#but please be aware that attitude and language over these harsh truths are things that are important
Note
i see all your grieviances with s14 and i do get where you're coming from, but everything you see as negative and tiring i see it as... well, not positive, but not the worst thing that has happened. characters being in a stalemate is still much better than reversing back like what happened with s9. it is tiring, but i don't mind the waiting if i can see the light at the end of the tunnel. some got advantages in the race while others are still behind. have some patience, they'll get there.
Whoever sent this, I’d like to think we’ve probably talked before. And I’d like to agree with all the points you’ve made, the sentiment. My gut tells me as much... but like, I’m beyond weary, you know? I’ve been in the race for a long ass time. And to see people talk about the state of Destiel like it potentially isn’t very, very similar to what the meta community (and fandom) has already been through, what I personally have already been accused of for years…?? It’s like watching old history unfold into yet another heartbroken bloodbath.
And yeah we’ve come so far from S9 and the quick downward regression, but like… Dabb could still follow straight down Carver’s path (which didn’t end well for Cas fans). Dabb’s faced with a similar problem, prolonging the show past a certain “vision”, and is now being “forced” into the same “stalling route” as his predecessor. And I can tell he knows and doesn’t necessarily want it, given his past pacing decisions. But he has hit the proverbial turn signal just the same. There’s only two ways to go. You take the exit to loop back around or you take the exit after, the one that leads to the road that takes you home. I don’t think we’re quite heading home just yet.
And there’s so much I wanna say but can’t because of what I know that others don’t, what I’ve experienced that other meta writers haven’t, stuff I’ve heard with my own two ears from the people actually making the show. It’s… just different after stuff like this happens. It’s why I don’t actively write meta essays like I used to, on the subjects I used to, and especially not with the language I used to. I feel I simply can’t, knowing some of the things I do and also knowing how much that knowledge can quickly become useless anyway. I’m not interested in leading anyone on and so this is where I’m left.
When all is said and done, I just didn’t want to leave it at no one said just how badly, just how reductive everything could still go… It’s my own worry and my personal feelings, so I’m saying it now, even if it puts a damper on things for some people. Meta writers love to say, “It’s exactly what we’ve been saying!”, and “Look at all the times we were right!” (these are… not good things to say btw… I’d know because I used to say them, a lifetime before I ever talked to any writers or production staff, and I can say I regret them now). No one ever likes to say, “Oh, man, was I fucking wrong as hell here.” But that was me after 9x03 aired and I personally had to face the part I played in the Destiel fandom’s disappointment. Because I thought I knew then what I was talking about. But I didn’t know shit. I… misjudged. Hordes of people left fandom after that as Carver took an exit I don’t think anyone was really prepared for in order to “buy time”. And I was left to explain to those that remained exactly what was happening (a mirror-filled narrative of lovers separated by duty that was painted against a rape metaphor that is, still, today, the worst thing Supernatural has ever done to its brand imo) because I was like, the only structural Destiel meta writer left standing.
I looked… delusional, having to point out what was happening to other characters to figure out and explain how Sam, Dean, and Cas all felt (because the narrative was coding itself to where this was necessary to try and understand what was even happening at times, since the characters were all either lying or saying the “wrong things”!), what we were *actually* dealing with, whether the Destiel narrative still existed as a structural romantic thing or not. Not everyone agreed, but I felt I was right in my analysis then, still do; the show is forever written a certain way (tho narrative mirrors do not a textual and tangible narrative make!), but my expectations… they had shifted. The shift remains, still, along with a pestering voice that will never go away, “But what if?”
It’s the reason I only deal in the tangible, textual narrative now, or, at least when it comes to discussing Dean and Cas. I’ve learned the hard way that nothing else matters. Because the truth is it doesn’t.
Supernatural’s narrative structure is a structure I’ve studied more closely than perhaps any other pro-Destiel meta writer past or present. Almost everyone that has come before me has left. Few remain. I don’t know many who write “meta” now. Do they even know the structural writers that came before me? (Flutie? Sara?) I don’t know this either, most of their stuff has been wiped from this blue hellscape. That I do know. And no one writes sourced essays anymore, especially ones at great length, that aren’t just a speckling of themes and musings that often contradict one another.
Hell, I might be the last one still writing from the “golden age of meta” on tumblr, back from the surgence of S8. And while I wouldn’t say everything in the structure is *exactly* as before (there’s been significant textual gains over the mirror narrative, what’s actually needed before the end), but I do see things now taking a similar route as they did then, especially if by the mid season finale point Dabb has Michael!Dean kill the ailing and seemingly finally killable Jack. Depending on how it’s written, Jack’s death could set Dean back a lot, like… A LOT. He’d see it as him finally becoming his father, the best of intentions to protect gone very, very wrong.
Maybe I’m wrong.
Maybe that won’t happen.
I hope I’m wrong anyway, but I don’t think I am.
Impatient as I am for the end, because I don’t want the detour I fear we are about to take (and I do want to talk about the finished product when we get it finally!), and as much as I appreciate the reassurance, I don’t say any of this needing it. I appreciate it nevertheless. I’m more confident in my opinions now, where before I was blindly, carelessly optimistic in both language and outlook. I simply want to remind people of the truth: we’ve been here before, it didn’t end well then and I doubt it will end well now (here, in the present), for everyone who is left…. so please, PLEASE manage your character development expectations, especially those that are tied into hope for text over Destiel. Jokes about being joined “at the everything” aren’t good for anything, no more than Crowley saying to Dean that he’s like his mistress, because he’s “cheating on Sam” with him. In fact, I’d argue it’s reductive. I don’t think I’d be alone in that.
The things they need to do to pull the Destiel narrative into text…the writers aren’t doing, but it very much is tied into the stalling tactic Dabb has chosen nonetheless. Dean *has* to get past the ghost, the trauma of John Winchester. That’s first. Everything else is after. I doubt we’ll even be that far this season. You’ll know when/if a textual Destiel narrative starts to happen. I’d like to think the windup will become obvious (hint: they’ll actually have scenes together). But wherever we are, with Dean’s last developmental hurdle (as decided by Dabb with S14) and Cas’ need for Heaven closure still staring us in the faces as more proverbial unboiled water left on the stove, we’re just not there yet. And please remember, there’s always room for this to be a tragedy. People always seem to forget that.
Maybe not the meta history lesson you were looking for (which honestly has nothing to do with me separately finding the narrative slow and boring), but thanks for coming by anyway.
#Anonymous#ask zerbe#meta writing#9x03 for ts#9x03 mention for ts#queerbaiting for ts#destiel for ts#these two#end of the road#long post for ts#meta writing history#it’s no secret that i dont care for what the meta community has become#but please be aware that attitude and language over these harsh truths are things that are important#another mirror proves nothing#what the GA says means nothing#ratings mean nothing#i know because these are the things i used to talk about before coming to realize supernatural isn’t writing by these rules#i don’t know if there’s anyone left who actually cares what i have to say#because i’m not saying what’s strictly positive or otherwise popular#but i’d like to think my opinion is one steeped in a deep understanding of the history of the show#an opinion of caution because i still care when people are disappointed#even when i come across as harsh or otherwise mocking#it’s not without a lack of heart#for what matters#this needs a read more but i’m on mobile so i’ll have to add it later
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"it’s been months since we broke up and i just found one of your old sweatshirts in my wardrobe and it’s making me miss you" nikolai x reader with a happy ending pls?
A/n: I can't help myself but give my best man a happy ending, sorry not sorry. Hope you like it x
Warnings: angst, confrontation, happy ending
Word count: 2K
Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofshield, @for-bebbanburg, @randomoutsiders, @pansysgirlfriend, @hannaxmaria, @vintagebitc, @story-scribbler, @crowssixof, @odetostep, @lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis (tag list form)
SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST
A knock on the door in the middle of the night wasn't something you were expecting to happen. Merely because you were not expecting anyone. Even though, to be fair, it wasn't that late. And considering how everyone's so busy these days, with the Darkling threat looming over your heads, everyone is required to put in some work to plan a strategy that will assure our victory. Or at least, to contain the damage that surely the Shadow Summoner had planned to inflict upon those who had betrayed him.
Sleep was a luxury these days, so really, you shouldn't have been surprised by someone calling for you. Sighing, you walked to the door wrapping your robe around your body.
When your eyes fell onto the person behind the door, you froze. Now this, was a surprise.
You definitely weren't expecting your ex-boyfriend to knock on your door in the middle of the night a month after your break up.
"Nikolai?" the surprise was clear in your voice as well as weariness. If he was here that meant that something terrible must have happened.
"Were you sleeping?" he shuffled on his feet. As if seeing at your door after all this time wasn't baffling enough, his insecurity certainly was.
You shook your head. "Has something happened?"
"Yes," he said rolling his shoulders back. You stood taller as well, bracing for the bad news. "it’s been months since we broke up and I just found one of your old sweatshirts in my wardrobe and it’s making me miss you," he added and pulled something from behind his back.
It was your sweatshirt indeed, one of your favourites, certainly the most comfortable one. One that you usually used to sleep but it was also the one that you had left in his rooms. The break-up had been sudden in the sense that it had been a long time in the making but the bubble had broken abruptly, leaving you no time to retrieve your stuff.
Well, you could have gone to him and ask for your things but you had spent the last month trying to avoid him.
"Nikolai-" now your words were tentative, a slight warning in them. There was a reason why things had ended, after all.
"No, please, just hear me out." There was no insecurity in his voice anymore, nor in his body language. You knew the man in front of him, painfully aware of how stubborn he was. And the truth was that you had missed him too. Being so close to him and yet so far away had been one of the hardest things you had to do.
So you relented. With a nod, you let him in your room.
You closed the door and when you turned around you saw him sitting on your bed. You took a couple of step towards him but decided to stand at a safe distance from him. Nikolai's eyes were on you and you shifted on your feet under his gaze.
"What's there left to say?" You spoke since he didn't. His presence was unnerving enough on its own, embarrassing silence wasn't a surplus you needed.
"I'm aware of why we broke up, what you think. But I need you to know that it was a huge misunderstanding." He said, squaring his shoulders.
You scoffed, crossing your arms on your chest. "Really? And you waited a month to clear the air?"
"It wouldn't have been fair to you for me to have this conversation before." He stated as if he was during one of his diplomatic meetings.
"Because all this time, you've still been flirting with her."
"I wouldn't put it like that..." He slightly grimaced, his eyes leaving yours for the first time to move to his hands.
"Courting, wooing, pursuing, whatever Nikolai. I don't care how you'd put it. I don't care about what you do with her either." Gesturing with your hands, you sneered at his audacity. He wasn't going to get out of this on semantics. Nonetheless, it was over and you didn't want to show just how aggravated seeing him with Alina made you. "It's none of my business." You shook your head and moved towards your window, giving him your back.
"Well, maybe you don't care but I do. Maybe what I have to tell you won't change a thing but I need to at least try." He raised his voice, frustration clear in his words for your attitude. But you couldn't care less, you had just started. "Because this past month without you has been hell and I don't want to spend another day without you." His voice trembled a bit at the end and you knew that it wasn't easy for him to be this vulnerable with you.
"Don't tell Alina that." You teased him in a neutral tone. Back still to him.
"Alina doesn't care, y/n. And neither do I."
"Could have me fooled."
"It would have been a political union." Frustrated, he pointed out. You turned around this time, scoffing at the implicit insult.
"That much I had guessed, Nikolai." You weren't stupid. And you knew Nikolai. As soon as the first wave of pain and betrayal passed, you realized that it must have been a strategic move on his part. Not that it made anything better.
"You...did?" He almost stammered, eyes widening in surprise.
"Of course," you sighed, "but it doesn't make anything better. So if this is all you had to say, I'm afraid it doesn't change anything."
"But- it changes everything. I don't love Alina, I never have." He insisted, standing up from the bed and taking a step in your direction.
"You would have still married her though, wouldn't you?" You pointed out with a rhetorical question that he still felt like answering.
"Well, I-"
"And you didn't tell me anything, did you?" You continued this time without giving him time to speak. "So yes, maybe you didn't love her. Maybe you loved me but would that matter once you were married to her?"
"I'll tell you: no it wouldn't have. Because as much as I loved you, I wouldn't have let you made me your mistress. And you and Alina are good friends, I'm sure you'd grow to love her with time." Your voice has hardened, failing at carelessly exposing an eventual love blooming between them. But Nikolai didn't notice. He was still at the second sentence.
"Loved?"He whispered. Past tense.
"Did you expect me to hold a torch forever?" Your voice softened at his reaction but still- you weren't going to be around forever. He had made his choice, after all.
"Of course not," Nikolai mumbled as he sat down on the bed again and looked down at your sweatshirt still in his hands. You couldn't see his face and you knew that it was a deliberate move. Never had you seen him to defeated and crestfallen. His shoulders slumped, his fingers fisted the material in his hands.
Sighing, you closed the distance between you and sat beside him on the bed. Maybe you had been too harsh but it was an instinct for you to be so defensive. Even though his betrayal had hurt you immensely, hurting him back was never your intention.
"I don't think I could ever stop loving you." You whispered. Eyes latched on your fumbling fingers, you heave a sigh. This felt like the confession it was.
"But you can't expect me to be fine just because you explained Nikolai. It doesn't excuse the lies or the betrayal." You continued, wanting him to understand. Now that everything was out in the open, it was best to speak heart to heart.
"Indeed it doesn't. And I'm sorry I've hurt you, it was never my intention." He agreed and apologised but you shook your head. What good was it an apology now? It wasn't a matter of forgiveness anymore. There was now a lack of trust and you didn't know how to handle it.
"How do you think I would have reacted? What if she said yes, uh? What then, Nikolai? Would an "I love you" fix everything?" Speaking no matter the lump of your throat, you turned to face him. His eyes were already on you. They were glossy and one of his hands reached out to yours to hold it.
"I knew she was going to say no. And I knew that it was a low move on my part considering that you're my whole heart but I couldn't have lived with myself if I didn't at least try," he confessed. You nodded because you knew how much he cared for Ravka's future and having Alina on the throne would no doubt have a positive impact on all fronts.
"Because having her on the throne would have been advantageous for us, for Ravka. It would benefit us in so many ways that I had to try, at least. No matter the sacrifice." The last word came out as a whisper, his eyes flickering between yours and you understood the underlying message. But that was exactly the problem.
"What hurt me the most, Nikolai was that you made the decision for both of us."
"I'm not a strategist but I understand the power Alina holds. It would have still hurt but if you had told me, it would have been different." You explained as his eyes filled with an emotion that you recognized as regret.
"I'm sorry, y/n. I never wanted you to feel like you don't matter to me. Because you do. You have no idea how much you do. And I love you, I really do." His hold on your hands tightened and you were surprised to see how his lower lip trembled a bit.
"I love you too, Kolya." You confessed, unable to pretend the contrary. "But I don't know where to go from here."
"You don't owe me anything, my sweet. I wanted you to know and now you do. That's more than I deserve." One of his hands came up to caress your cheek as he gave you a small smile. You actually leaned to him, missing the touch, the closeness.
You missed him.
And yes, he had made a mistake. Yes, he had hurt you. But was it to the point of no return? To be fair, you knew that nothing had actually happened between him and Alina besides the proposal. And sure, that was certainly enough on its own but in a way that meant that it hadn't actually cheated.
He had surely betrayed your trust and lied to you. But trust could be regained. And work could be done on your relationships so as not to have these communication problems again.
The question is: were you willing to put yourself through that? Because it was not going to be easy. And there was a chance that it wasn't going to work.
His eyes boring on yours, you hoped to convey your insecurity to him. You knew he loved you. And you dearly loved him too. Maybe you could give him a second chance. If love was there maybe it was worth it to put in the effort to make it work.
Scratch that- it definitely was.
"What about what I deserve?" You whispered as your hands wrapped around his on your face.
"Everything and more, my love." His eyes flickered between yours hopefully. Trying to see if he could find the confirmation in them of what your words implied.
"Well, I think that I deserve a prince." You stated with a small smile.
"Even if he's unworthy of you?" He insisted, raising an eyebrow but mirroring your smile.
"I guess I can give him another chance to prove himself."
"He'd be most grateful, my dear. But I'm afraid he'll never deserve you." His face got closer to yours, nose almost touching. He cradled your face in his hands, his thumb stroking your cheeks.
"Enough with the charming, Kolya, I'm already yours. Come and get me." You chuckled with a roll of your eyes before eagerly tugging him closer to you.
"As you wish." He said before he kissed you. Slowly at first, almost as if he couldn't still believe that it was happening. Then with the hold on your face, he pulled you closer angling your face so as to deepen the kiss.
Your old sweatshirt laid discarded on your bedroom floor. Forgotten for the moment as you caught up on your lost time together.
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov angst#nikolai lanstov imagine#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov one shot#grishaverse#shadow and bone
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Some Day One Day (Brian May x Reader); Part 2.
taglist: @brighter-thanthe-sky @im-a-sheerheartattack @fruityfreddie @discodeacygotmorerhythm (If you want to be added please message me)
If you still haven’t read part 1 just look up ‘Some day one day’ within my tags, I tag every fan fiction under the name of the series
Feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy :)
Y/N probably would never admit it to anyone else other than her own subconscious, but she soon started finding the coursework more demanding than she’d initially expected and things started getting a bit out of control for her, making her doubt her choice of a lifetime. At first everything seemed to be going great, she’d made a good impression on Mr. May who knew just how far to push her and the rest of the class so that they could learn new things without tiring them out, but at some point Y/N started losing track of her progress and falling behind unexpectedly.
She didn't even know the reason for all of her mental confusion, but she assumed it was just stress due to all her other classes and assignments and trying to keep up with her social life as well, which is something that most students struggle with, but she was probably just suffering more from it.
All of a sudden the numbers on her papers got mixed up with letters from ancient languages that she struggled to give meaning to and her grades kept dropping like never before, leaving her an anxious mess on her apartment floor every Thursday and Friday after class, wondering why she couldn't just get the fucking answer right and why the fuck it all seemed so fucking fucked up (her own words). Truth is, she wasn't used to failing. She’d been the best pupil of the bunch ever since third grade and, while she truly didn't care too much about being the best at everything, she was used to doing the bare minimum and still getting great results, this simply wasn't the case and she didn't know how to handle the truth of the situation, nor did she know how to break it to her parents that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't meant for astrophysics.
She’d never hear the end of it, they would assume she was giving up on life altogether and she’d be in deep shit.
Mr. May (he’d told his class that his first name was Brian, but he still expected to be addressed properly in the formal environment of the college campus) had noticed a shift in her attitude, she had always had a sparkling personality in class, raising her hand and proving all the annoying geniuses wannabe wrong when they thought she couldn't figure the answer out and she provided the right one each and every single time. And Brian was so happy with her, he really was, because he’d started to like the girl, he’d started to like the way her eyes lit up when they approached a new topic in class and she wanted to know all about it within the first half hour. He’d sometimes laughed at her enthusiasm, but as the days went by and it started to wear out and be replaced by hollow looking eyes, he realized how much he really missed it.
Every student was struggling, that's just the way it was meant to work and he knew it. He'd been assigned this course five years prior, so he wasn't new to the job or anything and he was aware that even the smartest of students were bound to have issues, that's what the tutoring sessions were for, but although some of them had quit and given up on the subject altogether, none of them seemed so torn by their grades as she did.
It literally broke his heart to have to give her another bad grade after each test, especially when rewarding her hard work was so much more enthusiastic, but there was close to nothing he could do about it so he just let the look on her face get sadder each day, wondering where he went wrong. Was he really such a bad teacher? He wanted all his students to succeed but maybe he was doing something to prevent that.
“Okay class, good morning and welcome back. So, today you were supposed to hand in your quantum physics assignment, which I hope you all found reasonable enough to finish. I expect it on my desk by the end of class, is everyone good with that?” He spoke while fixing his glasses back on his slim nose and pushing his long curly hair out of his face so he could see better, something he tended to do whenever he started his lecture.
His big and attentive eyes scanned the room as he softly smiled at his students and their barely awake faces that he had grown so accustomed to. His eyes lingered a bit longer on a certain person though, he’d been keeping an eye on her for some time after all and he watched her from afar, trying to understand what was going on inside her beautiful mind. Y/N wanted to disappear as soon as the words left her professor’s lips, as she realized she’d completely forgotten about that one assignment, too busy trying to finish the one from the week prior, which she still had to hand in.
Mr. May had been kind enough to give her a pass for once, considering she’d always been on top of her game with handing things in and such, but she was sure that this time around he wouldn't be as understanding and she was admittedly quite scared of talking to him. The lesson went on as normal, they were covering the topic of interplanetary dust and learning all the basics about it since they were then expected to do a whole research about it as part of their final exam.
Y/N was trying her hardest to focus on the enormous blackboard stuck to the wall in front of her, but a little voice inside her head kept reminding her that she was a failure and she absolutely did not deserve to be in the same class as some of the smartest people from her college. She was just another average girl who’d gotten lucky and who had never developed actual skills for the subject, she didn't even know why she was aiming so high-
“Miss Y/L/N, is everything okay?” his voice had managed to catch her attention fully and she sat up straight and just nodded back at Mr. May, hoping he’d let her get away with her lack of concentration once again, but apparently he had different plans.
“Will you stay for a while after class, miss? I want to talk to you briefly” his eyes were stern as he let her know that she was in trouble, and understandably so. He probably wanted to kick her out of his class at that exact moment.
She deserved to fail. She couldn't think of anything else and she spent the last hour of lecture fidgeting with her own fingers and trying to take some notes on whatever it was that was written on the blackboard, while harshly scratching her face with her nails every once in a while out of frustration and nervousness. Time went by faster than she’s hoped, and while everyone stopped by the professor’s desk to hand in their work before leaving the hall to finally talk about something that didn't involve physics, she slowly walked over to him and waited for him to say goodbye to all the other students.
“Where’s your homework, Miss?” He was talking directly at her this time and she knew she couldn't hide anymore.
“I’m sorry Mr. May, I completely forgot about it until you mentioned it earlier today, it won’t happen again”
“But this is not even the first time something like this happens to you, if I’m not mistaken I gave you a pass last week for the same reason, what is going on with you?” He couldn't help but raising his voice a little towards the end, she’d begun the semester so well and here she was, throwing all her hard work away.
“I’m sorry, it was just distraction and nothing else, I don’t know where my mind is lately” Y/N tried to joke although it came out a bit choked since she was holding back tears from all the anger and frustration she was going through, but Brian could tell that something else was up with her and he couldn't just ignore it and let her get back to her self destructive means.
“I can see that something is bothering you and taking a toll on you, I don't want to intrude, but I’m truly worried about whatever it is that’s making you behave this way Miss. You used to be one of my best students, what the hell is going on now?” He was getting carried away and although he could hear it in his voice himself, he was coming from a place of care and wasn't able to stop himself to think about the consequences of his harsh sounding voice, so it took him by surprise when the girl in front of him bursted into tears.
#Brian May#Brian May x reader#queen fandom#queen#queen imagines#queen x reader#borhap#bohemian rhapsody#fanfiction#writeblr#some day one day
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Avenge.
Pairings | Avengers x F!Reader
Word Count | 1,878 words
Warnings | INFINITY WAR SPOILERS, language, angst
Summary | The worse has happened and the reader just cannot deal with the pain.
It had happened.
Everything that everyone had been fighting for was all for naught.
The sound of the golden metal fingers connecting in a snap was haunting, not to mention the fact that it seemed to stop time with the echo that followed. Everyone came to a stop that was in the immediate area of Thanos as he disappeared, no one truly knowing what happened. Steve demanded to know what happened, his voice rough and very obviously worried.
The war happening back in the main area of Wakanda raged on, though not for long. Bucky had wandered from the battlefield to find and assist Steve, but as he made it his body felt different - not like it had ever felt before. He started to stumble more and more with each step he took, finally reaching the area where Steve, Wanda, Vision, and several others had been. "Steve?" He called as the super soldier's eyes landed on him, almost falling over. Before Steve could even think to respond, Bucky slowly turned to nothing more than a dust pile before him. A knowing expression fell upon Steve as he realized what was happening, tears filling in his eyes; how could he have let this happen?
Carnage surrounded Wakanda, full of dead human bodies and alien bodies alike, before the majority of the survivors turned randomly to dust - even the king, T'Challa. There were very few survivors. Steve, Rhodey, Rocket, Thor, Bruce, and Natasha were amongst the only heroes on Earth to survive. It was no better in space, specifically on Titan.
Tony was the only original Avenger left standing on Titan, only with Nebula seeming to survive with him. Strange, Drax, Mantis, both Peters, all gone. The amount of pain Tony was in as Peter - Spiderman - died in his arms was so overwhelming that he couldn't even register it. All Tony could manage to do was mourn into his hands, silently cursing himself for ever involving a child. Wanda had given him a vision of all of his friends dead before him - back when Ultron was a threat - and now that it was real, he didn't know what to do.
Back on Earth, [Y/N] curled into a ball against a tree as salty tears ran down her face to mix with dirt and blood. She had been in the immediate area and witnessed the deaths of Vision, Wanda, and Bucky. Part of her begged silently to be taken in place of them, her heart full of pain. "We need to go," Steve ordered with a booming authority, "I said get up, [Y/N]!" He never yelled before, not really, so this sudden anger made her flinch. It was evident that he was trying to hide his agony, though that was no excuse.
The next few months were full of anguish and regret on the survivors, but after the civil war that happened to break the Avengers apart, it was enough to mend the bullet holes. Steve and Tony began talking again, trying to find anyway to reverse the damage with the help of Bruce. Natasha was reunited with Clint, and the two worked on reforming Clint after the death of his family. Rocket and Thor searched the cosmos for Thanos with the help of Nebula, though they had found nothing of interest. [Y/N] was the only person who remained too damaged to function. She hardly spoke to the others, and when she did it was brief.
Every night, [Y/N] would have nightmares involving Thanos. He would torture her friends, the people she loved, in front of her with no mercy - she was never able to save them or do anything. "It's all right, little one," Thanos would coo at her as he ripped the mind stone out of Vision's head over and over with Wanda screaming in the background, "they were holding back your true potential - potential I can unlock. Take my hand and I will lead you to a life without pain." It was always the same. He would beat people she didn't even know, other aliens, down to a pulp and she would cry for him to stop. Dr. Strange was tortured by spikes of ice going into his face, Spiderman beaten until he couldn't breathe, Loki choked out over and over, much more graphic things happened, then it would all start over.
[Y/N]'s response was always the same, in every single recurring nightmare. "I'll never go with you, you sick son of a bitch," she would cry, "just take me and stop torturing them, please!" She would beg, but Thanos never did anything more than smirk. The end of the dream also never varied, it always ended with all of her friends dying. Every time it happened, [Y/N] would wake in a pool of sweat and start crying, unable to sleep the rest of the night. No one was aware this was happening to her, so they couldn't help.
These nightmares lasted for months until [Y/N] finally gave in to what the dream wanted; she told Thanos that she would join him so long as her friends lived. The Mad Titan agreed to these terms, tossing Spiderman to the side to grab her instead - and then the nightmare ended. The terrible dream no longer happened, and sleep was much easier to achieve. Something drastic had changed though, not that it was noticeable to [Y/N]; she felt fine, but the others saw she was far from it.
Knowing nothing of these nightmares that [Y/N] had, they became confused when she would lash out for absolutely no reason. Her personality had changed and she would mutter to herself about killing them, but everyone marked it off as trauma. It was all very bizarre to the other survivors, especially considering [Y/N] had finally come out of her room to socialize. The nightmares, not that anyone knew about them, were gone, so why had [Y/N] changed into someone completely different?
More months passed by and the attitude of [Y/N] only worsened with time. It had become so terrible, in fact, that she had been in several physical altercations with Clint. Everyone had decided that it would be best to contain [Y/N], but upon sharing this information with her, she lost it. "You people will never understand what it was like to lose everything," she yelled in rage, "I loved them, all of them! Yet here I stay, hopeless and lost in this tower in New York, silently praying that this is all just another fucking nightmare." Her words had faded into a whisper, tears rolling slowly down her face as she mourned. "It's never just another nightmare. Hell, maybe Thanos was right after all," she continued after a brief moment, everyone watching on in guilt and confusion, "maybe half of the universe did deserve to die just to prevent anymore pain, but man do I wish it was all of you bastards instead of all of them." With nothing more than a bitter laugh, [Y/N] turned on her heels and began her way back to her room.
Just before [Y/N] reached the top, someone decided to say something. "Another nightmare?" Steve asked simply, his voice low and compassionate despite hearing such harsh words. With bloodshot eyes, [Y/N] turned to the group and smiled grimly. It was only then did they see how broken she was, how tortured she had been, how desperately she wanted everyone back. Her hair was in knots and tangles, her clothing worn and stained, her nails covered in grime. "Why didn't you come to us?" Steve asked after a moment of long silence, taking careful steps towards [Y/N].
Standing completely still, [Y/N] stared at Steve with an intensity he hadn't seen since the war. "Why didn't I come to you? You were the group that never gave a damn about me," she spat once he was close enough, "Wanda always soothed me when I was upset, y'know? She would sing in her first language and rub my back and do whatever she knew would make me feel better. And I would help Peter with his homework even though he never needed it, he always accepted the help." More tears slid down her cheeks. "Vision would teach me things I never knew, and I would teach him to cook. Sam and Bucky would always argue and I would be the one to break it up," she laughed solemnly, "and once I even spoke to Loki about everything from space to his life, and we had fun together." At this point, [Y/N] was a mess of tears in the middle of the room. No one dared to speak or move in fear of angering her, though she needed no persuasion to be angry - she quickly wiped away the tears, her eyes glaring daggers at everyone. "And what have any of you done for me, ever?! I wasn't an original Avenger and that's why you never gave a shit," she pointed at each individual person, "and I tried so hard to get you to notice me. Whenever Steve was around I would always ask to go to the gym with him, but he'd always say he was busy. Clint and Natasha were always too busy to spar with me. Tony and Bruce were always too busy to teach me anything scientific. And Thor was always in space and too busy conquering people that didn't need to be conquered while his brother fought to be his equal. So, to answer your question Steve, I was too busy to come to you." With those last words of truth and anger, [Y/N] stomped back to her room and locked the door.
It took several days after the outburst for anyone to try to communicate with [Y/N]. Steve was the first, of course, and offered to take her out for whatever dinner she desired, but she declined in a rather rude fashion. The next person to offer to take her out for food was surprisingly Clint, but again she declined. Natasha, Bruce, Thor, they all tried to coax [Y/N] from her room and failed. Tony was the only person to not even attempt to comfort [Y/N] after the outburst because he was hurt from her words, true as they may be. It was that famous ego that held him back, so Steve would say, which would only annoy Tony. Finally, he did walk to [Y/N]'s room and offered to get takeout, she accepted. She told him her order through the door, sniffling and hurt, before he left to grab her food.
That was how everything worked from then on; someone would bring [Y/N] food and she would stay locked away. Everyday was the same process over and over again... until Scott Lang offered an option to travel through time. Of course, [Y/N] thought it was impossible, but when it turned out to be truth, [Y/N] promised herself that she would find Thanos when they went back to their own time. She swore to herself that she would be an Avenger, that she would avenge her fallen friends, and that she would be the death of the Mad Titan.
#avengers#Infinity war#Avengers infinity war#Infinity war imagine#Avengers imagine#avengers x reader#steve rogers#tony stark#thor#black widow#clint barton#loki#bucky barnes#t'challa#Bruce Banner#Groot#Rocket#Peter quill#Gamora#Nebula#Mantis#Thanos#Ebony Maw#Corvous Glave#proxima midnight#Cull Obsidian#Black order#Drax#Dr strange#wanda maximoff
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09/26/2018 DAB Transcript
Isaiah 48:12-50:11, Ephesians 4:17-32, Psalms 69:1-18 , Proverbs 24:5-6
Today is the 26th day of September. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I'm Brian. It's, of course, a pleasure and a joy and an honor to be here with you today as we come around the global campfire, come in out of whatever's going on. Set that aside. It’ll still be there, we may look at it different after we spend some time in the word. But we have permission to set aside a little time, step into a new space, calm ourselves, allow God's word to wash over us. And that's what we've come to do and so that's exactly what we will do. We're still working our way through the book of Isaiah in our Old Testament reading. Today we'll read 48:12 - 50:11. And we're reading from the New Living Translation this week.
Commentary:
Okay. So, in our reading from Ephesians today, Paul discussed what we might look like if we were at our very best and how to move in that direction. So, we should all be paying attention because I have never met a person who… I've met lots of people who are taking their lives, who are moving in the wrong direction and spiraling out of control. But I haven't met any person who said, This is exactly what I want. What I really, really want is to spin down the toilet bowl of my life and go down the drain. We all want to move toward our best, especially in terms of our relationship with God. So, Paul talks about this today. But first he talks about what our best is not. Here's what he said. Their minds are full of darkness, they wander far from the life God gives because they have closed their minds and hardened their hearts against him. So, according to Paul, a closed mind and a hard heart is not the way forward. And obviously this will be true. Paul's entire premise throughout his ministry is that faith is the activator for renewal. And that faith is the only path that will lead us to God. And so true faith is not something that we can do half-heartedly. And it's not something that we can do with a divided heart. True faith requires that we believe with our whole heart. And a closed mind and a hard heart won't get us there. This is not who we were created to be. It's not our best. So, how do we move toward a best, full-grown, mature, whole person? Paul offers specific counsel. He says, Throw off your old sinful nature and your former way of life, which is corrupted by lust and deception. And let me pause here for a second. Because we hear the word lust and we immediately go to sexuality almost a hundred percent of the time. But lust is a bigger thing than just a sexual thing. Lust is anything that is controlling you rather than the other way around. And it certainly goes hand in hand with deception. So, Paul says throw off that. Throw off your old sinful nature and your former way of life, which is corrupted by lust and deception. Instead, let the Spirit renew your thoughts and attitudes. Put on your new nature, created to be like God, truly righteous and holy. And I'm not paraphrasing. I'm reading this. Put on your new nature, created to be like God, truly righteous and holy. Let that simmer in your pot today. Because the implications are astounding. Paul told us to put on a new nature, created to be like God. And if we literally break this down, it would say to put on our new nature or our new self-created after the likeness of God. That would be a literal translation. So, the idea that this is even theoretically possible should blow our minds. Paul's saying through faith we can put on a new nature and not just any nature. Not like we just change our personality or something. A new nature created to be like God, truly righteous and holy. So, what we're talking about here is a fully restored humanity created in God's image. And although we have no power whatsoever to give ourselves a new nature, we can receive one from God through faith. This is what being made new through faith is. And though we can't make this happen on our own, we certainly have to collaborate. And Paul told us how. He said, Stop telling lies. Let us tell our neighbors the truth, for we're all part of the same body. In other words, we're all in this together. And don't sin by letting anger control you. Don't let the sun go down while you're still angry. For anger gives a foothold to the devil. So, why would you want to do that? That's counterproductive. If you're a thief, quit stealing. Instead, use your hands for good hard work and then give generously to others in need. Don't use foul or abusive language. Don't hurt each other on purpose with your words. Let everything you say be good and helpful so that your words will be an encouragement to those who hear them. And do not bring sorrow to God's Holy Spirit by the way you live. Remember, he has identified you as his own, guaranteeing that you will be saved on the day of redemption. So, get rid of the bitterness, the rage, the anger, the harsh words, the slander, as well as all types of evil behavior. Instead, be kind to each other, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you. If we'll look back over what's being said here and we'll catch ourselves when we fall into these counterproductive behaviors, we then can do exactly what Paul said. Let the Spirit renew our thoughts and attitudes. In other words, we catch ourselves, we stop ourselves, we confess it, give it to God, we ask him to renew us. And we keep repeating that cycle as many times as it takes until we begin to find that we are being transformed and growing up and becoming mature. We can allow the Holy Spirit to trigger or remind us that wherever it is that we're heading into, this is not who we were created to be. And it's not where we're going. It's not choosing our best. And it's working against this new nature that is created to be like God, righteous and holy. So, working against that, what we're doing is trying some kind of strange attempt to resurrect an old and dead nature that's not part of our story anymore, that is not like God in any way. So, we have to ask ourselves, because Paul has contrasted this very well. Which direction do we want to go in? Do we want to move in the direction that is going to make us fully mature and Christ-like in this world, bearing the nature of God, which is sinless and holy in this world? Or we can go in the other direction. And we should all be pretty well aware of where that road leads.
Prayer:
So, Father, we have to confess it's overwhelming to think that You have invited us this near, this close, that You are giving us a new nature, re-creating us in Your image, restoring us to who we were made to be as people. And we confess that this is the aim of our life and what our hearts truly long for. And we confess that we've settled for far less. Any blinking light that can get our attention. We've settled for far less and we're sorry. You've invited us to rise above all of the noise and deception of this world and to see things as they truly are. And yet so often we find ourselves confused and settling for blinking lights. So come Holy Spirit. We wanna grow up. We wanna be mature. We've got to obey You. You have showed us the narrow path that leads to life and invited us to walk it. The only thing that's gonna stop that is ourselves. So come Holy Spirit and lead us into all truth we pray. In Jesus name we ask. Amen.
Announcements:
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And that's it for today. I'm Brian. I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.
Community Prayer and Praise:
Hi family, it’s Laura from Fort Myers and I have a prayer request today for a situation in our environment down here. We have what’s called Red Tide, which is a lot of microscopic organisms coming together in the Gulf of Mexico and creating…they cause fish kills and lots of…kill a lot of marine life and also when they break up they cause a respiratory irritation in people as well at the shore. And then we have another thing going on in one of our freshwater canals called blue green algae. And both of these things are killing lots and lots of marine life. And that’s something that…that God has…has…that’s my mission from God, is to help the environment, help His creation, what He has created in this world for us, you know, to enjoy and just the diversity of life around us. So, please pray that we get some relief from this, from both of these situations going on. And if that doesn’t appeal to you, pray because businesses are losing billions of dollars in people not visiting the hotels, resorts, and restaurants near the waterfront too. So…and…just rentals and just all kinds of loss is going on. So, please pray that we get relief from these situations and we can find a solution for this very soon. Thanks and have a great day.
Good morning this is Elizabeth from Louisiana. I’m calling with a request for my husband and, his name is Jason. He is dealing with a lot of anger…a temper. And he has prayed many times to ask God to remove it, many times, you know, the way that Paul of course did…for the Lord to remove the thorn in his flesh. My husband struggles with things at work, with things in his life that he feels has not lined up with what God has in mind for him and gets more of what he has in mind for himself. I just…I request your prayers for my husband to let go, to…for the Lord to be able to break down the walls in his heart in order to do a mighty work in him so that he may be the true head of our home, what God intended them to be in a such a way that is completely Christlike. I know that God can do this. I have every faith in Him. I just request that you would please lift them up in prayer. And any Scriptures that someone could send along the way that would be much and most helpful. Thank you Brian for all that you do. I am glued to the Daily Audio Bible and I have loved it for the two solid weeks that I’ve been doing it. Thank you so much for following the Lords design. I appreciate everything that you do. Have a wonderful and blessed day. I love all of you very much.
Hi this is Melody Faith calling from Canada. I am just reaching out to my Daily Audio Bible family today to pray for my son. He is…has chosen to live on the streets because drugs are more important than a warm comfortable home and food in his tummy. His body is showing terrible signs of the effects of the lifestyle he’s living. We’ve had him home for three weeks and he was getting quite healthy and…and the cravings got so strong that he couldn’t resist anymore and he left. And now it’s snowing and he has nowhere to live. We’re just asking you to pray that our prodigal son will come home and that he’ll see treatment and that he’ll ask Jesus back into his life. And we’re so thankful for the Daily Audio Bible for Brian and Jill and all of you who call in regularly and those who don’t but I know are praying anyways. And we want to thank you. We want you to know we are trusting God to come through for him but we believe that prayer is key. Thank you very much and have a great day.
Hi this is Stephen __ calling from Southern California. I was calling because I was up early in the morning and I was listening and I just heard Daniel Johnson Junior call in from Cincinnati Ohio. And I know…I know that struggle brother where, you know, the heart waxes and wanes. And it does that, I think, in a lot of ways in our lives in the way that we eat, in the way that we exercise, in our relationships, in our relationships with the Lord. And I just wanted to share with you some things that have helped me. I think that, first and foremost, I think the text and talk about putting on the full armor of God every day I think are so necessary are to pray over ourselves and our family because we’re under attack. We do need that full armor of God on a daily basis and maybe multiple times a day. The other thing that helps me man is to think about…CS Lewis was writing and he was talking about us humans, we can’t always make ourselves feel a certain way. Like, you can’t always make yourself feel hungry or full. It just depends on when you eat, right? Same thing happens with love, you can’t make yourself feel that feeling all the time with our spouses or with the Lord. But he said something that always stuck with me in his writing. Ask yourself this question, ask yourself if you did love that person or if you did love the Lord. What would you do in that moment? And then when you find the answer to that then you do it. And I think, more importantly than anything else, in these moments when that happens to me, I pray to the Holy Spirit and I tell the Holy Spirit to take my heart and my mind and my action because my feelings aren’t there. And I ask the Holy Spirit to guide me. Because at the end of the day man we don’t want lose those spaces in time during the day when we can’t be a part of the body of Christ and we can affect our family or our friends or ourselves in a way that brings glory to the Lord. So, listen brother, you’re not alone in a struggle like that. Those are just things that I’ve…I’ve learned over the years. This…
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Your Choice. Choose Wisely. - Yanan
Group: Pentagon
Member: Yanan aka TALL BEAN aka mister legs
Genre: anGSTYYYY (I feel like this will hurt) (It does)
Requested: nope requests are dry
Prompt: “It’s not that easy!” ; “We’ll figure this out”
Length: short|medium|long|idk man
Warning: There will be some mentions of relationship abuse and harsh language. it will be really vague and broad but it will be there, so read with caution this is just as a warning.
A/N: upon finishing this I realized I got carried away AND this hurt my heart. Please enjoy this sad angsty shit because I am trash.
“Yanan, I don’t want to talk about this right now.” You groaned, your ankle was throbbing because the pain killers hadn’t kicked in yet.
“We need to, I have to know exactly what happened.” He was left pacing the room, his lip between his teeth and the clear worry lines on full display.
“There is no way to say it nicely so drop it for now.” You wanted to beg him to just go, you needed to be alone right now to process the last few hours.
However your best friend and apartment mate had a completely different idea about what needed to happen. He stopped in front of you and checked you over one more time. He grimaced at your swollen lip and was more than aware of your wrapped and elevated ankle resting on a pillow on the other end of the couch. He’d almost tripped over the crutches by you on the floor when he gotten home and he’d been questioning you nonstop since then.
“Yanan, you really don’t want the explanation right now.” You sighed, knowing if he kept it up you were going to blow a gasket and he was the only person with you at the moment.
“I can handle it (Y/N).” He squatted in front of you and reached for your hand that you moved away from him.
“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You took a deep breath and watched him slowly pull his hand back to his knee. “Your psychopathic girlfriend was berating me on the stairwell and pushed me down half a flight of stairs.”
“W-What?” Yanan froze.
You gave him a moment to process this information because you just told him that the light of his life, the one he lives for pushed his best friend down a set of stairs causing a sprained ankle, a busted lip and possibly some knee damage.
“She wouldn’t do that.” He mumbled, more to himself. “Did you say something to her?”
“Are you kidding me?!” Your voice raised in volume and pitch. “You’re asking what I did to deserve getting pushed down the stairs?!” You could barely hold in the rage bubbling throughout your body.
“She’s too sweet to ever do that to anyone. She really likes you too.” Yanan stood up quickly, towering over your already smaller frame laying on the couch. “She always talks about–” His phone started ringing. “That’s her… I’ll be right back.”
You watched him walk towards the back of the apartment and out the back door to your tiny yard. You wanted to pace the living room now but were clearly unable. You picked your phone up from your lap and send a message to Changgu, him and Shinwon were suppose to get here before Yanan got home to back you up.
“(Y/N)?” A familiar voice called from your front door.
“In here.” You turned your body the best you could to greet your guests. “Took you long enough, he’s already home.” You wanted to throw yourself onto the floor.
“Shit, sorry.” Shinwon smiled apologetically. “But we got snacks!”
Changgu who was a few steps behind held up the plastic bag full of goodies with a shy smile.
“We also wanted to apologize for not preventing this.” Changgu motioned towards your ankle.
“Guys, none of us really thought she was going to do it until I was already at the bottom of the stairs.” You tried to make light of the situation.
“So where is he? You said he was home.”
“She called so he’s in the backyard.”
“He just leaves you like this, did you tell him?”
“The jist of what happened and he wanted to know what I did to make her push me down the stairs.”
“Seriously?!” Changgu’s good natured smile that he always wore disappeared. “She came at you screaming and accusing you of cheating with him. She shoved you and tried to start a fight. She pushed you down the stairs.”
“I didn’t get to go into detail because the psychopath called.” You rolled your eyes.
“You’d think this would be the breaking point.” Shinwon sighed, sitting down beside you on the couch, careful of your leg. “After everything that’s happened and all the shit, you’d think his best friend getting hurt like this would be what it took for this mess to end.”
“Do you guys have the proof?” You asked, feeling a heavy weight on your chest.
“Yea… We had the rest of the guys send us everything they had.” Changgu held up his phone, “Between my phone and Hyung’s we have all the proof we’ll need.”
“Are you sure you need to do this now?” Shinwon’s hands were fidgeting in his lap.
“Yes. I was going to wait until after the semester ended since we’d be going back home but this can’t go on any longer. It’s one thing to be a two-faced bitch, but to actually assault me, that’s too damn far.” You rubbed around your temples, a headache already hitting you.
“I agree with her.” Changgu concured from the kitchen where he was getting sodas and unpacking the snacks. “This girlfriend of his is causing way too much trouble, it’s not a healthy relationship.”
“If this goes on any longer it could really damage his view on relationships and love. I know this girl is the first one he’s dated and I don’t want her to be the last. He deserves so much better.” As you thanked Changgu for the drink and bag of chips, the sound of the back door grabbed all of the attention.
“(Y/N), we definitely need to talk now because she sai–What are you doing here?” Yanan froze seeing his hyungs sitting on either side of you, like body guards.
“We’re here to tell you the truth. To explain what happened from our perspective because we were there.” Shinwon motioned for Yanan to sit down.
“Misun told me everything, it’s fine.” Yanan’s face went stoic, his posture was rigid and closed off. “What I need to do right now is talk to (Y/N) alone so we can figure out how to find a happy medium because Misun still wants to be friends even though (Y/N) started it.”
The last part sent you and the two other guys in the room into a spiral of rage and betrayal. You were so angry your eyes started to water and this was not a situation for you to cry because you didn’t want Yanan’s pity you wanted him to open his goddamn eyes.
Changgu leaned forward and grabbed your hand when he noticed you tense up and he squeezed it a few times before he spoke up.
“Yanan, I know you don’t want to hear this but Misun lied to you. She’s the one that approached (Y/N), she started yelling at her about being too close to you and accused her of cheating with you. Then Misun shoved to, trying to instigate a fight and when (Y/N) didn’t retaliate Misun pushed her so hard she fell down the stairs. The only thing (Y/N) is guilty of is not beating the shit out of Misun before hand.”
Changgu’s last sentence made all of you look at him. His normal docile, cheerful, I-love-everyone attitude was gone. He was a little scary being that stone cold, his warm hand offered such a contrast to the cold hatred in his eyes.
“This isn’t the first time she’s attacked (Y/N) like that, the times before were less physical, mainly foul language and name calling.” Shinwon added as he grabbed your phone and opened it to Misun’s contact, respectfully name that bitch, and scrolled to the first message Misun had sent you. “She’s been verbally assaulting (Y/N) since the beginning.”
Yanan only glanced at the messages, he thumbed through them too quickly to actually read them. Before you blinked your phone was tossed back onto the small wooden coffee table between the four of you. You watched as his eyes fluttered between the three of you before settling on his phone in his lap.
“She wouldn’t do all that. It’s all fake.” He mumbled quietly.
“Need more proof? Here.” Changgu devoid of any more emotion unlocked his phone and opened the group chat he had created within your group of friends excluding you and Yanan. “Here is everything that bitch has said to everyone else since the two of you started dating.” Changgu walked over and slammed his phone into Yanan’s hand. “And you will look at these.”
Changgu stood over Yanan as he scrolled through the screen shots of his Misun calling all his best friends awful names, he read how she had told them to quit talking to him because she was more important. He quickly picked up on those she was more vicious too, the two people he was closest to, Changgu and you.
“She can’t really hurt me so she turned to (Y/N) and did that.” Changgu pointed to you, beated and tatted looking tired and broken.
For the first time in a long time Yanan seemed to break a little.
“We’ll figure this out…” He started, “We can work something out. We can all be friends still and get through this.” He was too hopeful, still under her spell.
“How about you look at the messages she sent to (Y/N) one more time.” Changgu’s voice was rough. He picked up your phone again and pushed it into Yanan’s face. “She has sent messages to our friend telling her to stay away from you, that she’s trash and ugly and not worthy to breathe the same air as her. She has told (Y/N) to off herself at least fifty times because you would be better without her. Misun has been trying to drive a wedge between you and us so that you only have her. (Y/N) has put up with this shit for the last three months because she cares about you too much to leave because of this garbage human.”
“Changgu, calm down.” Shinwon stood to get between the too. It only took a few moments for Changgu to drag his much larger friend to his feet and get into his face.
“No Hyung. He’s been so blinded because someone showed him so attention that he’s letting his friends get hurt.”
“We can work something out.” Yanan almost cried, matching Changgu’s stance and standing his ground.
“It’s not that easy!“ You sighed, the tears had been flowing since the beginning, your nose was clogged and you probably sounded pathetic. At least it matched how you felt. “I wasn’t going to make you choose, because that’s cruel but this is too much. It’s us or her. You get to keep your friends or you get to keep your girlfriend.” The term was sour in your mouth.
“It sucks ya know, we’re playing right into her hand.” You shook your head. The guys all looked at you. You didn’t notice Yanan falter and step back from Changgu. “This is what she wants, but she’s been too manipulative and abusive that you’ve become completely submissive to her.” You locked eyes with Yanan.
“You haven’t been the same since you’ve started dating her. She has sucked the life right out of you and I hate you right now. Do you realize one of the first things you asked me was what did I do to get pushed down the stairs?” All the attention went to Yanan again, he could feel the anger bubbling from his hyungs. “There were some classmates of mine around, some of them recorded it so I can get proof if you decide you can’t trust me.” You sniffled before moving to stand, Shinwon was by your side in seconds. “I’m going to press chargers and if she gets arrested, she gets arrested. That’s what happens when you assault someone. I can’t feel any compassion towards her anymore because I tried. I tried to understand that she came from a rough past relationship but she projected that onto you. If you decide to stay with her after all this, then pack your shit and get out by the end of the week. Until you decide I’m staying with these two.”
Shinwon walked beside you as you moved towards your room to pack some stuff. Yanan and Changgu were left standing less than a foot apart, Changgu had been watching Yanan with a locked jaw and fire in his eyes. Yanan couldn’t bare to look at Changgu so he focused on other things around the room.
Changgu noticed the internal struggle going on in his friend. Yanan’s eyes were glazed over and he had been gnawing on his lip for ten minutes now. He watched his friend start to pace and fidget as they heard you and Shinwon talking quietly in your room. Yanan always broke completely when he heard you sob a few times, knowing he was a big part of why you were in so much pain.
Just as Changgu had moved to his original seat your phone started vibrating with a call form none other than Misun. Changgu silently leant forward, answered the call, and put it on speaker.
“Listen (Y/N), I wanted to call you say a few things.” Yanan perked up, hoping Misun would apologize and this could some how be fixed but he mentally shattered as she spoke again. “First off bitch you got what you deserved so don’t even think of crying to my Yannie about it, because you know he’ll always be on my side. I just wish you’d hit your heard or something so you’d be in the hospital and out of my way. This wouldn’t have had to happen if you weren’t so close to my Yannie.” The way Misun said Yanan name started to make him sick. “Second, even if those two assholes get involved I’ll still win. I’ve laid my claim and made Yannie mine, he’s no longer your friend and as of today I’ll make sure of that. He knows I love him too much to just leave. Besides who’d want him after me?” She laughed, Changgu hardly flinched as he watched his friend break even more. “Anyway, I just wanted to call to chat but I’m assuming since you’re so quiet you’ve given up and that’s just what I’ve wanted. I’ll be over in a few hours to see Yannie so you better be fucking gone or I’ll finish the job I started.” And the call ended.
Changgu waited a moment before he grabbed your phone and picked up the unopened snacks to clean up.
“See Yanan, Misun isn’t the sweet angel you think she is. She’s manipulative and honestly, a bitch. She’s been like this to (Y/N) since day one and just wish we’d told you sooner. I’m not going be nice as nice as she was though, you don’t have a week. I’m giving you three days before we come back and move (Y/N) out of here and in with us because I will not let her be treated like this. She has been your best friend for years, how can you just throw her away from some girl?!” Changgu stopped himself from advancing on Yanan again. “We,” He motioned between the two of them, “can work through this and get back to normal but as long as you’re with Misun consider this friendship done.”
Before Yanan could say anything you and Shinwon made it back into the living room. Shinwon was carrying two duffel bags and your back pack. Changgu took one of the duffel bags and your backpack as Shinwon followed you to the door.
“You have everything right?” Changgu’s demeanor changed completely as he watched you worriedly.
“Yes, I packed enough for about a week. And I’ve got everything I need for my classes too.” You turned towards Yanan. “I took everything of value and locked my door but if I find that anything is missing I will beat Misun’s ass.”
Yanan could only nod slightly. Shinwon moved to Changgu and had him go with you. Shinwon then walked over to Yanan.
“This hurts us so much because we care okay? We know why you’re so attached to her and why she means so much to you, but this is not healthy. If anything happens or you’ve made your choice call me. (Y/N) made it clear to me that she doesn’t want to talk to you right now and from what I heard so has Changgu. Don’t think that this means you’ve lost all of us…” Shinwon looked over his shoulder at Changgu helping you slide on your one show and throw a couple pairs into his duffel bag. “They’re affected so much because you’re all so close. Just know that me and the rest of the hyungs are still here, just call one of us okay? Check in, we’re all really worried.” Shinwon patted Yanan’s shoulder before moving towards the door.
“I hope to see you soon Yanan.”
In seconds, Yanan was left to process his thoughts and with his mind completely reeling from all that’s happened. The only thing his body could handle at that moment was to crumple to the ground and just sob, so that’s what he did.
He sobbed for many reasons, but the biggest reason was that after you left he realized he didn’t care as much as he should have. That final thought took what was left of him and stomped on the pieces. He didn’t know if he could fix this anymore.
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Fic: Falling out of feeling [JayceViktor]
A/N: Available @ AO3 too. Set after all the Bad Things happen, and Viktor attacks Jayce’s lab. It was supposed to be a lot angstier than it is but halfway through it I discovered that I cannot do that. Fixed some hiccups left because I published it FRESH OUTTA THE OVEN and some formatting stuff.
Word Count: 7.160.
Characters/Relationships: Jayce/Viktor.
Rating: T for language.
Summary: Regrets go well with snap decisions.
Since Viktor left, he learned how to hate him. It was easier to find him a menace, clear cut as a danger to Piltover and humanity, than to remember him as the dry witted man he once knew.
He tells himself that, but some nights Jayce aches all over with missing him and he doesn't know what to do with himself. He misses the easy friendship they forged back when Viktor was allowed in the academy, the way he dismissed academic nonsense yet fought to spread knowledge. How he talked about humanity, and emotions, and progress, as if the world weren't rotten but merely needed adjustments to shine.
We are slaves to our emotions, he would say, and to this day he still thinks that Viktor was waiting for an answer that Jayce was unable to give him.
Once Viktor left for good, nobody cared to tolerate him anymore. He's aware. Viktor found his arrogance funny, something to prod at and make fun of instead of something irritating and wrong. He misses that, too, even the more so when loneliness jabs at him and twists his gut.
As it is doing right now, as he reads one of his colleague's papers, acutely aware of the fact that the author only wants him to read it because he's Him. Knowing that if Viktor caught him thinking that, he'd stare at him with unimpressed disdain and say something ridiculous like "good grief, you are impossible".
They made so many mistakes.
He leaves the paper on the desk and rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands with a groan. Things could've been different. There's no way to know if they would've been better than they are, but he's sure that changes could've been made. If he had backed Viktor up when Stanwick stole his credit for Blitzcrank. If he hadn't told on Viktor to the Academy. If he had followed him after that. If he hadn't attacked Viktor's laboratory in Zaun.
Wondering leads him nowhere. Yet, after all these years, he can't help but feel guilty sometimes when his guard is down. He can recognize Viktor's fault in things, but it's only fair to reflect on his. Not doing so, or trying to avoid to, is a matter of pragmatism. Once he starts, he can go at it for hours and all time spent on that is time lost.
Jayce looks at the paper on his desk and grimaces.
Transhumanism in the magic and clockwork era: Challenges and opportunities.
Viktor would have either loved or hated that. It was hard to know with him, sometimes. Specially after the incident with Blitzcrank, when things soured between them. But he has a feeling that he would have at least had something to say.
He has to stop thinking about it. Viktor attacked his laboratory not that long ago, there's no use in getting tangled up in that mess again.
He can't change the past. It's bitter and hopeless, but it's the truth.
Viktor's voice, when they were younger, a fire in his words that could burn the world. He remembers them, still. We are slaves to our emotions.
He can't change the past.
But maybe he can change the future.
-x-
That night he dreams of the day when everything went wrong.
-x-
Dusk, the sun filtering through the windows.
Viktor walking in circles, his eyes ablaze.
Tension. Frustration. Anger.
"You are oversimplifying things. You refuse to see reason, as usual."
"You are taking away their free will!"
"I'm trying to stop them from killing each other and themselves!"
"By making them unable to refuse to follow commands!"
"Goodness gracious, Jayce! What kind of commands do you think they're going to get? It's only temporary, they will be informed, it's for their safety."
A plea in his voice. Please, understand.
"You're having delusions of grandeur."
"They will die, Jayce. They are dying. It's not a controlled environment, free will isn't part of the equation when they're getting intoxicated and losing it to begin with."
"Either way, you can't do that."
"Why?"
Viktor screams at him. Demands answers. He wants to scream back. Nobody is as self-sacrificing as you. Nobody will see it as you see it. Nobody will bother to listen beyond you telling them that they will be forced to obey.
They will steal it as they did before.
"Have you forgotten about Urgot? What if your research is used for other things, Viktor? What if it ends up in the wrong hands? Not everyone wants what you want, believe it or not. We can't manipulate free will because then they will think that it's okay to do it."
"It's the only way. You're blinded by your emotions."
Enough.
"So are you. I can't let you do this, Viktor. I just...I can't."
Viktor's back to him. The ever tense line of his shoulders.
Defeated.
"Do as you will."
-x-
Venturing into Zaun when he's had barely one or two hours of sleep isn't the brightest idea he's ever had, he will admit that, but it's the only thing that makes sense. Not much, but enough for him to break one of the rules that have dictated his life.
Jayce wants the situation to be over. He wants to stop spending hours wondering about the what ifs and how everything turned south. He wants to stop being on high alert every second of every single day, to the point of almost attacking a child. He wants to stop playing this good versus evil charade. Jayce is clever enough to know that it's bullshit, that he's a jerk. More of a jerk than Viktor could ever be.
For better or for worse, Jayce expects it all to end today. He could very well die in seconds as he approaches Viktor's laboratory, or he could live to tell the story. Either way, the ridiculous back and forth between him and Viktor will stop.
The metallic gates to the building open without him having to do more than walk to them and he looks around, on high alert, waiting for the moment the automatons jump on him. But, as he makes his way towards the main entrance, nothing happens.
Once in front of the door to Viktor's home, he expects another grand gesture of technology. Automatic doors, maybe an automaton, but he gets the unexpected and it almost makes him rethink it all and go back to Piltover.
His bravado is the only thing keeping him there when Viktor opens the door, metallic and foreign. So different from the man he remembers, not a trace of his tired eyes and gloomy smile. Inscrutable.
Jayce clears his throat, trying for nonchalance but knowing that he's failed beforehand.
"You didn't attack me on sight."
"You are unarmed," Viktor answers, in a no-nonsense tone of voice that takes Jayce years back and makes his heart clench, and with a distortion to it that makes it hurt. "Do you want to come inside?"
Detached. Formal.
Wrong.
He nods, and Viktor guides him inside standing tall and holding himself steady. Jayce follows him to what he guesses is the main room, with automatons lining the walls and tables overflowing with notes. He looks around, fascinated and revolted by the organs floating in glass jars. There's a workbench, and on the workbench there's blood, and Jayce has the sneaking suspicion that it's Viktor's.
He doesn't want to think of the other possibilities.
All the while, he feels Viktor staring at him leaning against his workbench with a calmness that gets on his nerves.
This is not how he expected this encounter to go. He expected screaming, an explosive mess of emotions. Reproaches and regrets thrown at each other. Not Viktor, calm and composed, guiding him inside his laboratory as if they hadn't tried to kill each other at some point. As if Jayce hadn't apologized to him across a room and Viktor hadn't ordered his automatons to kill him.
He gets why, now, but it still stings. Even though Jayce had almost killed Viktor, too. People though that he was dead.
It's too civil, considering how they've come to this, and the reasons why it might be as tame as it is being are dreadful. Viktor might be way too different from the man that he remembers. He somehow tried to prepare himself for that, but the reality of it is too harsh.
"What do you want?" Viktor inquires, and Jayce feels relief at how tired he sounds even if the distortion gets on his nerves. Even if he misses his voice more than he has missed anything in his life. As if something essential has been taken away, lost forever.
Extrapolating it to Viktor as a whole hurts too much to start thinking about it. He needs to focus. He needs to be articulate. He needs...something. Anything.
Jayce sighs. "I want us to stop behaving like children," Viktor huffs, and Jayce misses the tense smile that used to go with the sound. He knew that this would be painful, he wasn't ready for how much.
"I am sure that I can, but can you? Last time you came to visit me, you smashed everything around you with a rather big hammer."
"I thought that you were trying to kill people," he argues. It feels futile, and childish considering his words, but he has to.
"You thought wrong. You have a tendency to do that when it comes to me," Viktor laughs, humorless. "Jump to conclusions, assume the worst, and betray me."
He wants to tell him that he's wrong, but Viktor raises a hand and Jayce takes a deep breath and waits.
"We may not have seen eye to eye in everything, Jayce, but I trusted you."
Guilt blooms in his stomach, heavy and hot. He thought that he was doing the right thing. He always did. But the right thing came with a price, and that price was Viktor. Jayce wonders, again, if anything would have changed if he had taken Viktor's side back then. If Viktor's attitude towards human emotions would have been different. If he could still look at him in the eye now, listen to his voice, read how he feels in his face.
Useless thinking, yet inevitable.
Jayce lets Viktor's words hurt while he sheds his pride and steps closer to him. He lets them burn through him, be a bitter reminder of everything he did wrong.
"I'm sorry," he says, pouring all the regret he feels into it, and for what feels like an eternity Viktor doesn't react.
Then, slowly, Viktor raises his hands to the back of his head. There's a click, and as he lowers his hands the metal that covered his face does it with them. His eyes are closed, yet Jayce longs to touch him just to reassure himself that Viktor is real. That he really was wrong about how his enhancements work.
It's selfless, he's aware.
He doesn't care, but he refrains all the same. Jayce closes his hands in tight fists, and Viktor opens his eyes and he can't breathe.
"Judging by your expression you thought that I had cut my face off," Viktor smiles, mirthless, and Jayce's stomach ties in knots. "You always had a flair for the dramatic. I have, as a matter of fact, kept most modifications away from my brain."
Most. Alarmed, yet trying to be patient, Jayce only takes another step closer to Viktor and looks at him. The light in the laboratory is unflattering, to say the least, but his features still fill him with familiarity. Sharp and straight lines, tired eyes, lips half stretched in a worn out smile, angular nose.
"I'm sorry," he repeats, stupidly but out of things to say, and Viktor shakes his head and runs a metallic hand through his hair.
"Done is done. I have had a lot of time to wallow in regret and misery, and it has brought upon nothing but trouble," Viktor sighs. "That is what emotions tend to do."
Jayce bristles. "Emotions are what brought me here today."
There's a lull in the conversation, brief, filled only by the sound of Viktor's fingers tapping on his mask. Metal against metal, like clockwork inside a machine.
"And what good has that done?"
Viktor's words cut him in places deep and tender, already sore.
He knows the answer.
None.
Jayce rubs his eyes, exasperated with himself and the situation he's gotten himself into.
"Will anything at all fix this, Viktor? Is there even a way?"
"In all honesty, I don't know what you want to fix."
Jayce wants to scream at him that he's lying, that he does. But he doesn't know how true that statement would be, and suddenly the idea terrifies him.
"This mess between us, this rivalry. I don't understand it."
Viktor huffs. "Neither did I, when you stopped making sense and started dancing to Pididly's rythm, yet here we are."
"I made mistakes."
"Yes," Viktor deadpans, and Jayce laughs. He's hurting so much, so bad, in ways that he almost forgot that he could, yet Viktor didn't doubt a second to back him up on that. Yes. Yes you made mistakes. Yes.
"So did you."
"That's debatable, but I guess that I could have talked it out at some point. It wasn't my brightest moment. Everything was crumbling under my feet, Jayce, what did you expect me to do."
Saying talk to me sounds selfish, even to him.
Jayce doesn't know what he was expecting Viktor to do. Remain as himself, maybe.
Stay.
He could lie or say nothing at all, but if he wants anything to come out of this Jayce has to be honest. He owes Viktor that much. "I wanted you to stay."
"I am here."
Jayce grumbles, frustrated. "That's not what I mean."
"As disappointing as this might be to hear, I am not a doormat. I am, albeit open to discussion by now, a human being. They kicked me out of the Academy. It was my life. It was hard. I did what made sense back then."
"You mutilated yourself."
Viktor's eyes cut through him with what Jayce is both appalled and mystified to recognize as rage. Such a reaction, from someone who claims that emotions imply weakness, leaves Jayce speechless. He wasn't expecting an automaton, not exactly, but he wasn't expecting to be able to taste Viktor's fury in the air either.
The atmosphere has changed. Tension hangs heavy around them and Jayce knows that he has failed. That the situation is far from over, and that it's his fault for being unable to keep his mouth shut.
Viktor's voice, when he talks, is deceivingly calm and detached. "I wouldn't expect you to understand what I did this for," he says, and Jayce can see that his organic hand is trembling around the mask. "Leave."
No, Jayce thinks. You're dehumanizing yourself. You're drifting away. You went down a path that I couldn't follow. A dark and scary one, morally and ethically ambiguous. I can't leave now. You are the one who doesn't understand how hard it has been to come down here. Come with me.
He doesn't say any of that.
Jayce can't hold his gaze any longer. He looks at the workbench behind him, stained with blood, and bites his lip ridden with uncertainty on what to do. If he leaves now, there's no way to know what would happen next. But pressing Viktor, that has never been the best choice when they were younger. Not when he specifically asked to be left alone.
"Viktor, I-" Viktor cuts him off with a shove, bypassing him and crossing the room to the door. Jayce closes his eyes for a brief moment, enough to compose himself. To gather himself and his wits and will his legs to carry him out of Viktor's space. The message has been clear. He wants him out.
He turns, and follows Viktor all the way back to the door.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, in a last attempt to try and fix the situation, to at least make sure that Viktor knows that it was a mistake.
The only answer he gets is the door closing loudly in his face.
-x-
The next morning, Jayce wakes up to a throbbing headache and a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach. As the day progresses, he wanders around his laboratory without purpose, trying to settle himself and reign over his own emotions as well as advancing on his own work. It's of little to no use, and his idle coming and going through rooms and tasks only helps in making him irritable and even harder to be around than normal.
He's furious.
First and foremost, at himself for putting his foot in his mouth and upsetting Viktor to the point of anger. Livid at his own failure, at his own incapacity of maintaining a civil conversation. It was going well, not stellar by any means but they were talking and it seemed to be going right.
Jayce can't also help being angry at Viktor. That maddening, volatile, man. He never knew where he stood with him, even when they were friends he had no idea whether or not Viktor merely tolerated him or liked him. It's ridiculous.
Yet he knows, because he might be arrogant but he's also intelligent enough to self-reflect, that Viktor is right to be angry and that he was an asshole. Which only fuels his own self-loathing to a point in which, sore and tired from spending the day roaming around his lab forcing himself to work and snapping at everyone around him, he ends up slumping on a chair sulking.
"What's up with you?" Jayce groans, and Vi blinks at him from the door. She stalks into the room, whistling as she looks around. "What the fuck, dude."
Jayce rubs his eyes. He isn't in the mood to talk. He is in the mood to stare morosely at the wall thinking about all the things that have gone wrong in his life. His afternoon is full.
"Nothing," Vi snorts, but Jayce pays her no mind. She sits on the workbench by his table, arms crossed. Jayce glance slowly up at her. She doesn't look happy. "Really, Vi. It's nothing. You wouldn't understand."
She glowers. "Hey, first of all fuck you," she gives him the middle finger. Jayce feels like he deserves it. "What's wrong. I mean, something must be wrong, you look like crap. Am not gonna ask you to work on my gauntlets like this, you could mess 'em right up."
This is, oddly enough, just what Jayce needs. He's mad at himself and at Viktor, ridden with melancholy and sadness and an endless string of what ifs. Vi is abrasive, and she won't have mercy on his soul. Maybe it will help him think. Not of a solution to Viktor's situation, but of a way to move on.
A very unhelpful part of his brain whispers unlikely and Jayce sighs.
"I went to Zaun," Vi perks up. It's hard to know how she feels about Zaun, these days, but she looks interested enough. "I...thinking about it now, it sounds stupid. But I wanted to talk to Viktor. Or have our final fight. I don't know."
Vi smirks. "You missed him," it isn't a question, and Jayce resents her for that but can't argue. He shrugs. "So then what? Not a cool good versus evil fight?"
"No, not as such," he laughs, weak and worn. "I said something that I shouldn't have."
"Business as usual, then."
"Hush," he plants his elbows on the workbench, staring down at the metallic surface with a grimace. "It was worse than usual, believe me. I told him that he had mutilated himself."
He can't see Vi's wince, but he can feel it.
"You suck."
He's aware. "Yes, I know. Thank you."
Jayce sighs, bounces his leg, leans back on the chair and stares at the ceiling suddenly full of restless energy. It's better than sulking, he supposes.
"So what now? I mean, I guess you can't punch your way through forgiveness but there must be something you can do, right?"
But that is exactly the problem. Jayce looks at her, carelessly inspecting her knuckles, and is grateful for the privacy she's giving him. Conscious on her part or not, he's already horrified at the sting of tears rising behind his eyelids. He wouldn't want her to see.
He bites his lip. "I don't know," Jayce takes a deep breath, blinks hard and fast. "I just. I don't know, Vi. And that's the whole thing. I can't figure out what to do now, and it was all my fault, and it's all gone to shit."
Vi hums, still pointedly looking at her own hands. "I'm not good at this sorta thing, but if I do know something is that one can still keep trying. It's what we do. Take some time to think about stuff, then maybe try again."
Jayce won't tell her that it sounds like an stupid thing to do. It's the only thing he can think of, too, and she's the only one who has came up with anything at all. She might be right, for all he knows.
She shrugs and jumps off the workbench. "It's either that or moping around forever."
"Sounds appealing," he mutters, and she slaps him between the shoulders. Hard. "Okay, fine. I will think about it. Can't and won't promise anything. This is a very complicated situation, Vi, we tried to kill each other."
Vi snickers. "Yeah, well, who hasn't."
-x-
Night comes, and even if Jayce can still feel the irritation and the guilt prickling at his skin even while he attempts to sleep, he must admit that Vi was right and that thinking about it has calmed him down enough to stop catastrophizing. Their situation was catastrophic to begin with, what happened was merely a setback.
A regrettable one, true. Avoidable, yes. But it happened all the same, and all he can do now is either stay wondering what he could be doing to fix it or go see Viktor and try again. He didn't ask him to leave forever, after all.
Semantics, adds a voice that sounds very much like Viktor's in his head, and Jayce sighs as he starts drifting off.
The alarm is blaring.
Jayce jumps out of bed, as alert as he can be when he's just been woken up, and scrambles out of his room and down the stairs to the front door. Panting and frantic, he looks around himself and finds nothing.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
The alarm stops with a last, pitiful, sound and panic raises cold through Jayce's body. Whoever has entered his house knows how to deactivate the alarm.
It isn't easy, he made sure that it wasn't.
With his heart beating in his throat, Jayce turns to go to where the alarm's circuits are and freezes.
Viktor is there, standing tall and in full armor, right in front of him. Jayce has half a mind to remember that Viktor could be here to harm him before feeling relieved.
"Relax," he says, and Jayce huffs out a shaky laugh. "I mean no harm. Wasn't expecting the alarm, is all."
His nonchalance is, once again, alarming. But Jayce doesn't know what time it is, he feels vulnerable and raw, and he doesn't want to second guess himself or Viktor. He guides him silently to the living room and sits on a wooden chair rubbing at his temples while Viktor stays standing, staring.
Jayce sighs, figuring that even though Viktor is the one who has broken into his house he should at least say something. "I really am sorry for what I said. I did mean it, but it wasn't right. It was ignorant of me, and simplistic."
Viktor hums, and the click of the mask being unfastened lures him into looking up.
He looks tired, even in the dark where Jayce can barely see him. Yet resolute, in a way that he almost envies.
"I am still angry," Viktor grumbles, between his teeth. "But anger leads nowhere. I am also tired of this back and forth between you and me, and I supposed that I could drop by to settle things."
Jayce quirks an eyebrow. "In the middle of the night."
"The passing of time isn't as easy to discern in Zaun as it is here," he says, something bitter in his tone, and Jayce nods. "When I realized, I was already here and it was a matter of doing it or leaving knowing that I wouldn't be coming back."
That, he can understand with ease.
Viktor looks around the room until he locates another chair and drags it towards where he's sitting in the dark. He settles, there, and looks at Jayce with an expression that he can't fully decipher.
"Was this how you thought your life would be like when we were younger?"
Jayce smirks. "Sitting with you in the dark at who knows when in the morning talking about the future? Sure," he pauses, but so far Viktor offers no reaction. "You?"
"At some point, yes. I guess that was a possibility," Viktor catches his gaze in the dark, and Jayce feels trapped until he relents and looks at a point over Jayce's shoulder. "Until, you know. All that happened."
Maybe it's time to come clean. Maybe it will do both of them some good. Maybe not.
There's only one way to know.
Jayce crosses his arms over his thighs and leans forward. "When Stanwick stole credit for Blitzcrank, he talked to me before you came back from Zaun and threatened me. He said that he would get me expelled if I tried to do anything. He did that to everyone who worked on Blitzcrank." Viktor's breathe hitches. "As for the suits, to this day I still think that free will should never be toyed with. I don't know if there were other ways, but I do think now that the the Academy overreacted."
"Yes," Viktor whispers, airy yet firm, and Jayce nods.
"I'm not trying to justify myself. Raiding your lab was a mistake that will burden my conscience for as long as I live. People died because I acted on a misconception, and there is nothing I can do about it now. I just thought...I don't know. That it was important for you to know."
For a long while, Viktor says nothing and stares down at his lap. He reaches out and grabs one of Jayce's wrist as if in need of an anchor, and Jayce lets him. It's anchoring him too, and it wouldn't do for him to drift away now and get lost in memories of things that he can't fix.
Viktor looks up at last. "I, too, wish to end this rivalry. Never wanted it to start, to begin with. If you want, I will leave and you will never see me again."
There's a fragility in his words, albeit firm, that tugs at Jayce's heartstrings, that makes him want to shake his wrist free only to hold his hand. It's too late to tell him that he never wanted him to leave in the first place, so he does the second best thing that comes to mind.
He shakes his head. "No. That's not the point. Long nights spent talking about the future are still something that I would like to have."
Viktor's lips curve in a faint smile. Jayce holds his breathe, hyperaware of his fingers around his wrist. "You will have to go down to Zaun. I am still a wanted man here," he says, his eyes searching, and Jayce can hear the words that aren't there.
Sacrifices are to be made. He's going to have to give in order to get this, whatever this is. Jayce snorts, and tugs with his wrist for Viktor to lean closer. With Viktor sitting in front of him for the first time in years, a few trips to Zaun sound like a ridiculous price to pay to have this back.
"I will be there," he reassures, and Viktor nods. Jayce sighs, rubs his eyes and looks back at Viktor. "Was this really so easy to fix?"
Viktor lets go of his wrist and smacks his knee. "No. But I don't see what we were getting out of a petty war, publicity for you aside."
Jayce grimaces. "Don't. They expect things from me, they don't get them, they hate me. I never asked to be their poster boy, you know that. They just kind of went and got me there on their own."
"I know that you like it and that liking it makes you weak," Jayce bristles, but recognizes the jab as the truth and settles. Viktor is still very close, leaning into him, and he can't see hostility. He's as relaxed as he's seen him. It's a rare sight, but a welcomed one. "But I don't think that you actively seek it."
"Damn right I don't," Jayce stifles a yawn with the back of a hand.
"I loved you," Viktor mutters, and all of a sudden he's more awake than he's ever been in his life. He isn't looking at Jayce, having leaned back, and is running a hand through his hair. The familiarity of the gesture hurts in ways that he wasn't expecting. "Back then, I did. It was destroying me. An awful feeling. A weakness of sorts."
"Why," Jayce blurts out, stunned and aching, and Viktor quirks an eyebrow but doesn't answer. "I mean. I thought that you could barely tolerate me."
"One does what one must," Viktor says, so solemn that it should be ridiculous, but Jayce is too dizzy to laugh. The finality of the past tense is just hitting him, and it's making his entire being recoil with disapproval. Another regret to add to the list.
"I did, too. Love you," he laughs, aware of the mild hysteria in it, and Viktor looks shocked for a second before composing himself. "Honestly, Viktor. Don't you remember? I was insufferable, I stayed like that for a week. Completely and ridiculously enamored, but you rebuffed me and I figured that it wasn't possible. I tried to move on."
Tried being the key word.
Yet here they are, aren't they. Two grown men, unable to deal with their own feelings. He gets, now, why Viktor makes such unsavory remarks about them.
"That is what that was? I thought that you were trying to drive me out of the lab," Viktor frowns at him, then groans and hides his face behind his hands. "This is ridiculous. How old are we."
"Old enough to recognize that we were idiots," he says, reaching out to gently pry Viktor's hands from his face. He gives, muttering under his breath. "Do you love me now?"
He isn't sure what makes him ask. He feels giddy and brave, a little bit as if he's in a dream. For a second he's afraid that is actually what this is, but Viktor takes his hand and the metallic parts of his fingers bite at his skin. The tiniest flairs of pain reassure him that it's real.
"No, but I reckon that I could given time," Jayce notices, distantly, that the hand he's holding isn't fully organic. He doesn't care. "A lot has happened that we need to talk about beyond this night, not everything can be fixed in a few hours."
Something rebellious in Jayce wants to argue. Why not, why can't we go back to how we were before. Why can't we forget. But there's a bigger part of him, one that's cautious, that knows that Viktor is right. Rushing into things might be his style, but he cares about this and he's been given a second chance.
"Yes," he agrees, with a nod, and Viktor lets go of his hand and leans to rest his forehead against his. Jayce closes his eyes. "I know that. One step at a time, right?"
Viktor nods and Jayce raises a hand to touch his face. It's been only one day, but it feels like ages have gone by and when his fingers touch Viktor's skin his whole body hums with approval. He's warm to the touch, and as his fingers slide to the back of his neck and find metal Jayce is mildly surprised to discover that he doesn't care.
"I will go down to Zaun tomorrow," he touches Viktor's faint smile with a thumb.
"Okay."
"I will bring a paper I've been forced to read," Jayce wants to kiss him, but that can wait. "It's titled Transhumanism in the magic and clockwork era: Challenges and opportunities."
Viktor snorts. His laugh is dry and inelegant and Jayce longs to hear it again soon. "Sounds awfully dull."
"I wouldn't know, I've been thinking about you instead of reading it," his honesty catches both of them by surprise, and Jayce leans back and retrieves his hands to stare at Viktor as he blinks at him. "I've been doing that a lot the last couple of years."
Viktor shakes his head. "Sweet talking me will get you nowhere," he stands, and Jayce glances at the window and sees the first rays of sunlight filtering through. "I should leave."
He's right. That doesn't stop Jayce from wanting to tell him to stay. He has the feeling that once Viktor crosses the door, the spell that has fallen over them will be broken and they will be back to that awful tension and unfortunate remarks. But if Viktor stays any longer, he risks getting caught around Piltover. He took a big enough risk going up at all, albeit not knowing the time, Jayce won't stop him now.
It's regrettable, and everything in Jayce is screaming at him to try and make him linger if only for a little bit longer, but he must let him go for now.
Jayce will go down to Zaun later. He promised. He'll bring the awfully dull paper. That's something that he can hold onto.
He guides Viktor to the front door in silence, and Viktor opens it and takes a deep breath before putting his mask back on. Jayce's heart gives a painful pang.
"I'll see you later, then," he says, as Viktor stands in the doorway, and he half expects Viktor to change then. Into the monster everyone thinks he is. Jayce feels guilty for doing so, but he's also tired and sleep deprived and terrified that whatever amicability they have achieved is too frail to last. "If you want to."
Viktor cocks his head, and Jayce has a feeling that he's frowning at him. "Of course. Bring the bad paper. I want a kid that comes around some days to read it, will be interesting to see how that goes."
He's stepping away, and Jayce grabs his hand on impulse. Metallic, organic, he cannot be arsed to care.
"I..."
Viktor sighs. "Jayce. One step at a time. It is going to be hard, but that's how most things are," he steps closer as he talks, and Jayce is slightly ashamed of how relieved he feels. "I must leave now, but you will come by later. And if you don't, I will try and sneak up here tomorrow. We will make do. You are as stubborn as they come, I trust that to be instrumental in the reconstruction of us."
Carefully chosen words, those, and Jayce is ever so grateful for them. Fortified. They are true. He swallows around the knot in his throat and squeezes Viktor's hand one last time before letting go. Viktor nods, pats his arm, and strides purposefully away from his house.
Back in his room, Jayce sleeps better than he has in years.
-x-
Transhumanism in the magic and clockwork era: Challenges and opportunities is, as predicted, awfully dull but Naph, the kid that is in Viktor's lab sometimes, tears into it with enthusiasm and asks for more. Jayce is a bit alarmed and very pleased to see that bringing him things to read has become a routine, that spending time with Viktor, and Naph occasionally, is as much a part of his life as talking to boring academics or stabilizing his hammer's system.
"You're here again," Naph says, as Jayce walks to Viktor by the workbench, and there's a hint of caution in his tone. He dislikes Jayce, but that's fair enough because Jayce doesn't know how to talk to children. They're hard to figure out. "Did you bring me anything?"
He hands him a stack of papers and the boy holds them and frowns at them. The Ethics of Mechanics. Viktor wrote that one, back when they were in the Academy, and Naph's eyes light up when he scans the first page and reads the author's name.
Naph tugs at Vikor's sleeve and Jayce hides a snort with a cough. "You wrote this," he blurts, and Viktor glances his way and at the piece of paper he is holding up.
"I did, indeed. Many years ago," Viktor directs a pointed look Jayce's way, and he shrugs. "We can discuss it once you are done reading it, if you want to."
"Yeah, that would be cool," Naph replies, as he leafs through the pages, and Jayce is amazed by how eager he looks. He does like to read, has been happy to do so with everything Jayce has brought him, but he has never reacted like this. It's kind of endearing, as if he thinks of Viktor as a celebrity of sorts.
He might, for all he knows.
Jayce looks at Viktor while he works, leaning on the free side of the workbench. It's been months since their midnight conversation, and Jayce is full of longing. Lingering gazes and brief accidental touches can only maintain him for so long, and he's full to the brim with loving Viktor in brand new ways that he wasn't capable of when they were younger.
Quieter, more patient, grateful, focused on all those little details that make Viktor who he is. It's comfortable to bask in it, as disconcerting and annoying as waiting can be. But he can wait for as long as is needed. It's worth it.
Viktor is working on his own arm. The first time he saw it, it made him feel dizzy and nauseous but it was, admittedly, a fascinating process. Now, he's desensitized to it and can look at how Viktor tinkers at it without so much of a blink. It can be even calming, help him think, with how mundane it has become.
Jayce likes the idea.
"You didn't send those two persons to my lab," he asks, and Viktor stops with a wire halfway to his wrist but doesn't look up. It's a bit of a sore topic between them, one that they've tried to bring up sometimes but that most of the time finds them in the wrong mood to talk. Jayce figures that it's best to try and get rid of it once and for all.
"No, I did not. I don't put vials full of chemicals on people. It's not how I work. My hypothesis is that someone heard of the attack, was interested in your research, and tagged along," he can hear the name Viktor isn't saying in that someone, but doesn't push. Viktor connects the wire to a port in his wrist, flexes the fingers of his open arm, and hums. It's a pleased little sound that Jayce drinks up like an starved man.
"I figured as much, but it's good to know for sure."
Viktor seals his arm closed, and Jayce kind of misses the circuits and the metal inside. He wonders if Viktor would let him fiddle with the mechanisms one day and a shiver runs up his spine.
He is learning quite a few things about himself, during his visits to Zaun.
"Are we done with that topic for now?" Viktor seems snappish, but his expression reveals nothing. He looks calm, relaxed, and Jayce gets a little bit closer to him. Viktor glances his way but doesn't comment.
"Yes, we are. Done is done. I'm over it, anyway," he shrugs and Viktor nods. Good. He wants to talk about other things. He wants to talk about everything there is to talk about with him, and that is something incredible and amazing that Jayce himself has yet to stop marveling about.
They stay in comfortable silence for a little while, and Jayce looks at Viktor from the corner of his eye as he tidies the workbench. The blood is, in fact, Viktor's. He knows that now, after Viktor told him matter of factly and as if he were stupid that yes, he bleeds when he opens his arm to work on its mechanism.
He also told him that he doesn't feel the anticipation of pain, and Jayce still worries about that. Some of Viktor's ideas and choices still don't sit well with him, and some of his own are still hard for Viktor to get, but they're talking and that is more than he expected. As Viktor said, there's a long way to come. At least they have found a path to walk through.
"Viktor," he calls, and Viktor hums distractedly as an answer. "What do you think of disjunctive conjunctions."
Viktor doesn't say anything. He leans on his hands over the workbench for a second, turns to Jayce and kisses him hard, and deep and wonderful and everything that Jayce needed. He grabs onto Viktor's waist with both hands and tugs him closer, and Viktor prods at his lips with his tongue. Jayce can feel his heart beating in his chest, the front of his body pressing to Viktor trying to soak in his warmth, and is opening his mouth to let his tongue in when the sound of footsteps approaching makes him jump back.
"Er...sorry. I can leave you guys to it," Naph quips, looking rather pleased with himself. Jayce, albeit mortified, is too exhilarated to find it in himself to care. They have time. All the time in the world.
Viktor coughs, by his side. "It's fine, Naph. Did you want anything?"
"Ah, yes. I'm donde reading that," Jayce doesn't believe him, and judging by how Viktor crosses his arms and quirks an eyebrow he doesn't either. "I read fast. I have some questions? If that's okay?"
Viktor casts one last lingering gaze towards Jayce over his shoulder, that Jayce can feel burning him from the inside out, and turns to Naph.
"Of course. Questions are what make the world make sense, they can be more interesting than the answers."
Jayce looks at Viktor and Naph walking side by side to sit on a pair of chairs by a table, chattering away, and smiles.
#league of legends#jayce#viktor the machine herald#jayceviktor#fic#viktor league of legends#boy howdy
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ABUSE OF OFFICE OF THE BISHOP (PART ONE)
PROF. BEN ONYEUKWU (REV.)
NCE(Eng.) ND/HD (Journalism); BA (Hons) MA, PhD.
Call: +2348037346939 E-mail: [email protected]
ABUSE OF OFFICE OF THE BISHOP (PART ONE)
THE X-RAY
---“If a man desires the position of a bishop, he desires a good work. A
bishop then must be blameless, the husband of one wife, temperate,
sober-minded, of good behaviour, hospitable, able to teach, not
covetous, not given to wine, not violent, not greedy for money, but
gentle, not quarrelsome, one who rules his own house well”---(1
Timothy 3:1-4).
INTRODUCTION:
The New Webster’s Dictionary of the English Language defines episcopacy as a government of a church by bishops who have authority over priests and lower clergy, and alone have the power to confer the sacraments of holy orders and confirmation. Put specifically, Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia renders that a bishop is an ordained or consecrated member of the Christian clergy who is generally entrusted with a position of authority and oversight. The definitions above throw-up the enormous responsibility of bishops in churches with the Episcopal form of government. They also demonstrate the fact that the office of bishop is not for a novice, charlatan, reckless or self-seeking individual(s) who may not be knowledgeable or mindful of the demands of the office.
Kudos to the Catholic Church, the Anglican Communion and other forerunners of the Episcopal administration for their consistency in the search and consecration of credible persons as bishops. The commendation here does not ignore the fact that there are still lapses in the ecclesiastical governments of the aforementioned Christian denominations, nor does it seek to project them as superior to other Christian groups which have adopted the Episcopal system of Church government, possibly by reason of what is known as Apostolic Succession, for within the Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Oriental Orthodox Churches, in the Assyrian church of the East, in the Independent Catholic Churches and in the Anglican Churches, bishops claim Apostolic Succession, that is, a direct historical lineage dating back to the original twelve apostles. Also, some protestant Churches, including the Lutheran and Methodist Churches have bishops serving similar functions as well, though not always understood to be within apostolic succession. No doubt, the Pentecostal groups are in line with the latter category. Having highlighted on the above, please observe that.
OFFICE OF BISHOP IS NOT GENDER SENSITIVE
Without mincing words, the office of bishop is gender insensitive. There is nothing like the un-realistic arrogance of “what a man can do, a woman can do better” attached to this hallowed office. In this connection, God’s word states that ---“a bishop must be blameless, the husband of one wife”---(verse 2A). This very verse of the scripture fundamentally outlaws gay bishopric, as well as shows no consideration for female bishops or bishop-mrs, since it reads that a bishop must be a husband of one wife and not the wife of one husband. The verse equally shows that the Bible has no support for the evil of co-leadership style of a husband and wife emerging as a bishop and bishop-mrs or archbishop and bishop-mrs in a church. But, this unwholesome pattern of ecclesiastical leadership is becoming rampant in the Pentecostal movement, which is believed to parade implicit faith in the word of God. It is true that the book of Joel renders that God pours His Spirit upon all flesh, male and female, however, there is nowhere the scripture shows that the office of bishop is for the female folks, in whatever guise, though it favours the idea of granting them ordination into the lower cadre of the Christian clergy.
OFFICE OF BISHOP CALLS FOR CAPABILITY AND INTEGRITY
The office of bishop seeks to install those who possess the ability and moral courage to bear the burdens of the vocation,. This backs-up the fact that a bishop must be ---“temperate, sober-minded, of good behaviour, hospitable and able to teach”---(verse 2bff). Someone’s behaviour is temperate when it is calm and controlled by oneself or submissive to another. This means that a bishop must be a person of self-control, as well as one who allows the control of a superior officer, where there is one. The intemperate bishop makes himself a lord over the flock of God, since he is not subject to God or any person. The result is that such a bishop is often prone to gross immorality with women of easy virtue, careless spending of church funds, always cursing and yelling at members of his church, wife, friends, brothers, and sisters who may come up with useful corrections.
The sober-minded bishop possesses a good reasoning faculty. He plans his work with proper care, as well as demonstrates discretion and moderation in the discharge of his duty.This informs an attitude of genuine consideration of the weaknesses, strength and well-being of those he pastors or leads. But, most bishops today fall short of this quality, as they are only concerned with those things that gratify them. These charlatans who have taken undue advantage of the highest point of authority in God’s vineyard now display a very high degree of despicable, reckless and non-christian way of life in society. When a bishop is not sober-mind, he gives satan the opportunity of taking over his sense of judgment, and so, he may begin to lie, falsify church documents, sleep with his female assistants, engage in mindless display of material wealth and other anti-social behaviour which lead to eternal damnation. To this effect also, most bishops cannot speak out against corruption, because they are equally corrupt, they cannot say no to harsh government policies, because they share the same view with the world of wickedness, they cannot rebuke the erring politicians because they themselves are pulpit politicians. If one may ask, how can a bishop who is mindful of what comes out of government treasury really be mindful of the things of the kingdom of God? How can a bishop who is devoted to the interest of a corrupt government truly pursue the interest of a Holy God? How can a bishop who now preaches materially based sermons for self-enrichment do well in peaching the undiluted word of God? How can a bishop who has become a prayer warrior for government returns earnestly prayer for the people of God? What a tragedy!
Other good qualities of a bishop are that he must be hospitable and able to teach. Hospitality centers on one’s ability to gladly receive and attend to the needs and comfort of guests, whereas, the ability to teach is informed by one’s giftedness nurtured by good education. But, people are aware that certain bishops at present are not hospitable, since they can hardly take care of the needy and guests who come their way. It is on record that it is easier to visit a lion’s den than to visit the homes of most bishops. It is easier to break the walls of Jericho, than to have access to the offices of most bishops. It is easier to battle with a buffalo for food than to have this category of bishops share their food or personal effects with anybody. Most of them take delight in feeding their security dogs with the amount of money they can never approve as monthly salary for certain cadre of their pastoral staff. Yet, these bishops are supposedly chosen to uplift the people, and their homes and offices designed by God for the feeding, comfort and encouragement of His flock and others, especially the less privileged. It is unfortunate that this obnoxious lifestyle is currently being exhibited by bishops of almost every Christian denomination, but the most painful thing about it is that the Pentecostal bishops who are supposed to shine as light take the lead in the depravity.
Furthermore, and as cited above, one of the basic qualifications of a bishop is his ability to teach, and one can teach both by instruction and example. The truth of the matter is that one cannot give what one does not possess. To instruct others, one needs information through education, and for one to teach by example, one needs the virtues of the Christian faith. If so, how can a bishop without good education perform creditably as a teacher of God’s people in this era of intellectual harvest? How can a bishop teach by example if he has no relationship with the spirit of Christ. In this vein, the problem is that most bishops who mess-up the Episcopal office are either educationally half-baked or spiritually not connected to Christ or both. This is really a problem.
OFFICE OF BISHOP IS NOT FOR MONEY MONGERS AND COVETOUS INDIVIDUALS
“The love of money is said to be the root of all evil”--- and the Apostle Paul, no doubt, took cognizance of this in his pastoral epistle. In line with this, he remarks that --- a bishop must not be greedy for money, nor covetous”--- (verse 3a-c). This is a piece of advice often ignored by those bishops whose hearts have been imprisoned by the prince of darkness. The greed for money appears to be the most remarkable point for the abuse of office of bishop in recent times. The quest for the perishable things of this world and the unhealthy competition for recognition have bitterly brought many bishops to the worship of money, instead of God. Who is not aware of the activities of most of these false bishops who prophesy and pray for money? Who has not experienced the scourge of falsehood from these pretentious clerics whose stock-in-trade is to make merchandise of the people in the name of the Lord? The result is that these greedy episcopates with covetous tendencies become richer than every member of their denominations, parade the biggest luxury cars in town, boast of annual budgets bigger than that of the state, have their children and wards in the best of schools, in the country and overseas, at the expense of the needy members of their congregations and society who they suppose to be helping out of their problems. Yet, these ecclesiastical criminals with records of money laundering and other despicable activities remain uninvestigated in a country where there is a constitutional government. What a painful abuse of the office of bishop!
OFFICE OF BISHOP IS NOT FOR THE VIOLENT AND QUARRELSOME PERSONS
People who are quarrelsome are always having angry arguments, and if someone is violent or if they do something which is violent, they try to injure or kill people by using physical force or weapon. This, the Apostle Paul cautions against when he says, ---“a bishop should not be quarrelsome or violent”—(verse 3a and d). It is obvious that lack of prudence in the management of the resources of the church, dishonesty in decision making, undue delays of the promotion of the deserving members of the clergy, favoritism, highhandedness on the part of the presiding bishops or overseers, greed, inordinate ambition and more are the possible causes of angry arguments and wanton destruction of lives and property in most Christian groups. If everyone in the church is given what is due to them at the appropriate time, the show of unchristian outbursts and display of bestiality would never occur, unless from people with demonic ambitions.
Having said this, it becomes important to stress that disputes come up in churches when presiding bishops or leaders fail to honour those whom honour is due, by way of denying them what constitutionally belong to them, probably to favour their kinsmen. There is no gainsaying the fact that most bishops treat members of their pastoral team as slaves, instead of developing a brotherly relationship with them. This unhealthy development has often led to bitterness and rancour, as well as, force certain members of the clergy who do not want to be quarrelsome or violent to engage in unnecessary proliferation of mushroom churches. The Pentecostal bishops are also prominently guilty of this, and therefore, should repent of such a sin.
OFFICE OF BISHOP IS FOR THE GENTLE AND GOOD FAMILY LEADERS
A bishop, as well must be a gentle person and one who rules his own house well--- (verse 3dand 4a). A gentle person is kind, mild and pleasantly calm. This is one of the leadership qualities that makes for effective family control. But the harsh, fierce or violent individual is the opposite, and a bishop should not be chosen from this brand of persons, the Bible says. The scripture under review also holds that a bishop must be one who rules one’s family well. This portrays a divine yardstick to determine who becomes a bishop or not. It reveals also that one’s ability to control one’s household demonstrates if one would do well if consecrated a bishop. But, certain individuals and churches have deliberately refused to regard the rules governing the selection of one who must occupy the episcopal seat, whereby abusing it. Available statistics shows that the family records of most bishops are nothing to write home about, as their wives and children take the lead in immorality and other anti-social behaviour. What a shame!
In conclusion, please note that this work is not an attempt to indict any religious group. For a subjective reader may quickly conclude that the writer has taken a stand of judgment against the Pentecostal movement. This is definitely far from the truth, as the piece is just a wake-up call to sanitize the office of bishop, which the writer strongly desires to occupy one day. PRAY FOR BISHOPS.
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