#why don’t we ever have normal fucking angst in this fandom
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Anon anon come back here, I watched it and what the hell and fuck was that
#trigun#trigun 98#tri98#what the hell man#I was so young and naive and unburdened by knowledge#millions knives#vash the stampede#legato bluesummers#ffs#why don’t we ever have normal fucking angst in this fandom#asks#I know this ask is from January I’m sorry#feverdreamsandlucidnightmares
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ameliorate
a/n : i’ve never publicly posted a fic/drabble here before so i’m nervous about this and i’m knew to fandom writing so bare with me.. (thanks if u read this, love u lots (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b )
pairing : luke castellan x apollo kid!reader
summary : you were there when thalia got turned into the pine tree. you were a healer, why couldn’t you have healed her?
!!! : angst, luke comforts reader, gn!reader, reader has a lot of emotional turmoil, a lot of self-loathe, reader blames themselves, i tried my best okay (｡•́︿•̀｡), you can read this to be platonic or romantic idfk, pre-percy
————— ୨୧ —————
a healer, that was your job.
ever since you took a step into the camp, you were given a role and that role is what you were going to do. heal and protect others, that is your purpose.
it was going to be easy. how hard could it be? heal some cuts here and there, maybe a sprained ankle when luke went too rough on another camper.
that’s what you thought it was gonna be. that’s what it was meant to be.
the events of that day still run circles in your mind. you should’ve done more, you could have. it was hard for everyone of course it was. grover failed at his job, luke and annabeth lost their sister. it was selfish thinking like this wasn’t it? to feel like you were the one taking it the hardest.
-
a sigh comes out shakily from your throat as you stand infront of thalia. your hand drags along the rough wooden exterior that once used to be her skin. trailing down you feel the gritty moss beneath your touch and you remember her soft hair, her laugh, her eyes. it was self torture thinking like this. you knew that.
but you were a healer.
why couldn’t you heal her back to normal? people at camp- no even chiron said that your powers are some of the best he’s ever seen so why the fuck can you not heal her back to normal? why in that moment you couldn’t have had some instinct to heal her? what was wrong with you? you had every chance to save thalia,
why did you not take it?
before you realise it tears stream down your face and your knelt infront of the solid lumber which was once your friend, your sister. on both knees you cry into your hands. thalia was gone and you failed your whole purpose.
you heal people.
-
you lost count of how long it was since you came to see thalia. had it been 20 minutes? maybe an hour? you didn’t know. you stood yourself up now, tears still silently rolling down your cheeks. you were stuck in your head for what felt like weeks, years almost. you came to do this often, to see thalia. to try and erase the guilt that built in your stomach and plagued your mind every living moment of every living day.
you were sick and you were tired, exhausted if you must. you wished she would wake up, gods you wished you would wake up and this would all be some batshit hallucination. but alas, the gods don’t respond to such calls.
you feel a breeze hit you, it wasn’t cold but you still shivered at the feeling. you close your eyes hoping for something to happen. you wait,
one second,
then two,
then th- are those arms around your waist right now?
-
“shit!” you jump, feeling two strong arms curl around your waist. turning around your met with the goofy smile of luke castellan. “sorry, sunshine.” he laughs softly, quickly you raise your hands to your face wiping your eyes and he tuts his tongue at you. “why are you hiding away from me?” luke pouts at you, one arm secured around your middle while his other hand reaches to your face cupping your cheek.
“what are you doing out here?” you say clearing your throat to stable your voice. “i’m here to make sure your not in your head.” he grabs the top of your head and shakes it about and you swat away his hands with a soft “quit it.”
“i was just about to head back in” you say, let me rephrase that. you- “your lying.” he says and quite literally takes the words out of my mouth.
“we all wish we could’ve saved her, sunshine.” luke coos, standing next to you now. his hand now securely on your shoulder pulling you close to comfort you. it was ironic calling you sunshine honestly. yeah your dad was apollo, greek god of sun and light, but your light was dimmer compared to your bright and bouncy siblings. a rough sigh escapes your throat and you hang your head low, “i could’ve done more. i should have luke you don’t get it.” you murmured.
luke looks at you worriedly, his hand rubbing your shoulder warmly. “we all wish that, sunny.” another contridictive nickname. “i know what is going on in that brain of yours you know.” luke’s the one that sighed now. “you know your abilities a lot more deeply now, you were a kid back then. we all were, you can’t keep blaming yourself for things that a kid who was barely a teenager could have never done.” luke emphasised, his eyes drawing from thalia to look at you.
“she isn’t even dead, sunshine.” luke smiles solemnly at you, his lips forming a tight line before the corners of it rise. “she’s right here.” his hand touches the bark of the tree. “right here with all of us.”
luke’s hands draw to both of your shoulders and he turns your body so both of you are face to face. “no matter how strong someone is, you can’t save everyone.” he nods sadly, “i know you wish you could, but you can’t.” he bites his inner cheek to stop his own tears from pooling out. “sun-“ before he could finish that sentence your arms were around him, embracing him softly. no words had to be spoken for luke to just hug you back. soft sobs escaping your throat as you cry into his warm body.
you two stood there for a while but that didn’t matter to him, he was your friend and he was your pillar in this time of need. no matter how wet his tshirt was right now, it didn’t matter. luke would rather stand there and hug you for a century, for a millenia, for fucking ever if that meant that you were gonna be okay. he’ll be there right by your side through everything. you’ll heal every one of his cuts and he’ll fight the ares kid that makes fun of you during capture the flag and then you’ll bake him blue cupcakes as a thank you.
-
you were a healer.
and despite not being able to save your sister, thalia. you vow to never let anyone else go through that. you were a healer and you will heal others and yourself for her.
f/n
————— ୨୧ —————
#percy jackson#pjo series#pjo tv show#pjo#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson and the olympians#angst#fluff#comfort#sunshine#apollo#luke castellan isn’t evil here#post-thalia
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Masked Adversary | D.L.
MASTERLIST
this fics masterlist
fandom: Kick-Ass
pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader
WARNINGS: (in this chapter) swearing lolz, angst and fluff splattered here and there, reader and Dave hate each other and its very amusing (to me), two creeps try to kidnap you but Kick-Ass saves the day! mention of a small cut and blood, i think that's it?
summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until Kick-Ass has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.
WC: 3k
gif not mine !!
A/N: hei... I'm back and better and bigger than ever! I have a couple more parts to this fic coming so I hope you like it!
———————
“Man, why do you guys hate each other’s guts so much? Weren’t you two like best friends three years ago?” Said Todd, cutting the tension. You had forced yourself to sit at the same table as Dave, only to avoid looking like a pitiful loser and sitting alone.
“I don’t know, Todd” Your tone laced with sarcasm, “Maybe you should ask David.” You tried to quickly finish your lunch.
Dave only sighed in annoyance. He didn’t like this broken friendship with you. You had known him since you moved to the city when you were four and quickly became attached at the hip. In freshman year he developed a crush on Katie Deauxma and stopped talking to you thinking Katie might think you two were a thing. You told him to stop ignoring you and he talked to you like some girl who was just obsessed and jealous. After you slapped him in the face for acting like a dick, your friendship ended. Although it was his fault, the way you so quickly cut him off after (rightfully) acting like a bitch to him, had his blood boiling.
You weren’t jealous of Katie because he liked her. You just couldn't stand to see him waste his time on a girl when he should have been worrying about the next issue of his favorite comic.
Anyone at your school could say that you and Dave Lizewski were often at each other’s throats. It’s not like you actually fought all the time, most of the time you could withstand a normal conversation with him, or even just being in the same room. You always somehow found things to argue about in every class you had together. Dave was even more pushed around now thanks to the acquaintances you had that happened to be on the football team.
“Alright, I’m finished. See you in class, Todd. Bye Marty.” You smiled softly at them, sending them a small wave and completely ignoring Dave’s presence. You had an argument before coming to lunch, that’s why you didn’t talk to him.
“See ya,” Said Marty with his mouth full, waving enthusiastically.
Dave hit his arm.
“What? Just ‘cause you’re mad at her doesn’t mean we have to be.” Marty said.
“Yeah…” Agreed Todd, watching you as you walked away. “She’s hot as fuck.”
“Shut up, Todd. You fucking hornball. She’s insufferable.” Dave rolled his eyes, picking up his things to go to his next class.
He pondered daily about what he did to lose your friendship, you meant everything to him. Although from the outside it looked like he wanted to strangle you, he secretly wanted to be your best friend again.
“Hey Cleo,” you greeted a friend at your locker. You had three classes with her. “Hey! Did you see that new video of Kick-Ass?”
“…No, I haven’t.” You laughed nervously.
“Yeah, he fights off some assholes trying to rob a guy. He totally kicked their asses.” She chuckled.
“Why’s everyone so into him?” You queried.
“‘Cause its a brave teenage guy fighting for what’s right, duh! He’s also super cute.”
“But you haven’t even seen his face,” you continued.
“Have you actually looked at him? If you don’t see anything in him, there’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“Whatever.” You giggled at her excitement, beginning your walk to class.
———————
Unfortunately for you, being late to your last class got you detention after school. As a result, you missed the bus back home and none of your friends with cars had stuck around to take you back. There was no way in hell you’d get into a cab alone, so you had to walk home.
It wasn’t a terribly long walk, but it was a drag. An hour of walking made headphones very useful in such times, and you were glad you brought them today.
Walking home included having to pass through a small part of the city in order to get to your neighborhood. It wasn’t the best of places, but the convenience store at a corner on the way there helped improve your mood.
“Thanks Pat!” You told the old lady at the register. She was the sweetest, and you often passed through here so she grew a liking to you, occasionally letting you take a free candy bar for your journey.
“Of course baby. Get on home safe, alright? Come back soon!” She smiled. This brought a grin to your face.
Continuing the walk home, you felt some sort of presence behind you.
Fuck.
You were about to turn a corner when a man grabbed you by your wrist.
“Why’s such a pretty girl like you walking all by herself?” He smirked.
“Let me go, you fucking creep!” You tugged your hand away, the other man walking closer causing you to take a step back. In the corner of your eye you spotted someone, Kick-Ass was making his way to turn the corner.
“Help!” You yelled, making the masked hero jolt up to look at you. His eyes widened upon meeting yours and he hesitated before he quickly made his way to you.
“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch. What’s in your bag?”
The other man was about to take your bag before Kick-Ass turned the corner.
“Hey! The hell are you assholes doing?”
They both stared at him, one nodding at the other as he ran to fend the hero off.
You could only stand there and watch as the other man tried pulling you away. Kick-Ass was able to knock the robber out with his baton after the short brawl. Thankfully the man in the mask caught up, but the man holding you held a knife to your throat.
“Back the fuck off or I’ll kill her.”
Your entire life flashed before your eyes. You thought of all the mistakes you've ever made, how you fucked up big-time with Dave and now that you were about to die, you'd never be able to fix the friendship you had with him. You thought about what you would say to him if you got the chance to make peace with him. How you'd apologize for being such a bitch, how you'd give him that collection of The Punisher he gave you back in freshman year that you never got the chance to return due to the fight you had, how you were currently not on the best terms with your parents, how you never got to apologize to that one girl you didn't stick up for when she was being bullied by some girls you knew.
How you were going to die without getting to share any kind of intimacies with a boyfriend. You'd had two boyfriends before, no more, no less. Both those relationships ended because you were either a rebound or "practice." To put it simply, they couldn't keep it in their pants and you would die a virgin for being so afraid.
Kick-Ass stared between you and the culprit.
“There’s a camera right there.” He pointed his thumb behind him, and sure enough there was a camera pointing straight at you and the criminal.
The man threw you to the ground, attempting an attack on Kick-Ass. Not even five seconds into the fight, the knife was quickly knocked onto the street. The mugger did get quite a few hits in, even knocked Kick-Ass down a couple of times. But as soon as the masked man was on top of him, he kept jabbing and hooking, not once letting the man recuperate.
It was a painful sight to see, like he was taking all his anger out on the bad guy. You could only stand there and watch in awe.
“Don’t ever touch anyone again, asshole.” He said, holding the man’s collar.
“Okay man, just let me go!” He begged for mercy. Kick-Ass knocked him out with one last fist to the face.
He got up and looked at you. Realizing who you were, he pushed aside all his personal problems with you and lent you his hand to help you up, “Uh…A—are you okay miss?”
“Yes, I’m—I’m fine,” you stuttered, still in utter shock that you almost got kidnapped. But so incredibly grateful that he was there to save you.
“Did they hurt you anywhere?” He questioned, dismissing the fact he had a little scratch on his eyebrow that was bleeding too much for your comfort.
“No, I’m okay. Even if I wasn’t, my mom’s a nurse so I’d be fine. Are you?” You looked at his eyebrow, pointing to it.
“It’s fine, doesn’t even hurt...” He waved his hand.
You looked behind him only to see that the man he first fought was gone already.
“We should get out of here, the cops’ll probably be coming soon,” you looked into one of the stores on the sidewalk, seeing that a couple of people had their phones out and had recorded the whole thing. And that meant someone probably called the cops too.
“Yeah,” He looked back at them and waved with a smile. “Let me walk you home,” He offered.
You didn’t even know who he was under that mask, but something told you that you could trust him. “Sure, thank you.”
———————
“Why’d you even decide to be a hero anyway?” You laughed.
“I dunno. I see so many comic book nerds but it’s just weird that no one has actually tried to be a hero yet. And I guess I just wanted to see what it was like.” He chuckled.
“So you like getting your ass kicked every so often, Kick-Ass?” You giggled.
“Ha, good one,” he scoffed at your pun.
“But seriously, why haven’t you quit, even after getting hurt all the time?” You asked.
“I—I got into an accident, I can barely feel pain ‘cause of it. Plus, I can’t just look the other way anymore.” He looked at you. “Sure as hell couldn’t turn away from the damsel in distress.” He joked. The suit and mask gave him such incredible confidence and ego.
You smacked his shoulder, scoffing. The walk home with Kick-Ass had you finding out that the two of you had quite a lot in common. The both of you really liked comics, he was a kid your age, and he was also one of Pat’s favorite customers. Kick-Ass seemed like he was an amazing guy. Too bad he wore a mask.
“Welp, this is me,” you arrived at your home. “thanks for walking me home. I really enjoyed talking to you.” You smiled widely,
“Don’t mention it, I also enjoyed talking to you. I—If you ever need anything… Just message me on MySpace… Or something.” He smiled softly.
Now you understood what Cleo and every other girl saw in him.
“Sure thing, Kick-Ass. Same to you. You know where I live now,” you chuckled bashfully.
You looked at him for a second too long.
“I feel like I know you—you’re so familiar.” You spoke.
His heart began to race, “Well, I guess we’ll never know.” He chuckled nervously, looking elsewhere.
His eyes were so damn beautiful. They were so blue, they looked like sapphires or something.
How corny, you thought.
“See ya ‘round,” he saluted, turning to walk away.
“See you…” You spoke, but he was already out of earshot.
His strut was so fucking hot. Who knew you’d be attracted to the way a man walked?
———————
“You lucky bitch! Did you have a super hot make out session after that!?” Cleo spoke as you two grabbed your trays for lunch.
“Shut up!” You laughed. “No, I just think he’s cute is all. But thank fuck he was there. I probably wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him.”
“Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter.” She sighed contently at the story of your interaction with him.
“Hey, let’s go sit over there,” She pointed at a table with three boys, Todd, Dave, and Marty. “I told Todd I’d sit with him today.”
“Sure thing…” You agreed hesitantly. She bit her lip before continuing. “Is it just me or is Todd kinda cute?” She whispered, giggling as you approached the table.
You only rolled your eyes. “Hey guys,” You greeted, sitting next to Marty, Cleo sitting next to Todd across from you. Dave still in his usual spot at the end of the table.
“Hi Dave.” You smiled almost artificially, showing you weren’t so mad at him anymore.
The three boys looked at each other in surprise.
“You’re in a good mood today,” Said Todd.
“Hey.” Dave finally replied.
“What’s up with you?” Questioned Marty, “Can’t remember the last time you actually said ‘hi’ to Dave.” He said sarcastically.
“Guess I’m in a good mood.” You glanced at Dave, suddenly letting go of the resentment you had towards him, because of the fact your life was almost taken from you. You took the chance you had now, to begin to sort everything out before it would be too late. You still disliked him though. Not because of what he did, but because he's just a dick.
Does she know? He thought to himself anxiously. You were the last person he wanted to know about this. He just wouldn't be able to stand the embarrassment.
“Did you guys see the fight Kick-Ass had last night?” Asked Cleo.
“What? No,” Marty and Todd got excited.
“Yeah, why don’t you tell them what happened?” Cleo smiled, giving you the spotlight.
You looked at the boys awkwardly,
“I was about to get kidnapped… And, uh yeah. Kick-Ass kicked these two guys' asses...”
Todd and Marty were upset at the lack of detail, but Dave giggled quietly at the joke, smiling as he poked his food.
“I’m gonna have to watch it later.” Marty said, Todd then agreeing.
“Do you guys seriously have a crush on him or something?” Questioned Dave.
Cleo laughed. “Dave, every girl I know has a crush on him.”
He swallowed, he wasn't aware of this. Dave never caught the attention of girls. That he knew of.
“I mean, you have a crush on him too, right?” Cleo asked you, trying to prove her point.
Dave’s eyes widened before looking your way.
“I—I mean I wouldn't call it a crush, but yeah, I guess he’s pretty cute... I like... His eyes. The color's really nice."
Dave couldn't help but smile at the flattery. Knowing that you were attracted to him, in a way, made him feel so odd. He never thought you'd see him that way. Well, not him, but whatever part of him you could see.
"You think he has nice eyes?" Dave chuckled. It made you a little mad because it sounded like he was making fun of you.
"Yes, he does. What about it?" Cleo butted in.
"Not just his eyes, though." She turned to you, "He's got super broad shoulders and a nice ass. Just saying I'd hit. He’s definitely big." She whispered the last part under her breath.
"Ooookay! I think you got your point across, Cleo. Thanks for sharing." You gave her a look that said, 'Why the fuck would you say that out loud?'
“What? I'm just being honest." She continued eating her lunch like it wasn’t a big deal.
You could only stare in utter shock, blinking over and over, trying to figure out if this was a dream or if Cleo really just said that.
You spotted Dave in the corner of your eye with something not quite like disgust, but his jaw hung ajar. Then you noticed Todd and Marty staring at her the same way.
"I know you can at least agree that he has a nice ass," Cleo smirked at you.
You just laughed and resumed eating your food.
"I didn't know you girls for real liked guys' asses. I thought that was just a guy thing." Spoke Todd, teasing.
"Shut up, Todd." You said, making a short second of eye contact with Dave, it looked like he was thinking the same thing as you, and you both giggled in unison.
The others looked between you both weirdly, making the two of you clear you throats and quickly finish eating.
The hell am I being so giggly with him for?
———————
You had your last three classes with Dave, but you never acknowledged him. Today some of your teachers decided to rearrange your seating. You thankfully didn't get any seats next to him, and you hoped you wouldn't either at your last class.
"Fuck," you checked your wristwatch as you switched out your books from your locker, only to see that you were going to be late for the last class. You hoped and hoped that you didn't get another detention.
You made your way to the classroom as fast as you could, stopping right outside the door to avoid bursting it open and embarrassing yourself. The excitement you felt when you noticed a single empty seat in the back corner of the class was incomprehensible.
Until you noticed Dave in the spot next to it. He looked up as he heard the door open, immediately locking eyes with you. You sighed in disappointment, knowing that there was no way the teacher would let you switch.
"Looks like you're stuck with me for the rest of the year." Dave whispered as he looked up at the teacher, taking out his textbook.
"Fuck you, Lizewski." You sneered, only making Dave roll his eyes, keeping his attention on the teacher.
“For the next three weeks, you will all be working on a presentation. If you don’t have it turned in by the 18th, you will get 10 points taken off your grade.” The teacher explained what he wanted you to study. The class groaned in annoyance, some people being excited, and others not.
“Everyone in columns A, C, and E, your partner will be the person to your right.” Again, most of the people in the class were content with who they were assigned, but unfortunately for you, you were the person to Dave’s right.
You stiffly turned to Dave, “We can study at my house… If you want.” You spoke.
“Let’s just do the first parts tonight and we can work on it at your house after school tomorrow.” He spoke with a bit of irritation. Probably because of your attitude earlier.
“Okay, sounds good..” You awkwardly pursed your lips and turned back to your book.
———————
thanks for reading!
#dave lizewski#kick ass#aaron taylor johnson#kickass fic#kickass x reader#dave lizewski x reader#dave lizewski fluff#dave lizewski angst#aaron taylor johnson fic#fanfic#writing#iz writes#dave lizewski fic#angst#fluff
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“Letters to My Love” | Hanji x Reader
Fandom: Attack on Titan
Pairing: Hanji x Reader
Words: 4k
A/N: This is a self-indulgent, completely unfiltered, messy little fic that deals with my love for Hanji. Ever since I started reading AoT back in 2015, I’ve had a soft spot for Hanji. My little ray of sunshine, one of my first comfort characters, the one character I could actually see myself becoming friends with in real life. Seeing her death finally animated (beautifully) brought a lot of feelings forward. She was brave and gorgeous and kind and absolutely amazing. It actually feels like I’m saying farewell to a close friend of mine. And so this messy fic was born, mostly unedited but with a lot of my personal feelings channeled into the reader’s POV. You can read this as either a platonic or romantic relationship, whatever floats your boat. I hope you enjoy the fic!
Warnings: lots of angst, major character death, implied reader death, some blood and violence, struggling to cope with grief, post-war/post-snk 139 world, Hanji is referred to as female with she/her pronouns
THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR AOT S4 PART 3 (AND THE UPCOMING PART 4) AND SNK 139! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT ALL CAUGHT UP, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
It’s all so stupid. A stupid idea, a stupid reason behind it, a stupid man telling you about it in the first place. Why even bother with this in the first place? It’s not like it’ll help you in the long run.
But Falco’s still staring up at you with those big eyes, the slightest quiver of his lip, arms stretched out towards your own.
“Please?” His voice is unnaturally soft; it might be the lighting, but you can almost see a tear in those huge eyes. “At least try it, won’t you? I promise, you’ll feel better. Just like Dad says.”
You don’t have the heart to tell the kid his father’s full of shit, just like everyone else in this horrible world. Nothing’s left for you to enjoy, nothing you can cling to during the tough times. Those days are gone, the memories of bliss vanishing with every passing day.
But he looks so sad, so fucking hopeful, as though he still believes you can do it. You can lift this crushing weight off your chest with just a pen, some paper, and a few words every day.
“…Fine.” He practically shoves the dusty old notebook into your chest with a smile. “I’ll give it a shot.”
You’ll try, but you already know it’s a waste of time.
I’m not good at this. Writing’s never been my strong suit—not when it comes to other people. But you already know knew that, didn’t you?
Mr. Grice gave me the idea. Says writing everything down is a lot better than saying it out loud sometimes. Falco said the same thing; he still writes to his brother every other week.
I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’ll ever send them, they’re just gonna sit in my desk collecting dust. But I told Falco I’d try for him. He’s a sweet kid, I can see why you like liked him. Sorry, it’s a habit.
I don’t know what else to say. I guess I’ll try again tomorrow.
It’s me again. Onyankopon came to visit again. He checks up on me at least once every week. Same day, same time. It’s like he doesn’t trust me. Maybe he’s just looking out for me. That’s what Levi says.
Things are slowly going back to normal. He says it’s been almost five months since you left the battle. It’ll be spring soon. This winter hasn’t been too bad though. I miss the snow a little bit. Maybe one day we can go further north to see some next year. I know Gabi and Falco would enjoy it.
I can’t think of anything else to write down. I’m sure I’ll be back soon though.
Mundane topics. What you ate today. Who you saw at the market. The stories Gabi and Falco would make up whenever they were bored.
It’s all so stupid, but you write it down anyway. Stuff she’d like, stuff she wouldn’t like. Not her name, never her name. You can’t bear to say it out loud, not even spell out the letters without bursting into a fit of sobs. What’s the point, anyway? Not like she’s here to answer her own name anymore.
Still, you keep writing. Every day, at least something goes down in that little brown notebook. You’re the only one who reads it. Mr. Grice refuses to, says it’s for your eyes only. Falco sometimes shares what he’s written to his brother, but only when the two of you are alone. He has a little brown book of his own, same shape and size too. Always keeps it in the first drawer of his nightstand, same place you keep yours.
The days crawl by. Every breath hurts less and less. Slowly but surely, you wonder if you’re actually getting better.
I thought of you today. The kids wanted to stop in a bookstore during our shopping trip so I let them. They can be so eager and hyper when they want to be. (Why can’t they be like that when it comes to their chores?)
They both went for the bookshelf in the far corner. Books about the world; about weapons, inventions, plants, animals, experiments, I couldn’t keep track of how many there were. And the kids just sat there for hours, leafing through book after book. I ended up leaving just to drop off the groceries at home before heading back to pick them up. And when I got there they were still poring over those dusty, wrinkled pages.
You would like the bookstore. It’s on the smaller side but it doesn’t feel crowded. It’s got a few benches for people to sit and read for a bit, and there’s a café right next door too. But when I told Levi about it he got a little snippy; I think he’s jealous, his tea shop will always be superior.
He’s doing okay, I know you’re probably worried about him. His leg still gives him trouble but he’s getting better every day. He gave me a job after the shop opened a few weeks ago. Right now I’m just cleaning off tables and fixing up pastries in the back. Gabi handles inventory with Levi (she’s actually pretty good at it) and Falco takes care of the customers up front. He has the best attitude out of all of us, I think. The job is a bit boring sometimes but it beats killing Titans, using ODM gear, being a soldier
Never mind. I’ll write more later, I have to go for now. I’ll be back.
It’s really warm today. I keep thinking about that summer we spent in Krolva, in 848. You kept hunting for strange plants and flowers in the forest and had me and Moblit chasing after you all day! But you didn’t stop, not even when Levi threatened to knock you out and haul you back to base.
Sometimes I can still see Erwin’s smile, hear Mike and Nanaba’s laughter, feel the light summer breeze against my face.
I can still remember the way you said my name. I miss hearing the sound of your voice.
For the first time in a long while, you wake up with a smile on your face.
Your cheeks are stained with tears, still. You haven’t gone to sleep silently once in the past six months or so. Always stuffing your face into the pillow, muffling your sobs, praying neither Levi nor the kids hear you being so pathetic.
Your head is pounding, throat tight but chest feeling lighter than ever. You have to write it down, you don’t wanna forget, don’t forget—
The notebook is resting on your dresser. Your hands still shake when you reach for it, almost clatters to the floor when you try to pick it up. The pen leaps from your trembling fingers. The first words you write are barely legible, but you don’t stop writing for anything.
I had a dream about you last night. I can’t remember everything but I know you were in it and you were still alive smiling.
Still had both eyes, silly girl.
None of our comrades were there; no Levi, Moblit, or Mike. Just me and you, sitting on the rooftop of the old Survey Corps base, watching the stars twinkle above us. Your arm was so warm against my shoulders. Your messy hair tickling my cheek. You were laughing about something, I can’t remember what. But you looked so happy, so carefree and joyful. You haven’t looked that relaxed in years.
You whispered something in my ear, and my throat exploded with laughter. You held me close, lips brushing my cheek, eyes shining in the glowing moonlight.
You were happy, so I was happy.
But then I woke up, you were gone, and I was cold again.
Summer’s almost halfway over. The tea shop has been busier, Levi seems to enjoy the success. He’s still not very sociable but he’s learning to be more pleasant with the customers. They’ll keep coming back if he’s not rude to them all the time.
The town is expanding. Onyankopon thinks one of the nearby cities will start offering jobs, either railroad work or seamstress positions. A lot of factory jobs will start coming back too, and they’ll pay well. He says I could apply, just to keep my hands busy. Says it’s good to get out of the country once in a while.
Still undecided, I’d be going alone. Levi refuses, he hates the idea of city living, and he has the tea shop to worry about. The kids would stay with them; Gabi doesn’t like the smell of smoke, and Falco wouldn’t go anywhere without her. I can go, I don’t have anything tying me down.
What do you think I should do?
Four weeks left. It’s getting harder and harder to keep writing. I thought it would get easier, like Falco said. But I still feel that horrible pit deep in my chest. A weight that’s making it harder to breathe every day.
I don’t know what to do. I’m a burden. I can’t do anything on my own anymore. It’s always Levi or Onyankopon who’s there to hold my hand. Always Gabi and Falco to bring me back, remind me I have to keep living, to keep my head out of the clouds. But sometimes I wish I could run away. Leave it all behind. Maybe that city idea doesn’t seem so bad.
I wish you were here with me.
August 22nd. Two weeks to go.
Levi’s been quieter nowadays. Onyankopon isn’t as eager when he’s talking about the recovering towns and cities. Even the kids are more solemn than usual.
Still hoping this is all a bad dream. That I’ll wake up and you’ll be at my side, smiling and laughing like you do. Not a single care in the world.
The calendar is torn to shreds, left on the kitchen table for everyone to see. Gabi is utterly silent, a far cry from her usual loudmouthed self. Falco is quick to pull her aside as you storm past them, down the hall and into your room, slamming the door with a thud.
Burying your face in your hands. Chest wracked with sobs. Throat burning as her name rips itself from your mouth.
Hanji.
Stop it.
Your back hits the wall, knees buckling beneath your weight. Nails tear at the roots of your hair, scraping down your cheeks, eyes growing warm even though you keep them shut.
Hanji.
Another scream, you throw yourself against the wall. Your shoulder collides with the bookcase, but the pain doesn’t help. Nothing helps you anymore, not even writing in that shitty little book—
Someone’s calling your name on the other side of the door. Tiny fists pound on the wood; the knob twists and turns in vain. You made sure to lock it after coming in here.
Stop it. Can’t they see you want to be left alone?
Alone. You’re all alone now. You have no one left.
No parents, no children, no comrades…
And no other half.
Hanji.
“Stop it!” But you can still hear her name, swirling around in your head, a chorus of a thousand voices.
Hanji, Hanji, Hanji.
“Leave me alone!”
Something shatters against the wall. Your palm stings with something fierce, a shadow of red seeping from the skin.
The book, the book, where is it? Where did you put it?
There it is—right on your bed where you left it last. You’re scrambling over broken glass to grab at it, bloody fingers clutching the pen stuck between the pages. The tears are hot against your cheeks. Hurt like nothing else, not even the pain in your chest.
And they just keep on coming as you keep on writing.
Why did you leave me? Why did you have to go? Why did you have to kill kill yourself like that?
We could’ve handled it. Without your help. Maybe if you’d let us you’d still be alive with me. If you’d just trusted me—why didn’t you trust me? I trusted you, why didn’t you return the favor?
It’s your fault I’m like this now. I was fine before but then you fucked it all up.
Did you think you were some kind of hero? You’re not. Going out in a blaze of glory? Selfish asshole.
You’re not. You never were. You left me and now I’m alone and I hate
I hate you.
I hate you I hate you I hate you didn’t have to leave me but you did and now I hate you I can’t believe I love loved you how could I ever love someone so selfish fuck you so selfish
I HATE YOU
YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DIE WHY AREN’T YOU HERE WITH ME ANYMORE WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU LEAVE TO MAKE YOU GO WHY WHY WHY
I STILL HATE YOU
Levi finds you hours later. Sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, hands trembling against your knees. The book is lying halfway across the room. Must’ve thrown it earlier.
He heaves a sigh, dragging his hand across his scarred face. And despite the ache in his leg he still kneels down to your level, taking a seat beside you against the bed. Wrapping up your hands in one of the spare shirts you tore from the dresser just minutes before.
“Brats were worried,” he finally says, and he sounds so fucking tired. There’s an inkling of guilt blooming in your chest. Such a burden to him, as always. “Said you’d run off and started crying.”
“…So?”
He rolls his eyes, focusing on your bloodied hands. They’re dry now, and he makes a sound of disgust in the back of his throat.
Eventually he pulls you on your feet, leads you to the washroom and runs your hands under the warm water. He wraps up your hands in some clean bandages; over his shoulder you can see two sets of eyes staring at you from down the hall. One brown, one hazel.
“Quit beating yourself up like this. That’s not what she died for, brat. And don’t ask me,” he snaps when I open my mouth, “what she died for. Because you and I both know the answer to that. …So don’t make me say it.”
You’re still blubbering like a child, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, splashing onto the clean bandages around your hands. Levi sighs again before pulling you in close, one arm looped around your shoulders. His chest is warm, heart strong against your palm.
But it’s nothing compared to hers—and the thought makes you cry even harder.
“I get it.” His lips are warm against your forehead, hand cupping around the back of your head. “I miss her, too.”
You’re not sure when he makes you leave the washroom. But once he does he brings you down to the kitchen, giving Gabi and Falco each a pat on their heads. You give them a smile, tears still fresh in your eyes, before gathering the torn pieces of the calendar in your bruised hands.
Maybe you can fix this. It’s the fifth of September, after all. Not a day you want to forget just yet.
I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, I swear on my life. I wanna rip those pages out but I’ll lose the other letters and I don’t want to lose them like I lost you.
I don’t hate you. You’re not selfish, you never were. I know you did the best you could as Commander of the Survey Corps, with the incredible weight on your shoulders. Your main priority was always keeping us safe and giving us hope.
I know why you left that day. But I wish you hadn’t left me behind. I could’ve gone with you, helped you out that day. We could still be together dead or alive.
I love you. I wish I could’ve said it when you were still alive with me. I wish I could say it to your face instead of writing it down in a dusty old notebook.
I love you. I miss you. I wish I could see your smile one last time. Hear your voice again. See the beautiful shine in your eyes.
Because I love you, and I always have. Maybe someday I’ll see you again and tell you face-to-face. Maybe by then I won’t be such a coward.
Hope you enjoy your birthday up there.
Every day brings something new. Smells, tastes, sounds, even the wind outside is different every day. People passing each other hour after hour, car horns filling your ears, the sting of smoke deep in your lungs; it’s easy to get lost in the atmosphere.
You take it in stride. Onyankopon is standing there, holding out his hand, ready to guide you deeper into the city. He’s offered to carry your suitcase but you insisted you do it yourself; too many memories are stuffed in between the clothes inside.
You suck in a breath and take his hand. A little awkward, with a suitcase in your other hand, and the old tattered notebook resting in the crook of your elbow. But the damn thing has already wormed its way into your heart, no way are you leaving it behind now.
A tight swallow, a soft smile from Onyankopon, as you let him lead you towards the next chapter of your life.
City life isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. It’s busy and crowded but it keeps me looking forward. No time to dwell on the past here. Maybe that’s why Onyankopon was so adamant about me living here.
There’s a bookstore here, much larger than the one back home where Levi and the kids live. It pays well, the owner’s nice, and she lets me borrow some of her own books from her personal collection from time to time.
She wears glasses too—not as cute as yours, though.
I try to visit Levi and the kids every other weekend. Gabi and Falco come to visit once in a while but Levi always stays behind. Blames it on the bad leg but we both know the truth. Too many bad memories of Mitras has made him wary of crowded cities.
But I like it. I have my own apartment, right next door to Onyankopon’s, with a balcony and a slew of potted plants. Onyankopon says some people like to name their plants just for the fun of it. The two sitting on the windowsill are Sawney and Bean. (You’re welcome, silly girl.)
It’s hard work but I’m getting better. I don’t dread writing in this book anymore. I can think of your smile without bursting into tears. For now I’m content to sit back and enjoy city life, until whatever god watching over us decides my time is up.
I promise to write soon; have to head to work now. I’ll be back.
It’s been a year since you left me. I still want to see you again.
Onyankopon and I are heading into town for a few days to visit Levi. He says he doesn’t need help around the shop but he never complains whenever I show up at his door. Sometimes I wonder if he feels obligated to put up with me. If he thinks you’ll haunt him forever if he turns me away. That sounds like something you would do, silly girl.
I had another dream about you last night. Right after the celebration for Shiganshina, the night before the expedition to reclaim Wall Maria. We were laughing and drinking and sharing old stories—but we weren’t alone. Erwin and Levi were there. So was Moblit, and by some miracle, so were Mike and Nanaba.
I hope we’ll all be together again soon. I hope they’re all watching us, waiting to see what we’ll do with this new world we’ve forged for ourselves.
I know you are. You’re always watching, aren’t you?
I have to go now, or Onyankopon will head out without me. I’ll let you know how Levi and the kids are when I come home.
Miss you more every day. I hope I’ll get to see you again soon. Until then, I’ll just have to keep writing these silly little letters. I think you’d like them anyways.
See you later, Hanji.
It’s bright when you open your eyes. Too bright, a soft breeze kissing your cheeks, nose scrunching up as you shield your face with your hands. Funny, you don’t remember leaving the window open when you fell asleep. Or sleeping outside, for that matter.
You’re lying in the grass, a bed of wildflowers sprawled beneath you. There’s a forest at the edge of the valley, close enough for you to see the shadows of animals spilling across the trees. The sun is warm on your skin, so bright and beautiful, not a single cloud in the sky.
Almost too good to be true.
Is this it? Have you finally reached the end of your line? All those days with Levi, Onyankopon, and the kids, moving from town to city for work, seeing what little of the new world you could for both you and your other half…
Has your time finally run out?
“Hey, over here!”
Your blood freezes in your veins. A shadow crosses yours in the warm sunlight. A heavy cape blows in the wind, a dark green to match the forest beyond the meadow.
A pair of wings splashed against the fabric. Messy brown hair tied up haphazardly. Shiny glasses reflecting in the sun. Warm brown eyes that remind you of home.
“I was wondering when you’d get here. It’s been kinda lonely, I have to say…”
Hanji Zoe is standing right there in front of you, looking as radiant as ever. No scars or bruises to be seen, nor the black patch over her left eye. No burns or charred fabric on her body.
She looks…happy. Safe, content.
Alive.
“…Dumbass,” you finally find your voice, rushing into her outstretched arms. “You had me worried sick! Are you hurt? Can I do anything for you? I swear, I won’t let you go anywhere alone ever again! I’ll be right there by your side for as long as you—”
“Hey, hey, hey, come on now! You’re gonna make me blush with all that sweet talk!”
But you can’t stop yourself. And before you know it you’re sobbing into her chest, arms wrapped tight around her wrist, feeling the soft b-bmp of her heart against your ear.
“Love you, you know that? I love you, so please don’t leave me again…”
You’ll say it over and over, as many times as she wants to hear it. But for right now she’s silent, her arms resting around your waist and shoulders, tugging you in for a bone-crushing hug. Her messy hair is tickling your nose again, her smile could rival the sun in the sky. She shakes her head and lets out a laugh, before pressing a warm kiss to the apple of your cheek.
“I won’t ever leave you again, alright? I’m sorry about that, I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t mean to leave you like that…”
You hold her tighter, knocking her down into the wildflowers below. She lets out a real laugh this time, hair sticking out like a halo above her head, palms against your cheeks. For the first time in months—no, years—your chest feels whole again.
“I know you didn’t. It’s okay, I promise, it’s okay…”
A comforting silence washes over the two of you. It’s so warm right here, in this little meadow of your own, surrounded by a thousand wildflowers. She’s finally safe in your arms, after all these years, and you are never letting her go ever again.
“…I love you, Hanji.”
“I know,” she answers with a smile that makes your heart soar, “and I love you too.”
#hanji x reader#hanji zoe x reader#hange x reader#hange zoe x reader#hanji zoe#hange zoe#aot season 4#aot spoilers#aot season 4 part 3 spoilers#aot season 4 part 3#snk 132#snk spoilers#snk 139#aot fics
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tell us about how you ship lane and ethan, cause how i see is lane is very obsessed with him and thats of course the romantic hate vibes. in my mind is basically the same dinamic as lego batman and lego joker, but i wanna know your take
So I’ve been really sitting on this question for most of the day because I have a lot to say about this.
There’s more under the cut, but the short answer is I ship them together mostly because how I view them as Narrative Foils who are both fixated/obsessed with each other (for different but equally interesting reasons). But also, it’s not outright hate they harbor (at least not in Rogue Nation, in Fallout that is more accurate), Ethan understands Lane’s motivations even if he despises the man’s actions, and Lane is very much interested in Ethan’s potential as an anarchist/terrorist.
I think it’s interesting you cite Lego Batman and Joker’s dynamic as the frame of reference for Your interpretation of Lane x Ethan, and that’s totally valid. I’ve not seen lego batman but what I understand is that that dynamic is romantically coded but played more cartoonishly, which is how I initially viewed Lane x Ethan.
You can absolutely play to the concept comedically, I think there is something inherently funny in shipping a hero with a villain (your mileage may vary.) But for me what draws me to actually writing fic is the angst potential of loving or lusting after someone who is ideologically opposed to you.
I think, and reasonable people are free to disagree with my opinion, that Ethan as a character harbors dark thoughts and feelings, but for several reasons lets them go. 1) He understands that there are consequence in giving into his impulsive anger (see: MI3 when he dangles Owen Davian from a fucking plane, which directly results in his own wife getting kidnapped) The idea that Ethan could never turn is something that floats around in the fandom, and while it’s true to say Ethan would never turn (it’s just something imbued into his character by now) I think we don’t explore the “why” of that enough.
Ethan has a support system, where Lane does not.
Ethan’s team, whoever they happen to be in any movie, are central to how Ethan interacts with the world he’s always trying to save. Ethan loses his entire team in the first film and that informs every decision he makes for the rest of his life. He wants out of the IMF, but he keeps getting pulled back in. He loses his team, his wife, his protégé and ultimately his ability to live a normal civilian life. But Luther, and Benji and whoever happens to stay on his team, he cares about them, they are his family. We don’t view his prioritizing of his family as selfish, because that’s what people perceive is a normal thing to do. But that prioritization always comes at the cost of the mission. Rogue Nation and Fallout lean into this heavily.
Ethan, if properly provoked, he will do impulsive or selfish things (even if those selfish things also happen to benefit other people). The caveat to that is that his friends are able to pull him back, or at least call him out and warn him from going too far on their behalf.
Also, Ethan has a history of rogue behavior that even if it is in the service of the “greater good”, is the justification that the villains of the last three films ultimately rely on for their own actions. So, while we the audience understand Ethan to be the good guy, in universe this is the exact reason all these spy organizations fear/distrust Ethan.
Comparatively speaking, Ethan is more well-adjusted than Solomon Lane, because despite the things he goes through, he doesn’t let his crisis of faith ever deter him from doing what he thinks is right.
In contrast, Lane lets his anger drive him into letting the world burn. His anger is destructive, but it serves his purpose of enacting revenge. But he is much more detached emotionally, and there are multiple ways to interpret Lane as a character, but I see him as someone who doesn’t want to admit he may have emotions. Which is understandable as again, he was also a former field agent.
The reason he keeps Ilsa around is that he sees potential in her, potential to see the world as he sees it. Vinter speaks at Ethan, asking aloud: “What does he see in you, I wonder?”. While Vinter may not see what Lane is looking for in Ethan, the fact that Lane doesn’t order his outright death is telling, at least to Vinter. (Although that is not enough to stop Vinter from trying regardless.)
There are parts of the script that where cut out of the final film that makes this dynamic more obvious, rather than the subtext it is in the narrative. And while, when analyzing their dynamic I can only rely on what makes it into the final product, the fact that Lane wants to “corrupt/torture/seduce” Ethan has always been intended. However one chooses to read that is up to the viewer, especially because this interpretation of their dynamic relies on subtext.
I think, personally, it’s interesting to explore this dynamic as basically like this:
Lane: Aren’t you tired of Being Nice, don’t you just want to go apeshit?
Ethan:
it's about the ideological conflict, and the begrudging understanding. Lane and Ethan function as narrative foils for each other, where they could have turned out as each other, had circumstances been different. “The Same thing that’s wrong with me is wrong with you (Derogatory)”
So that’s my thoughts.
#Nancy's Inbox#Anonymous#Solomon Lane#Ethan Hunt#Lunt#Glassboxboyfriends#Lane x Ethan#mission: impossible
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20 fic questions
tagged by @oodlyenough to do this!! thank you <33
1. how many works do you have on Ao3?
i have 22 works posted!
2. what's your total ao3 word count?
42,292 words! that actually really surprises me bc all of the things i write are one shots, and they aren't particularly long. i thought this number would be farrrrrr lower
3. what fandoms do you write for?
currently only ace attorney!
4. what are your top five fics by kudos?
a cold night in ikea (xmen)
good old days (ace attorney)
lost (xmen)
sunsets over genosha (xmen)
hot, sticky, sweet (ace attorney)
5. do you respond to comments?
yes!!!! i always make a point to respond :) i don’t really get that many comments on my fics so i always want to show some appreciation for the people that do take time to write something!!
6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
i guess lost? but the thing is i don't really like to write pure angst. most of the angst i write has a happy ending so by definition, that's probably the only fic i've written that has an angsty ending
7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
hmm see this is difficult when most of my fics have a happy ending and i think it's a little subjective which one is the happiest. but maybe sweet, sweet bliss since it's basically just pure fluff?
8. do you get hate on fics?
thankfully not, although i did get a slightly weird comment a couple months ago that i THINK was trying to jokingly tease me about how the characters were being ooc bc phoenix never gave edgeworth a blowjob in the games. and then they ended the comment with “but good job writing a story.” the problem is i did not know the person and so it did not really feel like much of a joke and it just. idk it felt very weird so i ended up deleting it
9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?
i only recently started posting smut. i still feel a little awkward about it bc both times it’s been pwp, and with that it’s just like. yeah here’s two guys fucking. that’s it. but maybe that’s just the ace in me talking and feeling kinda weird about it gjsjfjdjfjdf
10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?
normally no i do not, but i started talking about which pokemon some of the ace attorney characters would have with a friend. and from there we started talking about so many headcanons that i started writing something for that universe bc i was inspired, but i honestly haven't touched it in a few months bc i got distracted writing other things lol
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
not that i’m aware of, so hopefully never!
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
yes!!!! again this goes back to my fics i wrote as a kid (so back when i was still on wattpad), but a few people translated my fics into other languages. the only one i can remember specifically was it was translated into turkish, but i remember there being other ones as well
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
i have not! and i think that’s just bc i write roleplays with people instead
14. what’s your all time favorite ship?
either cherik or narumitsu <3
15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
probably the one i ended up posting anyway since i feel like i'll never come back to it skdfjgjsdfgkj
16. what are your writing strengths?
i think i’m a pretty concise writer, since i write how i think most people would speak. if that makes sense? my answer in the next question kinda gets into that, but i think i’m just not really someone who goes super artistic with my writing
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
i think i’m not the best at writing prose. like, i’m not great with using very flowery, poetic kinda language or vocabulary. i struggle with that a lot. also, i can’t really write long fics, or even multi chapter fics. i just do not have the energy or motivation to do either one lol so that’s why all my fics are one shots
18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
i try to do it as little as possible bc i only know english, so i have to turn to google translate. and even then i try to stick to only pet names and other terms of endearment, so it’s not like i’m even really writing full sentences or anything in another language
19. first fandom you wrote for?
percy jackson!
20. favorite fic you’ve written?
honestly it's so hard to choose but maybe blinding lights! i'm pretty sure it was the most excited i've ever been to write a fic, but i also recall really enjoying the setting of a cold night in ikea and being able to write that :) that one was the first time i had written fan fic since i was in high school, and it made me fall in love with writing again
tagging @japanifornication @sevenyeargap @ivy-saurs and anyone else that wants to do this! though no worries if you don't want to :)
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Sacrifice
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Pack x Reader
Request Summary: You're Scotts twin sister and make a sacrifice for the good of the pack
Warnings: death, panic attack, angst, murder described, death described, reader death; I know for a fact I've missed some and this one is pretty fucking rough, as always read at your own risk.
A/N: This one is angsty, and just a tad longer than normal, consider it my apology to nonnie for taking so damn long on this request. I hope you guys love it, and again, this one is rough, read at your own risk.
You're able to grab one of the fucking resilient demonic ninja's off of Isaac. You could smell his pain, his blood, and you could smell Allisons determination. The second one on Isaac was shot with Allisons arrow, it's glowing green, fighting with the clear pain it's experiencing. With a split decision you're next to Allison, pushing her out of the way, a sharp pain through your chest, and then you're numb.
Allison's face is rampant with fear, her shirt holding a tiny cut that didn't grace the skin. Good, she's okay, and then you're falling.
You don't hit the ground though, your brother, Scott, holding your face with a stray tear falling down his face. You reach up and wipe it away, "It's okay Scotty, it doesn't hurt." Scott chokes back a sob, his hand gently rubbing yours, "Is everyone else okay?" Scott starts to speak, his voice betraying him, sounding mangled, "Yeah, everyone is okay Y/n, you're gonna be okay too." You shook your head, "Not in the way you think I am," Scott finally releases a sob, "no, no, big brother," he tries to laugh, trying to give you a little peace with your joke that even though he's minutes older, he's still older, "it's okay, yeah? Me and you, fighting tooth and nail. This was the best gift I could've ever gotten, I love you, and I love the pack. This is okay." You reach behind him, fingers tangled into his hair, you pull him to you and kiss his forehead. "Don't let them blame themselves, and don't blame yourself," another kiss to his cheek, "I love you big brother."
Scott's memories with you flashes before his eyes as the color in yours goes out, how did we get here?
"Scott! You okay?" You look over his body for injuries, he hisses at you making contact with his torso. "Scott, what's wrong? Did you get bit by something too?" Scott's eyebrows raise, "What do you mean 'too'? Did you get bit?" You roll your eyes and turn around, shirt stained with blood, "Yeah, I managed to get away from the fucker while rolling down some hill, now let me see yours." You swat him away, lifting his shirt and taking a good look at the bite mark, "Okay, not too bad, you fix me up and I'll fix you up? Not a word to mom, got it?" Scott nods, walking with you into the house to take care of the bite marks.
Scott can't feel anything, surrounded by you, your lifeless body. His anger, no, pain, soars through him as his eyes glow, a roar deep within him. The only thing anyone in his pack can hear is the scream from Lydia's lips and the roar of pain from Scott.
Isaac barely notices the sound around him, only his own heartbeat in his ears as he listened to yours fade away.
"Isaac you fucking idiot!" You slapped Isaac on the back of the head, he looks at you with lost, glowing, puppy dog eyes, "Sorry, Y/n." His eyes dull to his normal brown and you frown, "You've gotta do better honey, you can't lose control like that, you'll kill someone and I know that's not what you want." Isaac sits on the metal bench in the locker room, head in his hands, "I don't know that I'll ever be able to."
You sigh, sitting next to him with your hand rubbing his back, "You will, just give it time, until then, you've gotta find something that works for you, something that prevents you from breaking someone fucking ribs Isaac." You voice becomes elevated again towards the end, irritated at Isaac's recklessness. "Yeah," he leans his head down to your shoulder, "I know firecracker."
Scott is blind to the feeling on his bloody hand, only noticing it when Allison's tears hit it. Allison brushes a hair out of your face, you looked peaceful, she's eternally grateful for you, for what you did for her tonight and what you've done for her up until this point.
"Allison, fuck," you huff, pulling yourself up from the ground, "let's do it again, I know that this isn't you, your aim is perfect, let it all go and focus on me okay?" She sighs, shaking the bow in her hand, "Maybe the fact that I could actually hurt you isn't helping." You're eye to eye with her, both hands on her face, eyes glowing, "No, you won't hurt me, I'm invincible remember?" She laughs, shaking her head, "Alright, last time." You grin ear to ear and took off running. Allison brings the bow up, listening to you run. She sees glimpses of you, through the trees, and the arrow is gone. She sighs, she didn't hit you, she's shouting at you "I told you! I can't do it!"
You touch her back, startling her, she lets out a small yelp and turns to you. Her eyes go wide when she sees the arrow sticking out of your shoulder. "Oh, Jesus Y/n," her bow drops and she's bringing her hands up to try and get it to stop bleeding. "Oh quit being a pussy and pull it out," you rolled your eyes, grabbing her wrist and bringing it to the arrow in your shoulder. "I'm so sorry I hit you-" she pulls it out and you let out a long groan, already feeling better with the object dislodged. "Don't be sorry, you hit me, let's do it again." Allisons eyes widen, if that's even possible, and shakes her head, "No, absolutely not." You laugh, "Lighten up buttercup, I'm invincible remember? And this time I'm not going easy." She scoffs at you, "Easy? Oh I see how it is, run little wolf, run." With that, you take off running, Allison laughing at your excitement.
Kira is frozen, she feels like she died, you were her best friend. Over anyone else, you'd been the first to accept her, the first to fight for her, the first one she'd confided in.
"Kira, what the hell are you saying?" You're sitting with your arms crossed at a picnic table, nose in your homework. "I-I know that we were friends first, so I was going to tell you first, before I said any-" You slam your hand one the table, "Kira, baby, spit it out, fuck." This is the you realize that Kira's scent holds fear and anxiety. "Kira, what's wrong?" You're more serious now, waiting for the bomb to drop that there's another fight to be had. "I like Scott, like like him, Jesus please don't be mad." You burst into full laughter, tears streaming from your eyes.
When you calm down Kira is staring at you, piddling with the strings on her sleeves. "Oh, my god," you laugh again, trying to calm yourself. "You're not mad?" You laugh harder, smacking the table a few times, "Jesus Christ no, I can't believe-" you stand up still laughing, hugging her. "I don't give a shit," rubbing her back, "you had nothing to worry about, as long as you don't get mad if I fuck your dad." Kira jerks back, shock on her face, "Y/n!" You laugh harder, "I'm fucking kidding, jeez," you sit back down, "fucking sit down and gush to me about my brother."
She shakes herself out of it when she feels her mother enclose her in a hug. Tears finally falling.
Lydia's scream has finally ended, and she's inconsolable. Memories flooding through her head as she lays her head on an unconscious Stiles.
"Lydia god dammit," you truck to the pool, "did you find another one?" You stop at the strong scent of blood, rushing to Lydia, Stiles right behind you. "Are you hurt?" Lydia shakes her head, staring at you, "I already called 911." Stiles looks hurt, arguing with Lydia over why she should call him before the police, but you push him to the side. "Heya honey," you wrap your arms around her waist, "it's okay, don't listen to Stiles grumpy ass, let's me and you go sit." You're not sure why you aren't phased by the body next to you, but you let Stiles do whatever he needs to do for Scott while you try and get Lydia's head back down to Earth.
"Hey Lyds, dontcha think you're a little overdressed to come to the pool?" She lets out a small chuckle and you relax a little, "This can't be my new normal, Y/n. Finding dead bodies? I can't take this." You hold her hand, sighing, "None of us asked for this Lydia, I'm so sorry. If you want I can stay with you for a few days, follow you if you zonk out again?" Lydia just nods, and she feels for the first time that you're as much her best friend as Allison.
Lydia can't stop crying, Scott is trying to get ahold of himself, Kira is crying with her mother, Isaac is breathless and in pain, and Allison is held by her father.
"She did it for me dad," Allison sobs, her father already made sure she wasn't hurt, "she did it for me and I don't know why." Chris shushes her, running his fingers through her hair, grateful for your sacrifice so his beautiful girl could live. "She did it because she loved you," Allison sobs harder, "I know sweet girl, but listen, we have to deal with this. You can cry, scream, break things later, but now? Now we get our stories straight." Allison nods, and her dad is off to Scott to prep him.
When Stiles finds out, it's like every cell in his body failed him. Scott caught him and pulled him into a hug, tears streaming down his face. "I know. I know brother." Stiles can't breathe, it's been a long time since he's had a panic attack, but here he is, without you, panicking.
"Stiles," you sigh, throwing a ball against his ceiling and back into your hand, sprawled out on his bed, "you've gotta stop." Stiles shakes his head, "No, no there is something here!" He tosses the books to the floor, you get off the bed, wrapping your arms around him from behind, "You'll find it but you're not going to without sleep. Come on." You tug him back to his bed, "Let's nap, and then we'll come back to all," you gesture to his board covered in multicolored string, "this." Stiles sighs heavily, letting you pull him to the bed. It's not the first time, and certainly wouldn't be the last, that you've convinced him to sleep. He crawls in next to you and you throw your arm open, allowing him to lay his head over your heart. He falls asleep to the lull of the thump thump thump.
Stiles shakes himself out of the memory, remembering that he'll never hear that beautiful sound again and vows to hold onto it. He lets out a pained, choked sob, "Scott-" Scotts arms are around him still, Scott can smell the guilt coming off of the small man, "Don't - It was not your fault Stiles. It wasn't anyone's fault." Scott lets Stiles cry, mourn his best friend, the woman he's come to love like his own sister. "Have you told Derek?" Scott sighs, Stiles already knows the answer.
When they get to Derek's place, Derek opens the door, already smelling them and their horribly displaced emotions. "What is it?" Scott lets himself in, Stiles following close behind him and he's checking for his little flame, and when you're nowhere to be found, his heart sinks. "Where's Y/n?" Derek can smell the grief coming off of Scott in waves, not missing the anger that hides beneath it. "Fuck, my little flame," his voice sounds broken, barely audible to the human boy who stares sorrowful at him.
"Derek Hale!" You kick the door open to home, "Derek Hale! Get your ass out here!" Derek almost materializes behind you, but you're just as quick as he is. "Derek Hale! I oughtta kill you, you son of a bitch!" You march to him, taking him off guard by your fist that collides into his face. He's knocked back a couple feet, staring at you with glowing eyes. Your eyes match his, "I am not afraid of your eyes, wolf boy! You turned three people!" Derek shrugs, "So what if I did?" You go for a second punch, this time caught by Derek, he can't smell a single ounce of fear, only fury.
"They knew what they were getting into," Derek lets go of your hand. "Oh, fuck you, Derek," you shove him back, "you can spin that stupid story to whoever you want, but you and I know better." Derek shrugs, "So what? They're better now, stronger, and they like it." You let out a deep growl, "Did you tell them about the death?" You step forward towards him, "Did you tell them how they'd be pulled into every murder in this town?" You shove him back again, following his step backwards, "Did you tell them of the pain? Did you? Of course not." Your hand grasps his chin, squeezing painfully with your claws out, making him look at you, "Hear me Derek Hale and hear me good. If anything," you squeezed him harder, bringing a hiss from him, "and I mean anything, happens to them, I will hurt you." You back away and head out of his house, stopping at his door, "And trust me, I'm a fire you can't put out." He laughs, watching you walk away, but mumbling just where you can barely hear, "I have a feeling I don't want to be burned by your flame."
A growl explodes from his lips, pain filling his entire being. You've been the glue that holds them all together, bringing them back from the brink again and again. How could they survive without you?
Months after your death, they've settled back into the groove of things, nothing ever feels the same without you though.
They talk about you all the time, Stiles has a tendency to try and calm people down like you did. Trying to help keep everyone grounded. He's nowhere near as good at it like you were, but he's trying. Allison keeps your memory around by never changing her lock screen, a picture of everyone in the pack resting on the screen she checks every five minutes. Isaac has found a new anchor, with Scott's help, using himself to be able to control the rage that flurries inside of him after your death. Lydia lives for adopting your fire, absolutely never keeping her mouth shut much to everyone's dismay, but it's a way to keep your image around. Kira has become closer to Allison and Lydia, but she knows they'll never replace you. They don't laugh at her like you did when she talks about Scott, and it's a painful memory. Derek's become much more involved with Scott's pack, dedicated to doing what he can for not fighting by your side the right you died, a debt he'll never repay. Scott finds his peace in his pack, but the hole in his heart for his sister will never fade, like the newly placed fire tattoo on his forearm will never fade.
They are all eternally grateful.
They all know it'll never be the same.
They all hate your sacrifice.
#teen wolf fluff#teen wolf angst#teen wolf fic#teen wolf fanfic#teen wolf fanfiction#Scott x reader#Scott McCall x reader#Scott McCall x mccall!reader#Scott McCall x sister!reader#Scott x sister!reader#derek hale x reader#Derek x reader#derek angst#Derek Hale angst#Scott McCall angst#stiles x reader#stiles stilinksi x reader#Lydia x reader#Lydia Martin x reader#Isaac x reader#Isaac Lahey x reader#kira x reader#Kira Yukimura x reader#allison argent x reader#Allison x reader#pack fanfic#Stiles Stilinski angst#stiles stilinksi imagine
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Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village
Rating: M for mature. Blood, more blood, heavy language, seriously lots of blood. Literally the bloodiest/most detailed thing I've written.
Genre: Super angst with some fluff to ease the pain. We're talking putting honey in your cup of poison to make it taste better. The ending is split, with both a happy and a sad ending.
Warnings: Minor surgery (technically?) while the patient is fully awake (that's the reader, btws), blood loss, graphic depiction of a wound and how said wound is taken care of. Possible trigger for self-harm, as the reader is performing part of the surgery themselves. Also brief mention of cannibalism in the bad ending. This may very well be a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat sort of thing.
Notes: While I have more medical knowledge than the average person, due to my Girl Scouts training + having a mother as a nurse, I am in no way shape or form a medical professional, and do not suggest that the methods of treatment used in this fic be taken seriously. If you find yourself seriously injured, do not attempt to replicate anything you read here. Only a portion of this is based on a real-ass incident I went through, the rest is based on a dream, and what I experienced was not what you want to do in an emergency.
{Wounded Love}
This was a mistake. Blood stains your leg, your fingers, and bruises start to form all over your exhausted body. And for what? Why had you, a tiny, fragile human, dared to pass through this damned, lycan-infested forest? Because a woman who didn’t even love you asked you to. Now you were going to die, body certain to get left out in the cold or reduced to a pile of gnawed bones. If you had more strength remaining, you might have slammed your hand into the ground in frustration, or screamed until your lungs burned from something other than frost.
But that wouldn’t get you anywhere. Wouldn’t help you get back to the castle, wouldn’t ease the racing of your heart. So you settle for the only thing that might do any good: One quick motion pulls the scarf from your neck, sending a chill down your spine that you promptly ignore. Even with shaky hands and numb fingers, your experience is enough to let you wrap the cloth around your leg, tying the ends in a knot to secure it. The pressure hurts, just not enough for you to prefer bleeding out. A test step reveals that walking is mildly more difficult now.
“I’m going to haunt her,” you muse, under your breath, tears starting to freeze at the corner of your eyes. Still, you are as quietly determined as ever, and so once more you limp down the path. Every time you put weight on your injured leg it protests harder. If not for the snow and ice covering the ground, you might have quickly searched for a walking stick. “What could be so important about this damn package? Couldn’t Doug or whatever-his-fucking-name-is deliver it? Man can practically teleport, and here I am, watching as blood loss and hypothermia race to see who can kill me first.”
Gods were you angry. Why had this happened so soon after you had settled in? Finally you had been comfortable in Castle Dimitrescu, no longer as frightened of the residents, even finding them… charming, in a way. Then the Lady of house called to you for what she claimed to be a simple errand. You had believed her, even when she explained that you would have to leave the relative safety of her home. What a fool you had been.
“What a fool she must be,” you murmur, “to think me safe here. To think I could outlast wolfmen prowling the village outskirts.” Would she even care if she saw you now? Would she be surprised, disappointed? Would she do something to change your fate? There was no reason for her to do so. It didn’t matter how much you had helped her, how much she claimed to appreciate what you did (heavy lifting, repair of clothing, massages). You were as replaceable as any other Maiden there was. And that, that was what made you have a double-take. It came to you in that moment, a thought so painful that you could not deny it was the truth. “She never thought I would survive.”
Bitterness coats your tongue, like blood in your throat, and your brain demands that you destroy your cargo, the very thing that got you sent here in the first place. You almost do it. Feet stopping, arms shrugging the carrying straps off, bloody hands taking hold of it. Tears fall, just two, and hit the package. At that moment your plan changed. This new idea would be far, far more satisfying… as long as you succeeded.
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Spite was one hell of a drug. Enough of it and you could march your warm corpse right back to the castle, fist banging on the front door with everything you had. The path had been shorter than you thought, thankfully, but it had still taken so much out of you. Now you were leaning against the door, sliding down it, unable to support your own weight. Nothing inside the castle stirred. Were they ignoring you? Was Alcina really going to let you die inches from your “home”? Fuck that, you thought.
“Alcina!” You scream, loud as you can, startling the birds in the distant trees. The word echoes around you and rattles inside your ribs. It’s not enough. “Damn it, I am seconds away from dying, get out here now so I can look you in your fucking eyes!” Something tears a little in your throat, turning the last of your words into a hellish screech, leaving you to gasp and croak in the snow. You go to wipe your tear-filled eyes with your hands, only to remember just how much blood they’re covered in.
Sobs overtake you in just a few moments. You’re blinded by tears, deafened by sorrows, and numb from all the cold. In the aching seconds before you black out, you can only barely make out the silhouette of someone rushing to your side…
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The first thing you feel when you wake up is mind searing pain. You try to jolt upwards, only to find a pair of strong, gloved hands holding you down. Someone shouts something, but you can’t make it out, and you feel another hand gently squeeze one of your own. Pained gasps escape your throat one after the other, but whatever is hurting you doesn’t stop. It takes a full minute for you to adjust enough to make sense of where you are. At last, you understand what’s being said.
“-it’s okay, shhh, please, we’re trying to help,” says none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. She’s the one holding your hand, doing her best not to hurt you with her grip, trying desperately to calm you down. One the other side of you, Cassandra is positioned to hold you down. There’s a tight-lipped scowl on her face, and her brow is furrowed, but she’s not looking at your face, but rather eying somewhere in the opposite direction. Following her gaze, you find her older sister is sitting near your injured leg, and is undeniably the source of some of your pain. In one hand she holds a bottle of alcohol (notably not the wine her family produces), the other holding a wet cloth to your wound. No wonder it stings so much.
“Shit, shit, stop,” you growl, barely getting the words out. But all anyone does is look at you. Alcina’s mouth opens to speak, only for you to cut her off. “I’ve got medical training, for the love of Mother Miranda let me help! How long have I been unconscious?” This time Bela stops, glancing at her mother for direction. The grip on your torso grows looser, with Cassandra evidently heeding your words, and you take the chance to sit up, careful not to move your leg. At this point you realize that there’s a needle of sorts in your arm, attached to a tube, which trails up into a blood bag. It’s clearly been improvised with equipment from the “wine-making” part of the castle.
“Fifteen minutes at most,” a new voice chimes, from somewhere behind you. “I got that cloth you wanted, mother, but something tells me I’m not done fetching things.” Ah, Daniela Dimitrescu. Was the whole family helping you?... Why? As much as you wanted answers, there wasn’t (currently) time for questions. Not when one glance at your leg tells you that some of your flesh is rapidly decomposing. The wound was made only an hour ago, and already it was getting deadlier than you could even process.
“I need a sharp, clean knife, a needle with thread, a glass of water, and someone needs to put a metal tool, sterilized, on the stove, right now,” you said, finding it easier to talk now that no one was cleansing your wound. Without hesitation Daniela dispersed into a cloud of insects, heading towards the kitchen, while Cassandra stood up and moved towards the stairs.
“Guess I’ll get the needle,” she said, sounding rather unenthusiastic.
“What are you planning?” Alcina asks, more concerned than you had ever heard her before. Attempting to reassure her, you manage a small smile before explaining.
“Got scratched and slobbered on by a lycan. Whatever they have, it’s infectious. If I want to save my leg, or at least have a chance at surviving, I have to take measures to reduce the likelihood of an infection,” you say. Now Alcina is slowly stroking her thumb across your hand, eyes narrowed with concern. There’s a look on her face that you can’t quite parse, something she’s not saying. For now you ignore it and continue going over your plan. “The best thing would be to amputate. The tourniquet might have helped prevent the saliva from getting further into my body- and I do mean might- but I can’t keep it on forever. Problem is… I don’t want to lose it. God, I’m terrified of that, and with what we have in the castle I… I’d be more likely to die of shock than not. So, well, forget that idea.
“I’m just going to remove the wound. By making a bigger wound. It’s crazy, I know, but this will kill me if we do nothing. It will probably kill me if we do. The technical term is some shit like ‘de-bride-ing’?... No, debridement, I think. Except normally the poor fucker getting cut open is asleep for the procedure.” By the time you’re done, Lady Dimitrescu is looking at you with horror. Yeah, you had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the idea. “Look, if this is too much… if it’s not worth saving me, if you’d rather give me a quick death, I understand. If I were-”
“Don’t be foolish, dear. You will not die, not as long as something can be done about it,” Alcina replies, quickly, eager to stop hearing you talk about dying. It’s… strange to hear her sound so confident about saving you, even stranger to realize what she called you. As if reading your thoughts, she shifts in her seat, avoiding your gaze for a moment. Shyness didn’t suit her, and you imagined it was more about her finding the right words. When she speaks, she’s looking right at you again. “I have hesitated to tell you the truth, and now I find the world playing a cruel trick on me, trying to take that which I adore. But I don’t want to aggravate your stress right now. Please, think nothing of what I have said.”
Before you could reply, footsteps reached your ears, and soon enough Daniela returns. In one hand she holds a large pitcher of water. In the other? Several knives, of various sizes, one of which you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Cassandra playing with before. As soon as you see her your face lights up, glad to be able to start the procedure.
“Oh thank fuck- or, I mean, thank you, Lady Daniela,” you stutter, reaching out as she offers you the items. Thankfully Bela had already made room on the table at your side, where she had set the bottle of alcohol down. For a moment you had forgotten that she was there. Had she already known about her mother’s feelings? Based on her lack of reaction, you could only assume that she was well aware. “I’m gonna scream, B-T-dubs. Just, uh, cover your ears?” You offer, already holding your chosen knife (big enough to be effective, small enough to offer precision).
“So… you’re going to do this yourself? Didn’t think you had it in you, red. Try not to cut anything important. Wouldn’t want to have to clean that mess up,” Daniela teases. As soon as she’s finished she has to shift into a swarm, as Bela flat out throws a knife at her. For a moment you freeze, watching as Alcina rises to her full height, staring her eldest daughter down. Behind her, Daniela reforms, clearly using her mother as a shield. “I was just trying to relieve the tension, jeez. It’s like you think she’s already dead.”
“Don’t speak another word!” Alcina snaps, sending a frightening stare towards Daniela. You cough, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Meanwhile Bela is pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, clearly tired of dealing with her sister’s sense of humor. “No one will speak a word until this is finished, unless my dear needs something, understood?” Both the girls nod at that, neither feeling a need to risk any further ire.
“I’m just going to start working now,” you awkwardly chime, taking a deep breath before leaning in towards your injured leg. On closer inspection you can see a strange, dark residue in the wound. They’re specks, scattered along the length of it, and they seem more common the closer you look to the gash’s center. Gross, you think. Half curious, half checking for legitimate reasons, you bring your other hand to the cut and gently spread both sides apart. It hurts like hell, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming. But sure enough, the residue is practically solid at the deepest point of the wound. “Those lycans really should be on leashes.”
Out of the corner of your eye you can see Daniela exchange looks with Bela, but neither of them disobey their mother (yet). Shaking the thought away, you finally get to the brunt of the task at hand. Your hand moves slowly, reluctant to inflict such damage against its own body. As soon as the tip of the knife touches your skin, you start to doubt your ability to do this. It takes looking at Alcina, seeing the way she watches you with equal parts concern and tenderness, to remind you why you’re doing this. Death just wasn’t something you could accept right now; not after what she had said, what she had implied.
The knife is fantastically sharp. Hardly any pressure is needed before your flesh gives away, cells letting go of their neighbors like it was a casual affair. You start at the left side of your injury, digging down a little, trying to only go as deep as you needed to. Tears formed in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. As the first of many screams leaves your mouth, you turn and twist the knife, cutting to the right, then up. Like scooping the seeds out of a pumpkin. Fresh blood springs from the wound, starting to fill up the crevice. Quickly you discard the skin you removed by tossing it into the same bowl that Bela had put a bloody towel in earlier.
“Yes,” you shudder through gritted teeth, “this hurts so fucking bad. No, I don’t need someone to take over yet.” At this point neither of the present sisters are looking at you, seeming oddly uncomfortable at the sight of you cut up like this. Hadn’t they done worse to your fellow Maidens?... Whatever, the thought couldn’t last long when you still had work to do.
Next you take a fresh, damp cloth and dab at your injury, ignoring how it throbbed beneath your touch. Then you resumed cutting, forced to press the knife deeper in order to remove the spreading residue. If you had been a scientist, this would have been utterly fascinating to observe. Whatever had been in the lycan’s saliva was slowly eating at your flesh, but not outright dissolving it. No, it simply left the skin where it was, but killed and rapidly broke it down. Yes, it would have been fascinating, if not for the fact that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to outpace the bacteria.
With this in mind you force yourself to hold in your next scream, hoping to make it easier for you to focus. The knife continued to cut, going lower, setting nerves alight as it did. Your vision starts to blur, and for a few seconds you think you’re going to black out. Someone says something you don’t hear, and then suddenly there’s a hand on top of your own. When your vision clears you see Bela is responsible, her grip keeping you from dropping the knife. She doesn’t let go until you give her a clear nod. Even then, she seems reluctant to let you continue.
Around this time is when Cassandra returns. Her footsteps catch your attention (it’s your understanding that carrying objects is much harder in swarm mode), and you spare her a quick glance before getting back to work. A few moments later she’s placing a set of needles and a long spool of thread next to you. Ironically, they’re the same tools that you’ve used to repair and adjust Alcina’s dresses over the past year. Hopefully they work just as well on flesh, you think. Your next thoughts are canceled out by unbelievable pain. More cries leave your lips, and your hand starts shaking. Panic is settling in fast, your movements getting sharper, leading you to make a brash decision: Time to care less about precision and more about speed.
“Distract me, please,” you gasp between grunts. No one responds at first, and you know they need clarification. Speaking is getting harder by the second, but you do your best. “Brain can’t process many stimulants, same time. Just- fuck- trace skin around wound, touch hair, anything.” Somewhere between your semi-broken sentences and screams, Alcina gets the message. She’s moving closer, now, behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other rubbing gentle circles on your undamaged leg. Across from you Daniela is too busy pacing to help, though you can hardly blame her.
“Should I get the metal thing from the stove?” Cassandra asks, silently hoping that Dani hadn’t assumed someone else was going to handle that part. You’re still in too much pain to talk, so you half nod half grunt in response. Not bothering to say anything, the middle child takes off, swarm moving at what might be a new speed record.
As much as your hands are shaking, you still manage to cut away another strip of flesh, tossing it aside with even less care than before. This time Bela wipes the wound for you, practically reading your mind. The moment her hands are completely out of the way you start cutting again, crying out, throat shredded to pieces from all your screaming. Alcina sounds like she might be close to sobbing, but she doesn’t stop her movements, doing her best to distract you just like you had asked. Even Bela helps, now, tracing spots around your injury whenever she knows she won’t be in your way. The effect is minor, in the end, hardly making a dent in how much pain you’re processing.
If you survive this, though, you’re hugging every daughter as tight as you can and showering them with affection… but only after you finish doing the same for their mother.
“You are so brave,” Alcina murmurs next to your ear. It’s even clearer now how close she is to crying, her voice seconds away from cracking. Hearing her like this almost hurts as bad as the initial lycan attack did. “You are so strong. No other mortal could ever be your match. Do you understand, my dear? You are blessed, divine, and I love you so much.”
In any other setting, her words would leave you melting in her arms, radiating affection so strongly that you might as well have been radioactive. Instead, you are unable to respond, or even look her way. All you can do is press the knife to your skin again, showing your own feelings by destroying yourself for her.
The blade is starting to find more resistance, and you’re having to pause more often, spots appearing in your vision. Going faster only makes things worse, your hand threatening to slip. You’re determined to finish this, no matter what, but your need to control the situation is gradually making things worse. Alcina notices this before you do, and acts before you have a chance to protest.
“Bela, the knife,” she says, then tightens her grip on your waist. Your confusion shifts to panic as your arm is carefully, but forcefully, pulled away from your wound. “Can you finish the job?” It takes you a few moments to realize that Alcina isn’t talking to you. No, she’s speaking to her eldest daughter, who doesn’t hesitate to take the knife away from you. It’s so easy for her, between her strength and your weakness. “Don’t struggle. Let us finish this.”
Protests rise from your throat and die in your mouth. Pain flares harder now that Bela isn’t distracting you. Once more your vision goes dark, but this time there’s no pause, no hesitation. You are suffering, horribly, and the Dimitrescu family refuses to make you hurt longer than necessary. It’ll be over soon, you think, not knowing whether you refer to your pain or your life itself.
Something wet drops onto the back of your neck, then darkness overtakes you…
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“Damn those lycans, I should string Heisenberg up myself! They’re his responsibility, after all,” Lady Dimitrescu snarls, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes. Now that you’re unconscious, unable to hear what ails her, she feels free to voice her thoughts. “The damn things should never have come close to the path to the village.”
“What if she strayed from the path? Wouldn’t that explain it?” Bela suggests, even as her hands work to remove what seems to be the last piece of dead/infected flesh from your leg. She hates how the words feel in her mouth, hates suggesting that you of all people might have betrayed her mother’s trust. But it makes sense. After all, this whole mess, with you leaving the castle to retrieve a mysterious package, was all a test to see if you would try to run. It hadn’t been her idea, and Bela admitted to herself that she thought it was unnecessary.
“On the way back? Why would she bother getting the package if she intended to run?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, right as Cassandra returns. The middle child is practically juggling the metal spatula she’s carrying, irritated (not harmed) by the heat it produced. One of her brows perks up when she hears the conversation, but she keeps any thoughts she has to herself.
“Just a thought, mother, I didn’t quite believe it myself,” Bela chimes, after a pause. With that said she holds up her hand with pride, clutching between her fingers the last of the decaying flesh. The way the others react, one might have thought that a miracle had been performed. Daniela clapped her hands together, giggling a little, and finally stopped her pacing. “Don’t celebrate too much, now,” Bela reminded her, taking the spatula from Cassandra as she did. “There’s still plenty to do. It’s a good thing she’s not awake for this part.”
A good thing, indeed. She uses her fingers to spread the remaining skin a little, giving a quick examination, then deciding that she had successfully removed all remaining residue. Keeping her fingers where they were, she pressed the side of the spatula to your skin, putting the most pressure at the center of the wound. Three seconds passed, then she lifted her hand. A pause. She pressed it back into place, keeping a close eye on the affected area. This repeated several times, the gaps being necessary to prevent unintentional damage. Once the wound seemed properly closed she set the spatula aside.
“Is that it?... Did we save her?” Daniela asks, opting to finally sit down in a nearby chair. Something about her word choice makes both of her sisters scoff.
“I could sew it closed, as a precaution, but there’s no way I’d do it the way she had intended. It might be best to just give her time to rest, and see what she thinks when she gets back up,” Bela answers. For a moment her words hang in the air, but eventually Alcina gives a little nod and a hum.
“Very well. I shall carry her to my quarters, where she won’t be disturbed. Please, let one of the Maidens know to bring some food up this evening,” Alcina says, gently taking you into her arms as she does…
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BAD ENDING: It’s been six hours, with no sign of you waking up. Your other wounds had been examined, cleaned, and bandaged. Food had been carefully prepared and brought up to you, though it now remained on the bedside table, untouched. Alcina has gone to call Mother Miranda, intending to speak to her about the growing unrest of the lycans, as Heisenberg hadn’t answered his phone. For the first time since you returned you are alone. It is now, of all times, that you awaken. A gasp sends you into a coughing spree, forcing you into a sitting position. The space around you feels like it's moving, and your vision blurs. Blood spills from your mouth as you finally regain the ability to breathe.
Seconds later your vision clears, but what you see is enough to make you wish you couldn’t. The blood that spilled onto the sheets is a dark red… with even darker spots scattered throughout it. All at once you know what happened: Residue had hidden from you, or gone deeper than your wound, infecting you before you ever stood a chance. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but something deeper starts calling to you. Something older. Darker. It drags you to your feet, ignores the pain of your wounds, and sends you out the bedroom door.
Your mind is racing, thoughts never quite clear enough for you to understand. It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of your own movements. Was something else in charge, or were you operating on an infection powered autopilot? Answers weren’t coming, just bloodshed.
“You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet!” A voice calls out to you, making you turn to investigate. On the other end of the hallway is a maiden, one you instantly recognize. You’ve worked with her before, plenty of times, tag-teaming more tasks than you could count. She was like a sister to you. When she sees the blood staining your clothes, she gasps, then moves to support you. “Please, Lady Dimitrescu will be so upset if you-” her words melt into a blood curdling scream. For a moment you don’t understand.
And then you swallow, a chunk of hot meat slipping down your throat, and the scream dies down.
“What?...” You whisper, finally tasting the blood in your mouth, watching as your friend’s body falls to the floor. There’s a chunk of flesh missing from her neck, and the dots connect themselves in your head. You did that. Every part of you wants to scream, wants to cry out and beg someone to come kill you. Instead you fall to your knees, hard, uncaring. Your hands move themselves, grasping at the still warm corpse. Something has made you stronger, or at the very least removed the mental limits that kept you from destroying yourself. Flesh gives under your touch, tearing like paper, and you start crying as it reaches your mouth.
Footsteps approach, thundering fast, and you want to warn whoever it is. When you turn to look, you feel your hands let go of your meal. Your gaze meets that of a stunned Cassandra Dimitrescu, then drifts to the sickle in her hand.
“Kill me,” you growl, voice distorted, practically echoing. “Kill me now!” Not needing to be told a third time, Cassandra moves lightning quick, swarm-jumping forward before manifesting behind you, sickle dragging across your throat in one smooth motion. But it’s not enough. She realizes this, though, and slams her foot into your back, sending you tumbling forward. It’s enough to prevent you from countering, which gives her time to advance again, this time pulling a knife from her boot and driving it into the center of your back. When you scream, it’s not with your own voice, but that of a monster.
“Fucking fuck, what the fuck, red?” Daniella asks as she rounds the corner, eyes immediately landing on your bloodsoaked mouth. She’s quick to take in the scene, drawing a conclusion easily, even if it breaks her heart a little. Your vision fades as she approaches, and you know that it’s finally over. If only you had expired a few seconds earlier… because the last thing you hear is the startled cry of your would-be lover.
“No! No, darling, what happened-” Alcina finishes her sentence, but you do not hear it. You do not hear anything, anymore. You do not know it… but there will be hell to pay for your death.
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GOOD ENDING: When you awake, you find yourself in the softest sheets you’ve ever touched, a warm and familiar presence next to you. The first thing you see is Alcina’s sleeping face next to your own. She’s on her side, one arm around your waist, the covers pulled up to her hip. Warmth fills your chest as you take in the sight. For a few moments you just… appreciate this. Never before had you imagined that you would get to wake up next to the woman you loved so much. A sigh, one of bliss, leaves your lips. Slowly you move forward, gently placing a kiss to Alcina’s cheek. Seconds later her eyelids flutter open, and she tiredly takes you in.
“You’re… awake,” she murmurs, hardly awake herself. But her fatigue doesn’t last long. As soon as she’s fully processed the situation her eyes go wide. Then she’s pulling you closer, careful not to hurt you, and peppering little kisses over your face. “I’ve been so worried, dear. You scared us so much.” The hurt in her voice leaves you restless, making you curl up against her, desperate to soothe her worries. Moving hurts a little, but not enough to dissuade you from your goal.
“I’m sorry, love,” you say, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m okay, I’m alive, the plan worked out. You don’t have to fret for me anymore. I won’t leave you, I promise.” Slowly but surely, Alcina calms, exchanging kisses for softly running her fingers through your hair. There’s such love in her eyes that you can hardly believe you aren’t dreaming. “You’re amazing, Alcina. I could stay like this all day.”
“Maybe we should,” she offers, chuckling a little. Once again you give her a quick kiss, unable to resist the urge. “I should have never asked you to leave. I should have just trusted you.” The words give you pause, and you tilt your head in confusion. Realizing that you still didn’t know the full story, Alcina frowns. “The package is worthless, just a bundle of straw and a few rocks for weight. It was never what I cared about.”
Tension builds in your chest, and for a few seconds you have no idea how to react. It takes a minute for you to think, to connect the dots, but once you do it’s a tad bit easier to breathe. A scowl twists your lips as you think of what to say.
“If I had known that Heisenberg was forgoing his duties, I never would have sent you outside,” Alcina adds, the silence taking its toll on her.
“You shouldn’t have sent me either way,” you respond, bitterly, thinking of all that you had seen and heard on your journey. “I would have done anything to prove to you how I feel. There are other ways to show devotion- far less dangerous ways, at that.”
“I know, dear. You have every right to be angry… and watching you suffer has taught me all that I need to know,” Alcina says, still playing with your hair, trying to ease the tension. As upset as you about this recent revelation… it’s not enough to change how you feel about her, and you want her to understand that, fully and completely.
So you lean into her touch, let your eyes drift close for a moment, then softly place one of your arms around her as best as you can.
“We’ll need to talk about this more… just not right now. Right now, I need you, Alcina. I need to hold you, and be held by you, and just know that you’re here. That I’m here. That neither of us are going anywhere,” you say, resting your forehead against hers. “I need to feel safe, and your arms are the safest place I can imagine. Stay here with me?”
“It will be the easiest thing I have ever done.”
#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#alcina x reader#lady dimitrescu x reader#tw blood#tw self harm#tw cannibalism#blood blood blood oops#I wrote this instead of sleeping because my hands cannot be stopped#typeity type type type#sorry if the formatting is off#i'm trying the new editor or whatever#if it's fucked I'll fix it whenever I wake up
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House Warming - Bucky Barnes
Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count: 2.6 k
Warnings: fluff with a lil angst
A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta for the dividers! xoxox
Masterlist
It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.
“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”
“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.
The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.
From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.
“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.
“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.
“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?
“They add character.”
“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”
“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”
The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.
He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.
And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.
One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.
It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.
Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.
“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.
“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”
After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.
“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.
“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.
“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”
He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”
“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”
“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”
“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.
Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.
When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.
Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”
The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”
You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”
“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”
He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”
When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit indeed.”
He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”
You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”
He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.
“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”
You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”
Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.
That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.
The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.
He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.
“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.
Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.
“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”
You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.
You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.
The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”
Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.
Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”
You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”
“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”
“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.
“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.
“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”
He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.
You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.
“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff
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BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion
Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.
Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.
I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol
oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao
glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge
oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though
btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here
alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol
anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style
for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”
j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???
wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing
anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol
omgggggg
she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh
so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”
this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this
oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it
I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol
DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING
apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work
!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG
SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all
love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol
but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit
oh shit??!?
how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have
so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little
now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit
oh my god???
thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE
lmaoooo
“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor
anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that
OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG
fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation
OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU
THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT
HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL
(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.
tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)
[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true
meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh
the struggle is real y’all
(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)
lmao holy shit
All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit
so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now
fire is no one’s weakness
-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped
[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]
lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page
what an exaggerated fade to black lmao
-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit
[scrolls three more inches down] oh
yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still
anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol
dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate
[monkey puppet meme faces]
OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT
that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that
unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that
high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep
anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol
(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)
ffff
[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]
anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant
-- holy shit??
[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]
LOL WHAT
BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD
“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR
HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY
r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups
remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions
anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels
#bnha 316#hawks#takami keigo#lady nagant#midoriya izuku#all for one#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#manifesting 317 opening with a slightly modified version of my previous fantasy scenario lmao#'WHADDYA MEAN THEY BLEW UP THE NERD'#that's *his* job#sorry lol I kid I kid
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Fic Roundup (up to 9/26/21)
I'm gonna start collecting fics I've read recently to recommend them, because making trope lists takes too long and many fics fall by the wayside. Let me know if you like this new format!
The fandoms in this list are as follows: Marvel (SamBucky, HTP, SpideyPool, WinterHawk, WinterIron, Stony, Stucky, SpiderShield), DCU (Bane/Blake), Inception (Arthur/Eames), Teen Wolf (Sterek).
A * signifies a particular favorite (though I love all these fics)
Marvel
Sam/Bucky
double back by flowermasters (E, 12K, Post-Endgame, Time Loop, Time Travel)
Sam gets stuck in a time loop. In 1943.
Things could be worse, but they could certainly be better.
Companion piece here: quick time
I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Post-Endgame, E, 50K, Sam can talk to birds)
Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.
It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?
Rumlow/Bucky
**blueprints for a better world series by itallstartedwithdefenestration @astralhux (CATWS, Post-CATWS, Noncon, E, 115K, Dark Main Character)
When Pierce discovers the asset is no longer capable of getting himself hard during recreational use, he tells Rumlow to figure out what the problem is, and to fix it. The solution turns out to be more complicated than anyone expected.
I can't recommend this series enough
Peter/Wade
*Dead Men Walking series by doctorestranged @lazystrawberrymilkshakes (E, 235K, Identity Porn, Slow Burn)
When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.
All About Chemistry by TwiceBakedPotato @sedatedkoala (No Powers AU, M, CNTW, 74K, Teacher-Student Relationship, Slow Build)
After serving his 20 years in the Marine Corps, Wade Wilson is cashing in his GI Bill and going back to college. He feels like the old man on campus, but that doesn't matter. He likes his classes. He likes learning. And he especially likes his Chemistry professor with the messy brown hair.
Clint/Bucky
Making Me A Habit by Kangofu_CB @kangofu-cb (No Powers AU, T, 20K, Pet Store, Slow Burn, Pining, Misunderstandings)
Bucky is a disabled vet struggling with reintegrating into civilian life. He has a routine and a rhythm, and he doesn't like to let anything - big or small - disrupt it. That all changes the day Bucky finds himself inside CATastrophe, the local pet rescue, recovering from a panic attack in the back room of the shop.
He’s used to walking by the place, not visiting, but the next thing Bucky knows, he’s hanging signs and being used as a climbing tree for a bunch of freshly-acquired kittens. And he just...keeps going back. First for the kittens, then for the disaster shop owner who rescues actual kittens from actual trees and teaches archery as a side-gig, and eventually because he’s hopelessly in love.
(Clint was in love before Bucky ever walked in the door.)
*Nameless by AvaKelly (Post-CATWS, M, 101K, Time Travel, Time Loop, Slow Burn)
A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.
"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.
The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"
"I put it there."
Glitter, G-Strings and Other Mission Hazards by flawedamythyst @flawedamythyst (T, 16K, Undercover, Stripper Clint)
“Which is why you need me to shake my booty for cash,” said Clint.
“Precisely,” said Coulson. “You’re the only agent we have who wouldn’t need additional training in the skills of an exotic dancer to take on the mission, and we want to get someone in there as soon as possible.”
Clint nodded, shutting the file. “Okay, awesome. I’ll dig out my sequined g-string.”
“You’ll have full access to requisition any costumes you might need,” said Coulson.
A mission requires Bucky to be Clint's back-up as he goes undercover as a stripper, which gets more difficult with every new costume he comes out in.
Paternal Error by EVVS @skylarkevanson (Post-CATWS, T, 33K, Kid Fic, Established Relationship)
Bucky has never once thought of being a parent. Not since the Winter Solider happened.
Until he falls in love with Clint Barton. And that idiot just keeps collecting children for his flock.
Now Bucky has to pretend like he's good at parenting.
Bucky/Tony
Forms of Love by bear_bell (Post-CACW, E, 33K, Split Personalities)
Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.
Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.
Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.
Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.
Steve/Tony
While You Were Sleeping by betheflame @betheflame (No Powers AU, M, 65K, While You Were Sleeping AU)
It's been years since Steve Grant Rogers Drysdale has spoken to his twin, Ransom. So it was quite a shock when he was summoned to a hospital and found out that Ransom was in a coma.
Even more shocking? That Ransom is engaged. To Tony Stark.
Steve/Bucky
The Road Goes Ever On And On by PipGraham (Omegaverse AU, M, Noncon, Graphic Violence, 20K, Road Trip, Pre-Serum Steve, Past Domestic Violence)
When Brock's continued domestic abuse puts not only Steve's life in danger, but also that of his unborn pup, he flees into the night with just a small backpack of clothes and almost no money to his name.
Steve quickly runs into trouble as he tries to embark on a 3-day cross-country bus journey back home to New York City.
He meets a kind veteran when he most needs a helping hand.
Just Words by LadyRazzle (crimegimp) @ladyrazzle (Pre-CATFA, Soulmate AU, T, 2K, Fluff)
Inspired by that now legendary post: "soulmate AU where you wake up on your 18th birthday with the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body so you’ll know them when you meet them." Well what if they appear the moment you turn 18, rather than just the day? And what if by the time you turn 18, you'd already fallen in love?
Bucky wasn’t eager to discover what the words said. He already knew what he wanted them to say. He always had.
Peter/Steve
Forgetting It's There by spinstitcher (stygian) (NR, 8K, Crack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn)
“You’re Captain America,” he blurts out.
“What?” says Captain America, looking a little wide-eyed. He casts a nervous glance at the girl at the counter – he has nothing to worry about there, she’s rocking out to her iPod and could care less what they’re talking about – and says, “No, uh, Steve, it’s just, I’m Steve.”
“Right,” says Peter, and then because his brain-to-mouth filter had apparently been completely destroyed in the fight on Oscorp Tower: “Hey, your butt really is as tight as it looks on TV.”
DCU
Bane/Blake
7 Deadly Ass(as)sins by teacuphuman @teacuphuman09 (AU, E, 23K, BDSM)
Bane and Barsad own a sex shop and John needs a job.
Straws by Menirva (Bane/Blake/Barsad, AU, E, 38K, BDSM)
John works in a smoothie shop.
He has a knack, a second sense if you will, for being able to look at a person and know what they're going to order. It's not the most spectacular gift in the world but he likes being able to figure people out and he's never wrong.
Except for this scruffy asshole who is clearly just ordering the wrong thing to fuck with him.
How is he even finishing an extra-large?
Inception
Aurthur/Eames
Rough Trade by Whisky (whiskyrunner) @whiskyrunner (AU, E, 23K, Internalized Homophobia)
Arthur is an investment banker. He is professional and efficient. He's a halfway decent cook. He's totally independent and has been since the age of eighteen. Maybe he's tired all the time because he works about ninety hours a week which is twice what normal people do, but he's rich and he's competent at his job. He's almost thirty, and already a success.
And there are some things Arthur is not. For instance: Arthur is not gay.
Lucky by earlgreytea68 @earlgreytea68 (M, 37K, Kid fic)
Arthur finds a baby.
Teen Wolf
Stiles/Derek
Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress (Omegaverse AU, E, 112K, Secret Relationship, Enemies to Lovers kinda)
“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”
The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”
Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”
Cornerstone by Vendelin (Human AU, E, 83K, Marine Derek, Blind Stiles, Friends to Lovers)
Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.
Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach (AU, Graphic Violence, E, 76K, Captivity, Feral Derek)
"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.
The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope (Sports AU, E, 83K, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers)
Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.
But then he meets Stiles.
#fic rec list#sambucky#sambucky fic rec#htp#winterbones#winterbones fic rec#spideypool#spideypool fic rec#winterhawk#winterhawk fic rec#winteriron#winteriron fic rec#stony#stony fic rec#stucky#stucky fic rec#spidershield#spidershield fic rec#arthur x eames#arthur x eames fic rec#bane x blake#bane x blake fic rec#sterek#sterek fic rec#fic roundup
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Dinner With The Law
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female!Hopper!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, angst, kind of ooc!Billy?, bit o fluff
Words: 1,566
Summary: Billy’s dating Hopper’s other daughter, Y/n, and when Eleven accidentally reveals Y/n is spoken for, Hopper demands to meet the “lucky guy”. Billy Hargrove wasn’t exactly who he had in mind.
Taglist: @urie-bowie-mercury, @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @thewarriorprincessxo
Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist
“Are you sure?” Billy was usually the tough guy, but now he was a nervous senior with sweaty palms and pale skin. He looked like he’d seen a ghost or like he was about to faint. And it was all because he was having dinner with Jim Hopper. “I mean, what if he bans me from seeing you?”
“Billy, when have you ever listened to my dad? You’ve got a few speeding tickets here and there yet you do it again and again anyways.”
“That’s exactly why he’d tell me to break up with you!”
“Just because he says something doesn’t mean he can actually do it.” She rolled her eyes and waited for Billy’s response. His silence drew out a reaction of offence from his girlfriend, a scoff leaving her mouth. “You dick!”
“What?!”
“You’d let him make you do that?! Grow a fucking pair!” Y/n sat up from her leaning position, her head turning and arm sliding off the car door. She didn’t think before she swatted Billy up the back of his head.
“Jesus woman! What was that for?” He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, the other on the wheel. Billy grumbled under his breath as he drove, the air growing thick with tension. “Alright. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t let him take you from me-”
“If you broke up with me because he told you too, that’d be letting him take you away from me. Either way, he shouldn’t get away with it, and he won’t.”
“You’re right...” Billy sighed, “I’m sorry baby.” He glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road, sincere regret knitted in his scrunched brows.
“I- ...I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have hit you.” Wordlessly accepting each other’s apologies, their hands met on the console, fingers intertwining tightly. His thumb occasionally rubbed her hand softly, bringing a smile to her face every time.
“They’re here.” Eleven watched the window until Hop walked by, telling her to sit correctly and fix the curtains. She’d adjusted her position multiple times, finding loopholes in the “how to sit on furniture correctly” reprimands Hopper had given her.
“El! For the last time, that’s not-”
“Not how we sit.” She turned back around and got off her knees, standing and walking away from the table. “I know. But, they’re here.”
“And? We can just wait like normal people! Stalking your sister and her boyfriend from the window isn’t what I-” He went to fix the curtains but upon doing so, he got a view of what awaited his dinner table. “Is that-” Jim squinted, eyes suddenly doubling inside. “No. No. No! Noo!”
“What’s wrong?” Y/n frowned as she pushed the door open. “Dad?”
Hopper turned, facing his daughter and her boyfriend with a distressed face. “No! Not you!” His tone was slightly whiney, causing a concerned yet slightly amused expression to slide onto Eleven’s face.
“Excuse me? Dad, are you alright?” Y/n turned to Eleven, who shrugged in return.
“Nope. No. Nada. Dinner’s cancelled.”
It hit her quicker than Billy’s car’s top speed. “Dad. He’s having dinner with us. You wanted to meet him, you deal with it.” Hopper clenched his jaw, staring at the couple before walking outside. Billy began looking for words, suggesting they just go back, but Y/n cupped his cheeks and kissed him softly. “Wait here. I’ll go talk to him.”
“No, it’s fine-”
“Wait here.” He nodded, planting his feet without another word. His eyes followed Y/n until she was out of the cabin. Billy popped his knuckles out of nervous habit, turning his head and giving a nod of acknowledgement to Eleven. She stared for a second then got up and went to her room, leaving Billy standing alone awkwardly.
“Dad. Give him a chance.”
“But- That’s Billy Hargrove, Y/n.”
She nodded, lips pressed together tightly as she lifted her brows. “Yep. I can see that. I am dating him after all.”
“He’s bad news.”
“So was Eleven before you took her in! Taking her in could’ve gotten us killed but you did it anyway! Billy dating me won’t get us killed or put in any danger in the slightest, but you decide he’s too much of ‘bad news’?”
Hopper shook his head. “Leave El out of this.”
“Then let Billy have a chance!”
“No. End of story.” He paced in front of her, back and forth with his arms crossed.
“Dad.”
“No.”
“Dad.”
“No.”
She inhaled sharply and shut her eyes. Some tears threatened to spill but were denied by her lack of will to show weakness to her father. “Please. Just... He’s not as bad as you think he is. Sure, he’s got some factors you aren’t particularly fond of, but he’s a teen for Pete’s sake! I’m a teen! We’re going to be a little rebellious whether you like it or not!”
Hopper couldn’t deny a word she said, his own rebellious-phase in his teen years full of teen-angst going against anything and everything he could think to say. He stopped pacing, facing his oldest daughter with a sigh of surrender. “One chance. He fucks it up-”
“Thank you!” Y/n bounded forward and wrapped her arms around her father, the smile on her face bigger than any other he’d seen. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise, he won’t let you down!” She pulled away and raced into the house.
For the second time, he couldn’t speak. His brows and eyes held surprise, arms in the air- resting in hug position. As he blinked, the world returned to him. Jim processed the events; they happened so quick, it felt like one fluid motion, before walking back to the house without hurry.
Dinner was...alright. Billy kept his eyes trained on his plate as he tried his hardest to ignore the burning glare of Hopper that never left his form. Hopper ate slowly, both exhaling and stabbing his food dramatically as well as increasing the tension that thickened throughout the cabin. Y/n eventually grew tired of it.
“Dad!” Hopper blinked for what felt like the first time since they’d sat together. “Do you have anything you wanna ask Billy?”
“Yes, actually. How many girls have you been with?”
Eleven dropped her fork on the ground with a loud clatter and Billy practically choked on his food, coughing as Y/n patted his back. She glared at her father and shook her head. “Besides questions like that.”
“Fine. What’re your plans after high school?”
“Well um...” He recovered from his cough attack, fist hitting his chest a couple times while he cleared his throat. “I’m thinking about moving back to California.”
“What would you do in California?” He said the state syllable by syllable, as if he were a kindergartner just learning to say the word, eliciting a criticizing furrow of Y/n’s brows.
“Teaching Y/n how to surf and showing her around. Probably applying for some collages...I’m not sure, sir.”
“Sir?” Hopper laughed. His chuckles died out when he noticed the three staring oddly, feeling awkward and clearing his throat to brush it off. “So uh- Y/n? You’re moving to California? When did you plan on telling me?”
“I dunno. After graduation? The same time I planned on telling you I was dating Billy.”
“Sorry.” Eleven felt a twinge of guilt after her sister spoke, eyes moving down in shame.
“Don’t worry, El. I’m not mad at you.” She reached for her sister’s hand, giving her a small smile when her eyes lifted back up to hers. Eleven mirrored her as a small bit of confidence entered her body.
Hopper brought his eyes back to Billy as his daughters brought theirs to him. Each question he asked made Billy’s leg bonce under the more and more, an anxious habit he’d picked up over time. “You get good grades, Hargrove?”
“Yes sir.”
“Pay for your own stuff?”
“Yes sir.”
“Staying out of too much trouble?”
“Er- Yes sir.”
“Plan on tying the knot, staying loyal to my daughter?”
Y/n’s water made a noise as she choked mid sip. “Dad! Don’t put him on the spot like that-”
“It’s okay.” Billy rubbed her back and nodded reassuringly. “If we decide we want to go all the way, then yes sir. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, I do, but we still have to make it through high school.”
“Break her heart, Hargrove, and I’ll break you. Don’t care if you’re in California, Hawkins, Mars- I’ll kill you if you hurt her.”
“I know sir. I’ll take care of her, I promise.”
He leaned back, sliding into his seat more as he nodded slowly. “Good. You better.”
Billy waited for more questions, but Hopper went back to his dinner. He exchanged confused glances with Y/n. The air was still holding a bit of tension, the only sound being forks scraping against plates, making it feel a bit awkward. “Is that all, sir?”
Hopper lifted his brows. “Do you want there to be more? By all means, I’ve got many questions and opinions I can expand on. Like, your-”
“No- no sir.”
“Then stop being a little sissy and eat your food.”
Billy nodded quickly, however, his hands remained on his lap. “Thank you sir!” Hopper’s arm rose from beside his plate and supported his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Eat the damn food, suck up!”
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x hopper!reader#hopper!reader#dacre montgomery#dacre montgomery x reader#stranger things#jim hopper x reader#jim hopper x daughter!reader#jim hopper x hopper!reader#hopper!daughter#eleven x sister!reader#eleven hopper#jane hopper#jim hopper#hopper#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#stranger things reader insert#stranger things x hopper!reader#stranger things x hopper!daughter#reader insert#imagine#x reader#all readers#zodiyack
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why do you like angela kang from caryl shipper perspective? what did make you to have faith in her regarding caryl ship and it's spinoff?
I think I should start with a warning - I do not trust any of TWD writers to deliver in-depth nuanced storytelling that is not plagued with missed opportunities. With that said, I didn't have much faith when Angela Kang took over as a showrunner, but she completely changed my mind with s9 and s10. WHY? Because she proved she is not Scott Gimple. It's that simple.
This got a bit long... so more after the jump...
Excuse me, Mr. Gimple, thank you so much for The Grove and No Sanctuary. But he is this show's worst showrunner ever. Congrats. He basically picked every thing I loved about this show and destroyed it, painfully slowly but surely. He was just jumping from one comic plot point to another, and he understands nothing of basic human interaction: all dialogue is delivered in riddles, lots of pointless philosophic dissertations that led nowhere, and he gave us less and less Caryl content. He turned one of the best chemistry/bond on the show into a meaningless 1 min interaction in s8! It takes talent! He took the joy out of watching anything TWD related, and I basically took one long break from fandom.
Then, Angela came along and she truly breathed life into a dying show. Characters started talking like normal people and interacting a lot more lol. Even though, she hit us with CZ, it was hard not to notice how Daryl had a major role in Carol's decision, and to a certain point, in Henry's life too. And that was not glossed over - Daryl became sort of a “mentor” to her child; and it was shown how he would do absolutely anything for Carol, and to keep her child safe. Then, he was the one there for her when Carol’s world came crashing down once again. Daryl was the one Carol leaned on, literal and metaphorically. She needed him around.... CUE to jealous!Zeke. And s10 happened, do I need to go over everything that happened in s10... you know! Running away together, Carol’s dream, talking about a future, look at the flowers ep.... I could go on and on...
I guess this is getting a bit long so I’m gonna go straight to the point - it seems pretty obvious to me where Angela’s narrative is going, and with every Carol and Daryl interaction we get more and more hints of what’s to come. Yeah, Caryl is coming! And it felt like the long journey started when she took over (season 9), and the train was going full speed ahead in season 10, until it was basically derailed by the pandemic, and then the announcement of TWD ending and the Caryl spinoff.
Of course, that journey is not without obstacles like Carol and Daryl’s deep-seated trauma that comes from both being victims of abuse, and their insecurities: the feeling they are not good enough, and feeling like they failed to save so many people they cared about along the way. I guess I will sound cheesy when I say this, but Carol and Daryl both have to learn to love themselves for who they are, before they can fully love each other the way they deserve to be loved and, finally, be happy together.
THAT’s what I think Angela’s getting at. Of course, there’s drama and angst and other possible romantic interests. Do I like or agree with some of her creative choices? NO. Of course, NOT. Like FUCK “leafy tea” and her waterboarding kink! Specially now, when it seems like Angela is just biding her time by delivering extra drama to drag out that Caryl resolution because the original plan (for Caryl to leave together at the start of s11) had to be changed. It can be frustrating. HOWEVER, I do want to give Angela a chance to finish this narrative before being too harsh on her. The show is ending! We don’t even have to wait that long to see where she is going with all of this.
WHY do I have faith in Angela for the spinoff?? Cause of everything I’ve seen in s9 and s10. We had some of the shippiest Caryl scenes ever. She did that. She brought the Caryl bond back, when it had been forgotten for what felt like too long. Also DIVERGED. That is the trope-ish shit ever! and Carol and Daryl are basically separated the whole episode. Angela has been pretty clear when it comes to understanding Carol + Daryl = SOULMATES. It may be a bumpy road but, no matter where it takes us, we know it’s a dream destination - CARYL SPINOFF!
#caryl#caryl positivity#QUESTIONS#this is not a Gimple friendly blog sorry#but this is a Kang friendly blog#happy saturday#tomorrow carol and daryl are back again!#can't wait
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Memories
Part three to Home
Suna x fem reader
Atsumu x fem reader
Tags: still angst, light fluff, just a lot of Suna simping.
AN// let me know if you want me to continue the story.
Part Two: Silence
Part Four: Chance Encounters
You were the most beautiful girl Suna had ever seen. When he saw you that first day of school it was like the clouds in his normally dreary day parted and he could feel the sun. You weren’t in the same class much to his dismay. That didn’t stop the middle blocker from searching for your face in the crowds of the halls or the cafeteria. Though it was rare he stilled catch some glimpses. In those moments a war waged in his mind part of him wanted to go introduce himself, he wanted to know your name. To just be around you. But another side of his brain forbid that. Stating that he was fine were he was he would just interrupt your day. What would he even say to you. Hi I’m Suna I’ve been watching you since the first and even though I know next to nothing about you I can’t get you out of my head..... yeah no. He’d just sit back and wait for opportunity to knock. Suna curses himself for his laziness. He can’t describe how his heart stop the day his friend brought you to practice and introduce you as his girlfriend.
Though he kept his composure he felt as though the air was stolen from his lungs. This is the closesest he had ever to been to you and it was overwhelming to say the least. You stood there at Atsumu’s side smiling and greeting the team memebers and when your attention drew to Suna he realized his favorite thing about you was your eyes. You beautiful (e/c) eyes shown with so much light and happiness. When you smiled you smiled with your eyes, always getting this cute little crinkle. He shook his head at these feelings. You were taken and by one of his friends no less.
From that moment on you presence was always close by joining the boys for lunch or stopping by practice with little snacks you had made the team. Suna almost resents how easy he gets along with you. How simple it is to fall into a banter with you. He hates how calming it is when you’d sit next to him and laugh as you showed him some meme. He wanted to be annoyed with you ever time you’d put your foot down and insist he let you wrap his finger after a bad block. But he couldn’t you were just such a caring person. He’d try and give you some petty insults, maybe if he caused a rift between the two of you he’d feel better, maybe then if there was more space between you he’d feel less guilty for always being enraptured by you. But you’d always snap back with something just as clever or petty. You could go toe to toe in trading insults but both of you knew neither of you meant it. You’d always break out into that breathtaking smile after a few rounds of back and forth. He realized soon that he’d much rather keep you in his life as a friend even if he could never have you because at least he’d still see that smile. At least as your best friend he’d still see your eyes shine bright and he could take a small pleasure in knowing he brought some of that happiness.
“You need to calm down,” Suna turned to see Osamu taking the seat on the bench next to him.
Suna's hands run through his hair gripping the roots in frustration as he let out a yell.
“How the fuck am I supposed to be calm, she could be hurt or missing, and that ass is just sitting there! Two weeks! Lord knows what could have happened by now.” Hes shaking part of him wants to go back up and give Atsumu a few more licks but he knows no good will come from it.
“YN is a grown woman and she’s smart and strong and you know damn well she’d bitch you out right now for thinking she couldn’t handle herself,” the former ace chuckled.
“I’d much rather her here bitching cause at least then she’d be here,” he groaned rubbing his hand down his legs trying to let out some of his nerves. “Did you know?” He asked the grey haired twin.
Samu gave his quick glare of offense. “Absolutely not believe me if I’d known I would have been the one to deck him , you just beat me to it.”
“The last i heard from her was her birthday, maybe if I’d had stopped by and brought the Onigiri myself I could have been there for her,” he sighs.
“We’ll find her don’t worry,” his friend pats his back, “and then you can finally confess,”he smiles.
“I’m that obvious huh,” he sighed.
Samu let a loud laugh “ OH PLEASE we all knew, well maybe not YN she can be kinda blind ya’know,”
Suna shook his head laughing. He has to see you.
They returned home today from nationals. The loss to Karasuno was really starting to sink in now that was Suna was home sitting in his room alone the house quiet. He laid there berating himself for balls he failed to block. If I had just done better maybe my team would still be playing. Maybe - he was disrupted from his thoughts by the chime of the door bell. His parents were out of town this weekend. They had assumed like many Inarizaki would still be out in Tokyo fighting for first place. It was fine though Suna was used to being alone. But that just confused him more as he made his way to the door. Who could possibly be here. All he can say is he’d never except to open the door and see you standing there. Like always you stole his breath away.
“What yer not gunna let me in,” you teased “and to think I brought you snacks!” He just realized now she was carrying a grocery bag that looked pretty heavy.
“Give me that ya Dummy,” he said taking away the snacks, he stepped to the side allowing her entry.
“I figured you were hungry, but try to save me some,” she giggled. Suna just rolled his eyes as she took a seat on his couch.
“What are you doing here?” He questioned taking his seat beside her making sure to leave a respectable distance. Though he wants nothing more than to hold you close. He dismisses the thought as he rummages threw the goodies waiting for your response. He smiles seeing the package of milk bread you bought. He took it out and tossed it to you knowing it was your favorite. You smile and give a slight nod as a thank you.
“I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone after the game, I know your probably thinking a whole bunch of nonsense right now aren’t ya?” She looked at him with a solem but knowing look. He cursed how well you knew him. Seeing as he had been doing just that before your arrival. His heart squeezed at the thought of you wanting to comfort him. It almost gives him a slight hope. What about Atsumu, he lost that game too.
“Why aren’t you with you boyfriend, he’s probably taking it harder than me,” he asks knowing he might ruin this little fantasy he has here with you. He sees a sad look cross your face at the mention of the setter. It’s not a look Suna wants to keep seeing.
“You’re right about that, Tsmu’s having a tough go of it,” she gave a soft smile. “But he said he didn’t want my pity and asked I leave,” Suna could see your eyes get a little glassy thinking back to the conversation.
“He’s an Ass.” The middle blocker states plainly.
“He’s just got a lot of emotions right now and wants his space, it’s okay.” But Suna can see your hurt. He knows it wont do any good to keep talking about it.
“His loss, now I get all of the snacks,” pulling out a bag of chips. “Want to watch a movie?”
That’s how the evening went the both of you curled up on the couch Suna had brought down some pillows and blankets and he wouldn’t lie he loved seeing you wrapped in his comforter. You went on and on about this anime you started and you nearly died when he agreed to let you show it to him, pumping your fist in the air going off about your favorite character and how he’s totally going to love him. Suna looks over at you and your wearing the biggest smile eyes wide with joy. This is will always be his favorite moment he thinks.
He’s right that moment still sticks out in his mind. He has plenty of great memories but that one right there is his favorite. He’s been thinking back on a lot of his memories of you lately.
It’s been seven months since your birthday and no one in your former circle new anything about where you were. You hadn’t talked to anyone. Your number was no longer in service and all of you socials have gone silent.
After a couple of days of looking for you Suna was ready to go to the Police and report you missing, ready to call every hospital and pray you are safe. At this point that’s all that matters to him. He can’t bare to think about anything bad happening to you but it’s hard to keep his mind out of the dark place. Osamu was the one to stop him. Luckily they had gotten in touch with their former captain and while Kita was sorry to hear about the situation and very disappointed in his junior for his actions. Every one was upset with Atsumu for his actions. Kita was gladly willing to help in the search. Still being in their home town he was able to pay your parents a quick visit. And while he was happy he could inform them both that your parents had heard from you the other day so your fine. That was all your parents could tell him, stating that you had requested to keep your privacy not wanting to talk to anyone. So while they knew the biggest detail they still knew nothing.
It hurt Suna the most. How could you just cut him off like that. You were the most important person to him how could you not know that. He fretted. He knows your hurting but why did you have to cut all of them off most importantly him. Part of him was so incredibly angry how could you not even say goodbye to him. Did his friendship really mean that little to you. But another part of him understood that he couldn’t possibly know what you are going through. All he knew is how much he missed your smiling eyes. He would give everything to see you again.
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#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#hq#haikyuu angst#haikyuu atsumu#haikyuu suna#atsumu x reader#atsumu x y/n#atsumu angst#atsumu x female reader#suna x reader#suna x you#suna x y/n#suna rintarou#atsumu miya#suna angst#atsumu is an ass#suna is a simp
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Sovereign Talks (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader)
Fandom: Resident Evil
Genre: Bit of angst sandwiched between two pieces of fluff
Rating: T for language
Notes: Another partially/selectively mute reader story! Again, this is somewhat self indulgent, essentially being a self-insert story with edits to make it better for a wider audience. PS Daniela says some stuff that's kinda insulting, though it's out of misunderstanding rather than poor intentions, and she tries to make up for it. Also, some of the descriptions of the reader's muteness might not make sense to everyone, as I'm essentially describing how it feels for me, personally.
Summary: Daniela's favorite servant is sweet, charming, eager to please, all the things she wants from a romantic partner. But there's one detail she's never quite understood. An argument, a discussion, an inevitability.
Try as you might, it was nigh impossible to please your employer. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong, and Daniela Dimitrescu was more than pleased to point it out to you. At least her intentions weren’t severe. It didn’t really bother her if you missed a spot while dusting, or if you accidentally stumbled upon a ‘private’ conversation. What mattered to her, at the end of the day, was having material to tease you with, or ‘bargain’ with. She’d approach you slowly, musing out loud about your chores. Then she’d point out a flaw, smirking ever so slightly, before placing a finger beneath your chin. You’d make awkward eye contact, desperate to get out of the situation.
And then she’d tell you exactly what she wanted from you.
Most days it was simple enough. Or at least it had been at the start, when she first sought you out. ‘Carry these books for me’, she’d say, beckoning you to follow her. ‘Make a copy of this poem so I can return the book to Duke’, she’d command. Every single time you were powerless to refuse. Hell, you couldn’t even say anything if you wanted to. So you did as she asked. In time, you came to realize the truth behind her actions, the center of her motivations: She wanted to spend time with you.
You had been baffled, at first, to connect the dots in such a way. But Daniela made no attempt to hide her feelings, letting her touches linger on your skin, smiling without any cruelty when you were near. Once, she had even covered for you after you broke a vase. When you had tried to protest, hands waving, mouth refusing to speak, she had shrugged you off with a simple ‘you are worth the price’. Ever since then, the two of you had been rather close. Sure, she had never officially asked you on a date, but she had held your hand while the two of you read. And she had held you, swaying back and forth, as music played in a distant room. Then there were the times she caught you in the corridor, pressing you against the wall for a quick kiss… or a long one, that is. Certainly that meant something? Otherwise you’d look quite silly, blushing as hard as you tended to.
Eventually your concerns subsided considerably. It took a long, difficult conversation, however, and an argument you’d never forget…
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“Have you read Crier’s War yet?” Daniela asked, looking at you over her own book. The two of you were in her personal study, near the library, lounging in peaceful quiet. Well, it had been quiet. At her question you glance up, ensuring you made eye contact before shaking your head no. “I think you’d like it. Impossible love between two people from vastly different cultures, who start out opposed… sounds familiar, hmm?” This time you nod, laughing a little under your breath. Then you’re returning to your novel, oblivious to the way your partner is watching you, her eyes narrowed. When she catches your attention once more, it’s with a question you had hoped she would never ask. “Why don’t you talk?”
Trying to hide your discomfort, you practically bury your nose in your book, refusing to look up at Daniela. In response she grabs your notepad, slowly sliding it closer to you. For every second of silence she moves it another centimeter. With a slight groan you give in, snatching it from her hands, but sending her a glare as you do. Quickly you grab your pen and scrawl her a note. Not an answer, rather a question of your own.
“Why does it matter?” Clearly that wasn’t what she was looking for, as she leans back and gives a groan of her own.
“Seriously? I’m just curious. You can laugh, groan, make other, nice little noises… I just want to know how you work,” Daniela explained, frowning all the while. Admittedly, you understand where she’s coming from. But that didn’t mean that you were terribly comfortable with this conversation. In fact, it’s a subject you’ve been dreading ever since the two of you started ‘dating’. How exactly were you supposed to explain your condition? Especially without being able to talk directly through it?
“It’s complicated,” you write, angling the paper so Daniela can read it from her side of the table. But she only spares it a quick glance, before staring hard at you again. “Fine, babe. My mouth feels like static. My tongue is heavy, and trying to talk is like walking when both your legs are asleep. There’s never not a lump in my throat.” Now she’s reading attentively, frown vanishing, replaced by a confused expression. Shifting awkwardly, you internally pray that she doesn’t have any follow up questions. Alas, there are no gods on your side this day.
“Did something happen? Or were you… born like this?” Daniela asked, watching you closely. Frustrated, you give her a pleading look, hoping that she’d get the message and back off. Instead she doubles down. “We could arrange for a doctor to come out here, if that’s what you need. All you have to do is tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t expect you to understand. It’s a multifaceted issue, and-” you have to turn the page to continue writing at this point- “a very personal one. But if you must know, it has to do with my anxiety.” There’s a pause, and for a few seconds you think the conversation is over. The relief that floods your chest only lasts a single moment. Then you’re face to face with Daniela, who’s leaning across the table, eyeing you with an expression you can’t make sense of. Now your heart is racing, leaving you trembling.
“So… it’s not a matter of whether or not you can talk at all? It’s a choice?” Daniela questioned, sounding aggravated. Instantly you’re shaking your head, scowling at her interpretation of your words. “What, you’re saying you can’t even relax enough to talk around me? Your fucking girlfriend?” This was exactly the sort of thing you had been worried about. How could you expect Daniela to understand the way your mind locked your jaw in place? How could she ever realize how terrifying the whole castle was?
“Calm down and let me elaborate, please,” you write, as fast as you can. But Daniela yanks your notebook away from you, tossing it to the side. All you can do is stare at her in shock. This was more than just a misunderstanding, this was her actively sabotaging your only reliable method of communication.
“You want me to calm down? Can’t you see why I’m upset? I just found out my partner isn’t comfortable around me. We could have been talking all this goddamn time! Why haven’t you told me this before? Why haven’t we worked on this?” Daniela was practically yelling now, and both of you had risen to your feet. You’ve backed away a meter or so, only for her to close the space between you, one hand cupping your cheek. No matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to look her in her eyes. “C’mon, please,” she whispered, voice barely audible. Tears are starting to cloud your vision. “Say something. Anything.”
Wordlessly, you pull yourself from her grasp, too overwhelmed to do anything other than let your feet carry you out of the room. Half to your relief, half to your misery, Daniela doesn’t lift a finger to stop you.
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Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since you ‘talked’ to Daniela. Ever since, she had been avoiding you, and you her. Hell, for three days you struggled more than usual to communicate with anyone because you hadn’t dared to go back for your notebook. In the end someone had found you a new one. It didn’t quite feel the same though, considering your normal one had been a gift… a gift from the very person who had taken it away from you. For two weeks it had felt like every single thing was another reminder of your loneliness. You wanted desperately to fix your situation, but had no clue where to even begin. Until an irritated Cassandra hatched a devious plan, that is.
You weren’t privy to the specific details of her scheme, and could only guess as to her motivations (presumably being annoyed by Daniela’s sulking). All you really knew was that one moment you were following the middle child, supposedly to assist her with organizing something, and the next you were being shoved in an unfamiliar room. Inside, Bela was trying to stall Daniela, making up a ridiculous excuse for her to be there. As soon as you entered, the eldest daughter made a beeline (flyline?) towards the exit. Before either you or your girlfriend could process what was happening, the door had been shut and locked, trapping the two of you within.
“What the fuck?” Daniela asked, temporarily ignoring you in favor of pounding on the door. It didn’t budge, unsurprisingly, but someone outside did yell in response. Not that you could make out what the muffled voice was saying. “Ugh, I swear I am going to kill them for this.” Unable to get out, she finally turns to look at you. In an instant the anger drains from her face, replaced with a bittersweet smile. There’s enough tension in the room to weigh the corners of your lips down. It’s getting harder to breathe, and you can’t quite look Daniela in the eyes. “Hey. Hey, c’mon, if they’re going to be assholes, we might as well make the most of it, right?” She asked, voice a million times softer than you would have expected, considering your previous conversation. With that she moves to sit down, gesturing for you to join her.
“Mmm?” You ‘say’, really just making a confused humming sound. For once, you do want to talk. More than any other time you’ve wanted to. But your tongue was caught in the bear trap your teeth represented, preventing almost any sound from escaping. Still, this is a side of Daniela that you do not often see, with how prideful she tended to be. All it takes to get you to move is for her to pat the spot next to her. Then you’re shifting, blushing hard as you lower yourself onto the couch. Not quite ready to meet her gaze, you stare at your thumbs, twiddling them like an anxious child.
“Bela seems to think that I’ve made a fool of myself in front of you,” Daniela mused, more to herself than to you. One of her hands slides towards you, however, eagerly intertwining her fingers with your own. After two whole weeks of isolation… it’s an amazing feeling. “I said something stupid. It’s been driving me mad, and I have no clue what to do about it. Fuck-” she flinches as she speaks, eyes clamping shut- “I just want to fix this. I want you to feel good around me. I want you to feel the same way I do. More than anything, I want to be your safe haven.”
Your eyes meet, finally, as warmth floods your chest. Words fail you, as they are wont to do, so you leave them behind. Instead you reach for your stars- the body of your girlfriend, pulling yourself into her arms. Even as tears drip down your cheeks, you are smiling softly, overwhelmed by the embrace. Soon enough you can feel Daniela rubbing soft circles into your back with her fingers. She presses a gentle kiss to the side of your head, enjoying the hug too much to pull back even the slightest bit.
“Is there anything I can do? Anything to make you more comfortable?” She asked, for a moment not even realizing the difficulty you would have with responding. Finally connecting the dots, she changes the position of her arms, ensuring that you could stay in her lap while still being able to gesture with your hands. Instead of replying, your first concern is to gently cup your girlfriend’s cheek. Then you place a kiss on her forehead. “You’re my everything, you know that, right?” Daniela whispered, sounding almost in awe. Suddenly you’re possessed by a rush of courage, clearly bolstered by her affection, and you move without thinking. You lean back in for another kiss, hand moving to the back of her head for stability.
Both of you are smiling now, even as your kiss gets more intense, the two of you pressing against each other as best as you can. One of Daniela’s hands runs itself through your hair, before taking it in a loose grip. All you can think about is how right this feels. Your heart is racing, especially as your girlfriend switches to an open mouth kiss, letting her tongue slide across your lips. It catches you off guard, and you need to pull back to catch the breath she had so eagerly stolen. Even then you swear you can feel her pulse pounding just as hard as yours is.
“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” Daniela murmured, embarrassed, worried that you had stopped for a very different reason. In response you shake your head a little, then practically smother her face in tiny kisses. She’s giggling at that, grinning, all of her anxiety fading away. Most of yours does too. Everything feels perfect. So much so, in fact, that you feel something you haven’t felt in almost an entire year: The loosening of your jaw muscles. Clarity unstiffens your tongue, making age-old static clear up. Can I…? You wonder, wanting so desperately to use this opportunity as best as you can. After all, who knew when you’d ever be this comfortable within the castle again. Hell, the thought alone makes you more nervous, and you struggle to think of something, anything, to say.
“L-l… Love,” you stuttered, barely getting the syllable out, mouth feeling incredibly dry, mind racing, hating how it sounds because holy shit you haven’t talked in a year and was Daniela going to hate your voice and forget all about what you were saying and ruin the moment or worse was she going to hate you or thoughts thoughts pounding in your head like a hurricane, because because because-......................... Anxiety, above all else, was an asshole. One that had prevented you from hundreds of conversations, and limited a thousand more. Now, moments after finally speaking, your mind is on the brink of a tear-worthy breakdown. But you’ve said your piece, and by God has it been received.
“Yes, absolutely, fuck baby, I love you so much!” Daniela cried, equally overwhelmed, for a far different reason. She’s holding you as close as she can, burying her face in your neck. Likewise you rest yourself against her, letting your eyes drift shut, happy beyond description. There were still things you had to talk about, yes, and you would once more have to rely on your trusty notebook. Daniela had a lot to learn, to understand, but this was a start. More than that, it was the first step after the mending of a broken bone. Everything to come would be far, far easier, a labor of love done fearlessly.
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“Should we open the door now? Or at least unlock it?... How long does it take two idiots to stop being mad at each other?” Cassandra asked, leaning against the hallway wall. Meanwhile Bela had her ear to the door, straining to hear what was going on within. Sure, she had gone along with her younger sister’s plan, but she hadn’t been entirely convinced that it wouldn’t end in disaster. Then again, so far so good. No yelling, no (loud) crying, just some quiet words from Daniela. Maybe they’re working things out, Bela thought, starting to smile. And then she heard something she’d never forget…
“Yes, absolutely, fuck baby, I love you so much!”
“We are not opening that door,” Bela replied, suddenly, her ears burning red. She didn’t know how things had gone from so quiet to so potentially dirty in such a short amount of time, and she did not care. Without even a hint of an explanation, she turned to leave, desperate to get certain mental images out of her head...
#daniela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu x reader#resident evil: village#re8 village#yes the ending is a bit of a joke#ps i know it might not be everyone's cup of tea#especially since the reader does end up saying something#i went back and forth on that part for awhile#but again this is really self indulgent#and personally it worked better for me??#like i can occasionally force myself to say something even when my mouth isn't cooperating#and if anyone can make me do that it's someone i love#like my best friend who i kind of also loved romantically at one point#this is a literal example#anyway enjoy
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diamond maknae | realizations.
pairing: min yoongi x diamond maknae!reader
fandom: bts
warnings: 8th member of bts!reader ; maknae!reader ; sex ; language
genre: smut ; fluff ; angst
word count: 1.8k+
summary: this was bound to happen eventually, but now that it did... how will you two handle the aftermath?
a/n: asdfghjkl goodbye, I love them, that’s all I can say (also, so glad you sent that request in yesterday, bc this story was almost finished lol)
Whenever you had a show, you were usually focused to the core. Your thoughts consisted of nothing but lyrics, dance moves and facial expressions. But today simply wasn't one of those days.
You stood in a hallway, your eyes staring ahead of you and your brain barely even realizing that there were other idols – some of those your friends – passing by and greeting you.
Whatever you were thinking about had you transported into a different world altogether.
“Hey,” Jimin's hand on your shoulder finally made you snap out of it, shaking your head a little and then looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows.
“Huh?”
“Aren't you feeling well? You seem.. off.”
That's because you were. But this wasn't something that he could help you with, much less was it something that you wanted to share with him. So you just faked a smile and nodded.
“Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”
It was a good excuse. After all, you had to get up at 3AM this morning and you went to bed extremely late. So good of an excuse that Jimin accepted it with a nod and turned his attention back to Namjoon.
All of your band members listened to what the leader had to say except for you and.. well.
“Let's talk after this,” you heard him whisper, feeling his hot breath against your ear.
Yeah, there he was. The reason why you were acting so weird today. Min Yoongi.
That hot breath against your neck only awoke memories of last night that you weren't sure if you wanted to forget or brand them into your mind, so you'd never lose them.
How could this have even happened?
You closed your eyes for a moment and it all came flooding back like you were back where you were last night.
“Oh, you're home early,” you grinned happily when you saw Yoongi walk into the living room.
All of the others were out, either working on something in regards to the performance on the show or to enjoy a late night meal with their idol friends.
When it came down to music shows, you always liked to take it slow the night before, knowing that you'd have to get up extremely early. You wanted to rest as much as possible, hence, you always staying back when everyone else went out.
Yoongi was usually one of those who worked through the night, but not this time, apparently.
“Taehyung texted and said that everyone left. Didn't want you to be on your own,” he placed a bag of takeaway on the coffee table in front of you.
“You know it doesn't bother me.”
But when you opened the bag and saw that he brought food from your favorite restaurant, you got so excited that Yoongi couldn't help but chuckle. Good decision to come here after all.
It wasn't the conversation you had that was an indicator for what was about to happen next. You didn’t even flirt casually like you normally did. Neither of you had anything to drink, so that wasn't the reason either. You really didn't know what it was, in hindsight.
But one moment you were having a friendly conversation and then the next you were reaching out to wipe some sauce from his lower lip with your thumb and BOOM.
Yoongi was surprised, but let you do it. His eyes dropped to your lips and with you being so close it was easy for him to simply grab your hand and pull you towards him to close the distance.
It was a bold move that he easily could have regretted, but the sexual tension that has built between you two had only grown these past weeks and so he had decided to finally act on it.
His intuition hadn't been wrong, because instead of pulling back and slapping him - which would have been your good right -, you were actually the one who quickly settled on his lap and turned the kiss into one that was a lot more heated than what he has had in mind.
Both of you had thoughts of: 'But is this right? Should we be doing this' cross your mind, but the more his hands wandered and the harder his dick grew in his pants, the less you both cared.
Still, this was extremely random and unplanned and maybe that's why it worked. If you had put too much thought into it, who knows if you would have gone through with it, the moral questions probably would have made you not act on your feelings.
But now... now that question was out of the window as Yoongi's hands interlinked under your ass and he got up, carrying you into his bedroom.
As excited as he was for what was about to happen, he'd rather not have the others see this. Because despite being so far gone and into it in that moment, he knew that this was scandalous and would turn messy if anyone found out about it.
He shut the door closed with his foot as soon as he was inside his room, then gently laid you down on his bed and began to kiss your neck.
Yoongi was usually a fan of exploring what his partner liked, but the need to be inside you was so much greater. And thankfully, that was a mutual feeling.
When he pushed up your sweatshirt and wanted to kiss your breasts, you pulled on his hair and made him look at you.
“Forget foreplay.”
That only got him harder as he let out a dark chuckle. He shoved his hand in your sweatpants, straight under your panties to feel how wet you were and boy, oh boy, “Were you looking forward to this, princess?”
“Just shut up already,” you pulled on his shirt and waited for him to take it off and while he did, you took off your own clothes.
One item after the other found its way to the floor, until there was one pile of both of your clothes and you were both completely naked.
Looking back at this, you felt a little dirty at how eager you were in that moment. Had these feelings been hiding inside you all this time? Because when you felt Yoongi's dick at your entrance, you felt yourself dripping, that's how much you wanted him.
His penis slipped inside you so easily that both of you let out a loud and surprised moan.
“What the fuck,” Yoongi moaned out, his hands fisting in the bed sheets beneath him, “Shit, you're so fucking wet, (Y/N).”
If he had known just how good you felt, he would have acted on this sexual tension long before today. Even just slipping inside you once made him regret ever having sex with other people. Because this right there? This was the best feeling he's ever had when it came down to sex.
And once again, it was mutual.
You arched your back and whined, “Please.. fuck me.”
It wasn't romantic and it unfortunately wasn't long either.
You felt so good that Yoongi couldn't hold out long and you were gone the moment he got on his knees to fuck you from a different angle and rubbed hard circles over your clit to make you orgasm with him.
You moaned out your lungs and despite Yoongi usually holding back on the moans, he couldn't this time. He nearly screamed when he filled you with his seed and it was only when it was all spilled inside you that he realized what he had just done.
His wide eyes made you chuckle and pat his naked and sweaty chest.
“I'm on the pill.”
Dodged a bullet right there.
It wasn't uncomfortable that night, but it wasn't something that you talked about either.
You grabbed your clothes and washed up, Yoongi doing the same in the other bathroom. But instead of talking about what just happened, you went into your bedroom and he back into his.
And it was only now, hours later, that you realized what had happened, and the consequences of it.
Yoongi's promise of talking about it afterwards made you nod and try to gather your professionalism.
You couldn't let anyone see that you were so troubled. You just had to make it through this performance and then, when you were back home, you and Yoongi could talk.
And that worked rather well, thankfully. The moment you set foot on stage, you only thought about performing well for your fans. The only time of the day where you got a break from thinking about last night.
But the second you stepped off the stage and the adrenaline wore off, it was over again.
Yoongi didn't let you wait long, though. Not even ten minutes after you had gotten out of the shower and walked into your bedroom, he walked in with two cups of tea.
“You usually only do this when I don't feel good.. bring me tea, I mean,” you said with a small smile.
“You look like you could use something to calm you down,” he handed it to you, then sat down next to you. You weren't sure if it was troubling Yoongi as much as you, or if he was just hiding it better. Right now, he was staring at you as you were drinking the hot beverage and smiling when you let out a happy sigh, “Better?”
“You always manage to make me feel good..- I mean..-” your eyes immediately widened, realizing that this could also be understood in regards to yesterday, but Yoongi quickly laughed it off as he shook his head, “God, why am I acting like this..”
He didn't respond right away, seemed to think about his words first, before he carefully asked: “I'm going to ask you a question now. Don't think about it too much, just answer, okay?” you nodded, then he added: “Do you regret it?”
“No,” you said right away, surprising yourself with that answer. Good thing you didn't think about it, otherwise your bad conscious would have made you say yes.
The answer made Yoongi happy, though. The corner of his mouth curled into a smile, “Glad to hear it.”
“You are?”
“Yeah,” he put his cup of tea on your nightstand then looked back into your eyes, “Because I don't regret it either. The only thing I regret is that it didn't last any longer.”
That made you snort and gently hit his shoulder, “Stop that.”
He was glad that you seemed more at ease now. He waited for you to drink another sip of the tea, then he added: “I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable, (Y/N). Whatever happens now will be up to you.”
You were so thankful that he was letting you make that decision.
Right now, there was only one question that kept coming up in your head that you needed to know the answer of in order to decide: “Was this just... us acting on the sexual tension?”
“I can't speak for you,” Yoongi brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “But it wasn't for me.”
You unconsciously began to smile and lean into his touch.
"Glad to hear it,” you said in his own words from before.
#bts imagine#bts x reader#min yoongi x reader#suga x reader#min yoongi imagine#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagine#suga imagine#bangtan boys#bts#bangtan sonyeondan#min yoongi#suga#yoongi#reader#requests
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