#telling her not to let the past and the searching eat her alive
Text
Thinking about volo and cogita living like a fuckton of decades but still eventually. You know. Dying. And how that would fuck up volo specifically.
Like this guy is absolutely driven by one thing and one thing only. Hes 100% ready to spend his entire life looking for a way to get up to God's doorstep to ask it why he wasnt chosen to be its most specialest boy, and the fact cogita is always sort of somewhere next to him metaphorically or literally is like an afterthought. She's his only semblance of family through one way or another and also old as balls and looking just fine for her age so of course shell just always be in her tent drinking tea, using unfathomably powerful ancient artifacts to cut the vegetables for her evening soup that she will serve to him while berating him for being an idiot with delusions of grandeur when he comes back after another useless search.
Except one day he walks in and shes laying on her chair completely still. Her hat is on the floor and her pose is absolutely graceless. Shes cold. Unmoving.
Shes dead.
And he looks at her and doesnt even check, theres a layer of dust on her gloves and everything else, and the water in the cup that shattered on the floor is completely dried up, and there's a pungent smell of sorts that he didn't realize drenches the whole tent. Shes dead. Shes been dead for a bit of time now.
And volo stands and looks at her dead; he buries her with no thoughts, and then he sits at the same chair she sat in when she died, at the same table she sat before when she died, and he realizes, hes alone; and he realizes, dear God, i will die too eventually.
And he goes insane.
But its not his kind of boisterous and excessive deranged sort of show, where he makes himself a little outfit and a stupid haircut and screams at the heavens and siks a giant ghost worm from hell on a teenager, its a perfectly quiet madness that makes him feel incomprehensibly small and meaningless and powerless against everything: against nature, against others, against himself. Hes alone and he realizes cogita will not chastise him, and it feels good; he realizes he doesnt know how she makes her soup, or her tea, how she keeps her calligraphy so neat, how she dealt with not having an heir for ages, how she dealt with having such an incomprehensible heir, how she handles enamorus (who doesnt even show up to volo when spring comes, and simply never comes back) or what she thought of her own myths; and he feels like shes resting her hands on his shoulders with a weight that will crush him, and he realizes, dear God, i will die too eventually, and nobody will even know i existed.
Maybe he just needs to find God. Maybe he just needs to find Arceus. Work harder on it. So he can ask it everything. So he can figure out how to never die, or how to exist forever.
And when he finally does it (because the times change and life has many doors, johnny boy) and he finally stands out of time and space and reality and he has Arceus right before him and so many questions, his mind wanders to ask about where enamorus is now, and it brings him to the image of cogita cold and graceless and unmoving, just dead, and replaces her body with his, and he spends the precious time he could use to question god in perfect silence, drawing the biggest blank of his life.
And then before he knows it its over and he has no second chance.
And he realizes, dear god.
I am going to die alone.
And decades later his only granddaughter forgets to visit him one day, and shows up the next with a book of myths under her arm as an apology, and she finds him slumped over his chair cold and still and graceless, with a broken cup of water drying up still on the floor.
And Cynthia looks at him and thinks, very slowly: dear god.
I will die too eventually.
#pokémon#pokemon legends arceus#pokemon volo#pokemon cogita#pokemon cynthia#death tw#random talks#random writing#i think he should have a very quiet crisis like the opposite of mazzarò in giovanni verga's short story la roba#mazzarò realizes his constant desire for riches and land and goods meant nothing as hes slowly dying#and his reaction is to try and take everything with him in death. killing his chickens and turkeys and yelling 'come with me my stuff!'#he realizes he has nothing else other than his stuff. no loved ones no good memories#his only thoughts towards his own mother were that it had been a pain to pay for her fueral#volo realizes it young. when he cant remember cogita past her comments and poems. past her knowledge. like she wasnt a person but a book#and he tries to throw himself into his search but it feels empty under the desperation#and when he gets what he wants it feels like nothing. it should have been everything but it isnt. and he wasted himself for it.#cynthia looks at his dead body and realizes he wont tell her stories anymore and she feels the dread of his words#telling her not to let the past and the searching eat her alive#and she missed his true last words because she was inspecting ruins.#maybe if she had been there she could have called an ambulance#and she thinks to herself: dear god. i will die too eventually.#and so she throws herself in the arms of human connection#makes friends makes colleagues encourages children keeps conferences breaks her familys hiding from the world because dear god#she doesnt want to die alone#anyways how are you doing
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Act
YandereDirector!Miguel O'Hara x Actress!Reader
//Dead dove do not eat,Lying in public, Kidnapping, Fake Death, Mild stockholm syndrome, Lyla being a wingwoman, Heavy Abuse, half drowing, Heavy animal abuse, Animal death, implied sexual abuse.
A/N: 2nd winner of the poll, Have this for awhile while I get busy with school and might not upload TFTD soon
---
"She was the kindest person I worked with, she knew what to do and how to do it professionally. We might not have that much time together, but for whatever it's worth, she was truly a unique person..."
Miguel paused for a while, holding back a sob from his throat.
"I wished for Y/N's family and friends my condolences and not to forget my gratitude for bringing up a person like her in this world."
With that, Miguel left the podium with a solemn expression, cameras flashing from left to right. Nosy interviewers pushing up microphones his way, trying to one up each other, hoping their questions will be answered.
That day was grey, gloomy, and depressing. News have found that you have gone missing the past few months and after multiple searches from the government, you were now declared dead.
Some people believe, some don't. Mostly, conspiracies would say that you were still alive, crawling on the ground out of a hole where you were said to be buried alive by some jealous actor. Some would say you got abducted or kidnapped by some crazed fan.
It's still a mystery if either you're dead or alive, disappearing just after your premiere show.
But that's what public only knows.
Miguel enters the backseat of his car on the way to his private mansion in some woods. He let's out a small chuckle.
"Great work out there, big boss"
A woman who seemed to be younger than Miguel sits at the driver's seat, she started the car and drives away, away from cameras, away from people and away from suspecting ears.
"I wIsHed HeR faMiLy mY ConDolOncEs" Lyla mocked as she stopped in the middle of traffic.
"Just drive, Lyla," Miguel huffed, but nonetheless, still happy, he finally got out of that stuffy crowd.
"Whatever you say boss."
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
A few minutes passed by, and they finally arrived in a land barricaded by gates and high security cameras and sensors.
The high tall gates opened up to let the car in.
"Were there any distubance with Y/N?" Miguel asks as he leaves the car and goes straight to this house with Lyla closely behind.
"Aside from going to the bathroom and playing with the cat, nothing else seems out of the ordinary."
"...Really?"
"No kicking doors, no attempt to break windows and nothing else. She seems to be adjusting well."
Miguel went silent for a while as they passed by the garden and fountaine, where you and him would (forcefully) walk side by side, that is, until you tried running away.
"That's... Good to hear. Thanks, Lyla."
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
"How's your day, dear?" Miguel approaced your form, sitting on the bed, petting your beloved cat and looking out the window.
"Alright......How's... Your speech? Lyla told me you had one"
He almost forgot Lyla would tell you things he currently does, but he's thankful she doesn't go to detail.
"It was nothing special. But other than that, I got you a little something."
He held a in a sigh as you merely looked at the bag by his hand.
He took the bag and landed it on the bed beside your form and looked at you patiently.
You hesitated a bit, He can understand why.
He spoiled you lots and lots thanks to his rising director career, but his gifts can vary a lot. To dresses, to jewellery, up to sex toys, and lingerine.
You remember one time you got gifted a lingerine version of your fictional character suit, and you refused to wear it. Next thing you know, you were forced to be naked for three days. Your usual thick blanket got changed into a much thinner one, rendering it almost useless to the cold temperature Miguel set your room in.
You decided to accept his gifts no matter what they are.
You placed the cat next to you while cautiously grabbing the bag as if it could explode any second.
The moment you opened the bag, you let out a breath of relief.
Inside was a box of necklace, with it, come matching earrings.
"Thought it matched your eyes, mi amor."
"...Yo-you shouldn't have."
"You're right. I shouldn't, but I wanted too, anyway.Why don't you try it on?"
Without waiting your answer, he took the box from you and lifted your hair a bit to place the necklace around you. You held back a shiver when the cold material touched your skin.
When you felt the necklace lock, Miguel took a mirror from the vanity and placed it in front of you, making you see yourself.
"Aren't you stunning?" Miguel smiled as he watched the necklace glimmer.
"Y-yes."
"Now, what do we say?"
"Th-thank you."
Miguel smiled wider.
"Very good, you're learning more and more." He kissed your cheek while you fought back the urge to flinch away.
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
Three months ago
"....And cut! You there! One more mistake im cutting you out of this role." Miguel shouted as people flinched from the volume of his voice and the actor mentioned huffed in annoyance.
"Yeah, whatever" He mumbled.
Miguel sighed, a headache soon to rise.
"Call a break, be back at twenty."
With that, everyone left to go to their own places to take a breather and relax for a bit. You did the same while double-checking your script.
You didn't know how many hours it has been, but the repetitive number of mistakes that your co-actor has been doing has really done an effect on you. You understand that actors alike make mistakes, but he keeps forgetting lines, forgetting actions, and sometimes won't listen to cues and signals.
When being called to audition this role, your heart soar with happiness and excitement. Working under Miguel O'Hara is no joke after all. He was strict yet creative with his movies. The number of awards and recognition he earned shows that.
The movie your acting is an action genre, which you had a bit of difficulty at first, especially with fighting choreography, but you're glad that the team was patient all together
Patience doesn't really last that long thought. You just hope that one co actor would get his bearings right since the movie is almost done and editing and finalizing will be left.
You didn't realize twenty minutes were done until one of the staff started calling everyone back.
Finally, your co actor has gotten it right, and the rest of the production went smooth.
Before you know it, the movie is released,watched, and you were invited to an awarding event.
Everyone was having the time of their life. You were sitting at your designated table along side with Miguel with his assistant.
Lyla is the best person you have ever met, funny with a brush of sarcasm. Although as bit pushy with personal questions and it's still nice to talk to someone light.
While you enjoy your glass of champagne, you watch as the speaker on stage makes their speech for the winning actress of the year award.
"...And for this year award, we would like to dedicate this to none other than Y/N L/N!"
Your eyes widen as cheers and applause erupted from the crowd.
You stood up adjusting your dress a bit and shaking the hand of Miguel as you pass by.
You got up the stage and retrieved your award, made your thank you speech, and bowed.
You guess that after all those cracked backs and sleepless nights of acting, It was all worth it in the end.
----
It was finally time to relax.
People who have worked in the movie have been invited to Miguel's mansion for a nice and soft after-awards celebration and you were invited.
Miguel has won yet again another award for directing another hit.
The invitation was relayed to you by Lyla, and you have been told it would still be held around eleven pm-ish so people would have time to change into a more comfortable clothing and such.
You thanked Lyla for the message and decided to head home to change out of your dress.
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
"Hey, pal!" Lyla greeted you as she opened the door to the mansion.
"Hey Lyla! Sorry if I got a bit late."
"No worries! Your the first one to arrive."
Lyla stepped aside so you could step in. You thanked her as you entered.
You have never been inside Miguel's domain, and to say your shock was an understatement.
His style is more contemporary with a touch of art deco for a bit of colour.
You were mesmerised with the sparkling chandelier, a huge flat tv screen by the wall, and a fireplace under it.
The walls had linings of gold and white, and some renaissance paintings were plastered here and there to give the space more life.
"Impressed? I swear it could use some plants, but Miguel's too edgy for that." Lyla chimed in behind you, and you held in a chuckle since she isn't wrong.
"Why don't you sit by the fireplace while I fetch Miguel?" she suggests as she leads you further into the living room and sits down, relishing the warm heat of the fire.
Lyla smiles at your relaxed state and headed upstairs where you guess Miguel was.
While you wait, you stare by the fire, and you're surprised you got here first. It's not like you're a tardy person, but by now, you expected at least three or four people here already. Then your thoughts drive to Miguel.
Stunning and successfull is all you could say.
You worked under different directors, yet he stood out for some reason. Maybe the way he leads the group with an iron fist or just the way he acts around you.
Your thoughts were cut off by a voice behind you.
"Y/N, nice to see you accepted my invitation. Sorry if I wasn't there to greet you." Miguel greeted as he approaches you, Lyla no where to be seen.
"Mr. O'Hara, Thank you for inviting me." You stood up from your place and gave him a handshake.
"Please, call me Miguel. We're relaxing as of now, why not enjoy it." Miguel shook your hand back, you held back a wince from his grip.
"Why don't we get started with the champagne, while we wait for the others hm?" Miguel suggests and you accepted.
----
"... And then, I slammed my headphones on the floor, and it broke."
You and Miguel laughed at his statement.
Both of you were drunk without a care in the world. The other guests never came but none of you could care.
Especially you.
You hiccuped a laugh as you try stabilizing yourself on the couch. Your body feels warm due to the champagne and the fireplace. Two bottles of empty champagne are placed on the coffee table in front of you.
You swear you wouldn't drink much, especially in front of your director, not wanting to look unprofessional, but it seems like both of you got lost in stories and laughter.
"Bet *hic* Lyla talked your ass off for it."
"Oh, you bet." He chuckled, remembering Lyla scolding him as if he was a child who broke a vase.
You laughed again. At this point, you don't know what for. Your head feels light and dizzy, and your vision is wobbly.
Miguel seemed to notice your state and tried to hide his smile. For some, you notice he barely looked drunk, kinda put shames into your "high-tolerance." But your mind wanders, and the more you do, the more you felt like to a deep need to sleep.
"It looks like you enjoyed the champangne too much." Miguel mused, small smile grew on his face.
Some hint of clarity went into you.
"O-oh, my apologies, I-um probably drank your stock." You apologized as he chuckles.
"Nonsense bebita, got more than you could count." He stares into your dazed state and continues. "You know what? I'll call Lyla, you seemed to need help after all those glasses hm?"
"O-oh *hic* Dun't wanna tr-trouble you, sir. I'll uh go *hic* go home. " you said as you put down your half empty glass on the coffee table and held onto the couch, stood up albiet wobbly.
Miguel stood up quickly, but you were to drunk to notice anything.
Next thing you know, you collapsed. The floor or his arms? You don't know.
-----
".... And make sure the windows are locked."
"Aye aye cap'n"
Your head hurts, your body feels heavy, and your eyes sting from the light from the windows.
The only things you do is realized a comfy and weighted blanket is placed on you and your on a bed you don't recognize.
Your ears could only hear the muffled voices of a man and woman behind the door.
Your eyes roam where it could, and you notice you're in a fancy looking bedroom on a bed that's too big for one person. The windows have curtains on them, but they were opened, making you hiss from the light.
Your head is still dizzy, and you feel like you want to go back to sleep.
But your situation still needs focusing on.
Did you collapse from all that champagne?
Geez, did you sleep in the house of O'hara? god, you hope he isn't mad for needing to take care of your state.
Some sense are finally going back to you, and you decided to sit up with a groan, making the blanket slid of you.
You froze.
This isn't what you were wearing last night.
I mean, who wears a long, spaghetti strap, lacy white night gown to have a drink with your boss?
You panic. Were you still at Miguel's house?
Your questions were answered when the door opened.
There stood Miguel, his eyes automatically landing on you.
"Good. You're awake."
"S-sir?"
"Still calling me that? I thought I told you to call me Miguel?"
You ignored his words as you sat at the edge of the bed.
"I-uh...I...I don't know what happened sir but I apologize for intruding, Im-" You tried speaking, but your words are slurred, your body and mind still processing itself.
"Intruding? Nonsense." Miguel interuppts you, his eyes roam around the long night gown on you. "Seems like I made the right choice for your night gown." He said as he sits beside you on the bed.
You paused.
Was he the one who put this on you?
Signals blare around your head and you try to sit up.
"Si-sir... If I may, I really need to go." Your body finally listens to you as you stand up and try to head towards the door.
You flinched hard when you felt a strong grip on your wrist, stopping you on your tracks.
"What did I just say about calling me Miguel?" His eyes focused on you and you shivered. You really need to go away.
"Si-Miguel... Please, I really need to go."
You pleaded, but your words were ignored, and all Miguel did was pull you closer to him and further from the door.
Your body is now shooting signals left and right your dizziness long forgotten. You tried wriggling your hands out of his grip with all you could muster, Miguel didn't budge a bit and just pulled you into closer to him.
"Don't make this harder." With that he pulled you closer to him one more time before lifting you up and throwing you harshly on the bed.
Air was knocked out of your lungs no matter how soft the matress could be. Fear is going higher and higher in your body, and you're not hearing signals anymore. An entire warning siren rings in your head to get out of here as fast as you could.
What happened last night?
Did you offend him?
Why did he changed your clothes?
Where's your phone?
You didn't have much to think about when the next thing you know was lips roughly pushing agaist your own.
"Mmh!-"
First you got abducted now your forced to kiss your captor.
Your hands automatically tried to push him away by pushing against his chest, but it was futile. His own hands took your wrists away from his chest and pinned down on each side of your head.
He finally let go, and both of you panted from loss of breath.
"Let me g-!"
Your words once again stopped when he kissed you again. This time, it is less rough yet still demanding control.
"I said don't make this harder."
He said as one of his hands gathered both your wrists to be pinned above your head while the other one slid underneath your nightgown to bunch it up to your hips.
"No no nonono please...Miguel I beg you plea-"
"As much as I love you, I'd appreciate it if you shut up for once."
Your words choked up in your throat, following his orders unwillingly. You didn't even realize tears started streaming down your face, soaking the sheets underneath.
Miguel didn't seem to care.
Instead he smiled.
"Good. Atleast you know how to listen."
You tried gulping, but doing so made you choked up even more.
"Shh shh, just calm down."
Yeah...As if that's easy.
His other hand started tracing the lacy patters of your underwear, which you dreadfully realized that was changed too.
You tried wriggling your hips away from him, but that didn't deter him from ripping your underwear off of you.
You painfully yelp from force.
"Shh... Just relax and enjoy the ride hermosa."
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
One Month Later.
Life is getting bad and worse the more you spend your time here.
First, you learned Miguel has been planning this for so long since you got recruited to star in his movie. You don't know what that plan contains, but it must have been a really good one since no one is not even the government could find you.
Second, always as permission and opinions from either Lyla or Miguel. One time the both of them went out to attend a meeting. While they were gone, you decided to take a bath by yourself to get rid of the dirty proof you had with Miguel last night. Time must have passed while you were enjoying your alone time since Miguel burst into the bathroom with a deep scowl on his face.
Next thing you know, you were forced under the water of your bath. Water is going in your nose, and bubbles stinging your eyes. Miguel is ranting something, but you don't hear anything due to your fainting consciousness, but Miguel pulled you up before you could even faint and after a few seconds he dunked you again.
Another time was picking clothes. It was finally nighttime, and you wanted something thicker to wear. You saw a cardigan and decided to wear that while you have your usual long, silk night gown underneath.
Miguel came out of the bathroom and paused when he saw what your wearing.
"Dear... What's that? hm?"
You flinched when you heard his voice.
"O-oh umm... Just a cardigan, wanted to be a bit warmer to-today."
He stayed silent for a while until he slowly started approaching you.
You flinched again, Miguel can be unpredictable. Is he gonna shout?.
You don't have time to think when his hands suddenly grab your arm and pulled you into the balcony of your shared room.
"Migue-"
"Warm, huh? Let's see how warm you can be out here without me."
His voice is calm...Eerily calm. But you know better.
He roughly opened the windowed door to the balcony and roughly pushed you into it.
Before you could even think, you heard the door shut behind you and you froze.
Did... Did he just locked you out of here?
"Miguel! Miguel please! Im sorry!!"
You shouted as you banged against the balcony door. You couldn't see anything since Miguel seemed to slide the curtains shut.
After a few minutes, which felt like an hour to you already, you gave up on getting Miguel's attention.
You even thought of jumping off the balcony, but within that height, you're sure you would only end up trying to get up and run on broken bones. You're sure as hell you wouldn't even go that far.
You didn't know when you slept, but your eyes opened to the sun that's just started to rise and Miguel carrying you bridal style back to the bedroom.
You temperature down to yourself and your complexion lighter than usual, your lips and throat dry, your body feels numb, and your temperature surely isn't normal.
You couldn't speak, but Miguel didn't mind and kissed your forehead as he layed you down on the bed.
The warmth of Miguel's body and everything else sent shivers onto you.
Althought your body is reduced to nothing but a shivering piece of meat.
The next time you woke up again, you found every sweater and cardigan disappeared in your closet. With Lyla mocking your choice of clothing is boring anyway.
Finally, third.
Shut up and give what he has to give.
You swear your heart broke everytime you go back to that memory.
Miguel was quote on quote, "feeling generous" that day.
He had his schedule packed and he felt bad for leaving you, sometimes Lyla would accompany you but being his assistant she needs to attend her duties as one.
So he brought you a cat.
You don't remember what you named it but you surely remember you loved it.
Something to call your own.
Something that makes you happy.
You doted on it, fed it, pet it and played with it. It's purrs and meows help you forget the situation your in.
But Miguel is there to remind you.
Miguel noticed your attention is driven away from him to the cat.
That damn cat.
One time, he locked it in a separate room, so he could have his moment with you.
But you would turn away from him, always wondering where the cat is, and if he doesn't answer to your liking you wouldn't let him touch you, Although it doesn't always work, he's getting tired of your attitude.
Next thing you know, he made you sit down all tied up and watch as he beat the helpless cat into a pulp.
You cried as she roughly kicked it to the wall, again and again. You begged him to stop as you listened to the weak call for help of the cat started to dwindle into nothing.
Its eyes were swollen and body bloody and bruised.
Your eyes drifted to Lyla standing by the doorway, and you silently pleaded for her help but it was useless when all she did was sip some soda and watched the beating as if it's a natural occurence.
Your cried even harder when the cat stopped meowing and all you could see was a unmoving lifeless body of the cat you once cherished.
"Next time I see you acting that all lovey dovey to something useless, I'm beating you up next."
With that he untied you from the chair and you quickly scrambled to the floor to gently cradle the dead animal.
Miguel left you to your self.
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
Two Months later
You don't know how you're still alive.
Your surprised your internal organs are still working.
Your heart beating.
Your lungs breathing.
Your brain thinking.
Thinking.
Thinking when can you get out.
Miguel practically live in the middle of nowhere, just like those mega-rich people who live in the vast grasslands surrounded by trees and sometimes mountains.
Can you actually get our from here?
Windows?
No.
Hidden cameras surround you more than the paparazzi ever did. They were sometimes annoying, but now you're starting to miss their flashing cameras instead of eerie blinking red dots hidden in drawers or mirrors.
Poisoning him?
No.
Lyla double checks everytime from the ingredients you use to the way you cook them.
Killing yourself?
Not even you have control over your own life anymore.
Miguel practically baby proofed the house for you.
So how...
Maybe never.
All you could do was stare out the window, thinking nothing.
Some drool would slip out of your lips but you didn't care.
You watch the same scenery from the window for the 1000th time. The unchanging grasshills, the migrating birds you would sometimes see and the setting sun and rising moon.
Miguel seemed to deem you unstable. You would cry randomly. You stopped turning away his affection but at what cost?
Maybe he would prefer that instead of you looking out in the middle of no where, thinking nothing.
Your crying outbursts would randomly start, at the shower, in the bed, in the kitchen. You name it.
So maybe going out of the house would help you.
You wordlessly took his hand as he lead you out of the house, watching your reaction or body language the whole time.
It seems he was right. Going outside does help.
Your eyes seem to brighten a fraction.
He didn't even realise he let out a sigh of relief when he watched your eyes look around the massive garden as if it's your first time seeing the color green.
You both roamed around, stopping once or thrice to admire a budding flower or a fluttering butterfly.
Miguel didn't really care for the garden since he didn't have time to roam around and admire what he had already seen for a thousand times already. So maybe it was a bit neglected, bushes are overgrowing and vines seems to spread out more.
He decided that once this little trip is over, he needs to hire a gardener to tend it a bit.
Aside from the view, his enjoying you.
Although he isn't sure which part.
The way your eyes light up more and more as you explored the garden and admiring the fountain.
Or.
The way you didn't let go of his hand the entire time. Maybe he did teach you well after all.
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
Three months later
It seems like he saved your mental health from declining if he just lets you go out of the house once in a while.
You even learned how to respond to him.
You learned how to touch him.
To hold him.
To love him...
It was all he could ask for.
It took some time for the police to get off his back for the suspicion he has for kidnapping you (which isn't far from the truth)
He even had to make you hide in a secret room in his stupidly big mansion. You didn't know why you had to hide.
But atleast that got the police searching his house finally leave him be after several meetings and interoggations of him.
He finally can live in peace.
You became so good for him he decided to get you another cat.
This time you knew better and he loved you for it.
□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■
Months gone by, possibly years, but atleast your finally content-ish with your life.
Not happy but tolerable.
You stopped pushing away and just give into his so-called "love"
Although Miguel might not always be happy with your lack of emotions nowadays , at least he has you by his side then his contented.
Miguel, on the other hand, feels joyous, true he doesn't find your lacklustre attitude too nice, but it's also true he has you with him.
With politicians, accusations and the damn police out of his back, he can finally go back to loving you.
And he can finally drop the act.
●●●●●
A/N: Hope u enjoyed, with this, I will go on a hiatus for while, I am unsure when I can be back since life has been pretty busy. I will also postpone my lastedt series so am sorry for that.
I am still thankful for your endless support.
Have a nice day everyone, ty for understanding
#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel x you#spiderman 2099#tw yandere#tw yancore#tw threats#tw murder#tw animal death#tw harassment#tw animal cruelty#tw animal abuse#tw torture#tw abuse#lyla spiderverse#astv miguel#across the spiderverse#atsv lyla#lyla spiderman 2099#tw kidnapping#fake death#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat
190 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heyyy!!! I absolutely loved your latest work “Taking it All In” I haven’t stopped crying since I read it. I was wondering if you could write something about the depression that the reader has in the story. Something along the lines where reader has been skipping school for some time due to depression and she hasn’t told Pedro about it. He finds out cuz eventually the school calls him and tells him whats going on with your absences and your bad grades. You two get into a fight about it because you refuse to tell him what’s going on as to not worry your dad. After days of not talking, cold shoulders and staying in your room/bed as much as possible Pedro finally cracks and tries to talk to you again. You’re in laying on your bed not wanting to move while Pedro is talking to you and he notices small cuts on your arm that your trying to hide, way to linear to be from your cat, and he finally puts the pieces together.
Taking It All In Pt. II (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)
Pt. 1
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings: Descriptions of Self-harm, mentions of depression, suicide, and some slight hinting of eating disorders.
A/N: Thank you! You're so sweet! I hope you like this part two of Taking it All in!! Also, thank you for the details in your requests! It helps to plan what to write!
It’s been months after that hike with your father. You had gotten help, but it only helped so much. You had this fear that if you told your therapist your actual thoughts, you’d end up somewhere where grippy socks were mandatory.
It didn’t help that you found your mother, you hadn’t told your father, but you searched and searched the internet until you found her. The woman who was so afraid of loving you, afraid of having a life with your dad, she was alive and well.
She was happy too. You would think it would make you feel happy to hear that she was happy, to see the photos of her and her family, her two kids and husband. But all it did was take you to a dark place. The images of her at her sons' soccer game, or her at her daughters' recital. It should be you in those photos with her.
This whole time you thought your mother was most likely dead or if she were alive, she was alone in some other country probably traveling. You didn’t ever imagine that she could have started another life. You hadn’t brought it up to your therapist, mostly because they’ve been trying to help you cope with other issues in your life. It was mostly how you felt about constantly having to travel from place to place or not having your father around as much, it meant a lot of journaling. Plus, if you told your therapist, it meant telling your father and you didn’t know how he’d react or if he already knew.
What if he already knew. You hadn’t thought of that, it was another scenario that could happen, another scenario you don’t know if you can handle.
You heard the front door open and then close, “I’m home!” You heard your dad call out.
You sighed to yourself, you had ditched another day of school, but luckily for you your dad left for meetings before you even got up. Meaning that it was easy to ditch. In fact, you hadn’t gone to school at all the past week.
Pedro was met with silence, he shrugged, “probably studying,” he muttered to himself. He made his way over to the kitchen to get dinner started. He wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he knew a thing or two.
You made your way down the hall, “There she is!” Pedro said as he heard your footsteps get closer, “Hey, I was thinking, how does spaghetti sound tonight?” You walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of apple juice.
“Sure,” you said with a shrug. You poured yourself a cup of apple juice, putting away the bottle right after.
“Long day at school?” You gave him a nod. “Alright, well, go ahead and rest. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.” You felt horrible for lying to him. He had thought everything was getting better and that you were beginning to feel happier, but it was all just a lie. It was a mask.
** mentions of self-harm begin here **
You walked back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. The lying, the feeling of abandonment, everything, it just felt like it was all tumbling down. You pulled up your sleeves, revealing the linear cuts that you had done to yourself. It started off with something small, hitting your hands against something when you were mad, but the pain felt kind of nice.
Not kind of, it did feel nice. It took away the pain of everything in your mind for a moment and you liked it. You liked your mind being peaceful for just a moment. But those moments only lasted a few seconds and you needed something that would last longer. You had saw some girls with some cuts on their wrists at school, it wasn’t till one day you aksed one of the girls what they were while you both were in the bathroom. The girl seemed a bit embarrassed but you were genuinely curious. She explained what they were, but she didn’t explain it further.
For weeks you couldn’t help but think about it, but the thought of hurting yourself in that way seemed scary. What if you went too deep or if you got caught? But a week ago, when your dad had to work late, you felt yourself drowning in your thoughts. Hitting yourself against your bedframe wasn’t working. That was the night you first self-harmed, you felt lucky that the weather was getting cold again so hiding your scars was easy.
Your dad played some music while he began to boil the pasta. Your cat watched from the other side of the counter, he knew his boundaries and Pedro seemed to like the company. Pedro began to slowly dance to the rhythm of the song playing until it was cut off by the sound of ringtone, “That’s not part of the song,” he grumbled as he grabbed his phone.
The number looked familiar, he hesitated on answering, “Could be important or a scam,” he muttered. He shrugged to himself before answering the phone, “hello?”
“Hi! This is Linda from the JFK High School, may I speak to Y/N Pascal’s father?”
“This is he speaking,” Pedro responded. He had no clue why your school would be calling.
“Hi, Mr. Pascal! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past few days, it wasn’t until we looked through our files that we realized we had an old phone number.”
“Ah, yes, I changed my number. Probably should’ve updated you guys on that,” is that it? He thought.
“It’s quite alright, but the real reason why we’ve been trying to get ahold you is because we’ve noticed that Y/N hasn’t been attending her classes for the past week.”
Pedro stopped what he was doing, placing the wooden spoon he had in his hand down on the counter, “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken.”
“I’m afraid not. Her teachers are beginning to worry now that her grades have been slipping and she hasn’t been showing up. We were wondering if maybe the family went on vacation and someone forgot to notify the school?”
“N-No, we’re not on vacation,” Pedro looked towards the hall.
“Well, is there any reason why she hasn’t been in school?”
“I-I don’t know, I thought she had been going to clases this whole time.”
“Will she be there on Monday?”
“She’ll be there Monday,” he stated.
“It is my obligation to let you know that if the student doesn’t show up for school for another full week that the school will revoke certain privileges for Y/N.” Pedro knew the consequences of you missing school, it could also mean jail time on his case.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this. Thank you, Linda.”
“Of course,” Linda said before hanging up.
Pedro placed his phone back on the counter, he then shut off the burners on the stove. “What do I do, gatito?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t know what to say or ask even. He let out a deep sigh before making his way down the hall.
He knocked on your door, “Mija, puedo entrar?” (Can I enter?)
You opened the door, “dinner is ready already?” you asked with a confused expression on your face.
Pedro felt his heart break, there you stood, his little girl, in front of him. He never expect you to miss school and not tell him, it only meant one thing. You were lying to him about everything. “No,” he said softly. He was trying so hard to remain calm, but there was a part of him that wanted to yell and ask why the hell you werent going to schoo. Then there was that nurturing side of him that just wanted to ask you why you weren’t going to school. Both had the same question, just a different way of approaching it. “Can I come in?”
You shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. You watched as he sat on the edge of your bed, “I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent truthful with me, okay?” He asked
You chuckled slightly, expecting some dumb question, “okay.”
“Mija, no estoy bromeando horita, necesito que me escuches.” (I’m not joking right now, I need you to listen).
Oh fuck, he knows, you thought. You gave him a nod, “did you miss school this past week?” You nod again. Pedro took in a deep breath, “Why?”
You shrugged, “papi, it’s no big deal.”
“No big deal!?” He yelled as he stood up. “Mija, do you know I can go to jail because you haven’t gone to school!? Do you have any idea how stupid that is? Que te estabas pensando, huh!?” (What were you thinking?)
You felt tears well up in your eyes, “I’m sorry! I just didn’t feel like going!”
“If you don’t feel like going then you tell me! How come you didn’t tell me?” You remained silent, Pedro let out a deep sigh, trying to calm down again. “What’s going on, Y/N??”
“Nothing,” you whispered.
“No me dices que nada esta pasando, por que tu no te comportas como asi. Tu eres mi hija, y yo queiro saber que esta pasando.” (Don’t tell me that nothing is happening because you don’t behave like this, You’re my daughter and I want to know what is going on.)
“Nada esta pasando!” You yelled, “Deja me en paz!” You walked out of your room. (Nothing is happening, leave me alone)
“Dejarte en paz?!” He followed you out. “What is going on with you?!”
“Would you just leave it alone? I didn’t go to school this week and I’m sorry, okay? I’ll go to school on monday, just leave it alone!”
“I’m not just gonna brush this off, this is serious, Y/N! Missing school for a week? You can’t just do that! So, what is going on?”
“Ugh! I don’t have to tell you every fucking thing okay?!” You yelled. You believe that this was probably the first time you ever yelled at your dad. The first time you had ever gotten in such a big argument. Didn’t mean that you two didn’t argue, you argued but it never led to a screaming match. Not like this.
Pedro stood there in disbelief, “Y/N M/N Pascal, I am your father and I demand to know what the hell is going on with you.”
You couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t just blurt out that you found your mother; but not only did you find her, you also found her new family. You couldn’t tell him that you felt replaceable, that even he was replaceable, at least to your mother. You just couldn’t. “Nothing is going on,” you said.
“You’re grounded,” he said in defeat.
“Fine,” you said as you began to make your way back to your room.
“For two months,” he added. “I’ll need your phone and your game consoles.”
You stopped in the middle of the hall. You were doing this for him, you wanted to keep his happiness even at the cost of your own, “Fine.” You walked into your room, slamming the door behind you.
“Slam the door and I’m taking your T.V.”
You groaned in annoyance, “Fuck you,” you spat. You had instantly regretted saying it. Pedro stood there for a second, in shock mostly. He felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes, he wasn’t going to take your T.V. as a matter of fact, he didn’t want to take any of it away. He partially said it in hopes that you’d crack and tell him what was going on.
He heard the cat meow at his feet, he looked down, “I think I’m loosing her, gatito,” he whispered before turning around and making his way down the hall and back to the kitchen.
~~
Days went by, you didn’t speak to your dad all weekend. Spending most of your time in your bedroom, your mind was all over the place and you had self harmed some more. It felt like the more you did, the more you craved it or the more your mind raced, the more you felt the need to have that feeling.
You didn’t eat much either, for some reason you just couldn’t think about eating. Your stomach didn’t feel hungry either so you snacked on small things. When you came home from school on Monday, your dad was in the kitchen prepping for dinner. You walked past him, not saying a word. The tension was thick, someone could cut a knife through it.
Pedro didn’t say anything to you when you walked past him to grab something to drink, even though he wanted to say a million things. He had so much to talk to you about, so many exciting things, but he was stubborn and you were too.
When you didn’t come out for dinner, he left a plate at the foot of your door, knocking to let you know, just like he did for past two days and just like you did, you’d wait a few minutes before grabbing your plate. You would leave it on your desk, hoping that maybe you’d feel some sensation of hunger. Yet, just like the other full plates of food beside it, you’d never touch it.
“Just give her some time,” Javiera said into the phone. Pedro had called her Monday afternoon while he was out for a drive.
“How much time?” he asked, his voice strained from crying. He had called her up crying about twenty minutes ago, and like the big sister she was, she tried her best to console him through the phone.
“A few more days, she’ll crack soon enough,” she said hopeful. “You’re a good dad, Pedro.”
“I sure as hell don’t feel like it right now.”
“I know,” she began, “all parents feel that way one day or another.”
“I just… I wish I knew what happened you know? Why did she all of a sudden just become this totally different person?”
“Teenagers,” she expressed. “Don’t you remember how you were?”
“Don’t get me started,” he chuckled.
“You were the worst!” Pedro knew she was right. He had given his parents a hard time when he was a teenager. “It’ll get better, I promise.”
Tuesday comes and goes and so does Wednesday. By Wednesday night you ate some of your dinner, but you still couldn’t stomach to eat all of it. You only ate because of how dizzy you felt all day. Thursday comes and goes, you caved into your cravings more as each day passed, your arm was full of scars, it felt raw to the touch.
You cried yourself to sleep most nights. Friday night Pedro went to knock on your door, only to hear you crying. He knocked softly, but was only met with “Go away.” He felt so defeated, he wanted this silent treatment to be over with. He wanted his baby girl back and he wanted to help you with whatever you were going through. He knocked again, “Go away!” He shook his head, opening the door, you were laying in bed, your arms covering your face.
“Mija,” he said softly.
“Please, just go away!” you yelled.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it anymore,” he began to say, he noticed the uneaten food on your desk. His heart sunk, looking back over at you, taking in how you looked. He walked over to the desk, some of the food began to develop mold. He let out a shaky breath, walking over to the bed, “Baby girl,” he said. Pedro noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual long sleeve, for a while he was beginning to worry that you had begun to harm yourself because you were always wearing long sleeves.
It relieved him to see you in a short sleeve for once, he inched closer, you still hard your arms covering your face. You were too focused on what was on your mind to realize that your father was near you and that you weren’t wearing a long sleeve. Even if you had realized it, it would be too late.
Pedro spotted something red near your wrists, but your arms were in a position where he couldn’t see your whole wrists. Yet, the small amount he did see was enough to send him in a panic. Pedro was soft with his touch, he grabbed your hand gently, pulling it towards him so he could see your wrists.
You quickly pulled away your arm, holding it close to your chest as you sat up in the bed, “get out,” you said through clenched teeth.
“How long have you been doing that?” Your dad asks, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Get out!” you yelled.
“How long!?” tears fell from his eyes, he stood up from the bed. “How long, Y/N?” he asked again.
“Dad, I don’t want you to cry,” You said as you looked at the ground, “Just please get out.”
“No! I’m not gonna-” he inhaled, “you’re not shutting me out.”
“Please,” you begged as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You got up from the bed, walking over to the door and opening it. “Get out,” you begged.
He shook his head, “Why?” he cried, “Why would you do that to yourself?” You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, “And don’t say it’s the cat, because that’s too many for the cat. It’s too clean. I thought you were getting better.”
You looked at your dad, you could see the pain you were trying avoid. The heartache you hated to see, “I’m not better,” you confessed. “I’ve never gotten better.”
“What?” He asked in disbelief.
“I didn’t get better, okay?” You said loudly, holding back the sob that was scratching at the walls of your throat, begging to be let out. “Is that what you want to hear?”
“You think I want to hear that my baby girl never got better?” You remained silent. He walked over to you, taking your had to look at the marks again. He sniffled, “My beautiful baby girl,” he sobbed, “why would you do this?”
You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a deep shaky breath, letting the sob take over you. “I couldn’t handle it anymore, it’s all too much, okay? It’s so loud in here,” you gestured towards your head.
Pedro couldn’t handle seeing you cry, he pulled you in, feeling you tightly wrap your arms around his body. “Why?” he kept asking.
“I was trying to protect you,” your dad let go of the embrace.
He placed his hands on your face, “Mija, I should be the one protecting you, Okay? Whatever it is that you’ve been holding in, I can handle it. You never have to worry about me.”
You wanted to spill everything, it was like the dam inside was breaking and this was just the little drop of water to break it. “I found her,” you confessed.
He looked at you with a confused expression, “who?”
“My mom,” you inhaled, “I found her,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. Pedro was in disbelief, she was alive, for the longest he just kind of accepted that she passed away.
“That’s what you were trying to protect me from?” He questioned.
You shook her head, “That’s not the best part,” you began. “You know what the best part is?” You began to walk back over to your bed. You let out a small sob, “The best part is that I also found out that we’re replaceable.” Pedro watched as you sat on your bed, it pained him to see you in such dismay. It also pained him to hear the news that your mother was alive, she was alive and had another family. “The woman we both thought was trying to protect us from herself, is out there with a family of her own-”
“Cariño,” your dad tried to interrupt.
“I have a brother and sister that I don’t even know! And she’s in these pictures laughing with them, she’s at birthday parties and soccer games,” you took in a shaky breathe.
“Y/N,” He took a couple steps towards you.
“That should be me, dad,” There was the drop of water to break the dam. “It should be us,” you sobbed. Pedro quickly pulled you into an embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder, “It should be us,” you sobbed.
“I know, Mija,” he whispered as tears fell from his eyes, “I know.” He let you cry it out for a few minutes, mostly because at that moment he didn’t know what to say exactly. How he should console you after finding out something no one should ever experience. His mind wandered, how could someone create another family when they left one behind? He thought if it were him, he wouldn’t be able to do it. He knew it would always be in the back of his mind that he had abandoned another family.
Did it wander in the back of her head? Or did she just not care?
Pedro felt so angry just thinking about it. He wanted to track her down and just yell into the void. She was the love of his life or so he thought. He had considered her the love of his life, hopeful that one day she’d realize what she left behind and come back. She wasn’t coming back, though and now he knew that. Now he had to console you and find a way to show her what she missed out on.
Pedro let go of the embrace, taking your face in his hands once again. His thumb gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down your face, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before looking at you again. “We don’t need her,” he started to say.
“But-”
“I know, Mijita. It hurts,” you nod, “She has no idea what she’s missing out on, Mijita. Her kids have no idea what a horrible person she truly is as fucked up as that sounds, it’s true.” He gave you a smile through the tears, “The only thing that matters is that she gave me you, my beautiful baby girl. That’s all I know of her, she gave me you and she was nothing else.”
“You don’t regret being with her?”
Pedro could never regret it, “No, because then I wouldn’t have you. I can’t imagine my life without my little girl. I’m sorry you don’t have a mom in your life, but not every girl has multiple mom figures in their lives.” It was true, you had your tia and some of your dads close friends. Your dad let go of your face, he took a hold of your wrist. “But this,” he started to say, tears welled up in his eyes again, “Oh, baby girl,” he sighed.
“I’m sorry,” you cried.
“No, no, no,” he pulled you in for a quick embrace, before letting go, “we’re going to work on this together okay?” You nod, “I can help, we’ll make more appointments with your therapists, we’ll find healthy alternatives, and we’ll overcome this.” He choked back a sob, “but I never want to see you harming yourself again, please promise me that?” You remained silent.
You weren’t sure if you could promise it, mostly because you were addicted to the way it made you feel. “Prometeme, Y/N.” (Promise me)
“I-I’ll try,” you finally said. Pedro didn’t want to push it, if trying was what he could get, then it was enough for him. He could work with trying. Trying meant putting the effort and it meant to him that you still wanted to live.
“Trying is all I need,” he said. “I can’t lose you. Know that you have people that love you.”
You looked up at your dad in realization, you never realized how much it could impact your dad. How self harm was always correlated with darker actions. Darker actions that your father had a past with. This time, you pulled him into an embrace, “you won’t lose me,” you said. “I can promise you that.”
He let out a relieved sigh, “we’ll have to talk about the food on your desk too.”
“I’m sorry,” you began. “I just-”
“No, I know.” You didn’t have to say more, he knew what it was like. To be too much in your mind to even eat. He understood, “let’s get you something to eat, hmm?”
You nod, watching as he got up from the bed, “I love you, papi.”
“I love you too, Mija,” he gave you a small smile. You got up from the bed, following him into the kitchen. He ordered you your favorite take out, once the food had arrived you both took the food to the living room.
Pedro glanced over at your wrist from time to time, his heart sank every time, but he was going to get you better help. Over time, the cuts will heal and they’ll just be white little memories of the battles you’ve dealt with, but Pedro knew he never wanted you to feel like you’ve hit rock bottom. From here on out, he was going to try his hardest to make sure you were your healthiest, physically and mentally.
He placed a small kiss on your temple, “love you,” he said softly.
You gave him a smile, “Love you too, dad,” you said, focusing your attention back on the television. You both knew the journey from here on out wasn’t going to be easy, it wasn’t said aloud, but it was like a silent acknowledgment. But eventually, it’ll be okay because pain was just temporary.
Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01 @tracysnookok @cilliansangel @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @twkobii
CLICK HERE to be added to the taglist
#pedro pascal x daughter!reader#pedro pascal x daughter#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal daddy#pedro pascal x teen#pedro pascal x teen!reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x daughter teen#pedro pascal request#pedro pascal teen!reader#pedro pascal x teen reader#pedro pascal x daughter reader
424 notes
·
View notes
Text
Officer Hot
Trigger Happy AU
Part 2
Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
A/N: Tried to switch between pov and past/present some more with this one. Also, this may be a calm chapter…. But let’s just say the tags aren’t for nothing… some true colors are soon to be revealed…
Thank yall for the love on part 1, hope yall enjoy (+｀∀´)b
Disclaimer: English is not my first language… all mistakes are my own
AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI
Warnings Part 2: Slight stalking, impatient professor, thirsty reader
Summary: Officer Maximoff doesn’t like your roommate.
Word Count: 1357
You can’t stop. Your legs bounce under your desk, and your fingers tap a paced rhythm. You sigh in annoyance; you just can’t stop thinking about her.
/////
You had been extremely late to class.
The professor had stood there cussing you out for a good 10 minutes until he finally relented and let you sit down. When he was yelling at you, you were sure you would cry, but you didn’t. You didn’t even have to sniffle to keep the tears at bay, like when you were in high school and would tear up every time someone mentioned Mr. Wilford, your then-Spanish teacher.
It feels like you aren’t even here, your mind is hazy, and you can’t seem to pull focus. Your thoughts just keep drifting toward the redhead you practically ran from to get here. Had you known you would be late anyways, you might have stayed a bit longer. You liked her rich voice, the way she spoke with such authority.
She had stood so tall and secure when she spoke to you. Her green eyes, searching. The way she looked at you was so disarming, so… Hungry.
She had acted like she wanted to eat you alive.
…..What would happen had you let her?
The way her hot breath felt against your ear, the way she smirked at you. It was all a sweet form of domination. Would she be gentle? Would she pet your hair while telling you what a good girl you are as you kneel for her?
Or would she have fucked you right there, by the side of the road for her team, and any by-walkers to see? Would she wrap her hands around your throat and squeeze just the right amount? Or maybe she would leave bruises, show the world whom you belonged to-
“Hallo?”
You almost jump out of your seat.
Looking around with wide eyes you realize you are the only one left in the classroom, save for the professor. The professor that is continuously waving his hand in front of your face. Realization washes over you and you almost smack your head into your desk in embarrassment. Before he can question you, or yell at you, about what the hell is wrong with you. You hastily pack up and leave with a quick sorry thrown in his direction.
You feel flush, never had your fantasies taken you down that road. Especially not with a complete stranger. Your thighs rub together as you walk down the corridor; an uncomfortable amount of wetness was accumulating.
You feel a bit guilty as you wonder what the issue was. Maybe something really bad had happened, maybe someone had died. You chew your lip, nervously. Was there a reason for Officer Maximoff to question you specifically? You shake your head; you were getting way ahead of yourself.
Perhaps it was just by chance? Wrong place, wrong time maybe?
You wonder what she is going to ask you.
-------
The redhead’s rapport sits unwritten in her folder. It didn’t matter. Not when she finally has something of purpose to do.
Like the proper girl you are, you had written down your full name on the piece of paper. Wanda smiles as she reads it over and over, Y/n Y/l/n. You had been such a good girl, such a sweet little kitten.
Wanda had been researching you, and your life, for the past few hours. After you ran away from her, earlier that day, she had driven back to the station and immediately entered your name into their database.
How could someone blame her for wanting to take a peek into the life of her good girl?
Y/n Y/l/n, y/a years of age, you live two blocks away from the “crime scene”. Apartment house: Acornhouse Ave, Apt 62. You have a roommate named Jessica Maison, age 24. From what she could find on her own, you don’t use social media a whole lot.
Your roommate, however, appears to be obsessed with it. She has countless users, all of whom are updated thoroughly throughout the day. Every post is a useless picture of either Jessica’s face or food.
There is only one photo that caught her eye.
It was posted 7 months back. It is a picture of you and her, at some party, she is standing far too close for comfort, and she has her hands wrapped around you.
Wanda’s nails dig into her palm as she clenches her fists. She has to remember to breathe through her nose and exhale out her mouth. It’s best she stays calm; she doesn’t want to scare you away too fast. However, Wanda can’t just ignore the photo, you looked so uncomfortable. Like you had wanted to get away, away from that disgusting girl. She has to do something. She’s a cop, after all, it’s her responsibility to keep you safe and secure.
She has an idea.
-------
You almost moan as you set your bag down. After having to walk an extra three blocks just to get home, you were exhausted, and in much need of some food.
You lean down to unlace your Converse and put them on the shoe rack, and with a groan, you also put Jessica’s shoes in their designated place. You love her, but come on, was it that difficult to move her shoes?
“I’m home!”
“….”
Strange. You can’t recall her having a shift at the diner today? Least of all without her snickers. Your brows knit together, but you shrug it off, she’s probably just getting food or something.
As if on cue your stomach rumbles. You make your way to the kitchen, disappointed to see the lack of food, you throw in a microwavable dinner into the microwave. As you wait, you think more of what could have happened in your, rather boring, neighborhood. They had blocked off the street from this morning. So, you couldn’t get a good look, but you remember seeing a big black plastic bag before the Officer walked over to you. A body bag maybe?
You hope not.
A “pling” alarms you that your food is ready, and you sit down at the small dining table, which could barely count as a table, to eat it. Jessica always prefers to sit on the couch and eat, but you find it a bit sloppy, and you would rather not have to clean the couch every day due to your habit of missing your mouth. More than what is probably normal for a legal adult like yourself.
After a while, and a thorough cleaning of the table from your mishaps, you can finally get ready for bed. You roll your shoulders as you walk to the bathroom. You have been feeling all types of sticky since this morning and can’t wait to get it off.
As you turn on the light to the bathroom you feel a shiver run down your spine. You can’t place it, but something feels… off.
Like you weren’t the only one there, in your tiny little apartment.
You intend on just ignoring this strange feeling as it would be almost impossible to hide in this small space, but your guts tell you to just check. Just to make sure. You turn back around, intending to check if Jessica is just in her room sleeping, but something else catches your attention.
Did Jessica rearrange the furniture?
(a/n: Im sorry. I just love cliffhangers)
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
Trapped by your love | Eddie Munson x Reader
•
A/N
Pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader
Summary: Eddie breaks up with the reader because he feels he doesn't deserve her :(
Word count: 2.8 k
Warnings ⚠️ : Angst, a whole lotta angst; alcohol consumption, and more angst ig??
Note: hi my lovelies! let me know if you want part 2, so we don't end it on a cliffhanger and I can bring some joy into your lives after all this angst! enjoy! ♡ XO
•
Your eyes are closed. The cool night air is vibrating around you, alive with the energy of dozens of teenagers in motion, trying to drown their sorrows in cheap beer and good music. Every beat is rushing through you, pumping your blood and electrifying your muscles. Your movements are fluid, hands up in the air, letting themselves be led by the sweet melody that’s flooding your ears, blocking out everything else.
“We are strong
No one can tell us we're wrong
Searching our hearts for so long
Both of us knowing
Love is a battlefield.”
Pat Benatar’s emotional words resonate with your heavy heart. They fill your head, substituting the loud thoughts that have been eating away at you for the past months .All you want to feel is this moment, because anything else would hurt too bad. As if thinking that you’ve forgotten about them for too long, yesterday’s memories crawl their way back into your mind. You chug your warm beer, trying to make them go away but they’re still there, making your chest tighten. Oh god, not now, you think. The crowd suddenly becomes suffocating. You elbow and push your way through the sweaty bodies, making your way inside to the pub’s tiny bathroom.
The door shuts behind you with a slam, as your hands harshly grip the cold sink tile beneath them. Your head drops, arms shaking as tears start streaming down your face. It’s been too long since it happened, you should be fine by now. But wherever you go, whatever you do, he’s always in the back of your mind. The music is now a muffled sound, but you still manage to make out the words that twist the knife in your heart
“ You're making me go
Then making me stay
Why do you hurt me so bad?
It would help me to know
Do I stand in your way
Or am I the best thing you've had?”
It’s hard to enjoy the party. It’s hard to think straight. It’s hard to stop crying. It’s hard to breathe….without Eddie.
March 1986. 6 months earlier
“So what are you saying?” There was no way this could be happening right now. You try and remain stoic, but it’s impossible. Your tone was getting louder, emotions pouring out of every word. Maybe you just hadn’t understood what he was telling you. Sometimes things get mixed up without us wanting them to. You sit on the couch in Eddie’s living room, trying to work out the reason he was saying these things. Playing with your hands, you squeeze them tightly in hopes of grounding yourself.
“I’m saying… I- I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” Eddie was leaning against the wall, his eyes glued to the floor. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. If he saw your beautiful face, the face he loved more than anything in this world, he knew he couldn’t go through with it. But because he loved you so much, he had to. He had to put an end to it. It wasn’t going anywhere. You had just graduated, top of your class. You could go to any college you desired, yet you chose to stay here in Hawkings, with him. Your future was glistening brightly ahead of you, and all he was doing was slowly dimming the light, until there was nothing left but despairing darkness.
His fate had been decided by the family he was born into. His mother bailed out before he could even remember her face and his old man had been in and out of prison his whole life. Uncle Wayne had been the only form of parental love the boy had ever known and he was breaking his back day in, day out, to put food on the table. Society hadn’t been kind to him either. He was hated and labelled as a freak. Eddie knew his life wouldn’t amount to anything big. As much as he despised it, he could slowly see himself turning into his father. After all, he was a worthless drug dealer, repeating his senior year for the third time, wasn’t he? He selfishly allowed himself to fall in love with you. But how couldn’t he, when you were the most precious soul he had ever met? Not falling in love with you seemed like a challenge many a man have failed yet and yet again. In the end, he had to face the truth: you were just too good for him, and nothing would change that.
“Eddie...I-I don’t understand...Did I do something?” You look up at Eddie with your heart silently breaking, wondering where it had all gone wrong. The room starts to feel too small. You get up from the old couch, grabbing Eddie’s hand to make him look at you. But he doesn’t. His eyes stay focused on the floor, curly locks of hair falling over his face, hiding the tears that were starting to build in his eyes. “Please, please just tell me what it is so we can fix it. We can fix anything, baby. Just please tell me, Eddie…” You let go of his hand and bring both your hands to his chest, sliding them up to cup his face. He gently removes them and pushes you away, his eyes finally meeting yours. Eddie’s heart sinks as he looks at you, fully transparent, with fear and sadness written all over your face. Fear and sadness he had caused.
“This just isn’t working. We’re not working anymore.” That’s a lie, he thinks The words leaving his mouth were in complete antithesis with his feelings. But he knows if he told you the truth, the real reason he was breaking up with you, you would never accept it. So he had to sell it, somehow.
“What do you mean?” Should you have known he was feeling this way? Now, when you think about it, Eddie had been distant these past few days. No cuddles, barely there kisses and fleeting, superficial touches. You didn’t think much of it, blaming it on your conflicting schedules. He was busy playing shows since his band “Corroded Coffin” started getting recognition around Hawkings and you were busy at the diner, working extra shifts to earn some more money, since you and Eddie had been talking about getting a place together. But it seems there was more to it than you thought. You close your eyes, take a deep breath in and slowly let it out as you prepare yourself for the worst “Do you not love me anymore?”
His gaze shifts uncomfortably, looking everywhere he possibly can just to avoid your eyes, now open and expecting an answer. Of course I love you! I love you so much it hurts, he thinks. Even so, he doesn’t say that. Instead, he lies to you “No. I don’t”.
Your eyes close again, you can’t seem to keep them open for too long. The reality you were faced with was just too agonising. You feel your nails digging into the flesh of your palms, your hands curled into tight fists. The pain will hopefully wake you up from this horrible nightmare. And when you wake up next to Eddie, he’s going to kiss your wet cheeks and whispers sweet nothings in your ear until you fall back asleep, safely wrapped in his arms, the way you did a hundred times before.
But this time, the nightmare doesn’t stop as you open your eyes.
“I think you should go” his head leans against the wall behind him, his Adam’s Apple moving up and down as he tries to undo the knot in his throat that’s making it hard for him to talk. Please don’t leave me, he thinks. Please see through my act. You always said you could read me like a book. So do it now, sweetheart. Read me.
“I’m not going anywhere” That’s my girl, Eddie thinks “I’m not going anywhere until you look me in the eyes and you tell me you don’t love me anymore” You see his head snap down, jaw clenching as he searches your face carefully. You swear you can see a shadow of fear in his eyes. Why would he be afraid, when he’s the one ending things so carelessly?
Oh no, oh no no no, he rages inside his head. Please don’t make me do that. I can’t do that, Y/N...
Your eyes never leave his face, waiting for Eddie to do what you asked of him. This all seems unreal. He swore he would never hurt you, and you believed him. You believed him with every ounce of your being because he was Eddie. Sweet, kind, loyal, goofy, loving Eddie. You didn’t know who this person standing in front of you was. But it sure as hell wasn’t the man you fell in love with.
He looks at you, even though you’re putting on a brave face, like you always do, he can see how vulnerable you are. Your hands come up and wrap around yourself. He wants nothing more than to stop this. To hug you and kiss you and tell you you’re his universe.
“Say it” you raise your voice. “Say it Eddie, and I’ll leave”. And you would. You would leave his life, if that’s what he wanted. But only if he said it. You know that Eddie could never look you in the eye and lie to you. So if he’s going to say it, he must really mean it.
Eddie pushes himself off the wall, stepping closer to you. You breathe in his familiar scent, a mix of cologne, cigarettes and weed, thinking it might be the last time.
Don’t say it, Munson. Be selfish, he thinks. Say it was all a mistake, drop to your knees and beg for her forgiveness. As much as he wants to, he knows he’s doing the right thing for you. As much as it kills him, he has to make you leave him, because he knows he could never leave you.
“I don’t love you anymore” His face is wooden as he looks you in the eyes. Confusion, anger and defeat infiltrate your bones. Your heart is scorched and spasming. He really didn’t love you. Your Eddie didn’t love you anymore.
He opens the door to his trailer, stepping aside to make room for you “Now leave.”
Present day
A loud banging noise on the door pulls you out of your reverie. “In a minute” you yell and look at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy, mascara running down your face. Well, aren’t you a sight to see? you think to yourself. You try your best to fix your makeup and pull yourself together before exiting the bathroom.
There’s a line of pissed off girls waiting outside the door, giving you dirty looks and making rude side comments as you walk past them “Jesus, how much coke did this bitch snort?” a redhead snickers. You ignore them and make your way to the bar, ordering another beer. You feel a bit of tension being relieved as the cold liquid pours down your throat, making you forget about everything for just a second. As quickly as it went away, it all comes flooding back in.
Breaking up with Eddie was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to go through. First, it was despair, excruciating pain that wouldn’t let you eat, sleep or do anything else than think about him. You called this the withdrawal stage. Every bone in your body was craving for him, and punishing you for not supplying. You figured you just had to sweat it out until he was out of your system. Although it was hard, you managed to make it through. But then came the dreams. Tortured dreams, reminiscent of your time spent with Eddie. You would dream about him laughing, embracing you, kissing you, making love to you, only to wake up heartbroken and alone, sobbing his name into your pillow. Now, it’s just this numbness and emptiness that never really goes away. It’s worse than the withdrawal or the dreams, because you’re starting to see things as they are. Before, there was a glimmer of hope that maybe you would get back together. But at this moment in time, you’re haunted by the thought of spending your life without Eddie by your side. And that’s something you would never be able to get used to.
These past few months have been a struggle trying to remember what life was like before Eddie. You go out with your friends, party, have meaningless one night stands and then do it all again the next day. It was all monotone, but for now, it was better than crying yourself to sleep.
Someone bumps into your back, making you stumble forward. You grab the countertop for stability and turn around, prepared to snap at the culprit.
“Hey, ass-“ your voice sticks in your throat when you see that familiar head of hair and that charming smile every girl in your high school used to swoon over. “Steve?” you stare at him, dumbfounded. For the first time in months, you actually feel true happiness.
“Oh my god, Y/N!” the very next second he pulls you into a tight, smothering hug, knocking the air out of you. As glad as you are to see him, and you truly are, it’s a bit difficult to breathe with Steve squeezing the life out of you.
“Steve-can’t-breathe…” you try and say, face buried into his chest. He lets go of you, but leaves his hands on your shoulders as if he can’t believe you’re actually there.
“Wow, look at ya! I almost didn’t recognise you, and I mean that in a good way” he smirks as he looks you up and down, taking in your outfit. Your style had changed a bit since the whole…Eddie thing. The colourful, decent pants and blouses being substituted by darker coloured, bolder dresses and skirts.
“So what’s up?” He finally lets go of you and motions for you to sit down in the stools.
“Nothing much. I’m here with some friends from college. But what about you? You’re quite a long way from Hawkings. What brings you here?” You see him shift uncomfortably in his seat at your question, picking at the label of the beer he had ordered for himself.
“Oh, uh…you don’t know?”
“Know what?” were you supposed to know something? “Ohmygod, did someone die? Is it Robin? It is, isn’t it? I always knew that clumsy lump would get herself killed one day!"
"What? No!" He stops your rambling
"Oh, thank God" you look at him relieved, with a hand over your chest "What's the occasion then?"
"Uh well you see-"
Steve gets interrupted by a mans hand on his shoulder. "Hey Steve, they're gonna start playing soon so you should come now if you wanna get a spot in the front"
"Right! Thanks man, I'll be right there" The man leaves and Steve's attention returns to you, his eyes still looking at you in a cautious and unsure manner. "Y/N, you really don't now who's playing tonight?"
"No, they usually don't have live bands and if they do I don't really care much for them, I just come for the bottomless Martinis and the cheap beer" you laugh, but Steve seems to be far from amused. "Why? Who's playing?"
As Steve opens his mouth to respond to you, he's interrupted by the sound of a guitar. An all to familiar voice speaks into the microphone, generating playback: "1,2,1,2…Alright, good evening ladies and gents. Hope you are all ready to rooock tonight, 'cause I know we are"
Your heart reacts before your brain, tightening at the voice you hear blasting through the speakers. Although you spend all your time fighting to forget that voice..it remains imprinted on your mind and soul.
You slowly turn around, looking to the stage at the back of the bar. "I am Eddie Munson and it is my pleasure to introduce to you... Corroded Coffin! Let's get it boys!"
To be continued
#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson angst#eddie munson imagines#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#stranger things eddie#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson sad#eddie munson st4#eddie munson series#eddie munson scenario#steve harrington#steddie#steve harrington x reader#angst#sad#nancy stranger things#eleven hopper#eleven stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things 4#stranger things season 4#johnathan byers#will byers#the duffer brothers
179 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Angel for Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 3]
DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune
PART ONE; PART TWO
PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules [she/her]
SUMMARY: Following Noah through his daily life, let Jules no other option but to help.
WARNINGS: swearing, mentions/hints of sexual interactions/acts, mentions of death
A/N: HELLOOO! Finally the third part of the series, it took me a bit because my life is stressing me out right now. University is starting again soon and I'm changing jobs… but enough of my private problems, this chapter excited me, because it takes a closer look on the dynamic between Noah and Jules. I really like it. I hope you enjoy it too and if so I would appreciate it if you reblog this part! Thank you so much for the great resonance on this work and now enjoy!
TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @measuredingold @cncohshit
If you wanna be added to the taglist of this story, please DM me or let me know in the comments!
Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.
Four weeks. Four weeks since she first met Noah. Four weeks since Jules had died.
The past four weeks had been filled with her watching Noah live and breathe. She saw him produce music, she saw him eat, and she saw him talking to his friends about the tour that would start in a couple of days. Hell, she even saw him getting horny and doing not-so-PG things, even though she respectfully left him alone during that.
She had learned that Noah was a chronically stressed person. Just like she was. He was literally trapped in his own head. A picture-perfect perfectionist.
She had watched him record a segment over and over again, because he somehow wasn't happy with his results, even though he had a godlike voice.
Watching him struggle like that made her mad. Not because he annoyed her, but because he reminded her so much of herself that she started to hate herself a bit for how hard she was on herself when she was still alive.
She noticed, he had this crippling anxiety about letting down the people he loved. Just like she had. It was cruel to watch him suffer so much.
The more she got to know about him, the more she felt like looking into a mirror. Something she didn't like. Nobody liked to be reminded of how broken they really were. Jules was no exception. The more she watched Noah, the more she was forced to reflect on herself.
She had this cruel need of wanting to tell him how good he did and how loved he was, but she couldn't. He had no idea she even existed. That fact was something that made her even more bitter.
Her living self was slowly fading away.
She had noticed that she didn't need to breathe. She could just sit there and watch. But the silence that came with it was even more painful, so she decided to just go on using her useless lungs. She also noticed that she couldn't look at herself anymore. She had no idea how she looked. Likewise, she would never have the opportunity again to see herself.
Was it possible to suffer from post-death-depression? Because if something like that existed, she definitely had it.
She also 'met' the others.
There was Jolly, the guitarist. She had often found him playing some melodies, when he had free time. He was rather quiet but always knew the right words, when needed. She lovingly decided to call him Dad Omens.
Than there was one Nick, they called him Ruffilo. He was the bassist of the band. Sometimes when Noah got on her nerves, she searched for him in the house. He calmed her down without even knowing, radiating unbelievable calmness and composure.
The other Nick, Folio, on the other hand, was a total goofball. He was the drummer of the band and closest in age to Jules, even though that didn't matter anymore since she was going to be 22 forever. He definitely was the funniest out of the group and made her forget about her misery for a couple of seconds a day.
Than there were their other friends: Matt, the tour manager, Davis, amazing artist with an adorable dog (Max) that might have already barked at Jules about five times, Steven, who was responsible for their merch and Bryan, their photographer. Each of them had absolutely unique talents, that amazed Jules individually.
Right now she found herself in the living room. The boys were eating dinner and discussed some important tour things. The room was heated with tension. All of them hadn't got enough sleep the last couple of days. That lead to them arguing over almost every bit they said.
Every word they said to each other felt like a bullet, there to hit someone personally. For Jules, it was like a car crash, she wanted to look away but seemingly couldn't. With that thought, she slightly chuckled to herself. She just knew people were staring at her accident.
God, she really began to hate people...
She slightly dissociated when the discussion became even more heated. The last couple of days made her reflect on herself more than she ever had. Every little thing she did just seemed so useless at the moment. When she heard the boys argue like that, she could just think about how irrelevant it all was. What if one of them died tonight? Each of them would regret every bad word they said to each other.
Jules snapped back to reality when Noah jumped out of his seat. "You know what? Fuck this. I'm going." He exclaimed directly at Ruffilo's face, causing Jules to raise her eyebrows. What the hell had happened?
She quickly got up from her spot on the couch and followed him upstairs, where he just grabbed a jacket and his car keys before making his way out of the house, not even once flinching when Ruffilo called after him.
That was definitely something what made her different from him. He was stubborn as hell, while she nearly almost gave in every time.
She ran after him and somehow managed to land on the passenger seat of his car while he cursed out Nick under his breath. Jules was almost sure where Noah was going. There had been this girl - Jules didn't catch her name - who was occasionally visited by him. They weren't in a relationship, but Noah seemed to let off some steam when he met up with her. It bugged Jules when she was honest with herself, but she didn't really know why.
On one hand, she really thought the girl's vibe was off, but on the other hand, she blamed it on her awkwardness when it came to intimacy. It wasn't like she never kissed anybody, she actually managed to have her first time, too, but never really had the urge to seek a sexual relationship with anyone. When she was honest with herself, she only had sex with that guy because she wanted to know how it felt. She quickly realized that she wasn't sexually attracted to someone when she didn't feel an emotional connection. And since she hadn't had the opportunity to fall in love in her short span of life, she never felt the need to have sex again after her (more than bad) first time.
In the first five minutes of the drive, he still muttered to himself how annoyed he was with everyone, but then the atmosphere slowly changed. Suddenly Jules experienced the most gruesome goose bumps she ever felt, and her gaze shot to Noah, who, to her horror, had closed his eyes.
FUCK. WHAT DO I DO?
Jules' heart started to race. She didn't know what to do. She ran a hand through her hair, while she saw how the car slowly got closer to the side of the road.
"Fuck" She exclaimed, frantically looking around the car to see her options. At first she tried to grab the steering wheel and even though she could get a grasp of it, she couldn’t force it to turn.
She let out a panicked scream before looking at the sleeping Noah. She snapped her fingers in front of his face and screamed. "WAKE THE FUCK UP, YOU DICKHEAD."
When he didn’t move, Jules groaned in frustration, and before she knew it, she lashed out and slapped Noah on the cheek, who almost let out a scream before stepping on the brakes, almost smashing Jules against the windshield.
Noah held his cheek while looking around him in horrors and Jules knew she had fucked up bad. Was she even allowed to do this? Was there something like angel jail? Would she be fired? Was that even possible?
To her surprise, her slap must have redirected something in his brain, because he turned the car and drove back. He even put on loud music to make sure, he wouldn't doze off again.
Jules couldn't even look away anymore. Her gaze was fixated on his face. She wouldn't dare let that happen again. She kind of felt like it stirred up her death trauma. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she would make sure he wouldn't get killed by a car. That was her package to carry.
Noah didn't seem to have caught his breath again when he parked his car in front of the house again. Jules still felt guilty while she followed him back into the house, but she was more than pleasantly surprised when she saw him go up to Ruffilo's room and knock against the door.
"Yeah?" - "Can I come in?" - "Sure."
With that both of them stepped into Nick's room. Jules felt herself get kind of excited when she entered Nick's room, since it was the first time for her. She quickly made her way to the corner of the room like she was trying to be even more invisible.
"I'm sorry for screaming at you. I shouldn't have done that." Noah told his best friend, who was leaning against the headboard of his bed. He eyed Noah for a couple of seconds before nodding. "It's okay. We are all exhausted as hell, and the tour hasn't even begun."
Noah nodded and sighed at the same time.
Suddenly, Nick narrowed his eyes a bit and stared at Noah's face, causing Jules to become equally aware of something she hadn't noticed before. Noah's cheek was colored in a slight red tone.
"Were you at her place again?" Nick wanted to know causing Noah to eye him confused. "What do you mean?"
Nick waved his hands to indicate to Noah what he meant. Jules could see how Noah's cheeks turned a slight pink, and she would have lied if she said hers didn’t change colors, either. Becoming Noah's guardian angel also gave her information about Noah’s likes and dislikes when it came to a certain topic. Whether she wanted that or not.
"No… No… I wasn’t at her place… I wanted to go, but…" Noah answered but stopped for a second to think. When he was being honest with himself, he didn’t even know what to think.
"What?" - "I… I just…" Noah ran a hand threw his hair. "I almost slept in while driving."
"Are you okay?" Nick asked him with widened eyes.
"Yes… don’t worry… It was just kind of weird." Noah explained to his best friend. "It almost felt like someone slapped me in the face."
"Maybe it was your adrenaline and you hit your cheek or something." Nick tried to explain, while Jules looked apologetic, even though nobody could see her. It felt like neither Nick nor Noah believed his words.
Noah just shrugged his shoulders, before he took a deep breath. "Maybe I should get some sleep."
Nick nodded at him and with that Noah left Nick's room after wishing him a good night. Jules quickly followed after him.
She was still tense from what she had done earlier. She didn’t know what consequences her slap would have and what her intervention would do to Noah. She just knew it terrified her to her core.
So when Noah laid down on her bed, she set on the edge for a while. Noah on the other hand stared at the ceiling and was deep in his thoughts. Jules hoped he would just blame it all on his adrenaline rush. She wished she could just take his thoughts away from him.
She sighed before looking at Noah. He had closed his eyes but Jules felt that his mind was definitely still racing. When she looked at him like that she saw his beauty in all display again.
She couldn’t deny how beautiful he actually was. With his dark hair and even darker eyes. His small freckles on his face. His long lashes. These tattoos. Just everything about him spoke to her, even though she was pretty sure she would have never approached a man looking like him while she was still alive. Not that she was intimidated, but her parents would have died on the spot seeing her.
Her, a soft girl, always being dressed in light colours, playing the violin and having little to zero experience when it came to social interactions closer than hand shaking.
And on the other hand, him, almost always being dressed dark, except a couple of shirts she saw, being the vocalist of a metal core band and being the exact opposite when it came to romantic or at least sexual experience.
To her surprise it didn’t take long before she heard him breathe deeper and she knew he must have dozed off. Her gaze fixated on his face again.
She exhaled in frustration before turning to Noah. "Never do that again, Noah."
Without even thinking she reached out and stroked his cheek in a swift motion. When she saw him frown lightly, she quickly withdrew her hand and panicked she might have woken him. He just sighed and turned to his side.
Jules took a deep breath before standing up and leaving his room. She needed to establish some rules for herself, beginning with the most important…
Never touch him again…
READ PART FOUR HERE.
#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fanfic#noah sebastian x reader#bad omens fic#noah sebastian fic#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfic#bad omens#bad omens rpf#collapsedglasshouseswrites#noah sebastian x OC
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
the great war
“my hand was the one you reached for, all throughout the great war.”
pairing: peeta mellark x reader
summary: in which you are hijacked by the capitol and peeta will do anything in his power to get you back
requested !
warnings/contains: hijacking, chocking, angst?? lmk if i should add more
a/n: i had this idea for a very very long time and this request convinced me to finish it!!! i’m so sorry this sucks and there will definitely be a part two 😝
The giggles leaving your lips as Peeta follows you were like music to his ears. With his hand in yours he wished he could capture this moment and remember it forever. He loved everything about you, every single part of you. But what he loved the most was your smile.
Your smile reminded him of the sunset, something he could stare at for hours and never get bored of. You quickened your pace, your laughter never dying down. Peeta chuckled, and quickly followed after you, not wanting to lose his grip on your hand.
But as you kept moving faster and faster, his hand came closer to slipping from yours. Your laughter died down and your surroundings started to change. Slowly, but surely, Peeta was back in the arena. The arena he knew all too well. You threw your head over your shoulder in fear, yelling at Peeta to run faster. Peeta’s mind was completely clouded, he had no clue about what was going on. But his feet carried him anyway, as if they had a mind of their own.
Peeta tried to reach out for your hand, wanting some comfort during these events. But just when your fingertips touched his, an arrow flew towards the sky, hitting the dome right when the lighting was about to strike. Peeta watched as you were blown away from him and screamed your name.
He woke up screaming, sweat beads dripping from his face. “It’s okay, Peeta. You had that one bad dream again.” Haymitch muttered. He was seated on a chair beside Peeta’s bed, his gaze fixated on his hands.
Peeta turned his head to look at him, his breaths heavy as he tried to process the nightmare he has had for the millionth time this week. Haymitch shook his head, knowing who Peeta was searching for as he scanned the room, “The capitol has her, remember?”
Peeta let that sink in like he did every single time he had woken up the past week.
Haymitch got up from his seat, walking towards the exit of the room, “You should get dressed, kid, lunch is in five.” He threw a sympathetic look Peeta’s way, because he too was upset that the capitol had taken you. Haymitch opened his mouth to tell Peeta something, but left the room, leaving Peeta in misery at the thought of you.
The moment he lost you haunted him day and night. He remembered when he had woken up in a plane, right after the dome had blown up. Peeta remembered hearing voices, talking about how they couldn’t find you when they saved everyone. He fell back to sleep right at that moment, and dreamed of you until he woke up the day after. Peeta could remember how furious he had gotten when he had heard about how they had forgotten you. Everyone tried to calm him down and eventually, after a very long time, he did. But that didn’t mean he was just okay with it.
Quite the opposite actually.
Peeta got up from his bed, not a single bone in him wanting to continue this any longer. But he had to. He hadn’t seen or heard from you in a week and he had to admit, even a minute without you was like his world wasn’t real. While changing his clothes, he wished, just like everyday, that he was the one who was taken by the capitol, not you. You were supposed to be the one being saved. Not him.
Haymitch had promised him.
His train of thoughts continued as he made his way down the stairs. They continued as he walked into the dining hall, his stare on the ground. Peeta got in line for the food, absentmindedly grabbing something to eat. He despised himself for not knowing where you were. It was eating him alive, and he wanted nothing more than to be with you right now. Suddenly, the screens in the cafetaria turned on, catching every single person’s attention. Including Peeta’s. He walked towards the table Katniss was sitting at, while his eyes were fixated on the screens.
The chatter died down when a message started to play on the screens. “Everyone’s wondering; what happened during the third quarter quell?” Flickerman’s voice made everyone, who wasn’t already looking, look up.
“And whatever it is you’re doing right now, stop doing it….” Peeta’s eyebrows screwed together, confusion hitting him. He locked gazes with Katniss, and he noticed that she was just as confused as he was. Flickerman spoke up once again, “Because you’re gonna want to witness this.”
“To help us answer the question I had stated earlier - a question all of us have been asking ourselves and others - please, welcome-“
The moment you appeared on screen, Peeta’s heart dropped. He sat in a state of absolute shock, however, when he had finally processed that it was in fact you, he got up to walk over. He mumbled your name and if his heart wasn’t already aching for you, it definitely was now. You looked different, almost fragile as you looked at Flickerman. “So, talk us through what happened that night. The night everyone has been talking about non-stop.”
You blinked rapidly, trying your best not to look at the camera and to come up with an answer Snow will be pleased with. “Being in the games, well, it costs a lot. It costs lives. And what happened that night was something that… cost a lot more.”
Peeta didn’t listen from there on, his main focus being on how you looked and acted. He knew that wasn’t the real you, everything you said, the way you said it. It wasn’t you. It was a programmed, entirely different you.
You discussed with Flickerman, standing up for both Peeta and Katniss, since he had something to say about them. When the discussion ended, your turned your head towards the camera, saying what the woman told you to earlier, word for word.
“All of this violence, all of this killing. Why do we do this?” Peeta was so fixated on you, that he didn’t even notice the effect your words had on the people in the cafetaria. You continued, “Killing. Killing’s not the answer and never will be. Everyone should lay down their weapons immediately.”
After Flickerman asked you a final question, to which you answered to with a plead, the screens turned off. The entire room started shouting nonsense, but all Peeta could think about was that you were alive. He had to get you out of there before they would do worse things to you.
From that day on, Peeta and the others stuck in district thirteen did everything in the power to get you back. And every single week there was an interview of you and Flickerman on the screens. The only sign you were still alive. And in every following interview the life in you seemed to lessen.
It took a long while of prepping and practicing, but finally, Peeta was going to have you back. It was a difficult plan to execute and they weren’t even sure it would work, but Peeta held the hope. And thanks to Katniss and Finnick, he wasn’t alone in this.
Thankfully, the plan worked and Peeta couldn’t have been more happier than he was in that moment. He counted the seconds until you were in his arms again.
He was in his room when Haymitch came to bring him the good news that you were back. Peeta couldn’t contain his excitement and he jumped up to follow Haymitch to you.
When he entered the room you were in, Peeta’s heart stopped beating. He was met with your back as the people around you were investigating you and your heartbeat. He whispered your name, almost terrified this wasn’t real.
You lifted your head the sound of your name, the voice making you fill with rage. When you turned your head to look at him, Peeta couldn’t bear to see the sight before him. You looked completely beaten up and vulnerable.
The look on your face as you looked on him went past him while he observed you. He couldn’t believe his eyes, at last you were here with him. Away from the people who had hurt you whole he wasn’t with you.
You let out a yell of rage before jumping straight at him, everything Snow had told you about Peeta ringing in your thoughts.
Peeta couldn’t form a single coherent thought as your hands were wrapped around his neck, choking him mercilessly. You pushed away everyone in the way as they ran at you, your only mission to kill the man laying beneath you.
But before Peeta’s eyes closed in defeat, someone hit your head with a chair.
You fell on top of Peeta, who had been knocked out by the lack of air.
#the hunger games#thg fanfiction#peeta mellark#peeta mellark x reader#thg peeta#peeta mellark x you#peeta x reader#the hunger games peeta#peeta x you#angst
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
When I...
TW: suicide attempt
Wordcount: 3 500
Okay, so. It really is sad and all that, and probably triggering because even I cried while writing it, so I'm already sorry about that.
In all seriousness, there's nothing too graphic really, it's just mentioned how he does it but if you get triggered easily, please read something else.
Also harry is there (not when he does it I'm not that cruel)
“Moons?” Remus hummed sleepily, running his hand through Sirius' hair, waiting for what the boy had to say. “When I die, I want to be buried somewhere nice.”
“Somewhere nice?” He asked, waking up as he tried to process what Sirius had just said. Sirius did say random things from time to time, but this sounded like something more than just a random thought before falling asleep. “Why're you thinking of dying, love? Everything alright?”
“Mhm, just came to mind.” He said. “wanted to tell you.”
“Okay, baby.” Remus whispered into his hair, before kissing his head. “Go to sleep, let's talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.”
Now that the conversation they had last night wouldn't stop repeating itself in his head, along with the last few weeks and what happened today. He really should've thought something about it and not just ignored it like he had.
Maybe he'd be holding Sirius' hand on their bed, instead of this hospital one. The room smelled so much like antiseptic that it made him feel sick. Maybe if he had asked more questions about his statement last night, instead of just telling him that they'd talk tomorrow.
He looked at the clock on the wall, it was half past ten already. He pulled out his phone, searching for Hope's contact, hoping she'd still be awake. “Hi mum.” He whispered when the phone was picked up after a few rings. “Sorry to wake you.”
“You didn't, rem. What's up, already Missing Harry?” She asked with a little laugh, and Remus almost felt like crying at that. He glanced at Sirius, before looking down at the floor.
“It's- it's not that.” He said, trying to block out the beeping noise of the heart rate monitor next to the bed Sirius was in. “We're in the hospital.”
“What's happened?” She asked, immediately getting worried. “Did something happen to you?”
“No mum, I'm okay.” He whispered. “It's Sirius. H-he tried to-.” Remus couldn't find himself to actually say the right words. It felt like too much, too real, too soon. “There was so much blood, mum.” He said quietly, trying to fight back the tears that burned in the corners of his eyes.
“Oh God.” It was quiet for a moment and Remus could tell she was trying not to cry too.
When Remus came from work, he had found Sirius laying on the bathroom floor. The place looked like a murderer scene, there was blood everywhere, and there was way too much of it. Then there was a half empty bottle of his medicine laying on the floor next to him.
He had tried to stop the bleeding by pressing on the way too deep looking wounds on his wrists. He was still awake, but it seemed like he was only barely there.
C'mon love, you gotta keep them pretty eyes open for me. No, no don't close them, you can't fall asleep now, okay? We gotta stay awake for a bit. Just keep them open, look at me, baby, please.
No, no, no… Remus, please. Please no.
He closed his eyes just as the paramedics came in. Remus just stood there, shaking with tears streaming down his face, as they tried to bring him back.
He eventually ended the phone call with his mum, promising to call her as soon as something would happen. He wiped his eyes, before looking at Sirius, he looked peaceful and beautiful, Remus thought, but then he realized he probably shouldn't think like that, considering the state that the boy was currently in.
“I love you.” He whispered into the hospital room, he didn't know whether Sirius could actually hear him or not, but that didn't matter, the silence was basically eating him alive. “Harry does too, and mum.” He smiled slightly, wiping his eyes again. “And James, Lily and Reggie.” Loved. “Maybe they still do, y'know? Maybe they're out somewhere watching over us?” He reached his other hand to brush away the stray strand of hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear.
“I'm so glad you're still here with me, and not out there with them, I think they're too.” He didn't bother with wiping away the tears anymore, they wouldn't stop even if he tried. “I was really scared, still am, but I know you'll be fine. Maybe not right now, and you don't have to be, but eventually, right?”
“You'll be fine.” He repeated quietly. “And I'll help you, I promise.” He hated himself for not noticing how bad it had gotten again. Or maybe he noticed but just didn't react to all of the little signs for a reason he couldn't remember now.
“Harry's okay, I called mum. S-she said that they had a fun day. He even got ice cream, and they baked cookies too.” His rambling drowned out the annoying noises the machines made, at least to him. And maybe Sirius could hear him, maybe. “We forgot to pack Mr. Froggie, but he had told mum that he's a big boy, and he can go one night with just his bunny.” He smiled slightly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Sirius' hand, just above the bandages.
“I'm pretty sure he'll wake up in the middle of the night and wonder where it is, he always does, doesn't he?” Remus said. “Then he'll crawl into mum's bed, saying he needs snuggles because his froggie isn't there. I don't think she'll be sleeping, though.”
“She's pretty worried, too.” He whispered. “mum s-she said something about when we dropped harry there. She said that she noticed you acting off somehow, I didn't. I'm sorry I didn't, love, I really am.”
“Don't.” Remus looked up from their hands, as Sirius opened his eyes, looking around the room, his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden brightness before he looked at Remus. “ 's not your fault.” His voice was hoarse, the total opposite of what it usually was.
“Y-you're awake.” He said, as if not believing what he was seeing. Sirius just nodded. He reached to press the button that called for the nurse.
“Why?” He whispered, coughing a bit as he looked at the button then back at Remus.
“They asked me to press it when you'd wake up.” He explained and Sirius nodded again, before looking around the room. The nurse came in soon, it was the same one Remus had seen earlier, she was really nice, that's at least what he thought. He couldn't quite recall her name though, he was sure she introduced herself, but he just couldn't remember it.
“Hi, I'm Lucy.” She smiled. “Good to see you're awake, Mr. Black. How are you feeling?” She asked, walking over to the bed and checking something, something Remus couldn't name even if he tried.
“I don't know.”
“Okay, that's understandable, does something hurt? I can give you some medicine if so.” Sirius shook his head, and she nodded. “That's good, just press the button if you need something.”
Sirius nodded slightly. “The doctor and someone from our mental health staff are going to come to talk with you soon, and then we'll go from there.”
“Okay.” He whispered, glancing at Remus for a minute before looking away again.
“So here is the remote that controls the bed if you want to adjust your position, and this red one here calls for a nurse.” She explained, and Sirius nodded again. “One more thing and I'll be on my way, can you move your hands?” She asked, and Sirius nodded showing her, once Remus let go of his hand. “Okay, how about your fingers, can you curl them up?” He showed her with both of his hands, curling them into fists before relaxing them again.
“Good, can you feel this normally?” Lucy asked, brushing her fingertips on the back of his hand, he nodded. “how about this?” Now she brushed her fingertips over his.
“Yeah.”
“Good. So like I said, a doctor will come soon, and just press the button if anything comes up.” Sirius nodded, and she left the room, leaving them alone once again.
“Why're you here?” Sirius asked once the door closed. Remus just stared at him for a minute before figuring out an answer.
“Because you're my boyfriend, and I found you. Why'd you think I'd leave you alone?” He just shrugged, looking away, but took Remus hand back into his. “I'm not gonna leave you alone, baby, never, especially not now.”
“Okay.” he said, going back to looking around the room instead of Remus. “You should go home, you don't like hospitals.”
“I don't, but I want to be with you.”
“What about Harry?”
“He's at-”
“I know, but we promised to pick him up in the morning.”
“I know.” He said, and Sirius nodded, about to say something, but he was interrupted by the doctor coming into the room.
“Remus? Can you, um-?”
“Yeah, I'll be back later.” He said, getting up from the chair that was pulled closer to the bed. He left the room, going to the waiting area to get some tea for himself.
The doctor and the other one, Sirius, didn't remember her name, but they asked a lot of questions. About his history, what had been happening lately, his relationships, family things, just about every single thing there was to ask about.
He didn't really feel like talking, not just about this, but he just didn't want to talk. He felt exhausted for some reason, even though he had just woken up. He just wanted to sleep, and be alone, and preferably go home.
But he wouldn't be able to go home, not at least for a few days. That's what they said, at least.
“We need to keep an eye on your wounds for any infections.”
“We're afraid for your own safety as well as others around you, so therefore we'd like to keep you here at least for a few days or until you get more stable.”
He agreed with them, kind of. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew it would help, and be better than going home right now. But then there was a part of him that wanted to argue and say that he was fine. That he didn't actually mean for this to happen, which was partly true. He meant to end up somewhere entirely different than in this bed, but he did mean to do it, so he couldn't say he didn't.
He did feel guilty, but he wasn't even sure for what. He felt angry, too, more at himself than at anyone else. Angry and disappointed that he couldn't even do this properly.
It felt like his mind was running, but at a super slow speed. It felt like there was no way to let them out, all words seemed too dull to describe the bad he was feeling, and he felt like he couldn't even cry, kind of like he wasn't allowed to.
They left after a while and Remus came back, he sat down on the edge of the bed, Sirius looked up at him, asking for his hand, which Remus gladly gave. “I don't want to talk.”
“We don't have to.” He said softly, and Sirius nodded.
“I have to be here for a few days at least.” He said, and Remus nodded. “And you have to go home.”
“Not today, I don't.” He said. “Unless you want me to.”
“I don't.” He had tears in his eyes now. “I'm scared, rem.” He whispered, barely audible.
“What are you scared of, baby?” He asked, caressing his cheek, catching the few tears that fell down with his thumb.
“I-i don't know.”
“That's okay.” Remus whispered. “I promise, love.”
Sirius let out a cry at that, tears starting to spill out of his eyes. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't be, nothing to be sorry for.” Sirius wiped his eyes, but the tears wouldn't stop. “I love you, Sirius.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead, before wiping away the tears himself.
“L-love you too.”
– – –
The next day, Remus left to go home, he didn't really want to, but he had to take care of Harry as his mum had other things to attend to for the next few days. But first he'd have to clean in their flat before he could go pick the boy up.
When he was done, he drove to his mother's house. “Where's padfoot?” Harry asked, once he had said goodbye to Hope and was buckled into his car seat.
“Did- did grandma tell you anything about what's been going on?” He glanced at the boy from his rearview mirror, seeing him shake his head.
“Jus' said that, only you pick me up.” Harry said, and Remus nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “That you'd tell me something.”
“We'll have a little chat when we get home, okay, haz?” He nodded, looking out of the window. “How was your sleepover, did you have fun with grandma?”
“Mm had fun, we- we baked cookies and I got ice cream when we watched a movie.” Harry explained excitedly. “But didn't have froggie, couldn't sleep. He's home?”
“Yeah, love. He's home, you'll get him as soon as we get there, okay?” Harry nodded. “Did you go to grandma when you couldn't sleep?” He asked, wanting to make sure he wasn't alone, because Harry sometimes did that, not wanting to tell someone when he was upset or couldn't sleep or was feeling unwell, and it didn't really matter who it was, he just was like that sometimes.
“Mhm. Got snuggles.”
“That's good, baby.” He said with a little laugh, before fully focusing back on the road. When they got there, Harry went straight to his room, going to get the frog stuffed animal, before following Remus to the living room.
“Come sit with me.” He said, patting the place next to him on the sofa, and Harry climbed up, sitting down next to Remus. “Padfoot is in the hospital because he isn't feeling so well right now. But he's getting help there.”
Harry nodded, with tears in his eyes, and Remus felt so bad for ruining his happy mood, but he needed to be told. He didn't want harry to be confused by Sirius not being there and if he wasn't explained, Remus knew his mind would come up with a hundred different explanations as to why Sirius “left them” because that would probably be how the boy would see it.
“What happened?” He asked timidly, glancing up at Remus, before looking down at his stuffed animal, playing with its short fur.
“Padfoot has been feeling really sad lately, and hurt himself, and now he has to get a bit of care in the hospital.” He explained, trying his best to find the right Words, after about a hundred google searches he made on how to approach the situation. “You know, you have bad days sometimes, don't you? Like you might feel sad, or angry, guilty, disappointed at something or someone.” Harry nodded, looking back up to Remus.
“Well sometimes grown-ups get bad days too, and sometimes they don't end. They just feel those things for many days or even months.” He wasn't sure if he was using the right words or using a language that was age appropriate for harry. He just hoped he was doing at least something right. “And when that happens, they might have to take medicine to help, or go speak with someone. Quite like you talk with me and padfoot when you're feeling bad.”
“Okay.”
“Haz, I want you to know that it's no one's fault, not yours, not moony's or padfoot's, okay? It's no one's fault because when those things happen you can't really control it.” Harry nodded again. “It's a bit hard to understand, isn't it? But that's okay, you can ask as many questions as you want, or not ask them at all. It's okay.”
“Okay, moony.”
“How are you feeling, it can be a bit hard to talk about, you don't have to if you don't want to, or you can tell me or draw if you don't know, whatever you want, okay, baby?” Harry nodded, looking back down. “Do you have any questions?”
“ 's padfoot coming back?”
“He is, but we can't be sure when, just yet. But he'll come back home, love.” Harry crawled into Remus lap, resting his head against Remus' chest, who wrapped his arms around the boy. “We can probably go see him tomorrow, would that be nice?”
“Mhm.” He whispered, rubbing his eyes, and Remus gently took his hands away before wiping away the tears that had started falling. “It's scary.”
“I know, it is a bit scary. But it's okay to be scared or sad, or even angry, it's all okay. What're you scared about?” Harry just shrugged, leaning more against him, hiding his face into Remus' chest. “That's okay, Haz.” He whispered softly, kissing his head, as Harry continued to cry.
After a while, Harry looked up at Remus, rubbing his eyes for a moment. “I wanna make a picture for padfoot.”
“Okay, baby, let's go to your room then.” He smiled slightly and Harry nodded, getting up and pulling Remus with him to his room.
– – –
The next day, Remus made sure they could actually go see him, and Sirius had said that it's okay and that he wanted to see harry. When they got to the hospital parking lot and out of their car, Harry just looked at the big building, turning to Remus and raising his arms up, asking to be picked up.
Remus did. “Aw, baby. It's a bit overwhelming, isn't it?” Harry nodded, slightly. “That's okay, I know it looks really big, but I promise I know where we gotta go, and we'll see padfoot in no time.”
“Okay.”
“Ready to go?” Harry nodded, leaning against Remus' shoulder. They made their way inside, and up to the room Sirius was staying in.
“Wanna knock on the door?” Harry nodded, quietly knocking on the door before Remus opened it. “Gonna set you down now, okay?” He whispered, setting harry down on the floor once he nodded. “Hi, love.” He said, closing the door behind him.
“Hi, rem.” Sirius looked up slightly, giving him a small smile.
“Padfoot.” Harry said, smiling and running over to the bed he was sitting in once he had looked around the unfamiliar room for a bit. Remus walked over too, lifting the boy up on the bed, before sitting down on the edge of it. “I missed you.” He said, throwing his arms around Sirius' neck.
“I missed you too, pup. So much.” Sirius smiled for real now, as he hugged Harry back, and Remus could see a tear drip down, but it was quickly wiped away before Harry could see.
“Made you a picture.” He said, looking at Remus who was holding his back bag, where the drawing was. Remus dug it out and gave Harry the picture, who gave it to Sirius.
“Thank you, I love it, Haz, it's really pretty.” Harry smiled timidly, as Sirius set the picture down on the small table next to his bed. Then he just leaned against Sirius' who wrapped his arms around the boy, kissing his head.
“I have to stay here for a bit still.” Sirius said, looking at Remus, running his hand through Harry's hair at the same time. “T-they're still worried.”
“There's no rush, baby. You're healing, it takes a bit of time.” Sirius nodded. “What happens after they discharge you?”
“I get to go home, but I have to start seeing a therapist or something, I don't know yet. And they're going to describe me some new meds. You know, so I can't-”
“I know, love.” He smiled, offering his hand for Sirius to take, who took it, a small smile coming to his lips for a moment, but it faded quickly.
“Padfoot?” Harry asked, looking up. “Love you.”
“I love you too, cub. So, so much.”
Before they had to leave, Harry stopped them at the door, looking at Remus and asking for his back bag. When he got it he dug out the frog stuffie that he was adamant of packing with them, but refused to say why he needed to have it with him. He walked back over to the bed, giving the frog to Sirius. “ 's for you.”
“Thank you baby, but you don't have to give froggie to me, I'm sure you need it much more."
Harry shook his head. “Want to. You need him.” He explained, and Sirius nodded, taking the stuffie. “Helps.” He whispered, looking up at Sirius.
“Oh haz.” He whispered, blinking away the tears, before giving a hug to the boy over the edge of the bed. “thank you, really love it. You'll get him right back, though, when I come home, okay?”
“Okay.”
AN: I hope you like it
Second part of this
I'm sorry for all the inaccuracies there probably are. But it's a work of fiction after all, so does it matter that much? Well anyway I tried to do research and read a lot on the subject, buy still I'm sorry if something doesn't make sense or is just wrong.
I don't know if I have much time to write next month as I have work and then I'm starting in a new school in August, but I'll try to get something written at least once a month :)
Anyway, see you
<3
#sirius black#remus lupin#sirius orion black#remus john lupin#remus x sirius#sirius x remus#wolfstar#wolfstar raising harry#wolfstar raises harry#baby harry potter#fluff?#wolfstar angst#angst#fluff and angst#tw sui implied
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
A New Sun: Chapter 4 - Scars
Note: Thank you all so much for the love and support!!! I wish you all a Happy New Year!
Series Masterlist
Chapter 3, Chapter 5
Pairing: Lo'ak x female reader
Please comment, like and share
Isabella was never the girl to curse or wished for something bad to happen to others... but at this moment, she cursed the Na'vies in her heart while been kept inside a tent.
Her hands were tied together and she would glare at any Na'vi that came to the tent. And she did so with Lo'ak when he approached later on, and sat inside the tent with a bowl.
"Thought you would be hungry," he said, and for the first time she could hear in his voice that he was a little nervous.
Isabella glared at him and when he placed the bowl near her, she turned her body completely away from him, clearly showing her anger and annoyance by facing away from him.
She was giving him the silent treatment.
Lo'ak sighed, nodding, it wasn't like he expected her to be happy to see him like she did earlier.
"Look, I... I'm sorry that this is happening. My father will let you out of here in a few hours."
Isabella scoffed but didn't turn to him.
Lo'ak looked down and took the bowl before leaving her alone. Isabella turned to watch him leave with a glare and turned her attention to her tied hands.
I definitely prefer been grounded for life than come back here, Isabella thought in anger, I can't believe I followed him, what the hell was I thinking?!
She thought of her mother already out there searching for her with Daniel and others. Isabella knew she would search the entire forest if she had to. She had to get out of there and go back before it was getting dark.
Isabella looked to the entrance of the tent.
Jake Sully watched Lo'ak approaching with a frown. "What is it?" Neytiri asked.
"That wasn't a necessary call," Lo'ak said.
"Lo'ak--" his mother started.
"No, that was not what I expected to happen," Lo'ak said, "I didn't tell you about her just so you can tie her up and keep her as a hostage. She's not like them."
"We'll let her go soon," Jake assured him.
"When is soon?" Lo'ak asked, "Because she has a mother, and she is the leader of the Sky People." He looked between his parents and they avoided his look. Lo'ak let out a breath. "You know already?"
"When she said her last name," Jake said.
"So you now using her to get to her mother," Lo'ak said with a nod, anger clearly on his face, "You most likely going to get her killed."
"Lo'ak, enough," Neytiri warned.
"Look, I don't like this anymore than you do," Jake told his son, "No harm will come to her, alright? She is safe here than out there. We'll give her back after we'll send her mother the message."
"They won't leave," Lo'ak said, "It won't work." With that said, he walked past them with disappointment.
-------
The day soon turned to night.
Lo'ak was looking now and then to the tent Isabella was in, and his siblings had noticed. "Has she eaten anything?" Kiri asked.
"No," Lo'ak answered as he shook his head, "I mean, I tried to give her but she turns her back on me."
"Maybe let me try," Spider told them, "I mean hey I'm a human. I could try to talk to her and get her to eat."
"I think Spider should have a go," Neteyam agreed.
Lo'ak let out a breath and nodded. They watched Spider walking toward the tent, and nodded to the two Na'vies that were watching in the front before stepping in.
But then a few seconds after he quickly got out and looked at the siblings, "She's not here!"
Jake quickly rushed into the tent with Spider to see the tent was empty. Jake let out a sigh of annoyance before stepping outside, "Find the Sky girl, bring her back alive!" he called to his people.
The men all started to ran into the forest, and Kiri noticed Lo'ak had disappeared to look for the girl before she could get hurt. "Lo'ak!"
Isabella was running with her hands still tied, panting, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered under her breath.
Isabella slowed to a stop and tired to control her breathing. She looked around, where the hell do I go now?! she thought to herself, Fuck!
Isabella stepped closer to one of the trees and started to rub the rope to get it off. "Come on, come on," she muttered.
A twig snapped, making Isabella startle and look around quickly before she turned back to get the rope off of her hands. She slowed down when she heard growling, and they were familiar to her.
The noise came behind her and she slowly turned around to see two animals of the same species approaching her.
The same specie that tried to attack her until Lo'ak saved her.
Isabella looked around for something to defend herself but with her hands still tied--
Another one of them jumped from behind her and scratched her on the back, making her cry in pain as she fell on the ground. An arrow flew by and hit one of them.
The two of them ran away as some of the Na'vies ran closer, shouting.
Isabella groaned in pain as she tried to reach and touch her back but she couldn't. Lo'ak ran closer and kneeled in front of her, "Isabella."
Isabella's teary eyes turned to Lo'ak as he quickly cut the rope off of her hands. He looked at her back, "Norm!"
Isabella breathed heavily and cried in pain as he back was touched. "Don't touch her back, wait!" someone called and Isabella could see a Na'vi running closer and kneeling beside him, "You hurting her more."
He pulled his large vest off of him and placed it gently on her back as Isabella closed her eyes, fading into darkness.
-------
Isabella slowly opened her eyes, her vision was blurry for a moment so she closed her eyes for a few seconds and then opened them.
Slowly, her vision regained and she faced a man's back sitting in front of her, on a computer. Isabella frowned, realizing she was lying on her front. She pushed herself up, hissing in pain and looked down at herself to see she had a huge t-shirt on instead of her tank top.
Her hissing got the man's attention, and he turned to her. "Oh, hey," he said kindly and got up, "Easy, easy." He helped her turn to her back and sit up. He moved the pillow up so she could rest her back on it.
Isabella looked at him in suspicion, recognizing his voice, and let him help her sit comfortably. "Where am I?" she asked quietly.
"Uh, you're at the High Camp," he said, "I'm Dr. Norm Spellman. Me and my colleague treated your Viperwolf scratch on your back."
"The what?" she asked quietly.
"It's those thing that attacked you," Norm explained, "It's call Viperwolf. You should feel better soon."
"How long was I out?" Isabella asked as she looked at him.
"Three days," Norm answered hesitantly.
"Three days?" Isabella repeated.
Norm nodded, "Uh, the scratch will leave a scar... but other than that, you will be able to go back to do... whatever you want in a little more time."
Isabella looked over his shoulder to see Jake walking in with Lo'ak, and she immediately moved to leave, but hissed in pain. Norm turned to see what startled her to move and quickly stopped him and his son from stepping into the room, and looked up at him, "Uh, wow, Jake, now is really not a good time."
"I just came to see how she is," Jake said.
"A little in pain but other than that, she will survive," Norm said, "Unless you planning on tying her up again and torture her this time."
Jake looked at him with a frown, "Come on, man, you know I'll never do that."
Norm shrugged a little, "I don't know, you're the chief now... people can change. She needs to stay here, in this bed for a few more days. Then you can talk to her. But talk, not tying her up."
Jake gave a small nod and Norm closed the glass door. He looked down at his son who stared at Isabella.
Norm turned to the girl and walked closer, giving her a small smile, "Bought you some time for peace and quiet."
"Thanks," Isabella mumbled. "Why?"
Norm sighed, "Look, Jake is my friend, but sometimes he can be a pain in the ass. At least to me." Isabella scoffed, smirking a little. "But he also has a lot on his shoulders."
"My mother won't take our people and leave," Isabella said suddenly, "We can't go back to Earth."
Norm nodded a little and let out a breath, "Nothing will happen to you here. But, with your mother and the rest of the Sky People... I don't think the Na'vies will let all of them live."
"I figured that much," she muttered.
Norm tilted his head and turned to the computer before looking back at her, "Here's something I am dying to figure out, and I just can't... How can you breath without an oxygen mask?"
Isabella blinked and let out a breath, "You going to have to get me something to eat first."
Norm gave her a small smile but nodded a little, "Fair enough, I suppose." He turned to the computer, typing some keys. Isabella looked at the glass door to see Lo'ak was looking at her.
Her mother wanted war against the Na'vies, Isabella knew it since the moment they stepped on Pandora for the very first time. They lost people since the second day, and the Na'vies lost some too.
Isabella didn't want more death in her life.
She wanted to stop this.
Taglist:
@dioriez, @crookednighttragedy, @satsuri3su, @novalies, @ernernn, @lwesodra, @mara-brekker, @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth, @hellowibu, @mrsbrxkkxr, @emvebee, @esposadomd, @ihave500hubbiez
#avatar series#avatar#lo'ak x human reader#lo'ak x oc#lo'ak x reader#lo'ak sully#lo'ak imagine#lo'ak fic#neytiri imagine#neteyam imagine#jake sully imagine#kiri imagine#tuktirey sully
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
PERCY JACKSON AND THE TITAN'S CURSE: STARTERS
a collection of quotes, phrases, and sayings from the 2007 Rick Riordan novel, Percy Jackson and the Titan's Curse. change & alter as needed.
"She's right, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Do you have everything you need? Extra sweaters? You have my cell phone number?"
"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
"My name's [name]. I'm going to take you out of here, get you somewhere safe."
"You are wanted alive, if possible. Otherwise, you would already be dead."
"We don't have any family. [Name] and I... we've got no one but each other."
"You are in no condition to be hurling yourself off cliffs."
"Don't you get that she'll never love you back?"
"I feel a haiku coming on."
"I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees."
"You've already got [name] on your bad side. You need another immortal enemy?"
"Smashing it would be good."
"Let's go see if we boiled anyone important, shall we?"
"I apologized for the hole in his pants, but he still sent me packing."
"Do we get to kill the other team?"
"[Name], with all due respect, whose side are you on?"
"He tends to eat household objects whenever he gets upset."
"Your time will come. I'm convinced of that. There's no need to rush."
"[Name], as much as I want you to come home, as much as I want you to be safe, I want you to understand something. You need to do whatever you think you have to."
"I know one thing about you, [name]. Your heart is always in the right place. Listen to it."
"I'm telling you that I'll support you, even if what you decide to do is dangerous."
"Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"
"The prophecy says at least two of you will die. Perhaps I'll get lucky, and you'll be one of them."
"You know, you're never completely without friends."
"Do me a favor. Get out of my car."
"You might as well ask an artist to explain his art, or ask a poet to explain his poem. It defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear through the search."
"So what's the story with you and [name]?"
"I hate this language. It changes too often."
"Of course I'd like to take your head for a trophy, but someone wants to see you. And I never behead my enemies in front of a lady."
"Oh, you even dream about her! That's so cute!"
"You're so cute! I wish all my daughters could break the heart of a boy as nice as you."
"You think we're going to get attacked by killer refrigerators?"
"I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a thief."
"If anything happens, give that to [name]. Tell him... tell him I'm sorry."
"There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it."
"Do you always kill people when they blow their nose?"
"How did you get that sword past security?"
"Why didn't it hurt me? I mean, not that I'm complaining."
"It's been nice adventuring with you guys."
"Oh, yeah, you look completely inconspicuous now."
"Um, maybe we could avoid talking about entrails, too."
"I won't leave you guys. We fight together."
"Long Island. It's this island. And it's... long."
"Tell [name]... tell her she still has a home here, will you? Remind her of that."
"It can be like old times -- the three of us, together, fighting for a better world."
"I did the stupidest thing in my life... which is saying a lot."
"You are brave beyond measure, my girl. You will do what is right."
"Please remember you always have a home with us. We will keep you safe."
"Wise counsel is not always popular, but I spoke the truth."
"I think I owe you a dance."
"Go away! I hate you! I wish you were dead!"
"Why are you saying that?! You want to be responsible for the whole world?!"
#rp meme#roleplay meme#rp starters#roleplay starters#dialogue prompts#rp prompts#roleplay prompts#rp memes#roleplay memes#sentence prompts#sentence memes#sentence starters
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
The man I am
Part 1
Joel Miller x Female Reader
Summary: Pre outbreak Joel and Tommy, move to a small town in Canada. After Joel's daughter Sarah dies from a tragic accident. Joel meets the reader and falls in love. She helps him move on from his grief. And he starts a new life with the reader.
Notes
◇ There is an age gap between the reader and Joel, the reader is 19 and Joel is 35.
◇ There will be an outbreak in this story but first I'll start pre-outbreak. Tess will also come in later in the story.
◇ HI, this is my first Joel fanfic. I feel like this will be bad, but I'm going to try to write this anyway. I had a dream about it so I kinda want to make it true lol. I'm also Canadian so that's why they are in Canada lol. But they will make their way back to the USA.
"Sarah, where are you?" I found myself back in my old house.
Sarah was giggling as she hid behind the curtains, and I could hear her tiny breaths as she tried to keep quiet.
"Are you here?" I asked looking behind the couch as I searched the room, pretending not to see her, but I knew exactly where she was hiding. Suddenly, Sarah jumped out from behind the curtains and yelled, "Boo!"
I jumped "Oh my you scared me!" I pretend to look terrified. "I'm sorry daddy!" She giggles. I laughed and scooped her up in my arms, spinning her around in the air. Her laughter filled the air I felt a deep sense of happiness and contentment. I had forgotten what it felt like to be so carefree and happy. I wanted the moment to last forever.
But then, everything starts to take a dark turn. Suddenly, there is blood everywhere I hear the sound of bullets whizzing past my head, and I knew I had to get my daughter to safety. But as I look down Sarah is laying in my arms dead. Her once happy eyes were full of life and were no longer. The emptiness was left in its place. I cry for help but there is no one just her and I.
"Joel."
"Joel?"
"Joel!"
I wake up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding in my chest.
"You ok there? you dozed off, you were mumbling in your sleep." Tommy says as he pulls the truck over.
"I'm... I'm... OK." I say turning my head toward my brother. I start to feel a deep sadness wash over me as I remembered that Sarah was gone.
"Well, we are here brother, ready to start new beginnings," Tommy announced as put pats my arm. "Yeah," I mumble as I look out the window. Wishing I could go back to that moment in my dream where I was playing with Sarah and stay there forever, but I knew that it was just a dream and that I had to face the reality of the world I was living in now.
I had lost everything that mattered to me. My daughter Sarah had been taken from me in a tragic accident, and I had been left with nothing but grief and guilt. I became a mass, a monster. All the darkness was melting off me. I didn't work, I didn't eat, I didn't sleep. All I did was drink, fight, and fuck to get all my aggression out. But one day I woke up and decided I couldn't take it anymore and it would be my last day on this unfair earth. That's what I thought at least but that plan didn't work out so here I am. Still alive in this small town in God knows where Canada.
Tommy met a girl, Maria. He thought it would be a good idea to move to where she was living and he took me with him. He said he had a good feeling that I would find something worth living for again. I can't trust that would happen I'm just buying time for when the time comes for me to try again to be with my daughter once more.
"You are here finally!" A woman's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I see Maria run and jump in Tommy's arms.
"It was a long drive." Tommy laughs as he pulls back from the hug. Maria turns to me and extends her hand out for me to shake. "Joel it's finally nice to meet you in person." I shake her hand. "Likewise."
"Well let me show you guys your new home." She turns and smiles back at Tommy. We walk to this historic-looking building. Maria tells us her family owns the little apartment building it's been in her family for many years. "There are 10 complexes and everyone is very friendly and respectful. It's an amazing space for two people." She shows us around the home.
It was beautiful, with high ceilings and large windows that let in the sunlight. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living just enough space for the two of us. I could see Tommy was also amazed by the architecture and the history of the building.
"This is perfect trust me and Joel have lived in worse places." He says hugging her once more.
"Well, it's good for the time being after you meet my family and the house gets done being built I can steal you away." She kisses him.
And I take that as my cue to leave. "I'm going to take a look around town." I excuse myself to let them have some alone time. There is also a part of me that is stinging seeing them happy. As happy as I am for my brother I can't help but think back to my grief.
I walk out and I spot a dinner down the street I decided I could go for a cup of coffee. As I'm walking towards the dinner I feel myself accidentally bump into someone I quickly reach out to grab the much smaller person in front of me.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry I wasn't paying attention!" A female's voice rings out. "It's fine, are you ok are you hurt?" I ask as our eyes meet. "Not hurt I'm sorry again it was my fault I'm too clumsy." She says. But I could not focus. I feel like all the air left my body the minute I looked into her eyes. I was struck by her beauty and her warm smile.
Part 2
#fanfiction#fanfic#the last of us#joel miller#tommy miller#maria miller#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#sarah miller#joel x sarah#joel x you#joel x tess#the last of us show#pedro pascal#tess servopoulos#tess x joel
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
Summary: Liam and Deigh survived, but only just. So close to meeting Malek, trepidatious feelings begin to bloom from all sides of the trio.
AN: SFW, a little angsty, and a quick write with no editing. Enjoy.
Read on Ao3
Violet
Someone had driven nails into her skull while she was sleeping. That, or she just had the worst fucking headache of her life. Fighting past that pain, she began assessing the deep ache in her muscles, every one from head to toe. All pain aside, it was the bone-deep exhaustion that kept her from trying to open her eyes and process her surroundings. Unfortunitely, all that did was clear sleep's fog from her mind, making room for her recent memories to surface.
Venin.
Wyvern.
Liam.
"Liam."
"Alive. Just barely." A warm hand wrapped around hers. Xaden. "He's in the next room. He made it, Vi."
At that she forced her eyes open, taking in the set of his mouth, his furrowed brow, and the soul-deep worry in his eyes. Eyes that had yielded so little in the time they'd known each other. She and Liam had started to change that, cracking his mask. "Liam's okay." She let out a heavy sob. "Deigh made it. Thank Dunne."
"It'll be a slow flight to Basgiath, but Malek hasn't claimed them yet."
The mention of flying had her reaching down her own bonds, searching for those two threads in her mental archives. "We are fine. There is no need for concern."
Still, Violet frowned. "Andarna?"
"She sleeps. And will continue to do so, entering her Dreamless Sleep. She has reached adolescence," he almost grumbled. "You should be in no hurry for her to wake, Silver One. Focus on your partners. And eat something, or I'll tell Sgaeyl's human to make you."
She huffed, but didn't protest, knowing her stomach was on the verge of announcing it's empty state regardless. Besides, she had other bones to pick at the moment. "How long has this been going on?"
Xaden swallowed. Long before they met, then. Still, his secrecy stung. "I told you I had secrets. If I had said something..." Not knowing what Dain had read beyond Athebyne, the logical side of her understood. Emotions shouldn't have a place in this discussion—No. They had moved past the no emotions and feelings stage out on the parapet. She had every right to be hurt by this. "It's clear the second and third years know what you're doing. Liam?"
She saw it. The flicker of hesitation. The urge to cover his brother's mistakes. "Not everything."
Violet swallowed. "I'm going to see him."
"Violet."
"Believe me, Xaden, this conversation is far from over. But I need space. And I need to see he's still breathing."
Forcing her legs under her, she trudged out to the hall, pushing open the cracked door beside hers—Xaden's she supposed. Bodhi's head jerked up from the book resting in his lap. "Well, welcome back." His lips tugged into something that could almost be called a smirk. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like death warmed over, mended or not."
"Gee, you must get all the ladies with lines like that. I just need a shower, but..." He nodded, face solemn once more. "Has he woken up yet?"
"Twice, though not for long. The toll on his dragon was heavy. In turn, Liam needs rest too. He'll come out of this just fine, Violet."
"Will he? Will any of us? Soleil won't just be a random name on the death role when we get back to the college, Bodhi." He flinched at that. "I'm sorry. That was cruel."
"It was honest. I'll leave you be."
The door snicked shut behind him, leaving Violet with only her own wild thoughts and Liam's breathing. Stepping forward, she let herself take in the color in his face. The exposed skin of his arms and face bare of any wounds. The rise and fall of his broad chest. Steady. Level. He was alive. "Thank Dunne," she repeated.
And with her relief another memory wriggled forward.
It's been. My honor. I love you, Violet. Another sob clogged her parched throat as she slumped into the chair beside the bed, still warm from Bodhi's natural body heat. People say crazy things on death's door. Had he even meant it? More than that, did she want him to? They're relationship had hardly begun, and now knowing he had hid things from her too. How was she meant to love two men she couldn't trust?
The fact remained, she did. Hurt as she was, part of her wanted—longed for a future with Xaden and Liam in it. If they lived, that is. She couldn't be sure she'd see her next birthday with Venin to worry about. Hell, she wasn't sure she'd see Xaden and Garrick graduate before they were killed without question by their own leadership. "Fuck," she hissed.
"Welcome to my world," Xaden said from behind her. The thud of his boots was near silent as he came to stand in front of her, offering a sturdy tray that held a bowl of stew, hot bread, and a glass of water. "You're no good to him wasting away."
"I told you I wanted space," she growled. "Here you are ten minutes later."
"I'll give you all the time you need. After that bowl of stew is in you." Huffing, she gulped down half of the cool water before taking the spoon and scooping up a slice of carrot and broth. "He said something to you before he passed out."
She took another bite, sighing as her headache already began to dull. Despite how open their relationship was among one another, saying those words to Xaden seemed a daunting task. He hadn't shown the slightest tension since their first night as a triad. Yet she hesitated. "He said he was honored to be my friend and shadow. And that he loved me."
"Meant. Every. Word." She jumped, stew sloshing onto the tray before she set it aside to scramble out of the chair and onto the bed. "Xaden can take me to the mat in a day or two if he's got a problem with it." If he had another quip for their wingleader, Violet quickly silenced it, throwing her leg over his waist to straddle him, claiming his mouth in a desperate kiss. She started to pull away when he flinched at her movement, but the pain had either faded, or Liam had deemed it worth suffering if it kept her mouth on his. "Vi," he breathed, flexing his hands around her waist.
"I am so fucking pissed at you both. But that can wait." Taking a deep, shuttering breath, she pressed her forehead to his. "I love you, Liam. As first my friend, now my partner. I love you."
He stroked his thumb along her bottom lip, a slow smile claiming his mouth. "Good."
Looking back to Xaden, she found only contentment in his eyes. They had many broken pieces to pick up, but they also had something precious. Something worth fighting for.
#fourth wing#alternate ending#violet sorrengail#liam mairi#xaden riorson#riorgail#violiaden#violet x liam x xaden#fanfiction#fourth wing fic#canon adjacent#throuple#angst#fluff
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
may i ask you for a fluff story with eddie? i feel very lonely and have cried my eyes out, because my exams drain me and i’m fully exhausted, i’m doing my best to not forget eating and staying hydrated. i have crippling anxiety disorder. i’m a girl with disability, so my spine hurts out of the pressure.
can you write some blurb or fluff about eddie taking care of me? <3 like making a cuppa of tea, hugging me, reassuring that he loves me and I will make it. i would be beyond thankful!!
Of course my love! I'm so sorry you're having a hard time right now. Know you are never alone ❤️ Thank you for letting me write this for you and for being patient while I figure out balancing requests and other things!
As soon as you stepped out of the science building and saw Eddie's rickety van illegally parked you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You'd been going nonstop for the past month. Between work, studying, and exams you barely had time to eat, and you definitely didn't find time to sleep.
Eddie was growing concerned. You fell asleep on the couch last night, your astronomy textbook in your lap long forgotten. From how clean the kitchen was he knew you didn't eat the dinner (spaghetti and hotdogs, a Munson family delicacy) he prepared. Back in high school, it wasn't unusual for you forget to take care of yourself during finals. When Eddie wasn't around, your friends were there to give you the support you needed.
Now that you and Eddie were on your own, you working part time while going to college and Eddie working at the hottest record store in the city, he took caring for you very seriously. He felt he owed it to you. His sacrificing himself to save you and Dustin was the reason you went back to the trailer. You fought a hoard of demobats with a can of Steve's Farrah Fawcett hairspray and a lighter. In exchange one had grabbed you by the shoulders with it's talons, carrying you to the Creel House, before dropping you from the sky when El defeated Vecna.
While Nancy put her first aid skills to use with Eddie, Steve searched for you in the woods of Upside Down Hawkins. He found you barely alive, carrying you to the gate. You and Eddie went through surgery and rehab together. While Eddie's wounds had healed, you were having a harder time. The drop broke your back, it almost killed you. After your initial rehab, your doctor suggested another surgery but you decided against it. You wanted to feel normal again, or as much as you could.
You trudged toward Eddie's van. Black Sabbath blasting from the speakers. Eddie was playing air guitar during the solo, a head of flying curls all over the place. He jumped when he heard the slam of the door. Eddie turned down the volume of the music.
"Jesus Christ! Why didn't you tell me you were here. I could've helped you get in," he says running a hand through his mop.
"Didn't want to disturb," you respond with a tight smile.
"You'd never disturb me, my little star."
His little star. You beamed on the inside. Eddie had been calling you that since you finally declared astronomy, "Astrology?! My girl's going to find zodiac signs and shit. I'm so proud of you, baby!" as a major. You didn't have the heart to correct him.
Eddie put the van in drive and pulled off toward your shared apartment. The breeze from the open window felt nice on your hot skin. It was the first time in what felt like weeks you'd felt air that wasn't from an appliance.
Parking the van in Eddie's usual spot and walking up the stairs was a blur. Eddie carried your backpack while guiding you to the apartment. Once inside you made a beeline for the couch. You let out a breath when the plushy cushion met your back. A housewarming gift from Joyce and Hopper.
Eddie tossed his leather jacket next to you before sitting down on the coffee table in front of you. He took off your shoes and socks. Picking the lint from your socks off your toes he started to massage your feet. "When did you get a foot fetish, Munson?" you asked sleepily.
"The first time I saw your painted toes in sand on that trip to the beach."
Eddie brings your toes to his mouth. You playfully kick at him and he laughs before trying to tickle you. A serious look comes across his face. "I wanted to talk to you."
"Oh, here comes the speech." He doesn't waver. "Oh. You really mean talk."
He nods. "You worry me, sweetheart. I know--" he pauses, "I know it's coming up on the two year anniversary. You don't have to rely on yourself. I can handle whatever you throw at me."
"Eddie--"
"Have you had a meal today? You haven't come to bed in days. I refuse to let you wither away. It's time for a change. Starting now."
"Now?" you question. He offers a hand to you and you take it, you always would. He leads you to the bathroom. A light fragrance takes you by surprise. Is that...lavender?
Eddie turns the lights on and your eyes nearly pop out your head. The bathroom is decorated with candles, the bath full with bubbles. "Eddie! You could've burned the building down leaving these candles up!"
"I know, that's why I called reinforcements. The gang came by to help set this up. The candles aren't even the best part."
He sits on the edge of the tub and turns it on. "We have jets now! You can have a full Swedish massage right at home." he giggles.
"What--How can we afford this?" you ask.
"Hopper knows a guy who works in plumbing. Gave him the family and friends discount. Just had to install it myself, and by myself I mean Wayne and Hopper did. I supplied the lemonade."
Tears pool at your eyes. No one except your family had ever done anything like this for you. "You did this for me?"
"For us, sweetheart. I want to be with you forever, for however long you'll have me." Eddie touches your forehead to yours. His scent was like coming home. Old Spice and Irish Spring.
"I love you Eddie Munson," you say with a sigh.
"I love you too, future Mrs. Munson."
Your feet feel wet. You look toward the tub seeing the water overflowing. "Ed! You didn't turn the water off!"
He rushes to the tub, slipping on the floor mat and falling right on his ass. "Maybe we can start relaxing tomorrow."
#eddie munson/reader#eddie munson x female reader#fem reader#sav’s mailroom#sav's anons#eddie munson fem!reader#rx fluff#munsonology prescriptions
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
VII.
Daryl had left before you had gotten up the next morning. Not wanting to ask to borrow a horse before leaving. The past two nights had been haunting him at all hours. His desire to spend as much time with you as possible was misguided in his eyes. All of his time should be spent trying to find Sophia, not wanting you despite the fact that you would never want him. He had realized that last night when he had thought about you too much.
He hadn’t really meant to start thinking in that direction, but once one thought was there, he couldn't stop them. He had thought about kissing you, but more than that, he had thought about how he wanted you. In his mind he had blamed that stupid impractical dress, he had only seen you wearing it for a short time but his mind was plagued by thoughts of you in the dress as well as thoughts of you outside of it.
When he woke up the next morning, it was obvious he had continued to think about you while he slept. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. The guilt that he felt surrounding the entire situation was eating him up alive. What he didn't know was that you felt the same way, unable to stop thinking about him. The rational part of your brain was convinced that he would never see you that way. You were just some random woman that he had gotten stuck with after the world ended.
On the other hand you had taken note of everything he had done around you. The way he pushed most of the group away and had let you sit with him at night by his fire. Yesterday when he had stared at you on top of the RV before rushing off. But none of this really counted towards anything. He had not directly made anything clear but you assume that he would never do anything else unless you initiated it.
As the day went on you became more and more concerned about Daryl. You had initially gone to Rick and asked him. To which he told you he was off by himself looking for Sophia. A few hours later after hearing nothing from Daryl you decided to go out and look for him. As you gather your supplies to set off for him you can feel yourself being watched. When you turn around you make eye contact with Jesse, who looks disappointed.
“I have to find him.” you tell him.
“You are not the only person who matters in this situation.” he says to you.
“It's not about me. It's about him. He’s been searching for Sophia for days and not hearing from him for this long isn’t like him.” you tell him.
“Y/N don’t try to lie about this. It's obvious how you feel about him.” he says, which takes you aback.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” you tell him faking ignorance about the situation, but you know he can see past it. You turn back and continue packing your supplies.
“You are the only person she has left.”
You know who he is talking about right away, Adi. It’s true, you know it. It makes you stop for a second and you know he is right.
“You're right.” you tell him.
“I usually am.” he tells you.
“You most definitely are not.” you tell him laughing slightly before the moment is ruined by a single gunshot from somewhere on the farm.
You both take off towards the noise, first taking note that both of the girls are safe from danger still under the tree they were playing at. When you finally reach the source of the noise you see Daryl looking nearly dead which springs you into action rushing over to the wounded man you instruct Rick to keep pressure on his wounds and get him to Hershel as fast as they can.
You see Andrea holding a gun looking guilty. You put it together with not much thought. Andrea had just shot Daryl when he was returning from his search.
“Andrea what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” you yell at her, “Are you that fucking stupid that you shoot someone comeing back to camp after you know someone is out there? Before getting the confirmation that it is a walker you just decide to shoot? It was one goddamn person you stupid motherfucker.”
“It’s not my fault he was disgusting looking and limping.” she says defending herself.
You curl your fist and punch her. The initial shock of being punched knocks her to the ground. Honestly it probably hurt you way more than it hurt her but it got your point across. You run up to the farm hour prepared to help in any way possible.
The next few hours are a blur of blood and bandages. You and Hershel are able to slowly work on him, patching up all his wounds and checking him over for any more permanent damage. Hershel leaves after finishing up, you decide to take wet rags and clean the dirt off his skin. Allowing yourself to view any more minor damage that he had sustained.
You find a large bruise on the side of his stomach. While cleaning him up you notice the scars that reside on his back. You do your best to ignore it even though it hurts your chest. After finishing up cleaning him you sit back in the chair that is next to his bed. You watch his chest slowly rise and fall, almost scared to look away as if it would stop. So you remained watching his chest until you dozed off.
When Daryl woke up he had a headache. He assumed it was from getting shot on the side of his head. The next thing he noticed was you. Sleeping next to the bed in a chair, your head leaning into your palm. You had blood staining your hands, his blood, he realizes. You had at the least cared for him while he was unconscious. He then noticed his lack of shirt. He pulled the covers up covering his chest.
When he hears a few knocks from the door he sees Carol. She is carrying two plates of food, one for him and one for you. They talk for a minute about his discovery in the woods.
“You know she stayed here helping Hershel the entire time.” Carol told him, “She cleaned you.”
Daryl hadn't noticed that yet. He didn’t have much dirt or blood left on him. Oh god, he thought, this is just getting worse. You caring for him was not helping him bury all the emotions he held for you. The whole point of leaving so early this morning was to put space between the two of you and here you were taking care of him when he did some stupid shit.
Rick came in next, he spoke with him about where he had found Sophia’s doll. He couldn’t help but notice Rick's questioning eyes going between the two of you. He didn’t say anything about it, but he didn’t have to. Daryl could see what he was thinking in his head.
Soon after Rick left you woke up from your sleep. You saw Daryl awake and felt relief that he was okay. He was looking at you when you opened your eyes. He passed you the plate that was sitting on the nightstand next to the bed.
“Thank you.” you told him.
“You stayed?” he asked you.
You knew what he meant. He was surprised when he had woken up, you assumed, when he saw you sitting here.
“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?” you asked him.
“You shouldn’ care about no redneck like me.” he says.
“Daryl, of course I care about you. I’ve cared about you since the CDC.” you tell him, remembering how you had both agreed that Jenner was suspicious.
“I care about you too.” he says quietly, nearly imperceptible.
“Then it’s agreed, we both care about each other.” you tell him.
“Thanks for this.” he says, gesturing to his wounds.
“Of course, puts all my college debt to use.” you say to him.
“I thought you were a teacher?” he says.
“I was an assistant at a preschool over summer, after school was done.” you tell him. “I also never really wanted to be a nurse. It was what my parents wanted for me but I never was too fond of the idea. What about you, what did you do?”
Honestly you had a few guesses for how Daryl Dixon made money, your top one being a mechanic. You had seen him working on his brother's bike time and time again, each time stopping to watch him. Once you had been caught by Maggie who had laughed at you for staring. But you couldn't help yourself, when he worked on the bike his arms were just gorgeous. Even after Maggie had caught you a few days ago you still couldn't break your stare any faster.
“Nuthin,” he says to you. With how he reacts you turn away from that subject in favor of discussing anything else.
“Okay, how about your favorite color?” you ask him.
“What?” he says, caught off guard by your question.
“What is your favorite color?”
“Uhh, green?” he says unsurely.
“Are you sure?” you ask him as you smile a bit.
“Mh, you?” he asks you.
“I would have to say, purple.” you tell him.
“I like purple,” he says.
“I like green too.” you tell him, which gets a smile from him.
“Carol said you cleaned me up.” he says, “Thanks.”
“Well can it old habits of taking care of people when they decide to roll around in the mud.” you tell him humorously, “Also I just wanted to make sure the dirt wasn't hidin’ anything important.”
The next day you wake up in pain, your back killing you and your head pounding. You missed your bed, your pillows and blankets, and your stuffed animals. While you didn't own a lot you missed your belongings. Most of all you missed music. It had been so long since you had listened to your favorite albums, most likely you never would again.
When you got up for the day though it instantly got better. Deciding to join Lori in completing chores you had walked over to her, to which she gave you two bowls of food and told you to go to Daryls tent. Most people had steered clear of Daryl as much as possible, they had decided that you would bring Daryl his food seeing as how he likes you the most.
There had only been one other visitor for him so far, Andrea. She had gone to his room in the house only to be told he had relocated outside. When she arrived at his tent she found him lying on the ground fidgeting with a bolt.
After apologizing for shooting him and giving him the book she had brought with her, she turned to leave only to be stopped by Daryl's voice.
“Who gave you that?” he asks her, with amusement.
“Ask your girlfriend,” she calls to him over her shoulder.
While walking towards Daryl's tent you see Andrea leaving from his camp. When you both get closer to one another you see just how much your fist affected her face. Her cheek is swollen where you had punched her. The bruise was also nasty looking, even though you wanted to feel sorry about it you couldn't because she had deserved it. You finish your walk and see Daryl laying on the ground of his tent.
“Brought you some food.” you tell him, handing it to him.
“Thanks.” he says before starting to eat. You were not really sure what to do, so you continued to stand. “You can sit down.”
“Okay.” you tell him, sitting down and starting to eat your food.
“Did you punch Andrea?” he asks you, you can hear the amusement of it in his voice.
“Yeah.” you tell him covering your face with your hands. You weren't embarrassed by the action you had taken but now sitting here with the person you had done it for you were. What surprised you was he started to laugh. Which caused you to start laughing as well with your face still in your hands.
“Why?” he says.
“I thought she killed you and even after I knew you were alive, I was just so angry.” you tell him.
“You punched her for me?” he says, you're pretty sure the question isn't directed at you but you answer it anyways.
“I'd do anything for you.” you honestly hadn't meant to say it, the meaning of it being too heavy to actually say but you did. As of yesterday you had assumed that Daryl felt the same way about you. But sitting here in his tent made you doubt, while you waited for him to say something.
“Hey we are going to practice shooting, thought you might want to come.” you heard Rick's voice come from outside of the tent.
“I’ll… uh see you later.” you tell him gathering your bowls before getting out of the tent. His response, or lack there-of, confused you. Yesterday when you had stayed up with him for so long just talking you were convinced that what you felt for him was reciprocated, but here you were second guessing yourself.
Daryl felt like an idiot. He was angry at himself for acting how he did. He was so convinced that what you had said last night didn't really mean anything. His hallucinations of Merel had really messed with him and he had woken up this morning almost convinced that last night had been a dream. As soon as you said those words though he had nearly short circuited. All of the work of him keeping his distance from you had gone down the drain.
Even hours after you had left he kept replaying the words over and over in his head. What he didn't know was that so were you. After arriving at the area that was designated for shooting you had shown Rick and Shane that you were more capable than they had originally thought. Seeing as how you didn’t need much practice they had sent you away to help anyone else who needed it, the person you had focused most on was Jesse though. He had no idea how to properly shoot a gun.
At first he had tried to insist that shooting with one hand was the correct way to shoot. After arguing with him you conceded telling him to shoot the bottle on the fence post. The recoil of the gun knocks him over when he fires and he falls on his ass.
“Do you see why when we shoot we use both hands?” you ask him condescending.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he tells you, but never seeing him shooting with one hand again means your teaching worked.
You worked with him for a while until the only thing off was his aim which wasn't something you could completely fix, him getting better is up to how much he practices now. Happy with your progress, you move on to a few more people. Each of them having their own challenges until you all are told by Rick that it's time to get back to the farm.
After being away for so long you had nearly forgotten what had happened right before you left but as soon as you approached the farm the embarrassing memories came back. It made you want to dig a hole and live in it, obviously not possible. So the next best thing is to ignore.
Feelings for Daryl? No, even though everytime you see him you get butterflies. Attracted to Daryl? You're out of your mind, even though you had caught yourself on multiple occasions looking at him from across the farm. Wanting to spend time with him all the time? Never, except for in the evenings when you waited for him to sit by his fire so you can join him, and in the middle of the day when you think of something funny to tell him, of course in the mornings too when you would wait to see if he had left already to find Sophia, and most of all at night when you were left alone with your thoughts. This is bad, you decided. Getting over him was out of the question, seeing as how your entire mind was filled with thoughts of him, you, you both together. Yeah definitely not.
You decided to steer clear of Daryl for a while, which lasted until Lori asked you to take dinner to him. You caved instantly, your desire to see him building more and more throughout the rest of the day. When you approached the tent and could see inside you found Daryl reading a book. It was an amusing sight to say the least. You hadn't given Daryl enough credit if he had the patience to read a book. He still hadn't noticed you so you cleared your throat.
“I brought food.” you tell him.
“ ‘m sorry.” he says quietly.
“What? Why are you sorry?” you ask him, you had decided to never bring it up again to spare yourself the embarrassment.
“For earlier. I aint good with things like this.” he told you while you join him inside his tent.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn't have said that, it was too much.” you tell him.
“It’s okay if ya didn’ mean it.” he tells you.
“Well I didn’t say that.” you say to him.
“So you do?”
“Hmm?”
“Ya did mean it?” he asks you.
“Of course I meant it, I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true.” you tell him.
Daryl was never really one for words, he had always thought actions spoke louder than words. The action he took next spoke the loudest. He leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. It was just for a split second before he pulled away from you. When he opened his eyes you could see him studying your face looking for any sign of disgust. He didn't find any but he was taken aback by you pressing your lips to his this time with an intensity he didn't have in the initial one.
The action took his breath away but made him want you even more. His hand found the back of your head and the other rested on your thigh. You brought your hand up to his cheek, both of you staying like this until you had to pull apart to breathe. When you open your eyes you see Daryl studying your face. You pressed forward again, going in to kiss him again. He meets you in the middle, his hand finding where it had been on the back of your head. That is when you are interrupted by Jesse calling for you. Getting closer to the tent with each step.
“I- i have to go.” you tell him, but not before he pulls you in yet again, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He presses forward anyways, stealing one final kiss before letting you go. When you climb out of the tent you see Jesse right away. Slowly walking towards the tent, he sees you and waves. You walk over to him and you both walk back to camp but not before you glance back at Daryl's tent and see him watching you walk away.
That night you can’t help yourself from imagining that your time in the tent had continued. You stare up at the top of the tent sweating from the heat of Georgia that your years living here couldn't have conditioned you for. The group had started talking about what you were going to do in the winter, seeing as how the temperatures were starting to drop. You couldn't help but feel as though they were making a bigger deal out of winter than you had initially thought. You had spent most of your life living in Michigan and nothing could compare to those winters. The months seem to drag on forever but you lived in Georgia now which had a much more temperate climate.
You decide to get up and go outside but not before grabbing your knife and a flashlight. The only other person who was up was Dale who was keeping a watchful eye on the property yet again. He notices you and waves, you return the gesture. The firepit was still smoldering to your enjoyment when you sit down. The air is cooler out here with nobody else near you. You hear footsteps coming up to you and when you look up it is the person who has been taking over all of your thoughts.
“Surprised to see you over here.” you tell him, smirking slightly.
“Came to view the real estate.” he tells you.
“You thinking of moving over here?” you ask him, which he makes a noise you take as an agreement. “There is space next to us if you want.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
When you wake up the next morning you are in a better mood than you had been in for a while. The weight of your feelings for Daryl finally getting off your mind and instead enjoying whatever time you spent with him. Your back didn't hurt like it had yesterday and your head felt normal.
Of course normal can only last so long, because when you get Jesse and the girls up for breakfast a very distressed looking Glenn is waiting to tell you all news.
“So, the barn is full of walkers.”
<Previous Part/Next Part>
Masterlist
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whumptober 2023, Day 7: "Can you hear me?"
fandom: criminal minds | characters: spencer reid (centric), emily prentiss, jennifer jareau, derek morgan, penelope garica | ship: past spencer reid/maeve donovan | trigger warnings: mentions of drugs/drug use, depression | content: post 8x12 'zugzwang,' spencer's isolation, team as a family | word count: 1k.
Spencer has this vivid memory from when he was eleven years old. All of his memories are vivid, to be fair, but this one stands out in particularly stark contrast to others. His mother has been suffering from a bad episode and hadn’t spoken to him for several days, no matter how hard he’d tried to get her attention. So he’d gone about his days as he always did: alone. One of the first lucid moves Diana had made all week was to come out into the kitchen as Spencer was pouring himself a bowl of cereal on Saturday morning. She sat down across from him, taking his hands in hers. He waited patiently for her to speak, eyes searching hers for reassurance she was alright. After a moment, she sighed.
“It’s so dark in here, Spencer,” was all she’d said, voice quivering. “It hurts.”
At the time, he hadn’t been sure what she’d meant. Throughout his life, there had been moments of darkness: his mother’s episodes that were growing in frequency, his father leaving, the way the kids at school - all so much older - treated him. However, it wasn’t until he was trapped in a shack in Georgia, the smell of burning fish and blood and sweat and fear and drugs, that he really thought he understood what his mother had meant when she referenced inner darkness.
And yet, if Spencer had the option of being back in that shack over being stuck in his house now, unable to move or eat or sleep or exist for paralyzing grief, he’d take the shack in a heartbeat. This pain, he’s sure, is what his mother had been referring to. He’s never hurt so badly in his life.
Maeve.
Even thinking her name makes him feel like he’s suffocating. Thinking about how he was too late. If he’d been quicker, smarter, more believable - she’d still be here. They’d be together. He’d be happy.
Instead, he’s alone. He’s dying. He clings to The Narrative of John Smith, switching between crying so hard he forgets how to breathe to being so numb he can’t feel a thing. He doesn’t know what day it is, what time it is, how long it’s been. He definitely ate something, but then he threw it up. His mouth tastes terrible and his lips are so chapped and dry they’re starting to bleed. The headache that started up the moment Maeve had been taken from him gets worse by the hour. Sleep isn’t even a relief because each time he closes his eyes, the sickening shot rings out and images of her body haunt him.
So he sits.
And hurts.
And hates it more than anything.
“Spence,” JJ’s voice is outside the door. She sounds far away, much further away than the one wall that’s between them. He heard her coming up the stairs, speaking in a low voice to Morgan. He’s sitting near the door. She knocks gently. “Spence, can you hear me?”
He can’t summon the energy to reply.
“Kid,” Morgan says, voice softer than he’s ever heard it. “Can you just - say something,” he begs. “Please. Just tell us you’re safe.”
Spencer exhales shakily and summons every inch of his being, raises a hand, and taps twice in quick succession.
“Thank you,” JJ says quietly, and after a moment, they leave. Spencer listens to their footsteps fade away and feels tears start to fall down his cheeks. Alone again.
After that, someone comes by everyday to check on him - to ask him for some sort of signal he’s alive. He knows they’re worried he’s overdosed or something, but frankly, he doesn’t even have the energy to go get any dilaudid, let alone take it - no matter how bad he wants some. Penelope always comes by, no matter what. She leaves food outside, and sometimes he gets it after she leaves if he’s feeling particularly brave. It all tastes like cardboard and he can never manage more than a few bites, but he does it - for them. For the others. He imagines the breaks between other people coming by are when they’re on cases. He wishes he could help. He wishes for the most gruesome, awful, horrible murders out there to be true, if it meant he could be there with his team and not feeling any semblance of the pain he’s drowning in right now.
He jumps, his phone buzzing him out of the stupor he’s in, moments after Penelope’s left another huge gift basket outside his doorway. He’s prepared to let it ring out, as he has spent the last however long doing, but something gets the better of him. Something feels… different. He sighs, gathers himself from where he sits by the door, and ambles slowly over to the couch, feeling every ache in his muscles tenfold.
‘Emily - work number’ is calling him.
Emily is calling him.
He considers not picking up for a moment, but curiosity gets the better of him. What if she’s in trouble? What if she needs him?
“Emily,” he says, voice sore and scratchy from lack of use.
“Spencer,” she breathes, voice soft. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“How - I - I mean-,” she stumbles, and Spencer braces himself for what’s coming. Someone told her what happened. He clenches his teeth and blinks back tears. “I’m so sorry,” she eventually settles on, and Spencer sighs shakily. He wants to tell her it doesn’t help, he wants to scream that no matter how many sorrys he gets, it won’t bring Maeve back. But taking in Emily’s voice stops him. He remembers going through these exact motions two years ago, when he thought she was the one who was dead.
“I miss you,” he says finally, and his voice cracks.
“I miss you too,” she says, and her voice sounds wet with tears. “I wish I could be there for you right now.”
“This - is enough,” he chokes. “Thank you for calling.”
“Of course,” she says. “Of course.”
It is still dark in his apartment. The curtains are still drawn.
But maybe everything hurts just a tiny bit less.
#whumtober2023#no.7#“can you hear me?”#criminal minds#mentions of drugs tw#spencer reid#maeve donovan#emily prentiss#the bau
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
enjoy me bitching about s4 !!
I’ve wanted to talk about something. I’m actually disappointed in the duffer brothers rn. There was a pattern up from s1 right to current s4 and it was killing off new characters.
Now, we all thought ”Okay, hopefully they wont kill off Eddie, but considering the pattern we have to get ready for him to die.” We all had our hopes up. And they pretty much let us down. I’m not saying that s4 vol2 was bad, it was good, i liked the graphics and the continuation of the story, but there was absolutely no reason for them to kill off Eddie. There were several new characters this season : Argyle, Jason and his squad, Chrissy and Eddie (sorry if i forgot anyone).
Chrissy died at the start, at least they removed her immediately even though most of us liked her. They didnt put up pressure on the death. Argyle could’ve died, if he knew about the story with Vecna. They couldn’t have really connected Argyle’s location and the stuff happening in Hawkins. Still, he wasn’t an important character.
Now, onto Jason and his squad. Yes, one of the guys (forgot his name, my mistake) did die. But who says Jason couldn’t have died? In the attic scene with Lucas, he could’ve gotten pulled along with Max by Vecna. There we have it, 4th victim. Everyone would’ve been pretty much alive. I could’ve ended with Vecna stopping the killings and started making cracks in Hawkins, like in the usual plot. Max wouldn’t be in a coma probably either after that.
”Okay, but Ellie, Eddie wasn’t killed by Vecna, but by the bats?” See? Now we’re onto another subject. Vecna could’ve pulled Jason into the upside down somehow, because at this point we’re apparently writing a bunch of nonsense stuff. Who cares, right? The fanbase will eat it up. Jason could’ve proceeded to search for Eddie in his camper again, since there was no police guarding it. He could’ve called up his squad, and considering how dumb they are, go into Upside down and die by either stepping on the hive mind or getting killed by bats, etc. etc.
Also, I’ve heard some stuff about Eddie getting ”character development” after his death. His character was already fine from the start, if you dont mind about the ”hellfire is a cult thing”. He wasn’t a bad character, even though Hawkins thought he was. I understand that he was under pressure of his past mistakes, and running away from every possible bad situation, because if you think a bit more clearly, he felt guilty for everything. He felt guilty for getting Chrissy killed, for dragging Dustin, Lucas and Mike into the whole ”Where’s Eddie, your cult leader”. So yes, he had to stay and fight the bats.
“Oh, but he’ll be remembered as a hero now!” Sorry to burst your bubble, but at this point Hawkins is way down the rabbit hole and there’s no way of making them think that Eddie isn’t such a bad guy after all. Jason had a big impact on the school members. Chrissy’s death in Eddie’s trailer had a big impact on the citizens of Hawkins. And in the end, they didn’t even try to somehow, in any way, grieve about his death. Dustin obviously couldn’t have pulled Eddie’s body back into Hawkins, he needed at least 1 more person. Thinking on the bright side, at least he got his necklace.
Also, take this in consideration. Eddie’s line ”I’m buying us time.” is true. He was stalling the enemies in upside down. He had to at least try and kill the bats or lead them away from the trailer so the rest of the squad could get back safely. He also did that so the bats wouldn’t chase back to Dustin, who was back in Hawkins. AND he had to chase the bats away from Henry/Vecna’s house, so the bats wouldn’t catch up on Steve, Robin and Nancy.
Another thing that I simply do not understand with the whole writing is how Steve, Nancy and Robin didn’t say anything about the situation. Either Dustin didn’t tell them, or they were lazy to write a scene. They could’ve at least arranged like a grave, even if his body wasn’t there. He deserves to remembered like a normal human being, not as a ”serial killer” or “the famous, cult leading drug dealer of hawkins”. All it took was one moment where they would grieve about him. Honestly, I myself would’ve written that scene, if i knew how to write a script.
Alright, that’s all. Feel free to correct me if i missed something or written something falsely.
#strangerthings#stranger things#stranger things s4#st4#st s4 vol 2#Eddie munson#eddiemunson#munson#eddie munson x reader#st death#stranger things volume 2#eddie#upside down#upsidedown#hawkins#hellfire#hellfire club#stranger things netflix#joseph quinn
140 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
brosexmate
SEXMATE
mistakenevolution-blog
Globe-Trotter
misscordeliabutindreallife
dml (Taylor's Version)
erwinscrybaby
BRUTAL
misscordeliabutindreallife
dml (Taylor's Version)