#it's okay to be selfish. you need to be selfish to start to recover. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zygomantic · 8 days

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Nanami comforting a sad/depressed fem reader after he comes home from work. (Had a horrible day/week and need any kind of comfort)

A/n: Honestly same. Always happy to provide comfort, thank you for your request! This is very short but it is what it is. Also, reader could be considered gender neutral.

You're not alone.

Synopsis: Your husband Nanami comes home from work and finds you crying on the couch. He helps you through it.

Content Warnings: Mentioned Depression, negative thoughts

You blankly stared at the TV, which by now had been running for multiple hours. You'd spent your hours flicking through channels and streaming services, hoping to find anything interesting to pass the time until your husband came home.

Your frustration grew the longer you searched. Why did this have to be so complicated? Fuck, it just added to the pile shit that didn't work like you wanted to. Your job was stressing you out and you knew the next months weren't going to be any more relaxed. Nanami was just as busy, mission after mission keeping him away from home. You missed him but didn't fault him for doing his job.

Since this morning you were feeling down, and though you'd struggled with depression in the past, it usually didn't creep up this fast or suddenly. You knew very well that you were still recovering and that recovery wasn't a linear process, but a small part of you felt disappointed in yourself for feeling like this again.

Or maybe you felt comfortable like this. It was so easy, so familiar. If you were really on the way back to depression, you didn't think you had any strength left to pull you out of it again and forcing Nanami to help you made you feel selfish. It wasn't his problem that your mind was broken and your thoughts shitty.

It was all too much and your nose started burning, then your eyes watered and you didn't bother stopping the tears as they escaped. A headache had begun to form in the back of your head and you just sobbed harder.

By the time a key turned in the front door lock your face was soaked with tears and your eyes were red and puffy. You must've looked horrible, because Nanami's eyes furrowed as he walked into the room and saw you. You hadn't even hear him call out your name when he entered, too absorbed in your thoughts.

Nanami didn't bother hanging up his jacket, just dropped it to the floor and immediately made his way over to you. His hand was on your back, rubbing soothing circles into it as he tried to figure out what was wrong. First, however, he needed you to breathe.

"Darling, can you hear me?" His voice must've registered somewhere in your mind because you nodded, despite having already forgotten what he asked. "Good," he said, continuing his comforting. "I need you to breathe, dear. You remember the box breathing, right?" Another nod. "Alright. Now breathe in for four," he instructed and you tried to follow, not counting the seconds but still trying. "Hold for four," you did, "and exhale for four. Now pause for four."

It became easier after the first minute and Nanami walked you through every second of it. Once you'd gotten your breathing back under control, new tears threatened to escape at the though of how much of a burden you were. Always making him take care of you like you're a child or baby, how embarrassing.

"Don't." You looked up at your husband in confusion. "I can tell when you're thinking poorly of yourself. Don't do that. Please."

Your voice was quiet as you answered. "Okay." You pulled your legs up under the blanked and curled up into a ball.

Nanami's hand was still rubbing your back. "Can you tell me what caused this? What's going on? "

"I'm sorry. Sorry." Tears streaked down your face and Nanami's warm, big hand swiped them away carefully.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. We all have our off days. I'm sorry yours had to be today." His voice was so deep, so comforting, almost like a light to cling to while the rest of the world was trying to drown you.

"Work's just been..." You trailed off, not really wanting to think about all the things you had to do and the insane amount of paperwork that had to filed until the end of the not to mention the coworker that-

"Stressful?" His voice ripped you out of your thoughts again. "I get what that's like. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I- just don't leave. Please. I don't want to go back to feeling like I did months ago. I can't- I-" Your throat closed up just speaking about theast time your depression hit you hard.

"I'm not letting you do this alone. I promise." His hand pulled you into his body for a hug and you melted into him. "I'm here for you. Always."

"Thank you." He almost didn't hear you, you were so quiet. "Thank you so much."

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cherriesformatt · 2 months

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baby blues || matt sturniolo part 4

matt x fem!reader

summary: you bring your baby home but nothing feels like it should you try your best to hide your feelings from matt but that never works because he knows his girl...

warnings: postpartum depression, sad, mood swings, kind of angst

word count: 1,4k

a/n: I think that might be the last part but idk let me know! Also thank you for almost 200 followers that's crazy!

🍒

The day we brought Noa home was one of the hardest days in my life. I barely could walk, I was hurting and bleeding a lot. My body was sore and didn't look like my body at all. The amount of people in our house gave me so much head ache. I was glad that everyone came and our moms are here. They cooked and bonded together even if they did not see each other before in real life. My mom did flight from Europe to be with us for two weeks so she could help.

I was so tired but I could not sleep. I was so scared something will happen to Noa. I tried my best to smile and talk to everyone so Matt would not get even more worried.

The moment I started to worry myself was that the feeling never left. Two weeks passed and I felt like I was living in someone else's body. I did not feel like myself. I was feeling so exhausted and guilty.

I would find myself having panic attacks in the middle of the night or day and hid hid in the bathroom also no-one would know.

Matt was so natural about all the baby stuff. Changing her diapers, feeding her, putting clothes on her. I was so scared that I was doing everything not to do all of this.

Today I barely even held her in my arms. I did not want to.

It was her bedtime. Matt gave her a bath while I got ready her pajamas and everything on the changing table.

"Don't forget her monitoring sock" I said watching him getting her ready to bed. She looked so small in her sleep swaddle.

"I know baby... I already did, she is all good and ready. Do you want to try to feed her today?" He looked at me with small smile.

I shook my head quickly and pointed at the bottle on the stand next to the rocking chair.

Whole pregnancy I was thinking I am going to feed her but I couldn't I only pumped so she could use a battle. I was scared she is going to choke and it is going to be my fault.

"Okay... that's okay I am going to feed her and put her down" He said as I left the room.

I checked on my phone if the camera and sock monitor were working and went down the stairs.

I started cleaning after dinner. My plate was almost full. I did not feel hungry those days. I made myself to eat so I had enough supplies for the baby.

"Hi... y/n..." Matt walked into the kitchen looking at me while I was putting last dishes away.

He looked tired and worried. Bags under his eyes bigger than usual. But he looked good. His outfit was nice, his hair was fresh and he smelled nice. I felt like a crap next to him.

"She's asleep?" I asked looking at my phone to check on the baby.

"Yes, she is all okay... Baby we need to talk" He put my phone down and connected our fingers together. The other hand rested on my chick and he stroked it gently.

"Look at me..." He said and I did.

"What's wrong sweet girl? You hurting... I can see it but I can't help if you don't talk to me..." He said not sure how to start this conversation.

"How did you..." I wanted to ask but he interrupted me.

"Of course I know... do you think I don't see you constantly worried, you barely even sleep. I hear your crying...I just.. I didn't know what to do, how to help you. But I can't look at it anymore. Y/n you don't even hold her anymore..." He says, his eyed watered.

"She needs you the same as she needs me... fuck she needs you more. I am trying my best so you could recover. But I can't do it by myself baby... tell me what's wrong" He holds me and I do not know what to say.

I feel my body started to shake and I started to cry. I felt awful. So selfish and like the worst mother.

" Shh... I'm sorry... I shouldn't say that..." He regrets starting the conversation after I broke into pieces in front of him for the first time.

" No... you are right... Im the worst mother in the world" I said stepping away from him.

"That is not true baby" He put his hands on my hips and he looked at me with worry.

"Oh but it is... you do all of it... so smooth.... I can even hold her without being scared I hurt her...I can't even look her in the eyes because I hate myself Matt" I said really quiet.

" Honey..." he started and I couldn't help myself I just cried.

I felt his sarong arms around my body. He picked me up and moved us to the couch. He held me close to him on his lap and kissed my temple.

"Sh....I m so sorry you are feeling this way...I want to help you baby... but I do not know if I can...how can I help" She whispered and stroke my back rocking us.

He waited for me to calm down and when I did I looked at him.

"I'm sorry Matt.. I am so sorry for everytung... I love you both so so much but I can't... I can't do it Matt... I am so scared.... " I said.

"I am here baby... We are going to get threw it together okay?" He brushed my hair from my face with his fingers.

"I think I need help..." I said first time ever thinking about it out loud.

He kissed my head again and nodded.

I started attending meetings in the same week. With small steps and with Matt by my side. I felt better and better. I started to be happy and started spending time with Noa without feeling guilty all the fucking time.

" Hi mama...." Matt said holding Noa in his brothers kitchen when I walked in.

That was a month from our conversation. Noah was 1,5 months old. She was healthy and happy. There best baby in the whole world.

"Hello everyone... How was work day with daddy? Did you scream so everyone would find out about you?" I kissed Noa's little nose and Matts lips. He laughed at what I said. The boys waved at me.

"She did not... still daddy's little secret but a hungry one" He said.

"But we needed to start filming three times because I couldn't stop staring at her" Chris said.

They both loved Noa so much but she was a soft spot for Chris. I already know he is going to spoil her so much.

"I know I know let me wash my hands first" I went to the sink, washed my hands and took her into my arms.

"Please no boobs showing out here" Nick said and I rolled my eyes.

"Not for free... I am going to Matts room and then you can show me the video?" I look at Nick.

"Yes! I am so exited" He said.

I went to feed little miss. It felt great to be able to do it and enjoy it. Thanks to that I feel like it helped me to built the connection I lost with my baby blues. This month was hard for me but I finally see the sun. She was in front of me this whole time but now I can fully enjoy and embrace being a mom. I know that after this I will be never scared to ask for help ever again.

" I missed you..." I kissed her head after she is done eating and fix my bra and shirt and walked back to the kitchen.

"We're ready!" I said walking to the boys on the couch.

Nick started to play the video when I sat next to Matt. It was mix of me being pregnant and little video of our photoshoots during pregnancy and at the end there was a black screen with little Noa crying after she was born.

We decided that it is time to share the news with the world. We do not want to show her face but we do want the world to know about her.

"Lets do it..." I said and wiped my tears of happy memories from my cheeks.

" Yes... lets do it" Matt kissed me on the lips and I smiled even more.

" I love you..."I said and she smiled as well.

"I love you both to the moon and back" He hugged me and kissed Noas head.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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hotluncheddie · 5 months

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high masking autistic steve snippet - a follow on from this and this

wc: 2.5k | rated: T | cw: none | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie but again this is about steve), hurt/comfort, established relationship, stimming

ao3

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Steve is spending the evening doing one of his new things. Where he takes time to just be. It’s recovering, or Stevie time, or whatever Eddie and Robin have decided it should be called.

He’s alone basically, and it’s nice, because he’s letting it be nice. Letting it be restful.

It’s for when he’s had a meltdown. Or can feel one coming on, because now he’s starting to recognise what overstimulation feels like on his skin. How it prickles at the back of his neck if his breaks cut short, makes his vision vignette if something too unexpected happens.

Learned that after something like that he’ll need to rest. Needs time.

And it’s not lazy. It’s not. (Sometimes it still feels like it is.) (Weak…that word always plays in the deep, scathing tone of his father’s voice…and selfish.)

He’s on the couch, it’s dark, he actually feels really comfortable, and he’s watching The Breakfast Club. Watching it again. It’s his favourite, it feels like his. But he doesn’t like watching it with other people because they might notice how much he likes it and he doesn’t want that. Can’t be seen like that.. Embarrassing.

So he watches it alone, when he gets home from work. He pauses whenever he wants, rewinds, pauses. Takes a deep breath, rewinds, pauses, stares into space.

He also pauses to eat the snack he brought in. Actually tasting the food bc it’s the only thing he has to focus on. No lights, no sounds. He forgot how much he likes oranges when they’re ripe. Harder to taste if he has to listen at the same time. So, on a day like today, he lets himself do stuff one step at a time.

It’ll probably take him double the normal run time to get all the way to the end. But who cares? It’s his time.

The weird girl’s parents driving off; that feels like him. The jock’s Dad letting him off easy; that doesn’t feel like him. ‘No schools gonna give a scholarship to a discipline case.’ Maybe that does feel like him. Before through. A long time ago now.

He claps sometimes. Keening high in his throat, a little happy hum that he only lets himself do when he’s alone like this. He does it after he whistles the same tune they do. And during the scene of them running around the corridors. It’s exiting. Makes his lips stretch wide and his feet flap around. He claps. Once. Twice. It feels good.

He laughs at the characters. How they merge together with bits of his friends. He feels that swell of happy sad emotion looking at the jock when he first comes in, acting above the others, only seeing Molly Ringwald. He lives through a couple flashbacks of himself. Resigns to actually watch them, sit in them, begins to process who he was. Who he’s becoming now. Something like forgiveness tasting sweet on his tongue. He cries a little; that swelling and shifting as buried emotion finally passes. It overcomes him sometimes when he lets his mind relax.. He rewinds, and he laughs.

“Stevie?”

Steve starts, fingers tangle in the blanket in his lap. Brain slow to process the change, the information. Eddie slipping through the door and coming over to him. Eddie dipping to look at Steve’s face, trying to catch Steve’s eye. Eddie smelling like cigarettes and crisp autumn air, it’s nice, but, it’s a lot. Panic sits bubbling somewhere in him. He wasn’t expecting this.

“…Eddie?”

“Hey sweetheart. I know you had a shitty day, but Wayne’s at home with a headache and he needs to sleep it off. Wouldn’t’ve been able to stay quiet enough for him.”

Steve breaths in and out a little quickly. Eyes wide.

Maybe it’s okay. Eddie knows he had a bad day. Maybe it’s okay.

“I’ll sit in the kitchen, work on my campaign, just forget I’m here.” Eddie speaks quietly, almost a whisper.

He stares at his hand in his lap. “..You won’t, listen?” Steve feels small. Knows he’s not, his frame broad and strong. But, he needs small. Wants his world small tonight, slow. Wants to stay hidden. Him and the couch and the film and nothing else.

Eddie just shakes his walkman and smiles (in that pointy way that makes Steve’s toes curl).

“Kay” Steve whispers, still wary, off kilter. But accepts the kiss Eddie drops on his head, tangling their fingers together for a breath. Steve leans forward for a kiss on the lips. It’s deep, and lovely. Steve can smell Eddie’s cologne. Feels where the chill bit at Eddie’s nose. He shivers.

“No cooking.” Steve mumbles while their lips are still close. Small smile pulling at his face, eyes sharp, waiting for Eddie to get it.

Eddie groans quietly in embarrassment but his eyes are soft and molten and Steve’s toes curl up again. “Course not baby, not again. Once you’re hungry just come through, yeah? Make us something nice.”

And the light of the kitchen doesn’t reach the couch. And Eddie listens to his walkman loud. And Steve’s safe. It’s Eddie. He’s not listening. Steve’s safe.

His favourite scene; Bender and Claire in the stock cupboard. The way he looks so shocked, the way she bites her lip. ‘Why’d you do that?’ ‘Because I knew you wouldn’t.’ Steve whispers as they do. Claps. It’s such a good scene. He’s exited. He claps again. Rewinds to just watch her face. Rewinds to just watch his. Rewinds and watches the whole scene again. Wraps his arms around his middle and squeezes. Pauses on the kiss. He rubs his fingers agains his mouth. Giddy excitement bubbles in his belly. He hums high and happy again. He loves this movie.

The weird girl gets a makeover, the jock really likes it. He feels like the weird girl sometimes, maybe Eddie can be his jock. Maybe he should get a makeover. Maybe keep growing out his hair. Maybe Eddie would like that.

The credits roll. Bender’s fist in the air. Steve drifts on the couch, eyes closed. He breaths deep, his stomach growls.

He pads through to Eddie. Squinting. Too bright. “D’you mind?” He motions to the lights, his eyes too adjusted to the dark and he doesn’t even wanna try and adjust them back.

‘‘Cause. What we making?”

Steve hums, goes into the pantry to see what’s easy. Eddie slips in behind him, hand on his waist. “Pasta?” Steve asks but Eddie doesn’t reply, just turns him gently. Nudging him to step back into the corner.

Eddie looks at him, dips forward to place a slow kiss on his neck. “Why’d you do tha..’ Steve’s words dry up in his throat.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t” and Eddie’s eyes are sparking with glee.

Eddie heard him.

He listened.

Steve’s feels himself flush hot, embarrassed and ashamed. “Ah, I, uh.” He can’t explain it, why he had to watch it so many times, why it makes him so exited. He crosses his arms over his chest. Turns back to the shelves of food and picks a can at random. Shoving out of the room.

“Steve?”

Eddie said he wouldn’t. He listened in on him. He said he wouldn’t. He’s making fun of him. Steve knew he should’ve told Eddie to go home.

“Stevie? What’s wrong?” But Steve doesn’t want to talk to him. He’s so angry, So ashamed, of himself. What if Eddie heard him clap too, heard him make that high noise, like a fucking baby, like some freak.

He puts the can on the counter with way too much force, corn, not what he fucking wanted. His hands are shaking. He stares at them, wills his tears to stay behind his lash line. He got too comfortable, he can’t do that. Why is it so hard to pretend now, when it used to be so easy.

“Steve, tell me what I did, please.”

“‘M fine” Steve’s insides feel too big, pushing against his skin, itchy all over. He squeezes himself around his middle again, digging his fingers in hard.

“Don’t do that, you know I hate when you bullshit like that.” Half lovely, half scathing.

The word stinks, a stab to the gut. But Steve gets it, he does, they talked about it. He bites his lip, hard.

Its old habits or whatever. Because Steve, he loved fine. Liked sinking his teeth into it; toxic waste green coating his mouth and lungs. Thick and delicious. Because fine gets you out of it. Fine gives you translucency. Controlled balance. Everything appearing a none issue, the perfect in-between. Steve was perfect at coming off as something to not worry about, someone to be ignored. It used to work in all situations; can’t get told off if you’re fine, cant do anything wrong, teachers didn’t look twice, his parents wouldn't shout. By staying half alive, never letting anyone too close, never filling your lungs up all the way. That was the fine Steve adored.

“You were literally just watching a movie. I dunno what the big deal is.” and there’s frustration, confusion, in Eddie, Steve thinks. He feels himself tense up, glance over.

Eddie must see something on his face. See that scared little animal prowling around within him. Because Eddie softens, his voice gentle. “Steve.. it’s nothing I hadn’t heard before.’ And Steve’s teeth clamp together with a click. He’s done that, his clap and his high hum, in front of Eddie before? Steve tries to swallow, he can’t, a lump too big and sticky in his throat.

He can’t look him in the face, angry tears still threatening to spill “You said you wouldn’t listen.” He’s mumbling. He sounds even more like a kid. Stupid. Grow up.

“I heard a little but I was just flipping the tape over, I wasn’t trying to snoop on you Stevie… You just, you sounded happy.”

Steve huffs. Glances at Eddie. That soft underbelly of his whining, because with Eddie, Steve yearns. Yearns for close. Yearns to be seen, and understood.

“You didn’t mean to?”

“No, it was just when I was turning the tape.”

Steve forces a deep breath.

“You think I’m weird. You hate me.” He whispers it like it’s true. A big part of him believes it, his tears welling up. Feels rejected. Knows that feeling too well. Hates it.

“Always like you Steve. Always.”

Steve grunts, a tear slips out, rolls down his cheek.

“‘M embarrassed” comes out like an ugly sob. Steve scrubs his palms on his cheeks, feeling how red hot they are. Glaring at the countertop. “I’m embarrassed!” But it’s just Eddie. It was just Eddie.

Eddie comes over, slowly draping himself over Steve’s back. “Nothin' to be embarrassed about, love.” And Eddie leaves soft kisses on Steve’s neck, squeezes his waist. “You looked cute on the couch like that. Like it when you’re happy.” Steve tries taking another deep breath but it shudders.

Embarrassed, angry, sad. Embarrassed, confused, angry. Frustrated, embarrassed. Tired.

Emotions wash over him. He’s learning to try and just feel them, name them, pick them apart. Some bubble back up to the surface, some only needed to be seen once.

Steve turns to bury his face in Eddie’s neck. He sighs, rubs his face into Eddie’s warm skin. shaking his head, likes how his lips feel moving against edie’s soft parts.

Tired, hungry, embarrassed, hungry.

“’M tired. I dunno what to eat.” He whispers, and then because he said it it’s like there’s space in his brain. “Want pasta.”

“Pasta it is then. And then we can sleep, yeah?” Eddie rocks them gently side to side, kisses the side of his head and slips away. Goes to get the box from the pantry, puts the corn back. Steve gets a pot out of the cupboard.

Staring into the water, the tips of his fingers prickle. Steve fizzes with energy and emotion. All pent up and annoying him. Needs it out. He clicks the flame on.

He starts pacing around the kitchen island. In big striding, stomping steps. “Ugh! You think I’m weird. Some weird guy who acts weird and does weird shit.” Steve grumbles. Annoyed. He smacks his palm quick and hard against the counter top. Keeps stomping.

Eddie comes back and starts following. Stomping and prancing like some court jester. “I like that you’re weird! You know, I have one episode of the Twilight Zone taped. It’s my third one. I watched the other two so much the tapes broke.’ Steve lets a little shout slip from him “Ha!” bubbly and forceful. Dislodging something within him. Like when a tooth finally falls out.

Feels good.

“I only like one brand of spaghetti hoops. Wayne once bought me a multipack for Christmas. Best fucking gift I ever got.” and Steve’s laughing now. Giggling and manic and still stomping around the island.

“I like how it feels to brush my teeth. I’ve never had a filling. I fucking love brushing my teeth, Eddie.” and that makes Eddie laugh now too. Two freaks stomping around the kitchen. A king and his jester, lit up by moonlight.

Steve turns the corner and stops short, still giggling. Eddies bent at one knee, presenting the box of pasta to him. “My liege.”

Steve claps, hums, high and keening. The waters boiling.

“How’d you feel now?’ Eddie asks around a mouthful of cheesy pasta.

Steve curls up tighter into the corner of couch, wraps both hands around the warm bowl. Glances at Eddie across from him. “Still kinda embarrassed.”

Eddie looks so soft, so kind, across from him. “I’m embarrassed too, to be honest. You love that movie, I thought you’d like me doing that. Kinda like when we, when we kissed upside-down, like I was Spider-man” Eddies sentence get quieter towards the end, mumbly, spoked into his bowl, cheeks dusted pink.

Steve strains to hear him. Smiles once he puts the words together.

He shovels pasta in his mouth. Eyes closed. “You are so annoying Eddie Munson. Why’d you even come here tonight, you coulda gone anywhere.” Steve sinks further into the couch, it’s really good pasta.

“Missed you.” Eddie says it like it’s simple, easy, and warmth drips over Steve’s skin.

Eddie clears his throat, Steve feels him fidget. “Wanna maybe.. You think we could live together one day? Want you to be able to do whatever you want with me around Steve. Breakfast Club on all the time at our place, kay?” And Steve’s throat constricts, that’s a big change, living with someone, moving out. But maybe with Eddie it could be okay, if they did it together, slow.

“Yeah, kay. One day.” Softly, bit by bit. Little bits. Steve can get there. Let Eddie in, let Eddie see. “But no to Breakfast Club on all the time.” Because some times, some days, some things, are just for him. Steve needs it that way. And that’s okay.

He stretches out further on the couch, feeling syrupy and nice, easy smile playing at his lips. “I like it when you kiss my neck though, you can do that again.” And that makes Eddie grin all pointy, put their bowls to the side and crawl over him.

Steve’s toes curl and he hums, high and happy.

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tagging those who asked mwah! @2jug2head @lil-gremlin-things

but also people who i think might be interested (sorry if ur not lmk and i won't again) @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @steventhusiast @sugarcookiesteve @spectrum-spectre @irethsune

#hope u enjoy!!#autistic steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #hotlunch #my fic #once again #steve harrington needs a hug #and once again #he gets one #lmk if u liked it #i can’t tell u how many times i’ve watched the breakfast club dude #there’s just something about it

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recreationalfanfics · 1 year

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Hi 💞I just discovered your account and I read all of Ror yandere's posts and I think your writing is the best I've ever read for Ror ✨✨. So I decided to place an order. This is the first time I order on any account 😅 So what about yandere poseidon, Thor, Buda, hades (if you don't read the manga, put Loki instead of him please) with a reader like Hinata Hyuga, shy, sweet, and heir to a powerful clan, but people think she's Weak and they prefer her sister, and she loves someone other than the yandere, and that other person is not aware of her feelings, and he loves another girl. You can choose if the reader is a god or a human. English is not my first language, so sorry if it is not understood 💀💀

I READ HINATA HYUGA AND INSTANTLY KNEW I HAD TO DO THIS REQUEST, SHE IS MY QUEEN. The reader will be human! I ALSO WANTED TO ADD THOR BUT I DIDN'T HAVE THE MOTIVATION SORRY-

chsjgjejc, she's so pretty I'm gonna cry

Yandere! Buddha x Hinata Hyuga! Reader:

- He loves you from right off the bat okay, your beliefs align so well with his and while people seemed to be ignorant about your strength, though he supposes thats what he liked most about you. You weren't just a demure and anxious woman, you had so many more layers to you.

- You were loving, absolutely passionate about those whom you loved and cared about. From your first fight, you showed your true strength and it really impressed Buddha.

- I'm gonna be honest, his feelings for you were genuinely wholesome and sweet from the start. He liked you and he was nice to you, yet when he tried to approach you romantically; you didn't shy away but confidently told him there was someone else. He was dissapointed...ah...so you already had a s/o? He shouldn't be surprised, you're amazing-

- Oh...they weren't your s/o? That's...interesting. He starts to look into this mortal that you seem to be so infatuated with and, well, he doesn't like what he finds. This person has the most desirable person in the world at their feet and they just act like she isn't there???

- How!? Buddha's world light's up once you enter the room. Everything around him seems brighter and more full of life, much so to the point that he notices when you're not around him, everything feels more lonely and sad. It doesn't make sense how they have you in the palm of their hands and yet, still want to have someone else.

- Buddha's obsession LITERALLY starts because of this, he is so close to winning your heart, he knows it! Every shy smile you give him when you compliment him, the way you blush but thank him when he hands you a snack, and how you confide in him. He nearly has you, his heart at his fingertips. But then that person just smiles at you once and you're cruelly pulled back to them. Maintaining a one-sided loyalty.

- Buddha is definetly one of the more smarter yanderes, he could actually manage to manipulate you into giving up your crush. Yeah, he might stalk and spy on you in secret but he'll project his yandere tendencies onto you. Saying how he's concerned with YOUR obsessive behavior (all while keeping his own a secret) and manipulating you saying it was selfish of you to hold onto them when they want someone else. He asks: "Do you truly love them? Because if you were, you'd let them find their happiness...even if it doesn't include you..."

- If he manages to get through to you, perfect! He just needs to capture your interest which isn't hard (look at that man and tell me you wouldn't fall in love, I dare you) since he'd help you recover from your broken heart and put all the broken pieces together. He is now the one you look at during fights, he is now the one you devote your endless love too, and it gives him such an ego boost.

- Yeah, maybe he didn't take his own device but in his defense; you were already the perfect and ideal match for him and he knew you'd love him back...he just had to get rid of the little nuisance that was keeping you from realizing your true feelings.

- If there is the slight chance you do realize he's trying to manipulate you or that your feelings are too strong for your crush, he will just straight up tell you that they DO NOT LOVE YOU. THEY WILL NEVER LOVE YOU. NOT THE WAY HE DOES. Why...why can't you see that???

Yandere! Poseidon x Hinata Hyuga! Reader:

- NO BECAUSE, LIKE, IF THE READER IS HINATA THEN POSEIDON IS DEFINETLY TONERI, JUST A BIT DIFFERENT BUT BASICALLY: POSEIDON FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU, A NEW GODDESS.

- LIKE, HE ABSOLUTELY FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU SOMEHOW DESPITE YOU BEING A HUMAN (to clarify: you caught his eye when you were a legal consenting adult) AND THAT YOU DEFINETLY HAD AN EFFECT ON HIM WITHOUT REALIZING IT.

- He admired you so much and loved you so dearly, in his mind, he hated all humans but maybe...maybe YOU were the one destined for him, you did not digust him at all, and while everyone in your clan had exceptional talent, YOU were the best, even being deemed as "The Bykaugan Princess".

- When you enter Ragnarok, you do it to protect humanity but also for love...Sadly, not for Poseidon's love but for the love of a human who didn't even notice you! One who you gave your heart and soul too and yet, they didn't even spare a second glance in your direction.

- While Poseidon loved you, he hated the person you fell in love with because they reminded him of every aspect he hated about humanity. Their arrogance for taking your love for granted, their ignorance as they never noticed the longing looks that you gave them, and their obnoxiousness as they casually brushed you off. YOU WERE FIGHTING IN RAGNAROK BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO PROTECT HUMANITY, BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY: THEM.

- It IRKED Poseidon because he was jealous of a human. He doesn't blame you for having a crush on them, he sees how gentle your heart is and how your kindness is simply too much for your heart to hold for itself so you share it with others.

- No, he was upset at everyone around you. Those who talked down to you, looked down at you for how you acted (even though you couldn't help but be a living symbol of elegance and perfection) but if they had watched you like Poseidon had, that you were far from what they thought about you. You were mighty and you were strong, especially for those who you loved.

- He wanted to romance you, he truly did. He showed his softer self to you when he was able to be around you and tried his best to not look so intimidating but it just wasn't enough. For some reason, that disgusting person you adored was taking Poseidon's place in your heart. It was their fault he couldn't court you like how he wanted because they somehow made you obsessed with him!

- He had to resort to such nasty methods. Maybe he kidnapped your sister like how Toneri did and made you marry him to garuntee her safety. Maybe he threatened to use his position as a God to make sure your little crush suffers, hell, you did kill one of his fellow Gods so he's sure he could get some other God's in targeting your crush as revenge.

- He hated seeing that fearful look on your face but when you finally submitted to him, he couldn't deny it made his heart beat faster. He knows you only went because you care too much about people but he isn't too upset because he knows, after a while, you will realize that HE is the one you should be obsessed with and loyally devoted to because unlike that pathetic human, he will return it ten fold♡

Yandere! Loki x Hinata Hyuga! Reader:

- Aw, you're a pathetic little mouse, aren't you?~ You started out as an obsession right off the bat to him, honestly. Your eyes are what caught his attention but you were so timid and neglected, poor thing♡ He approached you long before the fights started but saw you during the preparations of the whole thing and ah, you were simply too adorable to resist.

- But then when he sees you fight with the Gentle Fist technique for the first time then he is obsessed with you, so the little mouse does have some fight in her, huh? And yet, as soon as the battle is over and he pins you to the wall after your victory. You start to get nervous and stutter and he chuckles and murmurs a: "How precious~" before he lets you scamper off like the cute mouse you are.

- He borders on the line of being all lovey dovey with you and being absolutely mean to you. Like, you're upset because you realized Brunhilde meant to pick your sister instead and asked if you were willing to trade but you just tried to argue that you can handle it...well, tried. You ended up nearly in tears so Brunhilde left to "give you sometime to think it over." which really meant she just couldn't deal with you.

- "Aw, poor little mouse, once more; only the second choice to their big sister." Loki teased. You tried to wipe your tears, not wanting him to he mean to you like he usually is but you couldn't stop them. He just feigns another sound of sympathy as he reaches over and brushes your tears away with his thumb and squishes your face cutely as he smiles, "If it helps, I think that you're much better than your big sister. She's so mean and boring, but you're simply adorable."

- His bullying can also stem from the fact that you love someone other than him, which pisses him off. Usually, he'd be angry at you but he's even angrier when he sees that the person you've given your heart too DOESN'T EVEN WANT IT. AND YET YOU NEVER GIVE UP TRYING TO PROVE YOURSELF WHEN LOKI IS RIGHT THERE. Okay maybe he's a little mad at you but only because despite your all-seeing eye, HE IS BETTER FOR YOU. Yes he's a little mean but that's just because he loves you♡

- He'll bully your crush out of you too. Mocking you for wanting someone who doesn't want you, how you should just give up on them because they're never going to notice you, not the way that Loki does. They will never love you.

- And as your once more crying from his hurtful words, he once more pulls you into a gentle and loving hug and nuzzles his face into your neck: "Aw, they're never gonna want you. Not when that girl is a much better match for them. So you should just give up and be with me instead! I can be so much more for you♡"

- He truly does envy your crush, though. When you're not being sad, you truly are beautiful. The shy yet dreamy smiles you have, the way your eyes flare with admiration and pure love, your face becoming so beautiful that no painting or photo could truly capture your beauty. Loki gets upset when he gets reminded that its not for him.

- He will shape-shift into your crush sometimes as a cruel joke but you never fall for it because of your eyes, but he'll taunt you with it and be all: "Would you give me a kiss now, (Y/n)? Hmm? If I looked like them? If I acted like them?" and you just look him dead in the eyes, your confidence coming out as you glare and say: "No, because my heart belongs to them. And you will never be them."

- You're so pathetic in his eyes. He could destroy you for talking to him like that and you both knew it, yet you risked it all because you loved this person with such passion from the depths of your heart. You fought for humanity not just because it was right but because they'd be destroyed along with it and you'd never let any harm come to them. You will unfailingly run to them again and again just to get your heartbroken but you're willing to endure it because you love them. And as Loki feels what could only be described as heartbreak from your words, he realizes that you've made him just as pathetic as you are...

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sosa2imagines · 5 months

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I had my dance and now I'm where I belong. Part 3

----------------------------------------------------- Warning- Angst, lots of fluff. ----------------------------------------------------- Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 -----------------------------------------------------

After a much needed rest when you opened your eyes you saw your bags packed, Nat and Steve talking smiling. "Nat?" "Rise and shine" she sang" "Hi and why are my bags packed? I'm not coming back Nat not now" "Of course you are not" "I have not left the team" you pout making Nat chuckle "I will not let you leave for that asshole" you gave her a glare and she just shrugged her hands leaving you perplexed "Can someone explain to me what's going on" "You are leaving this crappy place and moving in with me" you were going to argue but he continued "My apartment in Brooklyn has two bedrooms with attach bathrooms and I can use a roommate and who is better than you." "No Steve I really appreciate you doing this for me but I can't I'll be nothing but a burden on you" Nat roll her eyes and Steve quirked his brow "Let me rephrase I'm not asking you I'm telling you, now get up we are leaving in ten" "But....!" "I really don't mind to put you over my shoulder if that's what you want!" "Yup that's what she wants" Nat chimed and you answer by throwing a pillow in her direction. "Alright fine I'll move in!"

Steve's house was beautiful "You go take a nice warm shower, meanwhile I’ll order a pizza and fix our rooms and we can clean rest of the apartment tomorrow okay?" "Okay..." when you turn the shower on and felt the hot water it was like a shield broke after a month you got to know the difference between cold and hot you felt your body relaxing a bit some kind of weight being lifted away. When you got out you look at yourself closely in the mirror your eyes are red and puffy from crying, and your face is flushed you look like a mess when you came out Steve had kept fresh clothes ready for you, seeing all this you realize you need to look after yourself you need to move on for you for your friends for Steve. Lost in your thoughts Steve knocked on your door holding the pizza box "Hey" "Hey come in" he smile and sat at the edge of the bed, you curled up next to him and he draped his arm around you. "I’m sorry" he whispers after a few minutes you look up at him and shake your head "It’s not your fault Steve there’s nothing you could’ve done" "Pizza?" "Yes please..." after eating in silence Steve was about to leave when you grabbed his wrist "Please stay with me tonight I don't want to wake up alone" he smiled after throwing the empty box away, Steve came under the covers patting the space next to him, you immediately went to him and rested your head on his chest and he started to play with your hair.

"Talk" "Tell me about your trip, I'm sorry I didn't ask sooner" "Don't be it's not your fault, I had my dance" you looked up at him with a smile and he return the favor by kissing your forehead. "I'm so happy for you Steve but what happened I thought you left" "Well someone told me to have my dance and know where I belong so...." "Steve I'm glad you are back, not because of whatever that has happen, but I missed you terribly we all missed you, secretly I kept on praying for you to come back even though it was selfish of me but I can't live without you" as soon as those words were out of your mouth you bit your tongue and Steve laughed softly inside his mind he was genuinely happy to be back to you though he had return thinking about returning to his best friend but now he had a mission to win your heart and drown you in happiness and love.

Recovering from the heartbreak Bucky caused was difficult but Steve stood by your side like a rock honestly he was the glue to your foundation. Almost after three weeks you were looking normal. You went for morning runs with Steve and practiced your skills in his basement. You both mostly slept together, in the beginning after you shifted you had a nightmare that Sharon separated you guys poor Steve consoled you the entire night he promised that he won't leave you ever again no one can seperate you from him, neither of you ready to sleep.

It had been three months now you mostly spent time with Steve only Nat, Wanda and Sam would come to meet you. Slowly you were getting over the pain Bucky caused you started to smile again freely and Steve made sure to make you laugh. Talking about Bucky he did ask Sharon about what Steve said to him that day but she laughed it off saying Steve is jealous cause his ex and best friend are together now. No one paid much heave to them. You dreaded the day when you will have to face Tony hiding the truth via phone calls was easy but lying to his face was tougher than dealing with hydra. Later Steve was called on a two week mission he wanted to avoid it but you encouraged him to go in that time you missed him terribly. "Y/n" You smile and ran into Steve’s arms "I missed you Steve!" You pull away and looked at him. "The mission went smoothly and I didn’t get hurt none of us did." You smile, relief flooding through you. "So, how’ve you been?" "I went to morning runs, meditated, practice my skills, ate and slept just like you told me" He smiles and pulls you into another huge hug, lifting you off the ground "That’s amazing!" "I never would’ve been able to have do it without you thank you so much." Steve just smiled kissing your forehead. "Go freshen up dinner is almost ready" "Yes maam" he mock solutes you and leaves.

In the meantime you collect his dirty clothes to clean and something drops on the floor it turns out to be his compass you pick it up smiling the love of his life lives inside the compass you smile to yourself "Lucky woman" you open the compass to see Peggy's photo but when you see your photo you keep staring at it like it will change any second you even pinched yourself can it be real? your once upon a time crush loves you? So many questions were forming in your brain but for the time being you decided to ignore it you had been fooled once but this time you were going to be more careful but that does not mean your heart didn't do a little dance a hope towards something good. Thankfully dinner was not awkward you both talked in between about literally anything but your stomach did do summersaults whenever you get slight touches by Steve.

Two weeks since you saw your photo you were so thinking about it now staring at Steve would make you feel heat in your body Steve would often tease you about your blushing and you would awkwardly laugh and he found that cute and good lord have mercy on shirtless days you blamed the stupid night you found his compass for what you are feeling now, you should still be a little sad about Bucky's betrayal right? Right!? Wrong! Now spending time with Steve felt different even if he loved you he didn't do anything to show that, he was still like the best friend he was supposed to be you didn't even realize when you stopped thinking about Bucky has it been days, maybe weeks or months who knows?

So on a very boring night when you both had nothing to do Steve played some music "Can I have this dance with you mam?" he bow down offering you his hand you laughed at his antics clearing your throat "well yes kind sir" you took his hand and he begin to swing you both humming to the lyrics and with one last swing you crashed into his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer to him until the two of you are pressed tightly against each other "Steve" you whisper, your breath fanning out across his face. He licks his lips "Y/n" his breath hits your lips and you whimper softly. Just as he leans down, his phone rings you pull away from him and look down as he answers his phone. "Tony, hi… yes of course yeah I'll let her know...yup...bye". Steve gives you a sheepish smile rubbing his neck "so Tony is coming over tomorrow" you widen your eyes scare as hell "what? Why didn't you stop him?" "Y/n relax you have to face him someday and I'll be with you all the time Tony won't know anything"

Next day when the door bell rang you hope it to be anyone but Tony but one can only hope Tony's back was facing the door so when Steve called him in Tony looked over his shoulder with a glare only to smile when he sees you. Typical Tony you shook your head. "Y/n you look amazing! It’s been way too long, I thought you went into hibernation " you giggle and hug the billionaire tightly. "It’s good to see you too believe it or not Tony I did miss you." He laughs "of course you did! I’m handsome" "oh shut up" Steve complains. Tony rolls his eyes entering like he owns the place. "How have you been?" "So far so good all thanks to Steve" you tell him proudly. "So what even though you told me on the phone what happened it is still hard to believe you two mutually broke up?" "Hey Tony you want something to eat?" Tony looks at Steve giving a look like 'what?' Steve looks at you only for you too glare at him silently asking him 'what are you trying to do?' "Anyway I believe I asked you something" "yeah well we slowly started to drift away there was no point in continuing so we broke up" the only mistake you did in the entire conversation was avoiding Tony's face which you only did when you either lied or hide something" and that's the exact thing Steve did so after some other random conversation were you both looked at him without hesitation he immediately knew you both were hiding something and his nosy instincts started to kick in.

The thing is you can hide even lie a lot to FBI, CIA even Fury for god sake, but hiding things from a nosy person, that to Tony? yeah good luck with that. So as soon as Tony left, he knew something was off so he did what he does best become nosy.

"Friday call Romanoff" "Yes boss" "yes Tony?" "Meet me in my office " "okay Ton" "Friday" "Yes boss?" "I want to watch all the footage since Sharon came with Bucky and Sam to Y/n leaving the tower" "All collected boss" "Thank you Friday."

----------------------------------------------------- Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 ----------------------------------------------------- TAGLIST- @sapphirebarnes ----------------------------------------------------- (Thank you guys for loving my work it means a lot to me as always feedback is appreciated lots of love to you all take care and a little sneak peek- now that we are over the break up period it's time for us to fall in love and Tony to show who the boss is, time for some action and romance 😉❤️) -----------------------------------------------------

#sebastian stan characters #chris evans characters #bucky barnes angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #steve rogers x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader

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conkers-thecosy · 7 months

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Bagginshield-tober / Day 6 / Recovery

Hey folks! Here's my offering for day six of the "Bagginshield-tober" prompt list, by the lovely @smolestboop 💛

You can also find these little snippets compiled into one fic on AO3 - day seven is posted there too, but it's only a short one!

This one is a liiiiittle angsty, so be warned, but as always there's an element of hurt/comfort and a fluffy end, which hopefully balances it out.

Hope you enjoy!

~*~*~

It had been three weeks since Thorin and Bilbo had begun to share one another’s beds.

It was perfectly innocent, of course, and Bilbo had gone out of his way to explain that in hobbit culture it was more than acceptable to share a bunk with friends or family for comfort. Co-sleeping, he called it. In truth, it wasn’t the first time they had done so, as on the road to and from Erebor, they had often slept side by side for warmth and safety. Not just the two of them, either - all of the company had piled in wherever there was a space.

Now in Bag End, they never began the night in bed together. They would say goodnight as they always had, then head to their respective bedrooms. It was September now, and much cooler, so they were able to shut their doors once again. Still, since that first night when Thorin had been incapable of ignoring Bilbo calling his name in such distress, they had both come to an unspoken agreement; if one had a nightmare, then the other would knock on their door and quietly ask if they wanted company.

It seemed to settle them both, and often once they were in the same bed, feeling the weight and warmth of the other beside them, they would both settle into a much more peaceful slumber than if they were apart.

Tonight it was Thorin who had cried out, and Bilbo who had come to him, quietly asking if he had need of him. Thorin had accepted the comfort, wishing he was confident enough to ask the Hobbit to start the night with them sharing a bed, and spare them both the distress. He would only say it was platonic, and of course it would be, but in his heart he wished fervently that it might turn into more, that it might in turn answer another question that he longed to ask, but dare not.

He was shocked and shaken to wake again the same night from another nightmare, despite Bilbo already being beside him. Awakening with a muffled cry, his body taut and chest constricted, he was confused for a moment to find a small hand pressed gently over his heart.

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” Bilbo shushed him softly. “Just a nightmare, Thorin. It’s not real.”

Thorin looked up with wide eyes as Bilbo leant over him, sleep-tousled and concerned, and felt immediately ashamed. He didn’t know why, couldn’t hardly think straight, but it felt like some kind of failure to still be woken so, even with Bilbo as close as he was. Like he was too broken, too used up to ever recover, that he would always be haunted by the horror of his own actions.

“Try to breathe,” Bilbo pressed, his voice quiet, as though afraid they might wake others despite being the only ones in the smial. “It’s okay.”

“I’m fine,” he grit out, turning on the mattress so his back was to Bilbo.

There was a long pause, and Thorin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe normally again through sheer willpower and shame alone. Then Bilbo spoke carefully.

“Would you like for me to leave?”

Thorin’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. Had he frightened Bilbo? Did he want to leave? But no, surely if that were the case, the Hobbit would simply have gone without a word. He had been trying to offer comfort, and Thorin had snapped at him for it, but only because there was something so unsettling to be looking that the version of Bilbo that tormented his dreams, and waking to be faced with the same visage, only soft with concern for one who did not deserve it.

Still, Thorin knew he was greedy by nature. Selfish. Hateful. He could not help but reach for the things he wanted, even when it was wrong to do so.

“No.”

Another silence followed, shorter this time, before Bilbo sighed quite quietly. “I will not be offended if you wish to be alone, Thorin.”

“No, please,” Thorin shook his head against the pillow, hating how pathetic and weak he sounded. “Please stay.”

Bilbo immediately settled himself back on the bed, and the dwarf was surprised when, instead of simply laying side by side as they always had, not touching and being very careful of one another’s space, an arm was draped carefully over his waist. His heart jumped again, only for a different reason, and he felt the Hobbit press his soft, warm body flush against his broad back.

“I’ll stay as long as you like,” Bilbo promised, his breath puffing against Thorin's shoulder and disturbing his hair very gently. It was hard to breathe again.

Thorin didn’t know how long they lay like that, Bilbo holding him as a lover might, his small hand finding its way back over his heart, the warmth of it seeping through his sleeping tunic and into his skin, into his very bones. His breathing became even again, and he knew that Bilbo was still awake, if only from the way he was still holding him almost protectively. There was a time not too long ago where he would have scoffed at such a notion, but now… now he felt safer than he had in a long time.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” Thorin murmured into the night.

“Don’t apologise,” Bilbo replied, his words like a caress against Thorin’s skin. “You’re still healing, and it takes time.”

Thorin closed his eyes and sighed. “I may never heal fully.”

He felt Bilbo offer some approximation of a shrug from where he was pressed up against his back.

“Maybe, but it will get easier, I’m sure of it,” the Hobbit said. “And I will be here to help, no matter how long it takes. I will be here for the duration, I promise.”

There was such conviction, such earnest faith in his words, that Thorin had no choice but to believe him. He did not remember falling asleep after that, but he must have done almost immediately, the lingering promise of forever giving his fraught mind the peace he so craved, and a fresh hope for eventual recovery.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #conkers-theficwriter #bagginshieldtober #bagginshield-tober #light angst #hurt/comfort #fluff #co-sleeping #mild trauma mention #reshirement #stealing moments moments away

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emptymasks · 7 months

Text

why does my tav look suspiciously like d from vampire hunter d? um... well i um well i. you see. it's called being incredibly picky and sensitive about character creation and not being able to make a tav in game that is a comfortable representation of yourself, and d's out there being peak gender goals and already looking like me so you just use him as your own self-insert and whoops now you ship them haha. i've commandeered d for my own nefarious purposes and no one can stop me.

also yes i chose to make d a little shorter than astarion. i can't actually find a canonical height for him in the books, he's just described as looking like a young man, so for my own headcannon (and because i'm not very tall) he's like 5'8.

i have thoughts about them under the cut

no but d's closed off emotionally but does experience emotions. and he's used to no one being accepting of half-vampires. astarion mistakes him for an elf at first, only realising he's not when he tries to bite him. getting worried and then calming down once he learns d isn't a full vampire. astarion continuing to flirt with him catches him off guard, he's not unused to people finding him beautiful but he isn't used to people being this interested, especially after learning he's a dhapmir. the feeling of not being accepted amongst vampires nor humans/elves is something they share. being on board with killing cazador, perhaps was already on a mission to kill him anyway. d is incredibly touch-starved. sometimes he doesn't want to be touched, needs quiet time, tries to show astarion it's okay to not want to be touched.

he turns down astarions suggestions of bedding him for the longest time as it is not something he indulges in… but perhaps… just this once… the few times people have tried to seduce him they've been vampires, so this, this is different, he feels as though he can trust astarion with this, with himself, and if the worst comes he knows he's stronger than astarion and can fend him off. but the more time passes, the more of himself he lets astarion see, the more they let each other see of themselves, d starts to share slivers of his past, he wants astarion to know he understands, and it… it's nice to have someone who doesn't judge him, not for what he is, but also not for what he's done. and the falling happens. and he's terrified. but so is astarion. and astarion is right that this… this feels nice. and he doesn't want to be selfish and let himself be with someone, have it interfere with his drive but he wants. and he fears that astarion will fear him, he has to confess what happens if he were to feed on a person, he urges that take hold of him, the vampire that rages inside of him. but astarion thinks, and says d can't let this full vampire that lurks control him.

and when they find cazador he convinces astarion not to ascend, that someone has to break the hold these vampires have, someone has to end the cycle of abuse and power. he could have killed cazador himself, but this is astarion's moment, and he's almost testing him, seeing if astarion is different from every vampire he's met. different from almost every vampire he's met. he thinks of meier, of his ability to find and feel love. and astarion resists, and he cries, and he kills cazador. and if he's willing, when he's more recovered, once the worms are out of their minds, they'll both become braver, both become able to voice things that they feel. and perhaps astarion will say he's proven himself a worthy ally, has he not? perhaps, since it's hard for d to give up hunting, well… perhaps they could hunt together.

#i need to practise kissing more often and just characters interacting and touching more often i wanna get better at it #also left hand creeps me out imagine he's not here. i'd much rather he be like a sort of familiar to d.#like i had the idea of him possessing a wolf rather than d's left hand and so d's just got this demon wolf who travels around with him #i think lefty would prefer getting his own body than being stuck to d all the time anyway. yes i just called him lefty.#astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #fanart #myart #mine #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #vampire hunter d

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ridorukunmajitennshi · 9 months

Note

13 w ace please? :o

pairing: ace trappola x gn!reader cw: suggestive a/n: i know ace shares a dorm with other first-years but i only remembered that fact half-way through, so we're gonna be delulu, okay? i hope you enjoy!

send me a number + character!

Hot, dewy tears clung to your lashes as you knocked on Ace’s door past curfew—and, even if Riddle would surely have his head for this, he let you inside without questioning it. He was your best friend, and he wasn’t going to refuse you when you showed up in a pitiful state. He couldn’t.

“Shh, hey,” Ace’s voice is shockingly mollifying for someone with an intrinsically cheeky attitude as he tugs you deeper into his dorm room, “what happened?”

“⋯ I got rejected,” was all you managed to murmur out whilst suppressing the urge to start crying.

Ace felt that oh so familiar twinge in his chest, the one that makes it as if his heart is being gouged out with a dull blade and the remains are discarded in a bloody, grotesque on the floor. “Ah⋯ from that guy you were talking about a week or two ago?” Ace acted as if he assuredly remembered, but he usually zoned-out whenever you blathered about any crushes you had.

Why would he want to listen to you babble on about someone else; when he was right in front of you?

“He said I wasn’t cute enough.”

“Okay, that’s just bullshit,” Ace spat out acerbically, not heeding his caustic tone—if anything, he shamelessly wished this guy could hear his voice and melt into the ground in a deplorable heap. “You’re the cutest in the whole school! Everyone knows that.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at how heated Ace appeared to be getting over this, and from his patent exaggeration. “I am not,” you whispered, lips curving into a small smile, “but⋯ thank you, Ace.”

In Ace’s eyes, you truly were the cutest little thing⋯ and he desperately yearned for your color to be dyed in his, a sickening crimson that needed you as he needed oxygen.

“C’mere,” with a small pout as he uttered that, Ace opened up his arms to you and encircled your frame within his embrace; pressing a feathery kiss to the top of your head, “you are the cutest, though. At least to me.”

“You really think so?”

Reflected in your glossy eyes was a scintilla of dubiety, and Ace would perceive that—so, with a spuriously teasing smirk, he mocked, “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Hehe, well, you do lie sometimes, you know⋯”

“I’d never lie about something like this,” Ace reassured you with an abrupt pensiveness, “not to you.”

Left breathless by Ace’s confidence, how soft yet affectionate he sounded, you clung onto him tauter and squeezed as a silent affirmation of your appreciation.

“Let’s head to bed, yeah? Knowing you, you wouldn’t wanna be alone after what happened,” Ace suggested, albeit there were tinctures of selfishness underneath his act of being your one and only best friend.

Why wouldn’t he want you to sleep over? To keep you to himself as you recover from your heartache?

Rummaging through his wardrobe and fishing out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that’ll be way too big on you, Ace handed you your makeshift pyjamas. He rolled on his heel and turned the other way so you could change, but whenever he thought you weren’t looking, he peeked over his shoulder for just a crumb of what he’s been hungry for.

Ace and you head to his bed, where you flop down onto it—and then Ace does as well, although he practically descends atop of you and shoves his weights on you as he does.

“Oof! You’re heavy!”

“Nah, you’re just too small,” Ace quipped back.

“I-I’m still growing⋯!”

“Sureeeee you are, cutie⋯” Rolling his eyes playfully, Ace nudged you as he shortened the propinquity between you further. He planted a kiss on your neck, allowing his lips to linger over your hot pulse. “Why don’t you close your eyes? Get yourself some rest with me.”

“Mhm, yeah, good idea⋯”

Too credulous and trusting for your own good, Ace watched with a simper as you fluttered your eyes shut as he continued to press small kisses along your sensitive neck, dragging the flesh of his moist lips against the flushing skin as he took advantage of you.

“Sleep if you need to,” he added.

Ace wasn’t sure if you were asleep or not, but he rolled overtop of you, pinning his hands beside your head as he stared down at you. Prepossessing and alluring, you looked like a damn angel with your countenance eased.

Tracing a hand under your shirt as if he’s holding your hip, Ace drew his lips down to your chest where he placed another kiss right above where your heart rests. Before then bringing his mouth back up to press harder, firmer kisses on your neck.

Hearing as you made a soft noise in your sleep, Ace couldn’t fathom what the other boys in school didn’t see in you; you were adorable. The cutest in the world. It was unbearable.

He was losing control⋯ the enticement of your skin heating up beneath his mouth was clouding his mind, corrupting his sense of command. And so, Ace kissed you deeply on the lips; keeping you restrained against the bed so you couldn’t move or escape.

Your eyes flung open in discombobulation, and Ace kept his lips attached to yours in order to occlude you from speaking properly.

“Shh⋯ just lay back,” Ace whispered, hand roaming beneath your shirt and leaving searing imprints along your belly, “I’ll make you feel good, best you’d ever had.”

Kissing you once more, sensual and deep, Ace felt your lips part and he didn't squander a second before rolling his tongue into your mouth—even if that wasn’t your intention. Groaning against your lips, Ace clasped your waist and dug his hand into you.

Feebly struggling, you couldn’t stop Ace from affixing his lips onto your neck once more; mewling as he begins to suckle on your skin, teeth roughly, he was inexperienced, sinking down. “Wh-Why do⋯ you want to?”

“Because⋯ I want you. All of you,” Ace heaved, leaving a bright hickey on the side of your neck, “and it’s about time you see that.”

#ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #suggestive #ficlets #gn reader

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cecilysass · 30 days

Text

Shine On (5/16)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 5: Lady of Sorrows

Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital Arlington, Virginia February 22, 2015

She’s preparing for a conference call that starts in twenty minutes when she hears the buzz of her phone. When she sees his name, she presses her eyes shut and ignores it.

She knows he’ll call back, and of course he does.

What do you want, Mulder? she texts him in frustration.

He responds right away, which surprises her. He has fewer reasons to use his phone than she does, so he is sometimes still a little baffled by texts. Which is one reason she sends them when she wants to put him off.

We need to talk. It’s important.

She shakes her head with huffy disbelief. Puts down her phone. Takes a drink of her coffee. Picks up her phone again.

I don’t think that’s a very good idea.

His response once again comes fast.

It’s important.

There’s still so much for her to do before this conference call. She wanted to go through yesterday’s results again and make more annotations. She wanted to crosscheck with the Amsterdam study. She doesn’t have time for this.

Fine. I’ll call you this afternoon.

There. Done. She should get back to work now, but instead she stares at the phone, waiting for his response.

Needs to be in person. Can you come to the house?

He has so much nerve. As much arrogance as ever, expecting her to be at his beck and call. She can feel her jaw clenching.

I’m busy, Mulder. I’m at work.

Sorry, it’s Sunday, didn’t realize.

Why do we need to talk?

The three dots appear, then disappear. He seems to be grappling with an answer.

After a moment, she adds: If this is about apologizing - not necessary.

The three dots pop up again on her screen.

Not an apology. Not about the other day. Something else. Important.

He adds a second message: Can I come to you? This afternoon?

She lets out a long, extended exhale, putting her head in her hands. After the conference call, she had been hoping to go home and enjoy a relaxing Sunday afternoon. Maybe go to yoga. Maybe take a bath. Seeing Mulder would almost certainly mean more emotional upheaval. The very opposite of the relaxation she needs.

But she’s always had such a hard time saying no to him.

Meet me at 3 at the cafe across from the hospital.

There’s a pause before he responds.

Okay. At 3.

Scully shoves the phone out of her sight, turning her attention back to her laptop. There’s still enough time to get ready. Her mind reviews her to-do list. Annotations, crosscheck with Amsterdam study, and then a quick overview of all of her notes.

But now her mind is distracted, wondering what Mulder wants.

Staring at the spreadsheet in front of her, full of all of the data she should be going through, she thinks a dangerous thought—one that will almost certainly come back to betray her.

Maybe he wants to give her a birthday present. Maybe he wants to do something nice for her birthday.

It’s so stupid of her. So adolescent. So ridiculous to even consider. It will only disappoint her later. Why would he do that? They’re not together anymore. And she knows he’s still struggling with their break-up, and she knows she should help give him space, so that he can recover and get better, get healthy. Even the idea is selfish.

She just can’t help but to imagine that kind of pleasant surprise. Like the old days. Maybe he has a present. A book, chosen just for her. A little bracelet, something exactly her tastes. A card he’s written tenderly for her.

The fantasy is irresistible because no one on earth has ever known her mind, known her heart, known her body like Mulder has. Being known to your core like that is a heady feeling, utterly addictive. She will never, ever stop wanting to experience it again.

She doubts she will. She can’t imagine any of the smarmy visiting surgeons who ask her out ever really knowing her like that.

Another idea pops into her mind, an even more foolish idea that reaches even further into her past.

Maybe he’s coming to her with a good old-fashioned slide show. With some bizarre monster to hunt, a spooky lead to track down, a haunted mystery to solve. Maybe he’s going to try to convince her to come with him on some wild goose chase.

That idea shouldn’t thrill her, it really shouldn’t, but it does. She longs for it in places she typically represses.

To be in some rental car with him, side by side, headed out to face grim small towns and sticky-table top diners and buzzing-sign motels. Her and him against the world. Partners against the darkness, ever and always.

She laughs softly, bitterly at herself. Jesus, she knows so much better than this.

These Mulders she’s longing for—the Mulder who remembers her birthday and painstakingly selects the perfect gift, the Mulder who gets caught up in the excitement of a case and coaxes his partner to be at his side—those versions of Mulder don’t exist any more.

Those versions of Mulder haven’t existed for a while, and that’s exactly why she had to leave.

She looks away from her laptop, massaging her forehead with a single fingertip, and takes another big drink of her coffee. Just take a break for five minutes, she tells herself. Get yourself together.

Her eyes drift back to her phone. She brushes past Mulder’s last message, and goes to scroll through the day’s headlines for the distraction.

Politics, entertainment, local news: she swipes through quickly. The phone offers so much convenience, but it brings something frenetic into her life, too. She sometimes misses the simple, tangible delight of having her hands on a paper Washington Post. Maybe she’ll pick one up today to read in the bathtub, if seeing Mulder doesn’t throw her too much for a loop.

There’s a national news story that catches her attention because of the words “Eighth grader” in the headline. This year, Scully’s attention is grabbed by anything mentioning eighth graders. Last year, it was seventh graders. Next year, it will be ninth graders, which makes her heart ache. High school. So old. He’s very possibly taller than her now.

This particular headline is rather upsetting: “Wyoming Eighth Grader Who Allegedly Shot Parents Still At Large.” Scully clicks on it and looks at the accompanying picture, a smiling school photo of a sweet-faced brown-haired boy who doesn’t look at all like a killer, which she knows from experience means exactly nothing. She decides not to read the story. Stories about killer eighth grade boys will upset her, and there’s no cause to upset herself.

The detour into the news is enough of a reset, though, for her to stop thinking about Mulder.

She turns back to the spreadsheet, her focus back. Only twelve minutes left now until her call. Scully lets herself shut the doors to everything but work.

***

Farrs Corner, Virginia February 22, 2015

“You ready?” Mulder says. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, peering out the open passenger door with a too-bright smile.

Jackson climbs reluctantly in, reaching for his seatbelt. “I look stupid.”

“Not true.” Mulder says encouragingly. “You look like a kid who is being smart about not being recognized.”

News stories with Jackson’s photo have been making the rounds on the cable news stations, so Mulder has decided they can’t take risks. It seems like a long shot that someone would identify him on the roads of rural Virginia, but Jackson supposes it’s better safe than sorry.

So he’s wearing a worn old Yankees cap and a pair of dated oversized sunglasses. In Jackson’s opinion, the sunglasses make him more obvious, because no one under forty would ever wear sunglasses like that if they were not trying to disguise their identity.

The clothes he’d been wearing before were getting a little overripe, so Mulder has also made him borrow a pair of jeans and a black sweater. Like the sunglasses, they are really old—“vintage,” jokes Mulder—-and apparently from when he was a smaller size. But they’re still way too big for Jackson, who is skinnier and shorter. They hang off of him, even with the cuffs of the jeans rolled up and the sleeves of the sweater pushed back.

He looks like a kid playing dress up. Mulder is trying not to look at him. I hope he didn’t hear me think that. Jackson sighs a long, loud drawn-out sigh to let the man know he did.

They’ve now spent a full day together, him and Mulder, waiting for the DNA results to come back. It’s gone okay. Strange, but okay.

Yesterday morning, Mulder made him swab his mouth and drove the sample to drop off with some friend in the FBI. While Mulder was gone, Jackson snooped around, picking up every framed picture, opening drawers and cupboards. He didn’t find anything too interesting, except for a lot of evidence that Mulder didn’t clean up much.

By the time Mulder had returned, Jackson had decided to try to put all those piles of books back on his shelves, attempting to organize them by section. Mulder watched him in fascination for a moment and then joined in. It took them three hours to finish that project, mostly because Mulder kept going on tangents to tell him things about different books.

This book, which describes a fascinating incident with a wendigo, helped me solve a case once… I bought this paperback from a professional shaman in Brooklyn in 1989… This is a theoretical physics text about the practicalities of space travel Scully bought me as a joke.

Jackson didn’t hate it. Mulder was funny, mostly. And smart. He was definitely really smart. But he was intense, too, so eager to show Jackson things, so eager to impress him. Jackson’s shine wearied after a while.

That evening, they tried to watch TV, but turned it off when they saw a snippet of a news story with Jackson’s face. After that, they played chess. Mulder pointed out that telepaths had an unfair advantage in chess, but Jackson promised not to use it, and he really didn’t. Mulder won.

This morning, Mulder got the call about the DNA test, and while he didn’t say it in so many words, Jackson didn’t even need his shine to read the result from the man’s glowing face: it’s a match. You’re the daddy, like the talk shows say. Mulder obviously considers this great news.

Which means, of course, that it’s time to meet the other half of Jackson’s genetic equation.

“Okay,” Jackson mutters, clicking his seatbelt in place. “You said we’re going to a Starbucks or something?”

Mulder starts the engine. “We’re supposed to meet her at a cafe,” he says, maneuvering the car up the drive. “I’m not sure I like having you in public right now though, even master of disguise that you are. So we’ll convince her to talk elsewhere.”

“Hmm,” nods Jackson, the hat slipping over his face a little. He pushes it back. He feels Mulder stealing looks at him, and he wonders if Mulder has any idea how anxious he feels about meeting Scully. He makes a point of looking out the window, trying to make things seem more casual. “You know I could appear as someone else, right? If you want me to.”

“That might be useful,” Mulder says. “But I want Scully to see you as you are. Don’t you?”

Jackson doesn’t answer, keeping his gaze out the window. “On our way, are we going to drive by anywhere interesting? Like the White House or the Washington Monument?”

“Unfortunately, today we’re not leaving Virginia,” Mulder says. “But I promise, not too long from now I’ll take you to D.C. and show you the sights.”

Jackson lowers his stupid sunglasses and gives him a dubious look.

“What? I will.” Mulder protests. “Wait, hold on.” Mulder puts the car in park and hops out to open the gate. Jackson’s eyes follow him closely over the top of the sunglasses as he unlatches the gate and then slides back in.

“A lot of security,” comments Jackson. It seems like a pain in the ass to open and close the gate every time you leave. He wonders how often Mulder does leave. “This is because of those people you and Scully worked with?”

“More or less, yeah,” agrees Mulder, steering the car through the gate, then putting it in park again with a little jerk. He scrambles to hop out again, jogging back to close and latch the gate up.

At least, Jackson thinks, he didn’t grow up having to worry about all of this. He can’t imagine doing this all the time. Although, he thinks with a sudden sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, maybe he should have. Maybe if he and his parents had done all this, they would still be alive.

Mulder slides back in the car again. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Jackson manages.

Mulder nods without expression and drives the car onto the road. “Want to turn on some music?”

“That’s okay.”

“What kind of music do you like?”

Jackson smirks. “Do you really think you’ll have heard of it?”

“That depends,” Mulder says. “If you say you like Prince, or the Stones, or the Clash, then sure.”

“I like those,” Jackson says coolly. “I’m really into Bring Me the Horizon and Fall Out Boy?”

“Nope.”

Jackson gives him a withering “I told you so” look. He turns to face the front windshield, thinking about his mom singing along to When Doves Cry as she unloaded the dishwasher.

“What kind of music does Scully like?” he wonders.

“Oh,” Mulder sounds surprised. “Well, when she was young, she went through a rebellious phase. She liked punk, New Wave. All the music that would annoy her parents.”

“She didn’t get along with her parents?”

“No,” Mulder says. “She did, actually. She still does — her mom is still around. It was just teenage identity stuff. You know how it goes.”

Jackson nods seriously, making note of the existence of a living biological grandparent.

“Now, I think she still likes all that eighties music from when she was young,” Mulder says. “And sixties and seventies hits, too. She listens to that whenever she’s working out or doing something high energy. But she also likes classical music. She listens to a lot of classical music.”

“Is she, like, good at music? Does she sing or play an instrument?” Jackson and Louis had been talking about starting a band, and Jackson had been trying to learn guitar.

“No,” Mulder says. “Not really.” He smiles apologetically. “She’s really, really good at all kinds of other shit though, Jackson. Like being a scientist and a doctor and an F.B.I. agent.”

“She’s pretty, too,” comments Jackson.

“You can read my thoughts, so I assume you know how I feel about that,” Mulder says dryly. “I’m trying not to feel weird about it.”

“I don’t read every thought,” Jackson replies defensively. “I’ve been doing this my whole life, so I have a good idea when I am about to see something permanently damaging.”

Mulder laughs, but looks at him curiously. “What about at school, though? Teachers? Other kids? Girls—or guys—you might have a crush on? It must be tempting, huh?”

Jackson tries to think about how to explain it. “It’s not as tempting as you would think. It’s usually more trouble than it’s worth. You find out things you wish you didn’t. You see people think things about you that make you feel embarrassed or upset. You know information that’s hard to pretend you don’t know, and sometimes you mess up. I mostly don’t want to use my shine, if I can avoid it.”

“Your shine?”

“Oh yeah.” Jackson reddens. He’s only used the word with one other person before. “That’s what I call it. I call it ‘using my shine.’ I guess I mean like a light?”

“Okay,” Mulder says, nodding. “Interesting. Like the psychic boy in Stephen King? The Shining?”

Jackson frowns. “I haven’t seen it. Is there a shine in that?”

He doesn’t even know what I’m talking about. Jackson's mind tunes into Mulder’s thoughts like a radio. Don’t tell him. Too disturbing.

Instead, Mulder throws him a playful look. “Or like ‘Shine on, you crazy diamond.’ That’s an old Pink Floyd song.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of that,” Jackson says with a little tolerant nod. “But … yeah. It can make me feel weird to use it for no good reason. I mean, I’m not saying I have never tried to see answers inside a teacher’s head or anything like that. But mostly I just want to feel normal talking to other people. You know?”

“You do seem to be able to control your shine considerably better than other people I’ve known with this kind of ability,” Mulder comments. “It’s the kind of thing I would have been really interested in, back when I worked on the X-files.”

“You’ve known other people with this ability?”

“Oh yeah,” Mulder says. “Several people. I even… well, I don’t want to get into it all now. But I can talk to you about this in detail whenever you want to.”

Jackson is quiet. “I wish when I was little I knew that there were other people with these abilities. It would have been easier. Made me feel better.”

“I’m sure,” Mulder says quietly. “I wish I could have told you.”

There is a heavy pause.

“I go to therapy for anxiety and depression,” Jackson tells him.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says. “What about you?”

“No,” Mulder says. He gives him a strange look. “But maybe I should?”

“Yeah,” Jackson agrees, thinking of several details he’s observed. “Maybe you should.”

“You’re in a position to see, I guess,” Mulder muses. He's silent for a beat.

“I read an article about how sometimes a baby, when they’re still in their mom’s womb, can sort of soak up her stress and trauma and then grow up to have problems with anxiety,” Jackson says. “Do you think something like that might have happened to me?”

“You read an article like that?” Mulder asks, scowling. “Why?”

“That’s the kind of article kids with closed adoptions read,” Jackson says, lowering the sunglasses again, an edge of dark humor. “If you're a big nerd like me, anyway. You sort of wonder about everything.”

Mulder raises his eyebrows. Then he seems to consider Jackson’s question.

“I mean, it’s possible,” Mulder says heavily. “It’s possible something like that happened to you when you were in utero. It’s also possible you have anxiety and depression because, each year since 2000, the number of children and teens diagnosed with anxiety and depression has gone up, and you’re just one of those kids.”

Jackson makes an impressed face. “You just happened to know that?”

“Scully read an article about it,” Mulder says. “The kind of article birth mothers with closed adoptions of kids born after 2000 read. If they’re big nerds like Scully, anyway.” He pauses. “It’s also possible you have anxiety and depression for any other number of reasons that have nothing to do with any of that. Like having these abilities you have to hide and deal with, for one.”

“Yeah,” admits Jackson.

“Hey, do me a favor, and please don’t mention reading your ‘anxiety forming in utero’ article to Scully. Okay? Never.”

Jackson’s brow furrows. Not having met Scully, it’s an easy promise to make. “Yeah, okay.” He looks over at Mulder. “Is that something that would bother her?”

Mulder nods emphatically. “Let me put it like this. You know how some families like to have Scrabble competitions? Or fantasy football? In this family we like to compete in feeling guilty for how we’ve hurt people we love.”

“Oh good,” Jackson deadpans. “I’ve been training for that.”

Mulder chuckles bitterly. “You really don’t understand your competition.”

Jackson hadn't even been aware his shine was active, but suddenly he's overcome: a painful onslaught of incoming information. There’s a rapid-fire series of images from Mulder’s mind, so fast Jackson feels his head thump back dramatically against the headrest, closing his eyes. He gasps loud enough that Mulder looks over.

“Whoa, whoa. You okay there?”

“Yeah,” Jackson says breathily, opening his eyes. “I just…” He feels like he got kicked.

“Feeling dizzy?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Did you drink water today?”

“It wasn’t dehydration," Jackson murmurs.

Mulder’s face changes. Jackson sees that he has realized.

“Oh,” he says. "It was me, wasn't it?" A pause. “God, Jackson, I’m sorry about that.”

“Not really your fault.”

“You… what did you see?”

Jackson scrunches up his eyes to try to remember each detail. “I didn’t understand much of it,” he says. “There was a little girl, brown braids, bright light?” He looks over at Mulder, and Mulder nods tightly. “All these different people crying because they’ve lost someone, mostly people I don’t know. But Scully lots of times. Scully crying again and again and again.” Mulder presses his lips together tightly. “A baby crying in a crib. Me?”

“Yep,” Mulder says. “You.”

“You feel guilty about me?”

“Yep,” Mulder says. He doesn’t add any more detail.

Jackson takes that information in. He’s tempted to use his shine again, to add some context and see why, exactly, but again it seems a little too much for him to cope with. Better to take all of this information in in tiny bite-sized chunks.

He thinks of something else he’s kind of been wanting to ask instead.

“Am I the only kid you guys ever had? Or did you have others?”

“Just you,” Mulder says, his voice melancholy now. “You weren’t supposed to be possible. She wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant at all. We thought you were a miracle.”

Jackson chews on that thought, staring out the window at the passing late winter Virginia landscape.

***

#xfiles fanfic #the x files #x files fanfic #fox mulder #dana scully #x files #xf fanfic #msr #jackson van de kamp

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lunajay33 · 11 months

Text

Hurt Pt.3💔

Summary: After y/n is shot by Andrea and recovers she has a hard time dealing with Andreas rude remarks and it leads her to believe she’s not good enough for Daryl

•Masterlist•

It’s been a few days and Daryl was successful at keeping Andrea away from me and yesterday we found Sophia in the barn, I know it’s been hard on him and I know Carol has been stressing him out

I was laying in out tent when he came in looking angry

“Hey D are you alright?” I asked as he kicked off his boots

“Damn woman is getting in my nerves” he groaned as he laid down next to me with his head resting in my chest

I instantly ran my fingers through his hair hoping to calm him down

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I asked kissing his head

“She’s selfish, I did everything and she’s just pushing me” I knew I was the only one he opened up to like this

“Just try to ignore her right now, maybe she just doesn’t know what to do with herself right now, I know everything has been stressful lately first with the baby and then the barn, we just have to work with what happened and I’m always here to make sure you’re okay and we will be okay Daryl” I said as I felt him place his hand on my belly

“I wish we were back in the ol’ world, I’d be working at the garage and I’d come home to ya after to have ya greet me at the door smilin, with our lil baby in yer arms”

“Oh baby, I wish for more than anything for that, to have a little house with you, where we could grow together and make it our home, but as long as I have you with me, by my side then I have a home, and this baby will have a home, you’re my home Daryl, always have been” he looks up and me and a faint smile forms

He didn’t say anything, just leaned up and kissed me before laying back down on my chest

I knew he wasn’t the best when it came to expressing his emotions but I knew how he felt most times, and I knew he had his own way of expressing his love for me but still sometimes I wondered if he was too good for me

“Get some sleep my love” I whispered just wanting him to finally rest

~next morning~

I stayed up the whole night thinking about what he said, the life we could have had back in the world we use to live in, as the sun came up I slowly got out of bed careful not to wake Daryl and left the tent

I sat out on the old tree as I always do and just thought of everything that’s happened recently, thinking about how I’m going to protect this baby, I know I’ll do anything for it but I’m just scared, I was forming a little bump now and I just felt conflicted about everything

“What am I gonna do my little peach?” I said talking to the baby as if it could hear me

“Hey what are you doing up so early?” I heard from behind me and it was Rick

“Oh ummm I just couldn’t sleep, too much on my mind” I said looking back at the sunrise

“Somethin ya need to talk about?” He asked as he sat next to me

“Just wanna be strong enough for Daryl and the baby, so much is happening and I feel like I can’t keep him happy, got any advice?” I laughed nervously

“You ain’t got nothing to do, just show him how much you love him, support him, that’s all he needs is you” he smiled

“Maybe you’re right, thanks Rick” I said as I got up to go inside and help start breakfast

I walked into the kitchen to see Maggie already making eggs

“Morning Maggie!” I said as I started cutting the fruit

“Morning!”

After we cooked enough for everyone I took two plates and walked back to the tent to see Daryl just waking up

“Morning my love, here’s some food!” I said as I sat down infront of him

“What’re you doing up so early”

“Didn’t sleep” picking up a strawberry and eating it

“Ya need to get yer rest while her pregnant”

“I know maybe I’ll nap later” I said trying to make eye contact

“Ya sure yer okay?” He looked at me with his cute scrunched up face

“Just tired is all”

“Okay, make sure ya rest today I’m gonna be out with Rick today, make sure ya stay away from Andrea k?” He said kissing the top of my head before leaving with his cross bow

God I loved that man

I thankfully fell asleep after eating and woke up later in the day, Daryl walked in and that startled me awake

“Hey sunshine, sleep well?” He asked crouching infront of me

“Ya feeling better”

“Rick told me what you said this morning”

“Ugh Damn Rick” I groaned

“Ya gotta stop thinkin yer not good enough fer me, yer everything I need no matter what, it’ll always be you and this baby, I love ya” my heart felt warm

“I love you too baby, I think it’s just the pregnancy, the hormones are making my mood go all over the place, but even though in acting crazy, I will always try to be everything I can for you and make you happy”

“Ya make me happy everyday, just by looking at ya I remember I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the world ya land a girl like you” he smiled brushing my hair back

“You’re my everything”

“And yer mine”

#daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #twd x reader

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chawarin-panich · 8 months

Text

Boston giving Sand the Reality Check he needed Part 1 of 2: Boston's Reasoning

This is my thoughts on Boston and Ray's fallout, how and why it came about and how Sand did really need it - which I start talking about in this meta - even though despite Boston's insistence his purpose was never to help Sand. I didn't mean to make this two parts but I started writing the Boston portion of the meta and it turned into what it did kajsfhsdkjfh and I needed to approach Sand and Ray's portion a little more seriously. Without further ado, here goes:

[SCENE START] Imagine you are Boston, the son of a politician, loaded with money but not a lot of visibility or acceptance (I mean if you watch enough Thai dramas you know what politician is code for - corruption, deception, selfishness, entitlement). You are extremely entitled, extremely guarded and extremely unscrupulous and this is what you've been taught life is, what successful, powerful people are like and you are successful and powerful even though things have not quite been going your way recently. Even though earlier on in the day you had your first human emotion:

(give the boy a break he is starting to figure out why people have boyfriends okay? much less that he also kind of wants one??? the emotional TOLL he is under oh boy)

and on top of all that suddenly you have been called for emotional support??? Mew is supposed to call Ray this is very much not your job!!! Can Mew's virgin ass please get over one stupid kiss already???

So Mew has called you and he is THE LAST person you ever want to help with THE LAST problem you've ever wanted to help him with. But you squeeze down the sting of rejection, the inferiority you feel from it - are you perhaps?? not as successful and powerful as you thought??? - and you try to be a normal, human person for A SECOND TIME in ONE day (!!!!) and be a good friend

And you did such a good job!!! You didn't play into his insecurities or try to ruin it for him - even though you wanted to!!! - because at the end of the day Mew is your friend and you know how important his virginity is to him. And now you are ready for some MUCH NEEDED REST from all that decent human being cosplay that you've been doing. And there is a cute guy who likes you and he has an apartment where you can go and fuck him and even though the day is ruined there is still chance for the night to recover but uh oh!!!! What's that???

A Situation You Do Not Understand!!!!! Involving the man who fucked up being manipulated so badly that you had to do 5 seconds of emotional labor earlier that day. Now, you have a choice as an adult to mind your business and walk away into that promised room of fucking that cute guy you were going to fuck. But you are also The Son of a Politician and if there is one thing you know it's that information is power and the instinct to meddle like a 70 year old auntie is slowly overtaking your senses. And so you ask a seemingly innocent question with auntie-adjacent straightforwardness:

And your hot mess of a best friend comes up with the shadiest, juiciest answer while his partner is looking at him like his soul is leaving his body:

On top of that there is weed????? In the form of a delicious looking cookie?????? At this point you are on a missive FROM GOD to find out What The Fuck is Going On.

And what the fuck IS going on?????

An absolute bonkers situation is unfolding, Ray somehow in the mess of his life and his unrequited feelings for Mew is living some romcom with the cute bar singer! Ray!!! The alcoholic!!!!! the one friend you could always count on to make you feel better about the mess that is your life. The one friend you will always be superior to - THAT RAY???

And to make matters worse!!! The cute guy you're with Knows Everything. You have been so busy squeezing out three drops of human emotions because you want to keep the Cute Guy You Kind Of Sort Of Might Like around that you forgot to get around to the 'so do you know any gossip' portion of the casual fucking programming.

Not only are you fucking up your duties to the Politicians' Son Upbringing but the dormant auntie inside you gets another whiff of that fat, juicy gossip as Ray pulls a second 'We Are Just Friends' after you JUST witnessed Sand feed him an edible WITH HIS MOUTH

And you're not trying to stir shit - promise!!! - you just want to see your alcoholic friend stutter and get awkward, put in his place a little bit because Mew might have you beat but there's no way that this flaming hot mess has you beat.

Except!!! UH OH!!!! Ray is an idiot! He is so in wanting of love and finding himself undeserving of it that he has genuinely Not Noticed that the man next to him is In Love With Him. He is not you!! - acutely aware of how his cute guy is in love with him - he is Discovering That Sand Likes Him and somehow you have been duped into helping????

Sand's soul is back in his body and they are somehow Being Worse than before. But your Help A Friend Quota is OUT! You have spent IT ALL on Mew earlier and You. Are. Done. Only one person is allowed to cosplay a decent human being tonight and BY GOD it will not be Ray! The only thing left to do is To Bring Out The Gasoline.

And So? You Do.

[END SCENE]

#ofts meta #only friends the series meta #ofts boston #only friends the series #ofts #sandray #nani's hot takes #god this is such a silly post #i didn't even mean for it to become this #but boston is such a silly little guy #and i love him so much

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 6 months

Text

Dottie and Daniel

A little follow up to Frozen Wastelands as part of my Finding You Series. This was a request from @andiekandie.

Word count: 2k

FINDING YOU MASTERLIST

Steve hovered apprehensively at your front door, hand poised to knock but not quite making contact with the wood. You’d just been allowed home from the hospital after the hypothermia ordeal and he didn’t want to bombard you. At least this was the excuse that kept him from banging down your door. Maybe you were asleep, you deserved your rest.

“Shit!”

He heard a muffled voice, a thump and the sound of something clattering to the floor.

“Ace?” Steve called out, rapping his knuckles against your door. His pulse had quickened with his anxiety about your wellbeing. "Ace! Are you alright?"

There was a moment of silence before he heard padded footsteps before you opened the door slightly.

"St've?" you croaked.

"Everything okay?"

"Pe'chy." Your voice broke mid-word.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

Now that he had your attention, he couldn't quite bring himself to leave, even though he could see how sick you were. The dark circles under your eyes and the red areas around your nose where you'd clearly blown it repeatedly were just icing on the cake indicating how you felt compared to the way your voice sounded.

You shrugged and opened the door further so he could walk past you.

"Is Bucky home?" Another question he already knew the answer to.

"No, he w'nt ou' wit' Sam."

"You don't sound so great."

You shrugged your shoulders before they drooped with weariness. Steve put a comforting hand on your back. He had spotted the kettle and box of teabags on the kitchen counter.

"Why don't you grab a seat. I'll make you a cup of tea?"

You didn't need to be told twice, you hadn't quite recovered from your hospital stay and now you were suffering from a rather nasty viral infection which had taken hold during your weakened state. In a flash, you’d collapsed on the sofa, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders in an effort to stop the shivering. You hadn't quite been able to shake the cold feeling.

Steve fumbled over the kettle as it boiled, impatient for it to start whistling so he could join you. He had so many thoughts and questions about the past but he didn't even know what he wanted to ask you first.

Eventually, even a watched pot boils, and Steve sloppily poured milk and water into the two mugs. As he sat down, you jumped slightly at his proximity.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"S'okay," you whispered, accepting the hot beverage in your frozen hands. "Thanks."

Steve scooched closer to you, and you felt grateful for his warmth and comfort and you couldn't help but rest your head on his shoulder.

The familiarity of your position brought a smile to Steve's face. A fitting symmetry of how he had rested his weary head on your shoulder all those years ago. If you hadn't been feeling so worn out and under the weather, you'd have noticed the way Steve pressed his nose into your head and took in your scent.

He closed his eyes, trying to visualize the memory of you, of Dottie, his first kiss. How had he not recognized you when he first met you? It was so obviously you. Or was he just projecting your image into the memory? Everything about the moment felt familiar. He needed to hear the story in your words.

“Ace?” he called gently. He wondered if you had fallen asleep, you seemed so still and peaceful.

“Ye-?” your voice cracking before you could finish saying the word.

“Is your tea ok?”

“Mmm,” you hummed your approval. “St’ll h’t”

You looked up at the man who you’d once thought was your whole world.

“You didn’t just come here to hang out with me, did you?” you whispered. It was the only way for you to talk without your voice breaking. “You wanted to talk in the hospital.”

Steve looked down at you as you sniffed and rubbed your itchy nose. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of selfishness. How could he have so easily ignored your needs just so he could get his own answers?

“Wha’s up, St’ve?”

“How much do you remember about what happened after you fell in the water?”

You were silent for a bit, contemplating his question. Dragging a net through the back of your mind, trying to dredge up your memories, but all you could conjure was a feeling of winter. “M’stly ‘member feeling c’ld. You and B’cky were there.”

“You don’t remember what we talked about?”

You shook your head. “Sh’uld I be c’ncerned?”

“No, but you were a bit delirious on and off. You kept calling me Daniel.”

Your eyes snapped up to his face so fast that tea slashed over the edge of your up and onto your hand. “Argh!” you cried out, trying to shake the scalding liquid off your hand without spilling more.

Steve grabbed your cup as you winced, wiping the amber liquid off your hand with his sleeve. You sat in silence for a few moments as he held your wrist tightly.

“St’ve? I think you g’t it.”

He released you, looking a little sheepish. Neither of you seemed to know what to say next.

“Ace. Is it true?” Steve finally spoke up.

Was he talking about the past? The past you had shared for one short day? You nodded.

“You were Dottie?”

“Yeah. I was her.” You frowned. “She was me?”

“Ace, I don’t understand. When did this happen? Did you know who I was?”

“No. This happen’d b’fore we’d met, before we’d officially met. I didn’t know you were … you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me your real name?”

“Time travel. Messy bus’ness. You sh’uld know. Didn’t want to make changes to the timeline. Ripples not waves, right?” You did your best to give him a cliff notes version of your recollection of events, as much as your voice would tolerate.

“Why didn’t you tell me when you realized who I was?'

"D'you r'member wh't you said at that p'rty?"

Steve looked at you with sadness in his eyes. "I knew it was real."

"You said 'it wasn't love'."

"Was it?" Steve looked at you with surprise.

"Daniel was re'lly import'nt to me, ev'n though I only 'new him for 'ne day."

"Dottie… you changed my life."

The way Steve was looking at you, it was the same way Daniel had looked at Dottie all those years ago. The pull you felt to him in that moment was powerful. The confession of past trysts had brought back old feelings that you had spent the last year burying. He was so close. Uncomfortably close. You felt a tingling inside.

"Hh'iishew!" You sneezed forcefully into your lap.

You looked back up sheepishly, blush across your cheeks and feeling incredibly embarrassed. "S'rry."

To your surprise, Steve burst out laughing.

You pouted at this reaction. "Hey!" you whined, punching Steve playfully on the arm before finally succumbing to your own mirth.

"Bless you!"

"I distinc'ly r'member not being bo'vered by a bit of sneezin'."

"It doesn't bother me. It's just-"

"I kn'w."

It all felt so familiar, almost like you were reliving the moments before you had first kissed. Except now you were with Bucky and you'd never jeopardize your relationship with him, just for a memory of something that could have been. Steve's laughter had broken the spell, the moment you had shared.

"So what convinced you that what happened was real?" you asked, curiously.

"Because when I woke up the following morning, I found this." He started pulling something out of his pocket. "I never showed it to anyone, because they all laughed at the story."

Steve took your palm and placed something into it tenderly.

"St've!" you gasped as he moved his hand away.

You recognized it immediately. A dainty necklace with a ball pendant. A photo projection pendant. It was a graduation gift from your family, containing a picture of the five of you. They were your family, your only family, until you'd lost them all in a tragic accident soon after you'd graduated. You had survived only because you'd been on a post graduation trip with your friends. Everything in your home had been destroyed and you had few photographs on your phone because the days of digital photography were still in their infancy.

You held it up to your eye. There they were, just as you remembered them. Maybe a little more blurred than you remembered.

"Ace? What's wrong?" Steve's voice pierced your reverie. Concern laced his words as he watched your tears fall silently.

'St've…" You tried to explain, but felt totally overwhelmed by the return of a treasure that you had long accepted as lost. Before you knew what was happening, you were sobbing into Steve's chest as he held you tightly.

It was only Steve who noticed the front door opening and a shocked Bucky who was at your side in an instant. He looked over your head at Steve, who opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, totally bamboozled by your reaction.

It took you a minute or so to regain some composure and to acknowledge your boyfriend's presence.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

You wanted to tell him, to tell him that something wonderful had just happened, but words seemed to fail you and you just shook your head as your eyes and nose leaked mercilessly. It took you a minute to extract yourself from the tangle of Steve's arms and your blanket, but you managed it so that you could crawl into Bucky’s embrace. A place where you'd never felt safer, he was your home. Graciously, you accepted the tissues Steve handed you and attempted to clean yourself up a little. Bucky had the decency to not look too disgusted as you blew your nose repeatedly.

"Feeling better?" he asked as your breathing became calmer.

You nodded sheepishly. "We were just talking about the time travel situation. About Dottie and Daniel."

"Oh." Bucky's voice was quiet, a sudden stiffness in his posture that you were too tired to notice. But Steve had.

"Just comparing stories and how we remember what happened," he interjected.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you." Bucky apologized, despite his apprehensions about the discussion he had not been privy to.

"I guess I always knew the truth. And that was enough," Steve smiled at his old friend.

"B'ky." His name was barely intelligible as your voice crumbled under strain. "Look."

You held up your open palm in which your precious necklace was cocooned.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I thought I'd lost it years ago, but Steve kept it safe for me. Look inside." You demonstrated how to hold the necklace so he could see the image inside.

Bucky gasped as he saw the picture of you and your sisters smiling back at him in the tiny orb.

"Ace, this is wonderful!" He held you tightly knowing how important this memory was to you.

Your family wasn't something you'd discussed often with Steve in depth, but you had spoken to Bucky about them.

"We'll have to make sure you never lose them again."

You nodded up at him, laying your head on his chest, suddenly feeling worn out by the events of the afternoon.

"I think this is my cue to leave." Steve leaned forward and put a hand on your leg.

"Wait!" You sat up quickly. "You never saw them. You had this the whole time, you had my picture all these years. Here, look!"

Steve took the pendant into his hand, holding it up to his face. He smiled. "I'm glad I could them safe for you."

"Thank you."

Before anyone could say anything further, your phone started ringing. Sam's smiling face beamed up at you from the screen.

"Hey Sam!" you sat forwards and smiled at your friend.

"How you doing, sweet cheeks?"

"I'll live," you snaked.

"Missed you today."

"M'ss you too!"

"Tin man make it home alright?"

"Ye'h, he's 'ere." You panned the camera over to Bucky. "Scarecrow too!" You added, flicking over to Steve.

"Wait, are you calling me the cowardly lion?"

"You're the least cow'dly person I kno', Sam."

"You got that right, Dorothy. Now go get some rest."

"Thanks Sam. See you 'ater." You hung up the video call.

Steve and Bucky looked at you, the same question on their mind. Did Sam know the thrilling tale you had to tell?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #finding you #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #the wizard of oz

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kabie-whump · 1 month

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AJDJFJIWJDJD YOUR BAIT STORY OMFG.

May I ask for a final part, where Onthyes and Ventis comfort each other and apologize? Just overall sweetness between them with some angst? 👀 (sorry for the constant asks, I just LOVE your writing OMFG).

-- @whumperofworlds

Yes absolutely they definitely need this!

Part 1 | Part 2

Content: drugged whumpee, guilt, stitches, (oblivous) whumpee x caretaker

~~~

Ventis dozes off on the way to Onthyes's house. There's not even a second of fear that Onthyes will drop him, and he feels so safe being carried in his arms that it's easy to let the nightspill finally weigh him down into sleep.

Things are fuzzy after that as Ventis continues to drift in and out of consciousness. He feels himself being gently laid on a bed. Onthyes's scent surrounds him - warm and woody with a hint of citrus.

"The poor fucker." Shayah's voice sounds like it's miles away, but Ventis can feel her hands unwrapping the makeshift bandages covering the claw marks on his side. "He was trying so hard to stay sober."

"He'll recover." Onthyes sounds certain. How can he have so much faith in something who doesn't know how to do anything other than fuck up? "He has us. I just hope he doesn't blame himself."

Ventis lets himself drift above the soft lull of their voices. It's comforting, knowing that his friends have everything taken care of.

Then he's rudely yanked back to awareness by a stinging pain in his side. He gasps, trying to turn away from the source of the pain, but he's stopped by hands on his shoulders keeping him in place.

Ventis opens his eyes to see Onthyes's worried face hovering over him.

"I'm sorry," Onthyes says quickly. "We thought you'd stay out for longer. It will only take a minute, okay? Just try to hold still."

Ventis whines as the pain starts up again. He forces his eyes to focus enough to see what's happening, and nearly faints at the sight of Shayah pulling a length of bloody thread through his wound to hold it closed. Onthyes's hand finds his cheek quickly, turning his face so they're focused on each other.

"Don't look, Ventis. Focus on me. You're okay."

"It hurts," Ventis gasps.

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

Ventis shakes his head quickly. "No, It's mine. I should've let you- ah! Fuck!"

"Sorry, breezy," Shayah murmurs. "I'm almost done."

Onthyes grips Ventis's hands tightly, letting him squeeze them despite his claws digging into his skin. "I should've protected you. I promised I would always protect you."

"You shouldn't have to."

"That doesn't matter. Even if you become the most powerful sorcerer in this world I am always going to be there to keep you safe. I swear it."

Shayah ties off the stitches and reapplies bandages, but Ventis's full attention is on Onthyes. He's exhausted and in pain and he just wants to sleep but he can only stare up at the man kneeling next to him on the bed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ventis whispers. "Why would you..." He squeezes his eyes closed. "I'm not worth it."

Onthyes makes a pained sound. "Ventis, listen to me." He lets go of Ventis's hands and grabs his face, cupping both of his cheeks. Ventis does as he's told, meeting Onthyes's ivy green eyes and finding them watering dangerously.

"You are worth so much. You are everything to me and I can't let anything happen to you. That's why I get so overbearing sometimes. I need you to be safe because you are the most important thing in my life and I can't lose you."

"But... That's not fair. I can't lose you either. Why do you get to be the one putting yourself at risk for my sake? It's selfish, Onthyes. I need you. I need you alive and by my side and not throwing yourself in front of every bad thing that comes my way."

Tears finally escape Onthyes's eyes and he wipes them away quickly with a shaky smile.

"Let's protect each other, okay?" Ventis says. "You're not my bodyguard. Not my shield or my armor. You're my best friend."

Shayah, who had been quietly putting away her suture tools, let out an exasperated groan, muttering something about "they're so fucking clueless I'm gonna kill them" as she storms out of the room.

~~~

Ventisposting taglist: @scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet @rainydaywhump

@unicornbeck @whumperofworlds

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spnangelbang · 11 months

Text

“An Act of Humanity” - Thursday, July 6

Author: seidenapfel ( @seidenapfel ) Artist: xfancyfranart ( @xfancyfranart ) Rating: Explicit Featured characters: Castiel, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Gadreel Featured relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Length: 24,000 Tags: Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Alternative Season 9, Human!Cas Summary: Cast out of the bunker, Castiel is lost. Adapting to humanity feels like a punishment for his deeds. When he becomes sick, weakened by cold and hunger, the battery on his phone allows him one last call to say goodbye.

Alarmed, Dean rushes to save Cas. He’s right on time. But with Ezekiel threatening to let Sam die if Cas steps back into the bunker, they are forced to share a motel room.

Castiel slowly recovers under Dean's care, when an accidental kiss changes everything.

Things might finally turn for the better, if it weren’t for the situation at home.

Excerpt:

Castiel didn’t know what was wrong with him. Trudging over the yard, he reached the hole in the fence that had allowed him entrance the night before. After all, he needed to find something to eat. With each step, his cough only worsened and he felt like a fire burned him up from the inside.

At this speed, he wouldn’t reach the diner with the nice owner that had offered him some free food each day. Castiel wasn’t even sure if he would reach the end of the street. Maybe, he would be able to reach the dumpster where he had found some old bread the day before, though. He had left part of it behind, knowing that others would be as hungry as he was, probably even hungrier.

Now, however, he regretted not having been selfish. With the last energy he could find inside him, Castiel arrived at the dumpster and almost wept when the bread was still there.

Eagerly, he buried his teeth in the stale bread until there was nothing left behind. Yet, his exhaustion didn’t go away. Castiel trudged to the end of the alley and sat down against the wall.

His fingers shivered when he started the phone. If this was his last day on Earth, he needed to allow himself to be selfish. Just this once.

“Cas, buddy? That you?”

Tears streamed down Castiel’s face when he heard the voice, for real this time. “Hello, Dean.” A coughing fit interrupted him.

“Dude, you okay? Goddammit, where the hell are you?” Dean sounded alarmed.

Just knowing that Dean still cared for him lifted Castiel’s heart. He leant his head against the cold and clammy wall behind him, closing his eyes, and admitted, “I don’t think I feel very well, Dean. I—”

#spnangelbang #spnangelbang promos #artist: xfancyfranart #author: seidenapfel #destiel fic #destiel art

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magnorious · 4 months

Text

Review: I Plunge to My Death; Percy Jackson Ep. 4

TL;DR: They turned a pit-stop into a main event and troubles ensued.

The consequences of shoving half the book into the first two episodes? Episode 4. Baby Percy is, again, adorable, no complaints. The opening scene, Kronos’ slithery voice – we are right back in the thick of it, until we’re not. Best part of the episode is easily the first 4 minutes and it does not recover, I am sorry.

Echidna gets a ridiculous amount of screen time, monologuing on and on and on… On the train, no less, not in the Arch.

Adaptations are allowed to be their own thing, but they are *adaptations* first. The choices that were made in the source material were made for a reason. If the book was bad, no one would have read it, and money wouldn’t be spent turning it into a TV show.

So, in the book, Echidna had a couple pages, and Percy was completely alone confronting her. She showed up, revealed herself, got a one-liner or two in, kicked his butt, and then he fell – end of scene. It was a whirlwind of chaos and incredibly efficient without being spoonfed “I am a monster” until they get the picture.

The purpose of this beat in the story came from Percy’s experience in the river and then St. Louis is behind them – it’s a pitstop, not a centerpiece. Echidna has no thematic connection to any of the characters like Medusa, she doesn’t need to overstay her welcome.

If you didn’t read the book, the episode is fine. The writing is okay, the acting, the VFX. They do retain the family of centaurs and establish Grover being a Searcher for Pan.

It’s not bad! It’s puzzling. The changes are puzzling.

All the filler – Echidna’s monologue, Athena’s temple, Annabeth being unnecessarily rude to Grover, Percy getting poisoned – they don’t feel like the same meaningful changes that were made to extend Medusa’s scenes. They feel like they exist to fill an entire episode before the next big set piece that has to wait until episode 5. The pacing has been thrown completely off balance.

Which wouldn’t have happened if they didn’t rush ten chapters of content.

Because they knew exactly how long the chimera fight would be – about 45 seconds, beat for beat, exactly as it was written. Echidna is just not important in the grand scheme of the story. They still have to fill an entire episode now, so what do they do?

They double back on the character development and the growing friendship established in episode 3 when they all start arguing over Athena for… reasons? In Athena’s temple, Annabeth’s suggestion for Percy to reach out to his dad there would be mighty offensive to the goddess. She calls herself out, saying she knows she’s forcing herself to believe Athena cares about her, the way it was written just makes her look selfish and rude.

There Grover is, all upset about the monument filled with paintings of humans over-hunting buffalo and Annabeth’s response is basically “get over it”. Doesn’t matter if she regrets it once he’s gone, she doesn’t apologize to him and she still believes what she said.

Percy doesn’t need to be poisoned to lose hard to Echidna and the chimera. He’s at his full strength and still panics and botches the fight. He already doubts that his dad cares about him.

The episode does recover its footing somewhat (after padding the runtime) by finally getting him alone in the last 8 minutes. Percy cements his disdain for his dad and how little he feels appreciated, respected, or even noticed by the gods – enough to decide he’ll fight and probably lose alone because he doesn’t matter to the gods anyway. Once he’s in the river, the nereid shows up, tells him to breathe, that Poseidon’s proud, and… cut to black. There's no wonder at his new abilities, no fascination, no "maybe being a demigod is a little bit cool, wow," and no consideration that his dad does care, even a little bit.

The only book change for the better? Percy choosing to go at it alone instead of ending up alone by accident.

I hate to come down so hard on this episode but pacing is critical. The beginning of the book feels slow because there’s a lot of internal monologue, a lot of introspection, lots of breaks between action, and several time skips – Percy spends a couple days at camp before going on his quest and packs a lot of character building moments into it – and they rushed through it all.

St. Louis was already rushed in the book, and this is where they decided to throw in all the filler to slow it down? Writers, if you wanted to pad the runtime, include Gladiola the Poodle giving them directions. Include chapter 14 – the entirety of which is spent in the river establishing new powers and getting told about the gift in Santa Monica, and exacerbating the problem of Percy being mistaken for a terrorist. Ares can still wait and no one would complain.

It’s not the acting, from anyone. It’s not the directing, either. Everyone who worked on this show: The actors, the editors, the set designers, costume department, makeup department, VFX, foley, props, music and sound design, and everyone in between – you all did fantastic and your work is recognized and appreciated.

It’s the big picture that just did not come together this time.

I really, truly, wanted to enjoy this episode coming off the high that was Episode 3 and I’m just left confused once again at all the choices that were made. Just because the bar for greatness was two feet into the topsoil from the first adaptation doesn’t mean it gets to skate by on “well it’s better than what we got before”.

#pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #review

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