carlos wants to be happy about that, but he can’t. Not when TK is still nowhere in sight.

Mitchell takes over managing the scene and questioning the hostage. He’ll have to remember to buy something for her in thanks when this is all over; she’s been a rock over the past three months, often covering for Carlos with their supervisors when things became too much.

He glances around at the swarms of police and paramedics filling the warehouse, feeling oddly detached from it all. He’s itching to go looking for TK, but there’s only so far he can push things - though he’s being no help here, he has to maintain an appearance if he wants to not get fired.

That appearance being, the calm and collected detective, which is the furthest thing from what Carlos is right now.

His hands tap restlessly at his thighs, his senses dialled to eleven with anxiety, which only spikes when he sees an officer making her way towards him, a grim look on her face.

Please, god, no.

Carlos moves to meet her, but he’s not able to form the words for the question he needs to ask. Fortunately, she takes pity on him.

“We’ve found your husband, Detective,” she informs him.

Carlos swallows around the lump in his throat, trying to tamp down the fear. “Is he...?”

“Alive,” she says, and Carlos could cry with relief. “But he’s in bad shape. I’ve been told not to let you back there.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded. “I appreciate the concern, but my husband has been missing for nearly three months,” he says tightly. “It would not be a wise idea to keep me from him any longer.”

She hesitates, biting her lip uncertainly, but eventually relents under Carlos’s hard stare. “Alright. Follow me.”

Carlos is led down several corridors until they stop outside a door, guarded by two other officers. The woman who brought him has a whispered argument with them, but Carlos pushes past her to glare at them, his patience at an end now that he knows that TK is mere feet away from him.

“I told her to bring me here,” he says. “That man in there is my husband; I’m going in there one way or another.”

The two officers exchange a glance, then wearily sigh and nod, stepping to the side. Carlos doesn’t bother to thank them before rushing inside, coming up short at the sight of three paramedics crouched around a body on the ground. He can’t really see much of TK yet, but he feels frozen in place, his mind suddenly rebelling at the thought of having to witness what three months of captivity have done to him.

He shakes his head and wills his feet forward, feeling like he’s walking through treacle as he rounds to TK’s side. Bile rises in his throat and he can’t stop the gasp that escapes him when he finally catches sight of his husband - it’s worse than anything Carlos had imagined, and he’d imagined a lot.

TK’s completely naked; the paramedics have lain a sheet over his lower half, but it does little to hide his emaciated state, his entire body outlined with sharp corners where his skin seems almost shrink-wrapped to his bones. Carlos can count every one of TK’s ribs, and the hollow of his cheeks is deeply pronounced. His torso is discoloured from bruising and he’s horribly still and pale - Carlos would think he were dead if not for the barely there rise and fall of his chest.

That’s not the worst of it, though. Carlos’s eyes travel down TK’s body, cataloguing his injuries, before sticking on his left leg.

Or, rather, the space where his left leg used to be.

Carlos barely refrains from throwing up, his stomach turning at the bloody mess in front of him. This isn’t… In the back of his mind - in his nightmares - he’d known that this was a possibility, but he’d never prepared himself for actually seeing it. He doesn’t know if he could have prepared himself, even if he’d tried.

“Detective.”

He’s broken from his horrified staring by one of the paramedics, now standing in front of him. Strange - Carlos hadn’t noticed him moving.

He sighs, obviously disapproving of Carlos’s presence here, but his expression holds nothing but sympathy. “Your husband is lucky we got here when we did,” he says. “But I can’t make any promises, and he is nowhere near out of the woods yet. To be perfectly honest with you, Detective, it’s a miracle he’s still breathing right now. He’s severely dehydrated and suffering from starvation - it looks like his kidnappers were giving him just barely enough food and water for him to survive. I’m also worried about infection in his leg, plus there might be injuries we can’t see yet. We’ve done everything we can for him here, but we have to get him to the hospital as soon as possible. I’m assuming you’re going to ride with us?”

Carlos immediately nods. There’s no way he’s going to remain here, even if he knows he won’t be able to stay with TK when they get to the hospital. He trusts Mitchell to handle things, and he wouldn’t be of much use anyway, even more so than before. Not after everything he’s seen, everything he’s heard.

The paramedics get TK loaded on a gurney and Carlos follows them out, eyes locked on TK’s still form. He brushes a hand through TK’s limp hair, forcing back the tears burning in his eyes.

“Hold on, my love,” he whispers. “I’m here; you’re safe now.”

He hopes, somehow, that TK hears him.

*

“Oh my god.”

Carlos looks up from the bed at the sound of Owen’s voice. His father-in-law has a hand over his mouth, shock written all over his face at the sight of TK - what little that can be seen underneath all the bandages and machines he has hooked up to him. Carlos had done his best to prepare Owen for what he’d face when he arrived, but it had been an impossible task. He’d barely been able to get the words out, for one, but there was no explaining just how bad things are.

Nothing will ever be the same. Not that Carlos had ever expected that it would, but when (if, he reminds himself) TK wakes up, it will be to a completely different life than the one he had walked out of all those months ago. 

The physical injuries alone would be bad enough - and, god, he’ll have to do so much at home to make it safe for TK - but he’s more worried about how this will have affected him in other ways. Carlos can’t imagine the level of trauma his husband has suffered, and he just prays that they can find a way to get through it.

Owen’s face crumples as he makes his way across the room, collapsing heavily in the chair on the other side of the bed. He reaches out as though to touch TK, but snatches his hands back just as quickly, expression stricken. “Oh my god,” he repeats.

Carlos lets him be for a few moments, allowing Owen to process what he’s seeing at his own pace. He turns away so that he can have some semblance of privacy, though he can’t ignore the soft sobs he hears. It’s almost as though they’re mourning TK, even though they now have proof he’s alive, which is more than can be said for the last three months.

Eventually, Owen sniffs, and turns to address Carlos. “Have they… What did the doctors say?”

“Nothing concrete,” Carlos answers, focusing his gaze back on TK. “If he makes it through the next few days, then they think he’ll have a chance, but that’s a big if, Owen. There was so much damage. His organs weren’t functioning properly, he has a head wound from when he was first taken that never really healed right, and his leg… It had become infected where his kidnappers cut it; they had to take some more in surgery to stop it from spreading any further.”

He tears his eyes from TK to meet Owen’s gaze, almost wishing he hadn’t when he sees his own pain and grief reflected back at him. “It’s bad, Owen,” he chokes out. “I don’t know… I don’t know what I’ll do if…”

He shakes his head, the words sticking in his throat. Not that he really needs to say them; they’re both thinking the same thing.

“The doctors probably told you, but they’re restricting visitors to two until he’s more stable,” Carlos continues, eyes dropping back to the bed. “I know the team will want to see him, but do you think you can hold them off for a while? Just for a couple of days, until we know more. I don’t want to keep them from him, but I just…” He trails off, guilt welling up in him even though he knows this is what’s best. “I know it’s a selfish thing to ask, but I think it’s for the best, for everyone.”

“I understand,” Owen says gently. “I’ll let them know. And… I’ll do my best to prepare them, for when they do come and visit.”

Carlos nods his thanks and the two lapse into silence, broken only by the hiss of the ventilator and the beeping of the heart monitor. Proof that TK’s still with them, but each noise sends another bolt of pain through Carlos’s heart.

He squeezes his eyes shut, finally allowing the tears to fall down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Owen,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

Owen gasps. “What for?”

“I was supposed to protect him! This was my case, I’m the reason he got taken, the reason he might not make it. He could still die, and it’s all my fault!”

Carlos drops his head into his hands, chest heaving from the force of his sobbing. Distantly, he hears the scrape of a chair on linoleum, then Owen’s hands are on his shoulders, turning him into an embrace. Carlos falls into him, not caring about the almost childlike way he clings to his father-in-law.

“You found him, Carlos,” Owen whispers, rubbing circles on Carlos’s back. “You found him. Any chance he has at making it through is because of you. That’s what matters now; it’s the only thing that matters.”

*

It’s several more weeks before Carlos’s prayers are finally answered.

TK was declared stable some time ago, the doctors saying that, barring any unexpected complications, they should expect him to wake up. They hadn’t said anything about what the damage might be once he did wake, but Carlos hadn’t wanted to ask; at this point, he can’t focus on more than one thing at a time, else he knows he’ll fall apart.

He’s practically lived at the hospital since they brought TK in. He’s pretty sure Owen, his parents, and the 126 came up with a rota for making sure he wasn’t starving himself, because it was always someone different who attempted to pull him away from TK’s room for food or sleep in an actual bed. Carlos resisted as much as he thought he could get away with, but he’s not stupid. He knows he needs to keep his strength up if he’s going to be of any use once TK wakes up.

It happens early one morning, when the sun is just beginning to filter through the blinds. Carlos is already awake, keeping a vigilant watch over his husband, though he doesn’t quite believe it when TK’s eyelid twitches.

He holds his breath, waiting, and, just when he’s given it up as a trick of exhaustion, it happens again, both of his eyes cracking open this time.

“TK?” he breathes, half-rising from his chair. He reaches out and grabs TK’s hand, which moves - actually moves - in his, and tears spring to his eyes.

It takes a few more minutes before something like awareness creeps into TK’s face, his eyes fully opening for the first time in weeks. Carlos just sobs at the sight, drawing TK’s attention to him, at which point his expression turns to shock and disbelief.

TK’s mouth moves, but he can’t force out any words, causing panic to flash over his face and his breathing picks up. Carlos leans forward, squeezing his hand and stroking his cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says softly, reassuring him. “You’re okay, I promise, everything’s going to be okay. You’re in the hospital. I’m here, and you’re safe. God, TK, I swear I’m never going to let anything happen to you ever again, I swear it.”

TK shakes his head, still not understanding, so Carlos reaches to press the call button. He forces a smile for TK’s sake, though his mind is crowded with worries about what their next steps will be. It’s going to be a long time before they can even think about going home, he knows this, but everything is so uncertain now.

Carlos wants to believe that there can be some sort of normality in their future, but, right now, it seems like a distant dream.

*

Time passes.

He brings TK home.

It’s hard, so much harder than he thought, but they have a whole team of people willing to help out as much as they can. Paul and Grace often bring food, usually stopping to talk for a while afterwards. The others - most often Marjan and Judd - sometimes come by and take TK out in his wheelchair for a while, giving Carlos time and space to relax or tidy. Letting TK out of his sight was difficult at first, and he still gets anxious watching him disappear out the door, but he knows that the 126 would do anything to keep him safe.

He just has to trust them, which he does, implicitly so. 

Owen’s also a frequent visitor to their house, staying overnight a time or two in the beginning. Carlos is grateful for it; he doesn’t know how he would have coped if not for Owen’s steady presence while they were still figuring out their new reality.

TK struggles a lot, even with simple things these days. The head wound caused brain damage, leading to migraines and he has problems with speech and carrying out tasks. It breaks Carlos’s heart to see him, but he forces himself to keep up a front, only letting the emotion out when he’s alone - or, rarely, with one of the 126.

He suspects TK knows anyway, but they don’t talk about it.

It’s a long few months of recovery, of pain and exhaustion and frustration. But it’s all worth it, because it means that TK is alive. It means that Carlos has him back, and they can work on getting better together.

It means that, one golden morning, Carlos wakes up to see TK’s beautiful green eyes already open, watching him intently. He reaches out to caress TK’s cheek, then leans in and presses a gentle kiss to his lips, lingering for a long moment.

And, when he pulls back, TK smiles.

And it feels like everything is going to be okay.

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Here is the first one

Second :D

And last..he's looking at you 👀💦

ALRIGHT you know WHAT—

There’s…a lot going on here. So much so, that I have decided to create

CONTEXT

for these three images that is

COMPLETELY FAKE

because I think it’ll be a fun writing exercise. kind of a cringe move on my part, but consider: i have fun making up ridiculous lies about characters who don’t exist in real life.

(which is how I’m treating these, by the way. yes, they are pictures of kaneko nobuaki, but for my purposes, they are NOT actually him. they are distinct fictional characters who are not real.)

so if you’re feeling adventurous skip below the cut and watch me break it down:

Image 1: Accidental “Date” Makes Cousin’s Wedding Less Terrible Than Originally Expected

The year is 1999. Your cousin (who you are not particularly close to) is getting married…on a cruise ship. Your mother insists you attend. You insist upon spending 90% of your time sipping margaritas on the deck and flipping through the latest issue of Marie Claire while trying desperately not to think about the fact that you are surrounded by nothing but open ocean.

One of the (very drunk) bridesmaids tries to toss you a beach ball because you have been, and I quote: like, a total bummer this whole time. She misses. It hits the person next to you in the face. Great. Awesome. You think: well now who’s being, like, a total bummer?

Luckily the person who got hit in the face laughs the entire thing off. He says your friends seem…’lively.’ You say that’s pretty rich coming from a guy who looks like a rejected member of ‘The Clash.’ He insists that he left them, not the other way around.

You slip into conversation. You tell him that you’re here for a wedding. He offers his condolences. You accept them. He says he actually likes weddings—something about two people making a life-changing commitment speaks to him on a soul-level. That and the open bar, of course.

You suggest he crash the wedding. He says he’s not sure if he can make it—there’s a shuffleboard tournament that evening that he would just hate to miss, plus the latest issue of Soap Opera Digest is waiting on his bedside table just begging to be opened. You say that’s perfectly understandable, but, if he suddenly finds himself caught up on the latest All My Children gossip, he can meet you back here at four.

Surprise, surprise: he shows up. He’s wearing the same shirt he was before, but buttoned up this time—and with one of the most hideous neckties you’ve ever seen, which he apparently borrowed from the kind old man next door. Instead of complimenting his attire (because it is truly un-compliment-able), you take the opportunity to mention that this is a Titanic-themed wedding. He says that having a Titanic-themed wedding on a cruise ship is “kind of fucked up” and you solemnly agree.

Everyone is very surprised and pleased to see that you’ve brought a date—even the bride, who tells you that you’re “just like Jack and Rose.” You agree, much to her delight…until you say that, if the ship goes down, you also won’t share the door and let him freeze to death in the icy water. He insists he’d be the guy who jumps off the ship and hits his leg on the propellor—that’s his favorite part of the whole movie, and it’d be an honor to re-enact the scene.

The wedding is…a wedding. Vows, toasts, pictures—and you’re sipping champagne through the entire thing. The two of you spend the evening getting completely wasted and telling everyone a different story about just who your ‘mystery date’ is. Highlights include: the captain’s unruly son whose been tasked with following in his father’s sea-faring footsteps; professional cave-diver who discovered a new species of slug and is spending his reward money on a nice vacation; head of marketing who gives all those clever names to the nail polishes at OPI; the guy who folds everyone’s towels into animal shapes.

You end up where you started: on neighboring lounge chairs, with a margarita, and talking to this stranger who has recently crossed into “acquaintance” territory. You chat about how “My Heart Will Go On” is actually a good song, and he promises not to tell anyone that you said that. He also says that this is the best Titanic-themed cruise ship wedding he’s ever been to, and he can’t wait until somebody decides to do Jaws.

Eventually, you both stagger back to your rooms with promises of seeing each other at breakfast. Unfortunately, you have the worst hangover of your life the next morning and even the thought of ‘breakfast’ makes you want to roll over and die, so you don’t manage to stumble out of bed until it’s time to disembark.

You see him at port, and you each offer each other a little wave before going your separate ways. Six weeks later, you get a Polaroid of the two of you together, sitting at the bar and laughing at something that must have been very, very hilarious.

You don’t remember most of what happened that night, but you remember it was not as terrible as it could have been.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 2: Extremely Weird Guy On The Street Has You Questioning Your Sanity

It’s 6:00 in the morning—a truly terrible time to be awake, but a necessary evil. Your flight leaves at 10, and since it’s an international thing, you want to make sure you get there in plenty of time to get to your gate (and maybe sample all the fancy perfumes you can’t afford at one of those high-end stores that are always in airports.)

The streets are mostly empty, save for a few random pedestrians and a handful of passed-out salarymen snoozing on the curb. The sky a rainy gray-blue as the sun tries to rise behind the springtime cloud cover—it’s no doubt going to be another dismal day, as is common during this time of year. Hopefully there’s not too much turbulence on your flight…

You stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the little walking man signal to show up on the light across the way. You’re soon joined by another person—a man in a soft-looking jacket who supplies you with a small “good morning” bob of his head. You respond in kind, throwing in a small smile for good measure. It’s nice that he too understands that it’s entirely too early to be having any kind of conversation, even if it is just a simple verbal greeting between strangers on a street corner.

The light changes, and you both begin your trek across the street. Your fellow walker is faster than you—or, more likely, has longer legs and, ergo, a longer stride than your own—and is nearly halfway across by the time you get your wheeled suitcase over the curb. He seems decent enough. You hope he’s going somewhere nice.

It’s then that you make the mistake of looking up. It would have been much better if you had just continued watching the white painted lines on the road and thinking about how it reminds you of piano keys—and how you hated the six months of piano lessons your parents forced you to take in the first grade.

But no. You noticed someone walking towards you, and you just had to look up.

The first thing you notice is a rainbow tie-dye shirt. The second thing you notice is that the rainbow tie-dye shirt is on a very cheerful looking gentleman, who seemed to be bobbing his head in time with a song only he could hear.

The third thing you notice—and this one’s the real kicker—is the large blue-and-green reptile sitting on his shoulder. It’s bulging eyes are hooded in pleasure as it’s red-pink tongue darts out to eat the green something—maybe a grape or a small piece of melon?—from the rainbow tie-dye man’s hand. It is nothing short of a spectacle, honestly, and you feel a piece of your sanity evaporate.

The rainbow tie-dye man continues on, uncaring of your confused stare at his strange pet. You even turn around to make sure that you weren’t somehow hallucinating, and sure enough, there is definitely some kind of creature draped over this stranger’s shoulder. It’s tail even sways in time with the man’s steps, which is both cute and confusing.

Because it would not do to stand in the middle of the street all day, considering the existence of rainbow tie-dye man and his exotic pet, you do the only thing you can do: turn back around and continue on your journey. You need a coffee. Maybe with an extra shot of espresso, after witnessing whatever the hell that was. Something to set you right again.

“Was that…?”

The other man—the soft-coat long-stride one—is speaking low enough as to not draw attention, but loud enough for you to hear as you make your way towards the sidewalk. His expression reads ‘concerned, but trying not to show it’ which you suppose is the polite and mature way of handling the situation.

“…an iguana? Yeah,” you answer him, “I saw it too.”

The man’s brow furrows. His mouth puckers into a small frown as he considers…well, something.

“…Okay, then,” he concludes, shrugging his shoulders, “Hell of a way to start the day.”

“Yeah.”

And you both continue on your way. He turns left at the next intersection, you turn right—but even though your paths may now be different, you will forever share an unbreakable bond over the fantastical sight you’ve witnessed today.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 3: Near Death Experience At Open Mic Night

You are not a poet.

Well, not professionally, anyways. You’ve been known to dabble in the written word, often scribbling little snippets of rhyme in a notebook over your lunch break or tapping a verse or two into the notes app on your phone. It a kind of outlet, you suppose—a way to keep the creative energy that bubbles inside of you from boiling over.

It’s also worth mentioning that you are not a confident public speaker. Not since that unfortunate incident in the third grade where you forgot the single line you had in the school play and ran off stage, tears streaming down your face and—actually, no, you’re not going to think about that right now. Or ever again, hopefully.

So when your (tipsy) coworkers decide that it’s a good idea to push you onto the stage at the local dive bar’s open mic night—while shouting at you to “read the one about the night-blooming jasmine”—you freeze up. There are at least seven strangers staring at you, expectation rising with every passing second of your inaction. It’s nerve-wracking in the way that the third-grade incident was not, and you gulp against the nervousness that rises in your throat.

Shaking hands scroll frantically through your phone, looking for the requested poem—and after a few agonizing moments, you manage to find it. Your voice cracks rather embarrassingly as you begin to read, trying your damndest to get the words out right so you can slink back to the bar and drown the rest of the night in Chardonnay.

Everything is going well—or, at least, as well as can be expected—until you notice that the room is suddenly feeling very hot. That’s the last coherent thought you have before the room goes dark and everything falls silent.

Next thing you know, you’re staring at the ceiling. A man who you do not know is leaning over you, and his mouth is moving—oh, he’s probably trying to say something to you, but it’s very difficult to tell what he’s saying over the throbbing pain in the back of your head.

You ask him if you’re dead. It’s a possibility after all, that you’ve somehow died and landed yourself in some kind of special public-speaking hell. That’s what this feels like, anyways.

The man says no, you are not dead. You say ‘dammit’ in response. He tries to hold back laughter, offering to help you up by extending his hand. You take it and—ouch, ugh, ew, going from laying to standing is not a fun experience.

You thank him (albeit awkwardly) for helping you up, and he insists that ‘it’s cool.’ Passing out in front of an audience is not even remotely cool, but you nod and thank him again, anyways.

Before you’re able to converse with the helpful stranger any further, your coworkers have come to collect you. You are whisked away by someone from accounting, who offers to escort you home—an offer you gladly accept, very excited to leave the site of your failure behind you.

Safe to say, you never go back to that particular bar again.

[blu-archer]

Disaster Day

There are probably going to be grammar mistakes, because I can’t proof read to save my life... But hopefully it’s not hectic

Anyway, this was requested.. I kind of got carried away a bit, but I hope it’s close to what you may have wanted!! 

Word count: 6691

SNZ - Allergies

‘Sickie’: Jungkook

Caretaker: VHope

like [mild] inducing I guess... it’s meant to be cute and like, familiar..?

Hybrid Universe

*Awkward Peace Signs* 

uhh yeah, thank you for support and please enjoy it..<3

****

Jungkook was exhausted.

To be fair, his day had been jam-packed full of lectures and dance activities, so it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise – if only that was the initial cause of his problems. No, despite his day of hard work his fatigue plagued him less due to the events of his schedule and more specifically to the day. His annual disaster day.

It had started when Park Areum had pranced up to one of his best friends in the food court that morning. Giving a shy smile before unloading a gift bag of chocolates and whipping a small bouquet of various bright flowers out from behind her back as she whispered a soft ‘happy valentines’. Jungkook had to force the urge to groan, not wanting to appear rude while Jaehyun politely accepted the gifts, shooting an apologetic glance towards the hybrid. And from there it had only gotten worse.

It was rather unfair. Jungkook loved flowers, they were beautiful, and they smelt sweet and pretty, but the love was clearly  not mutual. It hadn’t taken him long before the incessant itch clung to his sinuses, making paying attention to his classes increasingly difficult. All around him students traded cards and flowers with mirth, and he wanted to go home. Yugyeom had given him some of his own allergy medication, upping the dosage, but it was never truly effective for Jungkook. His hybrid genes just burnt off anything in his system before any real progress could be made. So, he was left to suffer.

It was hard to believe his day had taken such a turn for the worst, it had started off so well too. 6am he had been nudged awake by soft prodding and strokes along his sides. This had caused him to twist and muffle his giggles into Taehyung’s bare chest - only to realise that he had trapped himself in the infamous ‘iron cuddle grip’ and had left himself vulnerable to the hands rousing him from sleep. Hoseok hadn’t hesitated to continue, letting Jungkook’s whines and squirms be responsible for waking up Taehyung, and even if the witch had pouted and been grumpy for the first half an hour, it had quickly dissolved into teasing and discussion about whatever usual whacked dream Tae had had during the night. They had eaten breakfast together and shared kisses in the shower and had even gone as far to drop him off at school together to give him final kisses and promises for the day ahead.

Yet now he sat miserably in his drawing class, catching a sharp flurry of sneezes into his palm, and trying his best to sink into the shadows and away from everyone’s lingering gazes.

It wasn’t like he could help it. The frequency of the attacks were becoming more apparent with each passing moment and being in an enclosed theatre wasn’t helping. The girl next to him offered a sympathetic look before digging out some tissues for him, gesturing to a smudge of charcoal on his face as well.

Jungkook didn’t even care how desperate he appeared when he excused himself to the bathrooms to blow his nose. His head was beginning the ache and no amount of sniffling could help his running nose. There was a lengthy moment in the bathrooms just dedicated to splashing water on his face before staring blurrily at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were tinged red and his nose had taken on such a bright hue that if he walked home someone would probably grab him to shoot a cold commercial. Looking closely – and this very well may have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that he could see a fine layer pollen sticking to his black ears. It was probably there. With how tight his chest was feeling, there had to have been something on him.

He coughed and blew his nose once more, contemplating if it would help if he just blocked his nostrils with the tissues from the rest of the session. He would look like a fool, but it could help… then again, with how sensitive his nose was currently it would probably just make it worse.

 A big part of him wondered what Tae and Hobi were doing, they weren’t allergic to flowers like he was so they were often able to still enjoy the day without having to worry too much about how they were going to feel at the end of it.

Hoseok had probably been spoiled by his classes and other staff members. Even before they’d started dating, Jungkook could see how much he appreciated the small little love notes or being gifted with a flower or a surprise date, or just being able to flaunt a relationship and be emerged in a bubble of emotions that left people staring longingly. He was able to do and get all of those things now, perhaps not all from Jungkook, but he got everything he deserved. Valentine’s day was always a big day from Hobi, probably because he never really cared about it before – especially back when he had still not to come out. And Jungkook was glad that he got spoilt now, he loved that people loved his boyfriend, and he especially loved how after being showered in complements and affection all day, the dancer came home and reached out in preference to his boyfriends.

With regards to his witch, the events shouldn’t be that much different. Taehyung was probably hiding behind some shelves, going through spell books. Or playfully flirting with Namjoon and Yoongi again. Or knocking off the love attempts of his small following of ‘fans’ that often came to the shop to swoon over him – much to Yoongi’s annoyance. Jungkook could never actually tell how Tae’s day would go. It seemed that every day was a day that someone expressed their ‘love’ for him, that hadn’t changed from when they had been teenagers.

Sinking to the tiled floor, he brought out his phone, frowning at the new crack in the screen from when he’d dropped it early that day. His ears drooped low, almost hiding his face as he stared down at their group chat.

Tae had posted an image about an hour ago of him fanning away faux tears while holding up three red roses dramatically, claiming that someone had -Unsurprisingly - confessed their undying love to him. He could see Yoongi over his boyfriends plaid shoulder entirely unamused at his apprentices actions. No doubt Tae had been lectured or had been subjected to a mouthful of tired, witty complaints after taking the photo.

Jungkook smiled at the quick replies beneath it.

From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“Hope they have life insurance.”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“Hobi... You can’t kill them….”

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“Don’t need to. Poor heart must have given out in defeat after you told them about your two super protective boyfriends.”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“Two super protective, lovable and sinfully attractive boyfriends. And yes. I think a part of it did, and again when Yoongi interrupted them after they propositioned for a number swap…. but on an upside. I got to boast about you both again!! Highlight of my working hours.”

 After some more mild threats, Hobi mentioned some other points of his day – mostly speaking about the dare Jimin had been put up too, crashing into the staff room that morning wearing a bright pink and white cupid outfit with wings and a halo, throwing around confetti and giving him sunflowers, and then all of the cute cupids throughout the separate grades coming to hand out things or sing to designated students.

There were some time gaps in the conversations after that, between the sections where either of them were too busy too answer, but they seemed to be having fun as they switched to teasing each other. Both had left prompts or questions for Jungkook more than once, always willing to drag the youngest into their banter. Although his absence wasn’t uncharacteristic, his eyes still lingered on the softly toned question that Tae had slid out barely fifteen minutes before, asking whether Jungkook was busy and what he had been up too…

 Not feeling up to making excuses, Jungkook tapped into his camera and took a quick, slightly blurry selca – not even bothering to double check it before he sent it through the chat. He looked terrible, and he would still look terrible if he checked it anyway.  He breathed heavily from his mouth as he wiped his nose, only to increase the sensitive tingles that pulsed through him. Jungkook could feel his eyes burn with irritated tears and they itched. God he wanted to rub at them, and his ears, they always got this way when he was around flowers for too long, but he knew it was a bad idea. University was not the place to let his allergies and instincts completely control his actions.

He lifted his phone lazily to see new messages had come through.

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“Oh Bun…”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“Are you okay?”

“Allergies?”

“Is it bad there?”

“Can you breathe fine? Should I come fetch you?”

 From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“I think you should leave early… Tae, ask Yoongi to borrow his car..”

“and maybe bring something menthol.”

 ..

“I’m fine mostly… Just really sneezy. And my chest is a little tight but it’s not that bad, probably frojnm” –

Jungkook sneezed openly into his lap, blinking in a daze before realising he had accidentally sent the message.

“from exposure.”***

..

From: ~♥Tae♥~

“I’m going to leave now, should I come fetch you from a specific building? Or wait outside?”

..

There was a small part of Jungkook that felt bad for being an inconvenience, but mostly he was satisfied that he was going to go  home. Even if that meant that Tae missed out on some of the usual adoring customers being even more adoring towards him, Jungkook will get to shower and nap and just exist in peace for a bit. And that sounded great.

“outside. I’ll leave now.”

..

From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

“love you Jungkook. I’ll be home as soon as I can!”

 From: ~♥Tae♥~

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, maximum.”

   He didn’t waste any more time. Discarding his used tissues, Jungkook shuffled back to his classroom. He coughed into his fist as soon as the door to the theatre had closed behind him, locking him inside with his demons. Thankfully he didn’t have to explain much to his lecturer. They had taken one look at him and just waved him away sympathetically, telling him to feel better and to try get some work done later if possible. Given the all clear, he had practically sprinted out of the room after grabbing his supplies.  

 The sun beamed down on him, almost brutally. His black wardrobe wasn’t helping much in that regard, but he walked hastily through the bustling courtyard to find the shading parking area just outside the security gates. A campus guard gave him a brief wave as he passed, eyes softening a little at the state of the shy, yet charismatic hybrid that he had come to know. Jungkook held his wrist to his nose as he ventured further away from the small crowds of people. He found an old bench that was situated under one of the many large Korean oak trees, that’s shadows were cast over his skin mimicking that of a cool breeze. It wasn’t the most comfortable seat, but it served his purpose. After getting as comfortable as he could on the frail wood, he tried once more to clear his nose. It was a hopeless attempt of trying to rid himself of symptoms, one that had obviously failed and had left him sinking back into the old harsh wood of the bench with closed eyes. He couldn’t smell the usually musky, earthy scent that clung to this area and he wasn’t willing to send himself into a fit by looking up at the dappled light shining through the leaves over head – although he could probably recall each and every possible shade that it could be right then. He’d tried to paint the various lighting on the leaves many times, year-round. The view was usually one he’d never want to miss, but the day had taken every last bit of energy he had and trying to appreciate it right this second just wasn’t going to be possible.

 “Kook?”

Jungkook opened his eyes to see Taehyung peering out of the driver window of Yoongi’s much loved Jeep. Had ten minutes passed already? It hadn’t seemed like it… Jungkook blinked slowly at the vehicle a few steps in front of him, reached to rub subconsciously at his eyes. Taehyung looked just has beautiful as he had that morning, his pinched brows more prominent by the red bandana that exposed his forehead. He had parked the car at a slant so that he could pull off easily, not caring about the irked glances security was sending his way for taking up more than one parking.

Realising a bit belatedly that this was his lift,  Jungkook sniffed and grabbed his things, shuffling tiredly to the passenger door. He vaguely heard Tae say something else as he hopped into the seat and tossed his things to the back, but he wasn’t really paying attention. A warm hand brushed through his hair, down his arm and then settled on his own fist. Jungkook closed his eyes once more and rested his head against the glass as Tae started driving, his hand being intertwined into a tight grasp that lay between the both of them as he drifted languidly to the sound of tires on tarmac and Tae’s gentle humming.

    **

“How is he?” Hoseok asked as Taehyung grabbed two of the three grocery bags the elder had been carrying inside, both moving too quickly put them onto the kitchen counter before starting to pack things away.

Hoseok had wanted to come home straight after work but had opted to going shopping in order to at least make something up for later if Jungkook was up for it – he was able to grab a few things for his boyfriends as well. They usually didn’t get things for each other when it came to these types of holidays, but he couldn’t help himself.

Taehyung shrugged. “He was really tired, so I had to wake him up a few times before he could shower, then he just kind of went to bed. I barely got a full sentence out of him.”

Hoseok sighed heavily. It wasn’t as worrying as the first few times he’d seen Jungkook get allergy attacks, he’d learnt that the hybrid tended to get stuck in his head and what he was feeling. Most of the time Jungkook didn’t even realise that he was going quiet, but Hoseok wished that he would at least let them help more.

“He probably just needs some time for the worst of it to calm down, I bought some scented lotions for later. If he wants it. Some dark chocolate too.”

“Should we make a soup or something?” Tae pondered. They usually stuck to warm foods when it came to allergies and colds, especially with Jungkook who was prone to rhinitis.  

“I was thinking about making a curry, or ordering one in if Jungkook needed us, but if he’s still asleep we can start making it now. The spices would help a bit.” Hoseok pursed his lips as he looked over what was yet to be packed away, his hands resting on his hips.

He startled a bit when he felt Taehyung wrap his arms around him from behind, resting his head into the crook of Hoseok’s neck as he engulfed the dancer into a fierce yet tender hug. Taehyung laid a kiss just below Hobi’s ear, smiling against the elders skin before sighing happily and relaxing onto his boyfriends sturdy frame.

“Why don’t you go shower so long? You’ve also had a long day… I’ll start cutting everything for you, I’ve gotten better - you’ve taught me well.” Tae said softly, his chest warming as Hoseok leant back as fluidly as he had leant on the dancer. “Then we can set up for a nice night in. Kookie didn’t even bother to set up a nest earlier, so I think it would be nice if we tried to do something like that for him. Then he can be comfortable enough to decide if he wants help or not…”

Hobi chuckled. “A little eager?”

“What can I say? He’s adorable… and I wasn’t the one that bought scented lotions and chocolate.”

“Touché.” Hoseok stepped out from the embrace with a grin, not wanting to inform the witch that he’d gotten those specifically because he knew the other two enjoyed it. He didn’t typically get the same reactions from it as they did, but he loved the care involved. Thinking about what the night entailed got his body buzzed with warm sparks as the expensive gift bag that he’d smuggled inside using his duffle bag came to mind. He couldn’t wait to for his boyfriends to see what he’d gotten them. “I’ll go shower, hopefully Kook is feeling better later… Be careful with that knife!”

 It wasn’t long before both Taehyung and Hoseok had finished with their preparations. Their meal was simmering away, filling the apartment with rich spicy aroma’s, and they had transformed their lounge into what they hoped was an appropriate nest of sorts. Carrying a mattress from one of their guest rooms had been a little difficult to do quietly, but Tae had peeked in on Jungkook to see that he was still uncovered, lying diagonally across their bed, smothering his snores into a pillow. After that, collecting a variety of blankets, pillows, plushies and majority of the soft scarves and sweaters that they had, had been a piece of cake. Hobi had made sure to dedicate a small table to the lotions and tissues, while another stayed mostly bare for their food and drinks later, the only thing adorning it was the chocolates Hobi had bought alongside a small herbal arrangement that Tae had gone and grabbed from Hoseok’s little garden on the ground floor, adding a few roses that he had easily twined up from wire.

Overall, it looked cute. It had even been fun to make.

They curled up on their soft creation while Taehyung set up a line-up of movies, listening to Hobi’s suggestions intently – not caring that half of his ideas were going to leave them crying if they watched them.

If its what Hobi wanted, it’s what he was going to get.

 It was just before six when Jungkook stumbled into the room. His nose was still red and a bit swollen, and his fist rubbed at his one ear with annoyance. The bunny hybrid had paused, his brows pitched into a tight frown as he took in the set up before him, then sniffled and collapsed onto Taehyung where he sat amongst the blankets.

He had woken up feeling a bit more refreshed, that tightness in his chest had disappeared, but he was still bothered by that  itchy feeling in his sinuses and congestion.

“How’re you feeling, Bun?” Hoseok asked as he joined them from the kitchen. His hand tangling up into Jungkook’s hair before scratching slowly at the base of his ear.

The hybrid blinked as a buzzed sensation did a lap through his body, leaving him rubbing a finger under his nose harshly. He could feel Taehyung pulling him back so that he’d be resting against the witches chest, Tae’s large hands rubbed ticklish circles into his sides that left him twitching in the elders lap.

..

..

“Bun?”

“’m fine..” Jungkook answered, focusing his slitted gaze on Hoseok’s face hovering before him. “Just…meh.”

Hobi hummed lowly. He dragged his nail along the length of Jungkook’s ear, sending shivers to course through his body. Hoseok did it again – slower – grinning as he watched as Tae flushed lightly and bit at his lip while Jungkook squirmed harder against the witches lap.

“What’s bothering you Kook? Should we help?” Hoseok asked softly.

“We made some food for us, too.” Taehyung added, a smidge deeper than usual. “We were going to wake you, but then we wouldn’t have been able to surprise you…”

Jungkook smothered a yawn into his fist, resting his head back onto Tae’s shoulder as he glanced around. The smile that spread across his lips wouldn’t stop growing as he caught sight of everything that they’d put into their attempt at nesting. They’d actually done well, almost an exact copy of what he would have done. His gaze landed on a set of lotions and the itch in his nose only seemed to increase at the thought of opening one of them.

“Food sounds great.” He said, scrunching up his nose. “I didn’t really feel like eating earlier.”

Without a moments’ pause Hoseok was heading back to the kitchen, followed closely by Tae who had gently nudged Jungkook to curl into the blankets beside him rather than on him so that he could help. They had dished up hastily, putting a hefty amount of the curry and rice mixture on the hybrids plate before carrying it out. Tae had made sure to grab a few bottles of flavoured milk before he returned to the room, where Hoseok and Jungkook were lighting up two of his large, sturdy scentless candles. With a soft smile he flicked his wrist towards the switch on the wall as he sat beside Jungkook, letting the room fall to darkness before the candles flame settled into a stable glow. They moved the candles up on either side of the tv screen and away from any possible accident range.

The meal had been a simple setting of silence, the trio all paying attention to either their food or the film that was playing just loud enough to not disturb the neighbours. Jungkook had sat through half the meal with tissues grasped in his hand, wiping at his nose every few minutes as the spices and heat opened up his sinuses. The itch had still not left, but had taken a bit of a backseat momentarily, which Jungkook didn’t know if he was thankful or annoyed about.

This definitely wasn’t exactly how he had planned for this day to go, it never was, but his boyfriends had somehow found an alternative to still have a good time. A part of him knew, the part that kept glancing back to those meticulously arranged lotions, that it would feel good to sneeze now, unlike earlier when the rest of his symptoms were problematic. Yet he didn’t want to ruin the soft mood that had been created. Not to mention asking them to help him with his nose was probably not very high on the romance list. Just one normal Valentines. That’s his aim. Just one. Surely it was possible…

So, he bit down on his lip and tried his best to ignore that lingering tickle, sipping on some milk, and letting the chocolate melt over his tongue.

They had just started the second film -another cute romcom that Hoseok had been hung up about- when Jungkook felt that tickle become apparent once more. Consuming him so far that he hadn’t realised that he had audibly hitched until he felt Tae’s soft, concerned strokes along his back. Defeated, Jungkook raised his hands to hover in front of his face, letting his breath shake and build – only to rapidly blink in confusion as the urge left him disappointed and sniffling. He frowned, then shrugged sheepishly at his boyfriends who had both turned to watch him. Hesitantly, they returned their focus to the movie, Hoseok had shuffled a bit closer to hug into Jungkook’s side while he watched so that he could hide his smile into the hybrids shirt each time something cute or embarrassing happened on the screen. Which Jungkook usually encouraged, but now Hoseok would give him a quick sideways glance each time he felt the youngers breath stutter – and he was almost certain that Taehyung had been aware of it as well after he moved the open box of tissues closer. After the fifth empty promise Jungkook didn’t care that it was blatantly obvious what he needed, he just wanted to be able to sneeze.

He sat up straight, causing Hobi to be pushed off of him, and rubbed at his nose as he glanced up to the ceiling. His breathing built shakily but once again, nothing happened. He let out a frustrated moan and pressed both hands to the base of his ears, rubbing hard to try and force some sort of result out of him.

“Jungkook?” Hoseok prodded, pulling one of the hybrids hands away from his ears. “What’s wrong?”

“I ne-h’hih-ed to sne-ehh..hh’heh…”

And then he saw through teary eyes, the soft tissue held before him.

“Let us help then, yeah?” Tae said deeply. It wasn’t like Jungkook was going to decline that offer.

Taehyung wrapped an arm over Jungkook’s shoulders to get more comfortable and then gently placed his tissue-armoured hand over the hybrid’s twitching red nose. Jungkook stiffened as his breathing faltered further by just having the enclosed warmth from Tae’s palm, both arms falling to his lap. An urgent whine crept from his throat as he felt the pressure of the witches fingers on the sinuses either side of his nose. His mouth had fallen open with  soft, panting breaths and he could feel Tae’s arm tightening around him as he gently massaged in silence.

A tight ball of heat had settled in Jungkook’s stomach, gradually working its way into his chest as he was left a physical mess and Taehyung pulled away to switch to a new tissue, deciding that the old one had become useless. Jungkook had been about to complain when he felt a long cooling breath directly hit his nose from the left. His eyes had snapped shut and he had pitched forward so quickly that Taehyung had barely made it time to catch the wet fit of sneezes that had allergic tears trickling down Jungkook’s cheeks.

 Huhe’TSHhh!! ..Hehh’ETCHhew! Eh’TSHhiew!...... …  Heh’ehhhshheww … Heh’eehhhTCHsheww!!

 Instinctively Jungkook had reached up to cover, trapping Tae’s hand in place as he snapped forward with another triple – half stifled as he squished into the steady palm.

“Bless.” Hoseok pressed a hand to the nape of Jungkook’s neck. “Better?”

Jungkook sniffled as Taehyung pulled away, only to have Hoseok press another tissue to his nose.

“Blow for me.”

A flush spread across Jungkook’s cheeks at the request but he did as was asked, taking a deep breath before blowing out with wet muffled burst. Hoseok didn’t flinch away and wiped at the hybrids nose once he’d finished.

Jungkook glanced away to see Taehyung slip a piece of chocolate into his mouth, then the witch met his gaze through dark, heavy lashes.

“Better?” He repeated Hobi’s question.

 Mostly. The itch wasn’t completely gone, but it wasn’t as bad as before. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to brush it aside anymore.

His mouth fell open to begin his explanation only to be met with chocolate flavoured lips. For the first time since that morning Jungkook was able to fully catch the witches scent. A wave of familiarity doused him, urging him into further contentment. He sniffed and leant closer as Tae had gone to move away, pressing his lips to the column of his neck as he breathed in the woodsy scent once more. A rumble vibrated through Taehyung’s throat as he laughed, pulling Jungkook into him as he rolled back into the nest playfully.

“You seem better.” Hoseok murmured with amusement.

“I-“ Jungkook looked up to see Hobi also reaching for the chocolate. “Thank you…It still… its fuzzy.”

“You want us to keep helping you, Kookie?”

Slowly, Jungkook nodded. A heat spread up his neck as Taehyung grinned at him, almost like he’d been waiting for Jungkook to ask all night.

“Can you lean back into me Bun?”

The question was practically rhetorical, Jungkook wasn’t going to be going against anything they asked of him at this point. He glanced over Tae’s shoulder and the elder’s grin slid into a lazy smirk.

“Tilt up.”

Their movie played on in the background, barely being heard over the pounding in Jungkook’s ears paired with his heavy breaths. Hobi held him gently and rubbed his cheek against the tender part of Jungkook’s neck, only increasing his pants a light trickle of pleasure bled through him. Taehyung took his time, dabbing a small section of his wrist with one of the bottles Jungkook had so keenly peered at before twisting a tissue up, ready to get to work. The hybrids nose twitched as he caught the sweet, fruity scent – at first only becoming slightly irritated until Taehyung moved closer. The candlelight hit the elder like a heavenly glow, an angel descending towards him with expression of something fallen rather than graced. He wondered what Hoseok would look like next to him – he wondered what Taehyung saw when he looked at them. From the depth of his gaze, Jungkook could only assume that it was something just as mesmerising as his view…

His senses burned.

Jungkook gasped and felt his eyes flutter shut as Taehyung moved to sit on his lap, his legs overlapping Hobi’s on either side of Jungkook. The witch reached up and pulled lightly at one of his ears and Jungkook moaned as he sniffed deeply, earning himself a lungful of the intoxicatingly sweet scent that had him pitch forward with a sharp ‘H’ehh’nngxch’. A finger settled below his chin and he met Taehyung’s burning eyes and tilted his head back obediently, his breath hitching against the scented wrist of the witch as he carefully inserted the tissue. The tickle that had permanently settled at the back of his nose reared into a dominant existence as Taehyung moved the ‘tool’ around in a calculated manner, while Hoseok took to laying soft kisses along his neck and ears.

Hoseok murmured soft words as he rubbed his thumbs into Jungkook’s lower back, asking how he was or if he wanted more. The bunny couldn’t even formulate a full sentence without his breath stuttering off. God, if he knew this was how his day would have ended he probably wouldn’t have been so annoyed about it in the beginning.  

Tae angled the tissue to reach slightly further in, biting his lip as Jungkook slackened beneath him, but still resulted in nothing more than desperate hitching.

“Angel…” Tae whispered deeply as he pushed the bottle of lotion that he’d opened towards Hobi. “Maybe we should work together on this…”

Hoseok kissed Jungkook’s neck a final time before he emptied some of the oil onto his palm behind the hybrids back. Taehyung returned his attention to Jungkook, dragging the tip of his forefinger lightly around the rims of the hybrids nose before returning the tissue to the next nostril.

Nghh hh hih… … huh.huh ..huh hhh… mmghhm..

Jungkook was going to die of frustration. Truly and entirely. Taehyung was teasing him now. The witch could very easily help him alone. He knew exactly what to do and where to go, and yet he wished to tempt and torture it out of Jungkook. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but damnit… now?

Jungkook gasped as heat scorched his blood. Taehyung had to rest a hand on his shoulder to steady him from slipped forward as Hoseok slipped his hands beneath the bunnies shirt. The dancers fingers glided over his skin like a sculptor, fluidly glazing his skin with the cold lotion. His nose quivered and his chest heaved. Immediately he was crumbling into a sniffling mess, Taehyung had even taken a moment to stop his tempting – although that may have been a new type of torture, letting Jungkook’s breath build. Somewhat desperate, Jungkook reached up to paw at the bridge of his nose only to have Hoseok grab a hold of his wrist, pulling it to join his own trailing the hybrids clenched stomach.

“Poor Kookie.” Taehyung brushed his hand through the youngers hair, tugging it lightly before petting down the length of Jungkook’s ear. “Why can’t you sneeze… hmm?”

“T-hih- teassahh ..snf snf..ah huh hh...”

Almost pitying, Taehyung settled his hand on Jungkook’s cheek, and the hybrids nostrils flared. A single finger ran down the bridge of Jungkook’s nose and his chest burst with an aching heat.

Huh iih eh ehh ehH’HESHI’uh! HEH’ITDZshhh! …Huh.. hh..nmmnmm snf. SNf. … eh ehh’hh ..h he heH…. heh’NGGXTshhheww! H’NGCHh’shuh… snnf

Jungkook panted and sniffled thickly, refusing to open his eyes to see the mess he’d probably made on Taehyung’s arm that had yet to move. One of Hoseok’s hand found its way up Jungkook’s spine, steadily sending chills through his body until the dancer slipped out and massaged at Jungkook’s ears. The bunny snapped forward into another bout of desperate breathy sneezes as his fur became slicked back and oiled as well.

“There you go..” Taehyung murmured lowly as he brought a tissue to the hybrids nose, catching the wet expulsions with a gently grasp – giving soft, prodding massages whenever the younger stuttered off shakily.

Between Taehyung’s pestering and Hoseok’s support and wayward gestures, Jungkook was pretty fucking blissed.

 ..

“You good?” Taehyung asked, pulling the younger into his embrace once Hoseok had excused himself to the bathroom.

“Mmmm. Stuffy… but good.” Jungkook ran his wrist under his nose, only to prompt a congested sneeze into his lap twice more.

Even after the lengthy shower that they’d had, Jungkook still couldn’t breathe out of his nose but it wasn’t exactly surprising. Taehyung had continued his teasing for almost an hour before deciding he’d done a decent job of satisfying what Jungkook needed. It had been great, Jungkook couldn’t remember the last time Taehyung had played this way, the last couple times that he’d asked for help had been simple and somewhat time restrained. And having both his boyfriends at his disposal had been the topping of it all.  

He closed his eyes and lent his head back onto Tae’s chest while the elder started to hum a soft tune that had a gradually serenity flooding into Jungkook’s body, almost encouraging the bunny to slip into sleep. He had been teetering on the edge of darkness when he heard the sound of Hoseok’s light footsteps re-enter the room.

  “Oh… is he asleep?”

“No,” Taehyung answered just as softly as Hobi had asked. “Not yet anyway..”

“Okay… Okay, I have to do something.” Hoseok said, oddly serious.

 Jungkook forced his eyes open again to see the usually spriteful dancer shuffling awkwardly in the dim candlelight, his thick jacket grasped tightly in his hands. Jungkook tried to swallow his yawn, failing to a second one, before clearing his throat with a light cough.  

  “You’re … leaving?” Jungkook frowned, his ears drooping low at the mere thought of not having both of his boyfriends near him.

“No!” Hoseok moved to his knees directly in front of the pair. His jacket falling to the ground with a thud. “I need to do something with you two.. or say something rather… and I hope you.. I don’t know.. like it? I guess?”

“Okay then..” Taehyung set his chin lazily on top of Jungkook’s head, giving Hobi a small reassuring smile. “I’m pretty sure we agreed no gifts, but if you need too…”

“I do.” Hoseok licked his lips, taking a shaky breath. For a moment the only sound in the room was Jungkook’s soft sniffles that he tried to muffle into his sleeve. Another breath, deeper and steadier this time. “I love you… both of you, so much I can’t even comprehend it. How did I end up at this point? The closeted human kid ending up in a relationship as comfortable and loving as this with not one, but two heart throbbingly precious men whose souls are probably the most kind and fearless and open that I will ever meet… I got so lucky.. I can’t imagine not seeing you every day, or not waking up to a full bed, or not watching you two bicker over food, or kissing you after a long day, or hearing your completely bizarre daily adventures – especially you Tae, I want to know every time you accidentally set something on fire or make potions combust in their jars –“

“it was two times!”

“My point being,” Hoseok laughed. “That I want to be in your lives for the rest of mine. I know I probably could have planned this better, but I suppose everything about us was a bit spontaneous…” he reached into the inner pockets of his jacket and retrieved two velvet boxes in each fist. “I know you both would do this differently, given the obvious differences, but I felt like this was the right time for me… we don’t need to like do anything straight away or anything I just-“

Jungkook reached out to touch Hoseok’s leg, halting the mans speech. “You’re rambling Sunshine.”

Hoseok bit at his bottom lip as he saw the faint confusion tinted in the bunnies furrowed brows and pursed lips, yet Taehyung was beaming with glistening eyes, his gaze never leaving Hoseok’s face.

“I- uh… here.” He handed the emerald box to Taehyung, who seemed to be trying not to shed any surprised tears, then pushed the crimson box into Jungkook’s palm. The hybrid’s confused expression rapidly turning into one of awe. “It’s not a unique sigil, or a mating mark, but this is the only way I can make a physical bond. I’ve thought about this for so long and I just…..I… yeah.. ..m-marry me?”

“Ma-Marry?” Jungkook blinked widely, while Taehyung squeezed the hybrid tightly with a huge boxy grin.

“As if we’d ever say no to you?” Taehyung giggled, the candlelight doing a good job at hiding the flush that had crept to his cheeks.

“Marry?” Jungkook repeated, almost hollowly.

Hoseok swallowed hard at the what could be about to happen. God, had this been a mistake? “You don’t need to say yes Bun, I just.. this is something I needed to ask. I just wanted us.. I just want to be bound to you more than just words. I want people to see that you’re mine, but it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

Taehyung peered down at the bunny questionably then opened his box. The ring was a thick simple band of white, laced with gold intricate designs of engraved roses and small rose quartz embedded in a circle throughout the centre. He didn’t stop the tears from falling then. Just nodded while biting down on his lip. Jungkook turned to see the ring, then looked down at his own box with his mouth agape.

“You.. You want to marry me?” Jungkook spoke softly. “I just spent the last hour and a half sneezing myself into the next plain of reality, and you choose now to ask this?” The hybrid gave a choked laugh, opening his box to see a black ring that was identical to Tae’s in design. Simple and yet so beautiful.  “Oh my god Jung Hoseok. You have the worst timing. I love you so much.”

Hoseok sucked in a tight breath and shifted to sit beside the pair. “Is that a yes?”

Jungkook started laughing again, sniffling back his tears. “Are you going to put these on us?”

Hobi grinned so widely it hurt. His blood danced and his heart screamed as both of his boyfriends leant into him, letting him slide their rings on.

“Ohhh  this is going to start a riot at work.” Taehyung teased happily. The giddiness in his voice only increasing as time passed.

“Good those girls can finally leave you alone.” Hobi kissed Tae’s shoulder as he intertwined his fingers with Jungkook’s. the ring pleasantly cool against his skin.

“To think I wasn’t looking forward to this day.” Jungkook mumbled, leaning back into both of his boyfriends arms.. “Best Disaster Day of my life

[kikilefangirl]

The Witch Who Won’t Part 4

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

(Word Count: 2064)

You woke up to a flood of texts, calls, and voicemails. Most were from your cousin, but a few came from Marcel. Tossing your phone on the other side of the couch, you rubbed your temple. You hadn’t even made it to your bed last night. Your puff was matted and misshapen.

You rubbed your eyes and stood up. A pounding headache and nausea made you keel over and do a mad dash to your trash can. You yakked up your dinner. After you brushed your teeth, you seized up.

The presence of an Original. Bounding from your bathroom to your front door, you flung it open. You don’t know why you expected Klaus. You had burned that bridge, indefinitely.

Elijah stood at your door offering a handkerchief. You cocked your head to the side and clicked your tongue.

“Whatever you want, I’m not interested.” You spat out.

Thinking back to the night before, you crossed your arms. The reality that Klaus had kissed you, and that he did it to handicap you was too much. Now his brother was at your door too.

“Y/N, would you please invite me in?” Elijah asked. His critical gaze had something else behind it, true concern.

You knew it wasn’t for you. Originals were only truly worried about other Originals. Klaus.

“I imagine Niklaus has upset you. I do apologize on his behalf, he has a, uh, talent for such things.” He said.

Elijah still had his hand out, still offering the handkerchief. You stepped closer, and took it. You wiped your mouth with it and set it on the counter.

“Come in.”

You surprised yourself. The thought of an Original having permanent access to your home made your stomach turn, but this time it was unavoidable. Elijah stepped through the threshold and unfastened his suit jacket as he sat down at the table.

You watched him, cautiously. Elijah wasn’t Klaus. You knew better than to make assumptions about him, certain concessions simply would not be granted.

“I beg you to consider forgiveness. I fear Niklaus requires it.” He replied. Elijah ran a hand across his bottom lip.

“He did what he wanted and now he’s dealing with the consequences.” You were firm.

Elijah scoffed and leaned back in the chair. You didn’t back down. You couldn’t. You sucked in a breath.

“Esther has him,” He ran a finger along the table, his daylight ring more prominent than before, “Aided by our brothers Kol and Finn, my mother has stood against Niklaus.”

Elijah began tapping his fingers. He pulled the corners of his mouth back with thinly veiled contempt. Esther was the original witch. You had learned your history and now it was sitting in your living room.

Esther was the woman who hid Klaus’s true identity, and when it was revealed, bound it from him for a thousand years. The man he had become––the creature that could kiss you one second and shackle you the next was partly her doing.

“She will ruin him. Again. She’ll ruin him again.” Elijah hissed.

On the surface, he appeared perfectly composed. Elijah was the pristine elder brother—the eldest due to Finn’s absence—constantly working for his siblings’ happiness. Klaus too, had his own persona to hold onto as well.

But the truth underneath remained: Where Elijah was cool determination, Klaus was wilder, freer.

“Pass me that grimoire. I’ll see what I can do.”

After a millennia of separation, you knew Elijah was right. Klaus was not going to recover the little bits of him he had left. He had a daughter out in the world who needed him.

“Call Rebekah. She should be here, too. And Vincent.” You said.

Turning on your heel you head down the hall toward the bathroom. Just because you were going to spend your whole day dealing with Originals, your basics weren’t going by the wayside.

                                                         …

Nothing in Gammy’s grimoire could have prepared you for the Original Witch or what she had reduced Klaus to, either.

Esther was in the body of a witch you knew. You flared your nostrils. Dead witches taking the bodies of living ones always made you upset.

“We came here for Klaus.” You announced.

She stepped away from her herbs, though you couldn’t see which ones. Even in another body, Esther was full of the kind of grace and danger you had previously seen with Klaus.

“I am afraid my son is unavailable.” She replied. Her eyes darted between you and Elijah, and even he was stifled by her presence.

“Mother, release Niklaus to us. Immediately.” He said.

“In your custody you and your siblings, especially Niklaus, have been a blight on this earth. You leave nothing but blood and death behind you. I will not be idle anymore.” She let out.

You could feel her anger, and oddly enough her love for her children. Esther was probably a good mother once, but her protectiveness ruined them and her.

You concentrated on Klaus’s familiar aura, drawing it closer and closer to you. Esther must have noticed because her eyes were trained on you.

“My, my, you are powerful indeed. And in love. Nevertheless, the strength in you does not wish to oppose me, nor I you.” She offered. While she spoke you curled your hand and twisted.

The stone wall behind her slid open, revealing a chained Klaus. The bitter part of you that enjoyed seeing him chained after what he did to you was quickly overpowered by a wave of worry. His golden irises burned with rage and hatred even as subdued as he was.

“If you truly loved my son, you would want him to be free of his curse. A pretty young witch like you would want children of your own and a husband capable of loving you without the threat of violence all around you!” Esther continued.

For a split second you hesitated. You did want that and maybe with him. But Esther knew him as a child, and longed for that child. You met the monster first, and loved him anyway. Whatever that made you definitely wasn’t normal.

“You let a man believe the one child he saw true potential in, the one child knew he could mold in his image, was his. And Mikael hated him for it.” You admitted.

Saying the words out loud made Esther pause in shock. Mikael’s name and his function in her life had the same effect on her as it did Klaus. Taking advantage of her vulnerability, you unleashed the brunt of your magic.

Elijah’s expression was cold and unflinching. He knew it was true just the same as you did. Esther may have the title of the Original Witch, but she thrived off the shared power of all witches. Dead and alive. You could draw on them, too. You thought of Vincent, of Gammy and beyond.

Esther flew through the air and slammed against the wall. Elijah immediately went to Klaus, breaking the chains that held him.

Before he was completely free, Esther countered. Her strength coupled with your overexertion made you fall to your knees in pain. You could feel her magic weighing you down. Something wet dripped from your nose. Blood.

You weren’t backing down from her. You felt a tugging in your gut and threw your head back. Esther wasn’t going to stop you from taking Klaus. You called on your ancestors and their power just as she did, with renewed focus. Wind whipped around you, dust swirled at your feet. The jars of herbs and dark objects shook and some shattered to the ground. Letting out a guttural cry, raw power radiated from you and it pulsed through the room and and the entire French Quarter.

You collapsed with exhaustion, your body landing on the hard floor. You were fading fast, you could barely keep your eyes open. As your vision blurred you could see Klaus speeding toward Esther. The chains were still on him, but the ends had been broken off.

Holding a thousand lifetimes of pain and betrayal, Klaus snapped his mother’s neck and she went limp in his arms.

You smiled, as you had done your part. Cold hands were the last thing you remembered before everything went black.

                                                        …

You woke up in a large bed in the Mikaelson compound, completely alone.

You were wearing your pajamas from home. You stepped on the floor barefoot, flinching at the cold.

“Good evening, Y/N. I must say we were beginning to worry.”

Elijah. He offered you his arm and you took it. Your legs still felt like jelly. He led you to another empty room, stopping at the threshold.

“Niklaus, do not be rude to our guest. She did save our lives.” Elijah called out. So this was Klaus’s room.

He did not immediately appear. Preparing yourself, you let go of Elijah and stumbled into the room. You made it to a stool. Nearby were beautiful paintings and three full blood bags. As you admired the artwork, Elijah took his leave. As soon as he did, Klaus finally appeared.

“Careful, love. I did that one in 1823, it’s fragile.” His tone was his usual charming self, but his sunken in eyes, and restricted movements told the story.

“Here.” You slid a blood bag over to Klaus.

He poured it into a glass, but he made no moves to drink it. He swirled the liquid, squeezing so hard on the glass it broke in his hand.

You jumped, but Klaus wasn’t fazed. Instead he was staring at a spot on the floor, expressionless. He sat slack jawed and deflated. He was none of the wild hybrid—whether he was angry or vindictive or proud or jealous.

The man across from you was nothing at all.

“Klaus. You need to drink.” You whispered.

There was something fragile about him you had only seen glimpses of. Klaus always fell back on his default, but this was different.

“Klaus!” You boomed, bolting upright so fast your chair fell to the ground.

You stalked up to Klaus with fear as an afterthought. He was beginning to have that effect on you, which was probably for the worst. You wrapped your hands around his neck and jaw. He wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Esther was right to call you a monster. She was wrong to say that was all you were. Look at me, Klaus.” You pleaded.

You were nose to nose now, and once you had his eyes on yours you wasted no time.

“Klaus! She was wrong! Esther was wrong. You have a daughter who will always love her daddy. Your siblings won’t turn away from you. I won’t, either.” You said desperately.

Esther was a woman whose back was against the wall and Klaus was her secret keeper, her ultimate secret keeper. And he, unlike Mikael’s children, was hers to isolate, a punishment Klaus could never bear from his mother.

You sucked in a breath, and bore your neck out for him.

“Drink.”

The quick pain as the hybrid’s fangs pierced your neck was followed by pure euphoria. You could feel him take every drop of blood that oozed out. Klaus’ arms wrapped around you, pulling you onto his lap. It was as if you two were the only two in the world, and you reveled in it.

Once you began to get light headed, Klaus retracted his fangs and licked the wound. His amber eyes burned with an intensity that made you squirm at how close you were to each other. You were hyper aware of his body and your own.

Klaus smirked at your newfound discomfort and kissed you full on. You could taste traces of an iron tang on his tongue, but that didn’t stop you. You kissed him back and your heart was heavy with all the emotion and stress from the day before. He leaned into you, taking care to hold you tighter. It was the reassurance you needed. You broke away from the kiss to breathe, and you drank each other in.

Klaus wasn’t one to say thank you, and you didn’t need it. You flashed him a show stopping smile. You didn’t know what would come from your actions.

All you knew was that you had fallen for this man; you truly and wholeheartedly loved Klaus Mikaelson, and he, in his own way, loved you, too.

END

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, kidnapping, torture (not the gory kind), angst, buried trauma.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: You have a woman that seriously hurt you, at your mercy, and you’re struggling with how far to take it. Meanwhile, Marcus realises he’s going to have to save you from yourself, if he can find you in time.

Chapter 43

  You waited for her to wake up for almost thirty minutes, and that was after you’d taken her to the abandoned warehouse, and secured her to a solid metal post that used to connect the floor to the ceiling. You didn’t know exactly what kind of tranquilizer Tech had used, but it sure was potent.   Her feet were still tied together and you’d placed her on her knees with her back to the post. Her arms were strung up above her head on either side of the post, and secured individually, to ensure she couldn’t use either hand to untie the other.   Her head hung low between her shoulders and her body seemed completely limp. If not for her slow and even breathing, you’d have thought she was already dead.

***

  After your phone had gone to voicemail for the third time, Marcus lost it.   He’d been working on dismantling the containers, no longer needed, while he waited for Aidan to finish his task, and for you to call him. He didn’t do well with idle hands when he was worried about something, and there was so much at stake right now.   Then his phone had beeped, and as he’d read the message, his blood had turned to ice. He’d immediately tried calling you back, but he was routed straight to your recorded voice declaring that you were indisposed at the moment.   Desperate to believe that you wouldn’t do this, that you weren’t cruel enough to do what his mind was telling him were the only reasons you would have taken off with the believed head of the entire organisation you were trying to bring down, he tried again.   The third time was just dumb, but he really was losing it.   He ran back to Tech.

  “I need you to track my wife, right now! Her phone, car, fucking watch – anything!”

  “What? Why? What’s going on?”

  “She took off with Kane, we have to find her before she does something she can’t come back from.”

  “She wouldn’t do that, Marcus. She started all of this because she wants the pain and deaths to stop. She’s a good person.”

  “Yes, she is. But Kane very nearly killed our baby, and as much as I hope that she’s strong enough to resist, I know that the mother in her is the most powerful part of her, and she’s gonna wanna hurt Kane. Even if she doesn’t kill her, she might still torture her, and I can’t let her do that. It would never stop haunting her, specifically because she is a good person. Please, Tech.”

  “Okay, okay. Let me see what I can find.”

  Marcus was beside himself with worry, and his mind was grasping at anything it could to distract itself, while there was nothing he could do but wait.

  “Where are we with the operation?”

  Tech answered him at the same time as he typed impossibly fast on his laptop, and various windows were popping up and disappearing on the screen.

  “Only six more cities left to confirm completion. All the others have been successful.”

  “I’ll check on the kid.”

  He walked over to where Aidan sat on the same spot in the grass. The boy was pale and bathing in cold sweat, breathing hard and visibly trembling with the effort it had taken out of him. With so few locations left, he had been able to let go of most of the birds, but he was exhausted and still had hundreds of birds left to direct for a while yet.   Marcus knew that Aidan’s fate mattered to you, and it did to him as well, so he sat down next to him, and put his arm over the kid’s shoulders. He just wanted to convey that he was there and that he cared, and Aidan seemed to feel it, because his discomfort lessened a bit.

  “I found the car!”

  Tech’s voice reached him from across the field, and he got up, but not before whispering ‘hang in there, kid’ to the boy. Then he sprinted back to his friend’s station.

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t know what the hell she did with her phone, but I can’t see it at all. I had to break into her car’s emergency alert system, and trick it into believing there’d been an accident, to get it to reveal the coordinates. It’s parked on a street on the edge of a warehouse district, but she could be in any one of a hundred different abandoned structures on that lot.”

  “Just send me those coordinates, I’ll find her.”

  ***

  When she finally did wake up, you felt oddly calm. As though something inside you relished the thought that she was about to wake up to a real-life nightmare. Somewhere deep inside, you knew that you should be disgusted with yourself for reacting like that, but your hatred towards this woman was clouding your mind, and darkening your heart. But just knowing that wasn’t enough to make you wanna stop.    Her head twitched first, and then her hands, as she tried to move against her restraints. When she realised that she was unable to, she tried to lift her head, but she was still groggy, and her nerves weren’t responding normally, resulting in a clumsy few bobs of her head before she managed to draw it back to rest against the post.   She was still too groggy to speak, but you saw the recognition in her eyes when they fell on you, and there was surprise in there as well, which pleased you more than it should have.

  “Hi. I’d say it’s good to see you, Emily, but it just isn’t. I don’t even know what to say to you yet. I’ve been sitting here for half an hour thinking about what I wanna say… or just do, to you, and I still don’t know. But we have time. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

  “You… have no.. idea… what… you’re doing.”

  “And why is that? Because you experiment on people against their will, and have no problems with being complicit to mass-murder, if not committing it yourself? Or is it because you’re the leader of a covert organisation of hundreds of agents that do all of that on your behest?”

  She was regaining control of her body, and you could see the contempt in her face as it dawned on her just how much you’d already figured out.

  “How?”

  Her tone was demanding and arrogant, and as the façade of the benign doctor fell away, you didn’t even recognise her face anymore.

  “You told me. Through my subconscious. Word of advice: if you’re gonna give people powers, having no idea what they might turn out to be, don’t show them your fucking face.”

  “Those memories... were removed. The super who took them… he never fails.”

  “He left behind just enough that my powers could recreate a single image for me. But that was enough.”

  “Well, congratulations, you figured it out. You’ll never stop us; our organisation has grown exponentially.”

  “The Society of Inferiority Complex, yeah, we know.”

  “How mature…”

  “An acronym that spelled SIC (sick) was just too appropriate to pass up.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you call us. Before long, you’ll be introduced into a world where everyone is just as powerful as you. You won’t be so smug then.”

  You got up from the crate you’d been sitting on, and stepped right up to her so you could squat down and face her at eye-level, mere inches away from her.

  “Tonight, hundreds of our operatives have kidnapped hundreds of yours, just like I did with you. We’ve been monitoring your activities for months, mapping your movements, documenting your labs and temporary offices all over the world. You never even knew how many supers live covert lives in today’s society, did you? Well, we found hundreds of them, and after hearing what you did to me, and to those children, they all volunteered to help us. Your own actions created an army of superpowered people hellbent on destroying you. Did you really think you’d be able to beat us? All you’ve done is unite us.”

  “Aren’t you clever, little Rainbow. But, tell me… If you’re such a good girl – why’d you bring me out here? All alone. Where no one can hear us.”

  You pulled back just a few inches, but her question only managed to wake all the anger inside you back to roaring life. If she really wanted to know the answer, you’d happily show her.

  “Because you tried to kill my baby.”

  You dropped all pretence, and allowed your powers to flare freely. The concrete under your feet snapped and cracked, sending long trailing crevices through the floor. Time and erosion had created flaws from underneath, that meant that large sections dropped several inches in some places, sending thunderous rumbles through the whole area. But you didn’t care.   Ordinarily, your mind automatically shielded anything living, standing in your vicinity, when you flooded this dimension with the denser energy of the others that you had access to. Otherwise, you’d destroy every living cell around you by forcibly compressing them until they were crushed. And, ordinarily, that wasn’t something you wanted to be responsible for.   But not this time.   You merely sat there, hands clenched into fists, staring at her, seeing only those eyes that had looked at you with such fondness while you worked with her. Those eyes that had fooled you so completely. You wanted to rip them out of her head.

  “Good show. But we both know you don’t have what it takes to…”

  Your stillness was an illusion. You were slowly gathering an increasing amount of energy into the air around her, and as the space got more and more crowded, her whole body was slowly being crushed.   She fell silent mid-sentence when she realised that your stare was in no way harmless, and a minute later, the first scream escaped her.

***

  The car was unlocked when Marcus got to it. The keys were still in the ignition, and on the front passenger-seat he found a contorted piece of metal and plastic and glass that had probably been your phone. All the materials had melded together as you’d forced them to compact more than they were actually structurally able to.   That was a bad sign, if he’d ever seen one.   There was nothing else in or around the car that could indicate which way you’d taken your prisoner, and the odds that you’d have stayed close enough to be able to hear him if he shouted for you from there, were non-existent.   Using his current, he tried to sense your energy, and was almost startled at how strong a trail he discovered. But, of course, he should’ve known that you’d use your ghost hands to move Kane, to prevent leaving marks on the ground, as well as make it easier for yourself.   He started following the signature of your powers, so familiar to him by now, and it led him into the very heart of the labyrinth of old run-down buildings and factories.   But when he got to a certain point, the energy suddenly quadrupled, snaking off in four different directions.

  “Oh, for god’s sake, woman… Give me a chance, at least.”

  A terrifyingly loud rumbling, accompanied by what very well could’ve been an earthquake, but wasn’t, came from his left, and without hesitating he ran towards it.   The ground was split open and uneven and half-collapsed buildings lined the roads that he followed to get to you. But he still had to run for hundreds of yards until he reached the structure that it seemed to be coming from, based on the directions of the cracks under his feet.   Realising how far you’d allowed your energy to reach, he was once again amazed at just how powerful you were, but also petrified that it might mean he was already too late.   As he made his way inside the lightly trembling warehouse, he heard blood-curdling screams coming from somewhere inside, and his heart fell. But if she was screaming, she was still alive, which meant he still had time.   When he got to the right place, it was like walking into a nightmare.   There was no ceiling above you and no lights were working, leaving the room basking in nothing but the pale and ghostly moonlight. You’d somehow twisted the whole room so that nothing was straight anymore. Posts and beams and even the walls, were all bent or curved or twisted around themselves or something else. The ground had risen in some places, and fallen in others.   It felt like he was walking into a physical representation of what your mind looked like right now. And in a way, he supposed it was.   Kane was still alive, but whatever you were doing to her was painful to the extent that she was shaking uncontrollably against her restraints, pleading like a child for you to stop, in between fits of vomiting and convulsing.   And you were so calm. So viciously calm it was heart-breaking to him. You just sat in front of her, one knee resting on the ground, the other under your elbow, watching her as though you were a cliff and she was the ocean, thrashing against you with all her might, but unable to move your solid frame even a single inch.   If he hadn’t known how much this was actually hurting you, he might’ve found it fascinating. But he knew you so well that all he could see, was his beloved wife being destroyed.

***

  “Hermosa.”

  His voice came to you like a butterfly against a hurricane. Like soft whispers carried on those wings, so faint, but still able to drown out that howling wind in your ears.   Your eyes automatically turned to find his, and the pain that was already overwhelming your heart, seemed to double.   This wasn’t who you were, you knew that. Every fibre of your being knew that, but you’d forced them into silence with your anger. Used your pain as a shield against all those voices telling you to stop.   But Marcus… seeing him look at you with that much fear…   Not the fears you’d seen before, when he’d thought he was losing you, or when you were injured or being threatened, or the fear that you wouldn’t love him anymore after he walked away from you.   No, this time he wasn’t afraid for you – he was afraid of you. Of just what you were capable of, how far you were willing to go, how much darkness you were willing to let into your heart to try and be free of the pain that festered in there.   Your powers were draining you fast. You’d made no attempt to hold them back at all, and if you stopped now, all that exhaustion would come crashing over you, and you’d be unable to finish what you’d started.   But what had you started? What was it you were hoping to achieve here? You’d wanted to hear her scream, and you had. You’d wanted to hurt her like she hurt you, and you had. But did you want her to die? Were you willing to become a murderer just so that you didn’t have to see the falseness of her face ever again?   Confused, but no less angry, you forced your gaze away from your husband, and refocused on Kane, pulling even more energy out to thicken around her until one of her shoulders was pushed out of alignment with the amount of force bearing down on her.   The harsh popping sound was loud enough to reach Marcus’ ears, and her resulting scream made him close the distance between you, while he started begging you to stop.

  “Please… this is wrong, you know that, mi amor.”

  “You know, I remember thinking that if there had just been someone there to stop my torturer, I could’ve been spared so much pain and fear. And then I found out someone was there, but she did nothing to help me. She just watched and enjoyed the show. So, why should I treat her any better? Why should she be spared that pain?”

  Your energy already filled the room, and half the damned district, so when the images started appearing, they didn’t just show up around you, they flooded the whole area. Every memory you had of every moment that had hurt you, throughout your whole life.   There were hundreds of them.

  “The tears I’ve shed could build a lake. Tell me what I’ve done to deserve that. How could anyone do anything bad enough to deserve all of this?”

  “You’ve done nothing wrong, hermosa. Life just doesn’t work like that.”

  “Then I should at least get to avenge myself!”

  Her other shoulder popped, and she squealed and wailed until her voice gave up and she just sobbed instead.   Marcus moved even closer, just a few yards away from you now.

  “You should. You should get to avenge all the terrible things that have been done to you, but you never can. All you can do, is hurt yourself instead. I know you’re forcing yourself not to feel it right now, but this hurts you. You want it to feel good, to make you feel better, but it won’t, because you’re a good person. You are a good person, hermosa. That’s why I married you, that’s why you’re carrying my child, and that’s why my daughter loves you.”

  Missy. Fuck. Why’d he have to mention her?

  “Please, sweetheart. Don’t make me watch you destroy yourself. I already lost one wife… I need you to let me keep you.”

  His voice was so frail by the end of that sentence that you feared a mere breath might break it apart. And yet, his words held so much power. They forced their way under your skin, cooling your blood and pushing the anger out.   But the pain was still just as strong.   Desperate to get rid of it, to be free of everything that haunted you, you collapsed on the ground, and enormous quantities of your sparkling dust poured out of you, flooding the room in every direction, flowing unhindered through all that energy that you’d pumped into it.   The images were still there, snapshots of the worst moments of your life, the one’s that caused you more pain than you could ever voice, and you wished that you could make them solid. That you could pull them out of yourself completely and leave them behind in that room.   The dust pulled the images apart, turning them into three-dimensional representations of themselves, while you watched, actually seeing the magic happen for the first time.   When the sculptures were finished, they solidified, just like before.   A single tear escaped your left eye as you saw your very worst memories turned into some sort of bizarre museum-exhibit all around you. It rolled swiftly down your cheek, and with the way you were sitting, it should’ve hit the top of your left hand, holding you up from the ground. But it never landed.   Instead, it hovered mid-air for a few seconds, before splitting into dozens of smaller drops, that each flew away to one of the sculptures. And as the drops made contact with them, the sculptures turned to stone. Transparent, and still sparkling in every colour on the spectrum, but unmistakably more solid than just the dust.   Once again, your powers had tried to give you what you asked for, what you needed the most. If only the memories could’ve been trapped inside those statues as well. If only you actually could get up, walk away and leave them behind forever.   Strong arms encircled you as Marcus pulled you off the ground and into his chest, and you finally gave in. Now that you allowed yourself to feel it, you were completely spent. You wanted to say something to him, but he didn’t need an explanation, he understood everything, you knew that.

  “Marcus… I’m sorry…”

  He just kissed your forehead and held you closer, but if he said anything, you passed out before you could hear what it was.

Author’s Note: As always, I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@allmyspideys​​ @blueeyesatnight​ @hrk-fic-recs​ @strawberryperegrine​ @lucrezia-thoughts​ @computeringturtle​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @giselatropicana​ @ayamenimthiriel

[ranmanjuu]

—gen z mc with uesugi-takeda + misc. forces

ahh, i’m so glad people liked my gen z oda hcs! lol it’s usually pretty slow from my writing blog experiences until now, but i’m rlly happy! i was planning to do u-t and the others but then i decided to stop at oda and continue another day. thx for the asks tho! and yeah, i do take requests but it’s more of a pasttime, since this whole blog is just my stupid ideas written out and shared out there.

also someone said that a gen z mc could be old enough to romance the warlords, like, early twenties. and yes, very fair if u wanna romance ur mans with memes and existentialism go for it!! i just think it adds more to the comedy side of this child they have to babysit, while not fearing death or any consequences from their dumb of Ass decisions. someone who fears no death and armed with no braincells is a fool, but a Child who fears no death and armed with no braincells is also a fool, but more bizzare and has That Vibe y’know

@niphredil-14​ and @arthotsglasses​

tw: s*icidal, violent jokes treated in a light manner

also spoilers to some things of their characters

—kenshin:

who is this,, , sassy lost child??

he first saw you prepared to throw hands with ronins who were being Elite Dickheads. ofc, armed with nothing compared to the sworded-adults, he had to interfere.

no matter how cold he treated you, masking his secret !!!-like concern, you seemed so unfazed through it. you still interacted with him like normal,,,,, why?? do you want a death wish?

and each time he threatened you with,, anything, you responded with, “the only one who gets to hurt & kill me, is ME”

...... what?

he’s convinced you’re the biggest fool of a person. and he’d be right but even so, he has a weirdly strong need to protect you as you two got closer. you’re often with sasuke, so it’s harder to avoid you.

even with all the Horrible jokes you make on a daily basis, if your passionate side with everyone having equal rights of being treated as human, for him it shows a side of you that makes you seem precious and pure and kind hearted.

and the overprotective side increases.

which is, ,, a bit problematic sometimes cause you have the tendency to target and piss off anyone in a 10 meter range by just one (1) sassy comment, along with your lack of impulse control and blurting out everything in your mind. it’s made you a lot of short enemies in the sengoku period, and kenshin would always be ready to slice them down behind you.

sasuke has to tame him down with his Masters degree in kenshin-wrangling.

at banquets, kenshin would often have you beside him. if you’re too young for sake do age for drinking exist in sengoku? probably not. it’s more of sasuke advising for him to not give you alcoholic drinks he’ll have you pouring for him or just munching away at pickled plums or food.

—shingen:

(ngl i kinda had a hard time with this since it’s erasing a big part of his overall character,,, flirting)

once he heard the news that oda had taken in somone as young as you during honno-ji,, ,,,he’s in a very “how dare that demon >>:( taking such a pure soul,....”

and when you’re taken to kasugayama as a captive, you’re,,, surprisingly very calm and whelmed. you don’t have much sign of fear or anxiety in your overall demeanor meanwhile you’re busy dissociating and spacing out to feel those

you actually don’t seem to hate your captor. but shingen isn’t sure if your ‘fingerguns’ is a good thing or not cause it depicts you pointing guns @ him,, (dw is good shingen)

while yes being held hostage—no matter how good you’re being treated—isn’t ideal and kinda not very cash money, you consider shingen v chill. man has a kindheart!! “i diagnose you with good vibes.”

if he ever sees your righteous side, as everyone else, he’ll deeply admire you. he himself is someone who believes in such as well. and hearing the circumstances in the modern world regarding those things (blm, etc.) his heart truly does go out for you. he feels sympathy for such a young person like you having to take action

also your dirty humor around him, echigo’s player, kind of makes him question where and how you learnt it

and,, his illness.

through getting straight to the point and not falling for it each time he changes subject/dodges the question, you managed to get to the bottom of his illness. shingen himself thinks it’s not something you have to burden with knowing—you’re so, so young.

but that doesn’t matter to you. the world’s given you such a shit time, you’re mature enough to understand the situation at least.

and as he finishes his explanation, all there was is silence. it felt wrong to say any of your usual quips,, so all you did was slowly came there and hugged him.

that was more than what he’d ask for.

—sasuke:

oh hell yeah

you are in your element with him. the chillest guy to talk to, and probably the first one you’re the closest to

your phone was dead after like 2 days of use, and you were miserable while hideyoshi, like a typical parent, told you to go outside and into town. sensing your bad mood, sasuke asked what’s up. you deadpanned, “my phone game ended and now i’m ready to commit not breath.” you oslemnly look out in the bustling streets and clutched your fist like an Anime Protagonist, “those boomer memes were right all along... i am absolutely Miserable and Useless(^TM) without it.”

in response, you could’ve sworn he did the Anime Glasses thing as well, “then we at team Moderately Awesome Sengoku Ninja are happy to announce the launch of a DIY phone charger, made with the electricity from a fruit and the main functionality of a solar panel. and has more durability than samsung’s.”

there were Stars in your eyes now. with a big grin, you thank him, “i’d die for you, sasuke.”

“then perish.” he said with a blank look. (yukimura, in the bg: ???!!!??!??!?)

the next day he consentually breaks in through the ceiling and gives you the weird contraption. you’re now saved, soul-wise.

the memes start coming and they don’t stop coming from the two of you. in any situation. whether it’d be at a teahouse, or at a battlefield that can determine your life and death.

and you can have discussions about current world events, or the past ones, with him and he’d understand completely what you’re talking about. it’s those rare nights when you’ve been thinking and have a deep conversation with him in his room, and as an adult, it makes for interesting results as well.

the others are endlessly confused, but you’re both so unapologetically yourselves.

and he’s super protective if the circumstances are tough. he feels bad for dragging another person in the sengoku with him—much less when they’re so young like you.

if you’re enough of a lil shit, once you’re taken into kasugayama, in the nights where you can’t sleep because brain at what would be 3 am, you’d probably trudge over to his room and wake him up to tell him what kind of mind-blowing shit you realized.

—yukimura:

when he saved you from falling to your death, your reaction already set off weird Vibes inside him. what do you mean, “you stopped me from fleeing this fleeting world by the sweet embrace of death” ?!?!?! are you crazy?? yes

he doesn’t waste time getting blunt with you at all either.

once he goes into azuchi as a merchant, he silently observes you talking to sasuke for a bit. what’s with your weird language?? and crude humor???? never in his life has he met someone in your age act like that wtf

even so, he still operates on the basis of ‘‘if sasuke trusts you, i trust you’’, no matter how utterly concerned you make him feel

you have a dirtier mind than him! unsurprisingly. along with everyone else, you often tease the poor soul, a nd you’d gladly tell him what the innuendoes mean ( 69, etc.) and maybe sprinkle in some gay jokes in there

and why do you keep mentioning this “bromance between him and sasuke” ?? what us,,, a bromance????? and why is sasuke in it??

he takes you out to teahouses to eat chestnut dumplings and other desserts with you. you always seem to target the one he doesn’t like the most and have a bit of banter

your relationship is built on banter but what’s different rlly

he treats you much more maturely than other people your age. as in, he doesn’t pull back his punches in words most of the time. you don’t seem to around him also, it looks like.

and, he’s also very protective of you. he regards you as his little sibling, as rat as you may be. and he does care about you—he might just be a bit unwilling to say it

—yoshimoto:

you think he’s very chill, if a bit unique but who were you to judge. and he is, if you ever meet him in echigo or even azuchi

his big liking to art and something of apathy to people is osmething you can respect. there’s something about that kind of Vibe that you find oddly a mood.

and oh boy oh boy you wasted no time pulling up your phone and showing images of what art is in the future. whether it’d be a screenshot of anime, fanart, aesthetic-like ones, palette-themed—the whole shabang. 

and, somehow, you were left ranting to him  about how some artists in the future get it so shitty for theft, reposting, not crediting, the list goes on (please be a decent human being to artist, sincerely the author) and he can’t help but just listen in silence and kind of thinking about how you’re so passionate about the Struggles of artists. and it isn’t something he sees often in the sengoku era—where war rules most things.

and he does find art from the modern times interesting, how they’re so different and vast in styles. and not only that, it’s not like the future only has one major style like then, each hand can draw such different pictures and still have beauty in each. he appreciates and admires that.

and he does tell you his thoughts ^ while you give your own insight. it’s so fascinating to see someone like you having strong opinions on this.

because, well, rn art is a big thing in our lives as we’re stuck inside. a part of entertainment is looking at any media of art—and he finds his view of art and yours quite the same. you two came from a time of turmoil (one moreso than the other) but still think art isn’t exactly irrelevant just because it isn’t a cure to diseases or the Ultimate Weapon.

you had to Surgically Remove him from your phone so you can use it and to stop him from draining your battery looking at the art

and he often drags you out to town and admire pieces when you’re holing yourself in too much. your comments are always unknown to him, “radical”, “that’s one i can vibe with ngl”, and the list goes on.

and you occasionally call him pretty boy as a compliment rlly

—kennyo:

when you first saw him at honno-ji, and he won’t forget the one (1) line you gave him, all you said to his warning of ooo spooky demons was, “that’s lit fam gtg tho”

and that alone was enough to stun him for a few seconds

honestly you told the others of your meeting with kennyo before they told you it could be kennyo. just a throaway line of “oh yeah there was this dude with a scar across his face.” / “,,, ,....that’s kennyo. he’s really dangerous actually—” / “oh, poggers”

you’re probably kind of half the reason the oda forces found who dun it.

and it was an eye for an eye, kennyo himself found out that you were their child chatelaine, and very close to the others. as per his villain-schedule, he kidnaps you .

he laments about how “such a pure soul such as yours is not to be stained by the demon’s hands”

oh how Wrong he was.

you were the definition of the opposite of pure. and you seemed unfazed, which surprised kennyo but shrugged it off. he was willing to face you screaming and panicking, along with shouldering the sin of doing the deed. but instead, he was met with a raised eyebrow and, “this is unexpected and probably not welcomed but what am i doing here.”

he was stunned for a moment before explaining what he can. 

“......... fuck.”

he cringed ever so slightly at your curse. but your attention seems to stray so quickly off of the fact that you were bounded and helpless, to the fact that you have the man doing unspeakable things to civilians and you absolutely don’t approve.

throwing your common sense to maybe be civilized, you went off on a rant of how human rights and how to not be an ass to him. all he could do was just listened, shocked to even cut you off.

when he did, he gave the whole ‘unsaved demon’ shtick, and you weren’t taking that kinda shit. he believed he was truly unsaved—you knew that. but that doesn’t make it okay.

eventually, he left you with a cold end of the conversation.

he admires your spirit in a way—but with what he’s experienced,,, it’s a bit of unreachable for him.

if at any point you saw the soft side of his with animals, you just gaped at him for a split second and whispered, “the gap moe is strong with this one.”

also old man died inside when you said that you’d fight god, along with many things.

all in all, to him, you’re insufferable. but weirdly,, fascinating.

you’ve totally ok boomer’d him once cause he rlly looks old

—motonari:

,,. if your speech to kennyo was bad, he’s going to rant hell.

motonari already knew you were interesting even when his men just spied on you. your behavior, so brash and impulsive, is going to be so fun to have, he thinks.

through some planning to stir up more chaos, he kidnaps you and brings you unto his ship. same as kennyo, you showed no clear sign of surprise, and that’s when he decided you were either used to this in any way, or a fool. both answers, he liked.

you’re kind of really confused on why he’s doing what he’d doing. “i get it, i like to stir up chaos myself but it’s harmless,, most of it—but not until the people are in danger, bitch.”

and by that line, motonari leans towards you with a deadly smirk, “now, i can bite, ‘kay kid? you don’t wanna be in the receiving end... do you?”

“do it, coward.”

and before he could let out even a wheeze of laughter, you continued on on a lecture of, again, not being a dick and letting people live their life in peace. and much less all of this damage, for what? chaos?? yeah you wanted to see the world burn but it wasn’t literally.

however, his patience was running thin. he shuts you up forcefully, and leaves.

even so, after a cooldown period, he still talks to you (,,,, well, that’s kind of a generous term) because, right he was, you were so fun in his eyes.

an interesting observation he made,,, was that you picked up on his big dislike of physical contact. and he’d think with how annoying you were at times, that you’d weaponize it. but you didn’t—in fact, you kept your space (not that you were planning to get close) and respected his boundaries.

he thinks you a bit of peculiar for that decision, some wary, and perhaps naive.

one of the days—the more dangerous ones—he was planning to take you to the oda as bait or something. and you weren’t taking it like that. two days before arrival, a storm racked up. you stood upon the edge of the ship with the rest of the crew watching you like you were a madman.

“the oda won’t want me if i’m dead, would they now?”

motonari stands in his composure, guffawing, “all i need is to make sure they believe you’re alive, kid.”

a smile that showed absolutely no fear and 1000 percent spite spread in your face, “not unless i decimate my own body until all the trail left is my blood. the only one who gets to do that shit to me, is me.”

finally, a look of wavering shows in his face.

you were saved last minute,, and the rest is history.

[azaffranist]

Frozen 2 deleted/early content

On the road to F2 there were tons of leaks and I saved as many of them as I could in the fear that Disney would delete them (because they loved to shut down whole websites because of that back in the day). As a result I have a lot of pictures saved on my phone and looking back on them... some don’t sound quite right because it’s definitely not what I saw in the movie. So here’s everythinggg I have. I did my best to organize stuff a bit but there are so many things it was... hard. Feel free to add more stuff in reblogs, replies and such!

Something to note is that we won’t take into account the “officially” released deleted content, which would include everything that’s in the Blu-ray, because basically everyone already saw that (Home, I Seek the Truth, Get This Right, Unmeltable Me, the Secret Room scene, Hard Nokks, etc). Generally, we won’t be analyzing deleted scenes from the official trailers, either, because of this very reason. Something “official” that we will consider, though, are the deleted clips animators have been releasing on Instagram and other sites, because those aren’t that popular.

Before starting here’s the link to all the deleted F2 lines I could find as well as some other additions. The post itself has even more links to other posts containing deleted content so have fun clicking on links. 

Last thing to mention, none of the merch photos here are taken by me. I got most of them from the leaks channel of the Arendelle Kingdom server during 2019. If any image in this post belongs to someone here and you want to be credited please let me know and I’ll edit the post.

This post is long. Like really, really, lagging-my-browser-as-I’m-writing-it long. So grab some popcorn and get comfortable or just take a look at what interests you.

So without further ado, let’s get started!

Deleted Artbook Content

One of the most exciting leaks we got were definitely these sample artbook excerpts. None of these pages made it into the final artbook, though.

This piece definitely belongs in Iduna and Agnarr’s backstory, in which the Northuldra leader wasn’t an ordinary man but a shapeshifter.

The biggest picture in this page points to yet another version of Iduna and Agnarr’s backstory. It’s possible to deduce Bruni hadn’t been fully developed yet or created at all since the fire isn’t pink.

The one on the bottom right seems to be an earlier version of the “forest freed” scene in the final movie, or maybe it happened in another moment altogether.

The most interesting of the three, though, is this one. Nothing in the movie points to the existence of a place like this. It’s interesting to note that this peculiar house looks very similar to Iceland’s “elf houses”, tied to the myth of the Huldufólk, “hidden people”, who were said to be small and live in a parallel world, being able to make themselves visible at will.

These are definitely the inhabitants of the Enchanted Lands, who look completely different than in the final movie with their long cloaks, hoods and staves. They look like mages. Were these the very first concepts of the Northuldra, or another group of characters altogether that ended up being scrapped? Only Ahtohallan knows...

Even though the tree and the vegetation illustration is in the book, there’s one missing and that one is the bottom left. One of the most popular theories in the fandom regarding that illustration is that it was an Arendellian military camp tied to the expedition to the Enchanted Lands. I think what we got in the movie is a watered down version of a much more violent and sinister endeavor to invade the Northuldra. The above mentioned deleted scene of the battle of Arendellians agains Northuldrans is proof of that.

This one shows the Arendellian gang and most likely Mattias looking at the walls of a cave with drawings on it depicting the Nokk among other things that I can’t quite make out. I’ve heard people say that an earlier version of F2 involved the gang encountering Mattias in a volcanic cave and that’s where this scene would go, but I don’t know if those are rumors or there’s an actual source. If someone happens to have knowledge on this topic in particular please let me know and I’ll update the post.

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Incomplete Frozen Fan Fest books and their alternate scenes

As I’ve mentioned in another post, Frozen Fan Fest happened on October 4th, 2019, and it was the official release of the movie’s first merchandise. We were all super excited to look at the storybooks and read the ending!

Except there was no ending and the books ended abruptly right before Olaf’s death, completely skipping over Show Yourself.

You hear that? “Elsa bravely dives into the Dark Sea”. We know the Dark Sea scene was shortened and that’s more proof.

This section of a Frozen 2 storybook explains how it went a bit better. After Elsa was defeated twice by the ferocious waves she climbed up some giant rocks and dove back in. Only Ahtohallan knows how that would be effective in this situation and not a waste of strength, but hey, I’m sure it looked super cool and I’d be down to see it.

”Elsa trudged through terrible winds and thick snow”... um... she didn’t? This might’ve been created when Show Yourself wasn’t a thing yet and her path through Ahtohallan was just that, trudging through terrible winds and snow, and not an inspiring song about self-love and finding yourself. I wonder how that scene would’ve looked.

Maybe we can find something relating to that “unused” section of Ahtohallan in a book called “Anna, Elsa and the Secret River”. Basically Iduna tells them that there’s a secret river out there and after the lullaby Elsa and Anna go nuts and try to look for the river outside. Seems like it was all a shared acid trip because next morning they seriously consider it was a dream.

Maybe here they didn’t realize they were in front of a river, because “Glaciers are rivers of ice” and this is what that Ahtohallan Elsa ventured into originally would’ve looked like? The white river doesn’t know...

This is by far one of my favorite ones. I wouldn’t exactly describe post-Show Yourself as a moment of calm and peace. Maybe peace but definitely not calm. Then it says that the signal meant that “she managed to cross the sea”. That’s a really weird way to describe “horrifying ice statue of colonialist grandpa killing an innocent native man”. I don’t know if they’re hiding the actual plot here of if they hadn’t yet worked out all the details of SY and the moment Elsa found the truth.

Anna has her cloak on as she finds the truth. Readers have no idea what this enlightening truth is because the ice statue is indistinguishable.

As it shows here, the original Iduna being Northuldra reveal was going to happen in a different way. I’m glad we got that final version... Because wow, Elsa and Anna are completely unable to connect the dots here. Anna was smart enough to figure out what to do after receiving Elsa’s message, c’mon! This should’ve been piece of cake...

 Iduna called Elsa “Little Snow”. This points to an alternate All is Found scene and we’ll talk about that more in depth later.

Same scene. Translation is: 

“While tucking the little princesses in, Queen Iduna sang them a lullaby about a far-away river called Ahtohallan, which holds all the answers about the past.

“Does Ahtohallan know why I have powers?” asked Elsa her mother.

“If it exists, it definitely knows that and much more,” answered the Queen.

So in this earlier version, Elsa has always asked herself if Ahtohallan had the answer to her powers... Doesn’t this make Show Yourself work even better? Here she always looked for that answer and she’d learn that she is the answer. I wonder why they took it out because it makes a lot of sense and would give buildup to Show Yourself.

Here what really matters are the squares with text. Olaf never ran through moss or became covered in it. Olaf never looks down a brook to be met by Nokk’s gaze from below. Maybe it’s an alternate When I’m Older?

And relating to that particular piece of merch:

Seems like in an earlier version, the Nokk was associated with waterfalls.

Everyone shut up there’s SWORD ANNA here. Found in a coloring book. I don’t speak Italian but Google Translate says: 

“Anna is a brave one: she does not hesitate to draw her sword to defend her sister Elsa and her friends from any new threat.”

GOOD FOR HER! This is definitely from the version we were shown in the teaser, when Anna wielding an actual sword and slicing someone with it was still a thing. Man, how I wanted that to happen...

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Alternate fully animated scenes found in animators’ posts

After the release of Frozen 2, animators started to post scenes they had worked on and showing the process behind them. Some of them were deleted, are different in the final movie, or have a completely different score accompanying them.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Adam Green (@agreenster) on Apr 6, 2020 at 5:31pm PDT

A completely different dialogue during the boat scene. Pretty heartbreaking and it’s even more buildup for TNRT, when Anna was left by literally everyone she loved in the planet.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Trent Correy (@trentanimation) on Apr 14, 2020 at 8:50am PDT

Apparently, for whatever reason, Gale was going to appear in the castle first.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Trent Correy (@trentanimation) on Mar 29, 2020 at 10:51am PDT

Olaf’s revival was going to be way different, and this implies that his death might’ve been different, too. Maybe his snow just dissipated and didn’t go anywhere? Maybe instead of being neatly placed by a waterfall, it fell all over the Enchanted Lands? I have no idea.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Mariusz Furmanczyk (@mariofurmanczyk) on Mar 21, 2020 at 7:11pm PDT

I absolutely LOVE this one, okay, and I have no idea why they’d leave it out. Turn your sound on and listen to the much more tragic alternate score. But more importantly, pay attention when she turns to solid ice: just like in F1 with Anna, her last breath is visible. Beautiful parallels, poetic cinema, and I’m hurt and confused and I want it in the movie. Excuse me while I call the police.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Mariusz Furmanczyk (@mariofurmanczyk) on Feb 26, 2020 at 5:47pm PST

Here the only change is the different score as she unfreezes. I love it so much. It’s so tragic, heavy and powerful. You can basically hear the fragility of Elsa’s fate as the ice breaks and she falls. Help. Here, here, and here, you can see other glimpses of this beautiful alternate score. Once again I’m calling the police and telling them Disney hurt my feelings by leaving this out.

I’ve hit the 5 videos limit already, but here is a link to an animation by jdublish. The change isn’t the scene itself but the completely different siren call Elsa hears. Much more ominous and creepy and I also love it, even though I have to admit the final siren call sounds catchier and more iconic. Also, kids under five won’t start crying of fear when they hear it.

Then there were also plenty of changes in the Elsa vs Nokk scene and we got to see one. Thanks to @justlookatthosesausages for pointing this out and letting me use her gif! The original video was set to private for some reason so I can’t post a Youtube link, but this is @justlookatthosesausages‘ gif:

Elsa struggled way more in the original version. Go to her post to see a comparison with the final version.

And now the awaited All is Found alternate scene! Thanks a lot to @lovewillthaw-j who helped me collect all the scenes. 

First two scenes from the trailers: the Official one, Elsa looks up and Iduna gazes at the northern lights.

The Japanese one, in which Iduna kisses Elsa’s hands. @catloafs pointed that out after F2′s release so thanks!

And the last two were found by @antoineharrakblog, so thanks for that! Here and here.

BUT there’s no need to click a bazillion links because @lovewillthaw-j‘s post reconstructs in a single video what the original scene would’ve been like. Go watch it!

UPDATE: Additions by @antoineharrakblog​. Thanks a lot!

Here we can see that originally, as the elements fled and Kristoff held Olaf, he yelled, “Wow, you’re heavy!”. Don’t know why this would be removed. Maybe they wanted to keep the scene serious? Maybe they needed to shorten the movie so that it didn’t exceed 100 minutes and cut little jokes like that?

 And here, showing Elsa seeing how Iduna saved her father, there’s some deleted dialogue: “Get the prince out of here!” “King Runeard, what did you decide?” in addition to a much more tense score in general.

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UPDATE: Screencaps of deleted/alternate scenes

Thanks a lot to @antoineharrakblog for bringing all of these pictures to my attention! Multiples screencaps have appeared in different magazines or books that clearly didn’t make it to the movie.

Anna never makes that movement in the final movie. There’s more proof of an alternate/extended “Elsa and Anna talk” scene.

This is another one. There exists a lower quality version of this picture which I can’t find right now, but it shows that Anna and Elsa are sharing kransekake in this particular scene (the particular food that we can see at the beginning of OFA).

These are all part of the All is Found scene we’ve been talking about. In the final movie we can see that All is Found serves as a sort of “bridge” between the past and the present, as it transitions from Iduna singing the song to Elsa to Elsa in the castle, reminiscing. But originally, Iduna finished singing All is Found in the past. There’s proof of this here. 

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UPDATE: Novelization deleted content

This information was provided by @theupsidedownpyramid��� so thanks a lot! There are some really interesting deleted scenes in the novelization.

In this one, Elsa felt the urge to release her magic after hearing the voice at the end of All is Found.

In the novelization Mattias and Yelena’s (or Yelana? Disney will never decide) relationship was a lot deeper than what was shown in the movie.

For more information and a more thorough analysis, read @theupsidedownpyramid​‘s reblog!

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Miscellaneous

So there’s only one image in this section but believe me, it’s so worth it. 

An animator casually mentioned that there was going to be a head kiss scene. Process it. Can’t? I can’t either.

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Wow I’m TIRED. I must’ve missed something but that’s all my brain can handle as of now. Thank quarantine for giving me the opportunity to work on this post all day.

Disney committed war crimes when they deleted some of these scenes. I have only one question: Why in the world would they do that? And more information might see the light of day in the future. I’ll never get tired of trying to piece together the convoluted puzzle that is the original Frozen 2.

I will update this post if I remember something else or if someone else has more content to share. Let’s reconstruct F2 together to visualize that movie Disney deemed too cool for us!

UPDATE: Into the Unknown: the Making of Frozen 2 Documentary finally has a concrete release date, June 26th. Let’s hope we can see more stuff then!