#which will be the absolutely opposite of the one where everything is haunted and filled with ghosts

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 - Self-Aware AU

Headcanons about an Alternate Universe in which everyone knows they're living inside a videogame. However, Vertin is the only one aware of the entity inhabiting her own mind, the real conductor - the "Player".

this is one of my favorite AUs to slap on whatever media I'm into so here we are <3 not sure if anyone's done this already, but PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE link me if you've seen any other ppl write for this AU! this one and any actor AUs are my absolute fave

this is just a word vomit introduction for fun, to get the basic ideas out of my head, so I can start writing for characters individually!

Okay, okay! First of all, some context for the AU before I go deranged overexplaining my HCs!

Aside from the "Storm", there is something else that haunts the people of this world: the fact that their lives are nothing but a simulacrum, part of a game.

The requirements to obtain this "self-awareness" is unknown. Those within the Foundation believe it's related to their respective "roles", that only the main and relevant characters are given the chance to fully open their eyes to the truth. Those within Manus Vindictae claim that one must be strong enough to break through the fog of complacency and their assigned scripts, to have their full potential unleashed and obtain true liberation. Either way, similar to the "Storm", this is a well-kept secret for a very good reason - everyone wants to have the upperhand.

There is one outlier to this whole system. Vertin is not only aware of the truth of this world, but also of her duty as the eyes and hands of the "Player". She must experience it all for their sake. Or rather, whatever she experiences will be the story that the Player will see.

This applies to her suitcase, the place where the Player's influence increases tenfold, bending everything and everyone to their will through her own body and voice. The longer one stays within her suitcase - or within her general vicinity - the easier it is for them to become self-aware.

How does one become "self-aware" and what does it entail?

The requirements and the catalyst for a character to become self-aware are still a mystery. But that's mostly because I specifically wanted to keep them as vague as possible, to allow some flexibility for NPCs and other characters outside of Vertin's suitcase.

The whole process of gaining sentience or self-awareness is mostly described as waking up from a nightmare, or a very, very realistic dream. It's like a switch, something that happens in a second without any warnings whatsoever.

I like to think that most of the people who wake up are easy to spot, because it's a jarring experience and panicking is the most normal reaction - but that they're often taken care of by the Foundation or recruited by Manus Vindictae.

The levels of awareness also depend heavily on each individual - some only know that nothing is truly real, that everything they've done up until that point was just a carefully scripted lie, the most basic realization. Others can understand the rules that govern this game and use them to their advantage, either through observation and study or just inherently.

Overall, the experience of being sentient varies as well, with some describing a disconnect from their body, while others feel exactly the opposite. Again, keeping it pretty vague so that people can fill in with their own ideas!

I'll talk about Vertin's case in detail when we get to her specific bullet point, but the same way the Player is able to experience the "story" through her eyes, she's able to see the same things they do - this includes the UI, the menus and everything you can interact with in-game.

Vertin as a character and a vessel for the Player.

The most common thing I've seen in self-aware AUs in my years of fandom is to turn the player stand-in (the main character that serves for the player to experience the story through and/or project onto, depending on the genre of the game) into an obstacle, one that keeps the characters from truly interacting with the Player, capital P.

The second most common thing I've seen is to simply ignore the existence of this player stand-in and replace it with the Player themself, either through isekai methods or thanks to the customization the game allows, etc etc.

When it comes to Vertin in this AU, I know I want her to retain her role as the center of everything, instead of being sidelined by the Player. She's THE Timekeeper, after all.

There's still some details I'm trying to iron out, like whether she's always been self-aware or if she became self-aware at some point during her childhood at the St. Pavlov Foundation. But I like to think that her relationship to the Player is a parallel to her immunity to the "Storm" - neither of these two things are inherently good nor bad. Surviving the "Storm" is helpful, sure, but it's painful for her. Having an entity like the "Player" haunting her is scary, sure, but it can be an advantage. It's a matter of how she utilizes the assets she was given, since her adaptability and determination are big aspects of her character. Vertin makes up for her mediocre arcane skills with unconventional plans and strategies.

But this isn't to say that Vertin isn't affected by the presence of the Player. Ironically, she's the one person whose freedom is limited. During battles, her skills and Tuning are available to you, they can also prove to be vital to win a fight, but in the end you're still the one calling the shots and choosing when her friends get to attack. You're the one choosing the layout of the Wilderness. You're the one picking which one of her friends deserves to become stronger.

In the last bullet point I mentioned that some characters can understand the rules of the game - Vertin is the most extreme case, as she can see the same UI as you do. She learns the way you like to fight your battles, your own strategies, she can see this and more.

Overall it's a very complex dynamic. It's not as easy as saying that she likes or dislikes you, that she considers you a friend or foe. You're part of her, you influence each other in many aspects and are stuck together for reasons she can't even fathom. While you may be able to read her thoughts most of the time, she becomes invisible once you enter the suitcase - the main menu of the game. Sure, the character you selected to greet you every day is actually talking to her, not you, but she's out of your view and therefore, out of our range. That's when Vertin wonders the sort of person that you are, if you care about her friends as much as she does. Are you playing just to be entertained? Are you invested in these events? Will you be there for her until the end of her story?

Another detail I like to think about is that Vertin is the only one who knows your name. Because at the very beginning, you were asked to input a name and she was there.

[screenshot was taken from this video, since it's the first one I could find that showed this specific part of the game lol]

Well, "your name" not quite right - she knows that whatever you wrote there is the name linked to your account, at least. And that's the name she knows you as.

Those who take residence in Vertin's suitcase or spend prolonged amounts of time with her, growing closer to her and all, end up becoming self-aware. This is a direct side-effect of your presence.

I like to think that characters who reach the 100% Bond can begin to sense the Player, to see the world in a similar way as Vertin does. Maybe even feel their presence EXACTLY like Vertin does whenever there's a battle. There is someone else on the other side of this screen, the fourth wall, who watches over them.

To some, it's hard to differentiate Vertin from the Player, as they just go hand in hand - but Sonetto, for example, has the easiest time telling the two apart.

On the subject of freedom and acting out of script.

The Foundation, Manus Vindictae, Laplace... It doesn't matter if they're self-aware and acting outside of what their script dictates, because they're missing one key ingredient: you. No one else but Vertin and her group knows about your existence, after all.

They don't know that the only story that matters is the one that Vertin is part of. The one that the Player gets to see and read and experience. And because the game gives you a very limited view into the lives of these characters, you don't know what neither Arcana nor Constantine do behind the scenes. You and Vertin don't see that, therefore, it never truly mattered.

Those most likely to start "acting out" are the troublemakers within Vertin's suitcase. Characters who are too curious for their own good, who are more susceptible to supernatural entities, who are just too impulsive - they would start to test the limits and see how far they can go, how much they can interact with the Player. Can the game be broken should they end up shattering the fourth wall? Is there a way for the Player to communicate with them? What will happen to Vertin?

I like to think that Vertin probably supports this, as she's rather curious herself, prone to questioning everything. She would also like to learn more about the Player, to truly tear into the game and see the full extent of your influence and her freedom.

Sometimes, Regulus and X will change their usual voicelines, just enough to be noticeable if one pays enough attention. Characters like Sotheby or Leilani might slip up and address the Player, rather than Vertin. Lilya, Pavia, Bkornblume have new animations and different expressions, ones you've never seen before - they stare ahead, as if searching for something, and then smirk or hum to themselves, deep in thought, like they realized something you're not privy of.

Sometimes, if you leave them as your selected assistant on the main menu, you can catch them muttering to themselves - idle quotes you never heard enough, about the outside world. Diggers does this the most, it's almost embarassing how easy it is to catch him talking nonsense, followed by Sonetto. If you leave Medicine Pocket alone for too long, you might come back to a screen covered in weird scratch marks.

On the subject of these characters being curious about the outside world and all, I think that a good chunk of them are generally content with the way things are?

We have to remember that in-universe, they're arcanists displaced from their respective eras. Their best chance at surviving is siding with Vertin, and if Vertin is content with the way things are, then there's no point in trying to disrupt what they have right now. They're curious enough to prod, but only as far as Vertin allows it.

And I think that's it for the word vomit!

There are some details I didn't know where to fit in, like the possibility of the fourth wall slowly dissipating the more time the Player invests in the game, leading to some characters being able to directly hear you if you talk while playing and whatnot. Or what would happen should someone outside of Vertin's suitcase figure out the existence of the Player, let alone interact with you in some way.

Or the concept of death being meaningless, unless it was pre-established by the game itself.

In Borderlands, there's this game mechanic where you can just be revived over and over and pay a percentage of your money as a fee, even though the canon that's established is that you play through the whole story without dying a SINGLE time - because the revival mechanics aren't canon. There's the divide between story and gameplay. That's pretty much the standard. But what about the deaths in battles in R1999? The amount of times I died to 1.3's UTTU's Flash Gathering is insane. How do self-aware characters feel about this, now that they know that they're bound to die over and over and be brought back because you have to do your Pneuma Analysis or reach the final stage of Limbo?

But that's pretty much it for now, I think I got most thoughts out of my system! Thank you for reading!

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #self aware au #'mod six what are you going to do with this AU?' #probably write more reader inserts for FMN and pavia lmfao #i just wanted it out of my brain and onto a post #i like to think about things in-depth but thats it #and just like the hanahaki nsr au. feel free to fuck around with this concept! discuss it or make up your own HCs! #tag me if you wanna bc i love to read. but no need to credit me

[mediocre-daydreams]

(prologue) wild heart | bucky barnes x reader

a bird in flight

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: hopping from town to town, you’ve been trying to escape the bad luck which haunts you. when you arrive in nyc; suddenly, your curse becomes a curiosity of tony stark, and you are inducted into the avengers. for a small town girl, your first introduction makes a big impact on bucky. literally.

warnings: swearing (there will probably be swearing in every chapter i can’t resist myself)

w/c: 1.5k

rhiannon rings like a bell through the night

and wouldn’t you love to love her?

takes to the sky like a bird in flight

and who will be her lover?

“-and who’s that?” you point out absentmindedly to wanda, who’s delighting in giving you a tour of the new compound.

“oh, him? that’s bucky.” she nudges you with her shoulder as you pass by the gym, taking a few extra seconds to peer through the glass doors at the man dancing gracefully in a sparring match with who you presume to be captain america. captain fucking america, you think. it’s all setting in now. i’m ogling a hundred year old man who just so happens to be the figurehead of a more progressive america work out while getting a tour of the avenger’s compound by who may just be the most powerful woman in the world. what next, am i gonna be besties with tony stark? or start talking to animals?

you could’ve predicted none of this. for the entirety of your life, (up until now, obviously), you hadn’t been remotely associated with the avengers. you had never met one, or become a fan (with the exception of black widow, who you secretly harbored a crush for throughout your late teenage years), or even considered applying to be a SHIELD agent when they began re-releasing training applications. when you first left your childhood home, a small town comprised of farmers, local craftspeople, and sprawling hills, you never saw yourself in a big city. you’d grown up in the opposite. as much as home was beautiful, you’d always been an outcast; “bad luck,” is what people considered you. it wasn’t your fault, or your intention, or even something you’d been consciously aware of, but in a town as small as yours, people began connecting the dots when they realized the only constant between the freak fires, car accidents, injuries, and even missing pets was you. anywhere you went, tragedy struck.

so you left, sick of the blame and accusations for things you were absolutely certain you had no involvement in. you’d hopped towns for almost 6 years before coming to new york, where people went for new beginnings. but the townspeople were correct, weren’t they? there was no way that many accidents could be coincidental. you wouldn’t be able to find a new beginning or escape from your past when the cause of all your struggles (and everyone else’s) had always been you.

“bucky? what kind of name is bucky?” you snorted. maybe that was a little unladylike, but you’d given up on first impressions long ago after realizing everybody would eventually come to the same conclusion about you in the end.

“it’s short for buchanan, which is his middle name. he and steve? they used to be best friends before, well, everything.” wanda waved her hands around as if her nonsensical gestures would fill in the gaps. you got the point. “bucky’s real name is james barnes; you’ve probably heard of him or seen at least seen him in a footnote or something—he was a sergeant in WWII, howling commandos, yada yada,” wanda rambled.

“i… didn’t know that, actually,” you confessed. wanda looked surprised. “i grew up in a small town—i mean really small town—and we didn’t really do that standardized education thing. it was more like trade school, so i’m a little behind on my WWII fun facts, but what i can tell you is how many inches deep you should bury strawberry seeds for maximum growth.”

wanda giggled. “you know, i’ve never met anyone like you. i guess we don’t have a lot of small town folk in the compound, and if so, nothing quite like what your hometown sounds like. it’s… refreshing. and i’ve been begging steve to start a garden with me—he’s got a fantastic eye for color, i think he’d be a great florist—but nobody’s interested. maybe you’ll finally be my big break!”

you smiled. “y’know, i’d love that. if i’m honest, i’m… nervous about all this. i still don’t really understand why or what or how or when,” you waved your arms around just like wanda had a few minutes ago, “this all happened. one minute i’m looking for roommates in canada and now tony stark wants to meet me? i’m-” you sighed. “is it okay if we go up to see him now? i don’t even know if i’ll be staying here, wanda. i really don’t know much about this at all. but i would love to see the rest of the compound after, once i find out what this is all about. and if i’m… staying. god, that’s insane, isn’t it?”

wanda opened her mouth to answer, but instead, her eyes caught sight of something behind you. perhaps a bit too late, you turned and realized the door to the gym was opening with you right in the path of impact. the man with the tousled hair, who you had just learned was bucky, was distracted as he dug through his gym bag for a water bottle, and hadn’t bothered to look up as he reached for the door. you could see captain ameri— no, steve— grab his friend’s arm, but a second too late. the door swung open and you were shoved against the side of the wall as the air was knocked out of you.

“fuck,” you muttered, feeling around your body to make sure you hadn’t splintered into pieces and crumbled into dust at the strength of a super-soldier flinging a door onto you.

“holy- i’m so sorry!” to his credit, bucky was quick to abandon his water bottle search and rushed to your side, grabbing your arms with less force than you’d expected from a man who was just trying to beat up captain america, to inspect for bruises or cuts.

“aha,” you panted, having not quite caught your breath or processed the situation. “yeah, no worries! i’m totally fine. uh, it happens to the best of us?”

bucky looked up at you strangely, and suddenly, you caught the gaze of the most startling blue eyes you’d ever seen. his furrowed brows and the crease between them loosened slightly as you tried giving him a reassuring smile. you put your hand on his shoulder, squeezing as if to silently say, “i promise.” his empty, dazed stare goaded a small laugh out of you. bucky swore your laugh was the most wonderful thing he’d ever heard. it wasn’t like bells—the delicate, silver, christmassy ones that men always seemed to love describing girls’ laughs as. no, your laugh was like the bicycle bell his sister, rebecca, used to ring as she rushed past the neighborhood, delivering newspapers. your laugh was like the church bells he’d fallen asleep to in his old brooklyn apartment, on nights when steve was running a fever and he’d look to the sky and pray to the stars that his best friend would be alright. your laugh was like the ship’s bell that pulled him away from his family during the draft, like a new beginning he wasn’t sure if he really wanted but regardless, had no choice in the matter.

unbeknownst to either of you, wanda and steve were exchanging similarly strange looks. “are you seeing this?” wanda mouthed to steve, who nodded, wide eyed. bucky was never one to accept physical touch, especially not from people who he’d just met. he was even wary of steve’s touch. but he didn’t give any sign of moving or indicate discomfort; he didn’t even flinch.

bucky made no effort to move, captivated by the mysterious, smiling stranger he had just assaulted with a door. there was something about you that made his stomach churn. there was something about you that screamed trouble.

“alright, we should probably get going,” wanda announced, grabbing your hand and tugging you to your feet. whatever silent interaction you’d just exchanged with bucky was broken immediately as you both scrambled to stand. from the new position, you finally saw how much taller the two super soldiers were. just over 6 feet, steve and bucky towered over you and wanda. but unlike steve’s welcoming, sunshiney presence, bucky seemed cold and brooding. you didn’t even want to meet their eyes, a little embarrassed to be looking up at them.

“right, yeah, that’s a good idea.” you turned to wanda instead, hoping you could get away from never interacting with the pair ever again after that mortifying introduction. wanda waved goodbye to the supersoldiers cheerfully as you trudged a few steps behind her. bucky watched as you stepped into the elevator, not even realizing he’d done so. steve elbowed bucky teasingly.

“she’s a real bird, isn’t she?” steve laughed at bucky’s rare display of infatuation. “have you got a crush? wondering what it’s like to love her, huh?”

“i- i don’t love her! i literally just met her.”

“i never said you loved her, buck. just saying it looks like you’d want to.”

“shut up, punk.”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

lyric explanation:

rhiannon rings like a bell through the night, and wouldn’t you love to love her?

rhiannon draws attention like a bell’s ring through a quiet night, and one cannot help but fall in love.

takes to the sky like a bird in flight, and who will be her lover?

rhiannon was the goddess of birds; thus, she takes off freely of her own will. however, her flightiness and free spirit prevents her from settling down with one lover.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

comment to be added to my taglist!

series masterlist | main masterlist

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #marvel reader insert #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

[unohanabbygirl]

No no no no! Don’t go down the path of lies and secrets again, it’s what caused the Dance in the first place! Jeez you’re just packing in the drama to follow with the coming chapters aren’t you. This chapter was really intense, and I loved every word of it! Finally getting into some lucemond action while getting more into Luke’s mindset on certain things was interesting to say the least. And Aemond’s reaction to Luke kinda freaking out was absolutely sweet even if Luke didn’t fully appreciate it. I’m really concerned with the little big secret between Joff and Luke and hope Joff comes clean before the consequences come back to haunt them. I know you’re building up to it and I don’t want to sound impatient but are we getting close to where the memories will finally make a comeback? I only ask because I am frothing at the mouth for the angst filled chapters that follow. I live off that juicy shit. Also I am amazed by the depiction you gave Luke during his panic attack of how all his makeup and glamor were basically melting off him and turning him into a total ugly mess in a physical manifestation of how he views himself. That was peak imagery.  No tomatoes for you, just sweet lip glossed kisses. :)

Thank you babes!

I enjoyed writing Aemond comforting Luke for a multitude of reasons. One of which being to show that Luke is in good hands and while Aemond may be less experienced he surely knows when too far is too far even when tipsy. Comfort and the ability to actually pay close attention to your partners emotional state in the haze of the moment is such an important part of being with someone. It just goes to show that throughout his journey Luke will slowly learn what a healthy sexual dynamic is with Aemond helping to guide.

The secret between these two is going to cause more friction than I think anyone is ready for. It’s peel nack so much work this family has put in to come together and live in peace.

Though Luke is used to keeping secrets and lying his way through tough situations no matter how heavy they weigh in his shoulders, Joff is the complete opposite. Looks aside he’s truly just a kid who’s never withheld secrets from his siblings or parents a day in his life. Especially something as traumatic as what he saw was about to happen if he hadn’t found Luke in time. The poor boy not only has to deal with the weight of beating a man into unconsciousness but also knowing his brother has been sexually abused. It’s truly too much for such young shoulders to bear.

And yes! Since we’ve hit the halfway point in the story we’re closer now more than ever to the point of Luke remembering. The angst will be everything you’ve ever dreamed of because theres a big chance Luke will walk into his court date not just as Luke Rivers but Lucerys Velaryon as well.

Being made to spill his deepest secrets under oath to a court of dozens including your family and lover? Yea, that’s going to be painful.

Also, I was inspired by that scene in ‘The Orphan (2009)” where Esther’s advances were rejected by her foster father and so she flees to her room all while black eyeshadow and liner slowly seems to melt away with her tears. She spent time getting dolled up all for it to wash away in such a heavy moment of rejection and anger. Its such an eerie scene and I’m so happy you think my little rendition is worth praise.

I accept all kisses and return them 10x 🥰

#asks

[jacksgreysays]

60) things you said as the bottom dropped out; for your OCs or whatever you feel like

I’m gonna be honest anon, I think this prompt fill will actually be more of an outline/planning/ideation.

Because I’m gonna be even more honest, I did have to look up what “bottom dropped out” means. Like… I had a vague idea I knew what I meant but then I second guessed myself and looked it up to make sure because it’s not a phrase I use/hear often. But, for those who are also not sure, the bottom dropping means something ends/goes awry 1) suddenly and with the option of doing so 2) worse than it has ever been before. So not just abruptly hitting rock bottom but also maybe plunging straight through to the crust of the earth.

Which is hilarious.

I also appreciate you for requesting one of my OCs and/or whatever whim may take me which does make this… very open ended on who gets absolutely destroyed and what they say while being so but also means it’s so open ended that I have to ideate what I would write about.

I was also thinking that the particular phrasing evokes the sense of falling, which should be obvious, but… how do I put it… while the bottom of a boat disappearing would put its passengers in a bind the idea of them falling into water doesn’t seem as abrupt. Or, like, doesn’t evoke falling necessarily. Then I was thinking, a step to the side, what about an airship? But that involves a good chunk of world building which isn’t where I’m at for the moment.

And also, I shouldn’t take it so literally.

So, what do you say the moment of the worst thing suddenly happening to you? Let’s see…

If I go through my OCs, my usual go to is, of course, Tetsuki but weirdly enough nothing bad happens to her so suddenly and that she can’t mitigate/recover from. After that is Leanne, but in an equal and opposite problem, bad things are happening to her almost constantly, and also nothing is the absolute worst she’d be subjected to because the purgatory that is her existence is already the bad ending (in as much as a time traveler can have an ending)

And of course I have other OCs but…who has their entire world ripped out from under them all at once…

Ohhhhh, oh noooooo, I know who it is: it’s Curtis/Apex from Twelve Sessions.

It would be about the fight that effectively wiped out the rest of the team—Brian/Griever is dead, Alvin/Silverfang is not dead but definitely unable to continue vigilantism somehow, Leanne/Anachron is lost to time (again), Joy/Jaguar’s fate is uncertain she’s probably not dead but definitely not going to continue vigilantism.

The problem is, while I do know what he says before the fight I don’t know what he would say during the fight and I also don’t actually happens in the fight since the point of Twelve Sessions is the more human/vulnerable side of superheroes having to face consequences of being a superhero. Anyways, he would definitely say something encouraging like “We got this” before the fight and then everything goes bad and it becomes a horrible irony that haunts him forever even when he does eventually heal and forgive himself.

So then is there anyone else?

In the same superhero trend, I was thinking of maybe a Tim Drake fic because he is one of my faves and he truly did have one of the worst years of existence if I’m remembering right in which basically everyone he loved died and then Robin was taken from him, but that’d basically be the whole fic and that’s just retreading old ground?

My brain did then jump to DoS since I had already crossed the fanfiction line even though you had specifically mentioned my OCs, but Shikako so very frequently is hit with extremely unfortunate events that she then so often adapts and lands on her feet if I go back to the falling interpretation as a metaphor. BUT THEN, I remembered I do have my own DoS OCs: specifically Shikako’s genin students. And while they’re learning to be as adaptable as her and as casually irreverent about the most bizarre situations, I think that largely depends on her being there. So for them, the bottom dropping out would be something that removes Shikako from the equation.

But wait, didn’t I just say she always lands on her feet? And yes, she does. At this point I would say recursive fic of her almost always has the implicit agreement that she wins/lives/survives/succeeds/protects the people she wants to. Which I do love and would love to hold to. But then I harkened back to ask box fake fic title prompt, Edge Of The Stars in which Shikadai tries to solve the mystery of his missing aunt and it turns out it was aliens/a Stargate.

Which… I still don’t know anything about the Stargate franchise. But the concept still holds: everyone is still alive and I’m sure she’s kicking ass and taking names wherever in the wide universe she got sent to, but as far as the people who love her are concerned Shikako disappeared and never came back.

So a fic in which her students—whether or not they’re still genin (probably not, tbh, considering their sensei’s fast tracking)—cope with her disappearance and really dig down to the core of what she taught them. Because another literal interpretation of the bottom dropping out is that the foundation is what fails or disappears even before the falling even happens.

But I’m also realizing that fic would just be me rambling about those OCs going from students to adults in the absence of their teacher when the more interesting story would be… where the hell IS Shikako and what is she doing?

Like… maybe I’m just overanalyzing the prompt, but I’m trying to figure out which is the most fun part: is it the foundation disappearing? Is it the person falling? Is it the person hitting rock bottom and then dealing with that?

#jacksgreyson #anonymous #ask box advent calendar #prompt response #brainstorm #twelve sessions #edge of the stars

[mjvnivsbrvtvs]

lick his hand, antony

#a friend of mine wrote a short comic script and it has spawned a few sequels of decreasing seriousness #this has nothing to do with this half finished illustration im just thinking about brutus and porcia #at the same time turning to each other in bed and going 'caesar has to fucking die' because they think he's annoying #anyway im very touched that a friend wrote a comic script and thought to send it to me 🥺 #after several months im finally done doing the rough draft for it lmao #it will be the foundation for an attempt at a lighthearted comedy 'verse #which will be the absolutely opposite of the one where everything is haunted and filled with ghosts #and next to the hollywood one which exists for aesthetics only #antony in the all white armor so that the bloody hand prints at actium will stand out #brutus in all black because you were correct to never fully trust a righteous man #technically an art tag #gabriel draws julius caesar

[sisterlelianas]

another life (oh, if only you knew)

ao3 link

this is a “small” (🤡) one-shot where our lady alcina dimitrescu meets the woman who ends up being her future lover for the first time before she’s turned into a vampire. they meet again, centuries later and are both unprepared to face each other, in their own way. In other words: they are gay ❤️ + someone tell these two fools how to navigate their feelings for each other, PLEASE 

word count: 10.810 words (yeah, i know)

author’s notes: a huge chunk of this was written before i played the game, meaning most of it (including things regarding Heisenberg’s powers, etc) is not canon compliant, still, i feel like going against canon is a good thing for us, anyway. y’all know what i mean. SO! this one-shot is actually really close to my heart. alcina and the girls live in my head absolutely rent free and i don’t even mind. hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it

p.s. this is the first fic that i have ever posted and written. blame it on our milf

Big, social gatherings were useful in their own, distinct way. Meeting counts, their wives, the countesses... the secret lovers of those same counts, which everyone, but the wives, were aware of... there were plenty of those. Never a dull moment, truly. Attending a party your dear, darling husband organised, however, was a different story. Alcina Dimitrescu was not the kind of woman to be more than glad to step back from her role and allow a man to take the reigns for her, to allow him to play the part of the head of the house. She oftentimes found herself wishing for his... mysterious disappearance. He could even flat out drop dead - she was not picky. 

The overwhelming noise of constant blabbering from her guests was beginning to irritate her, though. Meaningless social affairs were most definitely beneath the Countess - hiding the frown that would frequently settle on the corners of her mouth, after a particularly loud cackle from one of the men, by sipping some wine seemed to be turning into a recurring move for the woman. Everywhere she looked all she could see was uninteresting people playing a part. Acting as if they were all happy to be there. What else was new? The same faces carrying out the same conversations. The worst part was that her husband had the most... particular taste in friends. They were all male, of course, and so incredibly stupid and dull. The kind you look at and just know they won’t be saying anything insightful throughout the entire affair. Men, the Countess mused. What else could you expect from such limited beings? The mere thought of them making her frown deeper, her lips pursing slightly for what seemed like a millisecond. 

Her husband was fuelled by attention - seemed to thrive off it, actually. She turned to look at him from the red, bergère chair she was sitting on and observed his behaviour from afar. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding a golden goblet filled to the brim with red wine. The contents of it would often spill and fall to the floor whenever he would give a hearty laugh or swing his arms around to better illustrate whatever dull-witted point he was trying to make. The goblet was filled to the brim no longer and his cheeks were rosy, meaning he was far from being sober, at that point. It was only a matter of time before she had to step in and chastise him for acting like a fool whose goal seemed to be disgracing House Dimitrescu, something the Countess would never turn a blind eye to. She held on to her own goblet of wine tighter, then. Luckily, it was not made of glass, or it would have shattered.

She exhaled harshly from her nose, once, before a charming, almost musical laugh broke her reverie. She had to keep herself from snapping her head to the side to look at where the sound had come from, making her movements slow and precise instead, so as to not draw attention to herself or her newfound curiosity. Well, well. Now that was a pleasant sight. The sound had come from a woman. An extremely beautiful one, at that. Her hair was brown, braided most elegantly, and complemented her features in a way that was almost indescribable. The warm lighting of the ballroom they were in altered it’s hue, reminding the other woman of free, autumn leaves, drifting gracefully in the wind. The Countess wondered how long the woman’s hair would be if she were to free it from the pins that were holding it in place.

Her dress was red, cut somewhat generously at the front. Bold, for the gathering she was attending, though it certainly made a statement, it would seem. The frame fitting, silken dress appeared to draw the attention of several men, who, of course, barely even bothered to make eye contact with the woman whenever they spoke to her. This made Alcina’s lips curl down momentarily in disgust. Men could truly be such dogs, she thought. 

The brown haired woman captured the attention of every person around her whenever she’d speak, although the smile she wore did not reach her hazel coloured eyes - it had a subtle, mechanical look to it - and her posture was slightly too stiff, as if she studied every move before actually moving. Her smile, her demeanour... it was all clearly forced, but only those who were paying very close attention could see through her mask. The woman’s eyes then shifted downwards when she sipped her wine. She felt a pair of eyes on her - sort of like how you feel when roaming around in a haunted house, you don’t see anything, yet feel everything, only this time, the feeling was more than welcomed. Drifting her eyes upwards, she finally met the Countess’s gaze. Almost like a magnet. How intriguing. She was, indeed, hauntingly beautiful, the mysterious woman thought. 

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, in a way that was almost too cliché. The brunette half-hoped she could relive the moment all over again. She could not look away. They both couldn’t. 

The woman’s lips were still hidden behind the glass of wine, but her eyes told the Countess all she needed to know. They stared at each other for what seemed like centuries and every second of it was absolutely delicious - the brunette didn’t shy away from Alcina’s prying eyes at all, she seemed to revel in the fact that she was the one the Countess was looking at - her chest puffed slightly, her head tilting upwards a bit, and when she finally removed the goblet from her face she had an almost missable smirk painting her soft, red lips, making one of Alcina’s eyebrows arch slightly. Ah, at this rate, the things you could see just by looking into another person’s eyes was almost criminal. 

Their staring contest was, much to Alcina’s chagrin, broken when a particularly loud and obnoxious laugh came from her husband. The fool was probably trying to charm one of his guests for the umpteenth time that evening. Having had enough, she stood up at once and took long strides towards him so as to not allow him to embarrass himself, or, rather, her, any further. The room didn’t fall silent, but several people spoke in a hushed tone as they watched the Countess walk towards the opposite side of the room. The way she moved was almost hypnotic - the skirts of her dress shifted delicately, her face completely still, not betraying any emotions, not a hair on her head out of place. It was almost as if she was floating.

“Beloved,” the sound of her voice evoked an immediate reaction out of her husband, who quickly turned to face her, visibly sputtering, and out of several other people near them. Heads literally turned. 

Everyone knew who was at the helm of House Dimitrescu, it didn’t matter how many parties her husband attempted to throw or how many Counts he tried to butter up. There was only one, and it was not him. It was her. He knew this. She knew this. Everyone did, and playing the part of the good, perfect, respectable wife was beginning to wear the woman down in a way that was borderline dangerous, at that point. Men are technically allowed to rule sometimes, unfortunately. This was not one of those times.

“My dearest wife-“ her husband started, slurring his words slightly. She immediately cut him off by grasping his arm in a way that told him to stop talking, but also looked relatively loving to whoever was watching, “A word,” she was not asking, she was telling. 

The brown haired woman, who had previously captured the Countess’s attention, watched as the couple walked, with their arms linked, towards a secluded part of their castle. She noticed how the black haired woman nodded curtly towards her guests as she walked past them, not wanting to be a poor host despite being displeased with her husband’s behaviour. Brown eyes took in the other woman’s.... figure as she walked away. A sight to behold, as she had initially guessed. Her dress hugged all her curves in the most mouthwatering way. It was almost too difficult for one to tear their eyes from her.

In the meantime, the party was simply not the same when she was absent. Like an ever-present energy, not a soul in that room could look at the Countess and mistake her for a person who could go unnoticed. Even if she wasn’t in the room physically, everything had her name written all over it. It was hers. It was all hers. 

 ——

Several moments passed before the Countess and her husband decided to grace the party with their presence once more, still, the brunette immediately took note of it and watched as the other woman navigated the room confidently to greet some of her other guests, never once breaking into a full smile, however. Maybe they just hadn’t earned it.

If she wanted to greet her and leave a lasting impression, before having to leave the party, it had to be now.  

——

“— they are positively dreadful. I cannot bear the sight of them. The man calls himself a painter yet cannot seem to find within himself the ability to paint properly!” a man loudly said, some of the guests laughing along with him. Others at him. Alcina’s facial expression, on the other hand, remained completely neutral with no signs of her cracking a smile anytime soon. The man noticed and, unfortunately for him, made an attempt to mansplain art to the Lady of the House. The group fell silent, uncomfortably so, as the man waited on Alcina to grace him with a response. It did not seem like he was getting one. 

“You are out of your depth, Constantin,” Alcina immediately recognised the lilting voice, looked over her left shoulder and towards the sound. It was her. The phrase was voiced with a hint of playfulness so as to not humiliate the man any further, “Our host knows more about the wonders of the arts than you ever will.” She was standing directly beside Alcina now, yet seemingly refused to meet her gaze, choosing not to break eye contact with the man who dared question the Lady’s knowledge instead.

“In fact,” she inhaled through her nose, pursed her lips - allowing a hint of contempt to escape her for a fleeting moment - and clasped her hands at her front, “I believe we are all uncultured, empty-headed people in comparison, no? Some more than others”, she gave the man a pointed look, making the people around her chuckle in consensual agreement. That’s when she finally turned her head to face the other woman, whose gaze had been boring holes into her head as soon as she had decided to stand beside her. That’s when the brunette noticed that no one else was near the Countess, but all directly in front of her. It was as if she had stepped onto the woman’s stage. The realisation made her bow her head humbly before turning her body to fully face her, “I don’t believe we’ve met, my Countess”, she extended her hand, “Angela Drăculea, I have been meaning to make your acquaintance for awhile, now”.

This time, her smile had reached her eyes, which were now half-lidded. The laugh lines that formed charmingly around them only seemed to become more noticeable once Alcina took her hand in her own and hummed in acknowledgement, “I don’t believe our husbands have met”, she stated matter of factly.

“I beg your pardon?” the other woman said. They were still holding each other’s hands, the feeling sending shivers down Angela’s spine - she even seemed to draw nearer when the Countess spoke, which did not go unnoticed. Like a sailor being charmed by a siren, completely unaware of the perils surrounding such action. Alcina’s gaze refused to leave her own. It soon became intoxicating.

“He would have introduced us by now,” her calming voice said, before finally dropping the other woman’s hand, “Unless you come here uninvited and are a trespasser,” once again, it was not posed as an inquiry, it was as if she was throwing statements at the other woman, gauging her reaction to them.

The brunette squinted her eyes without dropping her endearing smile, “Our husbands have not met, no.” she squared her shoulders, then, and allowed her gaze to drift downwards, towards the Countess’s necklace, though she doubted that that’s what the other woman was  really looking at, “I am afraid I have no husband to introduce in the first place,” she playfully said, giving her a knowing smile and looking into her eyes once more. Angela was good at matching other people’s energy. If they teased, she would tease back. If they taunted, she would follow. If they threatened...

A hint of a smile ghosted Alcina’s lips, “Is that so?”

The atmosphere changed around them almost immediately. Some of the guests even squirmed uncomfortably whilst watching the verbal exchange unfold. It was not a normal conversation by any means. The brunette seemed to be speaking to the Countess for a particular reason. Alcina, on the other hand, was testing her. Watching her. Studying her, in a way that was not totally uncomfortable but also let the other woman know that she was not to be taken for a fool. Even so, their audience didn’t seem to bother this so-called ‘Angela’, Alcina noted. If anything, it only seemed to encourage her. Interesting, she thought.

The woman gave a smile, that was absolutely sinful, and bit down on her bottom lip for a split second. The woman opened her mouth to say something before placing her, now empty, goblet of wine on a round, silver platter one of the servants, who walked past her, was holding, “Indeed,”

“Rather unusual, wouldn’t you say?”, her tone lost all signs of amusement, then, and her expression turned almost sour. The sudden change of heart caught the brunette off guard, but unfortunately to Alcina, she was quick-witted and would not back down easily.

“Some would say so, yes,” her chin tilted upwards almost imperceptibly. She couldn’t stand taller than the other woman even if she tried, however. They were about the same height, Angela was slightly shorter, but the way the Lady of the House carried herself made her look taller than any other person in that room, almost incomprehensibly so, “Some would even go as far as to question my womanhood. Be that as it may... it is not how I see it.”

Alcina’s nostrils flared for a brief second, she had a feeling that the woman before her was about to cross a line that should never be crossed. Not with her. It was as if she was pushing all her buttons just to see if she could. A mistake. Nevertheless, she pressed on, “How do you see it?”, she glowered, daring her to speak her mind.

Angela didn’t look the tiniest bit regretful. It drove Alcina mad. She was a lady, therefore making a scene was absolutely out of the question, but Gods be damned, if the woman in front of her didn’t stay in line—

“Complete and utter freedom.” she cooed. The last thing Alcina expected was for the woman to bend at the waist, then, seemingly choosing to remove herself from the conversation now before it ended poorly, and moved to hold the Countess’s hand in her own once more. She paused, allowing Alcina to remove her hand from her grasp. When that didn’t come, she looked up from under her lashes, not moving from the position she was in, and placed a deliberate kiss on her hand, feeling it tense up under her touch. 

Once they stood at eye level, the first thing Angela observed was the Lady’s facial expression. First, her eyes flashed dangerously. Then, her jaw clenched. But then, and much to the brunettes dismay, Alcina’s face went blank. All terrible signs, when one is making an attempt at courtship, really. No matter though, because the last thing Angela noticed before finally moving away from the Countess were her eyes. One’s body always betrays them, it would seem, for the woman’s pupils were blown and only one word was written all over her face. Desire.

“In another life, perhaps?” was all the infuriating woman said, a soft smile on her face, before finally moving away, turning her back on the Lady and disappearing into the crowd. She left just as the Countess’s husband decided to join in on the conversation he had just missed. Whatever it was that he said, it earned him a hissed out reply from his wife. 

 ———————————————

“My decision is final, there will be no argument.  Remember from whence you came,” was all the priestess had to say for the room to settle down, “Unless any of you provide me with a reason as to why our plan should change, I advise you all spare me your childish, petty squabbles”. Her voice was cold and left no room for disagreement. Heisenberg looked at his sister, his chest puffed and a ridiculously smug grin on his face. There was nothing more she wanted to do at that moment than wipe it off his face. With his hammer, perhaps. 

He had always been an irksome man, yet became even more so after his transformation. Alcina was thankful for the fact that she did not have to deal with his presence on a daily basis. He was like an annoying smell you simply could not get rid of and having to deal with familial issues even after your death felt like a poor joke. He did not respect her. She would have to change that.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” he patronisingly said, bowing to his sister mockingly, “you will not be disappointed”. There was his wolffish grin again. Alcina tsked and moved to stand behind her seat once more. Losing Ethan Winters did not irritate her too much - she did not care for the man nor for his safety - the fact that she was losing him to her brother, of all people, however... Now, that was a different story. It seemed that, even in death, men attempted to reach for things that were not theirs to claim. She knew her brother. His irresponsible nature would end up getting the best of him and she would have to clean up his mess. That’s how it always went. She and her daughters would’ve killed the mortal so much quicker. 

He turned to face the man in shackles then, opened his arms wide and began, loudly, “Lycans and gentlemen, we thank you for waiting! And, now, let the games beg—“ 

He would have finished his speech if he had not been rudely interrupted by the sound of the doors, leading to the old, dilapidated chapel, slamming against the walls, a woman standing on the threshold. She was wearing all black garments, which were softly swaying in the cold, winter breeze, her face fully shadowed and hidden both by her hood and some kind of plain, black material covering the lower half of her face. Not a single hint of skin in sight. Her ensamble was not poor or dirty in the slightest. It was perhaps a bit hard on the eyes, but one could tell it was carefully handpicked by its wearer. Clothes do make others perceive you differently, after all. Whatever it was that she was trying to achieve by dressing in such fashion, it seemed that she had succeeded.

Her posture was straight and one of her, gloved, hands was holding on to some kind of satchel. Everyone in the room was surprised by the sudden interruption, including the mortal, who was now making pathetic attempts to uncomfortably turn and face whatever new threat he would have to deal with later. Everyone looked as if the woman was trespassing. Everyone but the priestess. 

“You have decided to join us after all, I see,” her tone was far from welcoming. It almost sounded as if she was reprimanding the woman, not just for interrupting their meeting, but for showing up at all, “Do you come bearing news?”, once again, her tone was flat, giving away the impression of utter disinterest and boredom. 

Heisenberg was leaning against his hammer and pinching the bridge of his nose with his right hand, probably wondering when he was going to be allowed to play with his food. Alcina, on the other hand, was watching this woman, who had not yet made a sound, carefully. It was almost like they had been interrupted by a ghost. A ghost they were not meant to see. She took the other woman in once more, noticing how she was, surprisingly, not as short as the others around her. Still not as tall as the Countess, but definitely much taller than her brother, for instance. How interesting. 

“My suspicions were correct,” that voice.... where could she have heard it before? Lady Dimitrescu stood taller then, her eyes widening for a split second and her lips forming a thin line before she could keep her facial expressions under check. It could not be, could it? After all those years? 

“You took your precious time,” Miranda critiqued, “what have you learned?”, the room was dead silent, save for a few lycans who were growling lowly at the new guest. All eyes were set on this newcomer, which, interestingly enough, seemed to upset her. Her hand had left her satchel and was now gripping her black cloak, as if she was trying to wrap it around herself even tighter. Only one other person in the room kept most of her body covered - Donna, the head of House Benenviento, but even she was a poor example. One woman was a... grieving daughter, the other was not.

“Our enemy, our true enemy, is one Chris Redfield. He plans to strike from the shadows once we are all too exhausted to retaliate.” Her voice was being somewhat muffled by the material covering her face, but it was clear enough that no one needed to listen closely to understand what she was saying. Even if she looked utterly uncomfortable, her posture did not give that away at all. She stood tall. Proud. She did not cower or shift closer to the shadows, no matter how badly she wanted to. In all honesty, it was not a poor effort, but there was one person who could see right through her. 

“And you know this how, exactly?” Heisenberg drawled. Moving away from his hammer and sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose just to take a better look at the woman.

“He is here. In your village. Roaming around your property. Studying you. Something that is only happening because you were much too busy hunting down this stupid, useless man for sport,” the woman snapped, yet kept the volume of her voice relatively low and her tone neutral, clearly not entertained by the man’s behaviour. Her eyes gave out this orange glow with a red tint to it - they flashed whenever Heisenberg tried to address her. Some curses become a blessing though, because the man’s infuriating demeanour made the woman let go of her cloak, her posture straightening once more, but not out of discomfort this time. 

“Careful, Angela,” the priestess warned, cutting their argument short, “know your place.” it was posed as a warning, not a threat,  but, frankly, Angela had been roaming the Earth for far too long, now, and standing down was not something she was inclined to do. Ever.

“With all due respect, my Priestess, my place is something I am excruciating and painfully aware of.” Angela spat out, her tone making Alcina’s lips curl upwards in acknowledgement for a brief moment. That did sound like the woman she had met on that dreadful party all those years ago. Though she was, obviously, not the same as she once was... in more ways than one.

The room fell silent for the umpteenth time that day and remained that way for a few, uncomfortable seconds. Angela’s chest rose and fell steadily, her eyes never leaving the priestess’s. The awkward, tense moment was broken when the House Beneviento puppet, Angie, coughed once, followed by a small, meek “.... sorry...”. This was going to be a long day. 

“I just want my daughter—“ general grumbles of annoyance and a loud ‘shut the fuck up’ came from the people around him. Well. Maybe that would have to come later.

“You cannot be suggesting we let this man go?” the word was practically spat out, which was definitely in character for Lady Dimitrescu, “For once, I agree with my sister,” was what Heisenberg said, earning him a disgusted look from the Countess. 

“Maybe I have not made myself clear,” Angela turned to face Alcina for the first time in literal centuries, then. The taller woman wished she could see her face, her fingers twitched momentarily at the thought. Still, she refused to let any kind of emotion seep through her mask, opting to pretend to be completely unfazed by their conversation instead. 

The other woman did not seem particularly glad to see her, which sent an uncomfortable feeling through the lady vampire’s chest. This kind of behaviour was not to be rewarded.

.... Surely she had not forgotten her? 

“I suggest we move our efforts towards a more fruitful endeavour, such as doing away with the man who wants to eradicate us. It is entirely up to you, however,” her eyes scanned the taller woman’s face. Looking at her eyes, her hair, the laugh lines around her mouth and, then, settling on her lips before looking away entirely. 

It was strange, seeing her like this. Her fiery personality was, of course, still there, but before the Countess stood a woman who was merely a shell of who she used to be. She had often thought about the woman who had boldly courted her for all to see. Wondered if she had lived a full life. Happy and free, as she was. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. She looked utterly miserable now, which was a clear indication of just how consensual the experiments that were inflicted upon her were. There they stood. What had once separated them centuries ago seemed to separate them now. One was still a caged animal, struggling to get free. 

A pang of something hit Alcina’s chest. That was definitely not a feeling she welcomed with open arms. Some things are meant to be secured under lock and key. Never to be brought up, not once. This was one of those things. 

The woman bowed her head slightly, a sign of respect towards the Countess. Having seen that, Heisenberg made a disgusted sound, immediately destroying whatever moment they were about to have. 

“Fine. If this one goes, I want the other one,” he turned towards Miranda, “It is only fair,” the smug smile returning to his face.

The Houses argued amongst each other whilst Angela stood on the sidelines watching it all unfold. The dynamic between them seemed about what you’d expect from a bunch of dysfunctional monsters whose Mother was hellbent on calling them a family, though it was borderline comical most of the time. Angela pursed her lips and looked away from the scene with disinterest, her gaze landing on the mortal, instead. Funnily enough, he looked more confused than frightened, which almost made the woman’s lips curl up in amusement. His expression was understandable.

She was pulled away from her thoughts when Alcina threw a particularly petty insult at her brother, her eyes flashing dangerously and her booming voice carrying throughout the entire building. Even after centuries having passed, she remained the most strikingly powerful and beautiful woman Angela had ever seen. She took her time observing her then - the way the veins on her neck became more noticeable when she began raising her voice; the way her nose scrunched up in disgust whenever her brother tried to speak to her; the way she scoffed and waved her hand at him dismissively whenever he made another stupid comment. Even so, she remained positively regal throughout the entire verbal exchange. Angela wished for nothing more than to be a painter, at that exact moment, so she could immortalise the Countess as she saw her. Gazing upon her this freely almost felt like a privilege. 

If only she could go back in time, she would have taken her away from that blasted party and her stupid husband and kept her all to herself, though she doubts the Countess would have let her. 

Sighing in relief when Miranda put an end to their fighting for the second time that morning, Angela awaited her orders. She could spend the rest of her days admiring the taller woman, the screaming, on the other hand, was beginning to wear her down. That was when the priestess finally made her decision. Ethan Winters was no longer a priority, though he should not be allowed to leave the village as of yet. This earned her several shouts of protest from the man, who ended up being taken away by two of Miranda’s helpers. 

“Do not stray from the village, Angela. I need you here,” Miranda commanded, “Alcina, take her with you. You are to await further instructions,” her wings fluttered as she spoke. Her demeanour calm, as always. 

Heisenberg’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Angela interjected, “Very well. I will find my own way to the Castle,” and with that, she abruptly turned and walked confidently towards the exit. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible. The amount of eyes on her were making her skin crawl.

“She’s going to walk there?”, Heisenberg scrutinised, glaring at the woman as she left. His sister didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he had said, seemingly lost in thought, which was definitely uncharacteristic of her.

“Heisenberg...,” the priestess warned. The conversation was over. 

 Having realised his mistake, he raised his hands up in defeat, though his eyebrows were still snapped together, either in confusion or irritation. 

——-

Angela could technically use her powers to get to the Castle in the blink of an eye, yet saw fit to do the exact opposite of that. Call it stubbornness or whatever else you wish - she saw her powers as entirely unnatural. Animalistic, even. There was not one thing about her transformation that she had come to terms with over the decades. There was no encore, there was no sense of accomplishment. It didn’t make her feel more powerful. No, there was only blood, sweat and tears. That’s all there ever was. No need to romanticise it. You couldn’t, even if you tried.

She looked up, trying to take in the Castle in all its glory. She wondered what the Countess had done to her husband once she was turned, the thought making her purse her lips in amusement. She didn’t seem particularly fond of the man, so her best guess was that he died an excruciating death. Whether or not he deserved it was not up to her to decide. She got exactly what she wanted, in the end. She was officially the Head of the House, no man holding her back and keeping her from achieving her fullest potential. Good. She deserved it. She deserved all of it.

Yet... facing her now, after all that had transpired? Gods forgive her. She didn’t know if she could take it. 

She walked steadily towards the main entrance, her fist hovering over the flat surface of the door before finally giving it three, strong knocks. The doors were opened by two, frail looking maids who immediately stepped to the side to let her in. Choosing not to give it much thought, Angela walked through the threshold and looked around. It all looked exactly the same. A pang of nostalgia and sadness hit the woman’s chest, but her reverie was broken when the sound of two loudly beating hearts overcame her senses. Her head turned slowly towards the two maids. Their chests were rising and falling rapidly, meaning they definitely saw her as a threat - she didn’t blame them, all they could see were her eyes, and they were not really welcoming, either. Her gaze traveled along the women’s faces yet settled on their necks as soon and she noticed how they had both been... branded. The bite marks were small, so they were not given to them by the Countess. How intriguing. 

“Lady Drăculea,” Ugh, “so nice of you to finally join us,” he sauntered towards her, his hammer resting on his right shoulder, “how was your morning stroll? Not too many corpses on the way, I hope”, he grinned. There were... a lot of corpses, actually. It made her stomach turn, but she would never tell him this, regardless of whether or not he was right. His ego was already too big for his own good. 

“Why do you pester me,” she asked, her tone flat and her mouth twitching downwards when she realised he planned on annoying her even further. Thank goodness her face was covered, that way he had absolutely no way of knowing if he was getting under her skin. 

He gave out a mocking smile and pressed on even further, “You know, I have just been made aware of the most interesting piece of information,” he toyed with the handle of his hammer and eyed the woman up and down, sizing her up. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. 

Angela clenched her jaw, her mouth set in a hard line. She moved to the side in an attempt to walk past him, but he would not let her - sidestepping in front of her whenever she tried to leave. 

“This isn’t your first time in the Castle. You came here once long before you were turned into one of us,” he stated matter of factly. He turned to the side, then, and used his free hand to wave it around, never letting go of his hammer, “this must really take you back. Say,” he moved closer then, his voice barely a whisper, “on a scale of one to ten, how awful was my sister?” there was his stupid grin again. Angela didn’t have the faintest clue as to how he came to know of her past - Alcina certainly had not told him, so that leaves.... who, exactly?

She heard the distinct sound of heels clicking on marble in the distance before finally deciding to give the Countess’s brother a reply, “I remember being bothered by a pesky, little man that evening and I can certainly relate to that now,” she said, curtly, “this feeling brings me back more than the haunting halls of this Castle ever could”, that was when a flash of white entered her peripheral vision. There stood the Lady of the House, in all her glorious beauty, at the top of the stairs. Her left, gloved hand resting on the railing, she seemed to be accessing the situation, trying to decide whether or not she would step in and get her brother in line. The two, poor maids were still standing on the very same spot, not being allowed to leave until the guest moves away from the front entrance and into the Castle. It was, overall, an incredibly uncomfortable situation. 

Heisenberg stared at her blankly at first, but then his face broke into an almost predatory smile. He stepped closer to Angela, who refused to step back, “I am going to tell you this once and only once. Do not test me any further. I am not as patient as the Priestess, dog,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. It looked as if she had grown ten inches taller. Maybe she had. It certainly felt like she had. Heisenberg’s grip on his hammer tightened at the final word the woman spat out, the air around them almost crackling from all the tension. Funny how she was several inches taller than him and yet the man was still  brave, or bold... stupid enough to irk her. She half hoped he would keep going - she needed to release some pent up anger anyway. Heisenberg’s posture stiffened. 

Having had enough of the display of ego measuring, the Countess decided to interrupt their special moment before they ruined her day even further, “That’s enough,” she said, her voice had an edge to it. She was obviously not pleased with their behaviour - they were both just guests in her Castle, after all. She continued then, her voice much more neutral this time around, “Your chambers are this way,” she was speaking to the woman, yet her eyes were trained on her brother. The Countess slowly extended a long arm towards one of the corridors to her right, her movements precise, and her left hand, still resting on the railing, gripped it tighter. 

Angela took that as her queue to finally leave Heisenberg behind, glaring at him one last time before moving away from the door, which put the two maids out of their misery and allowed them to leave the spot they were stuck in moments ago, and going up the stairs. Alcina was still standing near the railing and still eyeing her brother, who now had turned to face the two women, craning his neck slightly to look up at them. Angela watched as the two siblings seemed to communicate telepathically. She didn’t fully understand it, but felt as if it was not something she wanted to insert herself into or interrupt. 

Her brother grunted something under his breath before tipping his hat at his sister and finally walking out. She was asking — no, telling — him to stand down. He was on her turf, now. No one understands the implications of that better than a dog, Angela thought. 

They were alone now and, for someone who was bold enough to flirt with a married Countess at a social gathering her husband hosted, Angela did not seem to be able to meet her gaze. The taller woman enjoyed seeing her squirm, apparently, because they remained silent for a few, long seconds before the brunette was forced to say something to break the ice, “I humbly thank you, my Countess, for your gracious hospitality. It has not gone unnoticed”. Maybe her boldness was not what it used to be, but her courteousness and charm were still very much intact, Alcina noted. 

All that came from Alcina was a soft hum. She stood there, accessing the woman before her. It was almost as if she was expecting something from her - Angela, being the chivalrous person that she was, knew exactly what was missing, but chose to ignore it for the time being, “That way, yes?”, she looked down the corridor Alcina had previously extended her arm towards. She secretly hoped she could simply go looking for the room herself. Standing near the Countess was torture - in the best way possible, of course. 

“Indeed,” came the sharp response. She was not pleased with Angela’s choices leading up to this moment. The Lady’s lips curled downwards, something the other woman missed, since she was not even looking at her to begin with. A mistake. 

Not one more word was said before the raven haired woman turned and began taking long strides towards her guest’s assigned chambers. Angela followed. She always would. 

Clenching her fists to keep herself from drifting her eyes downwards and along the Countess’s frame, arriving to her guest room came as a distraction and was therefore a god given gift. Someone please. Put her out of her misery.

She watched as Alcina opened the, now ridiculously small, door, bending over at the waist to enter the room. Angela had to do the same, only she did not bend as low as her host. The room was elegantly decorated, as was expected, and surprisingly clean.  She wondered just how many maids Alcina actually had and how long it would take scrape the floors clean, let alone dust each and every room off. She was glad she was not in their shoes, to say the very least. 

“I won’t be needing that,” Angela said, flatly. 

She could sense the taller woman’s rising anger, but her statement left the Countess confused enough that she ended up allowing the brunette to keep her head, “A mirror,” Alcina deadpanned. It was posed as a question, but when Angela turned her head to look the woman in the eyes, all she saw was utter disinterest.

“Yes. I would rather not,” she clasped her hands at her front and looked around the room. She should really stop doing that. The way she refused to meet Alcina’s eyes when she spoke to her was beginning to anger her. She could tell. 

“The tone you have been carrying thus far is extremely ill-advised. You are a guest in my Castle. Do not make me remind you again,” her voice was as cold as steel, yet the Lady of the House seemed to show leniency for the second time that morning. If Angela were someone else, her head would probably be on a spike in the Castle grounds. Still, abusing her luck any further would be unwise. 

The shorter woman’s pulse quickened and she bit on the insides of her cheek to keep herself grounded. Turning to fully face the Lady once more, she began removing the garments that were covering her face. First her hood and then her black mask, letting it settle around her neck, instead. 

Alcina’s eyes seemed to immediately absorb the newly exposed features, her gaze scanning her face shamelessly before falling squarely on her lips and on a scar on the left side of her upper lip, which was new to her. Her hair also looked different. Gone was the intricate hairstyle with braids - taking its place was a loose bun. Alcina’s eyes were, once again, the only thing that betrayed her emotions and cracked her mask, for everything else in the woman, from her face down to her posture, was absolutely still and unreadable. Angela was aware of the fact that she looked older. Pale. The agony she felt over the decades written all over her face.

She did not bother to decipher how Alcina saw her now, it was ultimately pointless and she doubted the Countess cared that much about whatever it was that she thought she saw in her. It had been years since the smaller woman had looked at herself in a mirror - she refused to do it ever since her transformation, in fact, which explained her aversion towards them now. 

“Forgive me, offending you was not my intention. It never will be,” her eyes were tired, yet she did not break eye contact with the woman this time, “it was poor of me,” she was visibly choosing her words in the most careful way possible, “I simply need to cover it, is all,” she hoped that her choice of words did not anger her host this time around. She awaited her response

 ...

“Do as you must,” and with that, the Lady left. 

Angela sighed to herself and began looking for spare sheets so she could cover the blasted thing and not have to look at it any longer. Thankfully, no one was there to see her as she struggled to place the sheets over the mirror - not wanting to look at herself as she did it made the affair ten times harder. It almost made her laugh, in fact. It was too ridiculous. A low chuckle resonated throughout the room all of the sudden. It... didn’t come from her. Turning slowly, she was met with a pair of bright, yellow eyes, lurking in the shadows. 

“It would be easier if you turned them to the side and tucked them behind it,” the young woman said, nodding her head towards the sheets Angela was holding. The brunette stared at her for a few seconds before looking down and taking her advice, turning the sheets, placing them over the mirror - though she turned her face to not look at her reflection - and, after a couple of attempts, managing to tuck them behind the damned thing. Finally.

“Well, would you look at that,” Angela mused. 

“That took you way longer than it should have,” the faceless woman deadpanned.

That seemed to catch Angela off guard and she snorted, against her better judgment, before clearing her throat and facing the pair of eyes once more, “I don’t think we’ve met. Angela D—“, she thought about extending a hand to greet the mysterious figure in the shadows, but was interrupted before she could even finish saying her name. 

“I know who you are,” she teased, “Mother has told us all we need to know about you,” she continued. That made Angela’s posture straighten. Us? Mother? 

“I seem to be at a disadvantage, then. The Countess has not told me your name,” Angela countered. She didn’t feel threatened by the girl, still, she seemed clever. And nothing good can come out of Alcina’s children, surely.

The mystery girl left the shadows then and, curiously enough, she did not seem to resemble Alcina at all, yet the way she carried herself did remind her of the Countess. Her calm, yet reserved demeanour almost too close to her mother’s. 

“Bela,” she told the taller woman, her face blank. 

“It is an honour to meet one of the Countess’s daughters,” she bowed her head slightly at the girl. 

“Mother spoke of you often,” the girl told her, apparently seeming to be more inclined towards skipping the pleasantries, “though I must warn you, do not upset her,” monotoned the daughter, “my sisters and I are not kind to those who do.” 

Angela didn’t take it as a threat, though she knew she probably should. Part of her was glad Alcina had such devoted daughters. The other half was amused at the child’s boldness. 

“I understand,” she told her, wanting to reassure her. Upsetting the Lady of the House was definitely not on Angela’s list of things to do, yet she didn’t want her daughters to think that she, a guest, planned on harming their mother. Gods forbid. 

“Good,” Bela finished. As soon as the word was out of her mouth she all but dissipated in front of Angela’s eyes, leaving in her wake a cloud of small insects who disappeared through the cracks in the walls and left the room. Were the cracks there to allow them to traverse the Castle faster...? Angela stood there for a second, trying to understand what had just happened before giving up and shaking her head slightly. Hopefully this day was done with throwing things at her and actually allowed her to finally rest before being summoned by Miranda. 

She was out of luck, it seemed. The nights were always so much harder on her for no apparent reason. At least not one that she was aware of. Before she tried to go to bed and call it a day, she had to ask Alcina for.... a bigger nightdress. It was utterly embarrassing, but thankfully the Countess was kind enough to not make any comments. The maids then gave her a silk nightgown - it didn’t fit her particularly well since the Lady was still taller than her, but it was better than wearing nothing at all. 

She was in bed and staring at the ceiling, her fingers intertwined and her hands resting on her chest. She was tired, but knew that having a good nights sleep was not something that would happen any time soon. Even if she did manage to rest her eyes for a couple of hours, the nightmares would certainly wake her up. She longed for the nights, before her transformation, when she simply had to shut her eyes to fall asleep for as long as she wished. Now she didn’t need to sleep as much, true, but the nightmares proved themselves to be much more than a nuisance. They plagued her almost every night. It frustrated the woman beyond words. 

Choosing to do something else with her “free” time, she got up, put her, or Alcina’s, slippers on, which were also not the right size for her, and left her room. The Castle was not as cold as it appeared to be, for whatever reason, so discomfort was not something she had to deal with as she explored the halls of a Castle she had already been in... in another life. Something caught her eye, then, as she roamed around, taking everything in. A piano. An expensive looking one, at that. She drew nearer to take a closer look, running her hands over the keys without pressing too hard on them so as to not make any sound. It was clean. Not a speck of dust on it. Those poor maids.

She felt a pair of eyes on her again, but the way the energy in the room shifted dramatically told her this wasn’t one of the daughters.

“Do you play?” Angela asked softly, her fingers still running over the surface of the piano. She heard a low hum first - the actual reply came a few seconds later.

“Yes, though it’s been centuries since I last indulged in it,” said the Countess, her tone was almost matching the other woman’s. It wasn’t soft per se, but it was softer than usual. 

“Ah,” Angela let out a bitter, halfhearted chuckle, “the mundane getting left behind once more, yes?”, she rested her hand on top of the piano and turned her head slightly, awaiting the other woman’s response but still not looking at her. 

“You speak of the past most fondly,” Alcina’s tone indicated that she disapproved of such notion, though she was clearly trying to not flat out say it. The comment made Angela’s expression close up immediately and she moved to stand next to a big window, trying to distract herself from the unpleasant thoughts creeping up on her. Ah. The moon and her were well acquainted by now.

“If I could go back in time, I would.” she retorted. That was all she wanted to say on the matter, though she doubted the conversation would end there. 

Alcina was still watching her from the shadows, her gaze trained on her. The scenario reminded Angela of a sinner confessing the unspeakable to a priest. Funny how the Countess was the priest in that situation. The thought had Angela biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. The amusement quickly dissipated from her mind, however, as it often did.

“I have.... regrets. Nothing has meaning now,” the woman confessed, she crossed her arms at her midriff then, her nails digging into her biceps. 

“If you feel as if there may not be meaning, then find one and seize it,” the reply was not meant to sting, but it did nonetheless. Of course she would say that. Why wouldn’t she? 

“It is easier said than done,” Angela said bitterly. The conversation was beginning to turn sour. 

She heard the Lady tsk and then felt her getting closer, her steps almost soundless. She doesn’t hear the telltale clicking of her heels, so she must not be wearing them, “Excuses, excuses,” she was standing right next to her now, though she wasn’t facing the shorter woman. They were both looking out. Facing the moon. Angela found it preferable, that way. Stripping herself of all her walls in front of the Countess was easier if she did not have to stare into her eyes. The shadows served as her shield. The dark making her feel at home. 

They stayed in comfortable silence for awhile before Angela broke it “I still feel it,” she had an almost pained expression, her voice no more than a whisper, “withering away, like a dying ember, and rotting inside me,” 

That made Alcina turn her head to face her, waiting for her to continue. She watched as the woman’s arms dropped, only for her to begin pinching the area between her index finger and thumb with her other hand. It looked painful.

“My humanity,” Silence. Her jaw clenched and her bottom lip trembled for a brief second, not out of sadness but anger, “she took everything from me” she sneered. 

“Mother Miranda only does what is best for us,” Angela wanted to interrupt her before she even had the chance to finish her sentence, but thought better of it. She pinched her hand harder. Alcina noticed. 

“Do not say that. It might be what you tell yourself, but do not say it to me. Please.” Her face twisted in both anger and frustration. She was trying her damnedest not to snap at the Countess. 

“The world could fit in your hands now. Seeing that as a curse and not a blessing is completely unfathomable,” Alcina coldly said. It was almost as if she was daring the shorter woman to test her patience once more. 

 “To you,”

 “To me, and everyone else,” 

Angela knew she could not make the other woman listen. Alcina had everything she had ever wanted - her transformation opened doors for her that would otherwise remain closed. Angela could understand that and was glad that the Lady of the House belonged to no one but herself. Still, that’s not how she saw it. Angela was taken, against her will, and experimented on by a woman whose only goal was to take what made Angela herself, turning her into one those.... things. And for what? What purpose did that serve her? They were all failed experiments. The rejects wrapped around her finger, some more than others. It was hell. How could Alcina not see that?

The point was, Alcina would never understand what she felt. Angela didn’t even fully understand it herself, to be quite honest. All she knew was she was not living. She wouldn’t wish what she was going through on her worst enemy. 

Knowing that debating the Countess was a pointless resistance for her, she simply turned to walk away, wanting to put some distance between them. She was so incredibly tired...

... and she would have left, if the other woman hadn’t grabbed her wrist with inhuman speed. Being forced to turn her entire body and face the Countess, she tried to pull her wrist back, which she failed to do. Alcina was unsurprisingly strong and her grip unrelenting. The amount of force she used caused Angela to stumble forward a bit and into her - they were practically breathing the same air now, though the shorter woman had to crane her head upwards to actually lock eyes with the Countess. Her height allowed her to be at eye level with Alcina’s collarbone, but no more than that. It didn’t bother her too much.... no reason behind it.

“Do not turn your back on me,” the Countess warned, a scowl painting her face. 

Even in this moment she looked absolutely magnificent, making Angela’s heart squeeze almost painfully in her chest for the first time in years. It dawned on her then, that the Countess was out of her normal attire - she wore a silken nightgown, much like her own, only hers actually fit her, and a sheer, black robe with a floral pattern; her hat was also missing. Closing her eyes to keep her gaze from wandering lower, all she could feel was the woman’s cold, yet impossibly soft, hand wrapped around her wrist. 

She knew the tips of her ears would’ve turned pink by now, if they could. Thinking about it only made it worse. Her chest was heaving, her heart hammering in her chest, and their breaths mingled. Angela gulped slightly before opening her eyes again. She desperately wished to caress the other woman’s face, right about now - the light provided by the moon highlighted her features in the most beautiful of ways. She was utterly and completely under the Countess’s spell. 

Alcina was still holding on to her wrist and using the same amount of force. Angela’s hand was trapped in between their bodies, if the Countess were to let go of her.... Well. 

There was a scowl on her face no longer and she seemed to be struggling to keep her facial expressions under control. Her eyes dropped to Angela’s, now parted, lips, particularly on her scar, causing her own lips to twitch. The brunette noticed and was overtook by longing almost immediately. She needed to get away from the other woman, though she didn’t know how and every second that went by made it harder for her to tell Alcina to unhand her. Maybe she didn’t need to get away. Maybe what she needed was to draw even closer. 

She could smell something floral - the other woman’s perfume? Maybe to honor the crest of House Dimitrescu? She could smell the Countess’s perfume, so, yes, they were that close. 

Choosing to blame it on how intoxicating the woman’s scent was, Angela’s right hand, the one that was free, slowly moved upwards and towards the taller woman’s face, her fingers ghosting over it, not daring to touch just yet. She was silently asking for the Countess’s consent - she knew she should’ve verbalised it, but all her senses were malfunctioning. All she could see was her. All she knew was Her. 

Alcina did not object, though her jaw clenched for a brief second. Angela suspected it was not due to anger, so she took it as her confirmation.

Initially, her touch resembled that of a feather - she feared that if she moved too quickly she would lose the woman just as fast. So far, so good. She ran the pads of her index and middle fingers over the Countess’s cheekbones, her eyes tracing the movement. Then, she ran the tips of her fingers over her nose, her brow; memorising every feature. Her pupils dilated when she traced them over the woman’s lips, which were now bare and without any lipstick. She wondered if she was taking more than she should, but her worries floated away when she heard the taller woman’s breath quicken before she was able to control it once more. 

Feeling emboldened, Angela cupped the right side of her face. Alcina was no longer forcefully grabbing her wrist, but gently holding it. The brunette’s hand then fell to the right side of her neck, sliding down to settle on the top of her breast and near her heart. 

And there they stayed for awhile. The moon their only witness. If this was a dream, Angela would kill whoever dared to wake her up. It didn’t seem like a dream, though, because what the other woman said next was vocalised much too clearly.

“You have haunted me for years,” she professed, her brow furrowed - she was clearly struggling to come to terms with whatever it was that she was currently feeling. Angela didn’t blame her. 

“Good,” it was said absentmindedly, though there was honesty behind it. 

Alcina’s chin turned upwards. She seemed... determined, maybe? Or was it something else? Angela was distracted. 

Oh, it was definitely determination, for the Countess’s hand, the one that was holding Angela’s wrist, snaked around the shorter woman’s neck and pulled her towards her for their lips to meet. 

Angela’s eyes all but bulged out of her head at first, but she quickly regained her senses. She was not a shy lover and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about this specific moment several times throughout the years - she was not going to blow it now. Grabbing a fistful of Alcina’s robe and nightgown, she parted her lips, allowing the other woman to deepen the kiss further. They fit together perfectly - it was as if Angela had finally found the missing piece to her jigsaw puzzle. They had finally come full circle. This is what they should’ve done the first time they met. They both knew this. This was a second chance they were not going to miss. 

Turns out the Countess was an excellent kisser, not that it was of any surprise. She did have centuries to practice, after all, but it still made Angela’s heart flutter in her chest, the feeling settling on the pit of her stomach. Damn, that woman. The shorter woman inhaled through her nose sharply when Alcina’s hand, the one that was previously resting on her neck, moved upwards to grab a fistful of her hair - angling her head just so. Angela was more than happy to comply. 

Suddenly, Alcina broke their kiss, her lips now pink, causing Angela to lick her own in anticipation. She wanted nothing more than to hear her name leave those lips. Would the Countess even allow herself to do such a thing? Her thoughts were interrupted when the taller woman wordlessly began freeing her hair from the bun it was in. Her eyes burned with lust, but her movements were slow and gentle - they told a different story. 

When her hair cascaded down, Alcina’s lips upturned, making Angela’s twist into a smile. They gazed into each other’s eyes then. Alcina’s, in particular, revealing too much. They both knew this. It was too soon. 

The tender moment was broken when the black haired woman took notice of how Angela’s nightgown, which was hers - the thought sending a wave of possessiveness through her chest - was beginning to slip off her shoulders. Something dawned on her face then, and she used her left hand to pull one of the sleeves down, fully exposing Angela’s shoulder to the night air. She shivered, which did not go unnoticed by the other woman - her nipples were practically tearing holes through the soft fabric of the nightgown. The Countess locked eyes with her then, and what she saw only confirmed what was about to happen. 

Angela’s eyes wordlessly told her ‘Consume me’. And so she did.  

———

It seemed that it was possible for Angela to sleep without being plagued by nightmares, after all. Maybe it was due to how exhausted she was. She chose not to overthink it, now was not the time.

“What’s that,” Heisenberg said, flatly, looking to start another argument for the third time that morning. It seemed that not even during breakfast did the man mind his business. It didn’t help how he was sitting directly in front of her, either. Why had Alcina arranged the seats like that? 

Angela’s expression seemed to speak for her, because the man felt like he had to explain what he had meant by his question, “That,” he pointed with his fork, “on your neck,”. Ah. Well. 

She can’t talk about how the Head of House Dimitrescu picked her up effortlessly, placed her on top of her grand piano and... pushed her over the edge. Several times. She most definitely cannot talk about how, even after not allowing Angela to catch her breath, the Countess picked her up bridal style - the brunette’s legs shaking too much for her to walk - and took her to her chambers to make the shorter woman sing her name again. Over and over again. She certainly will not mention how the woman branded her with her mouth, though never actually biting into the soft flesh, as she allowed Angela to come down from the heights, her fingers still inside her as she did it. No. She couldn’t say any of that. 

The woman looked down at her plate to keep her composure before meeting the man’s prying gaze again, “I woke up with it,” she paused to chew her food, not daring to look at anyone else. Alcina was on her left - she could tell she was watching her - and her girls were on her right - also watching her, “Maybe I have began decomposing faster than expected,”. She heard one of the daughters snicker before being forced to keep it down after being kicked  under the table - by Bela, she was guessing.

The reply didn’t seem to satisfy Heisenberg, but he choose not to pry, for he sensed that the truth would probably end up disgusting him. 

Angela gave Alcina a sidelong glance then, noticing the way she was hiding how the edge of her lips were turning upwards behind her glass.

 ......

  In another life, indeed.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x oc #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x oc #(tagging it as x reader so it can reach a wider audience lmk if u want me to change it) #my writing #<3<3<3<3<3<3 #resident evil village #resident evil 8

[nighthaikyuu]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request akaashi, iwa, and/or atsumu kissing their best friend, please and thank you💕 I really liked the oikawa, kuroo and bokuto one!

— synopsis:  haikyuu boys x y/n; kissing their best-friend 

— characters included: akaashi, iwaizumi, & atsumu 

— genre: soft boi hours! fluff! lil angst! 

— author’s note: while the previous one was based off the tiktok, this one will be just general made-up plots to keep things different! (hope that’s okay!) 

akaashi

when you found out akaashi liked someone, you experienced your first heartbreak. 

you knew falling in love with your best-friend was all on you, but you couldn’t help but just hope that maybe one day he would return your feelings. 

but yet here you were, hopes and heart shattered. 

you almost wanted to breakdown the moment he told you, but you held it out as much as possible, your tears falling only once you were away from him. 

“y/n, I wanna tell you something...” he started slowly as he held the volleyball in his hand tightly. 

chuckling softly, you removed his hands from the ball, taking it from him, “you’re going to bust this if you hold it any tighter.” 

blinking, he stared at his empty hands before laughing lightly. taking a deep breath, he turned to look at you, a soft smile on his face. 

“I like someone.” 

this time it was you whose grip tightened on the volleyball. 

unsure if you heard him right, you stammered, “y-you what?” 

scratching the back of his head, he repeated shyly, “I said I like someone.”

“oh.” you responded, voice lower than a whisper. 

you quickly realized just how dejected you sounded, and if anything, that was the exact opposite of how you should’ve sounded. 

throwing on a bright smile on your face, you giggled, “ooh keiji has a crush~” you teased lightly. 

flushing, he laughed, “yea, I guess you could call it that.” 

“who is it?” you asked almost immediately, the curiosity getting the better of you. 

at that, akaashi stiffened. chuckling nervously, he averted his gaze, “um, it’s someone you know.” 

since that day, akaashi had never told you who his special someone was. you didn’t know why he was hiding it from you, after all it was better to peel the bandaid off completely rather than bit by bit like he was doing to you these last few weeks. 

it started with him telling you how amazing she was. how she was the funniest person he knew, how strong-minded she was and how beautiful she always was to him. 

then it went on to how she made him feel. how she always made his day, how he felt butterflies whenever she would touch him and how he just wants to hold her hand in his. 

and just like that, week by week, akaashi would talk about nothing but her. 

to make things worse, it appeared that most of the volleyball team knew. every day at volleyball practice you would hear their teasing remarks, bokuto’s being the loudest. and in response, his cheeks would flush in embarrassment, the sight making you only hurt more. 

should you quit? you wondered to yourself. it was hard enough on you to hear akaashi telling you his feelings, but it was a whole other thing having several people support him, reminding you every single second of every day that your best friend had fallen for someone else. 

you really loved being fukurodani’s volleyball manager. after all, it was one of the biggest excuses for you to spend more time with akaashi. but even aside from that, you made a lot of great friendships and memories with the team. 

but you really didn’t know if you could go like this anymore. 

sighing, you pulled your bag closer to you as you walked home with akaashi. 

“what are you thinking about?” 

shaking your head, you mumbled, “nothing important really.”

brows furrowing together, he asked, “mm you sure? you looked super serious for a second.” 

“dunno, just thinking about quitting being manager.” you muttered, before realizing what you had just confessed. shit. you didn't know how you were going to get out of this one. 

stopping in his tracks, akaashi’s eyes widened in surprise, “w-wait, you’re thinking of doing what?” 

muttering a soft damn it under your breath, you quickly threw on a nonchalant facade. giving him a shrug, you said casually, “it’s not that big of a deal keiji, there’s still the others.” 

turning back around, you started to walk again while akaashi stood there, fumbling for words. catching back up to you, he pressed, “but why? I thought you loved being manager?” 

biting the inside of your cheek, you knew he was right but you had to come up with some excuse, something to throw him off at least for now, “I just, school’s getting pretty busy—” 

“is that really it?” he interrupted, his voice slightly turning accusatory. 

your eyes narrowed at him, “what does that mean?” 

out of the both of you, akaashi was always the calm one. but today it was almost like you were seeing another version of him. where his eyes shook slightly, filled with an emotion that you couldn’t identify, his hands bundled into tight fists at his sides. 

“i just—” akaashi started, struggling to find the right words to say, “i feel like you’re not telling me something y/n. you’ve been off the last couple of weeks and I don’t know why—” 

you let out a bitter chuckle. 

“you’re kidding right?” 

if your reaction wasn’t enough to shut akaashi up, the words that followed definitely was. he watched as you shut your eyes tightly, your grip on your bag tightening, voice trembling, “I just, I can't do this anymore keiji.” 

akaashi’s eyes softened; moving closer towards you, he started to reach for your hand when you flinched away, the motion causing akaashi to blink in surprise. 

“d-don’t.” you whispered, blinking back the tears. “you won’t understand keiji. you won’t get what I feel and there’s no point in me telling you so please, just don’t ask me why.” 

“y/n, you can’t shut me out without even giving me a chance.” he reasoned softly to which you shook your head. 

“no, you don’t get it. e-everything will change and I just, I can’t handle that—” 

“I promise, nothing will change.” akaashi started, “you’ll always be my best friend—” 

“I don’t want to be your best friend anymore!” you finally exploded, the word starting to make you feel sick. your voice echoed through the empty street, each word coming back to haunt you when you realized what you had finally done. 

but there was no going back. 

“I want to be more than that...” you trailed off in a weak whisper. sniffling, you realized you had been crying without even knowing. brushing your cheek with the sleeve of your sweater, you added, “b-but you like someone else and that’s not your fault, it’s all mine. so just, give me some time keiji. i-i’m sorry.” you finally choked out before turning around on your heel and walking away quickly, the tears only falling faster at this point. 

shit shit shit shit

just then you felt something tug at your wrist, spinning you around as a slight yelp escaped your mouth. finding yourself being pulled towards Akaashi your faces just millimeters apart, you gasped, “keiji—!?” 

without uttering another word, akaashi closed the distance between the two of you as he grabbed your waist, pulling your frame flush against him as his lips enveloped yours in a soft kiss. his other hand cupped the back of your neck, his long fingers threading themselves into your hair as he pressed his lips tightly against yours. 

you felt like you were dreaming. 

before you could comprehend what was happening, akaashi had pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours as you watched his chest raise up and down with every breath. 

“keiji...” you whispered softly. 

“it was you.” he confessed quietly, “it was you, this whole time.” 

blinking furiously, you stared at your best friend as you slowly registered his words, “w-what, what do you mean?” 

lips quirking up into an embarrassed smile, he grinned, “the girl i said i liked? it was you y/n...that’s why i didn’t tell you who it was.” 

"oh.” you said as your cheeks flamed up in embarrassment, a shy smile appearing on your face, “it was me?” 

cupping your face in both his hands, he pressed another kiss to your lips before saying, “yes, it was you. it always has been.” 

as he gazed at you in complete adoration, you laughed softly to yourself, shaking your head in wonder. you were so preoccupied with the idea that the person akaashi liked wasn’t you, you didn’t even pay attention to all the signs and signals he had been giving trying to tell you that it was you. 

oh, how the world worked. 

iwaizumi

“iwaaaaa.”

“no.”

“hajiiiii.”

“no.”

“hajime! come on!” 

turning around to look at you, he rolled his eyes at you before saying the same word he had been for the last several minutes, “no.” 

crossing your arms across your chest with a slight huff, you retorted, “but why not?! it’s really that not that big of a deal, you’re just my best friend.” 

snorting, he turned his attention back to his laptop, “what kind of best-friends do you see kissing each other y/n?” 

“you make it sound crude, it’s not like I’m asking you to be my fuck buddy.” you grumbled, “I just said to teach me how to kiss, just once. It’s literally driving me crazy that I haven’t kissed anyone yet and then there’s the absolute fear of kissing someone and then realizing I suck and being utterly embarrassed for the rest of my life.” 

“then just find someone who hasn’t had their first kiss either. bam, both of you suck.” 

your narrowed your eyes at him, “do you have a list of men who haven’t had their first kiss? I can barely find one at this stupid university who has yet to sleep with someone, find someone who hasn’t kissed yet?! impossible.” 

iwaizumi chuckled softly under his breath as he heard you continue to grumble about how you were going to die alone since you would be too afraid to get intimate with anyone since you “sucked” at it. 

did he want to kiss you? always. 

but did he expect this to be the way? definitely not. 

he knew exactly how this would go, there was no way of it happening any other way. iwaizumi was always better at showing how he felt through actions than words, and after being best friends with you for so long, he knew you’d be able to tell the instant his lips met yours, just how fucking in love he was with you. 

“hajimeeeee.” you started to whine again, interrupting his thoughts. 

sighing, he turned around on his chair so that he was completely facing you. 

his first mistake. 

there you sat cross legged, plush lips pulled together in a small pout as you  stared at him with your soft wide eyes. 

“please haji...” you urge softer this time, a hint of desperation laced within your voice.

iwaizumi’s grip on his jeans tightened. the way you were looking at him was enough to set him off as his heart fluttered at the sound of his name from your lips. 

“you do realize you’re still going to be kissing me right?” he pointed out, “you're okay with that? ” 

nodding quickly, a smile quickly appeared onto your face. was he being convinced? you waved your hand about nonchalantly, “totally okay, you’re my best-friend, I trust you.” 

best friend, iwaizumi winced. the word stung a little more than usual today. 

after a while, iwaizumi finally said with a sigh, “look y/n, I don’t know...” 

your smile quickly dropped. 

“alright, it’s fine.” you said casually, although Iwaizumi could clearly hear the disappointment in your voice. getting up from his bed, you grabbed your bag from beside you and slung it over your shoulder. 

“hey, do you where tooru is?” you asked as you made your way towards his door. 

at the sound of his best friend’s name, iwaizumi’s ears perked up. brows furrowed together, he looked at you in slight curiosity as a bad feeling erupted in his stomach, “practice, why?” 

shrugging, you said, “i'll just go ask him instead, i’m sure he’ll do it.” 

oh, hell no.

before he could even think through his actions, iwaizumi pushed himself off of his chair and found himself reaching past you and closing the door with a thud! his arms caged you as you turned around and stared at him in complete shock, eyes wide and lips parted. 

chest rising up and down, he stared down at you, eyes swimming with an emotion you had never seen before. your own heart started hammering in your chest at the sudden change in proximity as you could feel iwaizumi’s breath fan your flushed cheeks. 

“h-hajime?” you stuttered out, blinking furiously as the boy simply stared at you. iwaizumi felt his brain completely short-circuit. this wasn’t like him at all. he was always the cool-headed one, whether it was keeping oikawa in check or being the supportive one for his friends. but with you, you had always managed to bring out parts of him he never knew existed. 

standing there, his gaze dropped down to your lips; it was as if being this close to you activated a magnetic field that he was unable to escape. leaning in towards you, his forehead rested against yours before he mumbled lowly, “a kiss is what you wanted right? then here.” 

slipping a hand beneath your jaw, his fingers tilted your face upward before closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. 

what started as a butterfly touch, slightly nervous and afraid, quickly changed as iwaizumi pressed closer, deepening the kiss. feeling your back hit the door, your eyes fluttered to a close as you found yourself melting into his embrace, sighing against his lips as you kissed him back. 

iwaizumi’s grip on you tightened. he knew he should stop now before things got out of hand. before you caught on. before you realized how much this kiss meant to him. 

teeth tugging at your bottom lip, iwaizumi pulled away reluctantly, resting his forehead against yours. eyes fluttering open, he waited for your eyes to open and when they did, he felt his entire world stop. 

upon meeting his gaze, your eyes softened. you didn’t know what you expected when you asked iwaizumi to kiss you. while you were serious about wanting to experience kissing, you couldn’t help but admit that you always wanted your first to be iwaizumi. 

“w-was i okay?” you murmured softly. 

nodding, he chuckled softly, “yea, you were perfect.” 

at his words, your grip on his shirt tightened. a sudden surge of courage coursed through your body when you leaned closer towards him and added, “i think i need more practice.” before crashing your lips onto his. 

atsumu

“wow, they should make a rule to not let short people work at libraries. you’d need a stool everywhere you went.” atsumu snorted as he watched you try putting a book away on the highest shelf.

it was a friday afternoon and you and atsumu were both at your local library, volunteering after school.

granted you have to drag him there every week but hey, community service was important to you. 

turning around to shoot him a glare, you retorted, crossing your arms, “for your information, I am perfectly capable of doing this.

chuckling softly, atsumu raised a brow, lips twitching, “Oh? Really now??

letting out a huff, you turned back around, standing on your toes as you tried to reach the top, even holding on to the shelf as you balanced yourself. watching you from behind, atsumu simply shook his head and chuckled, finding your stubbornness absolutely freaking adorable. (even though he'd never tell you that)

moving behind you, his hand shot up past yours as he whispered, “just let me do it.” his breath fanning the back of your neck. as he took the book from your hand, his fingers grazed yours ever-so-slightly, enough to send your heart into a frenzy.

get it together y/n! you told yourself.

somewhere along the line, the boundary of friendship between you and atsumu started to blur. nearly everyone around you could see the way both of you slowly fell for each other.

but of course neither of you could, choosing to remain silent in fear of ruining your childhood friendship.

however you weren’t about to simply give up as you turned around to retort back, but instead, it was a decision you were quick to regret. your heart suddenly skipped a beat when it noticed the distance between the two of you was almost nonexistent. and if that wasn’t enough, the way atsumu was smirking at from above as you were completely backed up against the bookshelf, had you holding your breath.

waving the book in the air, a good couple feet above you, atsumu teased, “here, all you have to do is reach for it y/n”

for a split second, you forgot the position in which you were in, a sudden drive of competitiveness within you focusing on only getting the book atsumu dangled above you. 

pouting, you complained, “atsumu—! just give it to me!” as atsumu laughed at the concentrated look on your face as you endlessly tried grabbing at the air above you.

reaching upwards one last  time, pushing yourself up onto the very tip of your toes, you quickly realized you made a mistake when a mini yelp escaped your lips, your hands clutching the thing nearest to you.

which ended up being?

you guessed it.

atsumu. 

wide-eyed, your hands tightened around atsumu’s shirt as you quickly regained your balance. looking up nervously, you saw atsumu’s smirk slowly disappear as it turned into a nervous smile, his eyes gazing down at you with a look that was indescribable. blinking, you found yourself staring at atsumu’s lips, his soft red lips that just seemed oh-so-inviting, yet the thought of them on you had you flushing scarlet red.

“y/n?” atsumu’s voice rasped softly through the thick air, your grip on him tightening as the way his name rolled of his lips had your knees going weak.

but before you could respond, all you could feel was the softness of his nose brushing against yours, his hands that slowly cradled your waist as he pulled you closer into his grasp, and finally his lips following right after. his lips soft as clouds enveloped yours gently, nervously, tenderly, as his mouth caressed yours while you stood there stunned, unable to move as much as an inch.

sensing the hesitation in you, atsumu quickly pulled away, a look of panic flashing across his face. his cheeks went flush under the dim library light, as he looked at you, completely flustered, “fuck—I'm sorry, I don’t know what came over me—”

“I didn’t mind.” you suddenly squeaked, your eyes widening as the words slipped past your lips, making you look away in embarrassment, internally cringing.

you did not just say that y/n!!!

atsumu’s face mirrored yours, a look of surprise on them before the corners of his lips quirked up into a smile, the very smile he would always give only you, the very smile that would always have your heart skipping a beat just at the sight of it.

tilting his head to the side, he raised his brow as he teased, “hmm, you didn’t mind?”

this time, it was your turn to be flustered as you hit his chest lightly, avoiding his teasing eyes as he beamed down at you. chuckling, his forehead fell upon yours, his lips yet again just centimeters away.

“then you wouldn’t mind if I did it again?” he whispered lowly, his eyes falling back down to your lips.

“i wouldn’t,” you said softly, finding yourself inching closer to him, slowly closing the gap. 

general taglist: @cinnamonrusts @postsfromthe6 @lady-snavely @02hhsailor@killuaking @rae0fsunshine1317 @sugawaaras @voids-universe @yams046@visaintes @simpforsaeko @honeybacon @kuroosbabie @verblueht @captain-janeway @misssugarless

character-specific taglist: @bluelightningxiii @ushiwakasvball @findityourselffsworld @konohasoftgf

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #Iwaizumi Hajime #akaashi x reader #akaashi haikyuu #atsumu x reader #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi haijime x reader #akaashi imagine #hq akaashi #miya atsumu #hq atsumu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons

[ventiskies]

When he rejects you | Chongyun, Scaramouche, Albedo

a/n: hello friends!! i apologize for my somewhat disappearance TwT im currently having exam season but i couldnt help but write something for my favorite three (and yes, scara is there... and honestly, I don't know when I started simping for him either but you can now call me a future scaramouche haver >:)) so not a request, but do enjoy !! <3 (apologies if there are any errors!!)

pairing: chongyun x gn! reader, scaramouche x gn! reader, albedo x gn! reader (platonic)

Chongyun

★ Chongyun, Xingqiu and you had been best friends since you were kids. And although you were a trio, you and Chongyun had always known each other much longer.

★ If your life were a book, it would be a sweet childhood best friends growing up together genre, something that often piqued Xingqiu’s interests when he drags the two of you to Wanwen bookhouse

★ The books you had borrowed from Xingqiu about them all ended with the same thing; that they end up becoming a couple and growing up together. Reminiscing about their childhood youth when they were old.

★ You knew not to trust the books or use them as a guide, but just like the books, you had grown to fall in love with the icy-haired boy.

★ Chongyun was like a breath of fresh air. His determination in exorcising ‘evil spirits' to the point that he blindly falls for Xingqiu and your pranks were the things that you loved about him. He was filled with enthusiasm and positivity (literally).

★ You grew into enjoying his positive attitude, you couldn't imagine a day going by without Chongyun telling you and Xingqiu about a so called 'haunted' place he had found, and forcing the two of you to come with him. and even if it had ended without meeting a single spirit, he would still be in high spirits.

★ you loved it, seeing the rush of thrill he feels whenever he senses a spirit nearby, hoping the spirit was able to withstand his excessive yang energy. the repeating days without one successful exorcism, only to end up getting treated to a meal by Xingqiu, and the parting that always ends with a promise to see each other the day after. Chongyun speaks his emotions, and you were in love with that.

★ and him, just in general.

★ And one day, you had decided to tell him just that

★ You were both on the hunt for Jueyun chilies for Xiangling, a small commission that you had decided to take on while waiting for Xingqiu to finish his work at the guild. The sun had set, and you had returned from Qingce village with a bucket full of the chilies and had decided to rest on top of the mountain where you had both Waypointed to just to admire the sunset.

★ In the heat of the moment, you had spoken.

“I like you, Chongyun,” you had said, looking at him with a smile.

★ You would have accepted a silence. You had expected it to be like the books; he would gently laugh and look at you, admitting that he had been waiting for you to say the exact words, lean in to kiss you. It would be awkward at first, but it’ll also be something to look back to in the future when kissing becomes something you do every day. You’d return back to Liyue Harbor hand in hand, and be able to tell Xingqiu and Xiangling that he was your boyfriend now, and admit to the former that maybe his books were right.

★ But instead, you were met with Chongyun’s wide eyes staring at you. His cheeks flushed red with what you had tried hard to hope was shyness, but had appealed more like panic. He had stood up and cleared his throat

“We- we should get back,” he says, too quickly for someone as calm as he is. And you knew it was a wrong step, “I’m-,” he clears his throat, “I’m going to go ahead first. I'm sorry,”

★ You didn’t know if he was apologizing for leaving early, or for not being able to accept your feelings, but when you hadn't seen him the following day, you could only assume.

Scaramouche

★ Honestly, you had it coming for you.

★ Scaramouche is someone whose life is their job. There was nothing that could distract him from working for the Tsaritsa

★ You had (been self-entitled) as his best friend. And honestly, if Scaramouche knew of it, he doesn't blame you. Everyone in the Fatui and who worked under the Fatui knew how close you were. Which was odd because, for one, you were absolutely nothing like him. Although you weren't exactly liked by everyone, you weren't loathed by everyone like the sixth harbinger was.

★ Scaramouche was feared by anyone who hears his name or walks a foot away from him, while you carried a calmer aura. Without glancing, Scaramouche could bring his subordinates trembling, while they would greet you when you pass by them.

★ You were polar opposites, and yet, everyone has seen the two of you together so much that when he wasn't with you or the other way around, people would assume you were on a solo mission or just leaving the other’s quarters

★ Of course, being his best friend, you weren’t spared of his usual harsh words. As a matter of fact, you probably had it much worse than anyone else. It had almost seemed as if every time he spoke, he spoke like he was trying to get rid of you.

★ But if that really were the case, then he hasn’t been trying his best. You had stayed with him since you had become an ally to the Fatui, and ever since then had stayed by his side. When others shake in fear, you shake your head with a laugh and a retort.

★ It had even come as a surprise to you when you had realized you had fallen for the harbinger. You would think that spending time with such a foul-mouthed person who would murder someone in the blink of an eye with no hesitation would make you dislike him. But that didn’t happen.

★ In fact, it was quite the opposite. You had fallen in love with him.

★ It wasn’t obvious to anyone, and even you had to take the time to squint to look for it. But Scaramouche did care for you in his own way. Whether it be toning down the harsh words when he sees your mood dampen after a mission, or beating the shit out of a person who had attacked you ruthlessly, not stopping even after his hands were covered in crimson liquid and the person almost certainly died. Even if he calls you a hindrance afterward for dirtying his hands, he definitely thought of you the same as you thought of him.

★ A friend.

★ Or, you had hoped, something more.

★ It was a mistake to take his slight kindness as a sign of him liking you, it truly was.

★ During your journey to Inazuma for a mission, you had decided to confess to him out of the blue. You knew he was someone who could predict the outcome of something even before you said anything, so a slow confession when the sun was setting in a field of flowers would just be a waste of time. if there was something you learned, it's to cut to the chase with him.

“Hey Scara,” you had said quietly. He had replied with a low hum, not turning back to look at you, “I like you.”

★ Without a second thought, Scaramouche had taken you by surprise as well.

★ He had not stopped in his tracks, instead, his shoulders shook in laugher. His laugh wasn't the same laugh you hear whenever you make a stupid mishap or get slightly injured during a simple mission- no, those laughs were warmer. Although laced with unkindness, they were more familiar.

★ This one was condescending. As if you were a new recruit again, having to work under him. As if all those years as friends had just gone down the drain.

“Stupid. What a fool of me to assume you were different.” he says, voice clear as a bell in the night, “don’t be an inconvenience. I don't have time for people like you.”

Albedo

★ Ever since working under Albedo with Sucrose, your life had been nothing but full of wonder. Although some were dangerous, Albedo and you bonded easily as if you had worked together in a past life.

★ Albedo was a genius. He was someone you looked up to, and sometime during your investigations, he had become a friend. You didn't know when it started. When it had gone from two alchemists staying the night in Dragonspine to observe the different stages of new plant growth, to- with the permission of the acting grandmaster - just two people, two friends, going out to explore the seven nations.

★ Sucrose and Timaeus had stayed back in Mondstadt to finish experiments that you both had decided to put on hold for your trip, and with nothing to worry about, the two of you had gone out with nothing but the protection of each other (and your visions, of course), and a few packed meals from Good Hunter.

★ Albedo had a side that no one saw unless they spent nights camping with him in the middle of nowhere. You were one of the lucky people who were able to see that side of his during your trips around the seven.

★ The alchemist wasn't just curious about the way the world works, he had also been curious with, well, you.

★ Some nights when he couldn't go to sleep (which was often. You’d be surprised to see how messed up his sleep schedule was), he would sit in front of the fire you had both worked hard to make, and simply talk.

★ sometimes, it would be short conversations. but more than often, you find yourself talking about everything and nothing until the sun rose above the mountains, and you would have to continue your journey until one of you (usually being you,) were too tired to continue.

★ Albedo talks with passion, no matter what the topic is. He could be talking about what you were going to be having for dinner for the next night before you reach the first region in your trip, and he would already have you captivated.

★ Albedo also talks with gentleness. And this was the said side not a lot of people would be able to see from the chief alchemist. Whenever the tent was filled with comforting silence, you would be able to hear Albedo asking you questions about yourself. They weren’t your standard, what was your dream growing up? Kind of questions, but they were more specific. More… personal.

★ Is it not funny, how life works? What if a single moment had changed in the past, I and you wouldn't have met. He would question, eyes trained to the flames burning in front of him. It sounded rhetorical, but his tone was laced with wonder. He sounds as if he was expecting an answer, but he doesn't urge you for one. And every time he does, you merely hum.

★ Albedo was gentle in everything he did. Almost all the time you were with him, he had never acted brashly. He was patient, kind.

★ and that was most likely what had prompted your crush on the alchemist

★ crushing on Albedo was like looking up at the stars. he was someone who shined brightly, but you knew he was too far to reach, yet despite that, you had still attempted to.

★ you had decided to finally let it all out on him the night of your final stay before you reached your final region, which was Inazuma.

★ and that, you had realized a little too late, had been the icing on top of a really terrible cake.

"Albedo," you had stared, and the alchemist immediately turned towards you. that was something you had grown fond of. you knew Albedo was a man married to his work, so when he turns to you in the midst of it, you felt your stomach churn in delight, "I have to tell you something,"

“Hm?” he hums, setting his notepad down to give you his full attention, “what is it, y/n?”

★ You took a deep breath, and the moment you had opened your mouth to tell him, you had a sinking feeling you had made a huge mistake.

“I like you, a lot,” you muttered, “not just platonically, Albedo. I… I think you're really interesting. and if you'd like, I would love to be with you. ”

★ Albedo’s face had fallen, and although it had been the slightest, you had still noticed it. He looked at you as if the cogs were turning in his brain, and finally, he looks down

“I must apologize,” he starts, and you feel your stomach drop, “but I’m not interested in you that way, y/n. If it makes you feel better, I see you as a very dear friend,”

★ You nod, apologizing to Albedo before he offers a small smile before continuing his research

★ You both did not speak of it, but there was a very thick air of silence hangs over the two of you afterward, that didn't dissipate even after you both left the camp.

#i am very sorry #actually might make a next part if anyones interested B) #angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact chongyun #chongyun x reader #albedo x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact chongyun x reader #genshin impact albedo x reader #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #genshin chongyun x reader #genshin albedo x reader #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin impact imagines #albedo x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #chongyun x y/n #albedo x gn reader #scaramouche x gn reader #chongyun x gn readr

[miami2k17]

hi! how is it going? you said that your gsect epiphany was connected with my sister lover which is of course super cool and valid

but I think it is lock all the doors that spilled all the tea. like I even tried to interpret it in another way, like it is about some girl or whatever

it doesn't fit at all. ok, maybe some girl noel used to love might have had a star shaped tambo, but what all this "forbidden feeling vibe" for? like chill man no one is going to condemn or kill you if they found out that you are having sex with your gf lmao

long story short I really want you to elaborate on this issue. thanks xx

bestieee ive been saving this one for whenever i had the time and now im stuck in the house cuz miss rona finally got me soo 😚

lock all the doors is super interesting! its a song that's been with him for a very long time and one that, at least in its most recent iteration, he likes enough to at least put it on his best of comp.

i think where u gotta start with this ✋🤨 is to look at the original demo from 1992 (or 93? ive seen people say both. either way very very early oasis.) that originally sat unused until 96 or 97 when noel took p much everything but the chorus, wrote the monstrosity that is my sister lover around it, and set that loose into the world. lock all the doors was the same situation but opposite parts and 20 years later. BUT if you ignore my sister lover existing for a second. ik it's hard but hear me out. i think the original lock all the doors was incredibly revealing just as it was. before he wrote the absolutely ham handed chorus that is "you're my lover, i'm your brother", the 2 parts meshed together really well in that original demo i think. they have a very similar vibe abt like. something secret! about not wanting to be discovered. "you never notice you are blind/the dream i have can never be" v similar vibe of not wanting to be seen/noticed, or having something that must be kept secret, and knowing it will only ever be this way, you can't ever have more. and then the lock all the doors chorus brings that theme of like. escapism and running from everyone's view to be alone together in hiding. i think they fit super well together.

but anyways this aint about the demo or my sister lover and i kno ppl have discussed those to death there's really nothing else to be said about my sister lover besides. god what an incredibly bizarre song. i want to force him to acknowledge it at least once and explain. it's like a personal fantasy. anyways

lock all the doors (2015 ☝️😐) is very inchersting cuz why would he be taking lyrics about that feeling of being with someone and having to hide it away or keep it secret and reworking them to release so many years after that time had passed? i know he'll still release a song if it's good even if it's about something that isnt really relevant anymore but this one is weird because he clearly wrote new and Liam Centric lyrics just for it, that many years afterward,

like OBVIOUSLY we all kno "she wore a star shaped tambourine/prettiest girl i'd ever seen", it haunts me every waking moment, rent free etc etc. noel taking a song he wrote the chorus for when liam actually had that tambourine, and then writing that version of liam into the song like 22 years later im SICK. i do not need to mention just how many times noel made jokes about liam being a girl, wishing liam was a girl, wishing he had a sister instead. not even gonna get into that cuz that is its entire own insanity deep dive. but 🤔 makes u think !

"i tried to catch her every night/dancing on the road in her candlelight/but i can't seem to reach her anymore" babeee ur longing and loneliness is showing! this paired with the opening line of the song, and ALSO knowing just how old this song is, really makes me feel like he's longing for a past version of liam or even how they used to be together. it's just filled with nostalgia to me. he's trying, or did try, to reach that past version of liam and how they used to be but it just wasn't the same and they couldn't connect the same way anymore and he's still longing for it.

thinking about noel writing this chorus when he did in the early 90's is so 🥺. it's such a desperate wish for something that you couldn't ever hope to have in any real sense. you just aren't allowed. but sometimes love doesn't work that way and it's so incredibly sad for that reason lol. every time he writes about that wish to escape the world's view with someone and just be with them, alone together, it kills me. it's so sad :(

i think either this chorus was simply just good enough for him to reuse all those years later or, i would imagine to some degree even after all that time you would still wish for a perfect world where you could escape and hide away together and never be found. since that's essentially what caused 80% of the problems in the first place. again i think it's brought back up by nostalgia and a wish for things to be how they used to be. even if they were hiding and only together in secret behind locked doors with the lights off, at least they were together.

also i think the side by side of growing up sharing a bedroom with your brother, falling in love with him probably in said bedroom, and then writing a song about locking doors and getting down on the floor is very inchersting. makes me wonder if their door had a lock 🤔

this is where it gets juicy! and yes i had to edit this bc genius had the wrong lyrics! or at least i think so bc i dont own the album and am pure pissed abt that because i was halfway out of bed to get it and look when i realized i dont even fucking own it! anyways!

this part is super wack to me bc instead of speaking About this person like he has been, he starts speaking directly To them. the "She" he mentions then becomes someone else entirely, i rlly dont wanna go there but you can make your own conclusions. no matter how toxic and terrible it is between them, i don't think anyone will ever understand either of them the way they understand eachother so i get why he wrote a line like that, "she never hears me when i speak/i gotta find out where that magic sleeps" it doesn't mean he's like pining for liam over his wife or something, i think he's just nostalgic for that level of understanding and being known that he really can't get anywhere else.

"and i can feel you underneath my skin" YESS you are entwined forever neither of you will ever escape the other ur constantly followed by the thought or memory of him and vice versa. pining and longing for somebody to the point where they live so rent free in your head that you can feel them under your skin.

"and if we take our love inside" back to being hidden inside/behind closed doors with someone, because at least you have them at all! i think it's inchersting how noel's common view of his solo career being his ultimate freedom and happiness is contrasted here by a line like "cause i don't wanna sail on the ocean wide/cause we might never live to meet again" which sounds more like loneliness and the fear of him never getting this thing back that he's clearly missing. he obviously knows that they don't have forever if he does plan on fixing that at all. maybe being trapped inside, behind locked doors is better than being all by yourself and alone because at least you're locked in there with the person you love.

i don't think this song, or him bringing it back and releasing it this way, is a real true wish for that at all. more like a fantasy. when you're in a relationship like that for so long i can imagine it becomes a comfort and anything else might seem lonely/overwhelming or make you long for it, even if in hindsight it was much worse. it's just kind of all you know.

anyways yea in conclusion lock all the doors and thinking abt why it was originally written makes me very very sad let there be love etc etc

#this is literally unintelligible caveman speak sorry #i wish i could plug my brain into your brains and then send like straight thoughts and feelings cuz i cant speak #noel #oasis #long post

[side-writes-fanfics]

Late-night talks || One-shot

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

Word count: ≈2000

Genre: it was supposed to be angst but it's really just fluff

Tw: Sukuna is kinda ooc, ngl

Summary: usually, you'd talk to Yuuji during the nights you felt restless but today, it was very much different. One night started a habit that definitely shouldn't have started.

Feel free to leave a or two or more request in my asks!

Masterpost | Asks/Requests

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(Y/N) walked down the long dormitory halls, her insomniac brain refused to allow her to rest after the hard day she’d had. On one hand, it was fantastic, filled with thrill and learning opportunities! On the other, however, the girl had gone through so much intense training and failure that she wanted nothing more than a good night's sleep. And yet, the thoughts in her head flew and a high speed and there was no way in hell that they would stop any time soon. So, as any sane person would do, instead of reading a book or being productive and taking the time to practise some techniques that wouldn’t blow the entire room up, (Y/N) decided to knock on Itadori’s room door and mess his sleep up as well.

Her hands made contact with the wood once. Then quickly twice. Then three times before the door opened to reveal the figure she had been anticipating. Only something seemed a little off. While she wasn’t thinking Itadori would be wearing a shirt as it is the middle of the damn night, the markings on his entire body suggested that it wasn’t Itadori who stood in front of her. Rather, Sukuna had taken over his body for the night and wasn’t planning on leaving the boy alone.

“You really want him to be dead tomorrow, huh?” (Y/N) whispered to the curse, chuckling at the thought of Yuuji not being able to hold his eyes open for long enough to get out of bed, let alone all the “fun” activities Gojo said he had planned for us. Now, you might be wondering why the absolute fuck were you not shaking in your boots at that very moment? I mean, you’re talking to the King of Curses, the man himself. This guy could probably snap you in half with one movement if he wanted to. Well, for one, you had no boots to shake in as you were walking in the stupidest pair of slippers money could buy. Secondly, Sukuna was well aware that if he hurt you, or any of the students of Jujutsu High for that matter, his life would be cut much shorter by the president of the school without any hesitation. Even Gojo couldn’t do anything about it because he cared for you just as much as Itadori. He cared for all of the students the same, no matter how much others thought Yuuji was the only one who got his love. (Y/N), of course, knew this and took advantage of it as much as she could, without pushing the limits and getting herself into danger.

“You’re the one talking, pipsqueak,” Sukuna said, shooting the girl an unamused glare. “Coming in the middle of the night to wake up this brat isn’t much better than what I’m doing.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, walking past the curse and into Itadori’s room. Sukuna stared at her confused but before he could continue further, (Y/N) cut him off.

“Get in the room and close the door. If Gojo catches me out of my room at this ungodly hour of the night, I’m gonna be dead and if you get caught with me, it isn’t going to be taken lightly by the higher-ups.” The girl made her way over to the bed, making herself comfortable while Sukuna listened to her orders, even though he didn’t want to.

“That sounds like you’re the one who causes all the trouble here and not me.”

(Y/N) smirked, letting out a little chuckle. “And yet, I don’t care about that much.” She propped herself up, now in a sitting position. Sukuna rolled his eyes at her, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

The two stared at each other in silence. What were you even expecting? Neither of them was used to being in each other’s presence. They barely interacted due to reasons outside of their control. (Y/N) went on missions a lot, barely spending any time in the presence of Itadori. When she did have time to hang out, Sukuna never actually spoke or came out and showed his presence. Sukuna didn’t want to talk because he did enjoy the company and anything he wanted to say at first would have just made her leave. (Y/N) didn’t want to speak up because of her poor social skills. Everything she knew about socialisation, which wasn’t that much, had been thrown out the window by the lack of contact she had with other people. To be frank, even if they sat in silence (Y/N) would have sat there until the moment she was tired. It was better than being alone in her room staring at the ceiling.

“Why’d you even come here in the middle of the night?” Sukuna spoke up, not wanting to leave the room silent. Unlike (Y/N), he hated the silence. He could not take it. When the curse was on his own, whether it be in the form of Itadori or inside of his domain, Sukuna didn’t mind it. He was left alone to his own devices and was able to do as he pleased, but being around another person in complete silence drove him crazy.

“Uh… I couldn’t sleep.” her body positioned herself in a sitting fetal position, resting her head on the top of her knees. “Yuuji lets me come to his room when that happens and we just chat about random things until I feel tired.” Both of them stared at each other, waiting for who was going to speak next. It was hard to keep the conversation going as of now, both of the participants carefully thought about their words as to not upset the other. Still, (Y/N) said something to fill the silence: “What about you? Why are you in control of Yuuji’s body?”

“I felt like it.”

(Y/N) blinked at him, not believing her ears. “That’s… that’s it?” she said in disbelief.

“Are you not satisfied with that answer, pipsqueak?” The man crossed his arms and lifted a brow. The girl crossed her arms as well, pushing her back against the wall behind her. She contemplated once more all the choices she could make at this moment, though, to an outside view, (Y/N) looked as if she was scared to say anything at all. Sukuna’s chuckle broke her out of her contemplative daze. “It’s boring inside of where I am for days upon days upon days. Sometimes I need to feel alive, even if it’s just switching with this brat and walking around his room.”

The girl let out a ‘hm’ sound, nodding to indicate she understood his reasons. Slowly, the two began having normal...ish conversations without the awkward pauses between topic and sentences. They began to slow as if they’ve been long term friends with natural progression. And as all natural progression goes, this became a regular thing. (Y/N) couldn’t sleep more often, Sukuna wanted to walk around the world more often, them talking happened more often. Though, these little meetings in the middle of the night that consisted of senseless trains of thought being put into words stayed secret between just the two of them. Not even Itadori knew that (Y/N) snuck into his room as often as she did. Yuuji knew and welcomed her coming to his room to speak to him when she needed company. There were times where she snuck in and Itadori was in his own body. The girl hated to admit it but she felt sad when she couldn’t speak to the curse inside his body. Indeed, she should have felt ashamed but something just didn’t let her. (Y/N) liked Sukuna’s company. Even with the… talks about not so good things he’s done that were bound to come up at some points in time.

There came a day where (Y/N) realised it. Realised that she, as a jujutsu sorcerer, shouldn’t feel the way she feels about him. He's done so much wrong. Why does it not bother her that much? She stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts haunted her throughout the day, not letting a moment pass without her thinking about it. It was obvious she wasn’t going to sleep tonight. Leaving to go talk to the curse, however, seemed to be a tiny bit paradoxical. Her worries were caused by him. She didn’t want to end the friendship they had built. Then again, was this really for the best? Were the talks really a smart idea? Was continuing to see him and forming an emotional bond going to bring anything but pain and sorrow?

Knock, knock, knock.

‘Who could be knocking on her door at 3 in the bloody morning?’ the girl thought to herself, getting up to answer the door. As soon as she opened it, she mentally slapped herself for being stupid. I mean who else could have it been other than the curse himself.

“I see you’re awake,” he said, “though, you decided not to come and talk to me.” A brow lifted on (Y/N)’s face.

“And you decided to come to me instead, huh?” she smirked at the man, moving to give him space to enter the room. “Have you started caring about me? Have you softened up to little old me?” she poked and teased him, trying to forget what she’d been thinking about moments before. Sukuna entered, only to stop in the middle of the room.

“I need to talk to you about something…” her heart stopped. ‘Shit shit shit and shit.’ her thoughts became quicker and her heart raced as if it were running a marathon she was not ready for. Why would she have said what she said? Was it that she got too comfortable around him. “What you said… about me caring about you…” he paused, trying to find the words to say. (Y/N) looked at him turned away from her, anticipating his next words. “It’s true… I am softer towards you than anyone else. In these past two months you... You’ve made your way to my heart. You make me feel. You make me feel,” he said quietly, fiercely, making (Y/N)’s heart skip a beat or two. He turned towards her, his face more serious than you’d want it to be in this moment. “and I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

(Y/N) blinked. Absolutely taken aback at his words. “I’m sorry, what?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He confessed that he cared about her. That she made him feel a certain way. And yet somehow he’s rejecting her? Nothing makes sense. She didn’t even confess to him and she feels hurt. “I… don’t-”

“Why do I feel like this?” Sukuna cut her off and stared at her, hoping she would solve the problem with a few simple words.

“I- I don’t know why you feel like you do!” she squeaked out, still unsure what was happening, “I mean I don’t even know how you feel.”

“I don’t know either.” (Y/N) paused, lifting her hand towards his. Her eyes flicked towards his, silently asking permission to hold his hand. He squinted at her. For a man who claims to be a genius and has years and years of life experience, his social skills seemed to be lacking when we’re talking about kindness. The girl kept quiet, putting her hand closer. It gently touched his, sending a clearer message of what it was she wanted. Sukuna let out a slight ‘oh’, before embracing her hand into his. Her heart skipped a beat again. She cursed herself silently, understanding that she was feeling the same way as he was.

“What are we going to do, pipsqueak?” Sukuna asked her, confused out of his mind. It was rare that anyone saw him as bewildered as he was right now.

“We’ll… figure it out I guess…” a smile tugged at (Y/N)’s lips. It was terrifying, there’s a lot in their way and a lot of things they have to set straight, but for now, this seemed to be the most they could do.

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#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x fem!reader #x reader #one shot #imagine #drabble #was supposed to be angst but i cannot bring myself to write anything but fluff rn #fanfic #fanfiction

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse Infested

Corpse Husband & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of dysfunctional family, Family problems, Swearing

Genre: Humor, Comfort, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When your friend disappears for a long time, seemingly having lost interest in what fueled the most passionate fire in their life, you cannot not worry about them. Even if you wanna give them space, you will reach out, you will offer your help. You will tell them they always have you to rely on and talk to.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and if you do I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

For me, it’s never hard to find things to do. I’ve constantly got things on my mind and tasks to tend to, keeping me occupied and my mind focused at all times. I think that comes with living in a home as dysfunctional as this one. I honestly can’t recall a time when my parents got along nor can I think of a time where there was at least one second of peace while the two are both present in the house. It’s always a warzone up there. I’m saying up there because I tend to live out of the basement of their home. I know living in your parents’ basement is considered a peak loser point, or the bottom of the bottom, but you’d have to believe me when I say - I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I only recently came back to this hell-hole and boy do I regret it. I mean, it was a decision forced upon me by circumstances. Trust me, I tried every other option there was. When my dorm was to be closed down and demolished, we were given a notice to start planning our next move about a month early. You can bet I immediately started looking at places but my very tragic and miserable budget didn’t allow such a purchase. No rent was adequate for me and my near-empty wallet so my second option was moving in with my best friend who was also not in the greatest of situations but I thought I’d give that a shot too.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out. She lived in a tiny apartment with her boyfriend and his best friend at the time, so four people in one apartment was a nightmare. Still a lesser nightmare than this one but a nightmare nonetheless. Some unwanted and downright traumatizing events chased me out of that place after barely managing to pack my stuff. Therefore, finding myself on the streets again, I had no other option other than the obvious and least liked one: moving back in with my parents.

Making money during my first year of college hasn’t been easy. Working two jobs at once and also streaming video games on the side was what my time was filled with all throughout the first semester but then this damn pandemic started and now ruined everything for me. I had things going for me, I was slowly getting my life together and now it has all fallen apart yet again. The places I worked at closed down due to quarantine and I haven’t been able to steam, not only cause I’d be the victim of my parents’ comments but also cause my terrible home life would be exposed to all my fans and viewers. It’s not like I could cancel out the commotion going on right above my head, it’s a livestream and this house’s walls are cardboard thin meaning all the arguing I hear almost 24/7 will serve as background noise for my streams.

I haven’t reached out to my friends or fans to inform them of this which I feel slightly guilty about but I’m really not looking forward to having to lie to them, just as much as I’m not looking forward to having to tell them the truth so instead I’ve picked silence which is probably either worrying them or driving them insane. Either way, I’ll make my comeback soon.

Well....not very soon by the looks of it...

I have to gather the money, then I have to find a place, then comes the packing, moving out of here, moving into the new place...oh God, there’s so much to it that I don’t even wanna think about. Just that thought that I’ll be inactive for that long makes my stomach turn. Streaming’s where I’ve been channeling all my negative emotions, turning them into something positive and entertaining with the help of my friends.

Speaking of my friends, I should probably put emphasis on how amazing they are. Basically the older siblings I’ve always wished I had. I’m the baby of the group, the eighteen year old freshman in college, powering through life the best they can cause they are constantly getting tripped up by inconvenient occurrences such as this one for example. I tend to have the gang poke fun at me quite frequently - all lighthearted and with good intentions obviously - but they are also the ones to get super defensive if anyone gets the balls to talk shit about me. They’d never allow me to be the victim of any smack talk or online rumors and ‘cancel culture’ or whatever the hell people will come up with to leave others restless and wondering if they did something shady a decade ago. Well, to be fair, I didn’t even know about the concept of social media a decade ago and I’ve never been one to post much but I still have a protection squad in case anyone decides to come after me.

Little do they know the people I need protecting from are the very people that are supposed to protect me - my parents. Luckily, they don’t venture into to basement very often if at all and I have my own exit to the outside world so I don’t have to run into them unless I absolutely have to. The only time I emerge to the surface of the house - aka the ground floor - I do so to leave my share of rent money on the dining table and I usually do it when they aren’t home or when they’re asleep - that happens often with how many bottles they each knock back on the daily.

*sigh*...at least I don’t have to talk to them, right?

Anyhow, remember how I mentioned I always have things to do? Well, right now I’ve tasked myself with rifling through the large boxes containing random stuff I found in one of the basements down here to see if there’s anything I could possibly sell online. For starters, I’d like to hope there aren’t any severed body parts in here because this was one shady-ass basement before I moved in and un-creeped it a bit so I wouldn’t have to become an insomniac due to the paranoia of there being a homeless person down here with me or some paranormal entity. Regardless, old basements tend to be, apart from haunted, also filled with junk no one would find valuable despite it actually being worth something after all. That’s basically what I’m hoping to find at the moment.

As I dig through the contents of the first box, the YouTube playlist I have put on on my phone cuts off causing me to furrow my brows in confusion for a second before my ringtone pierces the silence the lack of music created.

I quickly mute the ringing and take a look at the Caller ID to see a name I never thought would pop up on my screen as an incoming call - Corpse. I, as well as many of our friends, know that he’s not the biggest fan of talking to people on the phone so this is rather surprising. Still, I pick up the call in case it’s not a mistake and an odd chance that it’s somethin urgent cause Lord knows Corpse doesn’t call people willy-nilly. 

Thank God it’s quiet up there at the moment.

“Hello?“ I try my best to cover up the confusion in my voice but I can only assume I didn’t do the best job considering Corpse replies with a slightly awkward chuckle.

“Surprised you, didn’t I?“ He asks, getting my cheeks to redden a bit, “You can’t blame a guy for calling after up and disappearing on him and on the whole internet. Where’ve you been?“

I open my mouth to respond when I hear the sound of glass breaking a shouted curse from upstairs.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

“Um...you know, places?“ I’m aware the answer isn’t only nonsensical but also sounds more like a question, but I can hardly focus on that right now. I’m too buys praying to an entity I don’t fully believe in for the situation above to not escalate.

“Uh, is everything ok over there? Where even are you right now?“ The teasing tone to his voice is all but gone at this point, replaced with deep concern, having obviously heard the commotion that did the exact opposite of what I prayed for - escalated.

“Y-yeah, it’s ok. It’s just another Thursday, you know.“ I attempt a small laugh but it’s blatantly miserable, “I moved back in with my parents when they announced the quarantine so that’s where I’m at now. They’re not the quietest of folks as you can tell so...“

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HOPE YOU DIE“

Oh crap, here we go.

“...So I can’t really stream a lot...or at all.“ I mutter, cringing with all my might, “But it’s only temporary! I’ll get back in the saddle as soon as I find another place to stay.“ I don’t dare mention how long that’s gonna take me, it’ll be too disappointing and depressing for the both of us. “So yeah...um...thanks for showing concern but there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m ok, everything’s ok, things are just...a bit off the rails, but I’ll fix em no problem. Like I always do!“ I attempt to sound as cheerful as possible with little success due to the overwhelming anger I feel towards those people upstairs and the gut-wrenching nostalgia for the world of streaming I can no longer be a part of because of them. Actually, I put the blame first on the pandemic and second on my parents - if it wasn’t for Covid I’d probably still be in my dorm!

“Hey...um, I think I know an affordable place where you can take up residence. Only if you want to, of course.“ He sounds hesitant but I easily overlook that as excitement bursts throughout my entire being at the sound if an escape being offered to me just like that. Had I known I’d find the solution to my problem in the very people I spent time avoiding because I was afraid of their pity, sympathy and judgement.

“Oh please, it could be a rat and roach infested shoe box and I’d go running to it. How much is rent?“ I ask through a gasp of hurried laughter that’s a result of my inability to contain said excitement. Listen, I’ve been sitting here in Hellsburg for three months now and haven’t gotten a proper shuteye during that whole period, whatever Corpse is offering has to be better than this misery.

“Rent can be discussed once you move in...“ He trails off, “And it’s not rat nor roach infested but there’s a slight issue...“

“Which is?“ I’m honestly expecting the worst: in a bad neighborhood; faulty wiring with a high chance of being electrocuted; faulty piping with a high chance of flooding; people have died there; things get randomly moved around in the middle of the night etc. However, I don’t voice any of them to avoid getting laughed at for my wild imagination.

“Well, uh, it’s corpse infested.“ He says a little awkwardly, causing me to let out an inaudible sigh.

So my ‘people have died there’ guess was on point, huh?

“People have died there, huh? Well, I can turn a blind eye to that as long as I don’t find their bodies in the closet or meet their spirits at 3AM.“ I attempt to joke, now second-guessing my eagerness to accept the offer.

Corpse bursts out laughing his ass off at my statement, getting me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wonder what I said was so funny - it was a poor attempt at a joke, it in no way deserves that sort of reaction, barely a chuckle in my opinion.

“You’re golden, Y/N, I swear.“ He says once he forces the laughter to subside, “I meant corpse infested as in Corpse Husband infested.“ He breaks out in another fit as my brain slowly starts connecting the dots.

Oooohh he’s asking me to go live with him

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a sec. Are you aware of what you’re offering me? I mean, we’ve never met IRL, you barely know me and....and for all you know I could be the serial killer in this situation!“ I have no idea why I’m pushing my luck, don’t ask. I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll later regret, I guess. “Like, I could kill you in your sleep!“

“Would you?“ He asks confidently, silently stating he already knows the answer.

I roll my eyes, “Of course not! But...” He cuts me off.

“Great, the offer stands on my end. I’m not a noisy nor nosey roommate so I suggest you start packing. If you choose to live in that hell-hole over living with me, I’m sorry but I’ll be hella offended, just so you know.“

Corpse sounds like he’s about to hang up on me, a decision already made, so I hurry to stop him. “Wait! What about rent?”

“Fuck the rent, pack your bags.“ And just like that, despite my efforts, he hangs up on me.

Well...this is a chance of a lifetime that I know refusing would lead me to not only remain stuck here but also put me in the hugest loser bin. There’s also the fear of being Corpse’s burden which I’ll try my best not to be - I mean, I’m a super independent person and Lord knows that if this offer came any other time or from any other person, I would’ve declined asap, no discussion.

But streaming

But sleeping properly

But having a normal life again

Yeah those are most certainly the reasons I get up and go into the closet in search on my emptied suitcase. Time to fill it up again, I guess. This time with a smile on my face and excitement fueling each and every movement of mine.

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[machinegunbun]

Did we ever get the freaky colson fic? Asking for a friend

Yenno what? I’ve been practically starving yall so i think you earned it. Ask (for a friend) and you shall receive. Buckle up kiddos, this ones a doozy.

TW?: Like? everything. everything is a problem here lmao. Just weird. H/A stands for haunted attraction, i had one in mind but it felt disrespectful to mention.

I present to you... The Freaky Fic ™

                                                           ~*~*~

You knew this interviewer had a history of asking personal questions, which meant when you came on you were completely expecting to be asked something or other in regards to you and Colsons sex life, but asking about the freakiest sex you’ve ever had still felt a little forward. You weren’t thirty minutes into what would be an hour-and-forty-three-minute podcast and he was already pulling out what you originally thought to the big guns. Your eyes met Colsons as you silently tried to decide whether or not you should avoid the question.

“I already know what it would be, I'm just not sure we should say.”

“It’s that bad?” The interviewer asks

“Well, it’s more that everyone is gonna say its white people shit. Cause it is.” You took a moment to think about the statement “It wasn’t incest though! Obviously. Just a little weird.”

“What was it?” Colson asked, mind reeling through your personal kama sutra for anything that would stand out as the freakiest. Colson and you were definitely not vanilla, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? When you’ve done so much weird stuff, it’s hard to rank which would be the weirdest.

“The [H/a].” You say, watching as a flash of recognition falls over his face

“Seriously? That’s the worst thing you could think of? Cause I can think of, like, five worse than that, just off the top of my head.”

 “I mean, it’s definitely not the freakiest, but it’s a good story without it being super embarrassing or personal.” Colson nods in agreement, mumbling a small “Right”

“Yeah, go ahead. You can tell it.” He says, turning to face you in his spinny chair.

“Okay, so, I’m very superstitious and, like, paranoid right? I mean, I literally will not sleep in a room that has a mirror facing me. It doesn’t even have to be facing me, it could be facing the wall opposite me, but it has to be covered. I don’t even really trust it when it’s covered, honestly, I prefer it to be face down to the floor. Because mirrors are supposed to be portals to the after life, or whatever, and I remember hearing that if one is facing you while you sleep it’s easier for ghosts to manipulate you. It’s not that I necessarily believe that, or that I think if I slept with a mirror facing me that I’d die or something, but that I respect it. However, I think when places are advertised as haunted they usually aren’t. I mean you see these youtubers go to these places and film all these videos and it’s just- That’s not how hauntings usually are. Ghosts have an ability, to an extent, to manipulate your emotion. Have you ever heard of someone suddenly being overwhelmed by an emotion because they believe a loved one is near? It’s more like that, it’s very spiritual. Being haunted, coming from someone who ghosts seem to love, is nine times out of ten nothing like what Hollywood portrays it to be. It’s not to say that I think every one of these youtubers is lying, I think some of them definitely are, or that they were scared and when you’re scared it’s easy to blow little noises out of the water, but mostly I think it has to do with the places themself.”

Your story was cut off by the interviewer asking a question, 

“Hold on, you aren’t about to make a joke about freaky also meaning spooky, right?”  The interviewer asks

“I mean, you could totally make that joke, but it’s definitely a little kinky. I’m just giving some background.”

“Okay, continue.”

“Where was I? Oh, yes. I think when you go somewhere that is advertised as haunted they are selling you an experience. If you went to the [H/a] and nothing happened, some people would be disappointed by that and would want their money back, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“I think some of these places have audio recordings and mechanised doors, things that they can use to manipulate every room and give you a good scare. This is all theory, by the way, so don’t sue us.”

“You really think it's more plausible that they have a whole control room to scare people and that none of the workers have ever squealed than believe that these places are just… haunted?” The interviewer asked

“I don’t know. Maybe, if they only allowed people with a certain seniority and made them sign an NDA? And if the ones who control it get to give their coworkers a little scare so they come online and say they’ve had their own experiences? Yeah, I think it makes sense, and it's making them money, so why would they stop?”

“Okay, I guess.” He nodded along, entertaining the idea

“But, I also believe that if you talk to ghosts or call on them they will show up, so it’s kinda” you made a scale motion with your hands before continuing.

“Anyway, I went on board with this in mind. We were in our room, cuddled up on the bed and-” you took a moment to recall that night “I don’t remember if we were waiting for something to happen, or if it already had and we were waiting for something else. Anyway, we must’ve gotten bored, because we started making out.”

The crappy old hotel sheets shifted under you as your lips met Colsons, his warm hand reaching over to rest on your lower back. The kiss quickly became heated, your mouths smashing into one another, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip while his hand pulled you closer, your own reaching down to rub his growing bulge.

A short, fast knock came from the wall, breaking both the kiss and the silence.

“Oh, do you like that?” You ask, continuing to massage him through his loose sweatpants. Colson originally thought you had been referring to him, but quickly caught onto the fact that you were addressing the ‘ghost’. 

“Hm, what about this?” You continued, kissing your way down his body, pulling his pants down when you got to them and sliding his tip between your lips. A barely audible creak erupted from the room beside you, the bathroom sink had turned on, a small stream of water pouring aimlessly down into the sink. 

“Does that make you wet?” You ask, sucking one of his balls into your mouth as you stroke him. Colson found the whole act to be a bit odd, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself, so he let you continue. As fucked up as it was, the idea of a third party watching as the two of you were doing your thing was really getting you going. It wouldn’t have been a big deal to some, other than the fact that the supposed third party was a ghost.

“Do you like watching us fuck?” You slid your mouth down the length of his prick, hollowing out your cheeks before coming back up to continue “Tell me what you want me to do to him next.” You offer up, glancing up at Colson who looked equal parts freaked out and turned on.

“You’re crazy. God that’s hot.” He said, throwing his head back while you let out a small laugh. A book slides from the coffee table across the room, falling to the floor and landing on its spine, flipping open to a random page. You weren’t entirely sure what that implied, but the only thing that came to mind was him fucking you on that table. You took a moment to ponder it before deciding if you tried it would break and that you didn’t wanna bother paying the place for a new one.

You began kissing your way back up his body instead, admiring his tattoos as you go. Your lips landed back on his, reaching down to slide the tip of his prick through your folds, gathering your arousal. Stopping the kiss for a moment, you opened your mouth to take a breath. Colson took this opportunity to spit in your mouth, connecting your lips again soon after.

“Think the ghost liked that?” He said, reaching down to grab his hard dick from your hand, teasing your hole. You shrugged, leaning back into the kiss, moving your hips along with his movements. 

After a minute or two of teasing, you swore you felt the bed begin to shake. It started off slow and small, almost as if Colson was shaking under you and it was transferring to the bed, before slowly building to a much more noticeable rumble.

“Oh, I think it wants us to shake the bed.” You say, a smirk playing on your lips, a gasp falling past them as you felt colson slip inside you. You happily obliged, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. You didn’t realise how badly you needed this, you couldn’t help the moans slipping past your lips as you fucked each other as hard as you could manage, trying your best to make sure the bed shook. You were looking down at Colson when suddenly his face disappeared, replaced by impenetrable darkness.

“What the fuck.” The interviewer mentioned, more amused than judgemental “I can't believe you’re telling me this. I can’t believe this isn’t the freakiest shit you’ve ever done.”

“Well, the ghost thing was kind of a joke. I mean, it happened, but it was more about the fact that someone was obviously watching us, or the concept of that.”

“Right, right. You guys like an audience, I see.”

“While it was dark though, I swear I felt a hand slide up the side of my thigh, I know it wasn’t Colsons cause I could-” You cut yourself off “I’m not gonna say how, but I felt both of his hands on me.” 

“Oh shit, forreal? You never told me that part.” Colson said, you gave a small nod in his direction before continuing.

 “But then the lights came back on.”

The lights had only been off for about a minute, small sounds of things moving barely audible over the sounds you two had been making, Colson flipping you over in the dark, pounding away at your hips. When they flicked back on, the room was messy, your eyes scanned the room, falling on the complimentary ouija that sat on the table first. It had fallen out of its box, the lid on the floor next to it. Next, you realized the closet had slid open, it had one of those bendy doors that made it so when you slid it open it bent out towards you, they were called bifold closet doors, if you remembered correctly. 

It was slid halfway open to reveal the empty closet behind it, the only thing adorning the shelf being a couple lone close hangers. As you watched, one looked as if it were smacked off and fell to the floor.

“It wasn’t hot anymore at that point. I didn’t see anything, I think it was my paranoia-- remember when you were a little kid laying in bed and you were like, there is a person crouching beside my bed right now and if I look over the edge at them they will have no more incentive not to kill me?” A silent understanding “It was like that, I don't know how but I know what they look like and I was fully convinced that person was crouching next to us on the bed and if I looked over there I would see him. Because the bed was on the wall, and it’s a big bed, a queen I believe, and colson and I are laying with our head at the foot of it, there was plenty of room to the side of us cause we weren’t exactly in the middle. “Wait, you said that you believed the hauntings were mechanical, so do you think this was a ghost, or a worker?”

“I think it may have been the lady at the front desk, because when we came out she asked us if we were having a good day. I don't know. I don’t think I’ve ever been turned off so fast, I mean at first the idea of a ghost or a worker watching us have sex was hot, but the thought of that… thing being there with us-- That wasn’t hot. We just, kinda, silently put our clothes on and walked out to the lobby. We went back later and got our stuff and checked out early. All I know is it was a dumb fucking idea.”

The day after the interview was released twitter was filled with variations of “If Mgk and his girlfriend wanted an audience they could’ve just asked me.” 

Guess you should’ve expected that one.

#machinegunkelly #machinegunkelly smut #machinegunkelly fic #mgk #mgk smut #mgk fic #machinegunkelly fanfic #machinegunkelly fanfiction #mgk fanfic #mgk fanfiction #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson baker fic #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker fanfic #colson baker x reader #mgk x reader #machinegunkelly x reader

[bubbleteaimagines]

Meant to Be

Chris Evans Oneshot

Summary: In which you and Chris are meant to be, in one life or the other

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of an age gap, angst, mentions of death, this is so sad but listen to this song while reading to have your heart ripped out

you glared at the back of chris’ head, or rather the back of his plane seat.

you were mad, and you were mad because you didn’t even have the right to be mad.

he hadn’t done anything wrong, technically. if you subtracted the fact that he had broken up with you months ago and had started dating a new woman shorty after then yes, chris evans had been perfectly innocent.

but no, instead it had been you that messed up. it had been you that couldn’t keep her fat mouth shut, word vomiting all over chris just before the plane ride.

you still cringed as you remember the moment.

you were standing outside of the airport, all cast members of the avengers headed to tokyo for press and interviews.

chris had been standing alone and for some reason, you had decided to take your final shot. you walked straight up to him, puffed out your chest, and blurred out how you were still in love with him like an idiot.

honestly, if you could have picked a time for an asteroid to suddenly destroy the earth then that would have been it.

there were no words to explain the awkwardness of your words, and how chris’ face looked as he gently explained to you that he was with someone now.

someone that wasn’t you. someone that wasn’t twenty years younger than him, someone more mature and most importantly, someone that wanted all the things he wanted.

you had to admit, it stung.

it stung bad that the only reason he broke up with you was because of your age.

“we’re too different,” he had said, “you’re only twenty and i’m almost forty. we just don’t want the same things anymore.”

what he meant to say was that he just didn’t want you anymore. and it killed you, it tore you apart everyday that you had lost the love of your life over a damn number.

what was a couple years when you had a romance like yours and chris’? you were so happy together. you had so much fun. there was never a dull moment and you loved each other so passionately, so deeply, that everybody you met would comment on it.

or, at least that’s what you thought.

but months later you were still left with a bitter taste in your mouth when you remembered that wasn’t your reality anymore.

he wasn’t yours anymore.

“you okay kid?” rdj looked at you worriedly as you bit the inside of your cheeks to keep from crying.

“no,” you whispered lowly so that chris or anyone else couldn’t hear you. “i did a stupid thing today. before we got on the plane, i...”

“ah. that,” robert winced as he reminisced the moment, and the awkward silence that followed.

“yes, that,” you sniffled, still staring at chris’ head. “i-i can’t believe i did that. i’m so stupid. chris was right — how would he ever want me back when i keep acting like a child?”

“hey,” rdj frowned and shook his head. “you’re not stupid. you were emotional. it happens to the best of us.”

“does it really?” you wonder, not believing it. “because right now, it seems like i’m the only one suffering.”

it was true — chris seemed absolutely fine. you never saw him crying in the tabloids after the breakup. you never saw him posting sad quotes on social media or shutting down completely.

in fact, it was the opposite. he seemed happier without your relationship. happier without you.

a sob bubbled up in your throat. you quickly ran for the bathroom.

chris and rdj both frowned at your disappearing figure, but chris also felt a pang of sadness.

he couldn’t help it, — how could he? you were once upon a time the absolute light of his life. for two years, you were his anchor. his rock. his pride and joy, the reason he wanted to come home every night.

chris had loved you with everything in his being. more than any woman he had ever before. you were the love of his life, but you were also someone he had let go.

to this day, he still didn’t know why he did it.

he didn’t know why he left you in hysterics that faithful day, begging him for an explanation. begging him not leave.

it still hurt when he thought about it. it still haunted his dreams, still caused him to twist his face in pain.

he hated hurting you. he always did.

but in a way, letting you go was to help you more than hurt you.

he knew that you were significantly younger than him. but still, he had tried to fool himself into thinking you could both work when it was clear you wanted different things.

chris wanted a family. he was ready to settle down, ready for you to get married and have children.

but you weren’t.

like any twenty year old, you wanted to party and see the world and maybe adopt a dog. but kids? marriage? you had barely experienced anything. you wanted more time, you had begged him to give you more time, but time wasn’t something chris had.

he wasn’t getting any younger.

but you were. you still had a young and fighting spirit and chris didn’t want to dampen it by forcing you into a life you weren’t ready for.

so he ended it.

he met another woman. they talked, they wanted the same things.

chris was happy. or at least, he tried to tell himself that. he tried to tell himself that he loved his girlfriend, loved that she wanted everything he wanted. he loved that he could finally have the life he’d always wanted.

only...it wasn’t.

because you weren’t in it.

-

the plane rocked vicicously as you stumbled back to your seat, eyes red.

thankfully, nobody decided to comment on it but you could see the frown on scarlet’s face and the concern on jermey’s. you could feel anthony wanting to say something, but he was right by chris and he didn’t wanna risk any drama.

not now. you all were supposed to be happy — you were promoting the biggest movie of your lives!

but excitement hardly reached you at all. hardly touched you at all, sadness blocking away any positive emotions.

“you okay?” robert asked again as you sat back down.

you stared at the floor for a moment before letting out a small nod. “i will be,” you said, not bothering to hide your voice this time.

chris frowned at this. he gripped the seat a little tight as the plane shook again.

“why don’t you relax?” rdj suggested, “have some water. try to get some sleep. we’ll be in tokyo soon.”

“where are we now?” you asked, trying to distract your mind.

“i think maybe...somewhere over indonesia? i dunno, the pilot didn’t specify. she just said—”

“ah!”

robert was cut off by the plane shaking again, but this time, it was more deadly.

you jolted to the left, a scream escaping your lips as you went flying out of your seat.

it had seemed you had forgotten to put your seat belt back on once you got back to your seat, and you tumbled into the aisle as the plane tilted in a deadly position.

“y/n!” oxygen masks were quickly administered to everybody on the plane. anthony had to fight chris to put on his, stopping him from taking off his seat belt and helping you.

“chris, no! you need this!”

“like hell! y/n needs me!” chris panicked as he saw your frame go flying.

scarlet screamed as the plane began to twist, the terrified voice of pilot administering the worst news possible.

“the engines have failed! the plane can no longer support itself! we’re going down!”

robert tried his best to reach out for you; to grab you and pull you to safety.

but it was as no use. the plane hit something hard and in a split second your body disappeared as the plane was literally torn apart.

the last thing he remembered was chris screaming for you before it all went black.

-

chris didn’t know how long it was before he finally woke again.

all he knew was that when he did, everything hurt like hell.

he groaned as the aches began to spread in his body, slowly peeling his eyes open to face the bright sunlight.

“h-hello?” his voice was horse. weak. “i-is anybody there?”

he cried out as he tried to move and felt pain emitting from his side. but as painful as it was, he knew he had to get up.

“chris?!”

several frantic voices called out his name, gasps echoing throughout the air. he moaned as someone dropped down beside him, the embrace that they pulled him into causing pain to shoot all over his body.

“oh my god, he’s alive!”

the voice belonged to scarlet. he could vaguely make out her blonde hair, and her figure as she stood over him.

“chris?”

anthony sooned joined her. “is that you buddy? can you hear us?”

“loud and clear,” chris moaned out. “w-what happened? why does everything...hurt?”

the only thing he remembered was seeing you run to the bathroom. and then, it all just went blank as if someone had erased his memories.

anthony’s face was as serious as he had ever seen it. but even more than that, it was grim. full of worry and hurt.

scarlet was the same. she had tears in her eyes and dirt on her expensive clothes that didn’t belong there. chris furrowed his eyebrows.

“we...” anthony swallowed thickly. “we were in a...crash. the engines — they stopped working. we barely had time to prepare before the plane...”

“oh my god,” chris was suddenly alert, panic filling very inch of him as he sat up.

he remembered now. he remembered seeing your figure flying all over the plane because you didn’t have a seat belt on. he remembered reaching for you, yelling your name and screaming for you.

he remembered begging any god that would listen to spare you before he blacked out.

“y/n!”

his eyes widened in horror. where were you?! he searched the premise quickly.

you weren’t anywhere sight. along with robert, jeremy, and hemsworth you were missing.

chris felt a feeling of absolute dread wash over him.

“no,” he whispered, quickly standing up. he ignored every pain in his body. he ignored scarlet and anthony’s warnings to take it easy.

he didn’t care. he didn’t care about himself anymore. his focus is was on you, and where the hell you were at the moment.

“y/n!” he yelled again, shaking his head frantically. “where is she? WHERE IS SHE?!”

both scarlet and anthony flinched at his tone. never, and they meant never, had chris yelled at them before.

“she’s alive,” scarlet answered immediately, trying to calm a frantic chris. “she’s alive, but...”

“it’s not looking good, pal,” anthony’s voice cracked, causing chris’ stomach to sink. “we found her but...she wasn’t wearing a seat belt. and when the plane crashed...she got stuck under some rubble.”

“oh god,” chris felt he was gonna be sick. “can i see her? where are the others? are they helping her? take me to her!”

“robert, jeremy and chris are all alive,” scarlet said. “they’re trying their best...”

scarlet’s voice fell on deaf ears as chris decided to just go see for himself. he was tired of them dancing around it. he wanted to see you. he wanted to know that you were okay, that you were alive.

“y/n!”

scarlet and anthony yelled after him but he paid them no mind, running through the rubble to find you.

the entire plane that they rented for you guys was in pieces. the wings had been ripped off, the cockpit was miles away, and the back of the plane, where you were sitting, was scattered everywhere.

“y/n!” chris tried again, his voice nearly going hoarse from yelling so loud.

but then this time, he did get a response.

he whipped around as someone called out his name, but disappointment filled his veins as he saw that it was only jermey.

“chris, buddy...” rdj and chris hemsworth ran up to him, holding him back.

“chris, you don’t need to see this,” hemsworth told him grimly.

so that meant you were nearby. but where?

scarlet said you had been trapped under some rubble. but what chris expected time was maybe a seat, or a small piece of metal.

a strangled cry left his throat as he saw that you were trapped under one of the plane wings.

“y-y/n,” nobody could stop him as he fell to his knees by your head, the only visible part of your body.

you didn’t even know what to say as the love of your life came into view.

you wanted to say everything — so much — but your body was on fire.

if chris thought he had it bad, then you were ten times worse.

not only were your legs pinned, but also your ribs and your left arm. the only thing that hadn’t been trapped was your right arm, which was completely numb, and your head.

you were still conscious, but not by much.

you could feel it.

the sensation everyone always talked about. the tingling in your brain. the white light behind your eyes.

you were close.

“c-chris,” so help you god, you were not gonna leave this earth without speaking to him one last time. you had said your goodbyes to everybody else. as soon as they realized that they couldn’t get the metal off of you — that they weren’t strong enough, and that help wasn’t coming — you had decided to make peace with your remaining breath.

but not with chris. with chris, you didn’t want peace. you wanted love and the happiness of seeing his eyes one last time.

“y/n...” the strangled sob that left his lips wasn’t human. it was gutural, animalistic. chris was crying out for you, he was in pain. “no!”

“i don’t...have much time,” you sputtered out pathetically, blood spilling out of your mouth. “i-i’m dying.”

the revelation was clear to see, but chris still refused to accept it.

“no!” he repeated the word once again. “no, you’re not dying! y/n, you can’t die!”

“c-chris please,” black spots began to cloud your vision. but chris didn’t give up.

“what are you all just standing there for?!” he glared angrily at his friends. “help me! help me get this shit off of her!”

everyone stared at chris with a gutted look in their eyes. they turned away as he tried to lift the wing, as he tried to accomplish what they already failed at hours ago.

“mate, we tried...” hemsworth sniffed. “it’s not coming up.”

“no!” chris turned to him with such fury, such denial that it actually made hemsworth stumble back. “no, you don’t get to decide that! you don’t get to just stand there while she’s dying!”

“we didn’t!” rdj quickly stepped in. “we tried to help.”

“well then try again!” chris snapped again, pushing against the metal. scarlet sobbed as it stayed in the same place.

“t-they know it w-won’t help,” your sad voice whispered out, causing chris to pause. “t-they know i-i’m a goner anyways.”

“don’t say that,” chris sobbed as he dropped to your side again, hands reaching out to stoke your numb cheek. “don’t say that you’re dying. you’re gonna be fine...you’re gonna be f-fine.”

you could tell that even he didn’t believe it. the damage was too extensive. there was no way you were getting out of there alive.

“t-tell my family that i l-love them,” you mumbled, coughing up blood. “and sebastian a-and tom and—”

“don’t,” chris cut you off. “don’t do this.”

he wore the expression of a man being burned alive. he was in pure agony, pain clawing at every inch of him. consuming him faster than it was taking you.

“r-remember that,” you ignored him, the ringing in your ears getting louder. “remember that i love...you.”

there it was.

chris finally broke upon hearing these words. so painful for you to spit out, but yet they were important enough to waste your last breaths on. he was important enough.

“i love you too,” chris broke down, sobs racking his body as he held your hand. “i love you, so much. more than you’ll ever know. i love you for everything that you are. you’re the love of my life. i can’t live w-without you baby.”

“y-you don’t have to...s-say it back...” you gave him a pained smile. “just because i-i’m dying...i know you love h-her now. s-she’s your f-future. i-i’m just sorry we never h-had a chance,” your eyes began to flutter.

“no, no, no, no!” chris whimpered. “it was never her, baby. i don’t love her. it was always you. you’re my future. p-please y/n, you’re the mother of my kids. you’re my wife. it was always gonna be you, no matter what,” he shook his head. “always and forever, we’re meant to be.”

“m-meant to be,” you stuttered out, a ghost of a smile on your face. if you had to die again, you’d happily go out with those words being the last thing you ever heard.

chris bawled as he watched the light finally leave your eyes and your body slump. you almost looked peaceful, as if you were smiling in your sleep, but he knew better.

the love of his life was gone.

“chris? chris? look at me!” robert grabbed chris by the shoulders as he started hyperventilating, pounding at the soil with his fists. “look at me, buddy!”

“she’s gone,” chris cried as robert held him in his arms, “s-she,”

his eyes began to flutter close as he struggled to get the words out. suddenly, it became harder to breathe. black spots clouded his visions and chris’ body began shutting down with every breath, unable to cope with your death.

“what’s happening?!” anthony yelled as chris painfully slumped over, his body going limp in robert’s arms.

shakily, the older man held two fingers to his neck and prayed that he wasn’t gone, too. he prayed that the universe didn’t take chris and you, all in one day.

but they knew.

they knew the minute he pulled his hand back, dropping his head lowly in defeat. they knew before he even opened his mouth. they knew as he pulled away, resting chris’ body gently next to yours.

“he’s gone.”

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans angst

[vminity21]

+1 | kth

Pairing: HighschoolCrush!Taehyung X StillProcessingIt!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): slight language use, angst (if you read b/w the lines), pretty much smutty kissing, hand groping, mention of alcohol, breast worship, nipple play; Rated: 18+

Summary: When a crush you had in high school unexpectedly returns to your life six years later, this is the experience you have with him when you collected the courage to invite him over to hangout.

Credit to: @suhdays​ for the amazing cover!

Inspiration comes in the form of little expectancy especially when life seems to throw a curveball you never dreamed would be a potential possibility; but, here you are, tapping upon the keyboard of your five-year-old laptop decorated in stickers of celebs you've admired over the years mingled with relevant quotes that have bustled yet again- inspiration that motivates you day by day to continue to be the human being that you are. Inspiration though can appear in lyrical melodies broadcasted globally for millions to pine over; or, published in numerous pages creating imaginary worlds where ones can escape to; or, sketched in a meticulous design to build whatever idea had been desired to come to life; or, filmed in scenes of an edited story by talented persons determined to enter the spotlight in any way they can; or, painted along a canvas in colors of calculated detail bringing forth the picture of accomplishment. Inspiration derives from a mere moment- one that sparks the instinct to gather the materials needed to pour out your heart in ways that may bring a sense of peace.

For you, it used to be in the lines of a song penciled into a crinkled notebook from your backpack hidden away for no one to discover; it used to be countless childhood journals where you expressed your inward battles in order to find enough solace to sleep at night. You've lost your touch over the years because life changes in the blink of an eye, as you grow older, and work can distract from the time taken to focus on yourself; thankfully graduating college to gain the degree you now behold landed you a job, one you hope lasts for many years, and you are currently living in a two-bedroom apartment with your best friend, Monica, who's presently slumbering as you brush some loose strands of hair from your vision.

Your dog is curled at the end of your bed as you write, which is something that you haven't done in what feels like forever, but the reasoning behind this sporadic urge ignited when the familiar pair of brown eyes from six years prior, re-entered your world without your preparation and his presence from a recent night shared seems to echo in every space of your brain to where you've finally had enough. It's about time to reach out, the devil on your shoulder whispers, but the angel sitting on the opposite begs to differ. Shaking your head, you pause momentarily, cracking your knuckles before resting your forehead on the desk, exhaling slowly while the memory of his touch seems to haunt your skin.

He was someone you once admired in high school- roaming the hallways where girls giggled giddily each time he'd pass by; star of the basketball team, rising popularity to the point everyone knew his name, collecting homework answers from budding friendships, and it all began once he started his junior year at a new school- the school where you attended. But the difference that set him apart from the typical cliché's of the prevalent students you never seemed to relate to, was that he talked to absolutely everybody and anybody- no judgment on what group the person took part in, his kindness won the hearts of many other than the evident attraction of his physical features. He didn't care who you were or what you were into, he would be your friend, and that, considering he was viewed on a higher level, made him even more special.

Despite never admitting it then, you had a crush on him. He was more of an acquaintance, but you enjoyed his company when he came around, and when a past friend, who is now married with a few kids, used to have a crush on the same person, your heart sank, because with every guy thinking she was hot, you felt as though you would never stand a chance. Especially not with this guy who made your hands jittery and the beat in your chest skip- the guy who is none other than Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung would frequent the chorus room at times when you and your past friend would practice music pieces and he always was fond of your singing voice- something he praised you for often, while his attention was received from his talent regarding sports. Something he was so good at that it was spread that he may have gained quite the scholarship for college if he decided to go. There were memories of bravery where you seized the day just to steal a conversation and a hug; at one time, scribbling the words 'hot af' with an arrow pointing where he signed your friend, Min Yoongi's, yearbook; Yoongi playing it off as though he had no idea who the culprit was when Taehyung asked who wrote it. Utter surprise can't even fathom when you along with Taehyung were voted 'Most Likely to be Famous' by your graduating class when senior year was conquered. The inside joke was for you to hold the basketball while he placed his hands upon the keys of a piano, the picture you still couldn't process happened, but always remained grateful for.

Six years flew by and the conversation never necessarily held, but there were the rare messages from social media where he'd reach out hoping all had been well with you. Interestingly enough, a cover you posted harmonizing with a fellow singer happened to be his absolute favorite, one of the few Instagram posts he'd commented on, and one of the few singing videos he continuously would listen to repeatedly without your knowledge until a few weeks ago when he revealed that to you. A cover that is now near to be a four-year-old video that he still finds uplifting when he hears you and the way your voice blended so well with the other female. Your mind is reeling because after all this time, and even now, there are remains of the aftershock, trying to forget the feel of him, when there's no way you can, not with everything so fresh on your mind. So fresh on your heart.

It all occurred when Yoongi, who kept in touch with you occasionally after graduation brought you up to Taehyung who happened to think of you earlier when listening to his favorite cover of yours, and he agreed he'd like to hang out. He asked if his friend, Hoseok could join you, Monica, and Yoongi which of course you said yes to learn how sweet you found it, that he had traveled within the span of a day after visiting his grandparents, because he is a man of his word, planned to come see you even though the drive was five hours out of his way. The night was filled with so much laughter mixed with serious conversations to the point the card game that was supposed to be played was never finished, and it sprung the desire of wanting to see Taehyung again, and you couldn't come to terms with never knowing so after some encouragement from Monnie and Yoongi, you messaged T to hang out a few days later, but never opened his reply until you were safely home from work.

Taehyung: Gotcha! Hmmm, I haven't decided on what I intend on doing. Either being with family or hanging out with friends. If I don't hang out with family, you could be my plus 1 or bring whomever or vice versa

[Y/N]: Sorry I just got home from work! I'll definitely be your plus 1 if hanging with family doesn't work out! Sounds like a plan!

He asked if you wanted anything from the store when it was confirmed he was on his way which you responded with your typical answer of no, and with music playing from your Bluetooth speaker, you were highly humiliated when you lost track of four minutes of time, opening a message from him to see that he had been there, at your door. Heart racing you rushed to unlock it, head spinning when you saw he leaned against the stair railing with a plastic bag of two Arbor Mist wine bottles dangling from his hand, him promising everything was fine despite your profuse apologies- him slipping his phone in his back pocket while he followed you into your home.

Monnie happened to be staying the night with her family, so it would be just the two of you tonight, besides your dog who bounced at his legs while he reached down to pet her fluffy head. Taking in the sight of him, now that was something you found hard to believe. Just a simple pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt with a black jacket complementing the dark tendrils of hair spread across his forehead leading to the carefully sculpted lining of his jaw nearly brought you to your knees, but you held it together long enough to settle across from him at your dining room table. He had taken off his shoes at the door remembering upon a few days prior, and he set out the wine while you jumped to retrieve wine glasses (Yoongi happened to purchase for you) while banter still related to greetings.

One thing that truly intrigued you when first seeing Taehyung after six years were words, he had said that touched your heart more than you'd like to profess. "That's why I try to enjoy every moment with people because you never know what day will be your last," and you knew right then, that if there was anyone you wanted to share a moment with, it was him, and there he was, right before you, smiling about something you said while the sound of the fruity liquid-filled each glass.

"I really truly do not understand what you are so afraid of. What do you even have to lose?" Monnie tinkered with the lens to her camera while she sauntered through the living room. Exasperated from anxiety, you sucked in your lips before teasingly throwing her the side-eye.

"My dignity,"

"Oh c'mon," she paused, lifting a brow. You had been talking nonstop on how bad you wanted to invite Taehyung over, but fear of rejection including the fear of humiliation seemed to overwhelm you, although deep down you knew your best friend in the entire world was correct. You did not nor do you have anything to lose.

"Well!" You squawked, raising your palms dramatically in the air before slapping them to the sides of your thighs, "Why the hell would Kim Taehyung ever want to hang out with me anyway? Do you not see how farfetched this all is?"

"Bold of you to assume that my life isn't already farfetched enough as it is-"

"Not! The point!"

Monnie sighed, and when she saw the way your shoulders slumped in disappointment that shouldn't have been an issue, to begin with, she stepped closer, placing her hand on your shoulder, "First off, you are overthinking this, and you shouldn't. Besides, I think after hanging out as a group, he only sees you as a friend, meaning no expectations. So, go into it with that mindset okay? I'm sure he'd love to hang out with you. Secondly," she smiled, her serene expression filled with promises she always kept, "You've waited six years for this. I think you should ask him to hang out."

"You really think so?" Your grin reached your hopeful eyes, and the feeling in your chest seemed to react more positively despite your earlier turmoil.

"Yeah. The dude owes us a chair anyways,"

"Ah!" You cackled, back pressed against the dining room table as you remembered literally a few days ago when Taehyung accidentally broke a spindle of the chair in half with his foot when Yoongi scared him just by suddenly walking down the hallway. "I don't think I've ever seen a man so embarrassed."

"I'm not saying to hold it over his head, but," Monnie held up her index finger, "I think that gives him enough reason to come back," she giggled, setting her camera on the dining room table before waltzing into the kitchen.

You shrugged, "At least we can still sit on it."

"Look at it, it's staring at me," Taehyung pointed swiftly at where the vacant spindle would have been, your laughter reverberated throughout the space.

"T, really, you do not owe us new chairs. I promise, it's fine," you reassured him, realizing your cheeks were sore from how much you'd been smiling since he entered your 'realm of refuge' as you liked to describe your apartment. He snapped a picture of it, probably with the intention of getting a new chair for you and Monica regardless, and you found that appreciative although you would be happy if he didn't.

Shit. You pause from the computer screen, leaning back into your chair before folding your arms tight across your chest. Eyeballing the cursor, your vision narrows as it blinks, waiting for you to add more words to the memory that seems to spin in a cycle with the subtle goal of not stopping. Or, so you figure. If recalling every little detail isn't already hard enough, reliving the reminiscence of his fingers twirling in your hair, his sweet laugh when he looked at you, or the way he held you so tight-

But, everything in between, leading up to those mesmerizing flashes are just as important to you as what it led to. Maybe it was the conversation- the three hours of conversation before the move to the sofa which it was hard to fully focus on what else was being said because how could you properly concentrate when the one person, you'd been so worried about spending time with was seriously conversing with you like the pair of you had been friends your whole lives?

Miraculously, you were able to gather the stories of past vacations that resulted in mild disappointment revolving around the complaints of people surrounding him, or the goal of visiting as many places as possible leading Taehyung to scribble down a list of where he'd been to reveal you both have equally been to the same amount of places. Of course, the thrill of going on a mini adventure with him brought an excitement you haven't felt in a while; even the story of why he was transferred to your high school years ago due to a misunderstanding, and when the pair of you made your way to the couch, he nestled into one corner while you gladly took the other, wishing you could snuggle closer but fear prevented you from doing so.

It seemed as though that he didn't want to watch the movie anyhow, because he talked to you as though he never wanted to stop, and eventually it led to you asking one too many times if he was okay with spending the rest of the night with you. "It's up to you, I'll stay if you want me too," he promised, the way your heart fluttered when you replied, "Yes, can you please stay? I don't want you to go."

"Alright, alright! I'll stay," he smiled widely, both of his large hands reaching out, and there was not one ounce of hesitation from you- your hands grasped his before your dog jumped to beg for attention, trying to lick at his face causing your hands to undo. Laughter was contagious with Taehyung, and still cuddled into the corner of the couch, you were so elated that he was going to stay, you reached to hug him, his arms wrapping around you, the feel of your bodies aligning putting the biggest smile on your face. It was crazy how everything was seeming to fall into place- the stars aligning as though it was all magic; and, you couldn't get past how right everything felt. How right he felt. Pulling away, his smile never left him, "Are you shy?" His arm remained draped around your shoulders, and timidly you peer at his surprised gape, his black hair almost covered his crescent eyes.

"I mean... Yeah, I can be," you murmured, reaching to hug him again, but something washed over you this time, a thought that had crossed your mind repeatedly that you just couldn't take it anymore. The side of his face was blurred, placing your palm upon his cheek, and without even a moment of doubt, you kissed him. A sudden decision, but one of the best ones you could have made.

His lips were so soft, the way his mouth just seemed to mold with yours for only a few mere seconds, and the shock on his face when you pulled away, paired with the realization that his hands were held in the air, you hadn't expected his reaction. Shit! You cursed inwardly, immediately jumping back to persistently make sure he was okay; even when he moved to cuddle with you, him claiming everything was fine, but that he couldn't believe you kissed him being the both of you never once saw this coming especially six years ago during the high school days. His hand was fidgety as he swiftly rubbed your shoulder, your head buried on his chest while your mind spun in a continuous loop of how you could not believe that you kissed Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung.

He became quiet- too quiet, concern etched in your expression, maneuvering yourself back to the opposite corner of the couch, so you could face him. "T, are you sure you're okay? Did I freak you out?"

"No, no, I just can't believe you kissed me," he was in awe, eyes dazed as he ran his slim fingers through his hair, "Like, really I never saw this coming,"

"I mean, have you looked in the mirror?" You teased, knowing damn well he'd been aware of you finding him attractive, and he shook his head in dismissal of your compliment as he chuckled; it took you a whole sixty seconds to realize you were holding his hand, fingers linked, and him asking if you were nervous due to your clammy palm, though you tried to swear up and down you were not, the next round of words he said nearly brought you to tears when he finally spoke.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short," he looked you in the eyes without any faltering, although you tilted your head in mild confusion as to why he was saying this, to begin with, "I don't think you realize how much of an impact you've made on others, especially guys," ah, he was letting you down easy, and you knew it, but you're too stunned to speak as you listened, "I don't think you give yourself enough credit either. You're a great singer, you're pretty much a musician, you love animals, you have a job, you live on your own. Really, you shouldn't sell yourself short-"

"T," you breathed, pleading almost, but trying not to make it obvious, but he never broke eye contact, "We don't have to date or anything, I just- I just wanted a moment with you." You mentioned what inspired you to spend time with him- exposing how a few nights ago when he said he wanted to enjoy every moment with people- you knew you wanted to have a moment with him, too. Memories from high school were spoken momentarily, thirty minutes passing by which included a made-up handshake as well as the subtle twirl of his fingers in your hair- him complimenting how good your hair looked which made you blush even more.

Just when you thought he wasn't already smooth enough, you noticed Taehyung started teasing your dog, her pouncing at his chest before he'd lean in closer to you. Eyebrows scrunching, it took you a hot second to realize what he was doing. Each time Taehyung would scoot closer to you, he'd kiss you, sending the pair of you in boisterous laughter when your dog would try to break the kisses by jumping in between your faces. The more your lips would touch, it'd last a bit longer and longer, your hand clinging to the side of his jacket to pull him closer when things really started moving fast, eventually your dog left the room with the hint that attention was no longer available for her.

Still lip-locked, Taheyung's hands gripped your hips while you willingly moved to straddle him, arms resting on the top of the couch on either side of his head, the tip of your tongue glided along his, while he fanned his hands along your ass. You refrained from moaning into his kiss despite how bad you wanted to, yet you held yourself together, involuntarily grinding your clothed heat where his erection was felt. T smacked your ass before slithering the tips of his fingers to your shirt, slowly unbuttoning one by one.... One by one. His eyes were hazed from how much he was craving your mouth, and with a seductive nod in his direction, he continued until he made it to the final goal, your kisses never planning to stop, the sides of your shirt being brushed away for him to take in the sight of you.

"Ooh my God," his eyes darkened in evident lust when he saw the way your black bra cupped your breasts, "Oh my God," his voice deepened, him hardly knowing what to do with himself while your smirk remained subtlety on your mouth. Though you hadn't needed him to ask, he politely waited for your permission to touch your chest, a quick pang of frilly nerves ghosted your stomach.

"Yeah," you breathed seductively, gradually moving to capture his lips, trying to hold back a giggle when he gently moved his hands to your back, "You're not going to find it there," you mused, referring to the clip. He paused as if panicked, "It's in the front," you finally admitted, but failing miserably, Taehyung let you take initiative, you unclipped your bra uncovering what is now widening his brown eyes. "Oh my God!" His reaction made you want to cum right then and there, especially when his fingers made their way to squeeze your nipples when his mouth returned to yours. Taehyung worshiped your breasts, and for some odd, yet arousing reason, you lived for it.

You're uncertain of when the tv was switched off, and even now, as your hands continue to fly across the keyboard, one thing you do recall, one of the lingering memories of the evening was your shirt being off, thrown onto the floor mingled with your bra, and without any warning, Taehyung hoisted you in the air, your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso while he tightened his hold around your body. His steps were painfully careful, kissing you roughly while your arms kept their place behind his neck, and the direction was being taken to your bedroom where your heart pounded so anxiously to be. His jacket was shed before the bold act, and all that was left was his gray t-shirt and jeans. Laying you down with a bounce from your mattress, he remained above you, and your eyes refused to stray especially when he reached to remove his shirt- his smooth skin greeting yours sending waves of goosebumps spreading among your limbs.

There was no one like him in your eyes, and there never would be. Not in your heart. And with how perfect everything was going; you were not prepared for how hard it was going to be to stop before things went too far. Because what if he doesn't exactly feel the same? He was letting you down easy not even an hour ago, and here you were, hopes so high, you weren't sure how you were going to erase them back down. He kissed you until you couldn't breathe, your fingers dug into your comforter, while his palms glided all over your frame for however long you let him, but when he went to remove your leggings, you halted him.

Now, this is where your heart aches when you relive this part, because a conversation was held, one where you mentioned what if someone catches feelings if the both of you decided to solely be just friends with benefits? Taehyung said all you had to do was communicate with him because he was easy to get along with, and you've known this about him for six years. He was always someone easy to talk to, and you knew he would never treat you poorly over a situation like this. And, he hadn't. You made the executive decision to not sleep with him for you wanted him to remember you as the woman you are, and the woman, you've always been, and with the fear of going all the way being something that could change his image of you, you were satisfied to hear the loud echoes of his snoring after you changed into pajamas, gazing at his sleeping demeanor before you drifted into slumber as well.

When the morning came, you were not ready for him to leave, but he asked if you would walk him out, him throwing on his shirt and jacket while you rushed to brush your teeth. T asked if you had any other plans for the rest of the day which you proceeded to answer honestly with a no, as he mentioned that he was going to get breakfast.

"Let me know when you make it home," you said tenderly, "I want to know you're safe,"

"I will," he promised before you embraced him, turning just enough to place a peck to his cheek. It was his smile that decided to enter your recollection- the boxy smile that would plague you until the day you accept that you will never forget it.

And when you opened the door to the apartment where he gracefully waltzed through, you merely caught a glimpse of him leaving, ahead of you quietly shutting the door to whatever could have been.

Or, what could have started a beautiful story that has yet to unfold.

#bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #kafenetwork #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #4.3k + #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung soft #bts taehyung #bts kim taehyung #bts smut #bts angst #bts soft #bts fluff #min yoongi

[cloud9in]

The Half of It

A Mc x Poppy fic inspired by the film 

Summary: Bea, the town’s outcast is recruited by the school jock to win Poppy’s heart. But what happens when she starts falling for her as well?

Author’s Note: So this will be a multiple part series that includes scenes heavily inspired from the movie “The Half of It”. I certainly recommend watching it. My version will have different twists and a different ending, and definitely more angst. It will include mature themes as the story progresses.

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing. This is a good thing for now.

Chapter 1- 

“Love is simply the name for desire and pursuit of the whole.”

                                                   - Plato, The Symposium

It is said that when one half finds its other, there’s an unspoken understanding. A unity. And each would know no greater joy....than this. 

 ...Except this is highschool. And in my opinion, there is no other half. Maybe the other half is a paper on Greek God philosophy due at midnight. But make that four papers, including mine. 

 My name is Bea Hughes and let’s just say...this is not a very happy story. Well maybe some parts are, but you’ll have to read to find out. I come from a small town called Farmsville, and when I mean small, I mean really small. Except the highschool seems fucking huge, with never ending hallways and when you do somehow find the end, there’s usually two inbreds eating each others mouths off. Lucky for me I am the epitome of antisocial, reserved, an introvert, or whatever the inferior beings, aka every other senior, calls me when they think I can’t hear. But I hear everything, including that one time Bradley Denbrough, upcoming hotshot actor, or so he claims, found out about a crush a poor unsuspecting freshman had on him. Everybody knew what Bradley and his goons did to that boy, even the adults, but no charges were pressed. This town is as conservative as it gets, but no one knows of my secret. I carry this school on my back when it comes to having everyone graduate, but that’s all I am to them, a pawn. And that’s all I wanted to be, nothing more and nothing less. I preferred to be in the shadows. 

 ***

 ...Except the mandatory Senior Talent Show forced Bea out of her hibernation hole. The thought haunted her as she sat in the dance studio, the last fucking place she wanted to be. Dance was so not a Bea kinda thing, but the blonde knew exactly why she granted herself the misery of picking the class. Poppy Min Sinclair, the golden girl of Farmsville High, the preacher’s daughter on a more serious note. She is...the most fascinating girl Bea ever laid her eyes on even if her boyfriend was a complete asshole who sermonized his duties as her future husband. Like seriously? Poppy has got to have some screws loose to date such a fake loser who plagiarizes all of his speeches at sunday church, and once literally begged Bea to write an apology letter to his father for him after completely upending their summer cabin. Except the blonde wrote the opposite of an apology, it went something like this…

 Dear beloved donkey, I mean dad,

 I am terribly sorry for inviting 20 hookers to the summer cabin. I have these strange impulses and you should at least be grateful I didn’t invite the big boss as well. His wife came though, in many, many ways. You should get the carpet changed. 

 Sincerely, your STD free son

 It was safe to say that Mr. Denbrough had a near heart attack after reading it, and Bea did kinda feel bad, kinda. He never mentioned the letter to Bradley though, instead silently calling up the owner of Teopoli Catholic Summer Camp and essentially deporting the boy to Canada for the summer. No son of his would end up in hell was what the old man preached everyday from then on. It was the quietest summer Bea had ever experienced. 

 Being the towns outcast, Bea could have her fun when she so chooses to, but that didn’t pay the bills. In fact, the multiple essays that people paid her to write was her way of surviving and taking care of her mother. They weren’t very rich but Bea worked with what she had, helping her mother manage the farm, which included getting on her knees and wrestling the pigs. And that’s how she was gifted the name “pig girl”, stupid Bradley and his fake friends just had to wander too far and catch Bea in the act. She swore a remixed video of her hog calling surfaced the web at one point and that gave the blonde her five minutes of fame. Boy was it an awful time in her life. 

 Bea worked her mother’s previous job as station master or signalman for the trains that passed through, even if it barely paid her shit. The secluded feeling of sitting in that booth and having a moment with her thoughts was enough to give her purpose. Bea was fond of poetry and it usually helped her come up with song lyrics.

 Song lyrics…

 That she would have to sing at the talent show. A huge sigh escaped her lips as she slumped further into the ground, maybe hoping she could bury herself six feet under. It wasn’t that Bea hated singing, no she absolutely loved it. Playing her guitar at night and belting out lyrics that only resulted in her mother banging on the ceiling below in efforts to shut the blonde up. But the mere fact that she’d have to sing in front of the ruthless seniors rubbed her the wrong way. Something would go wrong, it always did. Bea was shaken out of her thoughts when Poppy crossed the center of the room, moving her hips slowly to the sound of Rihanna’s voice. The class chose a slow r&b song to choreograph today and of course all eyes were on Poppy.

 If i’m your girl say my name boy

let me know i'm in control

 Her silky blonde locks swayed as she danced to the beat, hands thrusting sensually along her sides. Bea stared in awe, almost like Poppy was the only one in the room and a spotlight illuminated every movement, every curve. Except she definitely wasn’t the only one picturing Poppy in that way. Carter, the school quarterback leaned against the railing, arms crossed and eyes trailing the rise and fall of her chest. 

 Got me wondering, I’m wondering if i'm on your mind

 Bea sat up straighter but nearly lost her bodily functions when Poppy locked eyes with her before spinning away. It was simple eye contact Bea, don’t let it get to your head. You already have multiple lyrics inspired by Poppy offering the bare minimum in human interaction. She doesn’t actually like you. Poppy is popular and has the perfect life...and boyfriend, even if Bea heavily disagrees. Poppy was a bitch of course, but not a bitch bitch. Unlike the other wannabe mean girls, the blonde didn’t give Bea hell, well that was because the girl paid her zero attention. She seemed distant, off in her own world, or well in her parents world learning the strategies of business. Poppy was expected to follow in her parents footsteps and keep up with her reputation of being the richest in town, and of course a faithful future wife. So fun. But the blonde had other prosperous dreams of travelling and following her passion of music and dance. Highschool was her only outlet and she took advantage of it any chance she’d get. Bea knew this because she would ride her bike every friday night to the school and watch Poppy dance from outside the glass window. Maybe Bea realized it was kinda creepy, but she’s dumb enough to not realize her obvious growing attraction. I mean who pedals miles just to watch someone trip on their feet? 

 ***

 The sound of the bell caught everyone's attention and the teacher slowly lowered the music. Bea watched as Bradley approached Poppy and smothered her with kisses and praises. She rolled her eyes painfully, this kind of PDA definitely wasn’t it, she could have gone her whole life without seeing that. She walked silently through the crowd of kids in the hall, everyone was laughing and talking to their friends. All Bea could allow her mind to focus on was the very intimidating billboard of names a few feet across from her. 

 Winter Talent Show Sign-Ups (Mandatory For Seniors)

 Bea glared at it quietly before signing her name on the sheet, sealing her inevitable fate. Through the hustle of students, Carter watched the blonde with a yearning look from afar. This should be great…

 The next few classes were a blur and Bea eventually found herself getting up to hand Ms. Kingsley her paper. The older woman looked at her with a knowing glance as she took a generous sip of her coffee, which was 75% tequila.

 “6 different interpretations on Plato? Colour me impressed Miss Hughes.” 

 Bea shrugs nonchalant, “yeah well would you rather read their actual essays?”

 “Oh hell no.” Kingsley feigns shock as she looks at the stack of papers with a comical expression. She takes another sip, watching her younger, prodigy of a student carefully. “You know there are places outside of this godforsaken town where you can put your talents to use... Real use. I teach at Belvoire University occasionally.” Ina winks and slides Bea an application, studying her initial reaction. “It’s...in New York.”

“Damn right! The Big Apple.”

 “Kingsley you know I have to stay here. It’ll be easier for me to manage the farm and be close to home”, Bea says confidently even though her body language displays otherwise. She predicted the big sigh filling her ears before it actually happened and it still managed to faze her. “Who ever said you had to do anything? What about what you want to do?” Bea doesn’t make eye contact with Ina, that woman could convince you to do just about anything with a certain look. “No we are not doing this. You can take your reverse psychology and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I’m outta here.” The blonde stomps out of the classroom, the sound of Ina’s chuckles still ringing in her ears.

 “Hey! Everyone in this town fears God, but you know what God fears? My ability to hide a bottle of Don Julio in my left boot.” Ina pulls out the newly bought bottle and cradles it. “Come to mama.”

 ***

 Bea rode her bike alongside the dirt road, Kingsley’s words on replay the entire ride. Maybe she did deserve to experience something more than what this town had to offer. But would her mother manage without her? Sacrifices, sacrifices. Bea was used to making those for her mother after her father’s death. What would her dad think of all of this?

 “Hey!”

 He’d surely smack Bea upside the head for the little antics she pulled occasionally. And then he’d buy her vanilla coconut ice cream and ask for every single detail of what happened as they sat and laughed together. That’s the kind of relationship Bea would have had with her father, she liked to assume so. She also liked to assume that she’d get home safely everyday without a scratch, but then there’s Carter.

 “Hey wait up!” 

 The jock seemed to be running ridiculously fast and crashed right into the rear end of Bea’s bicycle, sending her face first into a mount of dirt. The initial impact was enough to boost the blonde straight back up like nothing happened and into a fighting stance, fists out and eyes wild. Very scary Bea. When she realized it was him...well it only pissed her off even more. “What the fuck Carter! You asshole!”

 “I’m sorry Bea! Here let me help-”

 “No! Move away! You- my bike- I…” Bea groans frustratingly, stepping away from the wreck as she tries to catch her breath. Carter watches her sheepishly, rubbing an envelope between his fingers awkwardly. After a few minutes of painfully uneasy silence he speaks up, “Okay...I didn’t want to ask you this way but I was wonder-”

“Oh, so you practically break my ass and now you want me to do you a favour? Real nice way of communication you have there Mr. Quarterback. What is with you and those freakishly large muscles anyways? Maybe it’s my fault I didn’t hear your avalanche built ass coming from behind.”

 “Hey! They are not freakishly large!”

 “I hate to break it to you Jackson but mine are significantly more appealing to look at.” Bea smirks widely, flexing her arm as best as she could. It’s a work in progress… just bare with her.

 It didn’t take much effort for Carter to break out into a smile and look at her fondly. Maybe there was more to this girl than just being a human dictionary. Well that’s what people called her, and he maybe believed it at first.

 Bea noticed the lack of response and shifted awkwardly, clearing her throat. “Listen, its $10 for three pages, $20 for three to ten, I'm not in the over-ten-page biz.”

 “No..no I’m not here to cheat!” Carter blurts out. “But I’ll let you know if I do plan on- anyways. I uh..” He hesitates before handing her the envelope. “What’s this?

 “Well you see it’s a letter..”

 “Yeah but who writes letters these days?”

 “I thought it seemed romantic..”

 “And I thought women writing Jeffrey Dahmer letters in jail seemed romantic”, Bea says sarcastically, her smile dropping instantly after catching a glimpse of Poppy’s name at the top of the paper. It was like the blood stopped flowing through her body for a few seconds as her mouth went dry. This had to be the work of the so-called God everyone praised in this town, or it was one cruel coincidence. Bea wasn’t sure why seeing her name made her heart beat ten times harder, but it also wasn’t a necessarily uncomfortable feeling…

 “I- I can’t help you.”

 “But if you just add a few more words-”

 “I’m not writing a letter to Poppy Min Sincla- to..to some girl for you. Letters are supposed to be authentic, from the heart, your own words, your...feelings.” Bea hurriedly turns to grab her bike, suddenly losing all interest in being social. 

 Carter was afraid this would happen. But he was stubborn. “But I can pay more for authentic!” 

 Too bad Bea was stubborn as well. “Just get a thesaurus...Good luck, Romeo.”

***

 Bea sat in her room, strumming away softly at the strings of her guitar. Some of the keys were off but the old thing still worked, and that was good enough for her. She could hear the tv blasting downstairs, her mother most likely watching the news. There’s something about old people and news, were they secretly ogling the news anchors? Just like Bea ogled Poppy any chance she could. The blonde frowned to herself, her eyebrows crunching together in question. What so hard about writing a letter to Poppy? It’s not like it's coming from her. Well it technically is, but Carter is taking the credit and Bea never had a problem with people taking credit for her words. So why did this very thought prove to be such an inconvenience? Lucky for Bea, her mind drifted elsewhere when she heard a painful snap. Even if it wasn’t physically connected to her body, she felt a horrible ache. Slowly peering down at the guitar in her hand, Bea found that the neck of the guitar had miraculously split almost clean off, a splinter of wood just holding it intact. She wanted to scream but nothing really came out, except air of course. Much to her disapproval, this was definitely a result of her strength. Stupid muscles couldn’t contain themselves at the thought of Carter being with Poppy. Now how could that be? 

 But now she had no guitar. And no guitar means no strings to strum, and no lyrics to sing, and no talent to show at the talent show. Now she was in trouble. Probably because she knew that the only way to get the money to replace the guitar would be through sealing the deal with Carter. Oh fuck it!

 ***

 “One letter. And enough money to buy a new guitar.”

 “Deal!”

 Bea turns away with a sigh, completely ignoring Carter’s high five. Now all she had to do was write this letter, and pray that Poppy wouldn’t completely consume every fiber of her being in the process.

                                 -------------------------------------------

End note: So how we feelin’? Carter and Bea Brotp??

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @zigxryanz @uselesslesbianfr @aleiramacaii @thedaft1 @alexlabhont @iamsimpforpoppy

#queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #mc x poppy #playchoices #I couldn't come up with a unique title #throw some ideas if you have #do share your opinion on this #it is valued #oblivious bea is a pain in the ass #but certainly fun to write

[youarejesting]

Mania.4

[MASTER LIST] [Mania Master list]

Beta: N/A Rating: Mature 18+ Pairing: BTS OT7 Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Comedy, Omegaverse Words: 1.3k Blood types: Namjoon, Jhope, Jungkook, Yoongi (A) Taehyung (AB) Jin, Jimin and Yoongi (O) (Jimin in real life is an A blood type)

Summary: At eighteen everyone takes a blood test to find out their blood types. A, B, or O. Each blood type represents the person’s secondary gender Alpha, Beta or Omega and can be Dominant (+) or Recessive (-).

When small thin Yoongi receives his letter he doesn’t expect A+. There was no way he was an Alpha especially not a dominant. But as time passes he shows no Alpha nor Omega tendencies and frankly he doesn’t care. Working in his father’s electrical business helps pay the bills but Yoongi’s real passion is music.

One very hot day in the roof space of a luxury apartment that Yoongi is rewiring an intoxicatingly pleasant smell churns his insides and he finds himself in need of something to quench his thirst.

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Yoongi almost felt normal, well his ‘normal’ before everything he knew turned upside and inside out. He was back to working in his father’s business and all he had to do was take one small pill. Pulling on his jumpsuit, he called his father just to confirm, he was perfectly capable of completing the work he missed.

Grabbing the keys, the bottle of pills, he decided against the stronger dose as the mild one worked perfectly fine yesterday. Getting into the van he put the address into his GPS and drove to the gated estate in which the famous band members stayed. It was a long drive but Yoongi couldn’t even bring himself to be tired, he wondered if it was the iced americano that made him happy. He repressed any thoughts that it might have something to do with the fact he was heading back to the apartment filled with the impressive Alphas and beautiful Omegas.

He would be lying if he hadn’t felt his heart flutter when he thought about seeing Seokjin and Jimin again in the flesh and a tiny flutter in his tummy when he thought of the Powerful Alpha’s each with a delicious scent that haunted him.

Yoongi pulled into the driveway and stopped before the Barrier Arm his window in line with the security booth, he leaned over showing his ID and giving his business.

“You aren’t on the list?” Yoongi frowned and called the number Seokjin had given him and it went through on the third call.

“Hello, this is Kim Seokjin,” the omega answered, making Yoongi take a sharp breath, his mouth feeling dry.

“Hey, it’s Min Yoongi, your electrician, I am out the front to finish up the repairs but I can’t get in, I can come back another day if it’s not a convenient time” Yoongi flushed as the security guard watched him, it was awkward.

“I will come down, wait there” the phone line went dead and Yoongi forced a laugh.

“Have you had a long day?” it was such an awkward question on top of an awkward situation, Yoongi wanted to leave quickly. His savior came in the form of Kim Seokjin who slipped into the car and the barrier arm was lifted.

“Why are you so pink?” Seokjin asked, placing the back of his hand on Yoongi’s forehead.

“I just made an absolute fool of myself with the gatekeeper,” Yoongi huffed his lips pursing, “I am never coming back here again,”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Seokjin laughed “I enjoy your company and I wouldn’t mind seeing you again, well that’s it you can never leave, if you see him again you will turn into a tomato”

Yoongi laughed wholeheartedly, something about Seokjin’s expressions was so lively and comical and it made Yoongi feel giddy just seeing it. Like he could play around and not be judged, not that Yoongi had ever really cared what people thought of him. It’s just he usually had a stone-cold exterior and found it awkward to speak about anything outside of a professional setting. 

So it was easy to laugh and joke around even embarrass himself in front of the omega when it couldn’t compare to what had happened during his heat, this man had seen him at his worst and yet still wanted to be friends and that's what gave Yoongi the confidence to relax.

“Come on in, let me help carry some things,” Seokjin said, “Oh, I forgot to warn you, Jimin is in heat but he is in his bedroom and that shouldn’t affect anything right?”

Yoongi shrugged unsure if it would affect him or not, he hadn’t been exposed to anyone in a heat, hell he had only had a heat once. “I’m not sure,”

“How did the appointment with the specialist go, you were available, I didn’t know if you were busy on that day so I just guessed, I hoped you could make it, it’s not easy getting into seeing the specialist there as she is very good.” Seokjin said

“She doesn’t take new patients either so I am wondering what strings you pulled to get me an appointment?” Yoongi huffed the stairs and took a lot out of him and the two stopped halfway on a small landing to catch their breath. The two laughed at one another, “I am getting too old for this?”

“Tell me about it, everyone else seems to be spring chickens and I am over here taking afternoon naps,” Seokjin laughed “The only thing that doesn’t age is my pretty face and my attitude.”

“I want a nap,” Yoongi mumbled, getting to the top of the staircase and walking down the hall until they reached a familiar door. 

Seokjin opened the door, with a cheeky grin, “You can take a nap and finish the work in an hour if you want?” 

The house was as luxurious as Yoongi remembered, he declined the offer to rest wanting to get his work finished. He stepped in hesitantly and the scents lingered in the walls carpet and floated in the air like pollen. It was captivating and safe and for the first time since he left he relaxed.

Taking out the clip board, Yoongi went over the details of where he was adding new powerpoints and light switches that he had run through the roof the last time he was here. He switched off the power as he always did for his own safety and got to work. It was easy and with every breath he felt his body relax calmer and calmer until his eyes shut for a moment.

“Jin, the air conditioner isn’t working,” Yoongi caught the most delicious scent drifting down the hallway and when he turned he saw a very naked and extremely sweaty Hoseok in his boxes.

“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t know we had guests?” Hoseok said, Yoongi didn’t want to admit it but the band members had left a strong impression on him and he spent his time researching their music and finding out about each member's personality. 

Yoongi was captivated by Jimin his singing and dancing, the way he moved was honestly so captivating that Yoongi could admit he had fallen in love with Jimin when he performed. But, his eyes were often stolen by Hoseok, in interviews he stole the spotlight and made Yoongi laugh, and in his dance he could be a total wild card. Was he sweet, sexy, tough, romantic, bouncy and light, or soft and passionate?

Hoseok seemed the total opposite of Yoongi, Hoseok was outgoing and loud by nature, and well that intrigued Yoongi a lot more than he wanted to admit.

“The power is out, because Yoongi is finishing up the electrical work,” Seokjin said exasperated, “maybe try not to…”

Seokjin dropped his voice and Hoseok giggled, “You know Jimin whines if I don’t give him what he wants.”

Moving to the fridge which was right beside Yoongi. Yoongi tried to focus on his work as he leant over the counter to reach the back wall where he was attaching wires for a powerpoint. 

Hoseok moving closer pushed his scent in Yoongi’s direction making his stomach churn and his knees weaken. He reached into his pocket and took the mild pill and he sighed in relief, knowing he was safe. 

What he didn’t expect was for Hoseok to slide past him, he put a hand on Yoongi’s waist as a preemptive warning that he was stepping behind him, and he reached up trying to grab a glass from the cupboard above Yoongi’s head.

Yoongi felt the churn in his stomach again, this time heavier, his legs shook and he gripped the counter a small whimper falling past his lips. Yoongi tried to lift his chest from the counter but it was a form of submission and his body automatically doubled over the bench for the dominant Alpha behind him. His earthy scent was intoxicating, grapefruit, pepper and cedar. He was fresh, spicy, and warm.

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