sorry about your parents

hey uh, little parenting tip? don’t get annoyed at your kids for things they’re really really invested in. don’t get all openly reluctant and grumpy when your kids for asking for merchandise of that thing. don’t make fun of it. don’t snap at them when they want to talk about it. don’t use it against them when you’re lecturing them about whatever. I don’t care how much “you don’t get it”. it’s such a shitty thing when you’re really excited about something and then the one person you trust and look up to just gets mad about it. it makes them defensive of that thing, it makes them feel like they can’t connect with you because you refuse to understand it. it makes them ashamed to feel excited about something.

I mean, I’ve had my parents do all of the above to me when I got super into pokemon. and it made me feel ashamed to talk about anything with them. it made me feel ashamed for liking something that made me feel happy. they’ve stopped at this point and they’re better about it. but now i can’t talk to them about my interests, even non-pokemon stuff, because I’m afraid of that annoyed response.

just. don’t be shitty about your child’s interests. give them a person to talk to about it. learn about it, and try to understand it. be nice to your kids.

Stormy Nights (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: Richie and Eddie are both teenagers (roughly 16) and both of their family lives are getting worse, particularly Richie’s. One night Richie cant take it anymore and sneaks through Eddie’s window to stay the night.

Warning(s): Mentions of emotional and mental abuse, cussing, FLUFF/ANGST??? fuck i love reddie

A/N: Hello all! My main account is @edsrich and I wont be posting my imagines for IT here anymore is based around marvel-  but I created this one here! And I livE AND BREATHE for Reddie.  Yes, this takes place whilst the Losers Club are all in their teen years, frankly because I find it easier to write certain things that aren’t as cute and innocent (despite Richie & the other boys being fAR from iNNocent). I hope you enjoy! Feedback, positive and negative is appreciated!

Eddie laid in bed watching ‘Little Shop of Horrors’, whilst wearing a navy shirt and oversized sweats to keep him comfy. It was currently 9PM on a random Wednesday in the middle of Summer, today was a basic day; it involved hanging out with Bill and Richie for the day as Stan, Ben and Mike were busy. 

Ever since the incident that happened back in 1989, some had became distant from the group more than others. Beverly moved away the day after the losers defeated Pennywise itself, whilst Stan slowly distanced himself and Mike seemed to be working a lot. Ben was just busy on this random day and couldn’t hang out with the other boys.

Eddie rumbles a grunt in the back of his throat, sitting up and adjusting his white pillowcases in a more comfortable position and he places his smaller frame back down onto his mattress and continues to watch ‘Little Shop of Horrors’. 

Ripples of lightning sliced through the cloud smothered sky, alongside with the summer showers that poured down upon the town of Derry, which alone created a moody atmosphere for Eddie. Eddie flinched as the crackles from the rumbling thunder shocked him every now and then. Branches tapped against his window as the wind swirled them against the glass repeatedly, too startling the teen.

Suddenly, a large bang- much larger than the small twigs- impacted the glass of the window, causing Eddie to squeak.

The startled boy frantically looked to where the noise was, only to see large bulky glasses and brown curly hair. Richie.

Eddie, at first, thought he was seeing things-  which caused him to raise his hands and wipe his eyes from the sleep that stuck in his inner corners, but to no avail- it was Richie, soaked for that matter.

Eddie stood up, walking over to his window and slowly and silently opened the window- careful not to wake his over protective mother, he quickly helped his best friend into his room with a soft grunt and no noise from Richie.

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie whispered a bit, rain splatting his pale cheeks before quickly shutting the window before any more rain flew inside.

“It’s nice to see you too, Eds.” Richie mumbled, for once not making a snarky remark.

Eddie went over to his door, shutting it before looking over his shoulder. “Don’t call me Eds.”

The corner of Richie’s lips tugged up into his signature smirk at Eddie’s signature remark to his own, as he removed his thick rimmed glasses, attempting to wipe away the droplets that stuck to his lenses. He pushed his fingers inside of his wet shirt and rubbed the material against the glass, his attempts failing.

“Here, hold on.” Eddie sighed, walking up to the taller boy and taking the glasses away and using his own shirt to smear away the droplets, this time much more successfully.

Richie watched, his tongue poking his cheek with his thoughts all over the place- but continued to keep remotely silent unless he was spoken too.

Eddie finished cleaning his friends glasses, before holding them up and putting them on Richie’s face for him, a confused look remaining on his face as he watches Richie’s eyes grow larger due to the lenses that were suited for his eye sight.

“What happened, Richie? Why are you here- I-I mean, I’m not complaining but this is just fucking unusual.” Eddie rambled a bit, a voice crack slipping into his sentance 

This caused Richie to smirk despite the emotions he currently was feeling, Eddie knew his background and what his family was like. He knew his Mother was an alcoholic and that his Father was just plain cruel to him for no apparent reason. Both parents had in fact told him this very night that they would’ve rather had a daughter than for him to even exist. Sure, his Mother was drunk; his Father was beyond stressed, but he was sober and agreed with every word that his Mother slurred.

Not to mention, ‘a drunken mans words is a sober mans thoughts’, even if his Mother wasn’t a man.

“It was them again, Eds.”

Eddie chose to ignore the nickname that he had a love-hate feeling for, instead becoming concerned, “Who?” 

Richie sighed, “Mom and Dad, as fucking usual. I fucking hate them.” His cusses had a bite to them, the brown hairs of his eyebrows furrowing more and more.

Eddie quickly realised the situation, “Oh shit, alright- fuck, um, do you want some of my clothes to sleep in?”

Richie smiled genuinely, glad he had Eddie as his friend. “Yeah.”

Eddie nodded, turning and kneeling as he dug through his pyjama’s drawer, nervously shoving away the porno magazines that were messily tossed at the top of the pile. He as a teenage boy had his needs, but that wasn’t what he was embarrassed about showing or even Richie seeing- he was embarrassed incase Richie saw that his porn stash wasn’t full of lewd pictures of women, but of the opposite gender.

Richie looked around the familiar bedroom, seeing posters of movies that Eddie was fond of and even photographs of him in his childhood and with his friends, being Bill, Stan and himself with Eddie dangling on the end next to Richie.

Richie’s eyes then snapped to the cheap TV, smirking to himself. “Little Shop of Horrors? Really? This is what you come home to and watch for fun?”

Eddie frowned, without looking at Richie. “Little Shop of Horrors is in fact, one of the best movies of all time.” 

“No, Eds, it’s one of your best movies that you like. Hell, it’s a damn musical.” Richie snickered.

“Actually, Richie, it’s labelled as a Science Fiction and Romance movie, which to me is quite entertaining.”

“But it’s funny because you’re watching a movie with ‘Horror’ in the title.”

“Now why is that funny?” Eddie spoke stubbornly, standing up and turning to look at his friend with a shirt and sweatpants in his arms.

“Because you cried in fear watching Jaws, Eds.” 

Heat rose to Eddie’s cheeks, scoffing as he didn’t push the subject any more and dropped the clothes onto his bed.

“I’ll just turn around whilst you change, you can’t leave this room just incase my Mom comes in and see’s you.”

“Your Mom has already seen all of me, Eds.”

“That’s so not funny.” Eddie grumbled angrily, his nose lightly scrunching up at Richie’s words.

Richie rolled his eyes smugly, smirking towards his friend. “Whatever Eds, I’m sure you’ll be tempted to turn around.”

The heat flared even more on Eddie’s cheeks, his eyebrows furrowing and turning around. “Whatever, shut up and change.”

Richie stared at the small boys frame, his eyes wandering for a second as he began to strip and too turning away to look out the window. Awkward silence filled the air, the two boys hearts pounding profusely for each other, without the other knowing it yet.

Richie holds up the shirt once the sweat pants are slid on in front of his bare chest, tilting his head. 

“Now, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

Eddie turns around, again- his heart pounding in his throat and his blush spreading to his chest. “Put it on, asshole!”

“I don’t like sleeping in shirts dude, you know this.” Richie partly whined this comment, stomping his bare foot lightly against the creaking wood beneath him.

Eddie hesitated his words, “Fine, but don’t be fucking creepy about it.”

Richie hummed in satisfaction, plotting his rear on the bed that belonged to his best friend, bouncing on it for a second. “Your bed is comfy.”

“Oh, thanks?” Eddie tilted his head in confusion before sighing and going to his VHS system, “Since you’re a huge hater on Little Shop of Horror’s, what do you want to watch?”

Richie stood up, walking behind the smaller boy with one hand on the upper side of his body and looking over his shoulder at the selection of VHS tapes to choose from, causing Eddie to stiffen up at first, only centre-meters were between Richie’s bare chest and Eddie’s back. “What do you have for me to choose from?”

“U-Uh, I got Star Wars, Dirty Dancing- um, Back to the Future, Batman-”

“Hold up, did you say Dirty Dancing?”

“Yes, I did. It is a beautiful romance musical about dirty dancing, what more could you want?” Eddie spoke with annoyed sarcasm, frowning, “Just because it’s in my collection, doesn’t mean I watch it dumbass.”

Richie grinned at Eddie’s temper flaring slightly, “Calm down, Eds. Its fine if you want to watch dirty dancing at 1AM, we all understand.” Richie teased, “How about we watch Batman?”

Eddie ignored Richie’s teases once again, before nodding and grapping the VHS tape that was labelled ‘Batman’, taking out Little Shop of Horrors and sliding in the new tape.

The rain poured down heavier and violently pitter pattered against the window, the cold air chilling the two boys equally.

“Nice weather we’re having, don’t you agree?”

“Fucking lovely.” Eddie retorted, chuckling a bit and responding with equal sarcasm.

The two eventually laid down side by side on the bed side by side with the lights off and Batman playing in front of them in low quality. Their arms grazed each other every now and then, as well as their legs too.

“I’m sorry about what happened with your parents.” Eddie whispered over the film’s sound.

Richie took his eyes away from the screen, looking down at his friend. “Don’t be, they’re assholes.”

“They are, but you don’t deserve that shit.”

“Yeah, neither do you though. Your Mom’s a bitch too.” Richie sighed this out, inching closer to Eddie.

“I know but, both of your parents… you know-”

“Hate me, yeah I get it.” Richie mumbled, “I’m not surprised, I’m a shit son. I’d hate me too.”

Eddie sits up lightly, frowning at Richie’s harsh words that were stabs at himself. “Not everyone hates you Richie.”

“I’m annoying, I put up this stupid act and I make unnecessary dick jokes all the time.”

“I don’t hate you…” Eddie trailed off, blushing a bit but hoping it was hidden by the dark room. 

“It’s actually weird to hear someone say that to me, considering I get it all the time.” Richie chuckled dryly, sighing and tilting his head back. “Thankyou, Eds.”

Eddie didn’t even care in this moment that he was called ‘Eds’, but instead rested his head against Richie’s bare chest. Richie was at first startled with wide eyes, his cheeks becoming red instantly. But soon settled, his heart beating heavily and resting one arm around Eddie. His only hope was that Eddie couldn’t hear his heart.

Batman continued to play lowly in the background, but the boys only solely focused on each other and nothing else. Both becoming sleepy as the night carried on and it became later and later, both laying with each other like never before.

Eventually, Richie used his free arm to take his glasses away from his eyes and places them on the side table of Eddie’s bed quietly, yawning whilst Eddie snuggled a little closer sleepily, with lidded eyes.

“You know, Eds? I’m really fucking glad I have you in my life.” Richie whispers to a half asleep Eddie.

Eddie just about lets out a dazed smile with closed eyes, “I love you too, Richie.”

Richie’s cheeks steam up, his eyes widening a bit and he slowly shifts his eyes to the boys well kept head of hair, rubbing his fingers into his shoulder and pulling him closer as Eddie, unknown of confessing his feelings, drifts into a sleep.

Richie then, noticing that his best friend has fallen asleep- leans down carefully, without wakening him, and then presses his chapped lips that had a small taste of cigarettes and candyfloss against Eddie’s temple.

“I love you more, Eds.”

  • Ren: ...and that was the day I met Nora.
  • Ruby: Wow. You two had already been through so much before you even met each other and Ren, I'm so sorry about what happened to your parents.
  • Ren: Thank you, Ruby. Destroying the Nuckelavee has brought me a long awaited sense of peace.
  • Nora: Yeah and a date with me, finally! Honestly you can be so clueless at times.
  • Ren: I'm the clueless one? Who thought I was a girl for the first three years of knowing each other?
  • Nora: Hey! It's not my fault! The long hair and pink stripe threw me off.
{PART 5} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut 

Summary; You’re hesitant to reveal your painful past to Jungkook, but time gets cut dreadfully short when Jungkook excuses himself upon receiving an interesting phone call.

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4} {Part 5} {Part 6}

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

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Sorry About Your Parents
Icon For Hire
Sorry About Your Parents

Icon For Hire - Sorry About Your Parents (Icon For Hire)

I’m sorry about your parents, they sound like bad people
Your daddy sounds like a jerk
I guess your mama didn’t know the gift she got when she got you
I’m sorry about your life, you had it pretty rough
Bending over backwards, never good enough
You poor thing, it must suck to be you
And I know it’s not your fault, it never is, is it?

I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds
It takes more than I have, pick fights with the past, I always lose
Oh, don’t you know? That’s no way to live
I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds

I get it, give me a little credit
I remember when I was that pathetic
Wear my scars on my sleeve, for all the world to see
Like look what they did to me quick, lay on the sympathy thick
You probably have the right to feel how you do
You were mistreated and cheated out of the childhood you needed
And now you’ll never succeed if you’re so convinced you’re defeated
If you’re obsessed with your yesterday then you’re destined to repeat it
And I know it’s not your fault, it never is, is it, is it, is it?

I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds
It takes more than I have, pick fights with the past, I always lose
Oh, don’t you know? That’s no way to live
I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds

I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds
It takes more than I have, pick fights with the past, I always lose
Oh, don’t you know? That’s no way to live
I know what it’s like staying up all night nursing wounds

Kids are Afraid to Cry in Front of Their Parents and I'm Stunned??

Ok so I was talking to a friend a few nights ago and they said something that floored me and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since? They were in a confrontation with their mother and said “should wouldn’t listen to me I just wanted to scream and cry. Lol but I couldn’t I can’t give her that satisfaction I won’t let her hold that over me.” And I was absolutely horrified? I’m horrified that so many of my friends I’ve made on this website have such horrible parents. Like I have never EVER been scared to cry in front of my dad. He has never made fun of me, belittled me, told me it was childish, or “used it against me.” He comforts me. I’m in college and even now when I’m crying he’s the first person I turn to for comfort. He’s semi retired and spends most of the week out of town but if there’s something that’s upset me you can bet your ass the I’m picking up the phone with every intention to cry to him. Parents always talk about how their kid is so closed off to them and never lets them in about their personal life and shit like this is the reason why. How DARE you call yourself a parent if you mock their trust in you to be vulnerable before you? I don’t care if you think it’s overdramatic or silly they’re trusting you to be there and comfort them. When I lost my fish I called my dad crying and did he think it was silly? Absolutely! Did he tell me it was silly? Hell fucking no. He comforted me over the phone for 30 min. That’s what a parent should do!

I feel horrible whenever I bring up my dad and have people tell me “your dad is so nice and amazing I wish my parents were like him.” But he shouldn’t be some gold standard unattainable parent? He should be seen as a normal parent. He’s an amazing parent but he makes mistakes and so do I, but guess what? He’s human and I expect him to make human mistakes and he expects the same.

If your children doesn’t tell you about their life then maybe you should consider yourself to be the problem.

Protégé (M) [Part 5]

Originally posted by jjks

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3] - [Part 4]

Warning: Mentions of violence

Words: 10,882

When your phone receiver buzzed, you were poised and ready, jabbing your index finger against the speaker button. “Yes?”

“Morning, ma’am.” Jaebum’s voice drifted through the device, as cheerful as it always was, despite it just being a couple hours past sunrise. 

“Good morning, Jaebum.” You murmured, only filling the small gap of silence before he continued with what you’d been dreading to hear all morning.

“There’s someone here to see you,” He continued and you slowly exhaled. “A Miss Sorin Park.”

Your tongue glided over the edges of your teeth and back again, buying yourself time to settle the simmering annoyance that had been bubbling within you since last night. “Send her up.”

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Hades!Harry pt. 1

  A/N: “Could you write about Hades!Harry??xx” I’ve never written anything like this before but i was so excited to step out of my comfort zone. I got a bit carried away so there will be a Part 2. Enjoy!


    Y/n didn’t find herself in scary situations that often. Her days consisted of tending to the crops, making sure her younger siblings are fed three times a day, and treading the two hour journey to the nearest market to sell anything she possibly could for extra cash. Her routine had been this way since her parents were killed out at sea a year ago. That’s all she knows; no major details or even a chance to bid them farewell.  

   They left, one morning, with the intention to trade goods with villagers that resided a couple hundred miles east of the Atlantic. They promised her and her two younger brothers that they would return in a month’s time. Unfortunately, the day after they departed, Y/n received a knock at the door and an unsealed letter with no return address stating that her Mother and Father had died. 

  “Ship caught fire. There were no survivors, sorry for you loss” 

    Y/n had been only seventeen at the time, but her wisdom was well beyond her years. It was that very wisdom that allowed her to take charge of the household and become the new guardian for her brothers. She wouldn’t call the death of her Parents ‘scary’. Incredibly tragic? Yes. But she had been raised to take on challenges when they’re thrown at her.

   The girl always stood by that, even when she found herself being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night by two dark figures. She kicked, flailed and scratched every chance she got. There was no way they would take her without a fight. The brawny black figures had managed to pin her down to the bed and tie her hands behind her back with chains. She blew a stray strand of hair from her face as they picked her up and made their way towards the door. She began to wonder how she had not heard them break the door down. 

 'God I’m so stupid’ she thought to herself, though she knew very well that even if she had heard them break into the cottage, she would’ve ended up in the very same position.

   Just before they carried her passed the boys’ room, she was able to peek in and see that they were staring back at her in sheer terror. Her heart broke. She was helpless and she knew they felt the same. It was obvious that whoever these people were, didn’t take an interest in the children and that was the only bright side she could find in this predicament. They throw her in the back of a horse-pulled carriage, one of the men stayed in the back to make sure she didn’t escape somehow. The floor of the carriage was covered in dirt and hay, the walls of it were just high enough to hide her from anyone passing by.

   The man beside her, who she could now see was wearing all black armor, proceeded to tie a cloth of some sort across her mouth to prevent any screaming. He left her nose exposed, which gave her the idea that they wanted her alive for some reason. 

 Numerous hours later

 The sun began to rise and she regained consciousness. She didn’t remember falling asleep but she couldn’t blame herself, she’s human.  The carriage came to an abrupt halt, which caused her to hit the top of her head on the wooden barrier. “mmh!” She groaned in pain; the man that had sat with her the entire night, flashed her an unapologetic smile. A few seconds later she was being lifted once again and pulled out of the cart. 

  She took this opportunity to look around and try to figure out where the hell they had taken her. It was like nothing she’d ever seen.

 Before her, stood a castle, bathed in charcoal colored bricks and dressed with Gargoyles at the large, Redwood double-doors. Her feet were still bare and she couldn’t help but wince every time she stepped on a pebble. The armor clad men showed no remorse as they pushed and pulled her every which way. The doors opened slowly, almost as if the structure itself had been expecting her.

  Once inside, her feet were brought relief by the cold marble flooring in the corridor; her eyes darting across the room. She spied million dollar paintings, two grand stair cases, and several stone pillars that kept the manor standing. It was hard to miss the other knight-like men who were posted at just about every corner. Without a moment to think she was, yet again, being guided rather roughly to a location that remained unknown to her. She gave up fighting a long time ago, figuring that if she kept her sanity in tact, she may be able to think up a way to save herself or find someone who can.

  They dragged her up the set of stairs to the left, and through a massive hallway. The walls in this particular area were made, not of wood or stone, but of skulls. Hundreds, possibly thousands of skulls, bound together to form a wall. She wondered how they did it, and if those people had been killed for that dumb reason. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if her head would be an addition to the foyer. After examining the enclosure, she decided to look straight ahead. 

There at the end of the hallway, was another set of cherry colored doors. one door was slightly ajar and it allowed her to peek inside, the same way she did as she passed the room of her brothers not so long ago. She saw what looked to be a bed, a big one; garmented in a duvet the color of blood.

A bedroom?

They dropped her, upon their arrival to the room. They finally removed the chains from her arms as well as the cloth from her mouth. She fell to the floor, her arms covered in bruises and welts. She turned to face the men and opened her mouth to demand answers but was cut off off by the sound of another. A deep, raspy voice; coming from somewhere in the spacious room. 

“So glad you could make it”

She turned back to face the front, eyes locking with a man. He was tall and fit. He was someone she had seen before, she just couldn’t put her finger on where. “do i- hmm” she started but had stop and clear her throat, it had been hours since she had some water. “do i know you?” she asked, sheepishly. Something about his presence intimidated her.

“Yes and no” he smirked. He sauntered over to where she was sitting on the ground, rubbing at her sore arms. He crouched down to her level “you’ve probably seen me in an old carving or something of the sort” he ran his index finger across her jaw. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

‘i’m Harry. Although, if we’re being cordial I should give you my real name” he sighed. “Hades, lord of the underworld”. He studied the blank expression she was giving him. 

“I mean I added that bit about the underworld. Has a nice ring to it” he stated She still said nothing. “I’m not fond of it either, that’s why I make people call me Harry” he smiled before standing. She stared up at him, swallowing what moisture she had left in her dry mouth. 

“oooh don’t look at me like that” he chuckled. biting his bottom lip.

She clears her throat again “Why am I here?” her voice is smaller than its ever been. Part of her hoped he didn’t hear, afraid of how he would react. “Well, doll” He breathed. “I’ve been lonely for quite some time now. I used to have a lovely wife but….let’s just say….I let my temper get the best of me one evening” he snickered. She heard the men behind her stifle their laughter as well. 

“Anyways, i want another but I have standards. I’m five thousand years old, i’m not getting any younger and I know what you’re going to say ‘Harry you don’t look a day over twenty-three!’” he shrilled in a high pitched nasally voice. 

“I wasn’t going to say any-”

“Shh! I haven’t finished my monologue” he interjects. She, boldly, rolled her eyes.

“Long story short, you’re a smart, headstrong, young woman. I started watching you after your parents died…sorry about that by the way it wasn’t my intention” he confessed. Her eyes widened but she was frozen in shock by what she  had just heard. She waited for him to explain what he meant by that.

“I had gotten in a fight with Poseidon and it got a little out of hand I really am sorry, darling” his voice was filled with atonement. He looked back to her, searching for any sign of forgiveness. Even though was was the god of all things bad, he still possessed somewhat of a heart. She nodded, sensing a little bit of guilt in his words.

“What i’m trying to say here is, You’re my new Wife!” he declared. 

“Buried” (Chapter Nine)

Whoo! Two Chapters in One Day! Lots happens in this chapter. The guys finally kiss, Steve is a total BAMF and Tony is as well. Language Warning– I have used the f-bomb like sprinkles on a cake here so heads up! Share the love and like and reblog for me, and say lots of nice things!

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :)

*****************

Day Four

Tony was barely paying attention to where he was walking, too exhausted from the constant hiking and from a restless night to attempt any conversation, much less keep track of every step he was taking.

Neither one of them had slept well, all too aware of the way their interactions were deepening, of how every word exchanged seemed to be laced with extra meaning and a world of hurt. Steve had been out of line, calling out Tony’s actions the way he had, and Tony had been out of line calling him heartless, insinuating that Steve didn’t care about the murdered students.

Both of them had said awful things, and now it was fragile between them, each waiting to be broken all over again by a wrong word or harshly phrased sentence. Or maybe— both waiting for the other to say something about how Steve didn’t have nightmares when he slept next to Tony, or about the apologies and which ones were the right ones.

But neither of them said anything, so they both just kept walking.

Steve, who hadn’t hardly shown any signs of slowing down this entire time, was walking with his head down, feet dragging. Tony, who had reached his breaking point yesterday but was still somehow trudging on, was doing even worse.

So when Steve stopped abruptly, Tony didn’t notice and ran right into him.

“Damn it, why–”

“Hush.” Steve clapped a hand over his mouth and pushed him deeper into the forest, behind a thick stand of trees. “Just wait.”

“Steve–”

Hush!” He snapped, and kept his hand over Tony’s mouth as he peered through the trees as best he could. “We found them.”

“The village?” Tony mumbled against his hand and Steve shook his head.

“The other mercenaries.” Very carefully he released Tony, and waved him forward, ducking down to make themselves as small as possible as they crept closer to the edge of the hill and looked over the cliff face. “They are making camp close to the village so they can spot us whether we come from the forest, the river or the road.”

“Christ.” Tony swore under his breath, adrenaline pumping, fatigue forgotten now as they stared down at maybe a dozen men milling around a rudimentary camp site. All held automatic rifles, dressed in the same all black uniform that Rumlow and Mike had been in.

“Are these all your men?” Tony hissed and Steve shook his head, getting even lower and crawling on his belly to get a better view.

“No, the standard black uniform is pretty common, especially with security teams. This way they blend in. People expect to see us around every once in awhile because of the dig site.”

“Lovely.” Tony stared down at the men for a few minutes, before tensing and elbowing Steve. “Look.”

Rumlow stepped from one of the tents and every line of Steve’s body stiffened. “That bastard.” he growled. “I’m gonna destroy him.”

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PARTS: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // epilogue
Pairing: Jimin x reader
Words: 7,760
Genre: smut, angst, supernatural au.
click here for warnings by part (potential spoilers).

When playing the lying game, there are but two rules. The first is to be convincing. Live the lie, breathe the lie, believe it so wholeheartedly it becomes your new truth. The second is to always remember there are other players in the game, some of whom have been playing it far longer than you.

Time always seemed to go slowly for you. It has always consisted of a lot of waiting, searching, and more waiting. Waiting for leads, waiting for information, waiting for days to turn into weeks, into months, into years. Every day began to seem the same, and the most exciting moments have been those when you’re risking your life. Kind of fucked up, but true.

Recently, though, this has changed. Jimin has changed everything. Somehow, time has passed in a blur of meet ups, of laughter, of actually leaving the safety of the church and experiencing the things the world has to offer. Jimin makes you see the beauty in the mundane and take a look at things you’ve experienced hundreds of times through a different set of eyes. Suddenly, just walking in silence takes on a whole new meaning with him beside you, or even popping by a fast food joint becomes a billion times more interesting as you watch him dunk his french fries into a milkshake (a strange combination that he has tried to make you enjoy, but failed).

Time both seems to go too slow when you’re apart and too fast when you’re together. One instance, you were both talking until the early hours of the morning at his place, only realizing the time at 4AM. You stayed the night, sleeping in his guest room, just a few steps away from his bedroom. You didn’t get any sleep, of course, despite how incredibly comfortable the bed was. He offered to drive you “home” (a fake address to an apartment just across town from him), but you insisted on walking. Your mind buzzed the entire way home, trying to understand what this new friendship meant and how it would affect your mission to avenge your parents. You’ve been distracted, but you’re enjoying it. Possibly more than you should. You’ve been making stupid, half thought through decisions, and there’s no room for those kinds of mistakes in a life like yours.

Mistake number one manifested as a mobile phone. A cheap one from the grocery store, but a phone nonetheless. You’ve never had one and you wouldn’t have the first clue how to use it, but you bought it on a whim. The realization of what you’d done hit you when you were driving back to the church and were struck with distraught feelings you’ve never felt before. How could you be so reckless? Just for a boy? The two of you have gotten along just fine without calling or texting, there’s no need to change anything now. Jimin understood your ‘explanation’ for not owning a phone. You’d justified it with a “It just makes me feel too connected. People used to get by just fine without them. There are so many beautiful things to experience in the world, I don’t want to miss any of it because of some dumb little screen.” Sure, the excuse sounds a bit lame, but there must be people out there who think that way and genuinely do wish to escape the crazy technological world.

Nothing bad happened as a result of your rash decision, but you did drive all the way back to town and leave the phone, along with twenty dollars, beside a sleeping figure in the park.

Hoseok returns from his trip after four weeks, bearing new supplies, weapons, but no information. You want to tell him about Jimin right away, but you’re not sure what his reaction will be. And a part of you wants to keep this as something that’s just yours, just for a little longer. You’re okay with sharing everything with Hoseok, but you know that the moment you do, this thing with Jimin becomes reality. It’ll become something you have to discuss and understand in terms of The Bigger Picture, and you’re not quite ready for that yet.

You’re sure that Hoseok suspects something. Of course he does. There’s no other reason for you to be away so long and then not share what happened or what you did. Hoseok isn’t stupid. But you appreciate that he’s giving you time to come to terms with everything before telling him. You do know, however, that you can’t wait forever. Eventually Hoseok will confront you about what’s going on, and you’ll have to tell him, but for now any confessions are on your terms. You promise yourself that you’ll tell him within the next month. You just need a little longer to pretend that Jimin and your world are completely disconnected, to just enjoy being with him without worrying about the what ifs. Whenever your thoughts stray towards those what ifs, you can’t stop thinking about them. There is no way you can continue to see Jimin and lead your own secret life. You either have to find a way to reconcile the two, or decide which to give up.

Jimin asks about your family one day while the two of you are playing Monopoly (a game you’ve learned to kick his ass in, and he’s complained that he “never should have taught you how to play this dumb game”) and you tell him the truth. Or at least as much of the truth as you can.

“My mom and dad were absolutely amazing. I always felt so loved and special because of them, as any kid should. They were the best parents in the world.” You shake the dice in your hands and let them clatter on the board, knocking over one of your houses in the process. “Then again, everyone thinks their parents are the best. But, god, were they in love. Something in the air just changed whenever they looked at eachother. I always hoped that I would someday be able to experience love like that.”

“Are they…?”

"Dead? Yeah. They passed away when I was small,” you say as you move your piece up five steps, right onto one of his squares with a hotel on it. “Damn it.” Handing him an obscene amount of money notes, you continue. “I was taken in by someone who had known the family for years and I couldn’t be more grateful to him for everything he’s done for me.” Technically Hoseok had known about your family, just not in a positive way. But Jimin doesn’t need to know that.

“There still are some good people left in the world… I’m so sorry about your parents, Sooyoung.”

You shake your head and avoid his eyes, feeling ashamed for the way you still have to conceal the truth from him. Every time he calls you Sooyoung you try to ignore the guilt that gnaws at your heart for continuing to lie to him. “It’s okay, I had to accept the way things were a long time ago. You learn to live and let go.” Another lie. You try to shift the subject away from you and your lying ass. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

This time he glances down, throwing the dice, a bit harder than he usually does so one rolls underneath your leg. You lift it to reveal a three then move it to the centre of the board.

“Complicated is the best way to put it, I guess. Dad's… Dad. Sorry, that doesn’t make sense. When I used to live with him he’d be so busy that he’d rarely be home, and when he was he never really seemed to be there. But it’s fine. Like you, I accepted the way things were a long time ago and moved the hell out as soon as I could. I think I turned out just fine, despite everything.”

“Yeah, you’re not too bad,” you say, which earns you a smile. “How are things with your mom?”

You wish you could take the question back the moment you see his face fall. He tries to cover it, acting like the question doesn’t hit him somewhere in his heart where it aches like a splinter lodged too deep to pull out, but you notice anyway. You learned to read people’s expressions, no matter how subtle, a long time ago. 

“She’s not around anymore. I see her every now and then, but she doesn’t live with us.”

“I’m sorry, Jimin.”

He forces a smile, which only breaks your heart even more. “Life happens, right?” He holds up a card in his hand, indicating the discussion is over. “'Make general repairs on all your property. For each house pay $25, for each hotel pay $100.’ Fuck this game.”

When you finally go home, you decide it’s time to tell Hoseok. For the first time in a while you’re actually nervous to divulge something to him. He can tell. The moment you step foot into the bunker, he takes a look at you and sits down on the couch, eyeing you carefully. He doesn’t speak, waiting for you to go first. You don’t sit down, instead you pace around the room, chewing your lip. He was clearly working on something since there are books strewn across the room, papers piled on the table.

You’re afraid to voice your thoughts because once you start, you might not stop. All the way home, you kept thinking about what it might be like to live a life where playing Monopoly with Jimin could be some weekly ritual, where you could take him to meet Hoseok without having to lie about where you live and just about every other aspect of your life. You kept thinking about what it might feel like to be normal and to not have any what ifs. To be able to see Jimin and not worry about maybe having to say goodbye to him forever out of fear that he might get killed or you might neglect him because of your mission. You wondered what it would be like to live a life where you could truly open your heart to someone without constantly waiting for it to be shattered. 

Finally, you just blurt it out.

“I met someone.”

Hoseok nods, but again doesn’t speak.

“We met in the woods, while you were away. He was lost, and I know that the right thing to do would have been to bail, but I just couldn’t.” You struggle to find the words to explain to him why you didn’t turn around and follow your instincts. You’ve been trained for this. There have been one too many times when you’ve had to turn around and leave someone behind, regardless of how much you wanted to stay and help. You’ve overridden that urge that makes people human. There was even an instance when you had to leave Hoseok behind. It ripped you apart, abandoning him when he was hurt. But he made you leave, and thankfully survived. If you could somehow leave Hoseok behind, you should be able to leave anyone else. And yet, with Jimin you couldn’t. If you could have re-done that whole situation again, you’re sure that you would still do the same thing. You would stay.

“I’m tired, Hobi,” you finally admit. “I’m tired of hiding away and not experiencing the things people my age have probably experienced a billion times already. I love you and I love spending time with you, but, I just wanted to know what it might feel like to have someone in my life who isn’t family and who I don’t live with.”

Hoseok is smiling, which confuses the hell out of you. This is not how you expected him to react. “What? What did I say?”

He shakes his head and pats the space beside him, prompting you to sit down. This time you do. “You look like you’re waiting for me to get angry,” he says. “I’m not, not even a little bit. You were bound to want more than the life you have at some point. I’m happy you met someone.”

 You struggle for words in your stupour. This is not the way you imagined things going. “You’re happy? Aren’t you worried?”

“I know you, Y/N. You have good instincts, so I trust you. I’ve been hoping this day would come for a while now. You deserve more of a life than this church can offer you. Get out there and make some mistakes. That’s life.”

 You raise your eyebrows. “Make some mistakes?”

He laughs. “I don’t mean blow our cover. I mean mistakes that any other average human being would make. People learn best from the dumb things they do. All I ask is that you be careful, alright?”

“Yeah, of course, I haven’t told him about any of this,” you gesture around the bunker, “Or about–”

“Not just that,” he interrupts, gently. “Be careful with your heart. No matter what, you need to put yourself first. If anything ever feels wrong, trust your gut. You’re smart, you’ll know what’s right or wrong. Don’t allow yourself to be pressured into anything you’re uncomfortable with, and don’t let yourself be treated in any way you don’t deserve.”

“Okay, I promise to be careful. But just so you know, Jimin isn’t like that. I can tell. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

Hoseok rests a hand on your arm gently. “At the end of the day, each and every one of us is capable of anything. All of us have secrets, and all of us have flaws. Just keep that in mind. But, you know, don’t forget to have fun. Be careful, but allow yourself to let go. You’ve more than earned it.”

You put your hand over his and give it a squeeze. “Thanks, Hobi.”

The conversation gives you a new sense of strength, and just for a second, you allow yourself to believe that maybe everything will work out.

Three days after your talk with Hoseok, you wait outside the building of your fake address, anxious to see Jimin. The conversation with Hoseok has made you even more excited to see him. The two of you had worked out a solution to you not owning a phone, so that if a meet up didn’t work out, you would see eachother the next day in the same place at the same time. Neither of you have ever had to flake on set plans, but it’s nice to have a backup nonetheless.

Jimin is late. He’s never late, which means that you always have to come much earlier so he doesn’t suspect that you don’t actually live here. The apartment you chose has a key code, which means that there’s no way he can actually come inside unless you let him in. Which also means that he’s less likely to find out that you don’t live here. To find out the code to let you in, you tagged behind someone who lives in the apartment and dug around in your bag as though searching for your keys, all the while watching them enter in the code before slipping inside. They were even kind enough to hold the door open for you to let you in. Some people are just too helpful for their own good. 

You scan the area, trying to spot Jimin’s familiar face, but he’s nowhere in sight. Ten minutes pass, fifteen, twenty, then thirty. You bob up and down on your feet, getting more and more restless by the second.

Eventually you have to accept that he’s not coming. You ignore the dejected feeling in your chest and remind yourself that sometimes life happens. You’ll see him tomorrow and everything will be fine.

You drive home and suppress the urge to drive back and keep waiting. Maybe he’ll come. Maybe he got held up, but planned on coming anyway, just in case you were still there. You don’t turn back. You have your own stuff to do anyway. You have to respect yourself enough to remember that before him, you did have a life. Maybe it wasn’t much of a life, but you still had one. You can’t just throw all of that away just for one person. You can’t constantly be waiting around and putting everything else on pause. That’s not healthy.

So you drive home and greet Hoseok, who you hadn’t seen in the morning before leaving since he was out tending the garden (you assume that’s where he was). He looks a bit surprised to see you back early, but doesn’t question it. The two of you are going to have to adjust to the idea of you seeing people. After so many years of it being just the two of you, this is totally new. Or at least to you it is. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that Hoseok has been around for much longer than you. Before this, he probably had friends and hobbies. He probably didn’t spend all of his time watching his back and watching yours for good measure. Every time you remember this, your heart swells both with sadness for the past life he gave up for you, but also swells with immense gratitude that you will never be able to properly express to him. You hope that after this he is able to live life the way he deserves. To surround himself with people who bring as much light to the world as he does, rather than have to extinguish that flame in the underground bunker day in and day out purely to keep you safe. The older you get – the more time that passes without enough progress – the more guilty you feel for holding him back. But you have to remind yourself that you’re not forcing him to stay, that he’s an adult capable of making his own decisions, and sticking around to help you kick butt was the one he made. You wouldn’t hold it against him for a second if he decided he wanted more than what this life has to offer.

“You busy?” You ask.

 He closes the book on selkies he was reading. “Nope, what’s up?”

“Is it okay if we train for a bit? I’m feeling a bit rusty.”

“Yeah, of course. Inside or outside?”

“Outside.”

You both change into more comfortable clothing, grab a blindfold (which is really just a strip of black cloth from one of your old shirts) and head out of the bunker. You need to release some energy and get some training in since you’ve been missing out on it recently because of how much time you spend with Jimin.

There’s a slight chill in the air and you hug your arms around yourself to conserve heat, but you know that after a while of sparring you’ll be warm enough to forget about the cold.

You make way into the forest, to a spot just far enough from the road that if anyone is passing by they won’t hear anything and come looking. When you practice shooting, you go even further. The risk is small, but it’s easier to talk precautions than to try to explain what you’re doing to a complete stranger.

“You wanna do it blindfolded?” He gestures to the cloth in your hand. Every now and then you remain blindfolded while sparring Hoseok, in order to try to hear him before he comes at you. Sometimes it goes okay, but usually you end up on your ass and with ten new bruises on your body. But you keep doing it, because no matter how good you get, you will always be at a disadvantage if you’re up against a supernatural being. There’s only so much your human body can do, so you need to be able to predict your opponent’s moves before they’ve even finished thinking them through. You need to be one step ahead in a dance where you’re always three steps behind. The blindfold isn’t completely opaque, but it’s dark enough that it feels like it’s night time, and all figures are nothing more than silhouettes.

“Yeah, I’m a bit out of practice. Could you use your abilities today? Please?”

 He deliberates, silence hanging between you, before he finally concedes. “Alright. Tell me to stop the second it gets too much.” You nod and tie the blindfold around your eyes, plunging the world into darkness. You steel yourself for what’s to come, your nerves already in overdrive from anticipation. You would trust Hoseok with your life, but that doesn’t make experiencing his abilities any more pleasant.

“Do your worst,” you say, lifting your balled fists and shifting your feet so you’re ready to spring at him at any second. You listen carefully for footsteps padding over grass, the snap of a twig, a breath against your ear. It’s not enough to hear, it’s important to pinpoint where the noise is coming from and act.

There’s a light crunch behind you and you whip around, swinging but making no contact. Another sounds just nearby you, but again nothing. Sometimes Hoseok fools you and makes you think he’s somewhere where he isn’t, which is infuriating, but keeps you on your toes. The bad guys aren’t going to stop when you tell them to stop.

Something in your gut tells you he’s to your left, like that burning feeling you get when you know somebody is watching you, so you target a blow in that direction and strike Hoseok. Your body buzzes with adrenaline and you feel proud of yourself for being right about your hunch, but this is no time to get distracted, so you let your body react, punching and blocking while shuffling back and forth across the forest floor. He may have the advantage of sight, but you’re the better fighter so you’re faster, albeit slightly clumsy. Just when you think you might overpower him, he invades your mind and tears down your defenses. You fight him, remembering all the lessons from before, just barely managing to throw up walls before he crashes through them.

And then it stops.

A thud and a groan follow, and you promptly tear the blindfold off, squinting as your eyes adjust back to the light. Then you see red. Red everywhere. Your hands are covered in blood, Hoseok lying at your feet, his face deformed and wounded, hand pressed tightly against the spreading scarlet on his shirt.

“What the hell did you do to me?” he chokes out.

You completely forget about the training. “Hoseok, what–”

“You did this to me.” His face contorts in pain and you drop to your knees to pull his hand away, to assess the damage so you can help him, but he swats you away. "You did this.” he keeps saying.

“Hobi, no,” you say, heart pounding in your chest. “Please let me help you. You’re bleeding.”

He laughs, humourlessly. “So are they.”

You don’t want to turn around, but you do, and you suck in a sharp breath at the sight before you. Your mother and father lie lifeless on the cold ground, clothing drenched in their own blood. Almost the entirety of your father’s skin has been badly burned, but you’d recognize him anywhere. A sob lodges itself in your throat, but you can’t lose it or else you’ll never gather yourself again.

“Wh-what happened?” You crawl over to them and shake them desperately. Maybe this time they won’t leave you. Maybe this time you’ll have a chance to actually save them. Something twinges in the back of your mind that this isn’t right, something is off here, and you’re just about to grasp reality again when you hear another groan further away, and your body goes ice cold.

Jimin is drawing in painful, heavy breaths, but he’s still standing. Blood blooms across his green sweater and he looks at you with so much hatred it makes your insides curl. “You did this. You killed us all.”

You stumble over to him but he steps back, holding up a hand to prevent you from coming any closer. “Don’t come near me. You’re a liar. This entire time. A cold-blooded killer. I wish I’d never met you. None of this would be happening if not for you.” He takes another step back and falls over, wincing at the way his body hits the ground. You ignore his protests and crouch beside him, trying to push his sweater aside to prevent the bleeding, but he fights against you, repeating over and over that this is because of you, just like Hoseok had.

“You know,” Jimin begins, his voice strained, “It’s a shame the Alpha didn’t get you too. Would’ve spared us all. He should have gotten your parents and you.”

The words cut deep in a place you never knew you could ache before. Your entire body begins to tremble, but you’re not sure from what. Fear, maybe. Anger. If he were anyone else, they would be dead within a heartbeat for saying something like that, but instead you pull off your top and press it against the wound. Blood quickly stains the cloth and you know there’s not much longer left for him. You scream for help, praying that for once there might be somebody nearby with a phone to call an ambulance. You scream and scream while Jimin laughs, his face growing paler by the second.

“You couldn’t save your parents, what makes you think you could save me?”

“I won’t let you die. I won’t let anyone else die because of me,” you say, your body trembling even more now.

And then he’s gone. They’re all gone and you’re on your knees, hands completely clean, hovering in the air where they were touching Jimin just seconds ago. Reality always takes time to come back to you, but this time you lost yourself more than you usually do, and so the divide between truth and illusion doesn’t come back as fast as it should. Jimin was right here, dying in front of you, and he wanted nothing to do with you. None of them did.

“Y/N,” Hoseok rushes to your side and you startle, staring at him. He’s unwounded, safe. Alive. “Y/N, I’m here. I got you.”

It takes you a second to realize that everything was part of the hallucination, that nothing that just transpired was real. The relief hits you like a freight train, but another feeling gnaws at your stomach because you can’t help but wonder if maybe there was some truth to your nightmare.

“Why did you stop?”

Hoseok is looking at you with so much concern and you don’t understand why. Eventually you would have figured out what was going on and the practice could have continued. Your body hadn’t reached its maximum limit, not even by a little bit. But Hoseok doesn’t answer, instead pulls you to him and holds you so gently like you might shatter from the slightest amount of pressure. It’s only then that you realize you’re crying. He keeps you safely enclosed in his arms, only letting go when your body cools down and starts shivering from the cold.

“Come on,” he says, lifting you up slowly and guiding you back to the church. He keeps a hand against your back the entire way, and you’re sure that if it weren’t there, you would probably fall apart.

 Once indoors, you get in the shower and turn the heat up high so its almost scalding. You scrub at yourself vigorously, trying to erase the memory clinging to your skin of what had happened. Or didn’t happen. Your skin is rubbed red and raw when you emerge, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. There might not be any blood on your hands, but you can still feel it, coating your skin like the remorse festering in your heart.

Hoseok holds out a cup of chamomile tea once you get out and you accept it gratefully.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

You shrug, sitting down on the floor, back against the wall.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Hoseok drops his gaze in shame. “I should have said no-”

“Hobi, stop,” you intercede. “I asked. It’s okay. We both knew it wouldn’t end well. I don’t know what happened out there, usually I’m in more control than that. It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I’m sorry if you felt pressured into something you didn’t want to do, though. I know you don’t like using your abilities, I’m sorry you had to do that." 

"I’ll dial it back next time.” You know even that was tame for what he can do, but you don’t say anything. “Do you want to talk about what you saw?”

You set the tea down on the floor and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. The last thing you want to do is think about what you saw, but talking it out does help sometimes. Sometimes you just need to be alone to grieve. Usually you try talking it out, something Hoseok has encouraged you many times to do so whatever is bothering you doesn’t keep chipping away at you so there’s more to work through than there needs to be.

 "The usual. But it was different this time. Jimin was there too.“ Your cheeks heat up admitting this and you’re not quite ready to ponder over the depth of what it means that he was there too. "There was blood, everywhere. I think-I think I did it. I don’t know. You all kept saying I did. That it was my fault.” Emotion swells in your throat again and you clear it forcefully, unwilling to cry yet again. Crying is good, but you don’t like the gross, puffy feeling that comes afterward that lingers for hours on end. “Maybe you were right, to an extent. Or at least, Jimin was right. He called me a liar. He called me lots of things, actually. And deny it as much as I want, I am lying to him, every single day. What if one of these days he finds out? Or what if one of my lies catches up to me and hurts him? What then?”

Hoseok sits down in front of you and takes your hands. Somehow, Hoseok still has a response to put you at ease, just like always. “You can never predict who is going to get hurt in this world, so you just… Have to trust yourself. Let yourself live a little. Sometimes… Sometimes people are worth the risk. Even if he finds out some day, who’s to say he won’t understand?” He reaches out and lifts your chin so you look at him. His warm smile makes some of the worry you feel subside, and this time you feel yourself getting emotional for another reason.

“People will surprise you. If he cares enough about you, he’ll be willing to look deeper, past the things you’ve done. If he can’t do that, then he’ll be losing someone absolutely incredible, and that’s the greater misfortune in this case,” he says.

“I’m so scared,” you whisper, averting your gaze to your lap. “Sometimes I wonder if this is all worth it. I’m always so scared that one day I’m going to lose you or Jimin, just because of this mission. My parents aren’t coming back. They’re dead and staying dead, even if we succeed. But when I think about giving up it just… They deserve vengeance. I can’t let them go like that. Not when we’ve both risked so much and tried so hard.”

Hoseok rubs his thumb in circles over the back of your palm, a gesture that somehow helps ground you. “I’m not going anywhere, and there’s no need to ever worry about me, alright? If anything ever happened, I would be fine. If you want to continue fighting, we’ll fight. If you want to let this mission go, we’ll let it go. And in terms of Jimin, you’re doing what you can to protect him. If you think it’s right to let him go, then do what you have to do. But don’t let him go because you’re afraid. Only do what you think is the smart move. If… If you feel the need to tell him about everything that we’re doing and what we are, then I won’t hold it against you.”

 This really surprises you. “You’d be okay with that?”

“If you thought that was a necessary choice to make, then yes. Of course.”

“You know you’re the best, right?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I try. Now, come on, let’s turn that frown upside down. Get in your PJs and we’ll watch whatever movie you want. I’ll make popcorn.”

You end up watching a depressing romance movie, which has you sobbing by the end, and you’re sure you catch Hoseok trying to discreetly wipe away a tear at some point. It feels good to have a release like that, even though you’re just crying over a movie. 

Neither of you has the energy to move off the couch after the movie, so you lie your head down on Hoseok’s lap, and the two of you talk for a while until your responses become slower and eventually you’re both in dreamland. You doze restlessly (as one does when they’re sleeping on somebody else) and after a couple hours force yourself to get up and get in bed. Hoseok opens his eyes, looking at you groggily before passing out once more.

You don’t dream, thankfully, because you’re sure if you had they would probably be nightmares. When you wake up, the guilt hits you again like a shit ton of bricks. You pull your pillow over your head, pressing it tightly against you, hoping that maybe you could squeeze it out of your body, even though the thought is completely ridiculous. You try to go back to sleep so that maybe you won’t have to think about it, but once you’re up, you’re up. So you haul yourself out of bed and eat breakfast, talk to Hoseok, and do everything you normally would do. You refuse to just hole up and let your feelings rot and stink up your head. You have to keep yourself busy.

Hoseok suggests going for a walk, and you almost can’t get your shoes on fast enough. You know you’re supposed to meet with Jimin today since he wasn’t able to make it the day before and any other day you would be out the door, leaving a trail of fire behind you from excitement. But today is different. You knew since yesterday that you wouldn’t be going. Which makes you feel worse, but you need time to yourself. Reality is beginning to catch up to you and run as you might it’s going to gain on you eventually and force you to make a choice. Do you accept the risks of keeping Jimin in your life, or do you walk away now before either of you gets too attached? The thought of having to cut him off hurts. He’s the first friend you’ve ever had and you honestly feel like the luckiest person in the world to have the privilege of knowing him. 

A part of you hopes that whatever kept Jimin busy yesterday keeps him busy today too so he doesn’t end up waiting for you, only for you not to show up. Hoseok falls into step beside you. The autumn air has a bite to it, but you’re glad because it keeps you alert and ready for anything. It also calms your mind and you can stop thinking, just for a little bit. Neither of you really has a destination in mind, which is fine. You probably won’t end up going very far since you’re on foot and you don’t want to completely abandon everything. You just need a temporary escape to get your head on straight. Eventually you have to face the music and tackle reality, but for now you focus on the chill in the air, the damp grass under your feet, and Hoseok’s familiar stride beside you.

“Has this place changed much since the first time we came here?” You suddenly ask him.

Hoseok looks around and you wonder what he sees. You can’t remember much of the journey to the church since you were so young. The days had blended together in a haze of grief and foreign sights – places that extended far past the boundary around your home that your parents laid out for you. You wonder what the experience had been like for him and whether it’s tainted by the same things, or if he saw it as the beginning of something new and exciting.

Sometimes you think that you adopted the same precautions your parents did; after all, you established boundaries for yourself. Boundaries around the church and boundaries around your heart that nobody could slip through. Well, until Jimin.

“Everything changes,” Hoseok says. “That’s just a part of life. But the forest has always felt the same. Every now and then I’m reminded of when I found you. Especially around this time of year. ” He looks at you. “We’ve changed. For the better, mostly. I’m proud of you, you know. Even after everything you’ve been through, you became the strongest, bravest, kindest person I know.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” you say, nudging him a little. “Would you ever re-do it all? You had a life before this and then all of a sudden you had this kid to take care of. Do you ever regret it?”

He shakes his head. “Never. If I had to re-do my decision, I would choose the same path again. I will never regret you.”

While you’re on the subject, you ask a question that you almost steer clear of. There’s almost an unspoken rule that the subject is to never be brought up. The moment feels right, so you take the risk, even though you know chances are he’ll avoid answering and switch to another subject. “Do you ever think about your family?”  

“You are my family.”

“Hoseok.”

He hesitates and for a second you think he’s going to end the conversation there. It’s rare for Hoseok to open up fully about his family, so when he does, you treasure the moments deeply. He’s open about pretty much everything in life, apart from what happened in his past. All you know is that his family is dead, but he never gets into the details. There’s so much you don’t know about him, about the Dark Court he fled and why he fled. Whenever you try to broach the topic with him, he shuts it down in two seconds flat. So you proceed with caution. You want to know more about him, to understand him better, but you know that if you say the wrong thing, the moment will be over. He won’t open up like this again for a long time.

“No, I try not to.”

“Do you miss them?”

“No.”

 "No?“

 "After the things they did… I don’t know how I could.”

You chew on your lip, facing forward, not daring to look at him. If you do, he might get uncomfortable and stop talking. You’re not only glad that he’s opening up to you, but you’re also glad that he’s finally, maybe, going to talk about it. It’s not hard to tell that he has tried to bury dark secrets, and you know how that can feel. You know how secrets can eat you alive if you don’t talk about them.

 "What happened?“ You prompt him carefully.

You glance over at him, briefly to check his expression, and see something in his eyes shift, the way people get when they’re transported to another time, not quite seeing what’s in front of them.

"I fell in love with a boy from the Summer Court. We kept our relationship a secret, because we knew that if anybody found out, all hell would break loose. The Dark Court only has enemies, never allies. They are always ready for war. The fuse is ready, somebody just needs to give them an excuse to light it. But the Summer Court will do anything to avoid war. I was one of the Queen’s personal guards and he was the heir to the Summer King’s throne. It would be the ultimate betrayal.

"I wanted out of the Dark Court, but there was no way I could do it alone. We both knew we had to involve as few people as possible and keep things quiet since it was such a huge risk. And honestly, I would have taken all the risks just to be with him. He was worth that. But I made the mistake of turning to my family for help. They turned us in, he was killed along with the rest of them, and so the war between the Summer and Dark Court began.”

"Hoseok, I’m so sorry,” you say. “I can’t believe they would do something so horrible to you.”

He lets out a deep sigh, as though he were finally letting out all the air he’d been holding inside himself for years. “They thought they were doing the right thing. It’s awful, but that’s the way Dark fey think. Things work differently for us. For them. There is no such thing as mercy, which makes them very dangerous. If you ever come across Dark fey, promise me you’ll run like hell. Don’t fight, don’t try to reason with them. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back.”

“I will.” Hoseok taught you many years ago what Dark fey look like, assuring you that if you ever saw one, you’d know it was Dark fey without a shadow of a doubt. Dark fey’s appearance takes on the form of everything they believe in. Nightmares, darkness, death. Their exterior is disfigured and everything on the inside, everything they stand for, mirrors the outside. You once asked Hoseok why he doesn’t look like Dark fey. If he hadn’t told you, you would’ve never known what he was. He told you he made a deal with the Summer King, who would rid Hoseok of his physical atrocities in exchange for information about the Dark Court that might help with the war. Now that you know more of the story, you look at Hoseok in a new light. To go to the Summer Court was a big risk and they could have easily turned him away. You now understand the pained expression he had when he told you all of this years ago. Though you want to tell him that none of this is his fault, that had his family not done what they did this would never have happened, you think it wouldn’t help, so you leave it. You just hope that in the future if he needs to talk, he knows that you’re ready to listen.

As you walk further, you think over his story, trying to find the silver lining. Something about it gives you hope. If a Summer and a Dark faerie could somehow manage to overcome their differences and love one another wholeheartedly, what’s to say Jimin couldn’t accept you? Sure, he comes from the human world where supernatural things aren’t exactly 'normal’, but hopefully he would be able to see it in himself to try and see things from your point of view. Purely in a platonic sense, of course. If things ever come to that.

As you walk, Hoseok tells you a bit more about the Dark Court, about the wonderful things he learned about the Summer Court, about the boy he had fallen in love with. You wish you could have seen Hoseok back then. Seen the happiness that must have lit up his face when he was with the boy. You want to close the subject on a good note, ending with happy memories rather than sad ones, so you ask him what it felt like to be in love. 

 A tiny smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he undoubtedly recalls fond memories from the past. Bingo. “It felt like light had been restored to the world. His laughter could make flowers bloom and his smile… I lived for that smile. I would have given anything just for him to be happy every day of his life. He made me want to be a better person. Somehow he saw through all the darkness and all the horrors that made me who I was. He helped me see myself for who I could be.

"Anything that happened, he would be the first person I wanted to tell. I wanted to share my life with him. Every detail of it. Every time I looked at him, my heart felt like it might burst from all the love it was carrying. He changed my life and I’ll never forget him. You never forget your first love.” Hoseok’s glazed over eyes seem to clear and you can tell he’s coming back to reality. “He taught me a lot of important lessons and he taught me that not everybody always needs to have an ulterior motive when doing something. People should be willing to lend a hand in exchange for nothing, to help without being owed anything in return. He was that kind of person. He gave so much of himself to the world, and he had so much more to give–”

He breaks off, going completely still. “Did you hear that?”

You frown. “No, what?”

His eyes flick around the forest and you both strain to hear whatever he just heard. You don’t say anything in case there is someone out there and it draws attention to you. Of course, neither of you is doing anything wrong, but you can never really tell who your friends and who your enemies are. There could either be an innocent hiker out there, or somebody you’ve upset along the way with your mission. But the silence stretches on and you’re beginning to think that maybe Hoseok heard a bird or something.

Then everything explodes in a sea of sound. Gunshots split the air and Hoseok is yelling at you to run. You draw the gun out from your pocket, shooting without aiming in any particular direction. You can’t see who is shooting, which puts you at a severe disadvantage.

 A bullet grazes your leg and you nearly trip over, but you manage to catch yourself just in time. Hoseok shouts your name and you spin around to face him. You didn’t realize how far he was. “Behind you!”

You don’t have time to react, to so much as see your captor before everything goes black.

and i think to myself (what a wonderful world)

Written for Day 7 of NurseyDex Week 2017 - “Future NurseyDex”


The twins are talking to each other over the baby monitor.

Spooned around his back in a long line of heat, Will tightens his arms briefly, then bites Derek’s shoulder. “Your kids are awake,” he mumbles.

Derek cracks his eyes open, looks at the clock, and then groans, shoving his face deeper into the pillow. “Before seven a.m. on a Saturday? Fuck no. Those are your kids.”

Will snorts into his shoulder. “Funny how that works,” he says.

Neither of them move. Over the monitor, Sara jabbers something in baby gibberish, and Omie giggles and talks back. They’re happy, silly kids, as content to talk to each other as they are to spend any time with any of the rest of the family. Still, they’ll need to be changed, and eventually they’ll start whining for breakfast.

Will seems to come to the same conclusion. He pokes Derek’s shin with his bare toes. “Hey,” he says. “If you get up first and let me sleep for another, I’ll eat you out tonight after the kids go to bed.”

“No deal,” Derek says, not opening his eyes. “You’ll do that anyway.”

There’s a huff of a laugh against his neck. “Fair,” Will admits. “But also, like. I got up with them last week?”

“I’m sorry, are you bitching about parenting your children right now?”

“No, I’m bitching that my spouse gets his beauty rest and I haven’t seen the cool side of a pillow after seven-thirty for like, four months.”

Derek rolls over in Will’s arms. “Tough life, buddy,” he says, layering on the saccharine sarcasm. “I’m sorry that your beautiful, loving husband–”

“I already regret this rant,” Will sighs, slinging his arm over Derek’s waist.

“–who literally lives to do nothing but make you happy, who slaved over a hot uterus to give you the children that you now take for granted–”

Will groans, picks up his pillow, and hits Derek in the face with it. Derek cackles and retaliates, grabbing his own. A brief scuffle ensues, and then Will seems to get bored, throwing his pillow aside, taking Derek’s, and leans over him to kiss him, low and deep. Derek hums into it, pleased, and lets Will press him down into the pillow, pressing his fingertips into the bruises he put on Will’s hips last night.

“Dada!” Sara sing-songs over the monitor. “Dada!”

“Baba!” Omie echoes. “Dada-Baba!”

“Three outta five callin’ for you,” Derek says. “Out ya go, buddy.”

Will groans, dropping his face into Derek’s shoulder. “I regret that you ever got good at math,” he sighs, but puts a smacking kiss on Derek’s cheek and gets up.

“Bye,” Derek says, making a cheerful show of re-wrapping himself around his pillow. Will slaps his ass, and Derek grunts. “Don’t start shit you won’t finish, Poindexter.”

“That’s Poindexter-Nurse to you,” Will says.

“You’re damn right,” Derek says. Will smacks his ass again, and then pads out of their bedroom. A few minutes later, Derek hears the twins break out in delighted babbling as Will walks into their room. Smiling, he closes his eyes. He’s still sleepy enough that it’s not long before the warm morning sunlight and the softness of the pillow starts to pull him back down. He can hear Will talking to the babies, can hear them giggling back.

He must fall back into a doze, because the next time he wakes, he smells coffee. It’s close enough that his attention perks, and he picks up his head, basically nose-first, just in time for the bedroom door to open.

Yasmin pokes her head in. “Baba? Are you awake?”

“Mmhm,” he says.

Her face lights up in a smile, and she shuffles into the room. She has a mug carefully held in both hands. “Daddy said to bring you coffee,” she tells him solemnly, coming over to the bed in her Princess Jasmine nightgown.

Derek raises his eyebrows. That’s not Will’s style. “How nice of him,” he says. “Did you sleep well, baby?”

“Uh-huh.” She comes to the bed and puts the mug carefully on his bedside table, and then climbs up into his lap when he sits up. Derek kisses her mussed curls, and she giggles. “Me and the babies were playing with the cats.”

“Yeah?” Derek wraps an arm around her to keep her steady on his lap. “And what did Guinevere think about that?”

Guinevere is their aging golden retriever. She’s immensely tolerant, and the kids adore her, but she’s less exciting than the two cats, Ophelia (or, these days, Ophie) and Puck.

“She didn’t mind. I petted her ears, so.” She pokes his shoulder. “Are you gonna drink your coffee?”

Derek chuckles. “Yeah, sweetheart, thank you.”

He reaches over to the bedside table for the mug. It’s lighter than he expects, and when he lifts it closer to his mouth, he snorts–there’s barely a splash of coffee into it. He looks down at Yasmin, and finds her mouth curved up, a perfect miniature of Will’s smirk. “You,” he tells her, “are a little trickster, aren’t you?”

Yasmin’s smile broadens. “Maybe,” she says, with the crafty slyness only a seven-year-old can manage to make seem charming. Derek raises his eyebrows at her, sipping his meager mugful. “Daddy said to tell you ‘first one’s free.’”

Derek snorts into the cup. “Your daddy,” he says. “Is a menace.”

“Nuh-uh,” she says. “Daddy’s fun.”

“When he wants to be,” Derek allows. He squeezes her close, and then hoists her off his lap. “Alright, babes, off you go. Tell Daddy I’ll be down in a minute.”

She grins at him. “You’re not gonna go back to sleep?”

“I pinky promise I will not,” he says, and Yasmin giggles.

“Okay, Baba.” She takes his mug away from him, though, because she’s Will’s child at heart and therefore knows all the best ways to chirp at him.

Derek gets out of bed, reaching for the sweatpants he’d tossed to the end of the bed last night. He pulls them on over his boxers, and then he gets to his feet. Yasmin stretches her arms up for him, and Derek chuckles, hoisting her up into his arms.

“Alright, big strong girl,” he says. “Should we go downstairs and see Daddy and the babies?”

“We have to,” she says, faux-solemn. “That’s the only way Daddy’ll give you more coffee.”

Derek laughs, and kisses his daughter’s cheek, and goes to start the day.

anonymous asked:

Ok, so like if they had done an actual cap 3 instead of cw where sam and steve went after bucky and you go to write how that would go down, how would you have had the reunion/recovery go? do you think bucky would' want to be found?

I’m on mobile so I’ll have to format this later and put a read more in, but here’s what I would have wanted. Again, it’s long, I’ve thought about this at length.

We would have seen Steve and Sam, probably in Sam’s apartment reading and rereading files, crossing out leads, there’s a map with locations marked and also crossed out, Sam’s on the phone about another possible lead. Steve looks kinda defeated, it’s been 2 years and still he feels like they’re no closer than they were in 2014. Sam hangs up the phone, sits down next to Steve and says something like “Hey man, when he wants to be found then we’ll find him, and I got a pretty promising lead in Romania that says tin man is ready.” And Steve’s all “Sam, you gotta stop calling him tin man” - but he’s already collecting stuff to get ready to leave. And Sam’s close behind him like “Fine, how’s Robocop? Terminator? Man with the Midas touch?” “His arm isn’t gold Sam, can we go?”

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SS as things said Pt 5
  • Morality: I am now your parent, sorry kid can't do a thing about it. Dinner'll be ready at 5
  • Prince: My hair looks great, therefore I win this argument.
  • Logic: Why are you mixing biology and football, that is like mixing a gift from above ever with Satan
  • Anxiety: If this is right I'll high five myself, if it's wrong I'll cry.
Alec Lightwood Christmas Imagine: Miracle Night

Requested

Summary: Reader wants make cookies and Alec offers help even though he has never been nice to reader. They have good time and end up watching movies, which will lead them to something even better.

Word count: 1947


Originally posted by cloudycassy

“By the angel! This is nightmare!” I muttered under my breath as I opened another shelf, but there was no flour. 

I moved to the last one, praying to find it there. As I opened it, I smiled to myself and took out the pocket with flour.

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