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storytimewithnova · 8 months

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DEADLY INSOMNIAC

Chaotic friends group Sho Kei Kenma Kunimi Suna Akasshi keiji(there to keep them under control) Omi Shira Yahaba (shirabu twin) [Semi

Siblings Akaashi Keiji Akaashi Hajime (goes under Iwaizumi at school) Akaashi shona(goes under hinata at school) Akaashi Seijiro Akaashi Natsuki(Shorten to Natsu she will be to young to understand)

Cousins Miya Atsumu Miya Osamu Miya Tori (goes under Oikawa at school)

Shona is Neice to Ushijima

Backstory before the actual story This will involve Fatal familial insomnia or FFI Shona suffers from FFI her brothers Cousins and friends don't know about it but her bfs do how will semishira deal with their girlfriends disease

Songs used

Listen before I go Semishira sing safe and sound even though sho is dead

-------------------------------Keep Reading-------------------------------

Meet Akaashi Shona A bright bubbly kind hearted girl beloved sister to 5 siblings an asset to the Volleyball team with her strategic mind at least the was who shona Use to be let's Meet her now and how her life has changed drastically for the worse

In Average you are meant to have 8 hours of sleep to function but what if sleep can be somewhat deadly what if it leads to your death that is what is happening to Akaashi Shona her 3 brothers and cousins don't know what is happening with her but her boyfriends semishira do after talking with her bfs she agreed for her to tell her brothers cousins and the chaotic Friend group what is happening with her while thinking of a way to tell them she hit a random playlist and just started singing while Kenjiro was recording her

Shona:🎶I had a dream I got everything I wanted Not what you'd think And if I'm being honest It might've been a nightmare To anyone who might care🎶

Eita's thoughts💭 but we care songbird this is killing you literally when you say nightmare you mean that in a very literal sense because this is a nightmare for all of us and i hurts you plastering on a fake smile for us knowing any day could be your last

Shona continues to sing and dance around her room

Shona:🎶Thought I could fly (fly) So I stepped off the Golden, mm Nobody cried (cried, cried, cried, cried) Nobody even noticed I saw them standing right there Kinda thought they might care (might care, might care🎶

Kenjiro's thoughts💭 I thought i told you to get rid of those bad thoughts honey or at least come to me ans Ei I know i act like i have a stick up my ass but i love you both of you this is killing me

Shona:🎶I had a dream I got everything I wanted But when I wake up, I see You with me And you say🎶

Semishira:🎶"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you Don't wanna lie here, but you can learn to If I could change the way that you see yourself You wouldn't wonder why you hear 'They don't deserve you'"🎶

Shona:Kenji? Ei?

She gave a soft weak smile and continued

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Shoma:🎶I tried to scream But my head was underwater They called me weak Like I'm not just somebody's daughter It could've been a nightmare But it felt like they were right there🎶

Shona's Pov I Tried to scream I wanted to scream but I was in the void trapped between lfe and death and it felt like i was underwater when I fell in a coma I remember everything Karasuno did to me and how the called me weak among other things it felt just like a nightmare but everyone was right there and did nothing

shona:🎶And it feels like yesterday was a year ago But I don't wanna let anybody know 'Cause everybody wants something from me now And I don't wanna let 'em down I had a dream I got everything I wanted But when I wake up, I see You with me And you say🎶

semishira:🎶"As long as we're here, no one can hurt you Don't wanna lie here, but you can learn to If I could change the way that you see yourself You wouldn't wonder why you hear 'They don't deserve you'"🎶

Shona:🎶If I knew it all then, would I do it again? Would I do it again? If they knew what they said would go straight to my head What would they say instead? If I knew it all then, would I do it again? Would I do it again? If they knew what they said would go straight to my head What would they say instead?🎶

when shona had finished semi sent it to their GC they watched it they don't see the hospital but the see her and see how weak she looks then they heard her singing and they tried to understand what she is trying to say she finally to took to their chat

In the Chaotic Bitches 4life GC

Shona is online

Sho: hey guys can you sit and observe please

Everyone: Hai

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Sho:🎶Take me to the rooftop I wanna see the world when I stop breathing Turning blue Tell me, love is endless, don't be so pretentious Leave me, like you do (like you do)🎶

Shona's thoughts💭 Sorry Ni chans you are finding out this way i guess you could say i Don't have long

Keiji was looking at the chat apart of him dying to question what she meant like did her past trauma come back not that it really left or what happened but something was also holding him back so he waited to see what else she will say he could also see his other siblings itching to question her but he told them No

Back in the chat

Shona:🎶If you need me Wanna see me Better hurry 'Cause I'm leaving soon🎶

The brothers started having worrying thoughts like is shona Su!c!dal or hurting her self in some way to bad thoughts on Shirabu and Semi that they cheated or hurt her

Shona:🎶Sorry, can't save me now Sorry, I don't know how Sorry, there's no way out (sorry) But down, mm down🎶

Semi:songbird where are you you not in your room

What semi means is she is not in her hospital room she is currently on the hospital rooftop but semi and shirabu didn't know that and now he is on high alert

Shira: love please

Semi:- she said Rooftop-

The brothers: where is our sister

The bestie: where is our bestie

Semi: we don't know we are looking

shira:-Eita i'm worried-

Semi:-same Kenji same-

they made it to the rooftop to see Shona at the edge of roof she wasn't looking so good she look like she is trying to just cling on to whatever life he has so she can finish telling her family and friends goodbye

shona:-loves please let me enjoy my final moments under the moon and start with you-

semi:-of course songbird-

shona:🎶Taste me, the salty tears on my cheek That's what a year-long headache does to you I'm not okay, I feel so scattered Don't say I'm all that matters Leave me Deja vu🎶

Her brothers read her messages and they grew ever worried about her the Chaotic friends were in a state of confusion trying to work out why their head bitch their queen of Chaos is saying all this while she was having a scenes of Deja Vu

Shona:🎶If you need me Wanna see me You better hurry I'm leaving soon Sorry, can't save me now Sorry, I don't know how (sorry) Sorry, there's no way out (sorry) But down, mm down🎶

back in the chat her siblings are going mad thiking all sorts and trying to find her location

shona:🎶Call my friends and tell Them that I love them And I'll miss them But I'm not sorry Call my friends and tell them that I love them And I'll miss them Sorry🎶

LATER THAT NIGHT SHONA PASSED AWAY SO SEMISHIRA TOOK TO THE GROUP CHAT WITH EVERYONE NOT JUST TO TELL HER SIBLINGS SHE IS GONE BUT ALSO TO MAKE SOME CROWS REGRET AND THEY ARE PARTLY TO BLAME

ALL SPORTS JUNKIES GC

Everyone is online

Semi is online shira is online

Shirabu: can we ask everyone to sit back and observe and hold all questions pleaae

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Semi:🎶I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go🎶

Semi's pov: i do i remember you coming to mine and Jiro's dorm crying your eyes about how Karasuno was using you to beat us how Kageyama repeatedly cheated on you and how their first year manager made up rumours that hurt you more physically and mentally and that was the night me and Jiro told you we would never let you go were we holding on to tight that you slipped through our hands songbird we miss you .

Back to the chat

Shirabu:🎶When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said don't leave me here alone But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight🎶

Keiji: what is happened to my sister

Hajime: let them talk baby bro

Semi:🎶 Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone🎶

Kei: omg no please No

Osamu: moonlight

Kei went offline and he told osamu his theory

Osamu: No please No not my baby cousin please

Everyone else confused osamu inboxed the family the theory

The Akaashi siblings: No say psyche now

Shirabu:🎶Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound Ooh (ooh)🎶

Shirabu's thoughts💭 no you won't be alright because you are gone i wish me did more so guys we couldn't protect her more

Shirabu is crying hugging shona

🎶Ooh (ooh) Ooh (ooh) Oh whoa (oh whoa) Oh whoa (oh whoa) Ooh (ooh) Ooh (ooh) Oh whoa Oh whoa🎶

Semishira:🎶Just close your eyes You'll be alright Come morning light You and I'll be safe and sound🎶

🎶Ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh Ooh, ooh🎶

Semi: we are sorry shona passed away not long ago

Tori:how? No not my little cousin

The siblings:Tori Ni calm down but yeah was it su!c!de

Shirabu: no guys god where did you get that from

Seijiro: her messages earlier

Semi: no it wasn't it was FFI and the crows are partly to blame

Everyone- the crows: WHAT?! WHAT DID YOU GUYS DO TO HER?

Semi: are you going to tell them or us

The crows: ....

Shirabu: vow of silence okay us it is Keiji Haijime and Seijiro they were using your sister to beat us they overworked her when she was dating Kageyama he was using her for her body and was serial cheat their first year manager made up rumours that coursed her to be bulled beaten up on a daily bases

Semi: everything they did coursed her nightmares she suffered so much and she was diagnosed with FFI she struggled to sleep she stopped eating she got weaker and weaker lately she has been living in the hospital and earlier tonight she died

The crows: .....

Kise: you lot a despicable you did that to princess and showed zero remorse

Keiji:you are the reason for our sisters death

Haijime: we will have Karasuno sued

Osamu: and Kei is coming to inarizaki

Kei: was already planning on it i told my parents the moment i saw the crows true colors

Ushijima:Coaches are you reading this

Coaches: we are Wakatoshi

The crows:😨

Ushijima: what do you think should happen to the crows as punishment for sunshine

Tendou: wow ushi you are really protective of little monster

Ushijima: she is my Niece and those crows really tried me so Coaches what do you say

Ukai: for the record i knew none of what the crows did but in light of learning about it me and Takada quit you guys do what you want

-----------------------keep reading--------------------------------------

Word got around about what the crows did no one wants to join the Volleyball club after that let alone the school itself semi found one more message was left for the family and friends

Hey shona here for i guess the vey last time Eita if you received this it means i passed away any way i knew i had FFI i knew I was a ticking time bomb you see FFI i read about it or a version of it in a fanfic about Keiji Ni and bokuto san I made Kenji read it well as you can see its real and it kills looks like i was it's next victim i said Karasuno was partly to blame main Kageyama but there were other factors EITA SHITABU I LOVE YOU, OKAY I LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BEYOND BUT THERE ARE SOME THINGS THAT YOU JUST CAN’T FIGHT THIS IS ONE Please Eita and Kenji Remember Me just knowing you’re here and you loved me is enough just seeing you and making memories before the Inevitable is enough playing volleyball and goofing off even if it’s one last time is enough we’re enough for this world and the next and that is where i will find you both again.

As semi and shirabu read it they said

Semishira:promise you will come back to Us Songbird/Sunshine in the next life

Shona:Plan on honoring that promise till We three meet again goodbye my loves

Semishira:we love you Sho Too the Moon

Shona:I love You too And Beyond

Shona fades leaving Her two crying boyfriends standing there cluching their lockets like a lifeline to their one and only

#Youtube

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free-pool-trash · 3 years

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happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #x men x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

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mudstoneabyss · 2 years

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nobody asked for this but shares it anyway. I think part of Carlos's trauma and negative associations with the desert otherworld is because he did have an affair with Kevin. I think it was at a point in time where he'd already been in there for years without finding a way out and during a period of months where he wasn't hearing from Cecil at all- I don't think the time difference between the otherworld and night vale is an equal ratio, so while Cecil contacted Carlos every day, Carlos would go days to weeks to months without hearing from him- which was the longest period without contact in all those ten years, so he, in a depressed state, kind of convinced himself that he wouldn't ever find a way back and be with Cecil again. Fuck, night vales dangerous, for all he knew Cecil may have stopped contacting him because he was dead. so he became set on making his life in the otherworld now, and there he was, and there Kevin was, the only other person close, someone he had now known for a longer period of time than he's known Cecil, already so unsubtle about his crush on him, and so, so easy to imagine that he was almost Cecil. It wasn't something that was immediately intense and spur of the moment, there was lingered touches and flirting and multiple conscious decisions leading towards an unspoken committed relationship. And I think Carlos did love Kevin, not as much as he loved Cecil, and not the way he loved Cecil, but he did. And I think that that love was tainted by guilt and shame that makes me feel like Carlos never could've stayed in the otherworld or brought Kevin back to night vale without it being detrimental to his mental health. I also think it's why he said the things that he did the way that he did before leaving Kevin, and why he doesn't contact him at all or, when telling Nilanjana things about his time in the Otherworld that he wouldn't even tell Cecil, he never mentions Kevin at all, and in fact iirc says that he was alone despite us knowing he wasn't. Also I think it could explain why he doesn't tell Cecil about how long he really was in there, and why Kevin was so certain that Carlos was talking about Cecil instead of him before leaving, that Carlos felt the same he did

edit: some more things I'm adding, "Maybe you both would be better off doing what you love, in different places. Without each other. Maybe neither of you were as happy as either of you thought." Is like. That's literally a breakup, Carlos does say that he "spent the last year all wrong" which could mean less my thoughts on the time frame for this and more he and Kevin weren't a thing until that year of the ten, but I think it could also be that finknor hadn't come up with it actually being 10 years yet, or maybe that year they started building a home with each other which is what made Carlos start feeling especially worse about their relationship.

Kevin is also super unsubtle about flirting with Carlos "Look at how we both notice things about each other! I love that!" especially is very "Aw look how cute we are together I love that about us <3", "Oh, and speaking of sunshine, Carlos just arrived here, live in the studio with me." is him calling Carlos sunshine & he says "with me" all "🥰🫀😍💛" and "People like me, and like my friend Carlos. He's a scientist. He's a beautiful man who does beautiful things." is him openly calling Carlos beautiful while on the phone with him and the way he says "my friend Carlos" is very suggestive- again whilst on the phone with him. He's also very open about the disdain in his voice when he refers to Cecil as Carlos's boyfriend. All this could be just him being unsubtle about a crush, but Kevin is typically better at hiding the true emotions in his words, at least at this point in podcast. he is also openly very flirtatious with Charles before they were dating technically, but at that point Charles had already shown he was interested (from the way Kevin described them meeting) so I think thatd show more that Carlos had in some way reciprocated interested in Kevin than that Kevin is Like That with crushes in general

#I know a lot of people dont like to think that he cheated bc ceci//los perfect in love otp hed never!!!#but like. it makes sense. & the whole train of thought leading me to make this post is the way nobody in night vale is rlly a good person?#but people like to imagine that they are #or more specifically yeah theyd do bad things but never the stuff that that person thinks is bad in an unfun way #and i also think this is interesting to think about? like the complexities of carlos and kevin and their relationship and their characters #wtnv #joyousposting #🔪#long post #cheating tw #im thinking a lot about this now djqjkqjdhen this went from ''yeah i think this personally''#''wait actually this. makes more sense than if he didnt heres why''

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

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Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 4- People Of Earth

Summary: On the run from the Avengers in your search for a way off Earth, you meet some mortal annoyances along the way until a certain blue eyed human is able to find you wandering in the forest. But can he convince you to come back to the Avenger’s base with him?

Warning: action, blood, fighting, Bucky doing his best, slight fluff

Masterlist - Chapter 3

So Bucky had been thinking.

If finding Y/N was only as easy as looking at her red dot on the tracker, then damn, he could just teleport to her no problem. Unfortunately the worlds technology hasn't yet reached Star Trek technological advancements, nor can he teleport. It's been a long hectic couple days trying to find her which is starting to drive Bucky up a wall, how is she so sneaky? He can literally see her location at all times but yet she's evaded him at all costs without even trying, she doesn't even know a tracker is attached to the inside of her jacket.

And the team, they haven't been much help at all. They've decided to listen to Fury's orders and stay clear of Bucky's mission when it comes to finding the escaped demigod and bringing her back to the Avenger's base. A lot of help they are. At least Steve checks in for updates when he's not getting pulled into a training session by any particular person of the hour. Maybe the tracker doesn't even work. Maybe?

No, it's Stark made. It has to work, this problem is simply Y/N.

Bucky pulls off to the side of the road near a little park in some rural town way outside of New York City where he knows Y/N went through not even twenty-three hours ago. He opens his door, slamming it shut in frustration before taking in a big breath of fresh air. The day is slightly overcast yet he doesn't appear to mind it at all, having the hot sun blaring down upon him never feels very pleasant. Then again, maybe he's just more familiar with colder temperatures.

A crow flies down across the vacant road from him, it ignores Bucky as it jumps onto the road in order to pick at some road kill of a dead flattened squirrel. Bucky reverts his gaze when his eyes soon land upon a bent wooden telephone line further up the road where it looks like a car ran right into it. Wanting to stretch his legs for a bit and feed into his curiosity, Bucky jogs across the street and over to the area of flattened grass and wood splinters.

He observes the wreckage. Its just as he saw from farther away, a splintered post with pieces of wood spread across the grass from the impact. A couple glass chunks shimmer in the few rays of sunlight peeking out from behind the clouds. There are tire marks imprinted into the mudded ground leading up to the post, he crouches down to get a better look at the source of impact.

A dog barks in the background, its legs getting closer and closer to Bucky until a wet slobbery nose finds its way onto Bucky's right arm. The face of a golden retriever greets him as a young man races to the spot looking very embarrassed.

"Trout! Get away from the man, be nice! Be nice! He might not want your kisses!" He shouts desperately, "Trout!"

Bucky pets the friendly dog while his owner runs to their spot before standing to greet him, "He's fine, don't worry about it."

The red faced man smiles shyly, "I'm so sorry. He gets so excited whenever there's a stranger around I just don't understand it."

Bucky shakes his head, "It's fine, really. I like dogs."

The dog sniffs around Bucky's boots before sniffing the skid marks, "Oh I'm Gio by the way, sorry about my boy Trout. I love him but he can be a lot."

"Hi." Mutters Bucky, "I'm James."

"Nice to meet you..oh..Trout drop that piece of wood you nucklehead it's sharp!" The dog stops before dropping the wood, it starts sniffing around the grounds again. Gio looks at Bucky, "It's too bad what happened here, just last night too. Thank God nobody died! It's just unfortunate."

"What happened?"

Gio nods towards the splintered pole, "Some nutcase ran out in front of the guy driving and then bam, he just swerved to miss 'em and ended up totaling his car and getting a bruised collar bone. He's my neighbor. Poor guy, never got a proper look at the idiot who did it either so there's no one to blame."

Bucky's brows furrow, "No one saw who ran in front of your friend?"

Gio stops a second to think harder on the matter, "Hmm...okay wait a second Nick did say this person moved like faster then a frickin' deer. They were here one second and gone the next, right into the woods."

"Where is Nick now? Is he okay?"

"Oh yeah he's fine, just chillin' in his hospital bed for another day until his headache goes away. Guess he also got a concussion or something, some shit luck I tell you."

"Thank you, I gotta go." Says Bucky quickly before turning on his heels and jogging across the street. Leaving a very confused Gio to go run after his dog again.

There's a hefty possibility that Y/N had absolutely nothing to do with anything surrounding that crash, however, Bucky has to know. He pulls into the Westonville Hospital before Winter Soldier sneaking his way inside and now here he stands on the other side of the door to Nick's room, 213. He knocks, a man answers and says to come in, Bucky does. Shutting the door right after.

The man lays upright in bed, sipping on a juice box as he quickly locks eyes with Bucky. "Hello." Says the twenty-something year old, "You a nurse?"

Bucky could have laughed, "No. Just here to ask you a couple questions."

"Listen man, the police already got my statement. I wasn't drunk...nor on anything at the time. I don't do that shit while driving, I wanna stay alive okay?"

"Right." Mutters Bucky, "I just want to know if you saw this person who caused you to wreck."

He eyes Bucky suspiciously, "Dude are you with the FBI or something? Cause the police think I just saw a deer but I'm telling you it wasn't a deer okay?"

"What was it then?"

The man looks from the door then back to Bucky, he makes a waving motion for him to walk closer, "Dude, this was some lady. She was so fast I never even saw her till she was almost road kill...then....and you're not gonna believe me....then I swear to God, she pushed my car." Whispers Nick before nodding, "Dude that's how I went into the pole, she pushed me and I lost control and BAM! Right into a pole. Asshole, my damn car is fucked."

"Do you know what she looked like?" Nick then proceeds to give an accurate description of you and all your beautiful chaotic-ness, who's apparently still not very fond of human transportation vehicles.

Bucky then glances from Nick still rambling about you and what a dickhead you must be, to the window showing the woods and half a parking lot. He can't let you escape him again, you might end up killing someone next time and that absolutely cannot happen.

——

Stupid men! Stupid humans getting in your way! These people are irritating and bothersome, all you wanted was to search for the Ancient One in peace. All you want is to find her and get the fuck off this planet so you can confront your brother and...

"Miss are you okay?" A scratchy voice speaks to you from the car to your left, you turn your head to meet the face of a young woman looking at you with kind eyes, "You need a ride?"

"No."

She gives you a look, your appearance is admittedly more roughed up then you would like, but it's been a rough couple days since your last shower and you're technically on the run from Earth's Avengers. "You sure? I got room in here, and a nice place to stay with food and a shower too. Just tryna be nice to someone who looks like they could use a hand." You look like you could use a hand to the face.

Your brows furrow, she reeks of too much perfume and something else, "What kind of food?" You technically do need a ride and this may be your only chance to get one somewhere away from this place in the middle of nowhere. Also a place to stay for the night would be admittedly very nice considering you've been sleeping in trees and behind people's sheds.

Her eyes light up in surprise, "Anything you want. Just tell me and I got you."

"Good."

She unlocks the door, "Come on in. I'm Ava by the way. Nice to meet you, now I hope you don't mind but back at my place I got a couple roommates. But don't worry they come and go, they won't bother you I promise." You don't believe her, but hop in next to her anyways. She looks like she could use a better friend then whoever she stays with. You can smell at least one of them on her.

She gives you a strange faltering smile when you take notice of a nose piercing; she wears a jacket and jeans, although an odd tattoo showing off some line of numbers keeps itself on her right wrist hidden by some colorful bracelets. All in all she is an attractive woman. But her car is no better then her person, the scent is vulgar and repulsive but you're admittedly too hungry to care. Too much perfume.

The ride to her apartment complex takes about twenty minutes, in this time Ava has explained to you how her favorite food, chicken alfredo, is made. She also won't stop looking at the long mirror above your heads, it's like something keeps drawing her attention but there's nothing behind the car of any important significance. Maybe that's just a human thing?

Eventually she takes a couple turns that passes more street stores, houses, and apartments until she drives near a gas station and takes a left for an apartment building of reddish brick that looks like a shitty castle.

It's nestled within the town, with its rear to a small park, oddly enough she claims you can see the city from the roof. Getting out, you watch as she shuts her door before jogging to the back and pulling out a couple groceries. "Oh hey there, can you get the waters, there's like three packs here but we can come back for them later."

You quickly walk to the back of her trunk and lean down to pick up all three waters with ease, her eyes go big, "Oh wow..okay yeah, that'll work." She shuts the back, you begin following her across the parking lot. Stomach growling.

Her wary eyes fall onto you, "So uh, you lift?"

"No."

She nods, "Cool cool, uh you from around here?"

"No."

"Okay cool, I am, well not originally...I was actually from Arizona but then I ran away when I was thirteen because my home life was pretty shit and then I met my boyfriend Jed and he took me here and..." Her face shifts into a frown before it regains it's half smile once more, "Doesn't matter now I guess, it's not fantastic here...with him. But I got a place to stay and a roof over my head and he gets me anything I want really. So it's not so bad."

You can't help but feel somethings not right with her, and this bothers you deeply, "So uh, how's your lover? Jed."

She frowns, "Oh he's nice....I wouldn't say lover I guess....and he's kinda older then me but it's fine really. You might see him, he comes and goes yunno?"

She opens the glass doors for you to walk inside, the area smells of stale air and smoke, "How old?"

She purses her lips together, "Not that much older, I'm seventeen he's just a little above that. But it works for us, he's got me a nice place and he loves me so that's nice." Her smile falters, you can tell something isn't right here but can't quite place your finger on it.

Ava keeps silent for the rest of the trek upstairs until she leads you down a long hallway to a tall white door reading A8 on the front, a small glass porthole in the center. She gets her keys out, "Try not to touch anything, he doesn't like messes okay? Just uh, follow me okay, he might have a friend here."

"Alright then. Proceed." She gives a little nod before unlocking the door and opening it up to reveal a large apartment as clean as a button, with the exception of a few tall thin glass bottles empty of all liquid laying on the short glass table in the lounging area. A large screen is on showcasing something of little importance to you.

Ava sets the groceries on the kitchen counter before racing over to the short table, "Oh sorry about the mess, please just set the waters down by the trash can. Give me a moment." You look down to find a tall thin metal can, doesn't look like a trash can but you set the three cases of water down anyways.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen she hastily rushes in to drop the bottles in the trash can, "I'll put the stuff away, do you-do you want anything?"

"Whatever gives me enough strength to continue on my journey."

"Right. Yeah okay uh we got," She opens up the fridge, "we got some burritos from last night. And fruit....a lot of beer....you don't want that. Here, I'll heat this up for you okay." She shuts the fridge and takes the assumed burrito to another square object hanging from the wall. She pops open the door before placing the food inside and shutting it.

She turns it on. "What is that device?" You ask a sit makes a strange vacuum sound.

She raises a brow, "A microwave." Voice on the tinge of humor, the microwave beeps and she soon opens it back up. "Here ya go! It's a day old so don't worry, still fresh."

She hands it to you, you look down at the warm thing wrapped in a brown paper, "Appreciated."

Your meal is well received and admittedly pretty delicious, once finished do you walk over to the giant glass window to have a look outside, you can see the tops of many trees and farther away across the greenery lays a city just as Ava had spoken of.

Maybe the Ancient One resides somewhere in there, hidden, but within the ginormous labyrinth of steel, cement, and glass. Farther down the hallway a door swings open and the pattering of bare feet is heard walking down the tiled floors of shiny white. This place really is clean, like a small palace for the mortals.

The man stops at the end of the halls archway though you don't care to look at him, "Ava who's the bitch over there? I thought Jed wasn't buying anymore for a few weeks." Whispers the man to the kind woman, Ava, who stands frozen in the kitchen.

You immediately don't like him, but stay your ground to listen, she whispers back, "She's a friend. Needed somewhere to stay for a day or so."

He walks over to her, "He's gonna be pissed when he sees your new friend here. If she's not here to sell, get her the fuck out before your man comes home tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah tonight. His trip to Vegas ended yesterday, he's on his way. Don't you know how time works?"

She shakes her head, "Guess I just forgot is all. I'll make sure she's gone."

He looks over to give you a proper once over, you can hear his heartbeat quicken, "Not too bad either. Nice ass, she looks good..real good, it's a damn shame she's not here to stay for the fun. I wouldn't mind a couple of rounds with her myself."

Your fists clench, you've had enough of this jabbering animal, "Oh really?" You turn around to watch as his eyes go wide when they take notice of the golden color of your irises, "What filth you spill off of that thing you call a mouth is repulsive and disgusting. Who are you may I ask?"

He quickly retains his swagger once again, he takes a step forward, "I'm Jed's right hand man, Antonio, I run this bitch when he's away and I don't like how you're talking to me."

"I'm not entirely fond of your existence. Leave us, I want to speak with Ava alone."

Antonio's face shows bewildered rejection, "Excuse me?"

You take a threatening step forward, "I don't believe my tongue slipped. You heard me correctly. Leave." He keeps still as a statue, mind still processing your words. Clearly no on had ever bothered to talk to him like this before.

He blinks and points a hand up for emphasis, "No whore tells me what I can and can't do in my own goddamn house!" He immediately rushes past Ava to grab something under the kitchen bar.

She gasps in surprise, "Tony no! Don't do this! Put it away she didn't mean it, she doesn't I swear! I swear!"

He walks back around to shove her into the couch, "Shut up." He throws up his arm to reveal a black hand held object that could be nothing else but a small gun, you stare at it in curiosity, expression interested and unfazed.

He doesn't like that, he tilts the gun at you angrily, "What's up now huh! You ain't telling me to do nothin' I run this fucker up in here! So you're gonna fuckin' listen to me you whore! I'll fu.." Antonio's body stiffens, his eyes go wide as saucers when he realizes he's not able to move, not able to speak.

Hands kept to your sides, you curl the fingers of your right hand to bloodbend this imbecile. Moving this hand to the right, Antonio's grasp is forced open and the gun clatters to the floor. "What are you doing!?" Shouts Ava fearfully.

"Teaching a dog a lesson."

Curling the fingers of your other hand, Antonio is forced to walk in staggered painful steps across the carpet at your will, Ava gasps in fright as she watches your little horror show. "Men don't treat their people like animals, you want to act like a beast. Then you'll be one."

His throat makes a dry crackly sound as he tries to scream when you move your hands to orchestrate a new action, Antonio is forced to his knees where he crawls like a dog across the clean carpet. A frightened man he becomes, his movements choppy and forced, body awkward and stiff as he moves on all fours. Proud of your work, you walk over to the man and crouch down to reach his level, "You see, the universe has created us all for a reason. Whether we are powerful or not, that control we have can be taken as it can be given."

He mumbles a reply that cannot be heard properly even by your hears.

"You know of your power?" He shakes his head as you smirk, "Your strength is built from fear and hatred. That is no way to find your place in the world, that is how tyrants lead."

Drool runs down the side of his mouth as his eyes look up to you pleadingly. "Stop it! You're hurting him!" Shouts Ava.

You give Antonio a pitiful look, "I know. And this creature deserves more then I'm willing him to do, but because you've gained my respect. I will release him." Standing, you flick your hands and Antonio is released from your trance. He coughs and sputters in a curled up heap on the floor like a beaten old dog.

"Pathetic." You mutter dryly as Ava breaths heavily from the couch.

"Wh-what are you?" She whispers, "Are you a witch?"

"No. But I am someone who is done with this place." You give her a respectful tilt of your head, "Ava, I thank you for your hospitality, but I must leave." She watches as you take one last look around the room before walking towards the closed door. Turning the handle you're prepared to exit when she screams. "Antonio no!"

Boom!

The bullet stops three inches from the back of your head, whipping around to face your assailant, he fires two more rounds as you halt the bullets in their tracks. He registers what's happening and quickly chooses to pull the trigger again. As a plethora of steel flies your way, you raise an open palm that causes them all to freeze in place.

The room goes deathly silent before Antonio takes a single step and you've sent all five bullets straight through his vulnerable flesh. Blood flies across the walls as he slumps to the ground while Ava gasps in terror, too afraid to make a sound.

You frown, gaze set on Ava, "I'm sorry I had to do this in front of you. He gave me no choice, but I think this loss will not be mourned over." Your golden eyes flicker back down at the bullet ridden body, "A quick death is more then he deserved. So long Ava, be brave."

The door opens.

"What the fuck happened here?!" Speaks a man most certainly in his late thirties as he sets something on the ground, "Who's this bitch?"

Ava's expression shifts to fear as you let out a tired sigh, eyes set to the man you know as Jed, "An old friend." ——

Crouched down by a river, you rub off flecks of blood that dissipate into the murky water like forgotten memories. You just wanted to eat and rest a while as you gathered your thoughts. But here you are, you've killed two humans and have damaged a couple busses in the process of it all. Not to mention that one car the other night...at least that man kept his life.

This realm is complicated and busy, there's not enough wilderness to hide in and there are certainly too many prying eyes that can catch you with their small square devices easier then you'd like. Thankfully Ava had not seen your rampage on the internet so she wasn't able to instantly recognize you. Then again you weren't wearing your armor.

However your eye color certainly doesn't aid you in finding a way into the city close by, that's still too far for your liking, people will undoubtedly stare. At this point you don't trust a single soul, and anyone close enough to see your face would most likely report you to the authorities in an instant.

Your goal has been thwarted one too many times and that shit does not fly with you one bit. Find the Ancient One, have her open a portal to your realm, and from there kick your brothers ass. It's all very simple, well at least it should be. Stupid Midgardians.

Hrrrrr Hrrrrrrrr! A loud horn blares from within the woods to your back right, twisting around and standing at attention, your fists emit flame when a huge lumbering mass of metal rolls through the trees practically making the ground shake.

It sounds like a tiny thunderstorm, you've never seen anything like it except for when you where in Norway but that vehicle was significantly smaller and less loud. "God this place is insufferable." You mutter, annoyed by the less then peaceful atmosphere of Midgard.

So far you've evaded the watchful eyes of the Avengers for the past three days and have gotten nowhere on your quest for vengeance. And now this thing just adds to your stirred up pot of frustration.

Taking a breath, you decide to wander through the trees until you've found the tracks where that metal vessel was drawing its power from, oddly enough the steel bars attached to plates of wood does not give off energy. Strange.

Figuring it must be the vehicle itself, you sway your mind from pondering the idea as your thoughts drift to that of home and the necklace hidden around your neck. This valued object was your dying mother's, a heirloom of your linage, and a damn powerful piece of jewelry.

But your brother and his wicked ideas, he wanted to use it for his grant thoughts of tyranny and power over the nine realms. A fool, no one could ever claim such a feat, no place needs rules like such from one being calling all the shots. It's madness.

It's insane.

Shaking your head, you keep following down the tracks as you listen to the sounds of cars in the far off distance. Birds chirp and flutter by while minding their business in the forest, although you could have sworn you heard a soft thud in the dirt behind you. A shuffle of stones maybe?

A deer perhaps? No, this is no deer; halting your trek to the city, you place your hands upon your hips before slowly turning around, "I'd expected as much. You are a clever man after all....Bucky."

The dark haired man greets you with a shy grin as he stands there off to the side of the tracks, dressed in casual attire like that when you saw him in Norway. He seems genuinely happy to see you, "I wish I could stay away." Replies Bucky in a playful tone, "But you've killed two human traffickers and I gotta make sure you don't hurt anyone else. Even if they deserve it."

You scoff, "I could end your life right now if I wanted to, kill all your friends next and then burn this world to ash and dust trying to get what I want. No matter the cowards I've killed."

He shrugs, "That sounds harsh. I'd rather you didn't actually, kinda like being alive." He's such a smartass in the best way, yet you hold back a smile to keep your noble aurora about you.

"Fair point I suppose. This Earth may be greatly flawed, but I have no qualms with the people here but that of my own business."

"Right. Your own business, finding the Ancient One and dealing with your brother and all that stuff." Nods Bucky, "Y/N, you know we could help you..."

"I don't need it! I'll find my way through this planet myself. Alone!" You shout, causing the trees to creak and moan from a surplus of wind that blows Bucky's hair about. He knows what you're capable of, but he has to try and persuade you anyways.

He looks almost apprehensive to approach you, "Y/N please. I know we all got off on the wrong foot, probably by a lot. But my friends are good people, we want to help you find what you're looking for. I promise you that." Says Bucky with a pleading look, "No lies. I promise."

You give him a conflicted glare as you think of your options; he found you somehow, he legitimately wants to help, and you desperately need a way off this damn planet. Maybe they do know a way, maybe they'll actually be able to help you, maybe Bucky is truthful?

He goes to take a step forward when you throw a hand out, "Stop." He keeps still as you take a breath, "Bucky, you give me your word?"

"I do."

"Promise!"

Raising his hands up, he gives you a sincere look, "I promise Y/N."

Taking a long moment to think over his words, you finally nod, "Good." He watches as you walk across the tracks until you're within a couple feet of him, he swallows, unsure if you might have just lied and are about to set him on fire. Instead he's relieved when you gift him a tight lipped grin, "Fine then, let us leave this place."

"Awesome.....yeah, okay good...well I'm parked back that way. We can just walk on the tracks instead of through the woods. Easier that way." He takes a couple steps back the way you came, when you don't move does Bucky stop and reach a hand out for you to take, "I'm not going to hurt you Y/N, I promised I'd help you remember?"

"I haven't forgotten." You quickly answer him.

"Good because I intend to keep it." He smiles softly, beautiful stormy blues focused all on you with a gloved hand ready for you to take.

You shake your head before walking past him, "Fine but I'm not shaking your hand."

Bucky chuckles to himself as he watches you practically swagger down the side of the tracks away from him. Quickly does he break from his staring trance to jog over to your side. The two of you walk for a little ways in complete silence until you glance over at him when your curiosity gets the better of you. There's just one tiny question you still need answered, "Well, how'd you find me?"

Bucky holds back a grin, "Your pocket." He points down towards your jackets pocket. Giving him a look of confusion, you reach down and feel inside for whatever he's on about, suddenly your fingers touch something round and metal attached to the inside wall.

Taking a hold of this odd device, you tug it loose before bringing your hand into the open, "What the hell is this?" You ask.

Bucky reaches out to take the object from you, he holds it up, "This. Is a tracker."

"That thing? It's like a thick coin, how does it manage to do such a feat?"

"Technology, radio waves. It's not my design, but with it I was able to follow where you went. Granted you're more elusive with your traveling then I'd first realized, but it did it's job...and now I'm here."

"Yes, now you're here. Maybe you really are braver then I first thought, or just a plain fool. I could have stuck to my word and killed you." You snap your fingers, "Just like that."

He chuckles, "I had a feeling you wouldn't."

"Oh really? What made you assume I would be merciful?"

"When we met for the first time in Norway, and later at the base. You didn't hurt me, well I guess I should say you didn't try and squeeze the life out of me. Or set me on fire.."

"I set your jacket on fire." You point out as he smiles.

"You did. I liked that jacket too." Muses Bucky, "Still, you let me live both times. Even let my friends live too, Y/N, I don't think you're so bad at all."

You hum in thought, "Your words are kind and humbling. But I do not feel worthy of such claims." He has no idea who you are, what you've done. So much he doesn't know.

Bucky frowns, "Why not?"

"I have done nothing but add more chaos to this realm with my existence here, I have been betrayed and for that I was filled with rage taken out on innocent people living their lives. I want to be worthy of what you say I am, but I am not." His heart hurts at your valiantly honest words, if only he could understand completely.

"Believe me Y/N, you aren't nearly as bad as you think you are. There's been way worse people throughout history here before you ever showed up."

"I believe your words though my personal occurrence's chance to lessen these people compared to what I have done centuries ago. Do not misinterpret all of what I speak, I understand there are always beings harming others for their own sick pleasure, however I did not frighten for enjoyment. Quite the opposite."

He could just about give up his metal arm forever just to know what the hell you're talking about. What kind of life did you live before all of this? Bucky soon takes out a small square device with his one gloved hand, "I trust your word on that. And hopefully we're able to help you...I just gotta get us a ride out of here first." He turns on a black screen and slides his finger across to unlock, "I have where I parked pin pointed via another tracker."

"You don't recall where you've come from?"

"Yeah, I mean no..no, I do remember the direction I came in, it's just I was running so fast to find you I forget exactly where my car is. Don't worry this will only take a moment."

Holding back a grin at the way he muddles around on that screen of his, you divert your gaze elsewhere to look around at the trees and other various greenery spread about as usual on a planet such as this one. It's fascinating, almost like that of your home world in Vanaheim. How you miss that place. The vast mountains spread throughout the landscape, huge lumbering trees taller then the cellphone towers you've passed, and great skies of blue where dragons fly at will.

Suddenly a stick cracks in the trees to your right, you turn while Bucky pays little attention, a crow flies out and into the blue sky it goes. Easy now, just a bird, nothing more. The wind picks up for a second and you can almost catch the scent of sulfur when a ball of fire erupts from the trees ready to kill.

The spherical flame screams towards you and Bucky, who's by now dropped his phone onto the tracks, "Y/N watch out!" He shouts fearfully, hand gripping onto your shoulder as you keep a strong fearless stance to the approaching flame.

Throwing a hand out, you divert the ball into the gravel where it bursts like a small firework, rocks flying everywhere as you stand at the ready for whatever happens next. "Y/N! What the hell was that!" Shouts Bucky.

"A scout. I think one of my brother's loyalists found me."

"A scou..." Another ball of flame soars towards the two of you and then another right behind it as you maneuver your body to deflect each of them in quick succession when out of the scorched trees does a smirking woman reveal herself. Her smile is proud and wicked, taller then Bucky she stands and impeccably strong she appears.

She wears armor closely resembling your own, but instead of blues, silver, and white. Her armor is black and red, silver replaced with shimmering obsidian as she walks into the evening light. Her eyes flicker gold like your own, she tilts her head at you, "Princess Y/N of Vanaheim. An honor to meet you, truly." She bows with mockery, you immediately despise her.

"What dog is this who speaks to me?"

She grimaces, "Aüla, master of flame, Phoenix of Vanaheim, I am here to bring what stolen jewelry lays upon your neck. What belongs to King Leyondros." She points a sharp nailed finger to your neck, "That, is a house Lavpranthus family heirloom."

"You think I was born yesterday? That incompetent tyrant who dare claim himself as king does not deserve what treasure I possess. He is barely a brother to me now, and you, what business do you serve?"

She smirks, gifting Bucky with a wink as she wiggles her fingers with flame, "He's sent his best out to find your whereabouts since he's exiled you. I just happened to be lucky enough to land on Midgard where wouldn't you know it, here keeps the banished Princess herself. I couldn't be more fortunate." She opens up her palm like a needy child, "Now Y/N, the object I so desire."

"You will die trying."

She holds up a threatening fist of hot flame, "I will be bathed in riches! I will be loved! King Leyondros will welcome his champion with open arms as I present him with the necklace stolen by his traitor sister! With grand tidings of her annihilation!"

You share a dark look with Aüle as you step in front of Bucky, "I do not care to know what bargaining from the beasts of this realm you made to find me. And I certainly do not care for the false promises my brother has warped into your mind, you cannot take my life and you cannot have this necklace."

She calls flame into both hands, "Then I'll take it off your burnt corpse!" She thrusts her hands forward causing a burst of hot orange flames to shoot like dragon fire straight for yourself and Bucky.

Anticipating this action, you create a wall of your own fire that shatters her advances, you turn to the wide eyed brunette, "Bucky forgive me for not handling this sooner. I hadn't realized she was here."

"It's fine." Mumbles Bucky, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he stares fearfully at the angry woman spewing fire at you still.

Focused back on Aüla, she suddenly begins creating whips of flame that crack and slash at the air. She throws a whip towards Bucky but you're able to deflect it easily, in retaliation of her advances, you thrust a burst of dusty wind knocking her backwards.

She tumbles across the gravel like a discarded sack of potatoes, jumping gracefully down from the high point of the tracks, you land nearby this hellfire spawn who staggers to her feet. Rubbing the dust from out of her eyes, she coughs, "Foul play Princess, I should have guessed you'd cheap shot."

"You still believe you're leaving here with my necklace?"

Leaving her charcoal stained eyes be, she opens her palms to flame, "Well I certainly don't intend on perishing at your hand. I will get what I came for."

You throw a quizzical look, is she insane? Not wanting to ponder her mental stability, you use the gravel to crawl it up to her knees where it fuses and roots itself into the ground, she flails her arms trying to regain balance. Angered by this, Aüla clenches her fists, tightly hugging them to her chest as she concentrates.

A small orange glow emits from the center of her chest before she screams while opening her arms to the sky and with that her whole body erupts with flame like that of a Phoenix reborn. Tree branches and leaves alike are burnt and singed nearby while her anchor is melted. Aüla levitates freely now, body a mass of hot flames as she stares furiously down at you with eyes of black charcoal.

"Behold the Phoenix! Now you will obey by law of the one true king!" Fire is thrown like thin arrows towards your face, again, easily deflected into the gravel below.

She chuckles darkly, thrusting a hand of intense flame that causes you to fall backwards across the ground. Pushing yourself up by the pads of your hands, she takes this vulnerable moment to race after Bucky with wings of fire.

Face contorted like a melted candle, her arms open wide as she prepares to embrace Bucky to the flames. Jumping up, you bend your arms, moving them in opposite directions on a linear path to conjure some type of protection. Aüla slams into an enchanted force field of dark blues that sends her flailing backwards like a bursting firework.

Regaining her balance, she levitates, scowling in disgust, "You? Would protect this mortal man?"

Your gaze falls onto Bucky, he's standing there, expression fearful and wide as he looks at you desperately. You take a step forward, "I will."

"But why? He is nothing compared to you, to us, he's simply an insect on a leaf."

"He is someone who has showed me more kindness in the last couple days then some of my own people have in the past hundred years!" You shout furiously before using your magic to paralyze her like you did with Wanda and Vision.

She struggles to move but all efforts are unfruitful, "Do not! Don't. You. Dare!" She screams as you take another fearless step towards her, raising your hands in a beautiful fluid motion, her obsidian irises flash with terror.

"Aüla, Phoenix of Vanaheim, I admire your efforts and valor. But I am not so merciful when my life as been threatened, as someone of these nine realms with some type of authority still. I, Y/N Lavpranthus of Vanaheim, condemn you to die." Your golden eyes flash with a noble flair of judgment while your hands sway like subtle waves on a beach.

"No. No. Nooo..." Her screams are eradicated when a burst of water consumes her entire vessel, she sizzles and smokes as you draw the river water away to reveal nothing but discarded broken armor. She never even noticed you were doing this.

As a plethora of water dissipates into steam from where she once stood, more liquid fills through the cracks in the gravel while you slowly wander over to the dark spot stained onto the center tracks. Kneeling down, you pick up an obsidian gauntlet cracked down the middle curve. "Who was that?" Asks Bucky from behind you.

"One of my brothers scouts. His best fire-bender.." You study the intricate markings that dance like vines around the metalwork, "..a phoenix in human form."

There is a long pause before he asks, "Why are you being hunted Y/N?"

You sigh, head bowed to the earth, "It's a long story."

Bucky frowns down at you, he's not sure what to do, but he knows you're deeply troubled by whatever events have led you to this point. A comforting hand rests upon your shoulder, "You don't have to tell me now. But I think we should go."

Dropping the broken gauntlet onto the dark stained wood, you stand, "Perhaps you're right. Who knows what else lurks in the shadows waiting to pounce. I'd rather not have you injured on my behalf."

Bucky shares a lopsided grin, "Appreciated. Now come on, I know the way home." Directs Bucky as the two of you begin walking down the tracks for wherever he speaks of.

Maybe these people aren't as bad as you'd first thought, unfortunately there are still evils that are desperate to find you. Until that time comes again.

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71 @noragracebrewer @atomicpersonacheesecake @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #series #bucky barnes series #my work

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a-friendly-fangirl · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Sex Education, season 3.

⚠️⚠️⚠️SPOILERS⚠️⚠️⚠️

First of all, please try to remember that this is just my opinion. I'm nobody to judge whether the season was good or bad and I don't mean to hurt anyone.

With that being said, I'd like to begin by admitting that I liked these 8 episodes overall... but there were so many things that felt wrong to me.

I loved Jean's journey during her pregnancy and the way she tried to take care of everyone at the same time (although I kind of disliked Jakob for some things he said).

I loved Aimee and her desire to heal after the assault. The way she really wants to make her voice be heard was heartwarming and inspiring to me. Plus, her friendship with Maeve is one of the most beautiful I've ever watched (about this, I'll say something later on).

I loved Viv and her ambition that slowly became less important than her peers and their rights. She really wanted them to be happy in the end. I think that she didn't really understand how bad things with Hope were until the trip to France. And she redeemed herself in a great way.

I loved Lily and her journey towards acceptance of herself, even when others thought she was weird and silly. It was empowering seeing her so confident in the end.

I loved Adam's growth. It taught that even the most simple of passions can turn into something meaningful and that, no matter how bad you are, you can change.

Above all, I loved Maeve finally getting the chance to do something amazing for herself for once.

All of these things were wonderful, truly. But so many others I didn't like and I couldn't really understand as narrative choices.

Let me begin with the one I found the most annoying: Isaac's fake redemption arc. I know what you might say: "Of course you hate it! You ship Maeve and Otis!". Well, yes, I do. But it's not all about that. I might be exaggerating... but Isaac deleting Otis' message was beyond disrespectful to me. If you remember, at the beginning of the second season, Isaac was really mean to Maeve... but he had the opportunity to redeem himself. He had the chance to say he was sorry and to be a better person to her, even though he had been around for so little time. However, when it came to Otis to have the same opportunity, he decided that he wasn't worth it. Isaac, who didn't really know Otis, took away from him the chance to at least say that he was truly sorry for being such an ass to Maeve. But, what feels even worse to me is that he took away even Maeve's possibility to decide. We don't know how it would have gone, if Maeve had listen to what Otis had to say. Maybe she would have forgiven him. Maybe she would have still chosen Isaac, because Otis hurt her too much. Who knows what might have been? No one. And why? Because Isaac decided for everyone. And I don't care if he thought he was protecting Maeve or if he was angry. It. Was. Not. His. Choice. To. Make.

Also, I didn't really understand why Maeve wasn't as mad as I was with him. Sure, she stopped talking to him for a couple of days. But the moment she started to speak with him again, they hooked up. Too fast, too soon, in my opinion. He apologised? Sure. But so did Otis. And he didn't get to be so easily forgiven.

But let's move to the another point I have a lot to say about: Otis and Ruby. I really liked them together. I found them cute and funny. But still... Ruby struggled for real to accept Otis for who he is. And Otis acted the way she wanted to keep her close. For example, he shaved off his moustache for her. Now, most of the fandom hated that moustache... but again, Otis seemed to care a great deal for it. He kept repeating that he spent months growing it. But Ruby didn't like it. And he sacrificed something he was proud of for her. But okay, a lot of people would do something like that for their loved ones. But then he had to dress like her friends to fit in. To be fair, Ruby gave up that idea pretty soon... but she just reacted to Otis refusing to do it. If I had to make a comparison between her and another love interest (not Maeve, 'cause I'd be biased), I'd choose Ola, of course. She was putting pressure on him in other ways, but she never wanted him to be any different than who he was. Love, after all, means acceptance. And perhaps Ruby loved Otis for he saw the hardest part of her life, without judging her. I wish it could have been the same for him.

About this, I've noticed many people being disappointed in Otis not saying he loved her too, because it means that he was just using her. Well... no? I mean, he was the first one to admit that, if she was willing to give him more time, he might have learned to love her. Should he have made it clear to her earlier in the relationship? Sure! Can we condemn him for not feeling the same? Absolutely not! Feelings can't be forced. And I'm also sure that he thought he was done for good with Maeve. He suffocated the love he had for her so much that the clinic made him sick and that he admitted his feelings only when pressured by Maeve herself.

In conclusion, I think that Otis and Ruby might have had a wonderful friendship, if they were only given the chance. They have that kind of chemistry.

Talking about people who are better off as friends: in my opinion, that's all Maeve and Aimee will ever be. I honestly can't see anything romantic in them. The purity of their friendship means so much to me and it's, at least for me, so different from the "Friends who are more than friends" energy. We're so lucky to have such wonderful actresses to play these characters... and what I see in their gestures and glances tells me of a great friendship. They're so different from Emily and Sue in Dickinson (they're supposed to be just friends, but they're clearly not) or even Judy and Jen in Dead To Me (another pair of friends that can be ambiguous with each other).

Moving to another couple, whose development I didn't understand: Adam and Eric. I'm not a great fan of their relationship. I like them both as individuals. But the bully-victim dynamic they used to have wasn't the best one to start a relationship with. I could see the appeal though. So much that, I was truly happy for them, when they said their first I love you's. And every step Adam made in the right direction made me smile, since that it took him a long time to grow up. Eric seemed happy with him too. Until he went to Nigeria. I sincerely loved the whole trip... but something felt wrong in him founding what he truly wanted there, where he couldn't even tell his family he had a boyfriend. The scene in the taxi gave me chills. I felt the risk he was taking by going with a stranger to a gay club. A stranger that he kissed almost out of nowhere (whether it was the heat of the moment or Adam not replying to him, I'm not sure). It's the second time he cheats on his boyfriend. And I think Eric deserves far better as a character.

My question about this whole drama is: "How come Eric found out that he wanted to be free in Nigeria and not in England?". If it's true that going to the club made him realise he wanted to be among people like him, it makes the whole situation even more absurd. Because there are plenty of gay bars and clubs in England. Why not go to one of them? My theory is that they wanted to build a good romance with Adam, then build tension between them and in us and end the whole thing with their breakup (probably to make Adam fall in love with Rahim).

I swear I'm almost done. I want to discuss one last topic with you all.

Maeve going to America like that felt so rushed. It's probably another strategy to make us want to see more of the show. And it surely worked. But still, it has, at least for how they developed it, nothing to do with Maeve maturing. The idea itself was amazing. I loved her getting the opportunity of a lifetime. But she literally decides to go the evening before (which is not even realistic. In real life, you have a deadline until which you can pay to go wherever you want. If you don't, your place is given to someone else), after getting the money from her mother. Now, where does that money come from? She might as well have stolen it, since she didn't have it before. In my opinion, this part of the story could have gone differently with little effort and the same outcome. How? Well, since that basically everyone thought she deserved to go to America, why couldn't have her classmates and teachers organised a fundraiser? Even in secret, so that she couldn't get angry for their "charity". It would have been so much better and so wholesome to see everyone in that school give a little sum for her, even to thank her for the help they got from the clinic.

Anyway, I'm so sorry for talking so much, but this season didn't go as expected and I truly needed to vent :P.

Thank you for listening❤

#sex education #sex ed netflix #sex ed #sex ed s3 #maeve x otis #otis milburn #otis x maeve #maeve wiley #jean milburn #ola nyman #isaac goodwin #ruby matthews #eric effiong #adam groff #asa butterfield #emma mackey #ncuti gatwa

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

Happiness [Maxwell Lorenzano x f!Reader]

Author’s note: Please heed warnings before you read. This is angst. There’s a little fluff and a few spicy moments, but at its core, this is a pretty angsty read. It’s a different interpretation of Maxwell, post WW84. Reblogs are so appreciated. I worked really hard on this and it’s not showing up in tags so if you could reblog it... it would literally mean the world to me :( <3

Summary: After the dreamstone debacle, Maxwell Lord loses custody of his son, his home, his job and all his wealth. He has nothing, and what was once the simple task of ‘living’, is suddenly proving to be extremely difficult. Until a beacon of light enters his life. He can only hope that you don’t find out who he really is.

Word count: 4000+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: depression/suicidal thoughts, PSTD/trauma implications, poverty, starvation, binge eating, allusions to sex, male masturbation, food and drink mention.

Masterlist

Max is usually pretty good at keeping himself to himself, but when he hears the commotion from outside his small shanty apartment, he cautiously stalks towards the front door and leans into the wood, gazing out the peephole. He spots you, struggling to unlock the door located on the far side of the hall. Your arms are filled with brown paper bags and an abundance of cardboard boxes circle around your feet. He hears you curse as you drop one of the paper bags. It rips, and groceries spill onto the floor with a clatter. He swallows thickly, feeling his tummy grumble at the sight of fresh fruit and colourful veg. Max hadn’t eaten a single meal this week.

He spends a few more seconds watching you struggle, before the guilt swarms over him and he feels like a creep. He does wonder if he should leave his apartment and help you out though, but eventually he decides on turning his heel and walks back to the torn leather sofa. He just knows he’ll be some kind of intrusion on you. If Max has learned one thing, it’s that he needs to stay away from other people. Otherwise, he’d just hurt them. Even if hurting them was the last thing he intended to do.

Still, he finds himself marvelling over you. He wants to go over and introduce himself. He thinks you’re absolutely stunning. Maybe it’s just because he hasn’t seen a woman (other than his ex-wife) in just short of a year, or maybe it’s something more genuine -- like the way you wear your hair or that glimmer in your eye. Once upon a time, Maxwell would’ve strolled on over to your apartment with the utmost confidence and charm, with the sole intention of winning you over and taking you back to his place. He wouldn’t dare do that now.

He stares at the wall clock, and watches as the minute leg ticks. It’s painfully slow. It’s 5:52pm, and Maxwell is just waiting until 6pm, because he knows at 6pm he can call his son, Alistair. If he tries calling a second earlier though, he is certain his ex-wife will throw a rage, claiming that he’s breaking court order. Maxwell had never been one to follow rules, but now, he didn’t have much of a choice. As he waits for the leg to strike 6, all he can really do is think about you. Truth be told, he hates that he’s thinking about you this much. He doesn't even know you.

But you’re so pretty. Your features are soft and delicate. Your clothes fit you perfectly and hug your body in all the right places. He can’t help but think what you sound like. He wonders if you’re from around here. He wonders why you moved into this particular neighbourhood, out of all the other neighbourhoods in rural D.C. He should go over and say hello at least. It would be the polite thing to do. He considers bringing over a bottle of wine to make a peace offering, but then he remembers all he has in his refrigerator is a stick of butter and a bottle of milk that has grown old and fermented. He assumes that you probably wouldn’t care for such housewarming gifts.

Maxwell calls Alistair as soon as the clock turns six. As always, Alistair is more than excited to speak to his dad, beaming brightly down the line. Alistair tells Maxwell about his step-father, and how he’d built a pool in their back garden for Ali and his mom. Max’s lips curl into a frown when he realises that his ex’s new husband is giving Alistair everything Max couldn’t. And once again, Maxwell feels like he has failed as a father.

For a short while, Alistair babbles about his day at school and how he got full marks on a pop quiz. Maxwell is as proud as punch. He has no doubt that success will one day find Alistair, he just hopes Alistair has an easier time handling it. Max can hear a faint yelling in the background of the phone call and eventually Alistair is interrupted.

“Oh-- mommy is calling me to eat dinner.” Alistair says softly, his voice suddenly growing oddly timid. Max’s stomach grumbles again at the mention of dinner.

“But we still have ten minutes left of our phone call.” Max replies matter-of-factly. He hopes Alistair can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. This isn’t his fault. He hears his ex yell again and Max can’t help but feel his face harden with disdain.

“I know, I’m sorry daddy, but I have to go.” The croak in Alistair’s voice is enough to break Maxwell’s heart. He wishes this could’ve been different. It should’ve been different.

Max knows he can’t argue though. It’s only futile. So he accepts the fact that Alistair has to leave the phone call early -- at least he was getting something to eat. Maxwell remembers when he was Alistair’s age. His mom always struggled to put food on the table because his dad would spend all the money on drinks at the local bar. Maxwell is just grateful his son isn’t starving.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Maxwell reassures before taking a shaky exhale. “I love y--”

But then, the line went dead. Max assumes that Alistair’s mom has ripped the phone from his hand and hung up. Sighing, Maxwell forces himself to stand up and walk on over to his bedroom. The bed is unmade and there are several piles of dirty laundry all over the floor. He jams open the sticky window and climbs onto the balcony, inhaling the cool evening air and lighting a cigarette. Smoking was a habit he’d gotten himself into when he was much younger, but he’d grown out of it when he’d hit limelight. Now though, it was growing back in to be a shameful addiction that he just couldn’t shake. It helped him stop feeling hunger, though.

As he flicks the orange lit ash over the edge of the balcony, his eyes catch on you again. You are standing on the street, talking to some guy. You’re laughing, and it looks like this mystery man’s hand is caressing your arm. It’s probably your boyfriend; Maxwell assumes, and the pang of jealousy in his chest turns into unadulterated sadness as he realises he was probably never going to find love again. He peers over the edge of the balcony once more as he takes a final drag of the cigarette, and he wonders if the jump would kill him.

Maxwell’s eyes begin to sting, and he climbs back into his bedroom, knocking his head on the window pane in the process.

He can’t sleep that night, and he tosses and turns in his three quarter sized bed. He could feel every spring in his mattress. What he would give to just sleep one more night in the soft, plush king sized bed he used to take for granted. He switched on his amber tinged bedside lamp and swatted away a moth that flew towards it. Maxwell stared at the ceiling and wondered if the damp had gotten worse. Even if it had, it wasn’t like Max had the courage to bring it up with the landlord.

He finds himself thinking about you again. He lived to see the way you smiled when you spoke to that guy, or the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the evening breeze. Max wraps his hand around his semi-hard cock and begins to jerk himself off. To nobody’s surprise though, he doesn’t finish -- the overwhelming feeling of revolt consuming him. He thinks he’s disgusting, and that nobody would ever want to touch him. He can’t even stand touching himself.

He falls asleep not long after that.

Max once had a pretty decent sleep schedule, going to bed at 10 and waking up at 6. But now he was up until the early hours of the morning, overthinking and hating himself. He wakes up three or four times a night from the same recurring nightmare. It’s a replay from the clear night of July ‘84, when he took over everyone’s TV screens. His doctor prescribed him therapy for it, which would probably help, but Maxwell just can’t afford it.

He wakes up to the sound of a bang on his front door. Max scrambles to his feet in a panic, checking the time on his alarm clock. It’s 2pm. And the person at the door could easily be his landlord, finally having enough and kicking him out. Max’s rent is two months overdue.

But it’s not his unforgiving landlord. It’s you. And you’re holding a fruit basket.

“Hey neighbour!” you smile pleasantly before introducing yourself to him. “I just moved in across the hall. I wasn’t sure what you’d like… but I figured everyone likes fruit!”

Maxwell stays quiet, standing there in complete disbelief. No one has shown him this amount of kindness in so long…

The prolonged silence makes you feel a little strange. He still hasn’t accepted the fruit basket, nor had he said anything. He was just… staring at you. It wasn’t a slimy gawk. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what his dark eyes were trying to tell you.

“—I’m sorry,” you continue eventually when he doesn’t speak, dropping the fruit basket by your side and turning away. “I uh— would you like me to get you something else?”

Maxwell’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “No!” he exclaims, opening his front door wider and taking the fruit basket from you. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I uh— I love fruit.”

You smile at his fluster, and you swear you notice a rosy pink blush cross his cheeks. It’s adorable.

“Oh okay, that’s good then.”

Maxwell prays you can’t hear his stomach grumble at the sight of the fresh fruit. He’s so excited to eat it all. “How can I repay you?”

You raise your eyebrows at his proposition and chuckle awkwardly. “Repay me? No no,” you laugh. “It’s just a fruit basket,”

It wasn’t just a fruit basket though. It was the only food Max had.

“I mean, you could tell me your name.”

Maxwell curses, realising he hasn’t even introduced himself. Gods— he wonders when exactly he’d lost his charm.

“Right, I’m sorry. I’m Max.” He extends his arm and offers you a handshake. You giggle, but accept.

He feels a bolt of electricity run up his arm when your fingers interlink with his, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Very formal Max,” you acknowledge with a smile.

Maxwell genuinely hasn’t communicated with anyone since July 1984. It’s probably about time he ditches the businessman persona, although he doesn’t realise he still uses it from time to time. Old habits die hard.

“I must say, I feel like I recognise you from somewhere.”

“No. You don’t.” Maxwell quickly snaps back and you’re afraid you struck a nerve.

There’s a longer silence and you find yourself wondering about your neighbour. He’s right in front of you and yet you can’t help but feel as though he’s some kind of enigma. Maybe it’s the crinkles in the corner of his eyes or his wry smile.

“Um…” you mumble, your gaze trailing behind him as you try and peer into his apartment. You can’t see much though. From where you stand it looks very empty… and brown. “If you weren’t busy tonight maybe you could come over and we could get to know each other. I uh-- don’t have many friends yet.” you explain shyly, nervously biting your lip.

You didn’t usually get nervous talking to new people, but there was just something about Maxwell that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His presence made butterflies flutter in your tummy and your hands feel clammy with excitement… or maybe anticipation. He stares at you blankly before clearing his throat.

“I uh-- yeah I mean-- maybe,” Maxwell shrugs cooly. “If I’m not busy.”

Pft, busy. Max hasn’t been busy since the dreamstone debacle.

“Of course,” you nod your head and smile. “Well, you’re welcome to come on over anytime.”

And then, without thinking, Maxwell replies. “And you’re welcome to come over here anytime too.”

You feel your smile grow into a grin and you reach out, placing your hand on Max’s arm. “Okay, well, it was nice meeting you.” you bite your lip.

Max’s heart stops when you touch him, and for the first time, he doesn’t flinch away. You’re holding his bicep and… he likes it. It’s not sending him into a spur of anxiety, in fact, he feels better just for finally plucking the courage to talk to you. And now you’re touching him. You’re not repulsed or disgusted… in fact, you’re smiling. You look happy, and maybe Max is happy too. Maybe. Max doesn’t even realise the small smile that’s crept upon his lips.

“Nice meeting you too.” He swallows and you wave goodbye.

He watches you walk back into your apartment, drinking in your appearance. You were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt today. It was casual… but he liked it.

Even when he finally gets back into his apartment and slumps against his front door, he’s still smiling. This feeling is so unfamiliar.

Maxwell finds himself pondering whether or not he should visit you tonight. He so desperately wanted to see you again-- see your pretty face and sparkling eyes and that perfect smile. Maybe Max could have a friend. That would be nice.

But he quickly gets scared again. He knows immediately that you’re too good for him, and that he’ll only end up hurting you. And then he’ll be left alone again. Max doesn’t know if he can survive another heartbreak.

Once again, he lights a cigarette and sits on the balcony, and wonders if the jump will kill him.

Then he realises he suddenly doesn’t want to die. At least, not yet. He wants to see you again first.

Max doesn’t even bother finishing the cigarette. He taps away the ash and climbs back inside, stripping himself of his clothes and turning on the shower. If he was going to see you tonight, he’d at least make the effort.

The soap he uses is from Dollar Tree, and it doesn’t really have a scent. It made a change from his favourite Jo Malone pomegranate fragranced soap, that’s for sure. He gets annoyed trying to squirt out the very little remenints of his shampoo bottle. Although he doesn’t have much, he’s satisfied when he comes out of the shower. He feels clean and fresh.

Maxwell rakes through his tiny collapsing wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that will make him appear somewhat presentable. He’s probably overthinking this whole thing -- after all, it isn’t exactly a date. But he still feels the strong inclination to impress you. He so desperately wants to be liked by you.

Most of his everyday wear is stained or ripped or very aged. But then he spots the small duffel bag at the bottom of his closet and he remembers he packed some of his old business wear when he moved out of his manor and into this apartment. He hadn’t looked in the duffel bag once since moving though, afraid that seeing the clothes would unleash some kind of trauma on him.

Max crosses his legs and hesitantly unzips the black bag. Inside, he finds a few fitted shirts, a few tailored pants, and one suit jacket. He even spots a belt and two patterned ties. He’s a little upset though when he can’t find the suspenders he used to wear. They were always his favourite part of his outfit.

Maxwell can’t bring himself to dress in the whole get up, but he does pick out a white button down shirt and grey pants. He tucks the shirt in, and wraps the belt through the loops in his pants, clicking it into place. Opting to look slightly more casual, Max leaves the first two buttons of his shirt undone and rolls the sleeves up to his elbows.

And for the first time in a long time, Max likes the way he looks. He wishes he had some cologne to spray, and he could definitely do with a haircut, but this is good enough.

He doesn’t want to seem desperate, so he does wait (albeit impatiently) until 8:30pm to see you. In the meantime, he eats over half of the fruit basket. He tells himself he’ll stop after an apple and an orange, but strangely enough. He can’t. He can’t stop. It just tastes so good and he’s so hungry -- so he eats until he feels sick. He wants to lie down because he really doesn’t feel too good at all, but he’s not going to pass up this opportunity to see you for anything. He feels a little cold, so he throws on his suit jacket which is grey in colour and matches the tailored pants. Max chokes down a glass of water, straightens up his posture, and knocks on your door.

He’s not waiting for long, and he’s delighted when he sees you answer the door. Your lips are painted a ruby red colour and you’re wearing your hair differently. Not only that, but you’d changed out of your sweater and jeans, and now you’re doting a knee length flowy dress. Your feet are slipped into some fuzzy looking slippers though, and Max admires the small diamond stud earrings that you don. They really bring out the colour of your eyes.

“I was hoping you’d come.” you reveal nervously, opening the door wider and looking your neighbour up and down. He looks so incredibly handsome in his change of outfit. Max feels himself blush under your gaze and he smiles.

“I just couldn’t pass this up.” he laughs nervously.

You move out the way and gesture for him to enter your apartment. Max notes that it’s roughly the same size as his, but it’s already filled with more furniture. Judging from the plentiful cardboard boxes in every corner, you hadn’t finished unpacking either. You find yourself watching Max as he takes in your front room. You take his jacket and hang it on your coat peg which stands by your front door. You definitely do recognise him from somewhere, especially seeing him in that shirt and those pants…

You shrug off your curiosity temporarily though, and take his hand, pulling him into your kitchen. Max loves the way your hand fits so perfectly into his. He doesn’t want you to pull away. And you don’t, until you reach the refrigerator.

“I have cranberry juice, tea, coffee-- no milk though, uh…” you trail off and check the cupboards. You beam when you see the bottle of champagne that your friend had gifted you. It was to celebrate moving out. You present him with it and grin. “Would you care to have a glass with me?”

Max remembers the distinct taste of the bubbles on his lips and he nods in agreement. You don’t have any fancy glasses, let alone flutes, so you pour the pale yellow liquid into two plastic tumblers. You hand one to Max and cradle your own in both of your hands.

“You should propose a toast.” you laugh jokingly.

Luckily, Maxwell has always been able to handle being put on the spot. He only takes a few seconds to come up with something.

“To new friends.” he announces with a charming smile, and clinks his cup against yours.

Max hasn’t had a drink in a long time, so it doesn’t take long for it to reside in his system and he begins to feel a bit tipsy. It’s not bad though. Maxwell is relaxed, and he’s comfortable. You bounce off each other and make each other laugh right up until the early hours of the morning. You bring out Monopoly and you’re surprised at how good he is at it. He gives you advice on buying properties and investments and it truly sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. You wonder what he does for a living.

“I didn’t say this earlier,” Max says as you pour out the last of the champagne. The alcohol has him buzzing with confidence. “But you look breathtaking, really. That dress and those earrings and your lips…”

And you don’t know what it is, but Max just makes you feel so good. “My lips?” you repeat breathlessly, gazing into his honeyed brown eyes.

Max nods wordlessly when you climb into his lap and straddle his hips. You place the palms of your hands flat against his chest and nudge your nose against his, giggling playfully. Max feels scared -- he’d never been this close to anyone in so long, let alone a beautiful woman like yourself.

Gods, he’s so handsome too. A small piece of his hair has fallen out of place and it crosses his forehead. You’re quick to brush it out of his face with your finger, and one of your hands cup his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of your touch, humming in contentment. When he opens his eyes again, they’re noticeably shades darker.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice low like it had dropped a few octaves.

You nod desperately and your lips crash against his.

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the adrenaline but he’s an amazing kisser -- perhaps the best you’ve ever had. You roll your hips over his lap and he moans, but doesn’t break the kiss once. His large hands roam around your back and squeeze at the soft flesh of your thighs. The Monopoly game has been long discarded now, leaving only you and Max revelling in each other’s touch.

You want more. You want him. You dip your hand in between your bodies and find his belt, trying your best to undo the buckle so you can get him out of his pants. You’re certain you can feel his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh, and you’d be right in thinking he wants this too.

But what he wants the most, is to not ruin things between you both, and Max feels like that maybe this is all happening a bit too fast. He doesn’t want to reject you, and he’s afraid of hurting you, but he’s also afraid of you getting so close to him -- that you find out who he truly is, and the things he does. He doesn’t want to lose you because you make him feel so happy. For the first time in potentially years, Maxwell feels genuine happiness. He doesn’t want to fuck up, not when he’s been doing so well.

So he pulls away from you breathlessly and moves your hands away from him. He holds them though, brushing his thumbs in comforting circles against your soft skin.

“I really like you,” he smiles. “And tonight has been… great. You have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed myself. But I-- I really want to see you again. And do this again. And have a good time with you. I just don’t think we should-- you know--” Maxwell tries to explain. He feels bad for rejecting you. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Because trust me,” he sighs, closing his brown eyes. “I really really do. But--”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I understand, and honestly, I think you’re probably right. I’ve had a good time too though.”

Maxwell can’t help but beam knowing that there’s no hard feelings between you both.

“So we can do this again?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes.” you reply, pressing a chaste yet sweet kiss to his lips.

You wiggle off his lap and Maxwell stands up. “I should head back home then,” he says. “It’s late. But maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I’d like that a lot.” you agree.

Max gives you one final kiss and part of you wants to ask him if he’d be willing to stay the night. You shake away the temptation and tell yourself there’d be plenty more opportunities for him to stay over. Before he leaves, you see him abruptly spin around on his heel and point his index finger towards you.

And your heart drops.

You freeze.

You think you can feel your blood run cold and the colour drain out of your face.

Because in that moment, when he points his finger at you, you recognise him.

You remember him.

You know who he is.

“I almost forgot my jacket.” Max laughs, sliding past you.

You feel like you can’t move though.

This was the man who single handedly almost destroyed the entire planet.

But how -- how could it be Maxwell Lord? He was so sweet and kind and funny. How could the man you just made out with, the man you shared a bottle of champagne with -- your own neighbour…

How could it be Maxwell Lord?

How hadn’t you noticed sooner. Hell, his name was literally Max Lorenzano.

“Goodnight.” Max tells you.

You try and force yourself to say it back but no words come out. Your throat feels dry and you’re panicking.

Max doesn’t even notice though. He’s too busy beaming with happiness when he leaves.

You aren’t sure if you’re going to see him again.

When Maxwell gets back home, he can’t rid himself of the grin that’s plastered across his lips. He sits out on the balcony and lights a cigarette, but this time, when he looks at the ground beneath you, he doesn’t wonder if the jump will kill him.

His eyebrows furrow together when he notices the florist across the road, and he wonders how much a bouquet of flowers will cost him. He wants to get you something; as a thank you for giving him a good time.

He simply can’t wait to see you again.

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor r @pedro-pastel l @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @beskarprincessjenny @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077 @dodgerandevans @planetariumx @pascals-cat t @ajeff855 @spideysimpossiblegirl @smoldjarin

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ww84

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squirrelno2 · 2 years

Text

Me at myself in the mirror at 3:50 in the afternoon one day: the thing about the sequel trilogy of star wars is that Finn was in the perfect position to be a foil to Kylo Ren and a hopeful spin on the character of Anakin Skywalker and the fact that nobody even noticed these parallels is a testament to the power of racism and the fact that bigotry actually makes you a worse writer

No but. Anakin’s out here with his introduction in the prequels as a slave, and it’s poorly done but implied that the pain and fear of that part of his life impacts how he interacts with… basically everything ever, and ultimately makes him susceptible to palpatine’s grooming; your mileage may vary on the ratio of canon to fanon in this interpretation but I think we can all agree being a slave from birth is gonna fuck a kid up and there’s a reason why George lucas chose this particular backstory for him.

So you’ve got Kylo Ren, eschewing a family that cares for him (please don’t talk to me about whatever the fuck was going on in those last jedi flashbacks first of all that’s bad writing babe and second, we’re talking solely about the expectations and possibilities established in force awakens because there’s not enough narrative or character consistency in the sequel trilogy to take. Anything as a whole there) in order to chase after this version of his grandfather that isn’t even the version he died as. Like! Whether you think Anakin/Vader achieved redemption or simply did one good thing at the end of his life, we all know that act of sacrifice on Luke’s behalf is. The definition of Star Wars. Vader choosing to do good in his last moments was what the original trilogy built towards and what the prequel trilogy always knew, and it’s this fucked up spectre over everything Kylo Ren says or does in Force Awakens because he’s out here pleading with the ghost of a man who is not real, he’s chasing Vader instead of Anakin Skywalker and ignoring the choices his own grandpa made in the name of… honouring him somehow???

And then there’s Finn. Finn who’s been raised since who knows when but definitely childhood given he has no name to remember to be a weapon for the First Order. Somehow I doubt they pay their stormtroopers, somehow I expect their education is more indoctrination than anything, somehow I doubt Finn was ever instilled with a sense that he as a person mattered – Finn’s a slave when we meet him. Unequivocally. And this man who’s known nothing else his entire life turns around and says “actually I think I will do good things or at least stop doing bad ones” and runs the fuck away, freeing himself. (and also Poe. Something something the act of saving others in turn saves you, this is my eternal soapbox but that’s not my point right now)

Finn is afraid, and very nearly runs away from the fight like “I’m safe so it doesn’t matter what happens to others” – when satisfied that Rey is safe (and under the impression that Poe is dead) he feels no strong compulsion to protect an ambiguous “rest of the galaxy” which honestly is exactly the vibes Anakin Skywalker has for pretty much all his life. Anakin would be a hero because the people he cared about wanted him to be. He fought for Padme and Obi-Wan and frigging Palpatine (and Ahsoka, I say, skipping outside the movies for a hot second because I love her) first and foremost, and the Jedi and the Republic because those were the causes his loved ones cared about. Finn has the opportunity to get away, to protect himself for the first time in his life, and he doesn’t have to worry about the few people he cares about so he very nearly goes for it.

Then the thing is, Finn, unlike Anakin, doesn’t let that fear rule him? He turns around and goes back for Rey, follows Poe, stays with the Resistance. He gets to be terrified but he also says that terror isn’t his only motivating factor, and that his self-interest matters less to him than the galaxy – a choice Anakin struggled to make until literally the end of his life.

In conclusion, if the sequel trilogy had stuck to its guns and been about the tragedy of history as a cycle and the way we cling to idealised pasts and torture ourselves over might-have-beens (and also how that inaction and obsession with history allows the rise of fascism bc we spend so much time patting ourselves on the back for defeating ‘the bad guy’ we ignore what gave the bad guy power) – if it had been a well written story Finn should have been a hopeful twist to the story of Darth Vader, a man who faced the same struggles as Anakin but made better, kinder choices, which would bring it nicely full circle considering George Lucas was like. Very into star wars as being about Vader

But nope we had to have whatever that poorly written racist tug-of-war was instead. I don’t know about you but I need better fandoms

#star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #finn #anakin skywalker #i'd tag this with kyle ron but i don't know how annoying the stans still are #it's been a hot second since i wandered into this corner of the sw fandom

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plume-pigmented-pili · 3 years

Text

Hey hey! here’s a little something I wrote for Eli a few months ago. They convinced me i should post it, so here i am lol

———

Tw: Descriptions of a Cold, sickness (non graphic), feelings unwanted, coughing, headaches, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort. Let me know if I need to add more!

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Prinxiety (Written as Romantic but could be read as platonic i guess)

“Virgil is miserable. Its the middle of the night, and Virgil is stuck in bed, unable to sleep, with a horrible cold. The actual cold isn’t why he’s miserable, though.

Is it selfish to want to be cared for?”

—

Through Sickness and Health

Virgil could hear the clock on the opposite wall ticking just a tad too fast, and didn’t need to even look over at it to know it was way too late to be awake. Sure, he didn’t have the best sleep schedule, but at least he was usually enjoying himself when he stayed up, and it was rarely this late. It wasn’t even his fault this time.

But here Virgil was, laying in bed curled under all the blankets he owned, wishing he was dead. On paper, that sounds a lot worse than it really was, but who could blame him? The sweet release of death sounded like heaven compared to suffering here any longer. His throat was sandpaper dry, nose clogged with snot, and what felt like a small bomb went off in his skull with every movement.

That, though, wasn’t the main reason he was suffering.

He’d been sick before, he knew it would be over soon, but no physical pain could compare to the hurt he felt, knowing that the others knew of his illness, and didn’t give a single damn.

There was no way they didn’t know what was happening - even if he’d tried to hide it, which he hadn’t, it’s not like acting was ever his specialty - but not a single one of them had batted an eye since he came down with this stress induced cold.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. Patton had asked if he was feeling alright on day two, when Virgil had shuffled downstairs around three in the afternoon to grab a snack, hoodie flipped up as he dug around, his hands clearly shaky from fever yet he’d been too tired to try and hide it. He’d told Patton, in the least shaky voice he could muster, that he just wasn’t feeling very well.

In hindsight, it had probably been incredibly selfish of him to expect Patton to come to his aid and comfort him, maybe offer to tuck him in on the couch and make him something healthy to eat. He’d seen Patton do just that plus more when Logan or Roman were feeling under the weather after all. But despite knowing it was selfish, he couldn’t help the disappointment and sinking feeling he’d felt when Patton had simply responded with a gentle, almost pitying, “I’m sorry kiddo, thank you for telling me.” before walking away rather hurriedly, leaving it there.

The conversation rolled around in his head, as it had been for the past 5 days. Nobody had come to check on him, not even the resident fatherly side to see if he was feeling any better. He’d been downstairs one other time since that little exchange with Patton, but when he’d walked in on Roman and Logan talking casually in the living room, they’d both given him short, obviously forced smiles, and sunk out. That’d been on day three, and Virgil hadn’t gone back down there since. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Maybe they didn’t want to get sick? Or maybe they thought he was gross, and didn’t want to be near him. Did they think he would be rude to them?

All this thinking was making Virgil’s head hurt more. And it really didn’t matter the reason. They didn’t care, they clearly wanted to avoid him.

It hurt, worse than his actual sickness, having to stay away from everyone for days on end. It reminded him of the old days before he was accepted, when he wasn’t welcome anywhere else but the confinement of his room. He missed Patton’s warm greeting each time he walked into a room, or the rants Logan would get lost in that were strangely so calming. Most notably, though, he missed Roman.

He missed their stupid banter that always left him feeling more confident, and the never ending singing that Virgil pretended not to adore. Hell, he missed just talking to the creative side. He’d give anything just to have a conversation with him, just to lift his spirits a little. He longed for one of the warm, solid hugs that only Roman could give.

He would probably even give up his Disney posters, his entire MCR song library, or get banned from every Hot Topic in the country, just to be held and cuddled right at this moment. To be held in warm, secure arms, wrapped in the scent of cinnamon and roses, and drift to sleep knowing he wouldn’t be alone in the morning.

That last one had about a zero percent chance of happening, even if he wasn’t sick and contagious, but Virgil’s sleep deprived, fever ridden brain had decided to be sentimental, and Virgil couldn’t even stop it. At least he wasn’t gone enough to consider asking for any of that comfort he craved. it’d be easier for everyone to just wait in his room until he was better. Then maybe things would be normal again.

And that was his plan, until someone knocked on his door.

The anxious side’s gaze shot over to the clock, grimacing when the quick movement made his eyeballs throb. Who the Hell was knocking on his door at nearly 3:45 in the morning?

“Who-“ Virgil cringed at how his gravely voice broke, cleared his throat, then tried again. “Who is it?”

“I knew you were awake!” Romans voice, surprisingly enough, came from the other side of the door. He was clearly trying to stay quiet, but for some reason, he sounded really… relieved, and chipper. A second later, the Prince added a bit more bashfully, “Uh, unless i just woke you up by knocking, and if that’s the case I sincerely apologize, I didn’t mea-“

“No, I w’s already awake…” Virgil interrupted with a slight slur, groggy brain trying to keep up with what was happening. Being the embodiment of Anxiety, though, meant he didn’t get to stop being anxious just because he was sick. Why was he here? Was he angry? Virgil couldn’t recall doing anything that could offend anyone since he’d been self-quarantined, but then again, he couldn’t really remember his last name at the moment either. He mumbled to himself as he untangled his legs from the covers, cursing the universe under his breath because his head felt two times it’s normal size. Then he took a deep breath and sat up. He didn’t want to make Roman uncomfortable or grossed out seeing him all sick in bed, cause holy shit would that be embarrassing. He still didn’t look great, but it was a small step. “Come in Pr’ncey.”

The door swung open, revealing a timid, bed headed Roman, who seemed to relax a little when noticing Virgil sitting up in bed. “Hey there.. sorry to barge in, I hope i’m not bothering you.” he said, voice still lowered and really quite gentle as he shut the door behind him.

Virgil went to shake his head, but stopped himself before he could cause himself fucking brain damage and just shrugged instead. “ y’re not both’ring me. ‘sup?” yikes, all this sitting up and trying to look presentable business was making him realize how exhausted he was. His eyelids felt heavy already.

Roman took a few steps forward, keeping his eyes steadily on Virgil like he was waiting for him to keel over and die, or cough on him. It seemed pretty damn dramatic, even for Roman. “I… just wanted to check on you. I’ve uh, been a little worried about you, and i couldn’t sleep.” The Prince said, hesitant as he lowered himself on the foot of the bed.

Virgil blinked a few times, curling his legs up so his knees were to his chest to make sure Roman wouldn’t touch his feet under the 5 layers of blankets he had over him. Or maybe it was the sudden, treacherous hope that was rising in him, a hope he was trying to stifle. Roman was… worried about him? Roman of all sides? I mean, he wasn’t surprised that he cared, he and Roman were friends now after all. Virgil was just surprised he cared about this. He thought they were all in agreement to avoid him or something.

Virgil was about to open his mouth and say… something - he didn’t really know what he was going to say. It felt like his train of thought was chugging along through molasses - but he was interrupted before he could get any words out.

“Dude… no offense, but you look like actual death. And why in the name of Hades are you buried under so many blankets?” The Prince asked with what sounded like genuine confusion, at least for the second part.

Virgil huffed and pulled the blankets tighter around him, the movement causing him to shiver. He couldn’t decide what to focus on; The cold air on his back, the rising sensation of relief knowing Roman cared, or how weird that question had been. Quite honestly, Virgil wasn’t offended because he knew he looked like shit. he was just a little confused. He thought Roman would have known he’d look like shit. “What do you mean why do I have so many blankets. I literally feel like ’m freezing to death. ’s part of the package, shouldn’t you know this?” He practically deadpanned, not even for the snarkiness like usual. His speech was just dull.

But that only left Roman looking more confused, and probably a good deal more concerned if his expression was anything to go by. “I-... I didn’t know that, no.. I’m sorry. Do you want another blanket or something…?” he asked carefully, still awfully and almost painfully cautious.

And Virgil… was at a loss for how this could possibly be new information to Roman. it was pretty common knowledge even if you’ve never had a fever before. But instead of dwelling, Virgil once again stopped himself from shaking his head, sighing instead. “No, it won’ help.” he said shortly. The effort would be futile, but it was endearing that Roman at least asked. “Thanks though. That’s.. really nice of you t’ offer.” The anxious side offered a bit more quietly.

There was an awkward silence that followed, Roman shuffling his feet against the carpet slightly as he looked around the room. Virgil saw the other’s eyes catch on the pile of used tissues in the floor, another bout of confusion flashing in his bright green eyes, but he didn’t mention it this time. Maybe it was a lack of sleep making the Prince act so clueless at the moment. “I… I guess i’ve just.. i don’t know, everything is more boring without you around. Nobody to insult without actually offending them.” Roman spoke again after a moment, sending a half smile in Virgil’s direction.

A little smirk matched with a snort is what the Prince was rewarded with, Virgil's spirits lifted regardless of his misery. It felt nice knowing he was missed, and it made his chest warm knowing it was coming from Roman. For some reason, knowing he could make things more bearable for his counterpart was.. rewarding, in a way. And Roman looked proud of himself, before he continued a bit more solemnly. “You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, like what, 5 says now?”

That got Virgil to sigh, and maybe there was some defensiveness laying beneath the surface, made worse thanks to being miserable, but all he managed was a mildly annoyed side eye to Roman as he responded in a mumble, still doing his best not to run Roman off. “‘t’s not my fault.”

Roman was quick to shake his head, slight guilt in his expression. “I know! I-I’m not trying to make you feel bad, i guess i just- i don’t know, i’m just talking out loud… sorry.” Roman’s voice had quieted, eyes trained on the floor somewhat shamefully as he seemed to search for his words. “I just.. I just wish…” but once again, he trailed off, shaking his head and seeming to give up. “I’m sorry.”

“‘s fine, Princey.” Virgil mumbled back, eyes dropping to his lap where he picked at a loose string on his bedspread. Another silence followed, Virgil trying to sniffle as silently as he could. Despite how weird this interaction had been so far, and how slightly awkward it’s gotten, Virgil was honestly just trying to soak in the mere presence of another side while it lasted. He’d never liked being alone for so long. His stomach was starting to hurt for a reason aside from sickness. This sure was a good way to get Roman to leave early, the others were probably right for leaving him alone so far.

Suddenly, Virgil squeezed the blankets in his fist to try and stop a sudden tickle in his throat, the sensation coming out of nowhere. Unfortunately though, his instincts won out just seconds later as he was forced to cough, the sound gargled and gross even when he covered the whole bottom half of his face with his covers. Dammit, dammit, stupid fucking cough. And Roman just got there too. He wasn’t ready for the creative side to leave again yet.

“S- Sorry, sorry ‘bout that. Shit.” He mumbled rather quickly, hoping to by just a few minutes longer of the creative side’s company before it was taken away again for who knows how long. His head felt like it was being split open, no thanks to the effort it took to cough. Who the Hell’s idea was sickness? They should be fired.

Much to his surprise though, when Virgil hesitantly looked up to gauge how put off Roman was by his display, he only saw an overwhelming about of worry, but even more importantly, alarm.

“Apologies, but is this like- normal??” Roman asked with eyes noticeably wider, studying Virgil's pained expression, hunched over posture, the mess of dirty tissues around, and the way the bright numbers of his digital clock on his nightstand was covered carefully, with a washcloth no doubt.

Virgil drew in a deep, slow breath through his nose as he rubbed on his temples to try and alleviate some pain, eyes closed and head tilted down. Roman’s ridiculous questions were just making his headache worse, and honestly he didn’t even understand how the Hell he was so confused. Was this his plan? To come in here and confuse Virgil and his already incapacitated brain? ‘Cause if so, he was doing a brilliant job. “Roman, what the hell are you talking about.”

It came out less like a question, more like a very tired statement, but he was answered with confused stammering, Roman gesturing almost desperately to Virgil and his state. “What do you mean what am I talking about?? Dude, you’re clearly not doing well. I mean, I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but you’re sweating like a sinner in church, you’re covered in a thousand blankets, you were just hacking up a lung and you’re barely able to speak right from, what i’m assuming, is a nose full of mucus!”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. I look like shit, Pr’ncey, enough said.” Virgil snapped, glaring up at Roman and accidentally moving his head up to look at him too fast, sending a flare of agony through his skull. He cursed under his breath and winced, but powered through it even as Roman lifted a hand to- to what, help? It didn’t matter, Virgil moved away from the effort. “No, don’t touch me, alright? I don’t wan’ your pity.”

Virgil knew all of this was coming out more aggressive than he ever would allow if he was feeling himself. Hell, even now he was begging himself to just shut up and stay calm. But after almost 2 full days with no sleep, and 5 days of nonstop pain, coughing, being unable to breath properly, the feeling of fire in his throat every time he tried to eat, and then on top of that, being shunned by the 3 people he wanted- needed, more than anything. Well, he really couldn’t stop his composure from cracking and shattering.

Roman looked ready to respond, seemingly struck with more pity than before, but Virgil’s hand shot up to stop him. “I don’t want to hear it, Princey. Why the Hell are you even here anyway? If you’ve missed me so much, why did you wait 5 f’cking days to come see me? T’ come ‘check on me’? And, by th’ way, so far you’ve really only been fucking with me and making me feel worse, so in reality it probably would ‘ve been better had you just kept up your streak of avoiding me like ev’ryone else!”

Virgil was breathing heavily, head pounding and lungs burning after raising his voice just a bit too much at the end of his rant. He replayed the words back in his mind, heart sinking when he realized how aggressive he’d gotten. He couldn’t slow down his breathing, why couldn’t he slow his breathing?? Jesus christ, he wasn’t about to break down on top of all that other shit he just unleashed. Perfect, he was just proving the other side’s point for them.

With his body now starting to shake, jaw clenched to hold back tears because this week has been bullshit, and he felt like curling up and disappearing, if not to escape his aching body then to at least escape the anger he knew would result from that whole verbal meltdown he just had. Obviously Roman would be leaving, but would he yell first? Tell him how annoying and selfish he was, and how he didn’t get to be a huge asshole just because he was feeling a little under the weather? Or would he leave in silence, just exit the room with that silent, cold anger that Roman only showed when he was really upset.

Maybe he’d tell everyone else what happened, how he’d tried to extend an olive branch, test it out just to see if maybe his illness hadn’t made him into a pathetic prick, but Virgil lashed out as expected and ran him off. Would Logan and Patton get mad at him too? Come in and tell him off for being so horrible to his own family, that he couldn’t even be a decent person for 5 minutes.

Maybe things wouldn’t go back to normal even after he’s recovered, all because he couldn’t just control himself.

“Virgil, what are you talking about?” Roman asked exasperated, and Virgil dragged his hands down his face. He meant to make more of a growl in frustration, but it came out closer to a pained whine. His eyes stung for a new reason now. He just wanted this to stop. Why wouldn’t Roman just stop?

“What. What am I talking about what. I can’t do this- this whole vague shit righ’now, jus’ spit it out.” He hated how short tempered he was sounding, but Roman didn’t seem to be fazed. Virgil could see the Prince waving his hands around in his peripheral, looking tongue tied.

“The- The part where you think i’m fucking with you?? Why you think we’re avoiding you?? Why you’re so-... so….” Roman trailed off, a look of realization crossing his face, which quickly turned to horror and guilt. “Wait a… w-wait a second, Virgil, are you- are you sick??”

To say Roman sounded appalled would be an understatement, his eyes wide in shock, brows drawn, mouth slightly agape. Virgil’s head spun, suddenly dizzy as his brain tried to figure out why Roman sounded so horrified- why he sounded so surprised. He couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt nauseous and he just wanted to sleep. Before he knew it, tears were trekking down his face, thick tears springing from his eyes making the pressure behind them even more unbearable. A sob tore painfully from his throat, instantly catching the Prince’s full attention.

“Oh my… Virgil-“

Virgil shrunk away from the Prince’s voice, curling up once more into a ball, trying to hide from everything. His lip wobbled, he could feel it, but he was too tired to be embarrassed or feel pathetic. He pulled the covers closer around him. “R-Roman, please jus’-“ He hiccuped on a sob, hissed through his teeth as the action sent a sharp pain through his lungs. “I don’ know i-if you’re tryin’ to joke ‘r somethin’, but— but ’s n- not funny, o-okay?”

Instead of speaking clearly at a normal volume, Virgil was nearly mumbling the entire time he was speaking, slurring through words even worse than when the conversation started. Was it just him, or was the room spinning? “Please, i… i need you t’...” Virgil huffed for breath, exhaustion wearing on him like a switch was just suddenly flipped. It nearly took all his energy to try and get a deep breath.

“Ro…”

Virgil was met with a warm, broad chest, and strong arms wrapping around him before he even knew he was slumping forward. His ears were ringing, drowning out what sounded like a familiar voice speaking to him. They sounded distressed, he hoped they were okay. What was combing through his hair? He couldn’t quite remember what was going on before then, but all he knew was, he was safe now.

Then, the world went dark.

———

Virgil came into consciousness a little while later, his brain the kind of blissfully empty that only comes after passing out, apparently. He couldn’t grasp where he was before, existing in a reality where there is no past for a few moments. His head was vaguely aching, like a dull throb faded into the background, and his lungs stung only a little when he breathed in deeply. In his sleepy state though, Virgil didn’t concern himself with those feelings.

Virgil couldn’t see anything, he noticed not long after, but he could hear murmuring and the distant sound of water running.

Next, he realized he knew he wasn’t in his own room anymore, both because this wasn’t his mattress, and the room didn’t smell like his own.

He could smell.. cinnamon… and peaches… and ink. Somewhere in his groggy brain, Virgil recognized the smell, but at the moment it was just out of his reach. It didn’t bother him, though, not when he was so relaxed and calm. He felt like he was one with the bed, and the soft, fluffy sheets encasing him.

A few more seconds of coming to, and Virgil realized his eyes were covered with something damp, and cool… soft too. It felt amazing against his warm skin. oh right, i’m sick, a thought entered his mind gently.

Then, a lot less gently, the events from before he passed out rushed to the forefront of his mind, practically smacking him in the face. Because yes, he’d passed out, right in front of Roman like an idiot, oh shit, why isn’t he in his room, where is he-

“Virgil? Hey woah, calm down buddy- here,” Virgil heard someone quickly cross the room, and tended his body for all of two seconds before the washcloth over his eyes was being lifted.

Virgil blinked blearily, squinting his eyes even though the room was almost completely shrouded in darkness, save for a thin line of light coming from the cracked bathroom door. Someone was sat beside him on the side of the bed, but he was too blurry for Virgil to make out details.

“There you are. Hey Hot Topic, how are you feeling?” the person asked, speaking more gently than anyone had spoken to Virgil in a long time. Strangely though, Virgil wasn’t upset by it. It was.. nice…

Wait a minute, he knew that voice.

“R- Roman..? I.. Where…?” Distantly, Virgil knew he sounded like shit, which meant he probably looked like shit, and directly after asking that half assed question, he realized he had to be in the Princes room. “Oh.. fuckin’- I passed out on you..” he groaned, moving his hands up to scrub the blurriness from his eyes.

It worked, surprisingly, and now that Virgil could see, he realized that yes, Roman was the one sitting next to him, and yes he was in Roman’s room, in Roman’s bed. He also noticed how tossed Roman’s hair was, and the bright red with little snowmen pajamas the Prince wore. They were really adorable.

“Yes, I’m afraid you did.. and I’m also afraid that I am partly to blame for it.” Roman sighed, casting his eyes down as he pressed his lips in a line.

Virgil’s brows drew together, and, because he was so delirious, he reached out to grab gently at Romans sleeve. “How is it your fault that I passed out?” he asked incredulously. At least he could speak properly now. Now? Now since when? Oh geez, “Wait how long have I been out? A few hours? Days? Years?! Did I fall into a coma?!”

The corner of Roman’s lip lifted in amusement, and he gently lay a hand over Virgil’s, on his sleeve. “No, no nothing like that, Dark Knight. It’s only been an hour or so. I.. hope you don’t mind, but I had to bring you in here. Your fever was… really high.” The Prince of Creativity said, solemn by the end.

“I think i’ve managed to get it down, so it’s not so dangerous anymore, but Logan will definitely have to keep an eye on it today.”

That got Virgil's attention. “Wait- Logan? Uh.. yeah, not to burst your bubble Princey, but I doubt that’ll be happening.” There was a slight bitterness to his tone as he wrapped his free arm around his midsection, and though there wasn’t as much bitterness as there usually would be, Roman still picked up on it loud and clear.

He inclined his head, as if in agreement, and Virgil stomach only sunk a little bit before Roman was speaking again.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Virgil. You see, there seems to have been a grave misunderstanding. This is how I’m partially responsible for your passing out, same as Logan and Patton are also partly to blame.”

Virgil’s eyes widened, breath hitching at the sheer ridiculousness of that suggestion. No!! How could it be their fault? He’s the one that got so sick and couldn’t keep himself healthy enough not to fucking pass out. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Roman held up a finger before he could get out a single word, silencing him.

“A few days ago, 5 to be exact, it came to Patton’s attention that you weren’t feeling yourself. He told me and Logan that you told him you weren’t feeling very well, and that we should all give you some space the next few days.” Roman said carefully. Ah yes, that conversation. The one that’s haunted Virgil for nearly a week. Virgil remembered it well.

With a hesitant, still very lost nod from Virgil, Roman continued. “It seems that Patton, and in turn, Logan and I, assumed that your strange behavior was linked to.. well, anxiety.” He gave Virgil’s hand a light squeeze, any sign of a smile gone and replaced with pained regret. The Prince swallowed, just as Virgil pieced it together.

“Because of these more stressful times Thomas is experiencing, we wrongly thought that you were having a rough week, leading to worse anxiety. So… we’ve been leaving you on your own, thinking we were helping you..”

Virgil.. didn’t know what to say. He looked up and found Roman’s red, sorrowful eyes. When he focused, he could see they were just a little bit bloodshot, even in the dark. Proof that he had previously cried, no doubt about this. When Virgil didn’t speak, still too shocked as his slowed brain processes this, Roman continued, quietly choking back a sob just after he averted his gaze to the floor.

“V-Virgil-“ he voice cracked. Virgil’s heart was sinking in his chest. Roman had never looked so heartbroken. “Virgil I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were sick, none of us did! I-I swear I didn’t know, I would have never left you alone if I had, Virgil, Star, i’m so so s-sorry,”

Roman was practically full on crying by that point, though he clearly tried to keep it to himself and stay quiet. Virgil was grateful for the effort, but there were much more important things to focus on at the moment. He may not be completely himself, but he still couldn’t let Roman be so sad.

It was because he wasn’t completely himself that Virgil automatically sat up (taking his time to do so, trying not to upset his head), and leaned himself right against Roman, chest to chest, looping his arms around to loosely hold Princey in a hug.

It all made sense now, why he’d been ignored all week, and why nobody came to check on him or try to help. He felt a little (read: a lot) stupid for thinking that anyone in his famILY would do anything but show him the upmost care and attention when he needed it. They thought they were helping, and honestly, had he in fact been having a bad week of heightened anxiety, giving him space would have been the right thing for them to do.

Roman was quick to return Virgil’s hug, though to his credit, his hug was a lot stronger and more secure than Virgil’s. He buried his face in Virgil’s hair, a steady stream of teary apologies spilling from him. A steady stream that Virgil hastily tried to end.

“Roman, it’s okay… i’m not upset, I promise it’s okay. I know you were doing what you thought would help me. Please don’t cry, Princey.” He said softly.

It might have been a few more minutes, or a few hours, that the two sides sat together in each other’s arms. Roman’s cries and apologies slowly quieted to a stop, though the gentle combing of fingers through Virgil’s hair only continued as they sat.

“Hey… Roman?” Virgil whispered after a few more moments, the whole mindscape quiet, save for the quiet sniffles from both Virgil and Roman every once in a while.

“Yes, sweet Midnight?” came an equally gentle response. Neither side moved, Virgil too content with his face snuggly buried against his counterpart’s shoulder, and Roman too content with having Anxiety safe in his arms.

“Would… well, you can say no, but would you mind.. if I stay in here..? I don’t… really want to be alone…” a hint of Virgil’s usual anxious tendencies showed itself despite the tiredness that was starting to cover the darker side. Instead of head-swimming exhaustion though, this time Virgil felt pleasantly heavy and relaxed.

Without uttering another word, Roman pulled them both down to lay their heads on the pillows, lifting one hand to gently flick his wrist and manipulate the covers around them. The light in the bathroom turned off with a soft click of Roman’s fingers, one that Virgil hardly registered as he shuffled somehow closer to the Prince, still tucked safely in his arms.

As he fell softly and smoothly into the first restful sleep he’s had in days, Virgil noticed that he wasn’t freezing cold anymore. The dull throb in his head had gone away almost entirely, and it felt that much easier to breathe. But most importantly, Virgil felt less alone than he had in a long, long time.

Needless to say, Virgil was feeling better already.

#tw sickness #hurt/comfort #sanders sides #ts sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #prinxiety #virgil x roman #romantic prinxiety #platonic prinxiety

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sillyguyhotline · 3 years

Note

17. “How is any of this ok?” with Joe and Sara maybe?

dude im gonna be completely honest i havent written anything in like a month so i think the quality isnt gonna be great but here goes nothing

God, Sara missed the feeling of home.

Every semblance of familiarity and comfort she’d once found in the town she’d grown up in, the house she’d spent her childhood running through, now felt chillingly foreign.

Perhaps it was the heavy burden of knowledge weighing fresh upon her shoulders: ASUNARO’s corruption seemed now to peer slyly around every corner, no matter where she went. She still didn’t know how much of the town had rotted away under its grasp, how much of the town its poison had pervaded… but she was probably better off not knowing.

Whatever was left of Midori, that miserable mix of pulsing blood and electronic emotion, had been ground to bits inside that coffin… but Sara couldn’t ignore the creeping fear that his burning, ever-present gaze would appear out of nowhere and terrorize her again.

But he wouldn’t. The death game was over, and they’d promised they would never hurt her or any of her loved ones again.

Most of the loved ones she still encountered day-to-day, gruesomely blood splattered and sitting like corpses propped up hastily in a corner, would be safe no matter if ASUNARO was fresh on her tail or a thousand miles away. What a cruel price to pay for safety, to never be hurt again.

They still lived on if Sara closed her eyes tight enough, if she listened to the twisting words of the hallucinations and let them convince her she was monstrous. But the second she dared to open her eyes, she knew they’d be dead again. Life worked in terrible ways, and that was all there was to it.

Joe’s house had always been a second home to her, ever since the two of them became friends. Joe was the farthest cry from Sara in terms of social interactions- it had taken at least 3 months for Sara to trust Joe enough to invite him over, but Joe had insisted she hang out at his house the very same day they became friendly enough to exchange more than a sentence with each other.

There was a certain sort of comfort to the warmth of his house, the constant scent of cooking food pervading the air and the little trinkets scattered in every corner. No surface of his house went without decoration, in its silly little way. It was full of pictures, too, some carefully framed and some dangling from the wall by pushpins, but Sara got the sense that none of the photos went unloved. Most of them were occupied by an orange-haired man, often carrying a younger Joe (back when he was still sporting that atrocious crew cut). Sara always assumed it was his dad, but thought it would be impolite to ask… particularly when the weeks stretched on and Sara had yet to meet that mysterious orange-haired man.

Eventually, pictures of Sara began to join the collage on the wall- pictures taken as she butchered yet another pop song during karaoke, or when they went out to get food, or when she mistakenly sat down on a traffic cone during gym (after many protests from Sara, he took that one down). As silly as the pictures were, and as obvious as it was that Joe had waited for the most embarrassing moments to take them, it was sort of sweet in a way.

Joe’s mother was always kind to her, though there was a constant weariness in her eyes that Sara always felt a bit uneasy about questioning. Sometimes she’d let the two of them cook things in the kitchen, but more often than not they’d go up to Joe’s room and screw around in there, with video games or music or the 50 times Joe tried to persuade Sara to climb out the window and sit on the roof with him before she finally agreed.

As rare as it was for Sara to agree to sit on the roof, it was even rarer for Joe to agree to study with her, much to Sara’s chagrin. Joe had always walked a fine line between passing and failing, but Sara had to admit he walked it well. When she did manage to convince him to study, though (usually the day before final exams), they’d sit on the cushy couch in his living room and somehow manage to bother each other as much as possible while feigning concentration.

The couch hadn’t changed after several years- Sara could tell that much the minute she sat down on it and avoided the urge to break eye contact with Joe’s mother. It was still well-worn, a couch that likely should have been replaced at least a decade ago but had never really been disposed of. Loose threads were protruding from the cover, drawn out from years of visitors fidgeting with them.

Sara shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the slight motion making her sink deeper into the couch’s soft cushioning. She’d only spent one minute in the house and was already sweating, whether from the heat of the home or the thousand-yard stare of the woman sitting across from her.

Ryoko was there, too, sitting to Sara’s left and gazing listlessly at the well-trodden carpet beneath her feet. …Ryoko.

Sara cast a hesitant glance around the room, duly noting the photos covering the walls. Not a single one of hers had been taken down, but several more photos had appeared with Joe’s beaming face featuring prominently in them. Joe’s presence was always enough to fill a room even when he wasn’t speaking; it took a lot to fill in the gaps left by his absence.

God, she missed him.

The wind whistled against the window-screen; Sara had memorized the familiar creak of the wooden window frame being lifted up to welcome in the mild autumn air. Sara had always thought of autumn as a beginning- she loved summer as much as any other kid, but as the haze of the weather began to wind down she was quick to grow impatient and look forward to the school year, to being productive again. Joe had always disagreed with her.

“Fall is the literal death of fun,” he’d complained once, walking home with Sara after finishing the first week of school. “Couldn’t they have pushed back the first day of school by, like, another week? You think if we got enough people to sign a petition, they’d give us an extra week of summer?”

“Oh, come on, we both know even if you had an extra week of summer you’d just be complaining a week later,” Sara had teased back.

The death of fun. It certainly felt like that, Sara decided. She’d never feared the looming darkness of fall and winter quite so much before. But now, she supposed, there was no sunshine who’d weather it with her.

“Well… Sara?” Joe’s mother spoke up, voice hoarse with the sound of repressed tears in her throat. Sara recognized the sound all too well.

There was no resentment in the woman’s eyes when Sara made eye contact with her. No anger, no frustration, nor had there been any in her measured motions when she welcomed Sara into the home. It didn’t take any words for Sara to tell that there was no blame to be foisted upon her.

She was still Joe’s best friend.

“I’m sorry to have dragged you out here on such short notice.” The woman’s voice was weak. “I don’t know all the details of what happened, of course. Haven’t heard anything, aside from the little tidbits the police told me when I dropped by the station.”

Sara’s shoulders stiffened at the mention of the police, at the idea of them pleasantly answering her questions as though they weren’t just as complicit in that tragedy as ASUNARO had been.

“And…” the woman glanced down at her hands, toughened from a lifetime of working. “I know something terrible happened to you. The circles under your eyes are darker than midnight, I know it’s so selfish of me to be dragging you out here, but… I haven’t slept a wink for weeks. Been so worried about Joe, and about you too.”

She nodded in the direction of the black-haired girl who hadn’t spoken a word the entire time. “Ryoko’s been worried about the both of you, too. Your parents weren’t answering the door, so she went to me. I hope you’ll forgive the two of us for disturbing you, Sara, but… you have the answers the police won’t give us, don’t you?”

God, her gaze was piercing.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

It was taking everything in Sara’s power not to look at the vacant seat to her right. If Joe was there, he would have been laughing and lightening the mood, completing the circle that had been left so jarringly empty.

But they wouldn’t have been having this conversation if Joe was there.

Ms. Tazuna nodded slowly. “This means the world to me, Sara. Don’t forget that.”

Sara did her best to muster a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

The woman gave another nod, eyes defocusing as though even now, she wasn’t quite sure why she was there. “Alright. Alright. Well, then…” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Guess I should get right to the point, yeah? Is he… is… how is he…?”

So she still hadn’t quite let go of that little thread of hope, even after seeing Sara return home safe and alive with no best friend in tow. Who was Sara to judge? When hope was the only thing to cling to, it only made sense to cling to it like a lifeline.

Sara twisted her hands, the same old nervous habit she’d had for years, and wondered briefly if she’d picked it up from Ms. Tazuna. How terrible it was, to carry the news that nobody, much less any mother, ever wanted to hear.

“I… I’m sorry, Ms. Tazuna. He didn’t make it out alive.”

Sara hadn’t expected the hush that immediately fell over the room. She’d expected immediate tears, the grieving cry of a mother in pain. Instead, the room became muffled, still as a painting captured in time.

Slowly, Ryoko looked up from her bitten-down fingers, eyes rimmed red already. Ryoko had always been an emotional person, the only person Sara knew who could fluctuate from full-on sobs to cheerful giggles in less than a minute. Sara was so unused to the look that was now filling her eyes- cold, solid misery. As though there were no tears in her eyes left to cry, no more tragedies to bemoan. Just a deep and horrified comprehension of just how many things in her life had gone wrong.

And, slowly, Ms. Tazuna began to cry.

Tears had become so uncomfortable for Sara to bear witness to. Was it selfish of her to look away? It couldn’t be, not when every raw sob reminded her of the art student seeing her first (and certainly not last) death, of the broken sibling openly weeping over apologies gone unspoken, of the unknowing siblings screaming their throats out with pleas for death so the other could survive.

Especially not now. Not when every tear rang in her mind as a reminder of cold tubes piercing her best friend’s chest, of his corpse slumping and falling in a pool of blood, because oh god he wasn’t supposed to have lost so much blood, how was he supposed to live without it, of the clickclickclickclickclicking rising in volume while her attempts to save him grew feebler and feebler.

Her hands were bloodstained, no matter how many times she tried to scrub them clean. Those dreadful hands of hers had failed her, failed Joe, failed the women sobbing openly in front of her.

She swallowed back the apologies that always rose in her throat as Ms. Tazuna rushed to sniffle back her tears.

“I… god, I… he’s really gone?”

Sara couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please… please tell me it was a peaceful death. He didn’t… suffer too much, did he?”

The resounding wave of clicks flooded her mind. “It was as peaceful as I could make it. I… he smiled at me, right before he died. I’d… very much like to think that means he was happy when he died.”

“What happened?” Ryoko’s voice came out rough, the first of it Sara had heard in weeks. “Joe told me, after our date, that he was going to walk you home, and then neither of you showed up at school the next day. And now… it’s been three weeks? And Joe… Joe’s dead? What the hell happened, Sara?”

“God,” Sara mumbled, mesmerizing herself with the twisting motions of her own hands. “I’m not sure if you’d even believe me if I told you. I don’t even know if I believe what happened myself.”

“I’d believe anything.” The sentence was firm. “I just want to know what happened.”

Sara nodded wearily. The familiar weight of her bright orange ponytail was notably missing- the day after she’d escaped, she’d demanded the hairdresser cut her hair short and crisp. She shuddered every time she thought about the ponytail brushing against her neck as she spent each argument screaming and protesting for her life. Even worse was the memory of how carefully Joe had styled her hair, forsaking his usual clumsiness to braid every strand with a remarkable tenderness. She didn’t want to remember any of it- even though, as the locks went cascading to the floor, she was reminded starkly of Keiji’s bleach-stained trauma response.

“For some reason, something to do with the mafia, we were kidnapped. And pulled into a death game. There were twenty of us, including me and Joe. I- I’m not going to get into all the specifics. It’s going to make me sick to my stomach if I do. But… they made us play this sadistic fucking game to narrow down the competition. Based on cards. Joe drew a bad card, and… they executed him.” Something in Sara’s throat tightened as she finished speaking, and she fell silent.

“Just like that?” His mother’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “How… how’d they kill him?”

“I’d rather not say.” There came the gushing sound of blood pulsing through the tubes. “He didn’t suffer too long” - she hoped - “but it was a gruesome way to die. I don’t want to think about it, please understand.”

It took a moment for his mother to register the words and nod, face still painted with horror.

“Why… how did the two of you even end up there in the first place?” Ryoko spoke up again. “You said something about the mafia? How the hell are you two connected with the mafia?”

“I don’t know how I am,” Sara responded immediately. “It must be something with my family. I couldn’t control any of this, I swear, but… Joe wasn’t meant to end up there at all.”

Ryoko paused. “He… he wasn’t meant to end up there?”

Sara swallowed back the lump in her throat. “The game… it was something that was being prepared for ages. There weren’t just a few ragtag kidnappers behind it, there was an entire organization. Even the police were involved. They ran AI tests, hundreds if not thousands of them, trying to calculate who’d be the most likely to win. And… when all the numbers came back, the person most likely to win… was me.”

She spread her arms wide, baring her sins and her cruelties to the world, and in that moment felt distinctly like the angel of death Keiji had branded her to be.

“They needed something to drag me down, I guess. Make the odds more balanced. So they dragged Joe into this fucking mess. I guess they thought that him being there would keep me steady enough to make everything fair.” A cold hand, dripping with tendrils of phantom blood, caressed her chin with a lethal grip. “...They were right.”

Ryoko’s gaze had gone cold again. “So Joe died just because you cared about him? What the fuck kind of death sentence is that?”

Sara shook her head numbly.

“Why did it have to be him?” The heartbreak in Ryoko’s voice was clearer than day. “So many people love you, Sara, why did it have to be him? Hell, I’m your best friend too, aren’t I? Why couldn’t it have been me? I’m a much worse person than Joe ever was, I deserved to be in his place way more. Couldn’t they have killed me instead?”

Sara winced at the growing desperation in her best friend’s voice, the raw crack she knew all too well. It should have been me, it should have been me, it should have been me. Sara could have almost fooled herself into seeing a crisp aquamarine when Ryoko’s hair flashed into the light.

“Ryoko… it could have been.”

The girl fell silent.

“They had files on you too. They knew how close we were, they knew how much you meant to me… but Joe was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And they fucking killed him for it.”

Oh, how she wished she could go back to that balmy early-autumn night, see the smile on Joe’s face and listen to his lighthearted laughter again. The desire to keep one’s friend safe had become a crime deserving of a death sentence.

Ryoko’s eyes remained locked to Sara’s, devoid of any dullness. In the look they exchanged was a deep, sinking understanding, one that had nauseated Sara to the core the first time the realization struck her.

It was by no crafty strategy that Joe had died instead of Ryoko, no favoritism biased against the kindest person either of them would ever know. It was a simple, terrible twist of fate. Ryoko could have taken his place had she done something as inconsequential as offering to walk Sara home instead.

But she hadn’t.

It took everything in Sara’s power to avoid wondering what would’ve changed if she had.

“How is any of this okay?” Ryoko broke the silence weakly. “They killed him- they could have killed me, too. He was seventeen. Seventeen. How did anybody let this happen? How did this happen, Sara?”

“I- I don’t know.” Ryoko’s wrath was simmering; even though Sara knew truly that she wasn’t the subject of the anger, she still felt scalded. “I miss him so much, Ryoko. I watched him die, and nothing in my power let me save him. I miss him, Ryoko, I miss him every waking minute of every day. We were supposed to escape together and get out safe and pretend this never happened, but…” the tears were beginning to well up again. She couldn’t bear the thought of breaking down in front of anyone, especially not over him.

“I’m going to go make some coffee,” his mother interrupted suddenly. She’d been noticeably quiet, but the still-fresh streaks of tears painted down her cheeks told the story she didn’t need to vocalize. “Some coffee, and some snacks. And we’ll keep talking from there, alright? Do you guys have your phones?”

The two girls nodded uneasily.

“Please… find any pictures you have of him. I want to make this wall as bright as possible.”

Without any other words, she hurried out of the room, and it fell to silence once more. Outside the window, the cool autumn breeze began to stir the leaves in the air, gusting forward to brush against Sara’s cheek just as the hallucination had done mere minutes ago.

And the Tazuna household began to feel more like home again.

#is this worth publishing to ao3 #idk #gonna put it in the tags im feelin risky tonight #yttd #joe tazuna #sara chidouin #ryoko hirose #joesara #i guess #i just tag anything joesara at this point even if it's not outright romantic #idc whether it's romantic or platonic honestly #theyre them #and thats all that matters

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daegall · 3 years

Text

Twitterpated

↳ to feel in love/love-struck

pairing: Lee Donghyuck x reader

Genre: fluff... uh... overall fluff 🤧

Warnings: mentions of death and a dead body (but nobody's dead), swearing (?)

Word count: 3.7k words

A/n: AYO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR SUN <3333 OUR BBY <33333 LOL I PROBABLY WONT BE HERE WHEN ITS ACTUALLY HIS BIRTHDAY SINCE ITS LITERALLY A DAY BEFOR EMY FINALS START 💀💀 SO ITS ON SCHEDULE </33

ANYWAYS YEAH HAPPY BIRTHDAY DONGHYUCK!!

alsooo this is part of the first collab made by @renhyucks (thanks bby <33) please do enjoy, and do not hesitate to tell me if there are any spelling mistakes or anything bad i wrote!! thank you!!

(guess who's expert procrastinator and wrote like 50% of this a week before his birthday AND finals </3 thats right </33 finals too </33)

You’ve been bragging about your braggable boyfriend for around a year now, and now you’re worried if you’ve bragged about him too much.

Today is the day. Donghyuck is going to meet your family. After months of postponing and delaying, he’s coming home with you for Christmas, a very big deal for your family, it’s like a big present for them.

"Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Hyuck I’m gonna die. I’m screwed. Tell them I love them.”

You were clearly overreacting, it can never be that bad. Your boyfriend snorts, squeezing your hand reassuringly as you two make your way up the stairs. You wish something happens within the short span of time until you get to the door.

“Babe it can’t be that bad, you’ve told them lots about me, right?” You shoot Donghyuck a quick glare, before nodding a bit reluctantly, “I think a bit too much though.” To your dismay there are no people around to stop you, nobody to stop and postpone the meeting for. Darn Christmas holidays. “Do you think they won’t like me?”

This time, it’s you who lets out a quick laugh, “No, they will love you. They’re gonna tell you all my embarrassing stories and phases in my life. Oh my god no, no no no, you can’t know. Let’s turn around, yeah?” Donghyuck ruffles your hair playfully with a shake of his head. “Really? But we’re already here! And I see your brother by the window there.”

You instantly light up when you see Sungchan’s familiar bright smile, laughing affectionately when he starts to jump up and down and yell something. Once you get in front of the door, you can finally hear what he’s been yelling, “JAEHYUN HYUNGGGG!!!!! THEY’RE HERE THEY’RE HERE!!!”

You don’t even have to knock on the door, it already swings open to reveal both your brothers with bright smiles on their faces, bright smiles that brightens up your own. “NOONA!” Sungchan rushed up to you and instantly wraps his arms around your waist, giggling into your chest as you embrace him back just as tightly.

He then turns to your boyfriend, with even lighter eyes, and to your surprise, he gives Donghyuck a hug as well, “It’s nice to finally meet you!” Donghyuck stumbles back a bit and is definitely startled, but eventually he becomes soft and wraps his arms around your brother with a small smile. “Y/n’s told me lots about you,”

Sungchan pulls away enthusiastically, jumping up and down, “Wait! Let me go get mom!” And in an instant later, he’s dashed into his house yelling out for his mother. Your eldest brother, Jaehyun, smiles brightly at the sight of Donghyuck tugging nervously at your hands, a light chuckle leaving his lips gloriously.

He walks up to you, and you spread your arms out for a hug, but all that happens is your hair you spent 20 minutes on getting ruined by him ruffling his hand through it. “Nice to see you’ve finally got it together and got a nice boyfriend, twerp.”

“G-good? I’ve always had taste, Jeffery!” You scowl and push your brother’s hand away from your hair, huffing and shaking your head to fix the messy mop of strands. Jaehyun then turns to Donghyuck, his eyes practically shining with stars when your boyfriend bows politely.

Jaehyun nudges at your shoulder, “Wow, you’ve got a good one.” He snickers when you groan and swat him away once again, before turning back to Donghyuck with the same smile as before. To your boyfriend’s shock, and definitely to yours, Jaehyun leans down to give Donghyuck a brotherly hug, almsot melting into his embrace. What is up with your brothers today?

Christmas music can be heard softly from in the house, and despite being outside you can hear Sungchan beckoning your mother to go outside to see you and Donghyuck. It warms your heart, it feels so raw, and it’s even better with Donghyuck by your side. Jaehyun quickly lets your boyfriend go, when your mother’s voice rings out nostalgically and warmly greeting you with a warm smile, “Y/n! How are you dear?”

You run into her arms with no hesitation, feeling especially excited after so many months of missing her. The feeling of home rushes over your senses at your mother’s familiar embrace, sighing when she clings harder and sways side to side. A delightful smile curls your lips upward as you mumble a small response, “I missed you so much,”

The second she pulls away she’s patting your cheek softly, chuckling, before she notices Donghyuck behind you. His nervosity is so intense that all your family members can sense it wherever you are, and you find it frankly funny. His eyes are practically shaking when your mom approaches him with slow movements. Sure, they’ve met through facetime, but that’s nothing compared to a face-to-face encounter.

A cheeky smile creeps up to your cheeks when your mother stretches out to grab ahold of Donghyuck’s hands, holding them gently. (you assume it’s because of how much they’ve been shaking) “It’s nice to meet you in person, Donghyuck-ah,”

At her soft words, you notice Donghyuck slightly melt in relief and comfort, his smile growing 2 times bigger, “Y/n’s told me so much about your family,”

Beside you, Sungchan tugs at your hand, “Let’s go inside, mom and I made cookies!”

Indeed, they made cookies. They made great cookies.

Donghyuck hums loudly in bliss the moment he bites into a freshly baked cookie, closing his eyes and leaning onto you, “You should learn to bake like Sungchannie, Y/n,”

From deep in the kitchen, you hear your little brother snort loudly, “I would teach her for free Hyung, trust me.”

A scowl is the only response from you, as you munch harshly on the (delicious, but you wouldn’t admit it) cookie and shrug Donghyuck off your shoulder. Your boyfriend cackles out at your pettiness, wrapping his arm around your waist to tug you close to him.

You can’t stop the smile from spreading through your face when he tries to nudge another cookie at your lips, the ‘say aaa’s he says right by your ears resonating through your head. With a glance at the cute expression on his face, a light laugh falls from your lips, and you open your mouth to take a bite.

“They’ve been here for 15 minutes and are already all over each other.” At Jaehyun’s comment, you give him a dirty look and finish yet another cookie you stole from the fresh batch. “Hey! You were even worse with that random girl last year! Where is she now, Jae??”

Your older brother chuckles, walking over to help Sungchan and make sure he doesn’t burn himself, “She’s spending Christmas with her family this year.” You turn away from his teasing gaze with your head high up in the air, eyes shut in fake arrogance, “It’s your turn to suffer from the lovey-dovey stuff now.” (Sungchan grimaces in the corner, pulling his mittens off harshly, “When’s it not my turn?”)

“At least mom’s happy I brought Donghyuck home.”

“I’m happy you brought a good one this year, unlike the one 5 years ago,”

“THAT WAS A HIGH SCHOOL FLING! MY TASTE WAS BAD BACK THEN!”

Donghyuck chuckles and leans on the counter, resting his head on his hand as he gazes at your family argument, “Glad you don’t think I’m bad,” When you glance at him, and the soft look he has, you look away, flustered, “Hyuck you’re like.... my first good boyfriend.” Your voice grows quieter towards the end of the sentence, and suddenly you feel so flustered for some reason. The soft Christmas music fills the silence, and you grow even more embarrassed.

You turn your head cautiously to see the reactions of each of your loved ones, surprised to see a warm look in each of their eyes, as if they’ve seen a puppy tumble and get right back up. Your mother bites her lip to contain the squeals when you make eye contact with your boyfriend, choosing to continue her cookie work and look away when you shift in sheepishness and try to act nonchalant.

Sungchan decides to break the tension, placing the last batch of cookies in a jar, “Speaking of boyfriends, Shotaro’s brother is bringing his boyfriend when they come to visit.” Donghyuck breaks away from the sudden daze of love he had, turning to Sungchan with interest, “Really? So how many people are we expecting?”

“Around 3 more people,” Your little brother replies, “More if Sicheng hyung invited his Chinese friends as well.”

“Wow Sungchan, you’re quite the popular one aren’t you?” Sungchan smiles smugly at the sudden boast, proudly nodding as he tries to shrug cooly. You appreciate Donghyuck complimenting him, it’s not everyday your boyfriend gets along with your family, and definitely not always when Jaehyun greets him with a hug.

The next day, you wake up late (as usual after a movie night), and you go downstairs only to see your older brother and boyfriend eating their breakfasts next to each other on the couch as they watch yet another Christmas movies and talk about something.

They acknowledge you, but don't bother stopping anything to talk to you. You're glad they do, you wouldn't understand anything they would say with such a hazy state of mind. Pulling out a carton of chocolate milk from a big pack (presumably Sungchan and Shotaro's), you trudge back to the living area and sit on Jaehyun's usual spot.

There's snow outside, you notice, it's pretty thick. You don't realize in your half-asleep form, but both men have stopped talking and are now staring at your sleepy form.

"Y/n, you should eat actual food, and not just drink chocolate milk."

The statement is unexpected, and all you to is stop sipping and look at Jaehyun with questioning eyes.

"He's right, go eat some cereal, boo."

Your face scrunches up at the sudden pet name he would never use on you, already standing up to obey his orders, "Since when did you call me boo? Also, where's mom and Sungchan?"

"Since now, boo. And mom and Sungchan are out getting Christmas gifts."

Your heart leaps at the fact that Donghyuck called your mother 'mom' so comfortable already, you wouldn't blame him after last night when she was especially paying close attention to him and taking care of him nicely. Not to mention the fact that she added and added to his plate instead of her own children's.

You hum back as a reply, pouring some coco pops in a bowl (both the cereal and bowl are Sungchan's), before pouring in a generous amount of milk into the bowl. You smile down at the nostalgic breakfast you used to eat everyday, when was the last time you had cereal?

Instead of joining back to the living room, you decide to eat on the counter, which is right by the window, and admire the twinkling snow covering the ground. You live in the city with Donghyuck, which doesn't have that much snow, but here outside the city, the snow is so beautiful and evident, you just want to sleep in it like it was a warm bed -except it wasn't warm at all.

Still a little bit asleep, you don't notice Jaehyun in the kitchen with you until he speaks up and startles you once again, "You wanna go outside and make snow angels like we used to?"

Your shock bubbles into excitement at the suggestion, quickly nodding with a big smile on your face.

"Then eat up quickly, I'll meet you outside."

He leaves you alone in the kitchen, yelling a 'we're gonna go play in the snow, you wanna come man?' to Donghyuck, to which he gets a 'fuck yeah!' in return.

And like that your bowl of cereal is in the sink, long abandoned by you, the you who is currently throwing on your padded jacket and slipping on some boots hurriedly. You can already hear the yells of it being so cold from your boyfriend, and the loud boyish laugh from your beloved brother on the other side of the door.

You can feel the excitement coursing through your veins, it feels good, you haven't felt like this in so long. You finally open the door, and step outside onto the cold snow. Just as a blissful smile reaches your lips, there's a struck of ice cold trickling down your neck and back.

You turn to find the culprit is no other than Lee Donghyuck himself, laughing along with Jaehyun at your shocked expression.

You don't even waste a second, you're instantly picking up a handful of snow and patting it in your hands securely and creating an imperfect, but firm snowball. With no hesitation, you launch it into the air with all your force, and to your utter delight it his Donghyuck straight at his chest.

"HAH! TAKE THAT!"

Your celebratory dance is short-lasted, as you know if you stayed in spot for too long you would be attacked as well. With playful laughs and taunts, you rush past the 2 men and behind the tree for (poor) protection.

You need to make snowballs, you need to make them quick. Gathering as much snow as you can in your hands, you squeeze hard only for a few seconds, before gently dropping the snowball and repeating this process for as much snowballs as you can muster. You can hear the faint discussion of your temporary rivals, the more shuffling in the snow gives you that feeling of thrill.

There's a spilt second of silence, no shuffling in the snow anymore, no whispers of which side which will take. The second, is of course, like every other second, short, before you hear yells and feel the coldness of the snow hit your skin like gunshots.

Dropping all your snowballs, you act like it was a gunshot, falling dramatically to the ground as you clutch your hands to your stomach, "I've been shot! I've been wounded! Jae, Hyuck, tell Sungchan and mom my will is all to them."

"What about us?"

You pant dramatically and point at them accusingly, "You fuckers get nothing." Your head rolls back to the snow, your hand falling over your stomach as you hold your breath.

A fake sniffle falls from Jaehyun's lips, and he kneels down next to your 'dead' form, "WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!" He takes your hand in his, "WHAT HAVE WE DOOONNNEEE!!",Your boyfriend slowly falls next to your as well, this time cradling your face in his hands, "We're monsters.... WE'RE MONSTERSSS!"

He flops right on top of you, burying your body deep in the snow, "WE'RE SORRY Y/N, WE'VE LET YOU DOWN! WE'VE FAILED YOUUU!" A smile cracks through your numb, icy face, and you let out a hearty chuckle at the small skit you've started.

"Okay, get off me I'm cold!"

"No! You said you wouldn't give us any of your will!"

"Wait no! I'm starting to feel numb! I'm sorry I swear you'll get a little bit!"

Donghyuck shuffles a bit, before he carries himself off your body. The tingling ice cold sensation of snow doesn't fade away, instead it becomes even sharper when Jaehyun splats a pile of snow on top of your head. He giggles cheekily and runs back into the house when you send him a glare, leaving you and Donghyuck alone in the snow.

To your delight he has the decency to at least help you up from your seat on the ground, thoughtfully brushing away the snow on your shoulders, "I like your brother, he's very playful."

You give him a quick look, "Reminds you of someone?"

Donghyuck bumps your shoulder as he laughs, rushing past you towards the house, "Race you there!"

Yes, reminds you exactly of Donghyuck.

It wasn't long until Sungchan's Japanese friend and his brother came. Just 3 days after you and Donghyuck arrived. And just like your little brother mentioned, his Japanese friend's brother brought his boyfriend. His boyfriend's friends decided to turn down the offer, instead wanting to spend Christmas with their own families.

You clicked with them instantly, and it's no doubt your boyfriend did either.

"Taro! You have to see the new soccer shoes I got for my birthday!"

The said boy gapes, practical stars shining in his eyes, "Soccer shoes? Dude, you have to show me some moves in them!"

The two lads scatter off upstairs to Sungchan's room, where you could hear stomping and loud thuds. You remember the first time you caught Sungchan practicing soccer, it was when you had enough with the loud noises and went to complain, only to find your brother covered in sweat with a ball in his arms.

Ever since that day you would help him, whether it was saving up with Jaehyun to get him his first ever pair or driving him to soccer fields and accompany him as he played, you've grown used to all of it (and grown to love it as well).

Jaehyun comes in the room with the collection of Christmas movies he had stocked somewhere deep in his room, you wouldn't dare going in there. Last time he had even cleaned it up or even actually lived there, he was in his angsty teenage days. There was no way you would go in there.

"Okay, what do you guys want to watch?" He stops right in front of the TV with 5 DVD's in his hands, observing each one with contemplation. "We've got A Christmas Carol, Home Alone, Polar Express, Love under the-"

"Oh God, not Love under the Christmas table!"

You snicker at Sicheng's upset tone as he slumps in his seat, rolling his eyes, "Ten's forced me to watch it soooo many times. And it's so cheesy too!"

"Jae has it just because of his girlfriend~" Jaehyun groans at your words, pointing a finger at your face in betrayal, "You promised not to tell anyone!"

This is what you like about Christmas, getting back together with family and friends, it's affectionate moments like these that you miss. You miss teasing your brothers. But the fact if it happening so rarely and only 3-4 times a year makes it extra special when you do.

"Shotaro! Sungchan! We're gonna watch some movies, what do you guys want to watch?"

At the mention of a movie marathon, both young boys look at each other briefly, before somehow telepathically agreeing on racing to the couch. They land next to you with belly-flops and giggles, hitting at one another as they shift comfortably in their seats.

"How about A Charlie Brown Christmas?" Jaehyun suggests with a friendly smile, looking up to the two boys for their confirmation. You thought they would agree, even you would, but apparently they had different plans.

Shotaro deadpans at the childish option, "Are you serious? What's a Christmas movie night without starting with Polar Express? I swear you adults have no taste." There's a nod from Sungchan, as he nudges for his best friend as some kind of hyping up action. They stop and laugh mischievously for a moment, elbowing and knee bumping, you don't understand at all. You miss having friends as a child.

You try to stifle your laugh at the look on Jaehyun's face, but you seem to fail so, a small snicker coming from you as he selects Polar Express with dark eyes. Your brother walks to his empty armchair, plopping down with a deep sigh.

Maybe Sungchan and Shotaro are right, Christmas marathons must start with Polar Express, It's just how it is. Or maybe A Christmas Carol, but that scared Sungchan so it's no longer and option.

At this point, you don't realize your mother and boyfriend walking in the living room from the kitchen, where your boyfriend insisted on helping with the dishes, the movie already captivating your attention as you stare at the familiar scene you've watched just so many times already. Donghyuck flops to the far left, next to Yuta, and instantly melts into the warm atmosphere, his attention adverting to the TV screen as well.

It's just halfway through the long movie when both young boys completely pass out, of course they weren't going to last that long. Shotaro is leaning on your shoulder, mouth open with small, quiet sneers pouring out his lips peacefully. Your younger brother is leaning forward next to his friend, occasionally nodding awake but falling asleep only seconds later.

You want to reach out past Shotaro and bring his head to your lap or something, but that would just wake the young boy on your shoulder. Instead, you just keep an eye out for him, and make sure to always check up on him.

Just to your luck, Donghyuck notices as well all the way from the other couch, and decides to take action when Sungchan almost face-plants to the floor. He swiftly stands up to pick your brother up to replace himself in the spot, and drape Sungchan's body over his as he secures him in a warm embrace.

At first, you're shocked and taken aback, Donghyuck was always unexpected but you never would have thought he'd cuddle your brother. It's a warming sight to see, 2 important people in your life being so comfortable and affectionate despite knowing each other only for a short span of time.

Donghyuck rubs Sungchan's back with care when he shifts in his embrace, eventually pressing his plush cheek flush against his shoulder, lips puckering out adorably.

A sudden wave of gratitude splashes over you like the waves washing up on the shore, towards nobody in particular. You're just very grateful for the fact that you have such a nice family, a warming family that will always welcome you with open arms whenever, grateful to Jaemin who introduced you to Donghyuck, grateful for having a chance to be in such an atmosphere.

This Christmas is very special to you, your boyfriend and your family meeting, you honestly thought they wouldn't like him that much, but now you're pretty sure they love him more than you do.

#nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 #lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck fluff #lee haechan #collabs!#nct 127 x reader #fullsun #lee donghyuck imagines #lee donghyuck scenarios #lee donghyuck x reader

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

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can we get the bullies with a male slasher s/o?

I swear like-

I swear I already did something like this?? But maybe no??¿? XD

So anyway- Alright boo, let me see what I can do- Sorry but I decided to take liberty and… Make this one be very stupid XD

TW/Tags: killer reader :3 // mentions of death // mentions of h o r n i n e s s // I have no like- Idea how to make this work so- Let's just go with it lol // low-key based on dbd, although I never played the game I know only a bit about it- // REALLY silly :P

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Horror Movies Cliches [Yandere!Bully OCS x M!Slasher!Reader - Headcanon]:

🎇 Let me set the stage for a quick sec!🎇

Let's just create a bit of context- Imagine the most over the top horror movie cliche you can think off- Some teens, hanging around a haunted place, everyone is organizing a creepy party while also trying to prank one another. The twins are part of this party because duh- They're popular? Rich? Pretty af? Everyone wants a piece of them tonight, especially you.

Although technically, not in the same way the horny bastards around here want to. While some are trying to impress them, and others try to prank them and humiliate them for at least once in their lives- You're looking for something more, well, important. You were done with being the one left behind, always ridiculed by the twins and their mob of "friends".

You wanted nothing more than sweet revenge tonight, and it didn't matter which rich asshole's blood would be spilled tonight- And even if your plan wasn't exactly foolproof, you were still going to go down and smash their skulls.

With a mask covering your face, gloves to cover your fingerprints and a baseball bat- You were ready for your first hunt tonight. What could ever stop you if not God itself?

Maybe you didn't calculate all possibilities of what could go wrong today, perhaps you should have considered that you weren't the only one bloodlusty in this party.

→ Adrien Coldwell:

Adrien is not really a- Adrien is-

What can I say about Adrien? Adrien is not the best at survival, or trying to survive, or wanting to survive-

Adrien is too lazy for this- He doesn't really put an effort in trying to hide himself, since he is sold 100% that this is just another prank. The only thing stopping you from finding him and smashing his bones is his natural luck which is conveniently protecting himself from being found.

God, this party is boring.

You would probably find Adrien by accident, just- Eating some snacks as all the other participants of the party were already dead. However- You weren't so lucky when you tried killing him right there, he ran away before you could grab him.

Now noticing how real the situation was, he was ready to find any means of communication to call for help, but it seems like all possible means of easy and quick communication has been cut off.

Adrien can either hide and pray for someone to come help him, or try to fight you off and stop you from hunting him. And of course he ain't fucking attacking you, what do you take him for?? Insane?? Dumb?? Nah bitch, he is hiding.

Up until this point, Adrien had no idea you were the one behind the mask. He thought you were a random creep that went insane and decided to take his anger out on some rich people- Which could mean he is half right and half wrong!

But honestly though, you're the last person that he imagined being capable of killing so many people in one night! He didn't even know you were invited to this party, which makes this so unfortunate to him, he could be wearing a cuter outfit if he knew you would be here!

One would assume that after showing their true identities to their victims before their death would cause their victims to become even more frightened and beg for mercy!- In your case though? Nah, that ain't happening.

Adrien is treating this situation with much seriousness as one would imagine he would- With none. Knowing that you're the one killing everyone with a bat is kinda pathetic if not hilarious to him.

After all, it's just "you". What evil can you do? Honestly, you came all the way to this place to make him "pay for his actions"?? Don't you have anything better to do on a Saturday night, honey?

To be fair- He kinda digs the "unhinged maniac" look you have going on, blood suits you so well. Hell! He bet it would suit him just as well too.

Your night was supposed to be one of pure gore and carnage, revenge against those that have harmed you- Yet here you are, being flirted with by Adrien, who is getting a little too into the "killer x victim" dynamic going on.

Ugh, you don't feel in the mood anymore… It feels so wrong when he keeps flirting about it.

In the end, you two have inverted the roles in a way. You were trying to get away from Adrien who was chasing you and making you embarrassed with as much flirting as possible.

Such an unfortunate night.

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

Alexandra would think this is all an elaborate spooky prank, yet she would be lying if she said she didn't find this all…. A bit too much.

No, s-she isn't scared! Just frustrated that this party sucks! It's so immature to just- Try to humiliate her by making her scared! Is such a low move.

Alexandra wouldn't do much effort into hiding since she doesn't think there is any danger nearby. You would have found her very early on, and you can imagine how frustrating it was to see her escaping from your grasp- You have forgotten how athletic Alexandra is, of course she would have ran away faster than you could snatch her.

Now noticing how real the situation was, she was ready to find any means of communication to call for help, but it seems like all possible means of easy and quick communication has been cut off.

Alexandra can either hide and pray for someone to come help her, or try to fight you off and stop you from hunting her. And of course she'll be fighting you- Pfft, what? You think she'll chicken out?? You literally made her break her nail- You psycho!

Up until this point, Alexandra didn't know you were- Well, you! She thought you were some random ass psycho trying to ruin some teens party for some "revenge" bs. So maybe she was half right, and half wrong!

Alexandra would have never ever imagined that you were the killer! Were you even invited to the party?? Why has nobody told her? She could have chosen something more cute for you, damnit!

Alexandra just laughs it off and treats it like every school day- Belittling you while all's giving mix signals of affection.

She isn't afraid anymore, why would she? You're just a little wimp who thinks that getting a wooden bat and dark clothes makes you scary. Dearest, you have forgotten who is the bigger dog around here-

You wasted your whole night just to make her terrified? Honestly, you need a better hobby- Obsessing over your bully is such a loser move on your part, although she would be lying if she said she doesn't appreciate the fact you care so much about her.

Alexandra was getting a little too interested into this "roleplay" going on- Wanting to be your final girl, after all it didn't sound half as bad. Maybe she has been a little too into those slasher fanfics she has been finding around- But damn, you look almost acceptable while drenched in blood.

Her lack of care or empathy towards those who have been brutally killed, while also drooling over you, reminds you that- Honestly? Fuck this. You should have expected a Coldwell to be a morally fucked up person- Why are you surprised?

You've been trying your best to go back home, but being constantly followed by an overly affectionate Alexandra is just as bad as being humiliated by an overly sadistic Alexandra. You got no rest that day.

Such an unfortunate night.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere twins #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc headcanon #yandere x male reader #yandere bully #yandere bully x male reader #yandere bully x reader #yandere bully x killer reader #killer reader #male reader #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request

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