#fear of losing the things/people you love‚ of your life suddenly being destroyed

[haemosexuality]

thinking in depth ab the fears after finishing the podcast has just been an endless loop of "ooooh its not literal"

#''its not fear of Fire thats just how it manifests!'' ''its not fear or spiders thats just how it Manifests!'' ''its not fear of mud'' #''its not fear of weird corridors'' etc #the fears but explained more easily: #fear of being watched and judged #fear of being unclean‚ of disease and rot #fear of the dark #fear of losing the things/people you love‚ of your life suddenly being destroyed #fear of death or dying #fear of being trapped‚ either literally or metaphorically #fear of your body not being good? not having value or worth? and ig body horror? this ones weird to explain #fear of being hunted down‚ again either literally or metaphorically #fear of being alone #fear of senseless violence #fear of losing your mind #fear of others‚ of people you dont know #fear of being insignificant on the grand scale of things (or of the grand scale itself) #fear of being manipulated‚ of not having control over yourself #i think i got it pretty well now? idl #theres also the extinction which is just ''fear of extinction/apocalypse''. very self explanatory. also im an extinction truther #the magnus archives #anyways i wish we had proper buried and slaughter avatars #we met avatars of ALL the fears except those????? like CMON #melanie doesnt count cuz she was never avatar level #and the closest thing we have to a buried avatar is??? rhe coffin ig? so unfair #i want to see what a slaughter avatar would be like so bad

[neurotheascars]

I think other vision impaired people need to understand that the fear of loosing your vision is not always "hey blind person, your life is a nightmare to me."

A lot of times it's really seriously, honestly, "I am not ready for the major adjustment it will take to live my life blind" and it's spoken by someone that has a hidden good reason to worry.

It's "If I lost the ability to see, I would lose a lot of things that are extremely important to the enjoyment of my life"

The "I would commit die if I became blind" is not "I'd kill myself if I was you" it's "I am not as strong as you and my life is more easily ruined by such things"

You don't have to, as a blind person who is totally ok with being blind, insert yourself into this worry because vision impairment affects everyone differently. Some of us have preexisting conditions that make life untenable should we lose vision.

The assumption it takes to twist "I worry about being able to function if this happened to me" into "I think your life is a nightmare" very much feels like inserting yourself into that persons perspective on their own life, when you could think about how being well adjusted to being vision impaired is a privilege unto itself. You could also be the one that dashes that fear by talking about something you had difficulty with that became easy.

Consider also whether your experience with blindness is innate because you were born with it. because it certainly does make a very big difference If you didn't have to suddenly drop everything in your life and readjust to a different one after becoming blind. It's not a nightmare to you when it very well could be for someone else and you really shouldn't talk over those people.

Like the context is super important here.

The people you are mad at are the able-bodied folk giving you unsolicited opinions directly to you about what your life would be like for them, not people who are speaking about a fear they have on their own and not talking directly to you.

If we are allowed to mourn and fear a loss of ability then why does that stop at vision impairment. Why does "you don't have to like your disability" stop here. If I don't have to love my disability then let me say I hate my vision impairment! Let me say it would ruin my life if it got worse!!

I'm not saying your blind life sucks, I'm saying MY life will suck if I completely loose my vision. Just because you can manage doesn't mean everyone will. Its actually really fucking belittling how much y'all talk about how insulting it is to hear how people can't deal with what you're oh so used to.

I'm autistic and I stim visually. I am allowed to think a life without being able to stim is a bad one for me. I'm allowed to regard visual input as the most important thing in my life.

My system is a professional artist. I'm allowed to say that blindness would destroy my life as I know it and I would have to build a new one from the ground up. I'm fast losing acuity even though I can probably see more colors than most people. Colors are my God and I seriously would have a mental health crisis if something were to take color away from my life. I'm allowed to say these things without people thinking I'm talking about how their life sucks.

This is a post made by someone with legal blindness and deteriorating vision. I will block the fuck out of you if you take this post in bad faith and misinterpret what I'm saying in a mean way.

#disability #ablism

[babbling-idiot]

Dr. Vannacutt x reader

Requested: Yes

Warning: None

(I am so sorry for the long wait. I am trying my best to get back into writing and stuff. And it doesn't help with my hectic schedule. I hope you like this and it was worth the wait.)

After the artifact was destroyed. You were immediately out of there. You had no business staying any longer than intended. Driving home was usually something calm and something you did after work. But now it was just a relief to be behind the wheel. It didn't matter if you made it home, but being out of that building and away from the horrors inside was a blessing beyond all things. At one point, while you were driving, you could have sworn you could see someone in the rear-view mirror. But of course, after everything you had seen. You chalked it off as just seeing things. I mean, it was traumatizing, to say the least. You'd be having nightmares for weeks because of this.

Getting home was something you had only fantasized about while you were in the building, but being in it now was a dream come true. You put all your things away and went to your room. You begin to undress. Your clothes smelt like something awful. Death? Evil? You had no clue you just needed to wash them. As you were putting some clean clothes, you could feel someone watching you. Turning around just as you though, you actually see someone walking past your doorway. You didn't get a clear view, but you knew it was a person. You throw on a jacket instead of the shirt. You quickly grabbed the bat that you had tucked away in your closet. Walking into the hallway, you can see what looks to be a man in your living room, sitting down on your couch. You walk toward him slowly and carefully. By the time you reach the farthest side away from the man, you remembered him immediately. Dr. Vannacutt. You saw him once and prayed to every higher being you could that you would never see him again. You had witnessed him killing someone you had arrived in the building with. It was awful, and you hoped to forget it. You were shaking by this point, and you had no clue if he could feel your fear or what, but he looked at you just as your fear took over your senses.

Though instead of you immediately dying like you had witnessed everyone else do, you stood there for what felt like forever. He looked at you with this softness. Like he had absolutely no intention of hurting you. He just seemed at peace where he was now. Maybe this was his way of passing over? Suddenly, he stood up and walked over to you. He was still in his doctor's uniform. Though he looked at you as if he's known you for forever. He brings his hand up and brushes his thumb over your cheekbone. You felt that part of you should be afraid, but you couldn't be. Something in you felt as though this was familiar.

"I know this is odd. I know you have no clue why I'm here, but if you are willing to hear what I need to say, you will understand."

Nodding, you look around and place the bat down and sit down on the couch. God, this felt so weird and wrong. A ghost who killed loads of people is in your home and wants to explain why he is here. It felt wrong, but something unknown felt perfectly fine with this idea.

"Before the evil of that place took over my mind and soul, I wanted to help people. I wanted to be a doctor and help those who needed people like me. I had a perfect life before. I had the love of my life. She was perfect. She was everything good and saw the good in me. She supported me even when I felt like a failure. She helped me see a way through a problem and helped me in every way to attack it head-on. She was beautiful. But when I began to lose myself, she could see it. She could see me slipping away gradually through the weeks. When I finally slipped and began killing the patients, she couldn't be around me anymore. I understood that. Any sane person would. But it hurt me. It ate at me that the one person who supported me in life was gone and hated me for the person I became. I became worse after that. She later on found a new person to make her happy and to give her a family that she had wanted. She moved on. Not long later after, that was when the system failed and the patients escaped, and we were all killed."

I nodded in understanding.

"The reason I came here to you. The reason I am here with you, even after what happened. Before they destroyed the artifact, I decided to attach myself to you."

Your eyes widened, pissed off was an understatement. You had to live with this man for the rest of your life? What the hell!

"What is wrong with you, man? Why did you do that. Why couldn't you just move on, like go to heaven or wherever ghosts go after?"

He sighs, thinking of words to explain his reasoning.

"Y/n, this is the reason I am here with you."

He says as he pulls a picture out of his pocket and shows it to you. There standing next to him, hand in hand, is a woman who looks identical to you. Your eyes widen in shock. How could that be possible.

"I know it makes no sense, but why do you think I never killed you. You looked so much like her that I thought it was. And that she was coming back to me after all these years. When you looked at me and had no idea who I was. I realized that you weren't her at all. So, I thought that instead of being trapped in that building for the rest of my existence, I would come here with you. I know I'm invading your life, but I'm begging you to let me stay."

You looked at him for a moment. You were mainly just trying to take in all this information. He didn't seem to have any evil intent now that he was here in your home. I mean, what harm could he do now if he had no intent on harming you. So, you just nod your head.

"You can stay."

Weeks later, coming home after work was the same as always. Walk in, take your shoes off. Get dressed in something comfortable and then greet Dr. Vannacutt. It was odd at first. But you got used to it after a while. You showed him a lot of new things like music, movies and books. You even showed him some new fashion trends that were going around.

Besides having to show him everything that he's missed. It was good having him in your home. Though he would look at you sometimes like he loved you, adored you, and even sometimes longed. You understood why. But you had no idea what to do about it. Confronting him about it would probably embarrass him. He wasn't doing any harm. But you could understand his dilemma. On a few occasions, you and sometimes with the company of him would actually do a deep dive into the internet to try and find any information on this woman. But you supposed that after Dr. Vannacutt's death and all the reporters and such bothering her she finally just disappeared with her new family. This upset, Dr. Vannacutt quite a bit. He didn't want to see her or anything but not knowing if she's alive or dead, or if she got the family she always wanted, or just anything about her would be great. But of course, some things were just meant to be unknown. And perhaps it was for the best.

#dr vannacutt x reader #dr. vannacutt #house on haunted hill 1999 #jeffery combs

[adasknife]

Hello lovely!!

How do you think modern Aeons see Ada? I feel like they don't really know her. They're not paying attention to what she's saying or doing. They base their opinion of her on how she acts towards Leon and they will always justify her actions instead of wondering WHY she's acting that way.

She's 'nice' to Leon: omg yes true love uwu she saved his life see she's not a villain!!!

She's 'mean' to Leon: lmaooo you go girlboss point a gun at him yes end his life!!!

BUT if someone suggests Leon doesn't want her because of the latter, they act like crybabies.

She's like a doll to them, a vessel for them to pour their projections on. They don't wonder about her aspirations or fears. It's all so superficial to them. I don't see this happening to any other character (well a lot of ppl baby Leon but most acknowledge his rights and wrongs, and ppl call the other characters out on their bullshit, but with Ada it's just... you can't say a bad thing abt her or you will be crucified, but they cant even form a proper argument against someone who dislikes her, its always stfu hater r#acist and jealous). Like I like Ada but sometimes she pisses me off lol. All of the characters do. Why is it such a taboo for Aeons to admit Ada fucks up too?

I think most, if not all, Ada Wong 'fans' are Aeon shippers first and foremost. That's why they're refusing to acknowledge that Campom is getting rid of the romantic aspect of Aeon in the remake: if Ada isn't with Leon or Leon isnt chasing after her, she loses her charm and they have to acknowledge the 'ugly' parts of her character, bc they NEVER hold her accountable for anything. She's done some questionable stuff but they're always like "omg yes mother slay queen go be a criminal babygirl do your thing". Like they never stop to analyze her. It's so dehumanizing that her own 'fans' do not care to analyze her outside of her being the sexy aloof spy who is the Love Interest and acts mysterious and looks sexy. They are the ones perpetuating the stereotype about her. Bc they don't care to know her. They know everything they want to know: that Leon wants her, and thats enough for them.

Sorry for the long message, you're one of the few ppl on here who actually offers a different, realistic, HUMAN analysis on Ada.

i don't know about the modern aeons a lot. i only know one decent enough, and they seem to respect ada but of course aeon is their main thing. the ones that i do know less of but their reputation is very high and mighty. yeah. unfortunately, they don't really seem the... biggest fans of her. i can respect the motivation for her. especially with those who baby leon.

i mean, imagining shipping aeon and suddenly you get people shitting on ada because she manipulate him. blah, blah, that sort of thing.

those are the one who definitely just defend her for the #girlpower which once again. can't argue against that. ada is allowed to use leon, but they definitely rank up her mean heart. i think it's double down the comments against ada or they just really like that specific dynamic.

but that's when you mention the other thing, the ada needs leon to 'really' manner to the story.

that's another sad yeah to some fans and i feel like it's accidentally. like, i certainly hope none of these fans actually do it on purpose. or disliking characters. like, i have seen people who hate leon and people who hate ada (y'know disliking her character not disliking her for race or jealousy), and i follow both to get an understanding on why people hate them. i dislike and like living in an echo chamber, but how will you get the understanding of the characters?

i feel i am rambling now so, i'll try to hurry up. aeons want a validation of the past self of the ship. imagine wasting years of your life, begging for ship to become canon and re6 comes along and destroys it again. like, i follow an aeon shipper and a couple aeons get angry at the idea of shipping a different person with leon or even an oc.

like, i don't hundred percent think that they project themselves in ada. they want to understand her as well, but they are bias of believing ada needs leon. when... she never did. in re6, helena is telling leon to go with ada and leon rejects it. even he never needed her.

helena is like an aggressive aeon shipper, she thinks she understands their story, but who knows it better than them two. and that's where the flaw of the writing comes to place and the fans have to write it in to fill in the holes. making theories that leon is an alcoholic for missing ada or that he is happier in death island because he got the 'pussy'. (comments in aeon videos)

like this is messy, it's unfortunate that ada doesn't get many thoughts of fans. like jacksepticeye said, "they'll make cute babies." or the pieces of writing of ada repeat that ada protects leon with the bias of the OG games while speaking about the remakes.

i try in this blog to avoid leon (sometimes i fail and that's fine.) so ada can shine as a bad and good character. i don't worship the ground that ada walks over. i think she is hot. i think she is good but the writing/fans think that kindness is only meant for leon. i just hope fans adore their female characters as much they claim. the ugly and the pretty.

i hope aeon shippers think the same. i hope they aren't always horrible and try to understand half the ship they love

#resident evil #ada wong

[m1d-45]

" archons who lose their character, things they held dear falling to dust, their minds swallowed by the alternate and their separate realm of existence- OH WHAT If"

YOU SO REAL FOR THIS

you got pretty much exactly what I was trying to convey, I wanted the archons to lose their minds by praying/being near alternate creator and the children to be more susceptible/the first to fall in this apocalypse scenario

BUT ALSO THE SHIT U MENTIONED AT THE END, it's so good angst and sadness that I love. having people put there complete and utter trust in a lie and be corrupted by this incredibly horrific disgusting thing. that just keeps sucking away at them

but just how I love angst I love happy endings. so what about the reader descending down to teyvat? how would their presence respond to the cold darker place teyvat has turned into

but also if the reader couldn't escape their alternate in their reality, how would they go about surviving in teyvat? what would the alternate!archons do? what if the reader healed the broken spirits of the people? what if reader meets one of the archons and they just know, they know they've been played but that it's you who is their god

ooo just thoughts, let's just say I love this au, it has potential.

-🍄 (most of what I've been writing about isn't really in the Mandela catalogue I think, I'm mostly using it as a basis of my thought process so don't feel bad that you haven't seen it. I think where both pretty even on our understanding of the canonical Mandela catalogue, anyways ily take care)

mushroom welcome back my dear

as always, below the readmore :)

i’m reading this with the alternate!creator being readers alternate bc they’re the creator btw, so i imagine they’ve at least encountered one, even if they don’t remember it.

but alternate!archons meeting reader…

if we take that to mean the alternates of the archons, they both recognize you on sight and are either deathly afraid or insanely angry. you’re the one thing that can topple their empire, so they’re either afraid of you for it or pissed off at you. why would you ruin what they’ve built? can’t you see it’s perfect enough?

if we take that to mean corrupted archons being driven to the alternate!creator by their own twisted faith, then….. ough…

corrupted archons who don’t know why they feel so strongly for you, emotions they forgot they had resurfacing with a vengeance. they’re husks, empty shells of gods, puppets who don’t know anything but their ‘god’. their friends have left them and they don’t do anything without a given order, sitting in mental stasis until they’re called upon.

so you?

when you come in, and they feel, and they need, and they have urges and temptations and suddenly it’s as if they’re seeing color for the first time, the beautiful shade of your eyes drawing them back to a world they barely remember.

i can see it going two ways.

either the alternate’s hold on them forces their hand without their meaning to, and they have to watch as they destroy the one light in their life of shadow. their body is hateful when their mind is not, and they have to watch, stuck, as you run in fear, betrayal in your eyes.

or, they still have a semblance of control. they can hiss in a breath, reaching a hand for you, slowly and shaking as they reach, hand outstretched. the corruption within them hisses and seethes, yanking them back from the light, and the best they can do is repress the pull until you’re far enough away that they can scream.

they’re caught in a web they can’t control, strings pulling at their body and telling them to kill, to remove the brightness, and they don’t know whether to follow. they like you, they like the light you bring and how it feels as if everything will be okay, that they don’t have to worry, that they can close their eyes and rest.

the darkness says that your light is evil, that youre made of poison and full of knives. and it’s the only thing they know, so they listen.

(should they?)

#m1d : [chats] #m1d : [secrets] #🍄 anon #alternate!au #teddy has barely been involved in this alsxjdkdn #SORRY KING it’s mine and 🍄’s now #/j of course #also @ 🍄 anon: sorry this derailed again. hope it’s okay—

[28-11s]

hello, my darling! the blog update came as a very welcome surprise. funnily enough, at 3:37, i suddenly woke up; i believe my body sensed that you were writing to me. i read the message several times throughout the day since, as you said, i enjoy reading your padlet posts, especially when they deal with relatively serious subjects. it's always fascinating to see you share your thoughts on various topics, it helps me see new sides of you. honestly speaking, i do like to use the blog to simply let out my thoughts, and i never expect a response, especially because it feels like i’d be burdening you by asking you to acknowledge my messy train of thought. BUT i love it when you share your experiences and viewpoints, because it enables me to shift my "philosophy" and see things from a different perspective. it's wonderful to have someone pull me back down to earth, because you know i tend to overreact, magnify minor issues, and throw myself into a pit of worry. being someone who despises change and has a natural fear of restriction is understandable; in a way, we are both control freaks. hehe. but i think i simply hate not having control over people… not knowing if and when they'll change, not knowing how they're feeling, and not being able to /maintain/ the same relationships. it’s all too scary, and as a result i have problems relaxing and enjoying life. i don't mean to imply that i like manipulating others… i just don’t want things to change so i can stop worrying about all the possible outcomes. you know what you’re losing but you don’t know what you will find kind of deal. i am extremely, extremely greedy, and i think my aversion to change stems from my absurd worry of never again being able to feel joy. which IS absurd, because it’s impossible for me to never feel positive emotions again. most likely a trauma response? i never seem to be able to move on from anything, so even though it's been years, i still think about the individuals i’ve lost, the things i wish i could experience again, the things i’d do differently. maybe fear of change and regret go hand in hand. it’s just unfortunate  how even the smallest alteration can end years of love and make all the joyful memories insignificant. you know better than anyone else that despite my tendency to always appear optimistic, i am just a negative wreck when it comes to myself. it’s just really hard to think positive when the most normal thing in life makes you want to crawl in a hole. i understand what you mean, though, and that’s lovely way of thinking. it is also reassuring… i’ll always carry a small part of my former self, their experiences and the people they met with me, basically. this is exactly why i always search for comfort in this padlet. besides feeling like home, it helps me visualise my emotions. another one of my issues with change is the fact  that i NEED to see or hear something that can evoke feelings. i have a hard time experiencing things with only the help of my own memories, which is one of the reasons as to why i always end up here, or in one of your playlists, or your carrds, when i need inspiration. i’ll record every single word you say so i’ll never forget how i felt at the time. oh, before i forget! i wanted to (belatedly) thank you for your support with matcha. i was supposed to do it a few days ago, but i’ve been in a slump ever since, and i didn’t feel like talking to anyone lol. the ending was unfortunate, and honestly i will never forgive twitter for destroying weeks of hard work, but i’m so glad i got to experience that week with you, riku and winnie. you are truly my biggest cheerleader and fan, i still cannot believe YOU managed to reach 1k in less than 7 days; i did not lie when i said i cried a little because of your overwhelming support (and activity). being in a roleplay with you always makes the experience 12 times better, and mtc was the third roleplay in an year which is a new record for us! yay moonyal! 

i hope you will never apologize for writing long posts, those are my favourite ones and you know it. however, i will laugh at you for going ia because somebody flirted with you, and i will also ask for their username so i can send them threats. it’s scorpio season and i am not scared of beefing with strangers. glad you’re not cpdping with others, though. especially given the fact that i’ve been with my eyes glued to the screen for the past weeks looking for a picture we can use to cpdp as skz. i am getting sick of their faces, why did you give me this task ueueueueueueue. omg how is it 2am already HELPPP i’ve been writing for so long… well, i have to get up in a few hours so it’s time for me to go. thank you for acknowledging my vent honestly, it feels good to be heard, and it feels good to know that i am not the only person who experiences these worries. you always manage to make me feel better about myself. i guess i tend to forget that i am human, after all. i love you so much, i know there are certain things that we cannot control but i hope you will be in my life for a very long time. i hope you managed to get more than enough sleep last night? you went to bed really late… goodnight my love, i’ll go and sleep well! salutes. 

bats eyelashes. there is something incredibly attractive about your knowledge of mbti, btw. mbti bf and astrology bf.

[suna-reversed]

“The bargain”

Sukuna x Reader// hcs

loads of crack and fluff. putting makeup on the grumpy curse🥺

this is a side drabble to “and when he walks in, I am loved. I am loved.”  (not necessary to have read it as these are independent headcanons)

- you’ve been Yuji’s best friend since forever, and also one of the rare “outsiders” to know about the centuries old curse that lives within him.

- and you have spent enough time with Yuji for him to be assured about your safety if he was to ever shift suddenly.

- and even though Sukuna has grown to “tolerate you”, there is nothing more he loves than to annoy you every chance he gets.

- which leads to a lot of bickering. like a lot! Yuji wants to rip his hair out every time it starts.

- said bickering eventually leads to the curse regretting it’s existence in the whole wide world on one unfortunate day.

- you were dragging Yuji across the arcade to the alien ship shooting game for the 50th time in that week alone.

- you were startled by the sudden voice of the curse, who further made you yelp as you realised it wasn’t just his mouth that had spoken. it was him.

- had you driven Yuji to such an edge that he thought shifting was a better option?

- “Why are your stupid antics even more annoying than any other day brat?”

- this statement from him paved the way to your usual round of bickering.

- said bickering leading to a bargain being made as Sukuna didn’t wish to be annoyed by the menacing sounds of the guns in the game you had dragged him up to,

- “you have been trying to win the facile task for longer than the span of my life-“

-“well why don’t you give it a try then since you’re so sure about it being easy?”

- and when has the curse ever stepped away from a challenge ?

- pfftt this wasn’t even a challenge, this was a mere stupid simulation made for the entertainment of humans (if only he could shoot actual people with those guns)

- and that’s how a bargain was made.

- sukuna claiming that he’ll win the game in less than a blink of your eye, and then you’d never drag them back into this wretched place again.

- “but if you lose” the curse raised an eyebrow as if daring you to speak,

- “...I get to do your makeup”

- his eyes narrowed at that but he brushed you off, since he knew that there was no way you’d actually win,

- “deal”

——————

- “Ah no! This box is an absolute piece of trash.”

- “hey stop kicking the game !” You said trying to shush down the curse as you got strange looks from the people around.

- You had never been more grateful for Yuji’s uniform covering the marks on his face.

- “Anyways, you’ve lost the bargain about 3 times by now. Time for me to get my due” You said with a grin slowly making it’s way up your face (I imagine it as the same look Hange gets when she sees titans)

- He’d never admit it but Sukuna had never felt this terrified of a teenage girl who was half his size before.

————

- and that’s how he found himself sitting down on the corner of your bed, you hovering over him with a dozen different products and tools.

- “hmm would you look better in bronze eyeshadow or plum...” you asked no one in particular.

- “Let’s just go with both!” you exclaimed while pulling out even more stuff from the small bag that seemed to contain the entirety of the universe.

- The worst part about the whole thing was that Sukuna knew you weren’t doing this to mock him. He could feel it in your tone that you were genuinely excited to adorn him with these products.

- He scowled as you held his face up, trying to pull away at first, but then sighing and stilling as you gave him a pointed look that said “you brought this upon yourself”

- soon enough, he found his eyes fluttering closed as you rubbed some lavender scented cream into his skin.

- the curse had never really gotten any kind of affection you know...?

- so these new sensations were an absolute treat to him as he tried not to purr when you massaged that one spot on his jaw

- “what am I doing?” He thought to himself. He’d barely even have to lift a finger to crush you to pieces.

- And suddenly, he regretted that thought coming into his mind as he realised that it truly unsettled him.

- he hadn’t particularly considered how human you were before. anyone could easily make your breath stop in the span of less than a second.

- at that moment, he convinced himself that this part that felt protectiveness over you wasn’t even him. That it was just the feelings of his vessel being projected onto him.

-Nonetheless, it didn’t stop him from clenching his fists and inwardly thinking of all the ways he’d destroy anyone who even dared to think of hurting you.

- “tsk tsk, stop clenching your eyes so hard, I don’t wanna end up blinding you.”

- relaxing his eyes at your voice, it was only now that he realised how close you had gotten to him.

- and was that your...knee placed in between his spread legs? (ensue mental screaming)

- however out of everything, this was the most foreign feeling,

- your hand holding the side of his face so tenderly. so gently. as if he was fragile one here.

- he could hear your heartbeat in his ears as you dragged something over the lid of his eye. why was it racing?

- why were you being so careful with him? was this a ploy? because at that moment, he’d have given up his own sanity just to feel you hold him like that every day.

- he almost wanted to whine at the loss of your warmth as you pulled away.

- “there you go” you said while pulling out a small mirror and placing it in his hand.

- he could barely get a look at his reflection before he felt your hands come back on his cheeks and....squish them?

- “you’re so pretty” you squealed with a smile brighter than the sun itself

- even though he scowled and let out a small growl in response, he found himself leaning more into your touch anyway.

- you were surprised at how easy it was to make him look at the camera while you snapped a thousand pictures, ready to show them to nobara the next time you went shopping with her.

- the curse could not care less about its own vanity, but as it stared at itself in the bathroom mirror, he couldn’t deny that the liner on his eyes and highlighter on his cheekbones accentuated his face a lot

- you had somehow managed to make him look more,,,intimidating? (ah the raw fear of gender envy!)

- he didn’t even bother to wash it off his face, walking out the bathroom only to see you passed out on the bed, one of your legs hanging off the end of it

- putting your leg back up, he pulled a blanket over you, stopping by to run his finger over the adorable scrunch between your brow.

- his hand stilled as your eyes slightly opened,

- “you’re pretty” you mumbled, grabbing the hand he had pulled an inch away from you, too deep in your slumber to be ashamed about having clutched it to yourself while you went back to sleep.

- Sukuna held his breath for the longest time waiting for you to realise who he was. what he was. but you held onto his finger with the same softness that you now held his heart with.

- he leaned down, holding his chin up on his other hand while he gazed at your serene face. He had never been more glad to have lost a bargain.

#jujutsu kaisen hcs #jujutsu Kaisen #sukunafluff #sukuna headcanons #sukuna x reader #jjk hcs #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #yujiitadori #yuji x reader #jjk smut #sukuna angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #itadori x reader #gojo x reader

[rumblelibrary]

Can you do a zemo x reader where the reader is scared to marry or be in a relationship with zemo because they feel like they are replacing zemo's dead wife?

An Honest Proposal [Baron Helmut Zemo x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mention of losing a loved one

Author’s note: This is a theme that I loved to analyse while writing, thank you so much for offering it to me to write!

You looked at him, you gulped down as he was proposing there, in that moment.

It wasn't like you weren't already on cloud nine when he brought you to Paris for a long weekend out, or when he told you that he booked the Palace of Versailles for the two of you to dine in the mirrored halls in your evening clothes.

Oh no.

He had to take your hand and give you a tour showing off his cultured self, how much he knew, all the trivia and the famous quotes and rules of the french court.

His charm was over pouring and you were feeling like a princess, like the world was made to unravel around you and develop from you.

Then he did it, he dropped onto his knee presenting you the finest piece of jewellery and craftsmanship that had ever been done on a ring.

“Would you give me the honour to become my wife?"

Those the words, and here you are now, staring at him, the lights of Versailles shining upon you, suddenly you couldn't hear any sound but the rhythmical beating of your heart.

"Yes, yes I do"

You said it or maybe you shouted it but then he took your hand and slipped that ring on your finger and you kissed him.

The world was perfect and you were the luckiest one in the world.

But then you couldn't sleep that night.

You kept rolling around in the sheets as your mind was a mess.

He promised you love forever, he swore to you time and time again you were his love, that he wanted to have a future with you, sometimes he even dropped a little hint of your future life together.

You usually smiled it off, you nodded and giggled or shut him up with a kiss.

But now the ring made it real, his honest smile making you feel guilty to the bone for the distrust you were giving in for him.

He did it all, he did it all perfectly, he was romantic, attentive, gentle, observant. He tried all his best to show you only the best side of himself and even when arguing he would be cold and try to detain the fiery nature of his character.

You sighed as you realised sleep was not coming to you, not even after the also amazing good night sex you had.

You slipped out of bed trying to be less noisy as possible, you had a luxurious suite to stay in Paris so you could let him rest. You wore your night gown and wrapped it safely around your body as you closed the door behind you going to the living room area turning on the tv to low volume as you sat on the comfortable couch.

Your eyes went down to your left hand, that ring so proportionate for your hand that it looked like made for it.

You inhaled deeply as you let out a soft sigh, tears started to surge from your eyes, a sense of loss taking over you.

A series of 'What if...?'s creeping into your mind like a snake into the little mouses's house.

You can't do it.

How could you?

It was not like he was divorced, he was a widower. He lost her, he lost his son.

Nothing you could ever do could replace her, nothing you could ever say. She was still alive for you, she was unbeatable like the art you saw tonight, she was perfect and idealised and you were human and flawed.

You almost didn't realise when tears were running down your cheeks freely, the sense of helplessness washing over you.

You didn't want to lose him, you loved him, but how could you ever leave a mark in his life when she was there?

"My love"

You jolted up as you felt Helmut's warm hands on your shoulders as he leaned above you standing from behind the couch.

"What happened?"

He asked as he moved around the couch to sit with you.

"No, it is nothing"

He stared at you titling his head on side "darling" he warned you, he hated lies.

"Helmut I.." you looked away to the screen like the people in there could tell you what to say "I don't know if I can marry you"

He opened his mouth, he looked like he didn't expect it, like he could face anything but that. He looked down at his own lap, for once speechless.

"Did I do anything that upset you?"

"No, of course not, the night was perfect"

"Is it because I want to get married in church? We can do the civil rite, we have time"

"No, no Helmut, it is not because of it"

"It is because of my past?"

"No"

You said but the sad twist into the corner of his mind meant that he captured the lie in that. You looked at him a bit upset, did he just pulled his military tricks on you?

"Look.."

"No" You interrupted him "It is not because of the terrorist attacks or the whole Avengers thing..."

He was really confused by now, his body wrapped into the night gown looked almost weak as you presented those doubts to him.

"It is you wife, Helmut"

You admitted it and as soon as you did you felt a new wave of tears rushing over you like a storm, you hiccupped as you tried to hide it and he frowned, lips pressing against each other tight.

“What about her?" You glared at him, you rarely did it but this time you had to.

You were mad he couldn’t understand your doubts and fears, he leaned his hand to touch yours and you slapped it away.

“Y/N” he begun taking a deep breath in “Heike is dead, she is not a threat toward you in any way. She lost her life cruelly and unrightfully, but that doesn’t make you different to my eyes”

You stared at him shaking your head

“She is perfect to your eyes Helmut” you said collecting the courage to speak up “She was the perfect mother to your perfect son, she was all kindness and being the exceptional baroness full of this and that…”

“Y/N”

“You destroyed the Avengers for her!”

You didn’t realised you shouted it in his face until you just did.

He looked at you, he could see what was going on now, he wondered what of all he did brought you to that point, and also, how could he not see it?

“It is true” he said “I destroyed them for her, they took away my family and I took away theirs. It was fair to me in some very cruel sense”

You opened your mouth and now he was the one blocking your words 

“But” he looked at you taking a pause “she was not you and you are not her. She wasn’t perfect, she had her flaws like any human and my life was flawed in its own way. You’re not a second take, you’re not taking her place. I want you to be my wife. That’s it. Full stop. I want to be flawed with you, I want to make a life with you, maybe a family, if you’d like. But the truth is that I wouldn’t do it with anyone else but with you and in my eyes there’s nobody, and I repeat it, nobody that could compare with you”

His palm opened in front of you offering you to take his hand

“I just want the chance to make you happy, to call you mine officially in front of the world. I want you to have my name and my title, I want us to be a now but also a tomorrow, together”

He smiled at you, he looked so bare to your eyes, his heart almost visible to you through his words.

“I love you Y/N, I will love you no matter if you’d wear that ring”

You pushed his hand away and he looked at you afraid for a moment, his heart sinking down into his stomach, before you hugged him wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love you too” you whispered.

He smiled wrapping his arms around you and he stayed like this, holding you, giving you a gentle squeeze as he buried his face against your neck.

Only the thought of losing you breaking his heart, if something ever happened to you the Avengers wouldn’t be able to detain him.

“My husband”you called his attention now “I am hungry”

He looked up at you as you said those words, the most genuine smile taking over his lips as he caressed your cheek pulling you closer into a kiss, sealing the end of your doubts with it.

Tagged @cazzyimagines​ @lieutenantn​ @handmaiden-of-mischief​ @thesunflowersutra​ @zemomybeloved​​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @charistory​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @apparrio​ @hb8301​ @whatawildone​ @rhymerhymerhyme@thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo

Let me know if you want to get tagged to my publications too <3

#helmut zemo fanfiction #helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x bucky barnes #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x y/n #baron zemo x you #baron zemo fanfiction #baron helmut zemo x you #baron helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #baron zemo

[harry-writings]

The Happy Years

- The one where Y/n is unhappy in her engagement and finds an escape with her former lover

Part 1

Masterlist

(A/N) IM SO EARLY IM SORRY I KNOW I SAID 9PM BUT IM DONE SO MUCH SOONER THAN EXPECTED OKAY IM SORRY LOVE YALL <3333

-

Three years later.

The heaviest of thunderstorms hit the city of London by early morning, the loss of the sun and the gloom of the day leaving Harry bedridden for the first time in weeks.

He always tried his best to avoid days like this — trapped within his home, caged in memories that make every step he takes heavier than the last, wishing for just the smallest taste of salvation — because it’s when he’s left alone between these walls that the darkest parts of him come out, ravaging, feeding off of what’s left of him.

Rain reminds him of the day Y/n left. Thunder reminds him of Malibu. Malibu reminds him of all the things he ever used to do with her — on the bed, on the couch, in the hallways.

There’s no escape from what he’s done.

But when the time hits two in the afternoon and Harry still hasn’t gotten up from under his blankets, he decides that doing even the bare minimum with his day would be some sort of accomplishment.

He decided to get the mail.

And what a terrible decision that was, Harry thinks, as he sees an envelope addressed to him in unfamiliar handwriting by an unfamiliar name. Something about it upsets his stomach and throws him off key, knowing in his heart that he shouldn’t open it, but it’s heavy in his hands and he can’t ignore the temptation of it all.

Another terrible decision he’s made.

Please join us for the wedding of Alfie Lexington & Y/n Y/l/n.

Saturday, September 25, 2021 at 3:00 PM.

Dartmouth House. Mayfair, London.

The downpour feels like a drizzle compared to the cries Harry lets out as he reads the wedding invitation, his worst nightmare playing out right before his very eyes and if he wasn’t already so fucked up, he’d try his best to ignore it.

Y/n played her move. She wants him to strike back. She wants to win and watch him lose more than he already has. That’s all she has left of him.

His lips tremble as he sniffles, the invitation shaking between his palms as he lets reality sink in.

Y/n is getting married.

Y/n is happy.

Y/n is going to spend the rest of her life with somebody other than him — somebody that was once his friend.

It's unfathomable to him. The connection him and Y/n shared was unlike any other. They were drawn to each other instantaneously, their feelings of infatuation never once dying down because it was simply incapable of doing so.

They put each other first. They made each other better people, helped each other grow through all the droughts and winter days, and continuously found ways to become closer to one another. They were so comfortable and confident in their company, and so every day they spent together within those four years had never been anything less than pure happiness.

They were meant to be. He didn’t see it then, but he sees it now, and now that’s all he sees because everything he sees is her. 

To know that it’s no longer the same for her kills him from the inside out, because now she really doesn’t belong to him.

He lets out a sound that can only resemble what would be a whine and a groan made together, sobbing as he flips the invitation around, only to find another saved date he just doesn’t have the heart to see — an engagement party for all the invited to join.

He’s so overwhelmed with devastation that his brain becomes fogged, his body disassociating from itself as he rips the invitation apart, growling and screaming and wailing as he just keeps ripping it and ripping it and ripping it.

He’s destroying it in the same way it destroyed him until he gives up, slamming his fists down upon the counter, losing control of himself beneath all his pain and regrets. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. This isn’t what was supposed to come from this life.

He’s barely surviving as it is.

And he just needs to see her again.

But he doesn’t know how he’d react once he does. Whether he’d want to kiss her, to hate her, to love her all over again, he doesn’t know. His entire world is collapsing and he doesn’t know how to save it from falling apart. He can’t take any more risks when it comes to her.

But what is love without fear and danger? What would it say about him if he were to walk away from this now instead of trying just once more with her?

So with a heavy heart and a sobbing chest, he doesn’t take his chances.

And Y/n simply just couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

Harry is standing at her doorstep, soaked head to toe, shaking in his bones. His lips are a light shade of blue and his eyes an alarming shade of red, somehow wetter than the rest of him. And as the thunder rumbles beneath her feet and nearly sends her to her knees, it goes to show her that he really is here, standing at her doorstep, and it’s not just a dream.

And she must have been struck by the shock of his presence because her tongue is suddenly tied, her throat dry, her lips fallen open yet forgetting how to breathe.

She just looks at him, soaking him all in, trying to understand what exactly led him back to the biggest mistake of his life.

“Harry?”

“So that was your way of getting back at me?! After three fucking years?!”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing in defense. How he could possibly accuse her of something she didn’t even do — considering she hadn’t made any attempts to reach out to him since the moment she left Malibu — makes her feel even more betrayed than before.

He should know her better than this. He should know her from the inside out at this point, but she supposed three years really is a long time, because she’s never seen this side of Harry before. He seems so different to her now.

“Don’t you dare come to my home and try to make an ass out of me! Since when have I ever been the kind of person to get back at somebody?!”

Harry stutters for a moment, his anger and jealousy and hurt blinding him from the truth that Y/n never goes out of her way to get even. Her heart is too big, but he can’t shake this feeling that the person who sent him the invitation was out to do him harm.

And nobody had more of a reason to hurt him than Y/n.

“So the wedding invitation, then? You had nothing to do with that?”

He speaks it condescending, as if he didn’t believe a word she said, but that’s not what it comes down to. It comes down to the fact that she has moved on and found herself somebody so much better than him, and he has no one.

She shakes her head as if to gather her thoughts, confused about how he even found out about the wedding considering Harry quit the firm just hours after he left Malibu, leaving him with no contact to anybody that had any string tied back to her.

“Of course I had something to do with the wedding invitations! I’m the one getting married!”

She pauses then, her cold demeanor dropping into something Harry wants to say resembles a hint of relief, but it’s much more cross than that, much more serious, and he doesn’t expect what’s coming next.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Me getting married?” She speaks it through a small, bitter laugh. “I should have known the only way you’d fight for me was by being with somebody else. You never could stand being second to me, as ironic as that is.”

“I could give two shits about you getting married.” He lies through clenched teeth, his stomach sick at the mere thought of it. “But I do have an issue with you inviting me to your wedding after walking out on me.”

Her head snaps back up to him.

“Wait, Harry, what are you talking about?” She frowns, trying to make sense of it. “I didn’t invite you to the wedding.”

Why would she?

They are no longer friends, no longer much of anything, so for her to take time out of her day to sabotage anything but herself wouldn’t feel right to her. Besides, it was her decision to never speak to Harry again, she wouldn’t ever take her word back.

Harry frowns then, too, because she isn’t faking her emotions. She’d always been terrible at doing so, and the way her eyes scream and beg for answers can’t go ignored. He, again, feels like the absolute worst person in the world.

“Then who did?” He whispers.

There’s only one possible answer.

-

Seven months ago.

Alfie insisted that he and Y/n had a New Year’s Eve party. They’d never had one before, as Y/n much preferred staying in with a bottle of champagne and celebrating with a lobster dinner and late night reruns of The Honeymooners.

But Alfie was persistent. Very persistent. Too persistent. So persistent she had no choice but to give in, and she just didn’t understand why.

She didn’t understand it as days passed and all Alfie talked about was the stupid party. She didn’t understand it when he rented out one of the most expensive venues. She didn’t understand it when he laid awake the entire night before, too anxious to fall asleep. She didn’t understand it when he asked her to wear his favorite dress.

She wished that she did the moment it happened.

The clock was ticking.

“Five!”

Alfie reached for Y/n’s hand.

“Four!”

Y/n noticed something shift in the air.

“Three!”

Alfie reached his other hand into his pocket.

“Two!”

Y/n knew what was coming.

“One!”

Alfie dropped to one knee.

“Happy new year!”

It was every girl’s dream — the fireworks, the balcony, the view, the prince charming that would whisk her away to spend the rest of eternity together — yet it couldn’t have felt any more like a nightmare.

It wasn’t what she wanted. Not then, not ever before, not once during the span of their relationship, and time seemed to have stopped moving forward.

There she was, in the center of the universe as everybody stopped and stared, gasping and gushing at the sight of a man on his knees for a woman. An act of vulnerability, of love, of submission, yet it didn’t feel like any of those things.

It all felt so wrong.

She began to cry.

To everyone else, it seemed as though she was crying from happiness. Her devoted boyfriend of two years finally asked for her hand in marriage, to be the mother of his children, to spend the rest of their lives tied together by a vow, unable to be broken. So it was no surprise when everybody let out an awe of endearment, nobody (not even Alfie) knowing her well enough to distinguish the difference between her happiest and saddest cries.

Harry would have known.

And that was all it seemed to come back to in that very moment in time.

Harry.

What she would have given to feel his hands on her waist, blocking her body from view with his, taking her away from all the unwanted eyes on her fragile body. He would have done it in a heartbeat because he always did — he always found a way to help her escape her horrifying realities, even the sweetest of ones.

What she would have given for it to be him kneeling in front of her… this all would have been so different.

Her lover of two years was promising her a future, yet all she could think about was somebody stuck in her past, yet so heavily prevalent in her present.

But she couldn’t say no. How could she when everybody expected the answer he was looking for, ready to toast to the bride and groom? How could she when phones captured the beginning of the rest of their lives, ready to share for all to see?

But she couldn’t say yes, either.

She settled for a nod of her head.

The crowd cheered, some clapping, others clinking their glasses, lovers kissing. She only caught a glimpse of those celebratory moments before everything around her drowned in her tears, voices of congratulations so distant beneath her heavy, hyperventilated breaths.

Alfie embraced her, then, and she felt his laughs of euphoria rumbling in his chest as hers met his, and she couldn’t even pretend.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, her expression void of everything that she should have been feeling. And her eyes went blank as they caught a reflection of her through the balcony windows — the last time she ever saw herself for what she truly was.

-

That same day.

Y/n was a mess waiting for Alfie to get home.

Seeing Harry again filled her with so many different emotions, she didn’t know which one to start with. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to destroy everything and everybody that dared get in her way, she wanted to disappear. Yet she had done none of it. All she could manage to do was pace around her bedroom, biting at her nails and getting lost in her scrambled thoughts, her mind and body moving at a million miles an hour, unable to be tamed.

This is precisely the reason Y/n never wanted to see him again.

He does things to her, he always has. She hardly has any control over herself whenever it comes to him and she fucking hates it. No matter how sad, how mad, how hurt or how upset, there was something about his presence that made her see past all of that. It saddens her how much she used to love it.

But her moods swing at her relentlessly, the sadness turning to anger because yes, she is angry. She’s angry that he still has this much of a hold on her, especially after everything he’s done, and she’s even more angry that he hasn’t yet apologized for it.

Because it was all getting better. The constant wondering about what he’s doing or who he’s with and the continuous string of thought always leading back to him was all finally falling into its place. She was finally finding her place.

And then her fiancè did this.

When she hears the bedroom door open, she hardly gives Alfie any time before she starts a fight, wishing nothing more than to take it all out on him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/n fumes, everything tainted red with anger as she looks into his eyes and feels nothing but hurt and betrayal. “Inviting Harry to our wedding behind my back?! Do you not remember what he did to me?! Do you not realize what you just did?!”

He frowns, not sarcastic or menacing, but he genuinely seems upset that she’d ever even ask him such a question.

“Y/n…” Alfie sighs, and she suddenly hates the way he’s always managed to remain calm in the most heated of arguments. She wants to start a war with it, to go for the kill, to make him crawl and beg and bleed for her forgiveness. “Of course I remember what he did to you, which is exactly why I did it.”

Her hands turn to fists.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I wanted to hurt him for hurting you! God damn it, Y/n… after finding out what he did to you all I could think about was ripping him to pieces and that urge never left me, especially after we got together.”

He slumps himself down at the foot of the bed, loosening the tie around his neck, almost too aggressively. And if she wasn’t so out of her mind enraged, she would try her hardest to understand his side.

But there is no excuse for this. There’s no excuse for any of it.

“So now you use our marriage as a way to get back at him?!”

Y/n may not love Alfie the right way, but she had never stooped so low to treat her marriage like a weapon, ready to strike at any moment in time. It wasn’t something she used to inflict pain onto anybody else but herself, no matter how hard it had gotten.

And though she once believed their engagement meant more to him than it ever meant to her, she can’t help but feel as if that’s just another lie she’d been forced to live with.

He went behind her back deliberately to hurt somebody even she never intended on hurting. He knew what was to come of this and yet here he is, letting it all happen for satisfaction’s sake.

It feels like all she will ever be is used.

“Is that what this is to you?! A point on your scoreboard?! A big ‘fuck you, i won!’?”

“Isn’t that what this is for you?”

“Don’t you dare turn this into my problem.” She spits through clenched teeth, punching at the dresser beside her with the side of her fist, face burning with fury. “I’m not the one sending him our wedding invitations!”

“And I’m not the one staying up past midnight scrolling through pictures of him on my phone!”

Her mouth shuts then, her hard and pressed features softening at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

She had been looking at pictures of Harry almost every night since Malibu, she just never expected to get caught. She could physically feel Alfie fall asleep against her, so she always waited thirty minutes before she took her phone out, looking back at everything that once was.

It was the only thing she ever truly wanted.

It’s what she kept going back to — a habit that came as naturally as telling her best friend about her day, about her perspectives on the world, about the lack of guidance in her life — like a phone call at the end of the day as a way to unwind.

She had make believe conversations with him as she scrolled endlessly through her favorite photo album, the thickness of his accent engrained in her mind as she thought of everything he’d say to her if he were still around. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d live vicariously through the memories they made together and replay those moments all night, until they lulled her to sleep.

“I told you from day one that —”

“That you’re never going to let him go, I know. I know that he was the love of your life at one point but this is just pathetic now, Y/n. Absolutely nothing short of pathetic.” She frowns, his choice of words making her heart sink because he knows exactly how to do it. And he sighs, rubbing his hands up and down his face as if he were in agony. “I didn’t know this was the kind of shit I was signing up for.”

Her eyes brim with tears but don’t offer anything more, only upset that he couldn’t find a way to understand her when she’s trying so hard. But he never has and he never will — not in the way she needs him to and not in the way that could ever make this work.

“I’m not sorry for what I did.” She confesses sadly, her bottom lip between her teeth and fingers picking the skin around her nails as she tries, yet again, to make him see. “He was my best friend before he was anything else to me. There was a time in my life where he was all I had.”

And though her heart is still with Harry in every aspect of every way, it’s true. He was her best friend and that’s what she misses the most. There was so much to him that meant so much to her and none of it could ever be replaced, not even by Alfie.

“You know I love you but you also know I'm not the same woman you fell for in Malibu. I’m my worst self when I don't have him around and your favorite parts of me don’t exist without him. Don’t pretend like you don’t see that.”

His hands twitch against his lap, his shoulders slumping because it’s true. The most lively and brightest parts of herself had died the first step she’d taken away from him that night. Sure, she’s still the most resilient and beautiful woman Alfie had ever known, but she’s never been the same since then.

She’s still in love with him and there’s nothing for him to do about it. He didn’t see it until he saw the way she sulked over Harry that night, all those years later, with a diamond ring on her finger that just seemed to weigh her down even more.

None of this means anything to her.

“It’s been three years, Y/n. Just find yourself a new best friend and move the fuck on already. I’m getting sick and tired of this.”

What he doesn’t understand is that she is, too.

-

Two weeks later.

Y/n shouldn’t be this alone at her own engagement party, but it’s the impossible things that always manage to find their way to her.

The party consisted mostly of Alfie’s friends, considering Y/n is much more of an introvert than he is and the small number of friends she does have seemed to have disappeared within the sea of unfamiliar faces. She felt lost for a moment, but when she finally found her fiancè, he had been too invested in his own friends to spare her a single one of his glances, and it soon became disheartening to wait for him to acknowledge her when the thought of her never once crossed his mind.

So she ends up on the steps of their back porch, sipping on a glass of champagne, overlooking the garden, breathing in the silence.

She closes her eyes and succumbs herself to the summer breeze, wondering what she has to do to find a single glimmer of happiness. Her life is just so sad, a labyrinth of betrayal and hurt and heartbreak she can’t ever escape.

Darkness is all she sees when she thinks about her future. There is nothing for her to look forward to. Every day will come and go the same way it has been — unwanted, dreaded, wasted, another failed attempt of contentment. It all seems so hopeless to her now.

The champagne doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to a lonely Y/n, and it isn’t nearly enough to curb her mood, either as she huffs at her empty glass, wishing she had taken another.

She sets it down next to her, placing both her elbows on her knees, getting lost in her world of sorrow, long forgotten by her lover.

Harry is the first one to find her.

He had parked his car across the street from her shared home with Alfie, and even from his distance he knew Y/n wouldn’t be inside. He knows her too well to know she wouldn’t find her place in crowded rooms where the attention is all on her, even if it was all in the comfort of her own home.

And the fact that Alfie didn’t know her senses of belonging well enough to accommodate them made him seeth. She is an independent, a lone wolf, a woman who moves solely in her own way and anybody who’s ever loved her knows that above all else.

He doesn’t care for her.

And he doesn’t need to go looking for her because he can feel her, as if the universe somehow bent its laws of gravity and pushed him straight to her back porch steps, where he finds her all alone.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a hand fall softly on her shoulder, but immediately sinks into comfort when she sees that it’s Harry moving to sit beside her, his hand refusing to pull away.

Finally, she has a friend.

“Hey.” She says softly, one of the corners of her lips turning slightly upward at his unexpected visit. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He smiles briefly at her before he overlooks the garden, his fingers squeezing at her shoulder before resting his palms over his lap. And there’s something about being next to her again that makes everything around him fall back into place. This is where he’s meant to be.

“Honestly, neither did I, all things considered.” They both let out a chuckle, the atmosphere between them so horrifically sad yet so incredibly right. “But I just really felt like I had to be here for you tonight.”

Despite the years that had passed and everything that drove them apart, Y/n remains who he loves most in this world. His connection to her never died, so the sudden gusts of off and disturbing feelings Harry used to get whenever Y/n was troubled had never left him. He felt it all just as strongly — her anxieties, her fears, her tears and everything in between. And he’s glad that part of them never died because the look in her eye tells him everything he needs to know.

She’s absolutely miserable.

She sighs, the corners of her lips falling as she stares at her engagement ring, her thumb and pinky twisting it around her ring finger, itchy and heavy no matter which way it's worn.

“Me and Alfie aren’t doing so well.”

She didn’t have to say it because he can already see how treacherous they are together, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to hear.

He lost his right to be selfish with her in Malibu, and though he does gain a sense of happiness knowing he may have a chance with her again, it’s significantly outweighed by her sadness. Nothing had ever pained him more than that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shakes her head, her fingers reaching up to tuck fallen pieces of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be. I don’t really know why he decided to do this, anyways.”

Harry’s lips fall.

“Marry you?”

Y/n’s leg begins to shake, her greatest and most absentminded nervous habit. And Harry had always been quick to place his hand over her thigh and rub at the surface, meeting her eye halfway and taking a deep breath in, to which she would always follow. He hesitates to do so tonight, but settles for it anyway.

She looks appreciative beneath it all.

She’d forgotten about Harry’s subtle favors over the past three years, so to feel it all again when she has been so low and neglected feels like a blessing to her. It feels like somebody finally cares for her, and that’s all she had been wanting all along.

Harry, she feels, is the only one who ever truly has.

“We just never talked about it. It was this big, ginormous, unavoidable, life changing question thrown at me with no warning at all.” Her forehead falls to her palms, as if humiliated by the memory. “In front of everybody.”

Harry’s heart crumbles from within him because nothing Alfie has given her has been anything she’s wanted, and that’s not what she deserves.

He remembers it so distinctively now — the way she poured her heart out to him just a few months before Malibu. It was the third Valentine’s Day they’d spent together and Y/n got so drunk, she spent nearly the entire night venting to him about everything she’d feared when it came to her future relationships.

With her head on his shoulder and her leg slung over his hips, Y/n’s thoughts were so destructive, she couldn’t bear to entertain them any longer, so she decided to let it all out.

“And what if my boyfriend proposes to me in a room full of people? I’d drown in sensory overload. And what if I want to say no? Or maybe? Or yes, just not right now? With all those people looking at me? I think I would pass away.”

Harry looked down at her in subtle curiosity, his fingers playing with her hair in the way they always liked. She was the only thing in his sight that wasn’t spinning out of his control.

“So how do you want to be proposed to?”

She hummed, as if contemplating her answer. But she knew. She already knew.

“In bed, probably. It’s so intimate and private there. So non-traditional. You’re the most done down at your first hour and something about someone wanting you at your worst, forever, is so poetic.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes merely seconds after.

“Will you make sure he does that for me, please? Promise me you’ll try.”

He smiled the best he could at her, pressing his lips down to her forehead. They lingered there for a moment, and Y/n’s breath was taken away.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

What makes the memory even worse was how much he really did love her and how blinded he was to it. He kissed her. He held her. He played with her hair. He slept beside her that night. He kissed her again goodnight. He brought her breakfast in bed the next morning. He did it all over again.

It couldn’t have been any more obvious.

But there’s something about the way she hasn’t expressed any of those concerns with Alfie that doesn’t sit right with him. It just doesn’t make any sense to him.

“Been with him for how long now, two years? And you really didn’t expect him to propose to you? Have you met you?”

She sulks herself deeper into her knees.

“I don’t know. I guess — I guess I just never really thought about it.”

Never thought about it?

“But you’ve always wanted to get married.” He says it more like a question than a statement, genuine concern and confusion in his tone of voice as his eyebrows furrow, trying to comprehend it.

She looks up at him with a void, empty expression.

“Yeah, but never to him.”

Her eyes linger on Harry’s for just a beat longer — just long enough to catch a glimpse of the way his lips fall and the way his face drains of color — before she blinks away from him, turning her gaze back toward the garden. The flowers have never looked so lifeless.

“Y/n… if I had known how you felt, I —”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back down at her trembling hands, tears now burning in her eyes as the sudden sadness of the conversation starts to weigh down on her. “You had four years to feel the same for me and you never did. My feelings would have done nothing to yours.”

“And I never did?” Harry asks incredulously, his voice low and faltered behind the heaviness of her words. “Is that really what you’ve been living with the past three years?”

Loose tears begin to fall down her cheeks because yes, she has been living with his unrequited love for six years and no, it’s never gotten any easier. It’s pathetic and ridiculous and the most unexplainable form of grief she’d ever carried, but it’s the most devastating kind. “How could I think any differently?”

“Because it was real, Y/n. Fuck.” He lets out a strangled, dry chuckle upon his words as he runs his shaking fingers through his hair. He’s nervous, absolutely terrified because if he fails to show her how deeply he feels for her now, he may never get the chance to again, and losing her is no longer an option for him. Not when she’s so close. “Because you know me better than anybody else and you know I wasn’t faking it with you. How could I have been? You would have seen right through me and you know it. You always do.”

Perhaps the love blinded her. Perhaps her heart was so invested it deceived her to see only the things she wanted as a subconscious form of self-preservation. It’s not an impossible possibility, and it’s certainly one she believed in throughout all this time, but a part of her can’t help but find a hint of truth stuck somewhere between his words.

The kissing, the touching, the tasting, the laughing and the loving did feel real to her. It felt real when she saw the way he smiled after every one of their kisses, and the way he reached for her when it was just to two of them, like he couldn’t get enough, and the way he moaned against her, and the way he told her he loved her, like he meant it.

She knows all of his movements and all of his habits — knows all the signs of his stress, his sadness, his tension, his ease. She knows the emotions he wears and the ones he doesn’t, notices everything he does and doesn’t do, and never once did anything he did with her seem anything less than genuine.

She hates that it’s taken her so long to see that, but it doesn’t fix all that he had broken now that she does. She wishes that it could, this life would be so much easier for her to live.

“You really hurt me.” Her voice quivers, low and quiet as she speaks her truth, and it breaks his heart all over again. Never has he heard her sound so sad in his life, and it’s all because of him.

“You think I don’t know that? I hate myself for everything I put you through because you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He pauses, waiting for her to say anything else, but it doesn’t come. All there is for her to offer are her silent cries and waterfall eyes.

“That night with Lydia… nothing happened. She caught me off guard and I panicked because how could I not? She was giving me everything I thought I wanted yet all I could think about was how I wanted it to be you.” Y/n’s breath falters then, a knot forming in her chest as she revisits the sight of that horrific night. “I tried so hard to talk it out with her, but she wouldn’t let it go. She kept persisting and persisting and she didn’t give me the chance to explain myself before you walked in on us.”

She didn’t truly know what happened between him and Lydia, but she had her ideas. Whether they kissed, touched, confessed their love or crossed bases, the truth would have only made it worse for herself. Ignorance was bliss when it came to them.

But she didn’t think nothing happened, either, especially when the first words that Y/n heard Lydia say to him that night was I love you, too.

Too.

Too.

Too.

Like he said it first.

She really hopes he didn’t, but she’s so afraid of his answer that she doesn’t ask.

But she doesn’t say anything else, either, because there’s so much more she needs to hear from him but she doesn’t know where to start. She doesn’t know what to do, yet she wants to know everything.

“You were all I ever wanted and I’m so sorry for the way I had to find that out. I’m so sorry that I had to hurt you to realize how ridiculously in love I am with you.”

And how ridiculous it’s gotten.

“It haunts me. It follows me everywhere I go. Every morning, I think about the way you slept beside me in Malibu and how perfect you looked before you even had the chance to wake. I still reach for you even when I know you’re not there just so I can say I tried. Every time I walk the street, I somehow convince myself that I see you walk past me and I always turn back just in case I missed you. Then I spend the rest of my day wondering where you are and how much happier I’d be if you were with me.”

And it’s all so true.

She is around him at all times. Her spirit lingers in the air he breathes, her shadow alive in every ray of sun that touches his skin, unable to be soaked away. The ghost of her is everywhere he is, always, and it pained him just as much as it comforted him.

“I come across all these women and go on all these dates in hopes to find someone that makes me feel half the things you do, just to go home hours later and watch all the stupid videos and photos I’ve taken of you throughout the years because it’s you that my heart is after. Nobody else.”

She melts into herself at his confession.

To know it wasn’t one-sided — the longing, the missing, the wanting so bad that he couldn’t help but look back at all their memories together. Whether he was beside those women or not, she had done the very same thing, and it’s almost as if those hidden moments of desperation were a silent call to one another.

He reaches his hand to her thigh again, his skin warming her to her bitter core, setting a fire in her that had burnt out many years ago. And she doesn’t stop staring at it.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything else in this world. I love you so much that it drove me crazy to think about you spending the rest of your life with somebody else because I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of mine without you. But that’s my heartbreak to live with, not yours.”

But it is. It is because he’s the only one she’s ever wanted and living her life with someone else was once unimaginable. It still is. Even through her relationship with Alfie and everything they’ve built together, it wasn’t ever the same.

And it’s not a matter of her not loving him, because she does, just not in the way she loves Harry. He is a high she constantly fiends for, an intoxication that keeps her wild and free, an addiction like no other. Being without him makes her feel sober — in a constant state of withdrawal, falling down deeper into her urges, dependent solely on her relapses — and Alfie is just the mild distraction.

All of this is her heartbreak.

His fingertips rub softly at her leg.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I don't know how I’m ever going to find a way to move on from you, and I don’t know if I ever will, but at least I had the chance to tell you everything you deserved to know. I didn’t think I’d ever have it.”

She still doesn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect anything more.

He wishes he could stay with her for just a bit longer, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome (if he could even call it that). And he starts to cry as he thinks about leaving her alone again.

She’s forever going to be his hardest loss.

“I have so much more I want to say to you, but this is your night with Alfie. I don’t want to be the one to hold you back from it.”

He squeezes the top of her thigh, dreading the let go. This may be the last time he sees her or speaks to her for a while, and that in itself is enough to make this so much harder on him.

“I’ll miss you everyday.”

He can’t even look at her as he says it.

His eyes are flooded with sadness as he stands from where he sat beside her, shaking fingers wiping at his tears, his heart the emptiest it’s ever been yet his chest heavier than ever before.

It suddenly dawns on her that she never wants to see him walk away from her again. She doesn’t want to go another dreaded day without him beside her, or go the rest of the night thinking of everything she could have said, but didn’t.

She wants him. She loves him. And she doesn’t want him to go.

“Wait.” She grabs his hand in both of hers before he can make it too far, her eyes wet but the brightest he’d ever seen them. “The party doesn’t end for a while and — and Alfie hasn’t come looking for me since it started, so…” She hesitates, his hands still in hers, and everything is right in the world again. “Do you want to take a walk with me? It doesn’t matter where just, please stay here with me?”

And how could Harry ever say no to her?

He lifts her up from where she sits, the first real and genuine smile he’s seen out of her since they’ve reunited spreading on her lips, and he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

They stray further than expected, catching up on everything they’ve missed throughout the years. It all feels so easy and so right, as if time had hardly passed between them, yet they’ve never felt more apart. Never once did they expect to live in each other’s world through late night storytelling and clandestine getaways.

They laugh. They cry. They reminisce. And they don’t let go of each other’s hand the whole night through.

-

Y/n returns to the back porch a couple hours later, grabbing the finished champagne glass she’d left on the top step to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Not that she necessarily has to, she doesn’t feel as though she���s done anything wrong, she just couldn’t imagine what would come from this if Alfie was to find out.

She slides the back door shut quietly behind her, the remaining guests only giving her a small smile of acknowledgement, none at all suspicious. Some offer her hugs and mingle with her, congratulating her as if it were their first time doing so, telling her how perfect of a marriage she and Alfie are going to have.

If only they knew.

But it isn’t until the last of the lingering guests make it out the door that Y/n and Alfie are left alone — the most dangerous place for them to be. And neither of them speak a word to each other, just meeting eyes for a brief moment in time, as if avoiding everything else that came with the night.

The air is heavy, the chill brutal, but it’s what Y/n is so used to. This is her normalcy.

“I’m glad you had fun tonight.” Y/n says plainly, gathering all the littered champagne and wine glasses floating around the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, she would have stood her ground much more strongly, but the bitterness inside her subsided to something much sweeter after her time with Harry. The weight of the world is gone, it seems, the moon and sun and stars aligned perfectly in her universe. She is weightless, floating, her spirit dancing along the edges of her own personal heaven.

The silence Alfie responds with doesn’t strike a nerve like it usually would. It rather goes unnoticed, only furthering her into her illicit dreamland.

Harry’s touch lingers on her skin and she can feel it all the same even though he’s gone. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks back to the way his lips pressed against her cheek before parting ways, muttering the quietest goodnight, lovie against her skin, leaving her breathless.

She is endlessly hypnotized by him, forever under his spell, as if his lips were made of magic.

And Alfie’s heart sinks when he sees the look on her face. It’s been years since he’s seen it, yet it’s all so familiar once he does. It’s the same look he fell in love with when he first met her in Malibu.

It’s all so clear to him now.

“So we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave our engagement party with Harry?”

Y/n lifts her head to look at him properly for what seems to be the first time tonight, his question catching her off guard since she had so rightfully assumed he wasn’t concerned about her whereabouts, and Harry didn’t make his presence known to anybody but her.

But she doesn’t fight it, doesn’t deny it, doesn’t try to scrape for excuses that’ll only dig her in deeper because she doesn’t regret what she did or why she did it. She has no reason to.

“And we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t completely exclude me from our engagement party?”

Alfie’s hands slam against the kitchen counter, a bitter and sarcastic laugh falling from his lips, as if she had said something untrue. “So I don’t give you attention for two minutes and you decide to run off with some other guy?”

“Two minutes? Try two hours on a night that was supposed to be for us.” It’s her turn to slam her hands down, except hers land on her thighs. “I was sitting on our back porch all night and nobody, not even you, came looking for me.” She sits down on the island stool with burnt-out eyes and heavy shoulders, drained from the reality of their relationship, tired of trying for somebody that’s never held her heart the right way. “Harry was miles away and even he found a way to find me.”

And just like always, it all circles back to Harry.

She’s never been one to compare — verbally, at least — so there is a gloom that hovers over her after she says it, the guilt settling in her bones, but it’s the reality of their situation. An old lover held his hand out to her while Alfie refused hers, and it ended up exactly where it had always belonged.

“All you had to do was ask me to be with you.” He sighs, depleted, because it’s true. He would have been there the second she called his name. It’s the fact that she didn’t that shows him how incompatible he is with her wants.

“I shouldn’t have to.” She frowns, fingers fiddling with the skin around her nails as she contemplates what there is to say next. “Is that how this marriage is going to work? Me begging you to be there for me all the time? Because I’ve never been that kind of person. I will never be that person.”

Alfie breathes heavily in response but doesn’t know what else to do or say to get her to stay. She’s slipping right through his fingers and he can physically feel it — can feel the way she feels for another man, can see the way her eyes refuse him, as if hiding away from something.

But this isn’t about him, it can’t be because it was all going so well, so much better than ever before and nothing ever pushed her away, until Harry.

This is all him.

“You know he doesn’t love you, right?” Alfie breaks the silence, her heart along with it, because she needs to be reminded how badly he had done her wrong. She wouldn’t be turning him into the villain if she did. “He lied to you. He used you to get what he wanted. He —”

“He does love me.” She interrupts him because she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want him to talk her out of this, no matter how much she should. But it’s on the tip of her tongue, almost breaking from its resistance, and she can’t swallow it back down now. “He was there for me more than you were tonight and he’s not even the one I’m engaged to.”

Another deafening silence.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He understood her, loud and clear, but she’s speaking between the lines. There’s a part of her that’s holding back from something and he already knows what it is, he just needs to hear her say it.

So she does.

“I’m in love with him, Alfie.”

If the confession of her disloyalty wasn’t enough to tear her apart, the choked back sob she heard from Alfie undeniably did so.

She shuts her eyes, pained, unable to take it.

He doesn’t deserve this, but she’s left with no choice. She’ll only hurt him more if she stays.

So she doesn’t.

-

The morning after.

Harry didn’t know what was to come after he confessed his love to Y/n — whether it be a new day of a new life away from her, or the beginning of something so beautifully timeless, he had no idea.

The closure warmed him enough to lull him to sleep, to keep him deep in a dreamstate where all he envisioned was sunny days and the touch of her hand in his. He had never felt so light, so free, so liberated from the cage of guilt and unspoken truths that even if he were to never see or hear from Y/n again, it would have been okay.

He said what he needed to say, she heard what she wanted to hear and that’s all he could have done without interfering with her relationship.

But what he wakes up to is far from anything that ever crossed his mind.

Seven missed calls and five text messages. All from Y/n.

H, please tell me you’re awake. I need you.

I ended it with Alfie.

I don’t have anywhere to go and you’re the only person I want to see right now. Can you meet me at the coffee shop? I really need to talk to you.

Please wake up.

H?

Harry sits himself up in a state of panic, his eyes jumping between the time she had messaged him last and the time it is now. And he springs himself out of bed when he realizes that he hasn’t missed out on her yet, planning to get to her as fast as he can as he throws yesterday’s outfit, not at all caring about how it makes him look.

She ended it with Alfie.

He’s the only person she wants to see right now.

She needs him.

That’s all he can process as he scurries down the street, thinking of everything he has left to tell her to try and win her heart again. He knows he’s undeserving of it, and she does too, but that doesn’t stop him from loving her the way that he does.

His life is meaningless without her, so dry and bleak and depressing he can’t live another day like it. He can’t and he won’t because he’s going to fix this. He has to fix this.

And it doesn’t take him long to find her because there she is, sitting at their usual outdoor table, a large hot tea held between her hands, her leg shaking, her eyes distant. It's such a heartbreaking sight, and he suddenly wonders if she ever sat there after their breakup, waiting for him, hoping he’d do the very same.

The thought makes his head twitch to the side and fingers twist with guilt because no, he never did. He never went back to that coffee shop since the goodbye. It would have hurt too much, it would have reminded him of everything he’d ever done wrong and he couldn’t bear to face the person he once made of himself.

That person died along with her.

She stands from her seat when she sees him walking toward her, exhausted mentally and physically enough to nearly fall from her feet in the process. But her heart is racing a million miles an hour, her stomach fluttering as he grows nearer, her senses of anything but the love she has for him disappearing to nothing, as if it were just the two of them.

And she just needs to know if it feels that way for him, too.

“Y/n —”

“Did you mean it?”

Harry hesitates then, stopping in his tracks, his head tilting at her in curiosity but his features are softer, sadder, as if the question somehow broke him down further than before.

She doesn’t need to elaborate because he already understands what she’s asking. It was his mistakes and his selfishness that led her to question all his intentions, to doubt every sentiment he’s ever given to her, to wonder what was real and what was pretend.

But he doesn’t know what to start with, he doesn’t know what she needs to hear from him to be satisfied with his answer, or know if what he doesn’t say is what breaks this relationship.

“I need you to look at me and tell me that you meant it.” Y/n demands when he fails to answer her, tears flooding yet her face pressed and hard, committed to hearing every last bit of truth he has left. “Because I gave up everything I had for just the smallest possibility that you did. And that may make me weak, that may make me pathetic, and I may hate myself for the rest of my life knowing I made that decision but I can’t help feeling the way I feel for you.”

This is his last chance.

The window of opportunity is open and he is more than willing to dive head first out of it, but he can’t get ahead of himself. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong anything and he will have to endure an eternity of misery without her.

So he gives her more than she demands.

He grabs her face between his two hands, gently stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his gaze set on hers so that she can see how deeply he feels for her and how desperate he is for her forgiveness.

“I meant it.” He breathes out, his lips so painfully close to hers, she can feel his breath as he talks and it makes her legs shake from beneath her. “I’m in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.” He leans in closer, ever so slightly, just so the ghost of her lips can meet the ghost of his. “There’s never been anybody but you. Just you. Only you.”

Her breath stammers, quivering and cracking as she flutters her eyes shut at his words, unforgiving tears pouring down her cheeks. And she doesn’t know why she’s reacting this way — the love of her life is giving her everything she’s ever asked for and yet all she can manage to do is break down from everything she’d been keeping inside for so long.

He knees buckle as a particularly violent sob nearly takes her down, and if it wasn’t for Harry’s strong hold on her, she’s sure she would have collapsed to the floor.

Her tears, his shirt, his hands, her back.

This is the closest they’ve been to each other in so long, his heart nearly shatters along with hers. He missed this more than he missed anything else in this world.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s alright. You’re alright.” Harry shushes her, his lips settling on the top of her head as he presses chaste kisses on it, his fingers combing through her unbrushed hair. “I’m with you, okay? I’m never leaving you again.”

And he holds her for a while, tying her together as she falls apart in his arms, vowing to her over and over again that this is all over. All the pain is over. Everything will be different now.

And it was.

It felt different when Y/n and Harry spent the rest of the morning sitting in their favorite coffee shop, at their favorite table, drinking their favorite lattes. It felt different when Harry reached his hand over to hold hers, this time with no ulterior motive.

It felt different when she held his hand back, and when she smiled down at where they were intertwined, as if they were an extension of each other.

And unlike the last time they were there together, he doesn’t have to let go.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #IM EARLY I KNOW IM SORRY BUT I FINISHED SOONER THAN EXPECTED #WHOOP WHOOP #LOVE YALL

[tea-stained-notes]

Bucky Barnes x Reader - Keep My Distance

And I will make sure to keep my distance, Say I love you when you're not listening, How long can we keep this up? Christina Perri – Distance

Y/N is never certain of anything. Except this: She is in love with Bucky Barnes. And she can never tell him. But what if the truth slips out?

"Distance" by Christina Perri came on and this bitch was inspired. Half a day of frantic typing later and I give you... *gestures vaguely at 200 pounds of refined sugar* this. Enjoy?

Warnings: angst galore

Word Count: ~2500

I’ve never been a person of certainty. I let other people choose for me at restaurants to avoid the overwhelming selection on the menu. I keep scrolling through Netflix until I fall asleep before settling on anything to watch. I fail hopelessly at finding something to do on our rare days off at the compound. I’m the person who weighs options until they crush her. But there is a singular thing I am absolutely certain of: I’m in love with James Buchanan Barnes. Ever since my first day with the team when his ocean eyes settled on me during Tony’s little introduction speech that had me blushing profusely. I hated being the center of attention. But God, did I love Bucky’s attention. The glimmer in his eyes while a faint smile clung to his lips. And when he talked to me after, earnestly listening to my stories, my name rolling gently off his tongue – I was a goner. He makes me feel flustered yet calm, has my back in fights and is not afraid to put his life into my hands. Our trust in each other has often been my only anchor when we’re huddled in darkness somewhere, riddled with tension and fear as menacing enemies draw close. And it is this unbound trust that I would never dare to break. His sleepy morning smiles in the kitchen, his sarcastic quips during training sessions — he is so perfectly at ease around me, more comfortable in our friendship than with anyone else at the compound. No matter how it tears me up inside to tiptoe around invisible lines, how could I ever risk destroying that? Risk losing him? So I confess my feelings over and over when he is not around to hear. “I love you.” I whisper it into the dark when I lie alone in bed. I let the words be smothered by steaming showers. I mouth them silently as I pour him coffee in the morning while he’s making my favorite cereal. I try to get it out of my system, waste the words on nothing so they won’t slip from my mouth in an unguarded moment, won’t scare him away with their heaviness and unrequited longing. He cares deeply about me, I know he does. But he’s never given me the slightest indication that he wants to be something other than friends, colleagues, companions. And I try to be grateful that I get to be all those things to the man who haunts my every dream and nightmare.

Steve, Bucky and I have gathered in the training room for our daily session, but as much as I try to focus on my exercises, my gaze keeps wandering over to Bucky. It’s been a hectic couple of weeks and we’ve mostly been on separate missions, so missing him has only been adding fuel to the fire of my complicated emotions. “Y/N, heads up!” Steve throws a heavy medicine ball at me with frightening speed and I don’t manage to catch it before it barrels straight into my forehead. I topple over from the impact, hissing at the sharp pain shooting through my head and up my tailbone. Within seconds Steve is by my side, golden boy face frowning in concern. “I’m so sorry, you usually catch that thing without even looking.” “It’s not your fault, I just–“ “What the hell, Rogers?” Bucky presses the words through gritted teeth as he sinks to the ground before me, his eyes inspecting mine anxiously. “I was distracted, he didn’t mean to…” My words come out slightly slurred and I can barely hear them over the ringing in my ears. The overhead neon lights are suddenly painfully bright and nausea’s rising in my throat. “Y/N, can you hear me?” Any traces of anger have left Bucky’s voice, it’s all fear and worry now. I try to look up at him, but his face shifts in and out of focus. “I think… I… have a con… concussion,” I manage before closing my eyes to shield them from the unforgiving light. “Shh, it’s okay. No more talking, sweetheart. I’ll take you to the medical wing.” Bucky’s arms slide around me to gently lift me up and I wish I could enjoy his perfect scent and warmth instead of trying my hardest not to vomit. “I can carry her, Buck.” “You’ve done enough.” Steve tries to say something but Bucky is already heading towards the doors. When we’re out in the hallway I suddenly panic. The thought of the brightly-lit medical wing with its beeping machines and horrid smell of disinfectant makes my stomach turn. It’s the very last place I want to be right now. “Please… just take me to my room.” “You need a doctor to have a look at you, darling.” “No, I just want my own bed, please. Please, James.” His breath hitches. I rarely call him by his given name. Not unless I’m dead serious about something. “Y/N, that was a pretty bad hit and you’re obviously out of it, I–“ “Take me to my room and call for the doctor.” It’s getting harder to form words but Bucky understands and finally gives in. “Fine. But I’m gonna stay with you.” I can’t help the tiny smile forming on my lips.

“There you go.” Bucky lays me down on the bed, careful as if might just break underneath his fingers. The dim room and soft mattress are heavenly but my heart immediately aches at the loss of his body around mine. He slips off my shoes, then pulls the blanket over me. His hand cups my face, thumb briefly caressing my cheek. Despite the splitting headache and queasiness I practically melt into his palm. “I need you to stay awake, Y/N. Can you do that for me? I’m gonna call the doctor now.” I hum faintly, trying not to let my eyes flutter closed.  My brain tunes out his hushed voice as he makes the call and only registers the dipping of the bed when he sits down next to me. “You still with me, sweetheart?” I’m only just now noticing his pet names. He never calls me by anything other than my first or last name. Sometimes an obnoxious nickname he makes up on the spot. But never this. “Yeah,” I whisper. “Why were you so distracted anyway? You’re usually so focused during workouts.” I swallow. “I don’t know,” I say unconvincingly. “But I’ll be fine. You’ve seen me hurt before, ‘s all good.” My words are getting slurred again. “Yeah, but just the occasional cut or sprain, nothing like this. You’re scaring me.” The sudden vulnerability in his voice punctures my heart. My fingers fumble around before finding his and linking them loosely. “I’m not scared. I’m never scared as long as you’re there,” I mumble. “Y/N…” A knock on the door startles us both. Bucky clears his throat. “Come in.” A middle-aged woman enters. I recognize her as the new doctor. “Hi, Miss Y/L/N. I hear you’ve had a run-in with Captain America?”

Endless tests later the doctor is giving me a quizzical look. “It’s only a mild concussion. But I’d still like to take you to the medical wing to keep you under observation.” “No, I’m fine. Tell her, Buck.” I’m exhausted from the medical exam and I’ve never longed for sleep so much in my life. Bucky smiles faintly. “I’ll stay with her. I can stay awake for a couple of days, no problem.” “This is certainly an interesting new workplace.” The doctor sighs. “Fine then. I’ll be back to check on her regularly. Make sure she gets plenty of rest. No strenuous mental activities, no pain killers. And if any of the symptoms worsen, call me immediately.” “Yes, ma’am.” “Feel better, Miss Y/L/N.” I nod and finally let my heavy eyelids slide shut as she leaves. “Are you comfortable? Warm enough?” “Yeah.” He sits back down, pleasant heat radiating off of him. His hand softly strokes my hair and I silently thank Steve for the stupid accident. Bucky might never get this close to me again and I revel in his tender affection, no matter how fleeting. Sleep is closing in on me fast, fogging my brain. My last tether to the world is his gentle touch. And then my lips curve around the familiar words, spoken so often they flow like honey. “I love you.” Bucky’s little gasp almost yanks me back into reality, but before I can panic or even fathom what I’ve done, slumber is crashing over me like a tidal wave, pulling me deeply into unconscious bliss.

I wake to Bucky holding my hand, his thumb drawing mindless circles over my knuckles. He’s staring off into the middle distance, lost in thought. My heart speeds up at the feeling of his warm fingers on mine. What on earth…? “Buck?” My voice is raspy and he flinches. Then his eyes lock on mine, immediately darkening with concern. “How are you feeling?” “My head hurts. Bit sick as well. Did something happen?” His features slip but he quickly composes himself. “You don’t remember?” I rummage through my brain, trying to hold onto fuzzy images. The headache worsens and I groan a little. “There was… Steve. And a ball?” “Yeah, that idiot knocked you out with a medicine ball. I’m gonna kill him for that later.” I chuckle lightly. “Must’ve looked so stupid. Like a cartoon character getting whacked with an anvil or something.” A grin spreads over Bucky’s face. “Kinda did actually. And stubborn as you are you didn’t want to go the medical wing, so I brought you here.” “Right, and the doctor came to see me. She was nice.” He nods and reaches for a glass of water on the nightstand. I take it gratefully. He watches me drink, examining me closely. “You seem a little better. But you’ll need to take it easy for a few days.” “I know.” It feels like something has shifted between us, almost imperceptibly. Something in his gaze is a shade too intense, too intimate. “I could read to you for a bit if you’d like.” Bucky points to the book on my nightstand. It’s one of his. Since he knows that I struggle to settle on books to read, he always brings me his after he’s finished. They never disappoint and it’s one of the many things I cherish about him. “I’d love that.” He winces at the words and my brow creases. “You okay?” His teeth are buried deep into his bottom lip, his eyes glued to the floor. And although the light is dim I can make out the blush dusting his cheeks. Seconds pass and I’m growing uneasy. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing. It’s silly, you were barely conscious, it was nothing…” “What was? Bucky, tell me.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath, then drags his gaze up to meet mine. “You told me you loved me, Y/N.” My face falls as hot and cold shivers race across my skin. Heart pounding, palms sweaty, I just lie there, staring up at my best friend who now knows my best-kept secret. “I– I’m so… I’m so sorry…” My mouth goes dry as I fumble for words. “I didn’t… I–“ “You didn’t mean it.” Something breaks in his eyes and only then do I realize what was residing there. Hope. “I didn’t mean to tell you,” I whisper. We both stop breathing. He is so close yet so far away and my whole body aches with shame and longing. “This doesn’t have to change anything between us. We can keep being friends. I’ve held it in for so long, I don’t mind–“ “How long?” “What?” “How long have you been feeling this way about me, Y/N?” A mess of emotions is flitting over his features and I have absolutely no idea what he’s thinking. “I… I think I fell for you that first day.” It sounds so pathetic. I wish I could just bury myself into the pillows and never come up for air again. And then he starts laughing. My cheeks are on fire and I want nothing more than for Steve to burst through the door and finish the job. Never have I made such a complete fool of myself. Bucky notices the look on my face and swiftly reaches for my hand. “No, sweetheart, I’m not laughing at you. Well, not just at you.” He laces his fingers with mine and my brain has stopped trying to process anything anymore. “We’re both such fucking idiots. Honestly, it’s absurd.” “I’m glad my misery is amusing to you but you’re making zero sense right now.” He lifts our entwined hands and places a soft kiss on the back of mine. “I fell for you that first day, too.” My head is spinning and I wonder if my concussion is worse than I thought and this is all just some wild hallucination. “You what?” “I love you, Y/N. I’m so madly in love with you.” “You… what?” He laughs again, his entire body trembling as he wipes away tears. “I don’t know if this is all just a little too much right now or if your poor brain is short-circuiting and we’ll have to do this all over again the next time you wake up.” I start laughing as well, completely incredulous. “You… You love me?” “Yes.” Bucky leans forward to press a kiss to my forehead. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” With every word he litters kisses all over my face and I start giggling at his beard tickling me and the purest form of happiness flooding through my veins. Finally, he cups my face in both hands, his eyes glowing with affection. “Can you say it again? Please?” I look up at his perfect features, delirious and reeling from everything that’s just happened. “I love you, James.” He briefly closes his eyes. “Again.” “I love you, I love you, I love–“ His lips capture mine in a fervent kiss and it's like fire and magic and coming home. My hands sink into his hair, pulling him further into me. He feels so much better than I could have ever imagined. So… real. After a while he breaks away with a huge grin, pressing his forehead against mine. We’re both panting. “I’m afraid that was way too much strenuous mental – and physical – activity.” His chuckle vibrates through me and I can’t help but smile. “Couldn’t care less.” “Good thing I care so much then.” Bucky gently pulls away from me and laughs at my little whine. Then he toes off his shoes and walks around the bed to slip under the blanket beside me. “Sleep, darling. I’m not going anywhere.” “Promise?” I say with a yawn as I snuggle into his chest. “Promise.”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Peace | Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You and Bucky get in an argument and you go MIA for a couple days.

A/N: I’m a litle iffy about this one. I didn’t care for the beginning but I really liked how the end turned out. I hope you guys enjoy! xx 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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“No, you can’t do this, Bucky!” You follow Bucky into your shared bedroom as he begins packing a bag. He got it into his head that he was more than capable to help Sam out on this new mission. However, it would be against the rules of the pardon the president gave him for being the Winter Soldier. 

“Sam needs my help, y/n. I can’t leave him to go alone on this mission.”  

“Sam does not need your help. If you go on this mission and get caught, they could take away your pardon and put you in jail. For life!”  

“That’s why we won’t get caught.”  

“There is no guarantee of that.” You shake your head and cross your arms over your chest. Bucky wasn’t seeing things clearly and it only angered you more that he was willing to put his freedom on the line for a mission. Especially after everything you and him went through to get to this very moment. It was like he was throwing all this hard work away.  

“I have to go.” He says, facing you. His voice is stern, “This isn’t up for negotiation.”  

“You do not have to go! You are not obligated to do anything someone tells you anymore. You’re a free man, Bucky.” You grasp his hands in yours, “You and I are free to live our lives, Bucky.. no crazy missions, no wars, no danger. We can be a normal couple.”  

“We can’t be a normal couple y/n,” He lets go of your hands, “Not with a past like mine.” He grabs his bag from the bed then stares into your tear-filled eyes.  

“We worked our asses off to get here today, Bucky! Those hours we spent in therapy, the hours spent trying to figure out how to move past your winter soldier days. You’re throwing all of it away on a mission! You’re.. you’re throwing a future with me away.”  

“He needs my help.” Is all he says as he pushes passed you. 

“If you walk out that door, Bucky Barnes, I promise you, that I will not be here when you get back.” You warn with tear filled eyes. You’d hoped Bucky’s love for you and the fear of losing you would overpower his overwhelming desire to help people when they need it even if it wasn’t the right thing to do. You didn’t know at the time if you truly meant the words spoken and if you could really bring yourself to leave Bucky even after everything the two of you had been through.  

He doesn’t turn around or even look back at you over his shoulder and instead walks through the door, leaving you standing alone in your once shared bedroom. That was the only answer you needed.

  ~ 

 Bucky left for that mission with Sam and you packed all your things heading for your favorite place, y/f/p. There were no avengers around you so there was no one to tell where you would be. No one knew of your location except for you, and this was probably toxic to think about, but you hoped it scared Bucky that he didn’t know where you would be. It was wrong of him to choose a mission over you, and you wanted him to see that. Yeah, it probably wasn’t the best way to show him, but you told him if he walked out the door you wouldn’t be there so you’re just sticking to your word.  

In all honesty, Bucky didn’t think you were serious about leaving and that it was an in the moment thing for you to say. You’d been there for him during his recovery and he knew he didn’t make it easy on you but still you chose to stay. He was grateful to have you by his side especially after everyone around him left.  

He was in for a rude awakening when he opened the door to your shared apartment. “Y/n? Doll?” He kicked off his shoes, knowing you hated when he tracked in dirt on his shoes. When you didn’t answer he proceeded through the apartment, only to find your favorite blanket that occupied the back of the couch was gone. 

 “y/n?” He called out once more, but no answer. As he made his way through the house, he realized none of your things were in the place you left them. When he entered the bedroom, he immediately started going through the drawers, but none of your things were in them. He pulled the door to the closet open and the only clothes occupying it were his.  

You’d left him and it was all his fault. 

~ 

He spent the next hour trying not to destroy the apartment. You had really left him, and he had no idea where you had gone. He called your phone, but it went straight to voicemail. He called Sam, but he had no idea where you’d be either.

Nat was dead; Wanda was off somewhere so that ruled out two people you would have told. Thor was in space with the Guardian’s. There had been no one for you to tell and he suddenly realized the severity of the situation. You were really gone, and he might never see you again.  

~  

It was a few days later and you decided to turn your phone back on. It was spammed with dozens of texts, calls and voicemails from Bucky. You tapped on a random voicemail and Bucky’s voice filled your ears.

“Doll… Please.” He’d been crying and his voice cracked, “I need you. I can’t do this without you and I was stupid to think some mission would fill my void of needing to do something.” He sniffles, “I finally have peace; something I haven’t had in a while and I guess I felt like a mission would make me feel better. That it would make me feel more like myself, but it wasn’t it. It wasn’t the answer.” There was a soft and quiet sob, “I need you, y/n. Please don’t do this, don’t leave me. I don’t have anyone else and you’re all I have.” More sobs, “You’re all I have,” and then the line beeped, ending the voicemail. 

You would be lying if you weren’t crying by the end of the message. The sound of Bucky’s broken voice and the sobs. Now, everything began to make sense. Why he left, why he needed to go on that mission. He was beginning to feel peace after fighting war after war and thought that he needed to be fighting a war, doing something. It was his trauma response.  

~  

It was late when you entered the apartment and you figured Bucky would be asleep, so you were quiet. You headed for your bedroom and were surprised to find Bucky not in bed, but he was laid on the floor next to the bed. He hadn’t slept on the floor since he’d come home from fighting Thanos.  

You set your things down in the floor and immediately made your way to him, “Bucky.”  

He stirred in his sleep and you called out his name once more. You didn’t want to scare him by sneaking up on him. That was something you two had learned after the first time you did that trying to sneak into bed, careful not to wake him. He woke up in a panic and had attacked you. It was after that you two decided therapy would be a good idea. 

“Bucky.”  

He inhaled as he woke, his eyes scanning for danger, but he only sees yours, “Y/n.” He breaths out in relief. 

Crawling next to him you laid down, your head going to his chest and you wrapped your free arm around him, “I’m here.”  

His arms engulfed your body and he couldn’t help but start to sob. He just knew he’d lost you for good and it was all his fault. He’d been alone all those years and then you came along, and he didn’t want to be alone again.  

You only tightened your arm around him, “I’m not going anywhere.”  

You two laid like that the rest of the night, enveloped in each other’s arms. This was the peace Bucky longed for; the peace Bucky deserved. You were his peace, and he wasn’t going to lose it again. 

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[whump-a-la-mode]

Hi! First of all, your writing is ASTOUNDING. I adore how you characterize. Secondly, I have a prompt idea:

A Villain who is falling in love with a Hero, but won’t admit it to themself. They stop being able to effectively fight Hero because they don’t want to hurt them. But Supervillain notices, so they capture Hero and use them to lure Villain in.

-Wicky

🥺🥺🥺 Thank you so very much! You just made my day. I thank you for the compliment and the prompt! I sure hope I did it justice, and I hope you enjoy!

CW//Injuries, threats, implied torture

Villain’s world spun as their skull cracked against the rough concrete of the roof. Opening their eyes, their field of vision was filled with only an array of stars.

Everything hurt.

They were convinced, in that moment, that there was not an inch of their flesh that was left unbruised, not a rib left unfractured. Breathing on its own was an ordeal, an ordeal that they endured only out of pure necessity.

Pain rippled through the stocks of jelly they had once called limbs as the villain scrambled first to hands and knees, and finally to their feet, even as unsteady as they were. They could do nothing but gasp as they faced down their opponent.

There was something in Hero’s eyes. Something that even their nemesis, their sworn, life-long foe could not quite name. It was not quite sympathy, no, but it was not quite pity, either. Something inbetween, perhaps, with only the slightest garnishing of regret.

“Come on, Villain.” It was with a pleading tone that the hero spoke, as though attempting to coax a frightened cat down from the top branches of a Redwood tree. “Just stand down! You can’t win this. We have you surrounded. No harm will come to you- No more harm.”

Yet, the villain only shook their head.

For any outsider, the matchup would have looked more like a massacre, waiting to happen. Villain themself was perhaps not the picture of musculature, but what villain was? No, they may not have been the strongest. But everyone knew what power they held in their palms, the lightning they could unleash at will. Enough to topple the building upon which they stood. Enough to topple the whole city, perhaps. The city had yet to so much as see their full potential.

But it was their potential that the villain now refused to use.

Hero, on the other hand, was... well, they weren’t much. As strong as they were, as clever, as smart, superstrength could only do one so much good. Villain could have destroyed them in passing, with the snap of a finger!

Why wasn’t the hero in the nearest emergency room? Even Villain themself wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’m not giving up, asshole!” They snarled, balling their hands to fists. It would be so easy. So very simple to send a torrent of lightning forth, to shock Hero within an inch of their life. Hell, Villain used their powers to make popcorn on the weekends!

But, they couldn’t. They couldn’t imagine Hero, the poor thing, the pitiful little fool, fallen to the ground. The very thought of using their powers against their opponent made them feel sick.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Hero spoke, eyes wide and glimmering with that same mix of sympathy and regret.

“Too bad.”

And, with that, the rooftop once more became a battleground. Villain surged forward, met in the center by their nemesis. A blow to the side of their head sent them stumbling.

They couldn’t go on like this, they knew as their vision clouded once more with stars. Another hit and they would be unconscious, in the custody of the so-called good guys. They couldn’t do that.

They had two choices.

Three. Three choices.

The first? To take the hit. To bite the bullet, to find themself behind bars.

The second? To hurt Hero. To wipe that oh-so-innocent quiver from their lips. To destroy-

No. They had two options. That wasn’t even on the table. Villain could be beaten, or they could flee.

It was with a shivering gasp that they chose the second.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Sidekick placed down their fork with a resounding clack. In the silent room, the sound resembled the ring of a gong.

“Are you absolutely certain you’re alright?” They asked with a quirked brow. With the day turning to evening, they had left their sidekick’s uniform behind, replaced now with a casual set of garments. After all, the restaurant at which they were eating was far from fancy. That wasn’t the type of villain that their mentor was.

“Of course I’m alright. Do I look like some kind of ailing senior citizen?” Villain muttered under their breath as they looked over in displeasure at their sidekick. For someone so young, they certainly had a mouth.

“Not now. But on the battlefield last night-”

“I’m fine. I’m up and walking, aren’t I?”

“It’s not about that.” Sidekick shook their head. “It was in the battle. You could’ve taken out Hero easy-”

“Keep your voice down, we’re in public.”

“Sorry.” They lowered their tone. “But, I’ve seen you take Hero out dozens of times. Recently, though, you’ve been all over the place. You can’t even land a single hit! I’m worried. You’ve lost your edge. Up on that rooftop, it was like you were somewhere else entirely.”

Villain had been somewhere else entirely, not that they would ever dare to admit it. They had been lost, hopelessly lost- Lost in the eyes of their damn nemesis.

“I just wasn’t on the ball. Everyone has off days.” They grumbled, turning their embarrassed gaze away.

“Everyone has off days. But you’ve been having an off month! Don’t think I haven’t noticed that it’s just them. Just Hero.”

“They’re getting better.”

“So are you.”

“Really, I’m fine.”

Sidekick reached across the table, placing their palm upon the back of their mentor’s hand, which had unconsciously been balled into a fist.

“You nearly got captured, last night. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Villain. If you’re sick, if something’s wrong, anything at all, you need to tell me.”

Villain suddenly spotted something very interesting on their shoes, and kept their gaze fixed there.

“It’s stupid.”

“Are you sick? Everyone gets sick sometimes, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Not sick.”

“Then what?”

Villain gritted their teeth.

“Lovesick.”

Sidekick withdrew their hand in shock.

“What?”

“Look, it’s stupid! I don’t know. I shouldn’t be feeling that way about a hero, but- They’re a good person, I swear it. They want to help, and they’re kind, and I just can’t bear the thought of hurting them. What if I changed them? What if I hurt them, and that was what made them lose hope, lose faith? Then that’d be on my shoulders!”

“You’re saying...” Sidekick’s jaw was still ajar in shock. “You’re saying that you can’t fight Hero, because you’re in love with them?”

Villain looked up with a sigh.

“To put it shortly, I suppose.”

The both of them were shocked as a figure appeared next to their table. A sharply-dressed figure with a notepad.

“Are you two ready to order?”

“Yes, my apologies.” Villain cleared their throat. They and their sidekick presented their orders, which the waiter scrawled down with a series of understanding nods.

It was not until that particular waiter disappeared from the dining room that they slipped out of their disguise, and dialed a number into their phone.

“Hey, Boss? You might wanna hear about this.”

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To say Villain was in a bad mood would have been an understatement.

The injuries covering every last inch of their body, too, ached with every step they took. Bruises and beatings rippled, forcing them nearly to limp. Yet, they forced their gait to remain normal, even if it meant pain.

They couldn’t call attention to themself. Not when they were in civilian clothes like this, and not when they were on the streets. Still, they kept their head low and their sweatshirt hoodie up as they went along. No need to stick out in the crowd.

This was the only solace they ever got, after all. When some got frustrated, they would go for a drive in the night. But their vehicle was distinctive enough that that wasn’t an option for the villain.

Instead? They walked, moving along with the crowd as though they were a single fish in a school. Usually, this helped them calm down. Now, however, every step they took only made their thoughts spin more wildly.

First, it was Hero. Hero and their stupid eyes. Then it was Sidekick. It wasn’t that Sidekick had confronted them that made them so worried, it was that they’d noticed at all.

That meant that other people out there might spot their weakness. Might use it as an advantage. Who would it be, though? Hero themself? Or, even-

A gasp rippled through the crowd around them in a wave. Voices shouted and fingers pointed, all in the same direction. Villain wiggled their way out of the crowd in order to see what had caused such fuss.

A billboard. An electronic billboard.

An electronic billboard that no longer housed an advertisement for the latest cellphone or insurance scam. No. Upon the massive thing, multiple stories in height, surely, was broadcasted a video.

“Good evening, and I do apologize for interrupting. But I just had to get my friend’s attention.”

Villain’s breath caught in their throat. They would know that voice even if they had to pick it out of a crowd of thousands.

Most would have expected that two people so similar as Villain and Supervillain would get along, but the reality was just the opposite. Villain couldn’t call themself a good guy, no, but they had ethics. Morals. Real aims to work towards, rather than burning the city down and laughing among the flames.

Supervillain, on the other hand? There was a reason that they were so feared. Their goals were far grander than Villain’s.

To say that they had never been very good friends would be an understatement.

And, now? Now they were enemies. The video projected upon that billboard made that fact certain.

Supervillain themself was not visible in frame-- Perhaps that was lucky for Villain. Seeing that stupid face would have certainly goaded them into destroying the projection outright. Instead, the video displayed a room.

A concrete room, with a chair in the center. A chair that was far from empty.

It was always Hero’s eyes that they could not help but get lost in. Now, that wasn’t a factor. Not when the hero was so tightly blindfolded. Their soothing, calming voice, too, had been eliminated-- the cloth gag in their mouth was already soaked-through with spittle.

Tied to the chair, bound, gagged, and blinded, sat Hero.

“Now, I don’t want a ransom. No, no. I only want to see a dear friend of mine. And it has been oh, so hard to track them down.

So, Villain, dear?”

They shivered at the sound of their name. Their name.

“How about you come to my base, and pick up your little friend, here. Or else, I might just have to do something drastic.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

For six hours, Villain did not move.

As soon as the broadcast had left the billboard, it had repeated itself upon every news channel that gave half a crap about the metropolis. National news, even international, with subtitles in two dozen languages telling of Supervillain’s threat.

They’d found out. Of course they’d found out.

Villain knew they  should have been furious. They should have strangled Supervillain, strangled Hero, strangled themself! After all, this was all their fault. Falling for a hero, how could they have possibly been so stupid?

Now, they stared. Hands balled to fists in their lap as yet another newscaster explained the same events, over and over again.

“Boss?” Sidekick’s voice was soft, nothing like their usual, nosy self. They sat in a chair behind their mentor, who was seated criss-cross on the floor.

There was no answer.

“Boss... What are you going to do?”

“I can’t leave them.”

“Leave who?”

“Leave Hero. You know what Supervillain is like! They’ll destroy them. Destroy the last good hero in the city.”

“You didn’t want to hurt them.”

“And I don’t want to see them hurt, either.”

“I know you don’t. But it’s all Supervillain has over you. You can just... Leave them, right? It’s not like Hero has any real power over you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I have to.”

“You don’t!”

Villain stood.

“Yes, I do.” They spun around, stalking towards the room that held their costume. “And I need to wipe that damn smile off Supervillain’s face.”

#villain whumpee #hero whumpee #supervillain whumper #whump #whumper #whumpee #whumpblr #hero x villain #hero villain whump #hero villain prompt #whump prompt #whump writing #whump scenario

[yandere-sins]

Charred

Horrortober Day 7: Shock “You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

Ah yes. Angels. Complicated beings, I love them. Randomizer sure gave me an interesting combination for this day, but I am not complaining :D Also, if you are one of the people leaving a comment on my posts, please just know you are everything. I love you ♥ Even if they are in the tags, I am so happy to read your thoughts and feelings, it really helps so much to stay positive and motivated! ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Corrupted Angel, Mild violent outburst Characters: Simeon x Reader

Angels aren't human.

How could you have forgotten?

Running through this godforsaken hallway, you were constantly blinded by lights. Little remnants of Simeon's power, one you didn't know he had. "I should have known better," you thought as you shielded your eyes from another flash caused by an orb to your left. If only the holy magic Simeon was able to use wasn't that harmful to your vision. If only he wouldn't use it on you. If only you never let it come this far.

But how could you have known? You thought you two were friends and like-minded people when you got closer to Simeon as you two attended RAD as exchange students. You weren't that kind of sinner; you never gave yourself hope there could be anything beyond friendship. And you weren't looking for it either. But to dismiss his exalted status as well, that one was on you. Of course he could use magic that was dangerous to you, especially with how little Simeon could understand human emotions.

Sure, he could crack a smile at a joke, show sadness, and give comfort, but he only did what he learned to do, feigning his sympathy. He didn't mean to hurt anyone with it, but it just wasn't in him to feel as humans do, or else it was threatening to defile them. Angels aren't human, they couldn't feel emotions like you did, and when they did, well, this is what happened.

Simeon was a mess. He was beside himself, trying to figure out what was wrenching his body. Ironically, it had been Lucifer who warned you about this. He kept himself brief when talking about angels and corruption, not wanting to open his own wounds. But he still made a point to tell you that it was overwhelming and maddening to have lived for centuries and only then regaining an emotional conscience. It war pain. Suffering. A change that would take months and years to overcome.

And it was all the scarier how quiet it made Simeon.

He didn't tell you what was happening, and you didn't notice it, busy with your duties and the brothers. You should have seen it! You blamed yourself for not being more careful as his friend, but it was already too late. When he started to demand more of your time and attention, glaring at the others for taking up his space by your side, it should have rung some alarm bells. It was almost painfully obvious that him getting more touchy when you were together and antsy when you pulled away was a warning of what was to come. Maybe you chose to ignore it. Perhaps you thought your friendship could survive him being irrational and angry, snapping at you and others at times.

But by the time Simeon became what he wasn't supposed to be, he had already kidnapped you somewhere strange and magical, just as twisted and scary as he was now. It was like an endless dark, ancient castle. Rooms with high ceilings and tall windows looking into the nothingness around the building. The insides were decorated, but the colors everywhere were constantly shifting, nauseatingly so. Sometimes white, sometimes grey. Gold accents, then copper. The temperature was hot when you were awake and cold when you slept. You knew it was magical and tied to Simeon, but that made it all the more uncomfortable and scary. You didn't want to experience this. You never asked for it! Part of you knew what was going on, and it made the realization worse.

There had been moments of clarity in his eyes when you pleaded with him to get a grip, but they fogged over with emotions an angel shouldn't have. When you tried to reason with him, he got jealous over the argument that others would come looking at you. "You're mine!" he screamed, and then his eyes cleared as he regretted his words, leaving you alone abruptly before you could say another word. He was ashamed and scared, you had seen it in his expression, but he still came back as if nothing happened.

On the surface, he was still the Simeon you knew. The one you loved. But he was so quickly offended and angered by now that you only grew more worried every day. Suddenly he started locking your room or would sit and watch you sleep, and you were scared of this angel that wasn't an angel anymore.

So… you ran.

At the first opportunity, you ran. The hallway seemed endless, and you didn't know where you were going. Flashes went off every few steps, and you ran into a few amenities blindly. Even if it was pure madness and wouldn't help either of you, you couldn't do this. The longer you stayed, the worse Simeon got. You needed to find help for him—and for you. That was the only way. The others would know what to do! They could do something for Simeon that you weren't able to, give him stability and support him in these hard times. You were just a human and didn't know if Simeon could remain an angel after all that happened, but if he could, that's what you wished for him from the bottom of your heart. You never intended any of this to happen, and secretly, you didn't want to be the reason for it.

"AH!" with a loud shriek, you were caught by a slice of light right in front of you. It was like a slit opening up, but even brighter than the orbs that had exploded before that. You could recognize magic when you saw it by now. Simeon's magic. Flashy, dazzling, unbefitting of the tumult he was going through. Simeon was far stronger than you expected him to be, but you realized now that you took his calm and sweet demeanor for weakness, when really, it was mercy.

Tumbling backwards, you landed on your side, your arm throbbing as you slowly tried to get up again. It should have shocked you more to see the person slowly stepping out of the light, but you could barely see anyway, only recognizing the voice as he spoke up. "My, you look like a deer caught in the headlights."

Finally, the light shining at you terrifyingly bright vanished, leaving only you two behind in the warped hallway. It took you a few blinks to recover from it, tiny sparks flying through your vision when you looked up at Simeon. Other than the dark corridor, Simeon was wearing his pristine, white clothes. Pure and amiable. Nothing like the inner tumult he was battling, and still, he looked nothing like the Simeon you knew. The kind Simeon. The one you loved.

You feared he was already gone.

Around you, the colors of the castle shifted to nightmarish black while accents turned into a deep red, all while you and Simeon never broke eye contact. He was walking towards you, hand on his chest and smiling in greeting. You once loved his reassuring smiles, the encouraging message they delivered. But this one was menacing and cold, as was his voice when he spoke up again.

"Where are you going?" he asked curtly, right to the point. Biting your lip, you only looked away. You wanted to argue, but good could come out of that? When you cracked your room's lock, you thought it would take him longer to find out. Long enough for you to form a plan, but it only now crossed your minds that the lights you encountered could have been like security cameras for Simeon to check in the case you ever did break out.

"There is no leaving this place, my dove. You know this. Why are you testing me."

"Why are you keeping me here?" you asked the same question he ignored so many times. Though this time, he indeed had something to say to it.

"It's dangerous out there. Demons will get to you, blemish your skin with their marks and rob you of your life. Aren't you worried at all?"

"I'd like to see for myself what I can do out there," you retorted firmly. "I think you're losing it, Simeon. You are nothing like you were when we were students."

Confronting him may not have been the best idea as his once so kind eyes turned moody, smile turning into a frown as you mentioned the past. "No, I am better. I can protect you now. I take care of you. You owe me more respect if you think I've gone mad. The only thing making me mad is you!"

Gulping, you looked at him. He was prideful now too. It was painful for you.

Simeon was slipping further and further. Every passing second was destroying him.

"Simeon, please," you whispered, pleading with him from the bottom of your heart. "I want to help you! B-But I don't know how! I need help to help you, I need to get out!"

"You're not going anywhere," he decided, cutting his hand through the air in a gesture signaling finality to his word. Kneeling down before you, he pulled you roughly into his chest, pressing your head against him. If there was any good that came out of the change, perhaps it was how open he was now to touches. You longed for this, for something longer than just a hug when you two met. But your heart was throbbing out of devastation now, rather than jumping from joy.

"Please get help," you pleaded, gripping his clothes. "I won't leave you, but please ask the brothers or Lord Diavolo for help, Simeon!"

"Never say their names again," he hissed at you, an unfamiliar hostility in his voice that brought you to tears. But Simeon held you as you cried into his chest. His comfort wasn't helpful, but what else did you have to cling to? If not for him, you would be alone and abandoned in this realm, and you had to painfully admit that he was indeed taking care of you. Good care. In his own, twisted way.

While you were still crying, Simeon carried you back to your room, laid you in your bed, and tugged you in. He did so with a frown deeply lodged on his beautiful face, the wrinkles so unfitting for an angel. But a small hope remained inside of you that you crying would make him see reason. Instead, he sat by your bedside as you two stared at each other, eventually muttering that he was going to get you some food before leaning down and kissing your forehead. You hated this affection. Actually, you hated that it was under these circumstances.

When Simeon got up, he left you without another look back over his shoulders, and you sniffled, the tears never drying out as you looked after him. So cold, so… lonely. He was in pain too, he must have been. If only there was a way to reverse it. To make him see reason and to calm his aching. You wished you could have helped him, at least a little bit. As a human, was there nothing you could do? Maybe just take some of the sins he was living through! As normal as they were for you, they were killing him from the inside.

The intense light from before flashed up as he opened the door to your room, blinding and stinging in your eyes. Still, you were already crying, and it was hard to avoid your gaze from Simeon even now. It was the first time you noticed his wings, usually concealed by magic, but as he used them, they came into plain view. You had believed until the last second that maybe there was a way to help him. To save him from this. But you were a little wiser as you looked at the feathers sprouting from his back. His beautiful, large wings. 

Charred-black.

#Simeon #simeon obey me #yandere simeon #yandere!simeon #obey me! #obey me #obey me! shall we date #yandere obey me #yandere!obey me #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #horrortoberchallenge2021

[doctorofmagic]

My thoughts on What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The very title of the episode sends a shiver down my spine. And this is where we’re going to start.

~ long post under the cut ~

A year ago, I wrote this post as an attemp to dive into one of the most important traits in Doctor Strange’s personality: love. Stephen is a being made of love, made to love, no matter which interpretation you have when you watch Infinity War. If you don’t read comic books, you’ll understand the moment you meet Donna. You’ll begin to understand how her death reshaped his entire subjectivity out of fear of failing, being powerless and unable to control everything around him (especially death), thus the arrogant and yet a disaster of a man we all know.

Where do I even start? Stephen loved her sister deeply and felt responsible for her death. And then, slowly, he also lost his parents and his brother. He fell in love with Clea but he also pushed her away. He loved Zelma platonically and lied to her, which was enough for them to break their bond. He felt attracted to Kanna but screwed things up, even though they remain friends. He was forced to kill the Ancient One, the only father figure he had ever since his father died. And lastly, the only person who would never leave his side... also left. Yes, even Wong. Stephen has SO much love to give but he’s also afraid because he’s cursed. He truly believes his love in poison. And would you look at that? What If really delivered a story where this is actually true.

What If Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The level of understanding when it comes to the character is... inconceivable. What could possibly reshape Stephen into following a dark path but love? The very premise of the whole episode. This is so much more than a love letter. This is literally too much, in all senses.

Fine, let’s begin.

What if the best of intentions has very strange consequences?

No. You used the word “strange” for the pun but this is not the word. Nah-ah. I’d go with ATROCIOUS, for starters. Things are gonna escalate so quickly, my friends.

Seriously, tho? Christine is SO SO SO SO beautiful, they’re so cute together. I have this feeling that MCU!Stephen was quite toxic because of his arrogance and this is why they didn’t work out. But WhatIf!Stephen???????? He’s always praising her, teasing her in a healthy way, respecting her and listening to her. HE TRULY LOVES HER, I’M GONNA CRY ALL OVER AGAIN, PLEASE, NOT THE CRÈME BRÛLÉE, PLEASE

I’m going to leave this shot here because we need to go back to it later. Hold that thought.

And bonus points to “Yeah, well, I would call that quite remarkable.” / “Well, I would say the same about you.”

GODS. THE PAIN. STOP THE PAIN.

So in this reality, Stephen didn’t caused the car accident because he was checking his phone while driving. Also it was not the reckless attempt to pass the truck. Well, maybe it was the consequence of this act? The fact is, the car behind them loses control, which makes them crash. Does it matter? We’ll learn later that no, it doesn’t.

And yep... Christine dies. Have you noticed the shattered heart? Ah, the pain only gets better and better.

Again, Stephen blames himself. More than anything, this is so important because Stephen is all about guilt. We still need to meet Donna so we can add yet another layer of guilt. But the feeling exists. This is what corrupts Stephen’s heart and soul in all his iterations. This is what makes him the character I love so much. I love this SO. MUCH. In addition, his stubbornness to accept his condition. Man won’t take a no. This, this is Doctor Strange in character. Stop complaining about NWH Stephen, it’s pathetic.

Okay, “grief-stricken”, Stephen found the Mystic Arts and became a sorcerer. That’s when he learned about the Time Stone, the Eye of Agamotto and Dormammu. Nothing changes, he saves the universe. But time does not heal his deepest wound.

I love Wong so much. Every time Wong does something, the world is healed. Really. We’re going back to him as well but for now I’ll just leave this shot.

BUT STEPHEN, DOING SOMETHING RECKLESS? HE’D NEVAH

Aaaaaaaannnnnnd then he did.

He goes back in time. It’s been two years since he lost Christine. I think he reacted pretty nicely, despite the circumstances. Now let’s go back to that shot I said I was saving for later.

Stephen is so light-hearted here. Also, during the first time he lost Christine, he had no idea what “The Price is Right” was. He knows now, which means he probably tried to learn more about the show because of her, because of grief. HAHAHA MORE PAIN

AND THEN HE

AND THEN SHE DIES AGAIN

AND THEN HE KEEPS GOING BACK IN TIME

AND SHE KEEPS DYING

AND THE MUSIC

AND HIS VOICE

AND HE TRIES TO CHANGE FATE BUT IT CAN’T BE AVERTED

HE EVEN TRIES TO STAY AWAY FROM HER LIFE BUT SHE DIES ALL THE SAME, WHY

AND EVERY TIME THEY CRASH, HE FEELS THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL PAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, WHY

I’M-- *ugly sobbing noises*

Apparently, not.

And this scene when he simply... closes his eyes before she dies again...?

This is where this episode had me in endless tears. It got me the four times I watched it. I’m dead serious.

Okay, so, next the Ancient One appears to Stephen, explaining that Christine’s death is an Absolute Point in time. It cannot be changed. Stephen needs the accident to become the Sorcerer Supreme and defeat Dormammu.

And this is where Stephen starts his journey into darkness. “Nothing is impossible, you taught me that. I only require more power.” Disobeying the Ancient One, Stephen then travels in time, seeking the Library of Cagliostro. Now, if you’re not aware of that, Cagliostro was a sorcerer who studied time in comics, and later became Sise-Neg (there’s a recent post on this because of the new Defenders run). It’s funny to think that Sise-Neg also destroyed the world when he became a god, however he grew past his pettiness and remade reality. Stephen did not possess such power, as we’re about to see.

PS: “Stop torturing yourself, Stephen.” Naur but he should use this line like a mantra. Especially comics!Stephen.

Not gonna lie, tho. This place reminds me of the Temple of the Vishanti from T&T (of course I was going to insert T&T somewhere, it’s me).

And of course they’d go for a pun with his name haha. I don’t know how to feel about this, tho. I feel like the episode is too heavy and dark for comedy. But it is what it is.

Okay but why some books are in cages??????????? And wow, it seems Cagliostro also gathered knowledge about several fields of magic.

And then Stephen learns that, in order to break an Absolute Point, he needs to absorb more power. This is when I went “oh-oh, here we go”.

And for real, is this Shuma-Gorath? Why are they keeping his name a secret? Is this the same creature from the first episode with Captain Carter, right? RIGHT? It has to be Shuma-Gorath.

Of course he tries to be polite and ends up all hurt haha. O’Bengh warns him about love but he will not listen. “Love can break more than your heart. It can shatter your mind.”/ “Is she worth the pain?”. Please, this is Stephen. He eats pain for breakfast.

Also, also, let’s take a break. We’re finally going to get monsterf0cker tentacle-lover Stephen Strange. It will cost us everything but here we goooooooooooo (yes, I went frame by frame for your more obscure fanservice needs)

Gods, I love this sequence so much it hurts. Okay, here we go.

Shmebulock???????????

AND HE STOLE THE CAPE??????????? AND DREW THE LINE ON BUGS??????

The grasp this man is holding on me right now...

Some of you will understand. I’m with you.

And here are the grostesque ones. These are hard to take SS but I had to.

Animation, sound effects, OST? CHEF’S KISS TO ALL

And lastly... the tentacles. Yeah, if you’re new... this is a thing.

Fanservice. Fanservice everywhere. (low-key the reason I also waited to write this review, I wanted to enjoy this part so badly but I was too sad for that lmao)

Okay so. O’Bengh is suddenly OLD and DYING, until we realize that Stephen spent CENTURIES absorbing mystic beings. CENTURIES. WTF STEPHEN. He had nothing in mind but the goal to save Christine. And people wonder why he went insane???? I’m sorry, O’Bengh, but I can’t take you serious when you still call Stephen Sorcerer Armani. Oh, and also because you watched him absorb beings for centuries in silence lmao. But I guess I have to because you said that Stephen is split in two since the Ancient One cast a spell on him, splitting the timelines and making them exist in the same reality before he could travel back in time. I know, it’s complex. Anything for the plot.

And now good!Stephen has an evil!twin who wants to absorb him back in order to become whole and break the Absolute Point. Cool.

I said I wanted to talk more about Wong because I think people are not talking about him enough. Wong is so important in this episode. He’s the one who’s trying to heal Stephen after Christine. He’s Stephen’s anchor.

Also, THEY FINALLY USED A SPELL WITH THE NAME OF THE VISHANTI. HOORAAAAY

So, for the sake of our understanding, I’m addressing the characters as evil and good!Stephen. Let’s go. Evil!Stephen summons good!Stephen and gods, he still holds such a strong grasp on me... unbelievable. THE DEEPER VOICE BENEDICT USES???? PLEASE, DIDN’T WE HAVE ENOUGH?

Imagine his strength to hold so many beings inside him, fighting to control him. BRO, THIS IS TOO TOO MUCH

Fine, I’ll not post SS about the fight because I’d be here all night long but I WILL say this: NOT CLOAKIE!!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAUR

Also if you ask me if I recognize any of the spells? Maaaaybe the Flames of Faltine, the not-so-crimson Bands of Cyttorak and a little trick Magik does with her portals. That’s how far I go.

I’ll not comment on the “seducing yourself to stay in the trap”. I will not. I’ll just say that the first person Stephen thought of when “Christine” was talking about the crème brûlée was Wong. That’s it.

And finally evil!Stephen absorbs good!Stephen and releases... UNLIMITED POWER (I love when the stone goes red as if it was bleeding aaaaaaa)

I can fix him...

This scene here? Poetic cinema. (I love his wings so much)

And when Stephen says her name and the other monsters’ voices echo “Christine”, AAAAAACKKKK

AND OF COURSE CHRISTINE WOULD FREAK OUT, BRO. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOUR TWISTED LOVE. I’M NOT DOING FINE.

Oh, but it’s too late anyways because Stephen broke reality haha. This scene is interesting because Stephen is the only one who sensed and/or talked to the Watcher until now. I read an interview that the Watcher kinda showed up but it’s also about Stephen’s keen senses. Bit of both, let’s say. Still, man, 616-Watcher is not that cold. 616-Watcher would watch this and say “how about I intervene anyway?”. WhatIf!Watcher is brutal.

The way Christine looks at Stephen one last time also KILLS ME, DESTROYS ME, BREAK ME INTO A MILLION PIECES.

And this is where my soul left my body.

This is how they end the episode. This is how you leave me speechless and with teary eyes. This is how you give me a whole existential crisis.

This... this was brutal to watch. Really.

What can I say after this? I’m used to reading painful things when it comes to Stephen. Aaron’s and Cates’ runs are heartbreaking on so many levels. Hickman’s New Avengers is not easier. Coincidentally, What If? Magik Became Sorcerer Supreme and The End. And now Death of Doctor Strange. And yet, after everything I’ve been through, I’d never expect to watch something so brilliant, so tragic, so heartbreaking and unexpected in the MCU. Never. This is top tier content and this is my favorite character with SO MANY LAYERS and SO MUCH UNDERSTANDING. I can’t put into words how meaningful this whole episode is to me, or how deep it touched my heart and soul.

I’ve been struggling to find the proper words since then, I still can’t. All I can add is, I cried for the 4th time now. This is too, too much, even for Stephen stans. Even for the ones who are used to pain, regardless of which media you’re into: comic books, live actions or animated movies. This is literally more than I can take and yet I’m so, so grateful. The voice acting, gods, how did Benedict manage to create a better Stephen than the one he’s literally playing in real life???????????? HOW

This episode really took the max potential Stephen had to offer as a character, added tons and tons of layers based on his grief, depression, arrogance and need to control everything and created a tragic masterpiece. In 7 years of being a Doctor Strange fan, I've never read or watch something that could go this deep into the character. The closest I can think of is Mr. Misery and the metaphor of Stephen's depression. This is a whole new level of respect and understanding. This is more than a love letter. This is peak maestry. It’s perfect, it’s heartbreaking, it’s... gods, I can’t.

Sorry for dragging you until this far. Before I wrap up this review, I just wanted to remind you all that Stephen will appear again, he will smile again, he will be surrounded by people again. So this is not the end. It was painful but be brave. We still have a few more steps to take.

#what if...? #doctor strange #stephen strange #what if doctor strange lost his heart instead of his hands? #wong #christine palmer #the ancient one #long post #review #he did nothing wrong #so what? he destroyed a whole universe #/j #benedict cumberbatch

[thefanficmonster]

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing. 

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him.  One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

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[mingiswow]

SKZ | They comfort you after a nightmare

Genre: Angst, fluff, slice of life

Warnings: mentions of cheating, death, and kidnapping, some curse words probably, some of the boys are older in their reactions. If I forgot anything let me know

⚠ English is not my first language, so sorry if there's any mistake, corrections are always welcomed.

➥ chan

It was rare the occasions where you went to the dorm, it was usually Chan who went to your house. Right then you were currently laid on the sofa of his studio, sleeping while he finished some songs. You started sweating, your body moving around uncomfortably, your breathing becoming erratic. “Y/N? Y/N! Babe… wake up. Babe, wake up!” your boyfriend started to shake you lightly, waking you up from the nightmare.

You looked around, grounding yourself and realizing where you were. Immediately you hugged the man in front of you. “Had a nightmare?”.

“You had left me because I was a waste of your time and you told me I was not good enough for you” you answered, not taking your head from his neck, a few tears leaving your eyes. “Hey! Don’t you dare think I’ll ever say those things to you! To think I’d think like that, okay? You are the most precious person in my life. Hell! I’d die to ever think about hurting you” his calloused thumb ever so gently caressing your cheek, wiping your tears.

You nodded. Kissing his lips. “C’mon. Let’s go home, aight? I’ll tuck us like a burrito and cuddle you all night and tell you how much I love you”.

“You’re cringe, Bang Chan”

“But you love me like that”.

➥ lee know

You couldn’t believe your eyes. It was him. It was your boyfriend kissing another girl right in front of you. You didn’t have a reaction, all you could do was cry. You fell to your knees, tears falling heavily from your eyes. Suddenly a hole opened on your feet and you fell into it like Alice fell into the rabbit hole.

Your body jolted from the bed, a silent scream leaving your mouth. “Y/N? Are you okay?” the raspy morning voice from your boyfriend sounded beside you, his hand caressing your back. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“You were cheating on me” you turned to look at him, his shirtless frame still lazily laid on the bed, a lazy smile on his lips. “You’re so cute when you’re pouty, you know?” he pulled you back on the bed, caging you on his arms, the warmth of his body soothing your own. “I love you, Y/N. Cheating you is the last thing I'd do to you. Now go back to sleep, and have wet dreams with me”.

“Lino-yah!” he giggled at your blushed form, kissing your lips before, bringing you back to his chest, and playing with your hair until you fell asleep.

➥ changbin

The warmth of his hand felt so comfortable against your cold ones. The snow was falling from the sky while you and your boyfriend decided to take a walk since everyone was in the comfort of their home, no one would see you.

But just as you turned a corner there they were, the paparazzi, the fansites, seasangs. Everyone was taking pictures of you two. Flashes got mixed with screams and you could barely see anything in front of you. You started calling your boyfriend’s name but with no answer.

And then you were naked. Naked in the cold winter air while everyone took pictures and laughed at you. “Changbin! Changbin! Changbin! CHANGBIN!”

“Babe… wake up. Y/N, love. I’m here. I’m here” the scene suddenly started to fade in your mind and you got back to your bedroom. The dim light coming from the bedside lamp barely illuminating your boyfriend, his broad silhouette being distinguished before he engulfed you in a hug. "’s okay. I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere”.

“They caught us, they were taking pictures” you whispered on his chest, feeling the way his body hugged you. “I don’t want to lose you” you felt his fingers start to caress your hair, giving you warmth and reassurance.

“Sh… You won’t lose me, okay? I’m here with you, no one will get us. And if they get I don’t fucking care. You’re my girlfriend and I love you. ‘Kay?” you nodded, laying your head on the pillow again, Changbin spooning you. “I love you too, Bin”

➥ Hyunjin

You fell asleep while watching your boyfriend practice the dance routine over and over again, the sound of his shoes rubbing and stepping on the floor flooding your ears and intoxicating your brains. The sound kept getting louder and louder as you opened your eyes and a giant version of your boyfriend was destroying the town with his dance moves.

You started to scream his name, trying to get his attention with no success. You decided the best way was to approach him like Ann Darrow did with King Kong. But when you tried to get to him, his left foot raised in the air and stepped on you, squashing you like in the cartoons.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH” you lifted your head fast from the ground, hitting Hyunjin’s head.

“Ouch!” he rubbed his head laughing a little bit. “Please don’t try to kill me, I’m just trying to help you here” he looked at you, a playful smile on his lips. “You just took a nap and had a nightmare?” you nodded.

“You had transformed into this giant dancer that was destroying the town and squished me dead” he laughed at your pout. “Ok, Let’s go home miss damsel in distress. It’s getting late anyway” he helped you to get up from the floor, giving him a hug and a peck on his nose.

“For a giant, you are pretty cute and soft” he laughed at your comment, shaking his head and grabbing his stuff.

➥ Jisung

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DID THAT! YOU ARE SO STUPID, Y/N!”

“I didn't do anything” you started crying, still not knowing why he was screaming at you. “Please tell me what I did. I…”

“Stop playing dumb! You know what you did!” Jisung kept screaming at you while your tears kept falling from your eyes, a pool starting to form on your feet. In mere seconds you were drowning in your own tears, the air becoming scarce as you forgot how to breathe.

You woke up scared, shaking, crying, barely breathing. You looked at the empty spot in your shared bed, the fear starting to build in your chest again. Slowly you got out of bed, searching for your boyfriend and finding him in the kitchen, sneakily eating ice cream. “Oh… Hi babes” the guilty smile on his lips made you breathe more normally, you weren’t stuck in your nightmare anymore. “You okay?” he asked, handing you another spoon so you could join him.

“Had a nightmare. You were screaming with me and calling me names” you put the spoon in your mouth, pouting as you spoke and ate. “When I woke up you weren’t there. Got scared” he grabbed your cheeks and kissed your lips and forehead, wrapping you in a hug after.

“Sorry I wasn’t there, I woke up craving some ice cream” he laughed at himself. “But I’m here now, and I’ll never call you anything but sweet and cheesy words of love, ok?” you nodded, scenting his cologne on his neck. “Want more ice cream or cuddles to sleep?”

“Cuddles” you answered, smiling at him once you left his neck. “Your wish is my command ma’am” he hugged you from behind, guiding you two back to the bedroom between giggles and laughs.

➥ felix

“Y/N! Wake up. Are you listening?” your eyes widened open when you heard your husband’s voice. “It’s okay. I got you” he hugged you tight, caressing your back. “It’s just a nightmare, it’s normal”

“I was so scared it was real” you cried on his chest. The pregnancy screwing with your hormones. “They had taken the baby from us. They had stolen from us” the tears kept staining his pajama shirt. “Sh… Y/N, the baby is here, no one will take them from us” he left your embrace and held your face.

Wiping away your tears, he kissed you gently, his hands caressing the little bump starting to grow in your belly. “It was just a nightmare. They are right here, inside your beautiful body, full of love from their mommy and daddy, ok?” you nodded, looking at his hand. “I love you” he kissed your lips “this is our little family”.

You nodded, the sad tears turning into happy ones with the amount of love and joy your husband gave to you. “I love you too, Lixie”.

➥ seungmin

You ran like your life depended on it. Because it did. You screamed for Seungmin as you tried to run away from your evil clone, the wicked face looked so much like you but at the same time so different. You stopped suddenly when you hit on something.

“Oh thank God it’s you Seugmin! Please tak- AHHHHHHHHHHHHH” you screamed at the top of your lungs when you felt him hit your chest with a knife.

“Y/N! What happened?” the boy by your side woke up with your scream, scared something bad might have happened to you.

“We shouldn’t have watched that movie” you hid your face in his neck, hugging his body and crying a little while he giggled at you. “Stop! It was scary! I was trying to get me and you were the one who hurt me” you pouted looking at the man, trying to do a puppy face.

“I told you we should not watch horror movies, you always get scared” he patted your head, kissing the top of it before bringing you both back to your lying position, hugging you tight to his chest. “And if I dare to hurt you one day, I will let you take revenge”.

➥ jeongin

You looked over at the people at your wedding reception, everyone having fun on the dance floor, your feet too hurt to actually move any longer. You watched as yours and Jeongin’s family got along, smiling at yourself for being so lucky.

Then your eyes landed on your now-husband and how he happily spoke to one of your cousins when he whispered in her ear, the woman giggling and nodding, her hands lingering a little too long on his arms, her long nails almost entering the fabric as she squeezed the place.

Tears started to fall from your eyes as you watched the scene unfold in front of your eyes and then you started running away from the place, from everyone. You could only hear the faint screams of your name by your husband. “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N! WAKE UP!”

Your eyes finally shot open, the place slowly starting to be visible in silhouettes by your eyes, the darkness of your bedroom embracing you. “Are you okay, sweetie?” the voice of your fiance sounding worried by your side. “Did you have a nightmare?” you nodded and hugged him.

“You and my cousin were flirting at our wedding and… and” you hiccuped the words as he soothed you.

“Y/N, I’d never do that. Do you hear me? You are my best friend, my lover, my partner,ever and the love of my life. I would never even do anything like that to hurt you”

“Promise?” you looked at him, not much being visible in the darkness. He nodded, whispering a soft promise against your lips, making your worries go away.

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