#i think she deserves a moment to breakdown about everything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lvlyghost · 8 months

Note

I love your stories so much I can't 😫😍😍❤️

Could you maybe write a angst to fluff ghost x reader story where the reader gets injured badly while ghost is on her side the whole time in the hospital while she is unconscious and he's having breakdowns and anxiety and all really angsty stuff and when she wakes up she comforts him and all is fluffy and maybe a bit smutty 🤭

No More Stars Left to Count

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: Few things made Simon break down. Almost losing his girl takes a toll on him.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

TW: Smut! MDNI! Angst, hurt, comfort. Injuries. Panic attacks. Grammar mistakes just the usual... Do not read if you're under 18.

A/N: I'm actually quite happy with this one🥹🩷 Enjoy Anon! This is my first time posting smut and in another language so sorry in advance if there are mistakes! Corrections are appreciated ✨🐝

Masterlist✨

Simon's head rests on his left hand, his eyes bore into your fragile body. Several machines are attached to you, helping you breathe, pumping meds into your system. He doesn't deserve you by any means. He doesn't deserve your trust, your laughter, your body.

All he can think about— as his brown orbs can't find the strength to look away— is how miserably he had failed to protect his team. To protect you. It's been twelve days and you still don't show any signs of waking up; it wasn't abnormal for you to not wake up. The damage inflicted to your body had been great. Simon thought for a painful moment he had lost you for good. The woman he cared for. The woman he utterly loved.

He swallows hard.

There aren't many things that'd scare him. He's simply seen too much. But this? Was this truly his destiny? To lose everyone he loved? His family and now you?

He inhales sharply, his free hands traces your inert hand, tracing soft patterns on your pale skin littered with cuts and bruises. That very hand he adores to hold when you were together. He blinks, memories from your last night together flooding his brain as he sinks further down the chair, adjusting the hoodie over his head.

The night before leaving for the mission in Romania.

"No, wait look Simon! Give it to me!" You chuckle, under the covers, both of your bodies remain warm. It wasn't unusual that Simon couldn't sleep so he'd often come into your room and spend the night with you. "There." You pointed out. Your hand and his hand stretched out in front of you, slowly you touch his, spreading out your palms comparing hands. Your eyelashes flutter at the mere sight of his big calloused hand outsize yours, completely engulfing it. You splay out your fingers until they're intertwined.

His breath catches in his throat. He loved how small you were compared to him. He wanted to protect you from everything even from himself, but you had refused to leave him when he tried to push you away.

"Come here." He grabs your arm pining you down and under his gargantuan body. You squeal, laughing at the sudden change of position; Simon sets his body between your legs. Your arms rest on his sides, layers of muscle tensing under your touch. Tilting your head back, eyes meet the dark sky outside the window.

"Look at them." You mumble, Simon lays a kiss on your neck taking advantage. He loves the feeling of your steady pulse on his lips. "The stars are so bright tonight." He hums absentmindedly, hands coming to grip his blond locks.

There's a fire burning in your belly and the ache between your thighs when you feel the tent forming through his grey sweatpants.

"Need you, love." He grumbles. His hands undress your bottom half making you gasp.

"Simon..." soft pink lips kiss your body. Your chest, your stomach... until he's lost between your legs. Mouth lapping at your wetness. You squirm under his touch, it's intoxicating. It feels like you might combust. The fire running through your veins, the goosebumps on your sensitive flesh as you clench around nothing. Unable to resist it you grab him by the arms. "You know what I need." In the blink of an eye two bodies intertwined moving desperately chasing the sweetest end together. He murmurs soft encouraging words in your ear that sent shockwaves through your veins, Simon couldn't possibly be more deep inside you, hitting that sensitive spot that made you want to scream, nails digging on his back, surely leaving red marks that he would proudly show tomorrow.

The purple and orange that tinges the sky outside filters through the window, casting an ethereal display of colors around this room that hides away the few moments you get to spend with him as you finish together; feeling impossibly more in love with him.

"It's clearing already." You point out. Simon looks up from your eyes, albeit reluctant to miss the beautiful shade of your orbs. "No more stars left..."

He kisses your forehead, then bumps his nose against you before he finds your mouth.

"There'll be plenty more to count tomorrow, sweetheart. I promise."

But you're not counting them as he promised the night before. Instead he's shouting orders like an enraged man. Heart beating out of his chest, you were so close to the evac point with your squad. Five minutes ago he had squeezed your arm and kissed your temple before urging you to get in the land rover from the SAS. Only to watch it blow seconds later. His heart stopped and then the ringing in his eardrums.

It was an ambush.

And as the rest covered him he rushed to you.

The blood. Crimson blood all over the bodies. He knew what this meant.

"Sergeant!" He forces his body to move, dragging you by the straps of your combat vest to take cover behind one of the vehicles. He knows he shouldn't be moving you like that, but right now he can't think of anything else than getting you out of there... "Bloody fucking hell!" He roars.

What was that feeling, like his soul was being ripped apart...?

Releasing a shaky breath, Simon squeezes your hand once again careful not to hurt you. The IV in your hand too foreign. It's too much. The sight, the memories of the vehicle flying through the sky...

The pit in his stomach grows, a wave of nausea and uneasiness hitting him all of the sudden. Simon stands on wobbly legs, taking one last glance at you he steps out the ICU. Crouching down he yanks the balaclava from his face. Why was his chest so tight, and his vision filled with blackness? The incessant ring on his ears is real. Fucking real. It was supposed to be a nightmare... this thing pulling him down.

"Come back to me baby." He pleads in a hushed tone although he knows you can't hear him. Simon lifts his hands to find support on the wall in front of him. He breathes as much air as he can through his nose, tries to blink away the black dots.

"Lieutenant Riley?" A feminine voice wafts through the empty hallway reaching him. He holds out a shaky finger without even looking at her.

"Leave..." he warns.

"Sir? I...-" the nurse hesitates.

"Now!" He barks.

She scurries away but not before calling the doctors and the Captain to the med wing.

Simon stays there until his ragged breathing evens, he then goes back to your room, deep down he hopes—prays— that your eyes will open when you hear him. But you don't. He sits again on the couch where he's tried to sleep, tossing the mask away from him. His throat bobs, what's happening to him? It burns. The door creaks open revealing a concerned John who looks at him in disapproval.

"This isn't going to help anyone Simon." He scolds him.

"What do you want Price?"

"You need to sleep. And for... just for the love of God eat something son."

"Not until I know she'll be fine."

Price sighs closing the door behind him.

"She wouldn't want this." Even then, Price doesn't want to look at you. This had taken a toll on everyone. But Simon wasn't handling it well. Rubbing his eyes he scoffs. "Come on go get some rest I can stay."

"No." Both men stare at each other not wanting to back down. "I'm on leave you don't get to tell me what to do Price."

John crosses his arm.

"I'm worried Simon. I want her to be okay too. We all do."

Simon's jaw clenched, hands balling into fists. They don't really know. They don't know, can't comprehend the extent of his love for you.

"What if this was your girl? Would you leave her fucking side hm?"

A tense pause electrifies the air as the two glare at each other, oblivious to the other person whose eyes are tearing.

The beeping sound increases as your heart rate goes up. Two pair of eyes snap to the sound. Your hand tries to snatch the oxygen from your face, but Simon darts out with dread plastered all over his features. You faintly hear John calling the doctors.

"Easy, love. Easy..." he soothes you. Stopping your hands from moving. Your body is in too much pain, tears slip down your cheeks, once again Simon grits his teeth. If he could he'd take it all away. "Don't force yourself you're..." he trails off. "You're hurt."

It feels like you're body is being torn apart. The drugs are slowly leaving your system.

"What happened?" your croak out, throat dry and inflamed. He sits bringing the glass of water to your lips not before removing for a brief moment the oxygen mask. You take a small sip and thank him with a weak smile.

"Ambush." He explains. Hating that he can see the images all over again in the back of his mind. "Thought I lost you."

More tears well in your eyes, as weak as you feel you reach out your hands tracing his jawline and cheekbone. He closes his eyes, and finally breathes again, with you touching him he feels alive again. He wants nothing more than to go home with you.

"How many nights..."

"Twelve..."

The doctors rush in but before they drag him away you say:

"That's a lot of counting we've missed."

A press of his lips on your forehead, a silent promise to never let anything happen to you ever again. Even if it mean giving his own life for yours. He would do it any day. Better him than you.

"We've got the rest of our lives, love."

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void-wolfie · 5 months

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it's hard when i hate myself.

summary: those bad thoughts in your head get a little too loud one day, and you can't take it anymore...

pairing: jenna ortega x gn!reader

tw: self-harm, depression, suicide attempt (if any of these topics are triggering for you, please do not read)

words: 1.88k

a/n: i wrote this for @nofreakinglooseends, hope this lives up to your expectations bub...

*** if you have experience with depression or suicidal thoughts, or if you find any of the above topics triggering in any way - please do not read, these topics are written about in detail below (you have been warned) ***

No one cares.

No one likes you.

You're just a burden.

You paced the bedroom floor, hands gripping the sides of your head as you wondered why your brain hated you so much. You knew the thoughts weren’t true, your friends really did care, they had told you so themselves. Yet, it all felt like one big lie.

In the midst of your pacing, something caught your eye. You looked up only to spot yourself in the bedroom mirror. For a moment, you were caught off guard; you didn’t look like yourself anymore. Dark circles under your eyes, hair that hadn’t been brushed in days, pale skin, and lifeless eyes. You looked like a shell of your former self, barely even recognizable.

When had it gotten this bad?

The floodgates opened. The thoughts came barreling back. Too loud to ignore this time.

Stupid.

Mistake.

Failure.

No one cares.

No one gives a shit.

Better off dead…

You started pacing again, a bit faster this time, praying that the voices would all just go away.

Your mind slipped to your girlfriend. She always seemed to know how to help. What would she say right now? Your mind was blank, you couldn’t think of anything. Then again, it was impossible to think at all with the voices shouting in your head, screaming about what a burden you were.

Jenna doesn’t even care. Why would she?

She only stays with you out of pity.

She doesn't care.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you muttered to yourself, tears beginning to slip down your face, “Just shut up already!”

Call me if you need anything. That’s what Jenna told you earlier before leaving for work. You could sense the full-blown breakdown on the horizon, just minutes away. But you shouldn’t call her, right? She doesn’t need your problems right now. She already has enough to deal with at work as it is, she doesn’t need you making things worse…

She doesn’t love you.

She probably wouldn’t even pick up the phone if you called.

Lies. It was all lies. Jenna told you she loved you every morning and every night. She was there for you all the time. Of course, she cared… right?

“Fuck it,” you grabbed your phone from the nightstand, finding her contact and hitting the call button.

You sat on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing up and down anxiously as you listened to the dial tone.

Once… Twice… Voicemail.

“Fuckkkkkk,”

You redialed the number, hoping Jenna would pick up.

She doesn’t love you.

You don’t deserve her.

She can do better.

“Come on, go faster…” you muttered, your knee bouncing faster as you waited for someone to pick up.

Voicemail. Again.

“Fuck!”

Maybe the voices were right. Maybe your mind didn't hate you, maybe it was just telling you the ugly truth… Your friends don't care about you. Your girlfriend doesn't love you. You’re just a worthless nobody.

You shot up from the bed; anger and panic flooding your mind. Not even realizing what you were doing, you threw your phone across the room. You didn’t particularly care. Your mind was on autopilot.

Tears rolled down your face and you could barely see through the blurry vision.

Maybe it would just be better if you weren’t around anymore. Maybe it would be better if you were dead.

Dead. It was terrifying how much the thought of being dead didn’t bother you. The idea was almost welcoming. You wouldn’t have to suffer anymore, just peace… Peace sounded nice.

"Fuck!" You couldn't take it anymore. The voices were too loud, you couldn't think. Everything hurt. You needed to do something.

You rushed to the bathroom, the tears running down your face made it hard to see. You yanked open the cabinet drawer, digging around for where you hid it. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal, you raced to grab it without caring how it dug into your hand, nearly drawing blood.

You sunk down to the tile floor, rolling up the edge of your shorts to see the fresh cuts. Red lines spanning an inch or so long, each one scabbed over and bruised. You eyed an untouched spot between two red lines, before you could think you pushed the blade in, dragging it across the skin.

Blood trickled down the side of your thigh and onto the tile floor below, but you didn't care. Your mind was finally at ease.

It hurt like a bitch. But at the same time, the pain was comforting. Just for a while, it distracted your mind, easing your racing thoughts.

You looked down, eyeing the cut, the long trail of blood that cascaded down the side of your thigh.

Looking at it seemed to make it hurt worse. It made the voices come back. The cut was just a looming reminder of what a failure you were. But that’s all you were anymore. A mistake. A failure. A nobody.

You eyed the razor blade in your hand. Part of you knew you shouldn’t, it was a bad idea. But the voices were so much louder, so much more convincing. Your head was spinning…

Fuck it.

You dug the knife into your wrist, dragging the blade up towards your elbow. It had to be close to three or four inches long, the blood seeping out nearly instantly. It hurt worse than the ones on your thigh, but you didn’t care. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t be able to feel it soon anyway.

You did it again, taking the blade and dragging it up the other arm. Blood was dripping all over the floor, all over yourself, but you couldn't care less.

Her stomach twisted into knots; her hands shook as they gripped the wheel. She only left her phone for like ten minutes, maybe twelve at most, and in that time, she somehow had two back-to-back missed calls from you. She tried calling you back but to no avail. That’s when the panic set in. You rarely ever called her, and you never missed her calls.

She drove like a madman trying to get home. She was definitely breaking more than one law. Other people were honking, even flipping her off as she drove past, but she paid them no mind. The only thing she could think about was you.

Jenna fumbled to unlock the door; her hands were shaking. It took her longer than she would’ve liked to admit to get the key into the lock. Her mind was a wreck, her head was spinning, and all she could think about was you.

The second she was over the threshold she was calling out for you, praying for some sign that she was crazy and that you were fine.

Unfortunately, her prayers went unanswered.

She checked the living room first; it was closest to the front door. No luck, you weren’t there.

Then she checked the bedroom. She immediately noticed the dent in the wall; your phone lying on the floor underneath it, the screen completely shattered.

Just as quickly as she found your shattered phone, she noticed the light from the bathroom. The door was wide open.

Her stomach dropped; her heart was in her throat. She just knew something was wrong.

The first thing she saw was you sitting on the bathroom floor, unconscious. Then she noticed all the blood. It was everywhere. You were practically sitting in a pool of it.

The razor blade was still lightly clutched in your hand, the cuts going up your arms were an angry shade of red. Your shorts were hiked up, showcasing a sea of white scars and a slew of new cuts.

She wanted to puke.

She knew you were struggling, but she never knew it was this bad.

She took a deep breath, swallowing down the bile in the back of her throat and suppressing the tears that threatened to break free.

Everything hurt. Your head was pounding, and the dim lights felt too bright against your eyes. The bed underneath you felt stiff and uncomfortable. All your muscles ached.

Despite the way your muscles protested, you pushed yourself up on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows.

The first thing you noticed was that you weren’t home, you were in a hospital room. A rather small one. There was the bed you laid in, a small bathroom off to the side of the room, and a TV hanging on the wall. But most importantly, sitting in an armchair underneath the window, was Jenna.

She was lying sideways on the chair, her head draped uncomfortably over one arm of the chair while her legs dangled off the other, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Even from a distance, you could see the dark bags under her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in days.

What was more worrying to you though, was how you got here. Why the hospital? Did you get hurt? Was Jenna hurt? What happened? The last thing you could remember was going to sleep the other night, with Jenna curled up in your arms under the covers.

You looked down, trying to look for any obvious injuries. You quickly spotted the big gauze bandages covering the length of your forearms.

“Hey,”

You jumped. Your head shot up and over towards the window. You must’ve accidentally woken her up somehow.

Jenna was sitting up in the chair, looking over at you tired and worriedly. She looked exhausted.

“Hey,” Your voice was hoarse. Your throat was dry and sore, and it hurt to speak.

“How’re you feeling?”

“What happened?” You asked, dodging her question. You felt like shit, but you weren’t going to tell her that.

“You don’t remember?” Her eyebrows furrowed, confusion taking over her features.

“No…”

You had an idea of what might’ve happened. But you were hoping it wasn’t true.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“You came home from work. We ordered takeout for dinner and watched a movie, then we went to bed.”

Her face dropped. A bad feeling washed over you.

“Babe, that was a week ago…” Her voice was soft and quiet. You couldn’t tell if she was sad or scared, maybe both… Most likely both.

“Oh.” You weren’t sure what to even say.

Silence filled the room. It was painfully loud, nearly suffocating you in the tiny room.

You didn’t want to ask the question sitting on the tip of your tongue. You didn’t really need to; you already knew the answer.

Before you knew it, tears started streaming down your cheeks. You’d actually done it. You couldn’t believe it. You tried to kill yourself… You were at a loss for words.

You felt the bed dip next to you, Jenna sliding onto the bed next to you. She gently wrapped her arm around you, bringing you closer to her. You rested your head on her shoulder, the tears streaming silently down your face.

Jenna didn’t say anything, she just held you close while you cried. Comforting you in the only way her tired mind could think of.

Neither of you knew what was going to happen next. But Jenna was sure of one thing; whatever it was, she was going to be there for you every step of the way.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #void-wolfie

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fsfghgee · 7 months

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Bi-Han Breakdown: because I think he deserves it. And unfortunately, he's receiving a lot of hate for no sane reason

Bi-Han is not a saint, but clearly complex and misunderstood. I hope this post can help you to understand his character and alignment in MK1 better.

1° HE LET HIS FATHER DIE, HE IS EVIL!

Bi-Han letting his father die is the main reason that make people think he is evil, but let's think about it...

Bi-Han let his father die, he didn't kill his father in cold blood and Liu Kang knew about it! Why he kept Bi-Han close, had high hopes for him (his words) and still wants him back if he is so evil?

Liu kang: Come in from the cold, Bi-Han. ("Come in from the cold" Definition & Meaning: to become part of a group or of normal society again after one has been outside it.)

Bi-Han: And again kneel before you?

Liu kang to Scorpion (about Bi-Han): I had such high hopes for your brother.

Scorpion to Geras: I want to see the moment my father died. (so yeah, Liu Kang knows how Bi- han/Tomas/Kuai Liang's father died. And he doesn't blame Bi-Han for his death)

Besides, who said his father couldn't have done the same thing with Bi-han's mother, since she was also a warrior who followed Liu Kang and letting someone die is not a big deal for Lord Liu Kang...

Tomas: Did you intend for me to be orphaned?

Liu Kang: Some threads must be cut to weave time's fabric. (Translation: YES, I DID. WHAT YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?)

Why doesn't he resent his mother for following Liu Kang like he does with his father? Why does he genuinely believes that she would be pround of his actions?

Tomas: If mother were alive...

Bi-Han: She would applaud my actions.

C'mon, look at his eyes! You can see the pain in them:

Bi-Han to Kitana: Your mother's death is regrettable.

He never shows remorse for anything, but he's truly sorry for Sindel's death, because he wasn't there to help them defeats Shang Tsung's god counterpart and maybe prevent her death. He truly admired Sindel. Also, Sindel was a mother. And he loves his mother.

Bi-Han to Sindel: You wield the power that I aspire to.

Bi-Han to Sindel: I don't want your throne. Just part of Earthrealm.

He only despise his father and Liu Kang's authority...

Bi-Han to Liu Kang: My father was a fool to follow you.

Kenshi to Bi-Han: Why do you so resent Liu Kang's authority?

He keep saying to everyone:

Father was a fool, lacked vision, never saw the Lin Kuei's potential etc. Then, you can say BUT HE NEVER SAID HIS FATHER WAS EVIL...

True. But who knows? He doesn't see himself as evil for not trying to save his father (nor Liu Kang, a GOD.) when he had the chance, but a lot of people thinks he is evil for it. And his father was a man of many secrets...

That demon who thinks it's cool kill "evil creatures" whithin her parameters to get what she wants "a pure form/soul": There are many in the Netherrealm (hell) just like you.

Bi-Han: You conflate ambition with evil, Ashrah.

Bi-Han to himself: Our father was a man of many secrets.

2°

HE IS MEAN TO TOMAS AND TRIED TO KILL HIM, HE IS EVIL!

I truly love Tomas, but Bi-Han not accepting him as a brother in front of him, doesn't make him evil. Tomas's family was murdered by Lin Kuei's warriors in front of him and the grandmaster (Bi-Han's father) took him in to make of that broken child a powerful warrior who could also kill! In Bi-Han's eyes, Tomas was always a potential threat to the clan and he state it in his face:

Bi-Han to Tomas: Your treachery does not surprise me.

But despite everything, he also, multiple times, recognize Tomas as a worthy fellow Lin Kuei and even as his brother:

Look at how proud Tomas seems to be 🥺

How could Bi-Han think about harm Tomas when everything happened so fast?! He couldn't even see where Tomas was, he rushed to check where he was and not even looked at the ground to purposely kick a rock on him:

Liu Kang: Your brothers regret losing your fellowship.

Bi-Han: Then they shouldn't have disobeyed my commands.

He clearly recognize Tomas as his youngest brother, just not in front of him. You ask me why he doesn't do the same in front of Tomas? Firstly, he always had a foot out the door in his relationship with Tomas because of his background (TOMAS'S BIOLOGICAL FAMILY WAS MURDERED BY HIS CLAN); Secondly, Tomas was supporting all that Kuai Liang's mourning for their father's death and Bi-Han was clearly fed up and lost it. You can even see how surprised Tomas was:

He clearly wasn't expecting to hear him talk like that.

And we can't forget that Bi-Han was Tomas's idol before his betrayal. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't idolize and really miss someone who is constantly mean to me, so yes, I don't believe that Bi-Han was constantly an asshole to Tomas, just cold how his own statement:

Tomas: You've always been cold to me.

Bi-Han: Because your blood is not Lin Kuei.

And after defeating Nitara and Ermac the first thing that comes to his mind is the physical integrity of his brothers. He checked BOTH of them:

3°

HE TRIED TO KILL KUAI LIANG, HE IS EVIL!

We must have been watching different things, because there's no way that the GRANDMASTER of an ancient warrior clan, who can easily kill and is trained for it since childhood, would miss this chance if killing his brother was his true intention:

They trained since childhood, Tomas not even tried to separate them...

You ask why? Because he is used to it! They trained since childhood, they fight against each other since childhood too.

He only shows up to check Kuai Liang when he worries that Bi-Han could have blinded him, that is, gone too far.

And he quickly goes back behind the scene when he sees it was just a scratch:

End this, brother! Embrace the future!

He wasn't trying to kill him (look how he deliberately made this blow go soft here), he was trying to PUNISH him for disobey. And then, I ask you, with whom do you think he learned to do that?

And after this blow, he was holding back so much that he lost to him

4°

HE BETRAYED HIS BROTHERS! HE IS EVIL!

They feel betrayed by him, Bi-Han also feel betrayed by them, but Bi-Han actually betrayed earthrealm and more than once offered them the chance to join him, which they refused because they just want to defend earthrealm not govern it. Which hurts Bi-Han so much, since the entire clan and his best friends (Cyrax and Sektor) believe in his vision, make the clan great again (lol, I mean, achieve greatness, bring glory and respect to his clan etc), but his brothers don't:

Kuai Liang to Tomas: You forget Cyrax and Sektor. Their loyalty to Bi-Han is absolute.

Tomas to Kuai Liang: That the Lin Kuei won't aid us is unforgivable. Bi-Han has corrupted them totally.

His only wrongdoing was trust in Shang Tsung and Shao. They fooled him with false promises. And he already regrets having believed in them:

Bi-Han: I was wrong to trust you.

Shao: Yes, Earthrealmer. You were.

Shang Tsung: You have been cold to my entreaties.

Bi-Han: Because you proved you can't be trusted.

Havik: We were both played for fools.

Bi-Han: Shang Tsung and Quan Chi will pay.

But, unfortunately he has been hunted for helping Shao break out of prison and they are calling him a traitor for it, nothing more:

Sindel: With one act you betrayed two realms.

Bi-Han: Neither deserved my loyalty.

Bi-Han: I helped you, but I've earned no respect.

Shao: Because there's nothing lower than a traitor.

Bi-Han: You would still be in prison, were it not for me!

Raiden: I never thought you would betray Earthrealm.

Bi-Han: My only loyalty is to the Lin Kuei.

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asgardianhobbit98 · 2 months

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Four for Valentine: Week 3 "Eavesdropping"

Fandom: DC, Nightwing, Batfamily

Pairing: Nightwing / Female Reader

Important tags: Probably the most overdone trope in the world but hey, it’s Nightwing fluff, we deserve more Nightwing fluff; fluff; proposal; eavesdropping; established relationship; female reader.

Summary: You overhear Dick and Bruce talking on the phone and find out Dick is wanting to borrow money... This sets off some alarm bells in your mind as their relationship is so strained it must be something very important for Dick to ask for money. Turns out, though, that it's not all as bad as you thought it was...

Written for my "Four for Valentine" event 🩶🩷

Tag list: @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @knittastically @heilith @lathalea @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @nowandthane

if you want to be removed or added to my tag list, please let me know 🩷

You had been done with work maybe two minutes earlier than usual. Yet, in those few moments before he noticed you, you managed to overhear enough to scramble your brain completely.

Dick was on the phone with someone you deduced to be Bruce – not because you were in any way a detective like Dick, but because you literally overheard an annoyed ‘Bruce’ come from Dick’s mouth.

Awkwardly standing behind him, you listened in on what was going to become a life changing moment of eavesdropping.

It wasn’t like Dick had any secrets from you to begin with, so eavesdropping wasn’t perhaps the reason behind why you suddenly felt so awkward. It was more the fact that, quite honestly, Dick’s relationship with Bruce was.. complicated. And on top of that Bruce was a very intimidating character all on his own. So you didn’t want to interrupt in the slightest in fear that he might get annoyed with you (not that Bruce ever could get annoyed with you). So you stayed right there on the side of the street, staring at Richard’s back as you overheard everything…

“It needs to be perfect. She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, I can’t just give – But it’s just a little… Yes, I know. I know. I know what I said. I just can’t afford this one right now. I’ll pay back… Really? No, I want to pay back. Thank you Bruce. I mean it. I owe you one. No, I do. Thanks. Bye.”

Once he hung up, he turned to find you awkwardly stood behind him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, which was unusual as Dick was really difficult to scare. The man had a sixth sense or something, probably from his time at the academy.

“Did you just overhear-“

“No! Not at all,” you were quick to say.

But inside, that lie didn’t quite cover the beating of your heart and the worry spreading through your chest. Dick would never borrow money from Bruce because of their complicated relationship. So what was so important…

Assuming it was you that he was speaking of was something you were comfortable with. After all, this man had devoted himself to you since that day, three months into your relationship, that you’d caught him mid mental breakdown in the shower… and you had jumped in, clothes on, to just hold him. He went through so much. So much pain. So much anguish. He saw such horrors as a detective in Bludhaven. You just wanted to be there for him. So of course you were. Without judgement. Without fail. And apparently he’d had little to no such support before. Because from that day on, Dick had been in love with you.

You’d fallen for him a bit earlier, but once his love was locked in, you only fell deeper in love with him. He was so gentle, so caring, and so extremely goofy… Just to make you laugh, smile…

Perfection. He was perfection to you. And so, you didn’t feel it was a presumption to think he had been speaking about you. The only thing your brain was trying to figure out was what he was borrowing money for.

…

He drove you home, as always.

You didn’t live together yet, but you practically did.

On the days that he could get away from work to pick you up from your job, drive you home safe and walk you up to your door, and subsequently enter after you invited him in for dinner or a movie marathon or to just talk, Dick didn’t go home. He had clothes in your closet, his own set of towels, his own bar of soap. And you had the same objects in his flat.

Why the two of you didn’t live together yet was mainly because Dick was a little reluctant. Not in a bad way. But he was worried for your safety. He never brought his work home unless it was too much on him and he needed to talk or cry to you, but he was terrified that “work” would follow him home some day and it would put you in danger.

You weren’t quite sure why, considering Dick always managed to put everyone in jail. And if he didn’t, then Bludhaven’s protector, Nightwing, sure did. Still… you let him fret about your safety and you didn’t push him on the subject.

You hadn’t mentioned living together for three years now. It had turned into a comfortable routine to simply pretend to have daily sleepovers.

But as Dick walked you up to your door that afternoon, using his own key to unlock it for you, you were quieter than usual and forgot to offer the usual invite in.

He tried to ask if something was the matter but you just kept up the ‘no no! I’m okay!’ façade as best as you could.

The routine continued as normal for a while after that; the gentle homely everyday life the two of you had created, where Dick would sit himself down at the kitchen counter with some reports he wanted to finish, or read through, whilst he watched you cook happened just as always.

He cooked sometimes too in the beginning of your relationship but that hadn’t lasted long as he was, quite honestly, useless in the kitchen. You blamed his childhood where he’d literally had a butler. He blamed the fact that he was just better at other things. Whatever it was he was better at, you used to joke, you hadn’t seen it yet.

He’d always chuckle and pretend to be hurt before pressing kisses to your temple, hugging you tightly.

This evening was a little different from others though. He finished some reports. You cooked. He would look up and stare at you… And that was where the difference came in. You wanted to turn around and catch his gaze as usual, send him a little loving smile… But you didn’t. You were too caught up in the conversation you’d overheard, not sure why. Your mind was trying its hardest to come up with something: a reason for why Dick would borrow money for you…

Of course Dick noticed that. He was a detective, and a damned good one when it came to you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked once more. There was a mixture between worry and haste in his words whilst he stood to move over to you.

You were absentmindedly stirring the boiling pasta which wasn’t needed as much as you were doing it, but it was something to avoid his loving gaze. He hugged you from behind, and you instantly leaned back into the hug, enjoying his little kisses and his little nibbles at your neck. “You’re quiet and you’re avoiding me. You never do that.”

True. Even if you were sad or upset about something, even him, then you’d never become distant.

Humming in delight at his show of affection, you let go of the wooden spoon and let your hands rest on his arms around you. “I’m sorry, Dick. I don’t mean to worry you.”

“So something is wrong?”

“No… I don’t know.”

He let go of you to gently turn you, catching your gaze with a tilt of his head. “What do you mean?”

You desperately reached out to hold his hands, just to touch something and to ground your thoughts a bit, because honestly you weren’t quite sure why you were so fixated on this but… you were.

“I guess I sorta overheard your phone call earlier…”

“Oh…” His eyes grew big, and he tensed.

Oh no.

“Love, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but why were you asking Bruce for money?”

Dick shook his head quickly, “Wait no, this isn’t…” Dick sighed. “Just. Stay there. Well, don’t let the food burn I guess but stay there.”

He suddenly rushed off, leaving you with more questions than anything else, really.

“Dick? Wait where are you going?”

He grabbed his jacket and just reassured you it was all okay and that you shouldn’t go anywhere… then he left.

Huh? You stood, dumbfounded, in the kitchen, pasta boiling, sauce bubbling…

And now you were less worried, and more confused. Dick hadn’t seemed weirded out or like he was off to never come back, he just seemed stressed about something not going his way and you really had no idea what was going on.

Fighting the urge to get a little upset about his lack of communication, you finished cooking and prepared two plates of food.

In the end, you ate yours all alone, and put his plate in the fridge for him.

You cleaned up the kitchen, you watched the sun go down over Bludhaven, you stared at the clock, you paced for a while, you tried to watch TV for a while…

Hours later, you gave up waiting and moved to the shower. You sent a couple of worried text messages with no response. You got ready for the night as best you could despite the growing pit in your stomach.

Did he run out for good after all?

Had something happened?

He had seemed stressed, maybe he didn’t drive safely?!

…

At some point during the night, you’d heard the key enter the slot and the front door open. It wasn’t like you could sleep, after all, so you’d propped yourself up on your elbows and waited. It was Dick’s footsteps that entered. He shifted around a bit by the door, then his steps disappeared into the flat.

Confused, and at this point a little hurt despite not knowing what to be hurt about, you just laid back down and turned onto your side.

What a strange day.

…

Not quite sure if you got a lot of sleep in or not, but at least aware that you had fallen asleep now that you knew Dick was safe, you were suddenly stirred awake by Dick crawling onto the bed.

He sat on his knees next to you, reaching for your shoulder to wake you, but paused when he noticed you move your head to look at him. It was dark as all hell in the room, so you only saw his shape for a while. Until he bent back to turn the lamp on behind him.

You squinted your eyes for a bit as they got used to the light, noticing him shift his hand to hold something out to you, but not seeing what until a bit later and…

Once you saw what it was, you just sort of stared.

There were even more questions in your mind now. He had run out for this!? Was this the thing he wanted to buy that he required Bruce’s help with!? If so, you understood why because… this ring looked expensive. Not only that, but you saw the little black box had an insignia from a rare jewellery store which one couldn’t find anywhere but in Gotham City.

Had Dick really gone all the way to Gotham just now to… “What’s this?” you asked, voice filled with sleep.

“A ring.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him. “I know but… Dick, I asked earlier-“

“It was this. I saw this a couple days ago when I visited Bruce.”

Huh? When had Dick been to Gotham? So many questions…

“I wanted to get it for you. It’s… It’s perfect.” He was still sat there on his knees, both his hands holding the little black box open for you to see.

You were still half asleep in bed, head lifted from the pillow, sheets wrapped around your body snug. “What… Dick I don’t get it.”

“Marry me.”

OH.

“I mean…” Dick laughed a bit awkwardly, “Do you want to marry me?”

Were there still questions that you had? Yes. Many. And a lot of them were going to be answered those days before the wedding when Dick decided to come clean about his secrets, but for now… For now, you were elated.

This silly man had driven to Gotham to get the ring once he understood that you were beginning to get onto what he was planning… For what? Just so he could still surprise you?

Probably. He liked surprising you.

So of course you laughed. A little bit at him rather than anything else. He looked a little miffed by this reaction, so you were quick to sit up in bed and reach your hands out to lovingly cup his hands holding that… insanely expensive looking ring. Which you loved, by the way. Even if you were scared of wearing it in fear of breaking it.

“This is what this was all about?” you asked.

He nodded his head, his blue eyes clearly not quite sure yet of whether you were okay with this or not.

So, you were quick to smile at him and nod your head to ease his mind: “Yes, silly. Of course I want to marry you. You didn’t have to ask. And you didn’t have to get such an expensive ring. All I ever need is just you.”

He smiled. Oh did he smile. It only made this moment even more precious to see him smiling this much.

After three years with him you didn’t think you could see any new sides of his, but that smile… that smile was different than anything you’d ever seen before. That smile was adoring and devoted and close to crying all at once… and you loved it. It was a special smile, you’d find out. One that only happened during a couple of special moments in his life. Like right now when he looked at you through a new lens of love.

“All I ever need is you too. But I wanted to get you the most perfect ring, to show you how much you mean to me.” He leaned over and pressed a long, deep kiss to your lips, before pressing his forehead against yours, noses touching as he slipped the expensive ring onto your finger…

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sugarybisous · 1 year

Text

sharpay evans stood out as a character not only because of her pink and stylish wardrobe but because of her confidence and the way she wasn’t afraid of going after what she wanted and knew she deserved. she worked hard for her passions and for her goals, she was also a QUEEN of manifestation.

(don’t believe me? listen to the words she uses in this iconic musical number!)

do not settle, plan your dreams and go after them!

throughout the whole movie nobody can deny sharpay wasn’t ambitious. she knew EXACTLY what she wanted and never hesitated to go after it. keep this mindset. if you want something in life it’s already yours you just have to go out and grab it. make your mind limitless, dreams are supposed to be grand and huge, just because other people don’t understand them doesn’t mean it wasn’t meant for you it was put into your head for a reason. ♡︎

stand out from the crowd and don’t be afraid to be “extra”!

who wants to be like everybody else? sharpay stood out the moment she stepped on screen and her peers around her laughed at her for being “snobbish” when she was simply a girl who knew what she liked and wasn’t afraid to express herself. we live in a world where people will tell you what you have to be and what things you have to like based on your race,gender,ethnicity, pretty much anything but break out of the norm! be expressive! leave your own mark on the world. do NOT water yourself down to be more digestible for others.

you fell? get right back up.

thoughout the whole franchise sharpay’s hard work would be overlooked or messed with, despite that she continued to get up and start over all over again. no one is deserving of you loosing out on the things you want in life. whenever there is an obstacle you need to pull out your confidence and hold it HIGH. if you know you deserve an amazing life why are you letting little road blocks stop you? do not let anyone steal your hard earned spotlight.

have confidence!

it’s a non-negotiable. build yourself up, become “snobbish” in the way that you love EVERYTHING about yourself. become “selfish” in the way that you are constantly looking out after yourself and choose to put yourself first always. walk around like you are THAT girl because you are.

WADROBE & ACCESSORY BREAKDOWN:

sharpay was always dressed up. she was known for her signature color pink which she incorporated a lot but didn’t shy away from glamorizing in different colors as well. she was often seen wearing a handbag with almost every outfit or her dog in her other hand or both even! (she even dressed up her own dog) from mini skirts to high heels to a shimmery hair scarf on her head to huge sunglasses or her signature tiara, she loved bedazzled things and glitter and sparkle, she always accessorized with necklaces such as her signature s or star, bangles on her arms and some kind of hat or belt on her. with eye catching materials on her like fur or the black dress with flattering holes on the side. she also glamorized and made the things she owned to her prefference like a perfect example is her iconic locker, don’t be afraid to make things to your liking if it isn’t available! be creative and crafty! if it’s not made already, take matters into your own hands!

this was something i have been so excited to work on for a while now as i have lots of things in common with sharpay, everyone deserves to think they are amazing!

#self help #how to be like sharpay evans #sharpay evans #hsm #highschoolmusical #ashley tisdale #itgirl

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lordofdestructionm · 1 year

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The fear behind the manic grin

I know I have a reputation as a feral Vikdecai account (I mean can you blame me?) but all the characters in Lackadaisy are amazing and the main cast all have their own interesting stories playing out

Case in point the musical, poetic and lovably derranged Rocky Rockaby who thanks to the Pilot (for what will hopefully soon become a full series) a new large audience being introduce to

But there is one moment where the feral energetic grinning persona slips and we see the face a of a broken young man in a state of total despair, before mercifully Mitzi decides to lighten the tone

This is key to understanding Rocky and his motivations

After being abandoned by his father and his mothers death from illness Rocky was raised in his early years for a period of time by his aunt Nina along with his cousin Calvin (Freckle)

However, due to some as yet unrevealed tragedy, Rocky was ejected from the Mcmurray house and spent the following years riding the rails

He stayed in touch with Calvin, writing him letters about his adventures, and as you would expect from a flamboyant personality he exaggerates what a big adventure it was how optimistic he was feeling at this time as he travelled from place to place working various assorted odd jobs between 1921 and 1924

The Lackadaisy Wicki provides a nice breakdown

But of course the reality is quite different. Having no home, no family and no friends outside what brief and fleeting acquaintances he made on the road took its toll

But that changed when he found himself joining Zib's band in 1925 which at that point was playing exclusively for the Lackadaisy Speakeasy. For the first time in years he has not only found somewhere seemingly more long term to be but back in the place he thinks of as home

But even this seemingly positive change does not get to last long. Atlas's death in 1926 throws everything into uncertainty and without its leader and despite Mitzi's best efforts things begin to decline both financially and in terms of manpower.

Those that remain do so for various reasons despite leaving arguably being the smartest option. Rocky does so because he is done with drifting and is determined to hold onto the solid ground he has found no matter what. He makes this desperation clear to Calvin

Though it should be noted while he wants the Lackadaisy to be saved he wants it done on certain terms. Specifically ones where he is the golden boy that saved the day. He is desperate to ingratiate himself to Mitzi. This is in part due to him having a crush on her, but even this is tied to his perception of her as a "damsel in distress" that he can ride in and rescue, and in the process secure a permanant place for himself

This is why in both the pilot and the comic he is so devastated when he sees that she is dissapointed with his efforts.

This is also why in both you can see a barely passive aggresive attitude towards Wick.

Its not just that he is a rival for Mitzi's affection, the friendly wealthy industrialist who clearly has a thing for the beautiful widow threatens to make Rocky and his efforts to be the Knight in shining armour redundant and equally so Rocky himself.

If he invested his money in the Speakeasy he would be the hero and Rocky would just be the clown that tried so hard (risking his life even) but failed, only for some handsome aristocrat to stroll in with his chequebook

Rocky fears being adrift again. Of feeling alone and unwanted again. He is willing to go to extreme lengths to prevent that from happening. To feel wanted, included and loved he will start as many fires and thow as much dynamite and dodge was many bullets as it takes

Lets keep spreading the good word and hopefully our lovable pyromaniac and the rest of the cast will get the long running episodic series they deserve to have their stories told (and of course get more love for the comic)

#lackadaisy #lackadaisycats #tracy j butler #rocky rickaby #calvin mcmurray #freckle #ivy pepper #viktor vasko #mitzi may #wick sable #pilot #comic #atlas may #1920s #cats #gangsters #prohibition #animation

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fangirltothefullest · 4 months

Note

Okay but now what if how you designed Remus but in as many words as you want, because I'm loving these design breakdowns

HELL YEAH!

Remus to me is full of chaos but he is also the antithesis of Roman with similar qualities but a total lack of self consciousness or bashfulness. He is freedom and he gives no shits.

Inspiration 1: Mad Madam Mim

I start with a disney character full of chaos and I am inspired by mad Madam Mim because she is wild and chaotic and i absolutely love how fun she is as a villain and the most important thing for me is that Remus is fun. He's bonkers and has terrible ideas but he's also harmless in terms of reality. He's like an annoying little brother that wants to show you the Weird Gunk he found in the trash.

Inspiration 2: Snidley Whiplash (or Dick Dastardly)

Remus to me is a guy who knows a lot of things and he's actually really clever but he wants to BE a villain like Snidley Whiplash or Dick Dastardly, including the moustache. He wants to tie people to train tracks because it's fun. His personality is "I found the dynamite and the roller skates! :D"

Inspiration 3: Wile E Coyote and looney tunes as a concept

If Remus is anything it's a creature that can be stabbed in the eye and come back fine. It's a person who can make acme-like contraptions that do not work and that's ok. He is, if nothing else, Wile E Coyote and he is having the time of his life. He should therefore have hair that is a littler wild and crazy and untamable like Wile E's tail.

Inspiration 3: Royal villains

We will look at Galavant and also OUaT again!

There's nothing quite as detailed in costume as evil royal villains. They always seem to be the most extravagant or at least have all the buckles and things and Remus has an outfit just the same. Like Roman I want his royalty to show with his clothes but unlike Roman I want Remus to look way less put together. More a culmination of his clothes he chooses to wear but only because he HAS to wear something so he's going to show skin.

Particularly though the one I associate with Remus is Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time.

Inspiration 4: Captain Hook / Pirate aesthetics

Roguish, half-opened shirt, details, dressed fancy, swashbuckling. Remus would make a great pirate because he has the swagger and charm of a drunken man sailing a boat with a pet giant octopus he calls Lil Pussy.

Speaking of octopus...

Inspiration 5: Kraken and hentai

He has an octopus on his belt and he deserves tentacles for a pirate feel but also for fuckin. Cause he's a raunchy bastard. Anything taboo is something he wants to think about.

Inspiration 6: Punk aesthetic

What easier way top buck against the norms than to embrace punk vibes? Jewelry, upside-down crosses, I don't like going overboard with it but I like giving him some. Fingerless gloves, chokers with spikes, those kinds of things work well for his "I am everything your religious grandmother hates, embrace it". His outfits that aren't standard could look like he made them himself or found them in the garbage and went "awesome!"

Inspiration 7: Weapon Master

Remus likes to hit things with his mace and while Roman has his sword, I imagine Remus is an expert at weapons or at least likes to use them so even if I am going to dress him up nice I want a weapon nearby somewhere.

Things that are a must:

So many details, Remus will not leave your eyeballs alone. If you think Roman has details nope, Remus wants your eyes to bleed with them.

Remus should have longer hair than Roman, wilder bangs and wilder curls. Shorter hair is fine but a ponytail is even more fun. Like the tie holding it'll break at any moment.

Weapons galore, arm this baby at every opportunity. Likewise, scars are acceptable but it's ok if they disappear at random because chaos loves chaos.

If Remus has his main garb off he should be showing skin to the best of his abilities and his collar should drape down wider than normal because let that man be a slut.

Tentacles should be numerous when shown and they should have a mind of their own doing whatever they want.

If Roman wouldn't wear it, Remus would. If Roman wouldn't think it, Remus would, and if Roman would be disgusted, Remus would love it.

Remus should have annoying little brother vibes.

Any non-standard outfits should look like he cobbled them together with duct tape and chewing gum.

So I came to this:

#tashiarts #sanders sides #inspiration for remus

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symphonyofsilence · 11 months

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Honestly, it looks like at least after the Guanyin Temple, WWX is actively resisting understanding that JC still cares about him. JC takes a Stab to the chest for him, asks him why he didn't keep his promise & stay by his side, has a full breakdown over his sacrifice, gives him back Chenqing that he's kept for all these years, gets angry at JGY on his behalf, JGY spells out for WWX that JC is angry because he feels WWX was wronged, and that JC must have come to rescue not only JL, but WWX too, & targets WWX in the middle of the fight, fully trusting that JC would rush to his rescue, and he does. JC even thanks LWJ and holds a fallen WN. & I think one reason that WWX might be subconsciously fighting against getting all these clear signs and still avoiding JC might be that as much as he thinks he can’t handle JC’s wrath and blame and wants him to forgive him, he actually can’t afford JC’s forgiveness and unconditional love. Because he still blames himself for JZX’s and JYL’s deaths and even the massacre of Lotus Pier. & JC is the only one who has the right to be angry at him for all of these. He and JL. JC’s the only one who knew JYL & genuinely cared about her. WWX doesn’t think he deserves JC’s forgiveness. In fact, he looks terrified of it. Just look how quickly he turns from JC after thanking him for giving Chenqing back to him (Chenqing that after all these years still sounded like he had first used it. A very telling sign of JC's affection in itself.) Even though even JL who was watching from afar could say that JC had something to say to WWX:

JC is an outward force blaming him and being angry at him. WWX can tell him that he doesn’t know what to say to him when asked for an explanation, he can tell him that it’s all in the past. Let it go. he can beat the shit out of him. He can apologize to him and be judged by him. He can avoid him. Pretending that by ignoring him he doesn’t have to face the past. JC blames WWX and is harsh to him so WWX doesn’t have to fight himself and blame himself all the time. post-resurrection WWX keeps misinterpreting everything JC says and is unwilling to listen to him and get the hints JC keeps giving him about how he just wants WWX to come back home & interprets everything JC even doesn’t say in the worst ways he can bc it’s not so much about JC than it’s about WWX projecting onto JC. Because he thinks JC MUST be thinking that way. BC WWX thinks he deserves JC’s hatred. And judging by how he keeps misinterpreting JC even pre-time-skip, and in true WWX fashion fully believes himself to be right & doesn't second guess himself and or makes any effort to understand JC, & JYL is always the JC translator for him, from the moment she says to him that despite his tantrum JC is happy to finally have a playmate, to the moment she says that JC was the one who offered WWX name JL, and without JYL there to take their hands and pull them to meet each other in the middle the brothers can't communicate, Jiang Cheng has never been so much his own person in Wei Wuxian's mind as WWX's interpretation of him. WWX's shidi. An open book to WWX in WWX's mind. When he was not WWX's fragile shidi who needed protection (which @cerusee has written a great meta about here.), then he was WWX's betrayed, angry shidi who blamed him & resented him. If JC forgives him and continues to be his loving brother then it’s clear that the only one who can’t forgive WWX is WWX. and what is he gonna do about that?

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formula1blog · 6 days

Text

Bust the windows out your car

Part 1 - Traitor

Part 2- Take me back to the night we met

Part 3- You are here

EX Charles Leclerc x Singer Fem!reader

Summary: You publish a new album dedicated to your ex. And maybe let yourself get a little crazy.

Wc: 824

A/N: All the songs belong to their right full owners.

Tag list: @loloekie @callsignwidow

It had been a couple days since everything took place. There had been lots of breakdowns, calls from Charles, hating yourself and more break downs. There wasn't a day when Charles wouldn't text you. Messages were flowing in and you let them all read. You knew that if you spoke to him, you forget everything that happens the moment you see his green eyes. You jump right back into his arms.

Right now you were sitting on the couch, talking about your new album. "I don't know if it is a good idea," Pierre pointed out. "It is still illegaal and you probably have to pay for a new one." He had listened to your idea of shooting a video clip for your new single "Bust the window out of your car." Your idea was to go back to his apartment and look for his Ferrari in the garage. It would be great to let your anger out.

"I don't care about having to buy a new one. It is about sending a message and having a great clip for the single. He needs to know about the pain I go trough. This wasn't just some game for me. " Kika had cheered you on. She had gone with you to buy some baseball bats to hit the windows in. It was a red one to match the car and all of Charles's red flags.

You had written two songs about smashing his car. The other one was called 'Before you cheat'. You wanted to have prove by your lyrics.

The next day you found yourself back in Monaco. Everywhere you looked it reminded you of him. You knew Charles would be away at this time, still knowing his calendar by heart.

Walking inside the garage it didn't take long to spot the red Ferrari. Deep down it did hurt knowing your were going to ruin a piece of art, but it was the consequences he had to deal with. "There you are. I want to apolise for what is going to happen." You spoke to it like it understood you.

Pierre stood at the entrance looking out if no one was coming down stairs. He didn't like this. He knew that Charles wouldn't report you to the police, at least he hoped he wouldn't, that thought calmed him down a bit. But then Charles is also hurt. You never know what comes out of that.

The camera was pointing right at the car, which was gladly standing alone with no other cars around it. You didn't want to accidentally ruin someone else car.

Before you knew it you had hit in one of the windows and glass was flying everywhere. You grabbed one of your keys to leave a puncture in the tyre. Doing some poses on the hood of the red car and laying on top of it. You mounted the lyrics of the song pointing your head to the camera.

Time went by and you had all of the material you needed for the clip. The car was ruined, but he deserved it. He can afford a new one. Just like he can afford a new girlfriend. You look around hoping no one spotted you/ "Where is Pierre?" You ask as you cannot find him anymore. Kika looked at you with a pity face. "Charles was here. Pierre went after him. " Your eyes widens at the mention of Charles. He was here? He didn't stop you? Kika shrugs her shoulders as if she knew what you were thinking. "Don't pay attention to him." You gathered up your stuff and left behind all the pieces of your broken heart.

Y/N!L/N: New album out!!!! Stream ' Sixteen' on all platforms.

Y/N!L/N

I want to thank to people who helped me get trough a hard time. I love you all.<3

-----

KiKaGomez: 🩷🩷🩷

KikaGomez: Absolute great music as always

-> Y/N!L/N: Thank you, gorgeous

Pierregasly: bonne musique, Y/n

-> Y/N!L/N: Merci Beaucoup Pierre

LoveYn: Mother is mothering

ILoveYN: Did anyone see that video clip by "bust the window out your cars??????????????????

-> f1b1tch: Yess, it looks a lot like his own car

-> carsf1: She ruined a ferarri

Totwolfflove: Charles is in the likes

-> Slutforyn: This is not a drill

SlayYn: Finally, new song. I love them all

F1Yn: Did they really break uo??

-> ClYn: I think. Pretty sure the album is about Charles and it are not nice songs.

-> F1addict: He is still in the likes

MaxVerstappen1: great album

-> User729: Max?????

-> mvetcl: Arianna, what are you doing here?

-> Y/N!LN: Thank you Max

Charlesleclerc: ❤️

-> User92: The audacity this man has

->ynlovw: Delulu much

-> Pierregasly: Mate, wtf

-> F1yn: Even Pierre is confused

Do you want another part?

#Charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc 16 #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc imagine #pierre gasly #kika gomes

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buckyalpine · 2 years

Note

I have a request!!!!

Can you do a Bucky barnes x female reader angst based on Call out my name by weekend.....

Like Bucky and reader used to date and reader have been with Bucky in ugly times but he leaves her for someone else...

But reader having a happy ending and Bucky regretting........

By your big fan 🌝

18+ minors dni

Ex bucky x reader, destroyer chris x reader

That song is sexy as hell. I know this isn't straight up cheating but this smells of Bucket to me. sigh. Okay. Here we go.

You really have been with him through everything. The absolute worst of times, holding him, cradling him, loving him through every nightmare, every breakdown, talking him through every insecurity he feels. You are his safe place, the one place he can cry and sob and be himself with no judgement.

You run your fingers through his hair while rocking him close to your body each night, deprived of sleep just like him but you'd never let him suffer alone.

Until.

He claims he needs a fresh start. The more he's with you, the more he remembers the dark sides of his past. You're special, but you remind him of every moment of weakness he's had. You don't remind him of happiness and hope. When he sees you, he sees the place he goes to cry and he doesn't want that anymore.

He just can't see a future with you.

It's over.

You're struggling to keep it together, your heart in pieces while he's flourishing, learning how to love himself now and be more independent. It's hardly been a few weeks until he has a new girl around. He thinks he's found happiness, there's a part of him that feels oddly hollow. There's something missing. He brushes it off because it'll pass and he's dating someone new anyway. She looks very much like you but that's where the similarities end. He learns that very quickly.

She's not sweet like you.

Not patient like you.

Not loving like you.

Not beautiful like you.

She's not you.

Bucky realizes his mistake very quickly, whatever stupid reasons he had for wanting to break up make 0 sense, he understands that now. He tries to have a conversation with you but it's impossible with the team standing in the way each time he comes by your room. Steve hasn't punched Bucky yet but he's very close to hitting him on the head with his shield if he comes to you one more time.

Bucky went looking for you in every girl he came across and it was never the same. You're all he can think of, and it doesn't stop him from calling you for. You can hear his cries at night, your name falling from his lips when he has a nightmare. He's whimpering and crying, he needs you back, he's so scared but he can't do anything about it, he made his choice when he left you.

He calls you for even when he shouldn't.

"Y/n..."

"What the fuck?!"

"I-

Bucky doesn't even bother correcting himself, simply getting off his newest hookup and putting his clothes back on. He doesn't even hear her screaming at him, truthfully he doesn't care, he can just think of you. He wants to call for you, he wants to be wrapped in your warmth, coming undone for you, making you feel good but it never happens.

When he sees you in Chris's arms, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Your new boyfriend won't let Bucky go near you with a 10 foot pole. He treats you like a princess. Just like you deserve. He's protective over you. He's always by your side.

"I love you sugar" He has you on his motorbike, parked outside the compound, his arms around your waist, trailing kisses down your face to your neck. "My pretty girl"

Bucky freezes seeing you both, seething watching the way his hands are stroking your waist, the waist he used to hold onto, the place only he used to be allowed to touch. When you see Bucky, your heart races. Anxiety takes over. You love your boyfriend but you can't help the new fear that has clouded your brain, a part of you is always scared he might leave just like...

"Baby, look at me" He breaks you out of your trance, his thumbs wiping away the tears you didn't even notice spill down your cheeks. "Sweet heart, I'm here" He holds you close to his chest, he knows everything that happened and he's ready to be patient with you and show you exactly how you deserved to be loved. "It's okay baby, m'not going anywhere"

Bucky hates himself even more because not only did he hurt you but you now also feared people would leave you without warning, just like him. He wants you back, every single day but it never happens.

***

Nothing gets easier, even though a part of him is happy to see you doing better. Much better. You're smiling, laughing, surrounded by the team while you look open presents, giggling at the cute little onsies and baby toys the team has brought for the baby shower. Tony got your little one a tiny custom leather jacket to match his dad. There's a set of tiny silver rings. There are way more toy motorcycles than toy cars.

You're in your own world now, with your husband, a little baby on the way.

The pain he's feeling couldn't be worse.

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queerxqueen · 2 years

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Why Byler is the Only Logical Outcome of Stranger Things 4: A Necessary Breakdown of Will, Mike, and Eleven’s Narrative Arcs

Buckle in besties, this is gonna be a long one.

I’m going to preface this by saying I’ve been a die-hard Stranger Things fan since 2016 and I’ve watched every season as it’s dropped, reading theories and analysis between seasons. I adored Mileven for seasons 1 and 2.

However, I truly believe that, from what we’ve seen of Mike, Will, and Eleven’s individual and combined arcs over seasons 3 and 4 Vol. 1, the only outcome that makes logical and narrative sense to the story Stranger Things is trying to tell is a Mileven breakup with Byler endgame.

I’m not going to go into extended metaphors and background details, or even what actors have said in interviews; we’re talking about making sense of characters’ actions and words from a narrative standpoint. As a lifelong writer and storyteller, I’m trying to be more objective. And, assuming the Duffer brothers want to follow satisfying emotional arcs for not only their characters but their characters’ relationships, signs are pointing toward Byler.

Let’s break it down.

Guiding Principles of Narrative

First, let’s talk about what I mean when I’m talking about character arcs and things that make sense narratively. It’s important to note a few things before moving forward. These are key principles that inform the viewpoint of a storyteller and how I’m analyzing this.

Everything has meaning and everything is intentional.

Characters start a story with a flaw, go on a journey that forces them to confront that flaw, and end the story by showing how that journey has forced them to change and grow.

Forcing a character to confront inner conflict and grow from it is an essential ingredient of storytelling. Characters must change as a result of plot events.

Eleven

We have to talk about Eleven first. People tend to think Byler shippers hate El and Mileven, but it’s important to note we’re not talking about what characters deserve, or what we think of them, we’re talking about what makes sense narratively. I adore Eleven and want her to have a happily ever after as much as anybody, but I do not see that happening with Mike.

In season 4, we see Eleven feeling useless without her powers. She’s bullied and doesn’t know how to stand up for herself. She thinks her boyfriend only loves her when she’s a superhero.

We see her go on a long act two journey to recover her powers. It follows that in Act 3, we will see her return and save the day, likely fuelled by the support of her friends and possibly even by her love for Mike.

However, this has not forced Eleven to confront her fear and learn the truth, that she is not useless without her powers. Even with a sweet monologue from Mike, it would feel empty and unfulfilling for him to confess his love to her only after she returns to the action hero version of herself. Eleven would always have doubts about whether he loves her for who she is.

So what would force Eleven to confront her inner conflict?

Eleven is spending this season learning about who she is, and what she is capable of, in every sense. It’s important to note that El’s most important growth moments happen when she is away from Mike. Season 2’s Kali episode, season 3’s breakup, season 4’s adventures in Nevada. When Mike is with her, such as in season 3, her growth stunts; they both become accessories to the other rather than unique characters with arcs. The focus becomes about their relationship.

Additionally, she and Mike have been in a relationship for a portion of her formative developmental years, and the rest of those years were spent growing up in a lab. Eleven has not had the freedom to fully grow as a person individually. We see this in season 3 with Max encouraging her to be her own person. This is a consistent pattern and the show is making a clear argument that Eleven needs to develop as a person before she can develop in a relationship.

I do believe Eleven loves Mike. However, I think by the end of Volume 1 she has already realized Mike doesn’t love her the way she wants him to. She isn’t stupid. I think this is especially apparent in the scene where she is being driven away from Mike and does not look at him as he promises to make things right, talking about her being arrested but alluding to their fight. She’s already resigned herself: she doesn’t believe him.

Staying with Mike would mean choosing the familiar path where she is not forced to change. Ultimately, if her arc is about discovering herself, standing up for herself, and realizing she is worthy of unconditional love, I believe that she needs to break up with Mike in order to put herself first.

Mike

The most obvious argument against Byler is that Mike loves Eleven, so he can’t be gay.

Mike does love Eleven. He cares deeply for her. He shows it every season. Mileven stans, I get it. But it truly seems like this season’s developments are preparing us for the fact that that love is platonic-with-a-capital-P. While Mike could be bisexual, I believe he is gay and repressing himself, staying with El because it is safe, and pushing Will away because he’s afraid of his own feelings toward Will. He’s trying desperately to play the role of the Good Straight Boyfriend but it’s not quite working.

Some might think this is far-fetched, so I’ll back up and talk more objectively. In season 4 vol 1, we see certain inconsistencies in Mike’s actions compared to his actions in previous seasons. Our attention is supposed to be drawn to these seemingly separate behaviors: he can’t tell Eleven he loves her to her face, despite having said it about her in season 3. And, he’s brushing off his best friend Will—that brutal hug—despite being previously characterized as a loyal friend who puts Will first—such as when he went through the rain to apologize to Will after their fight in season 3, a time during which he was also fighting with Eleven.

These are two very distinct differences we as the audience are supposed to notice. They can each be explained away individually: he can’t tell El he loves her because of his parents’ loveless marriage, or because he has a hard time expressing his feelings because of toxic masculinity, or any number of things. He’s brushing off his best friend because he’s either uncomfortable with Will’s queerness or his crush, or simply because they’ve grown apart after a year apart.

These could make sense individually, but we aren’t meant to see them individually, we are meant to see them as a result of some root character attribute. We’re not explicitly told what root flaw or misbelief is informing Mike’s behavior in Vol. 1—not in the way we’re more directly told how Eleven feels like a monster or how Will is afraid to express his feelings for Mike. Instead, we are meant to guess. What root belief could the character have that explains both of his strained relationships in Volume 1? What explanation addresses all of his strange behaviors simultaneously, rather than one at a time?

It’s also important to note that Mike primarily ignores Will when he’s around Eleven; when just Mike and Will are together, Mike goes gentle and kind in a way that feels starkly contrasted to the way he acts around Eleven this season, and especially contrasted to the way he treats Will at the airport. If Mike is truly just homophobic (which I doubt) or just has a hard time expressing his feelings, why then is he so able to express his feelings toward Will?

Additionally, if his arc is simply to learn how to speak his feelings, and it culminates to him confessing his love to Eleven, this would truly be a disappointing and underwhelming arc for Mike. How does that move him forward, challenge him, help him change as a character? Nothing changes because that is the same emotional climax for him as in season 3.

Conversely, him accepting his queerness and admitting his feelings toward Will would force him to reflect, learn, and grow in a way that continuing his relationship with Eleven simply doesn’t. It would move the story forward in an interesting way that impacts the dynamics of the whole party rather than maintaining the status quo.

Mike’s journey is not so much about him expressing himself as it is about being honest with himself. I’m certain Mike cares deeply for Eleven and doesn’t want to hurt her, but he must acknowledge this truth about himself and who he is in order to grow.

Will

Will is the easiest to tackle of the three, because his crush on Mike is much more overt than Mike’s feelings for Will or the impending doom of Mileven. In season 4, we see him crushing on Mike and afraid to confess his feelings.

We don’t need to address all of Will’s queer-coding over the seasons, but just in season 4, we can acknowledge the painting, the longing gazes, the jealousy, the coded conversation about “scary … to say how you really feel,” emphasized by a fear of being rejected with “because what if they don’t like the truth?”

It follows that his arc is about getting up the nerve to confess his feelings, with the resolution being him learning to accept himself, and that his friends love him no matter what. This could theoretically happen by Mike gently rejecting him but reassuring that they’re always friends—but that’s not interesting.

Why would that matter? How would Mike grow from that? How does that impact any of the other characters? It doesn’t. If Will is rejected, his season 4 storyline is almost entirely isolated and unnecessary, with no consequences or impact on the rest of the group. It’s lazy storytelling and I don’t believe the Duffers would do it if it weren’t connected to a greater storyline at play. If his confession results in requited feelings, it would impact not just Mike and Will individually but also Eleven and the Party at large. In short, it would create much more interesting consequences and tension, and I can’t imagine why the Duffers would have written Will’s storyline in if it weren’t going to play out in a way that had that greater impact.

So basically…

For all characters involved, Byler endgame makes the most narrative sense as a natural result of the setup of Volume 1. I truly am optimistic about this queer couple getting a happy ending and hope that this explains the frenzy I’m in right now.

People argue that they wouldn’t trash Mileven after having built it up for three seasons; I would argue that they built it up for 2, and now have spent 2 more breaking it down. Others argue that it would be coming out of nowhere; I would argue that you might have been watching the show with heteronormative tinted goggles.

I could write so much more about Byler making narrative sense with the greater themes of coming-of-age and self-discovery, and I could easily break down every season 3 and 4 scene in painstaking detail, but I think the most important argument that could be made is that Byler is truly the best narrative outcome for each individual character based on what we’ve seen so far.

Anyways, send me Byler asks :)

#byler #stranger things 4 #mike wheeler is gay #byler evidence #byler is canon #analysis #mine #byler analysis #1k+

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plutoswritingplanet · 2 years

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White Rabbit pt.2 (Peter Ballard x Female!Reader)

PART 1

a/n: first of all, i am so fucking sorry it took so long. life kept kicking me over the head, like i was a damn football. but, i’m here now. Started writing it....had a breakdown... bon appetit

Warnings: NON-CON, a lot of threatening, Possessive Behavior, Explicit Sexual Content (oh, you know guys, the usual)

Summary: As you keep getting stalked by the visions sent by Vecna, one moment of peace gets cruelly interrupted.

One pill makes you larger.

There is no way in hell you'll be able to listen to this song again, after this whole ordeal is over. It's already becoming quite annoying, your brain seeking other means of stimulation every time you are forced to rewind the tape. It was your favorite song, of course, but you had so many different ones. You missed Jimi Hendrix, you were not going to lie.

The base continues to repetitively resound throughout your brain, mixing with the ever-present ticking of a grandfather's clock. Sometimes, you can almost make out the familiar shape, the white face with beautiful, ornate numbers. It emerges between the paneling of Max's camper, resurfaces from the drying patches of grass, when you look out the window. Every single sighting, a reminder of your shameful encounter from days before.

Arguably, Max went through her curse in a much more agreeable state than you. The little ginger kept her headphones on dutifully, giving you an annoyed glance, when you took a bit too long to put on yours. Guilt squeezed the insides of your stomach in vice-like grip, whenever she looked at you with this unreadable expression of hers. Like she could read your scrunched eyebrows, deduce the whole story from the way you bit your lip whenever the monster's name was mentioned. She knew something was wrong, of that you were certain. And despite all that, despite the shame consuming your insides, you still wanted nothing more, than to hold the child's hand, to tell her everything was going to turn out fine. Even if you didn't believe a word from that sentiment.

There was a plan forming. A very half-assed plan, that had nearly as many holes, as Swiss cheese. But it was the best you lot had, and after hearing Nancy's prophetic visions, you knew, there was little time for thinking. When you first heard that Vecna, One, Henry, whatever his name was, had imprisoned Nancy in the Upside Down, had shown her nightmares beyond comprehension, your blood ran cold. What did she see, what did he show her? Did she know about your little altercation in her bathroom? Hopefully not. You couldn't stand the thought of your friend knowing about your momentary lapse of strong will.

- He only has one kill left - Dustin says gravely, his hand squeezing your wrist.

You can't look at him. Can't stand seeing your brother worry so much, especially since you are supposed to be the one looking after him. Perhaps Vecna was right, perhaps you really did fail him. You shudder under the oppressing thought, squeezing your eyes shut, so no one can see your pained expression. Despite all that, the feeling of his eyes burning holes into your face makes you twist your palm. You give his smaller hand a hard squeeze, one, that hopefully conveyed just how much he doesn't have to worry about you. Even if you can always hear the sound of the clock just below the music. Even if Vecna keeps sending you visions of spiders crawling over your friends shoulders, little reminders, that after all, you are completely and utterly alone.

Your eyes drift towards Max. She stands straight as an arrow, staring with unseeing eyes, a deep scowl on her face. Your heart nearly wrenches itself out of your chest. This poor fucking kid.

You'd never tell this to Dustin, or anyone else, to be frank. But when Vecna inevitably attacks again, you wish he'd go after you. Max doesn't deserve this, any of this, and despite knowing that you're not ready to die, you'd give yourself over in the blink of an eye, to save her. To save any of the kids. You've watched them grow, alongside your brother, and you'd be damned if you didn't consider every single one of them family.

You've taught Dustin how to ride a bike, your daily lessons quickly gaining an audience of his three friends. Not only that, but you made them sandwiches, when they started hanging out for hours on end, becoming the cool sister. One, that smuggled them sweets and soda, when their parents worried about potential rotten teeth.

Which is why you raise your hand immediately, when the subject of a trap entered the room. You needed to keep Vecna occupied, keep him in one place while others got to his lair. So, the most logical answer would be, to give yourself over. Serving yourself on a silver platter, and praying it gives everyone enough time.

Max leaves the camper, the moment the decision is made. She can't look at you. To be quite honest, not one person from the group can hold your gaze. The pity painted on their faces is making you squirm. It's a small price to pay for stopping the end of the world, and there were quite a few ideas already brewing in your mind.

You wonder how much you can really push your luck.

He did say, he wanted to keep you, savor the guilt or whatever the fuck he enjoys tasting these days. You'd be lying, if the prospect of using this newfound connection to the monster didn't fill you with a sense of anticipation. The memory of his tormenting touches both painful and arousing. What do the people call it? The Call of The Void? You've read about it sometime ago, during one of your weekly raids conducted on the local library. It is a phrase used to describe an unexplainable impulse to hurl yourself into the void, be it height, or, in your case, the life-ending embrace of a monster.

The hot summer air hits your face, as you exit Max's camper. The whole team wearing determined expressions on their faces, the plan slowly rolling into action. You fell behind the group, lost in thought, a deep scowl painting your features as you mulled over all the possible outcomes. None of them were without gigantic risks, and you dreaded for the safety of your friends. Max had explained to you her idea, how to keep Vecna at bay, how to hide from him inside your own mind. Since then, you kept mulling over any happy memories you could find. Prom night, your sixteenth birthday, the day the group first introduced you to Eleven. Images flash behind your eyes, as White Rabbit slowly comes to an end. The grass under your feet is starting to become yellow from the unreleting sun.

That's when a gentle hand on your wrist catches your attention, snapping you back to reality from the confines of your daydreaming. Gentle, brown eyes peer at you from under a cheap rendition of a Michael Myers mask. One of his slender hands drags the rubber up, so the man can look at you properly. Curse him and his dimples, you think, as Eddie Munson smiles at you. There's worry painted across his face, as his eyes swipe all over you, taking in your expression like this is the first time you've seen each other.

- Hey - he says in a hushed whisper, and you can't help but smile at his casual tone.

You can feel his rings drag the material of your shirt, when he rubs his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. Never, not once in all the years you knew about, or heard about Eddie Munson, did you notice the way his eyes reflected rays of sunshine. It is truly a shame your brother didn't bother to introduce you before all hell broke loose. At the same time, maybe it was for the better. Your mother would surely develop a heart disease from all the stress, after seeing her children hang around a man such as Eddie. Light catches on one of his rings, and you are cruelly reminded, that time does not, in fact, stay still, no matter how much you wish it to.

- Hey - you answer, cheeks already forming a blush, to your inner despair.

- You okay? You look kind of... not...here - his hands move, when he speaks, even when he tries to be subtle.

To that, you smile, a shaky one, but a smile nonetheless. A chuckle escapes you, one, that startles you in its sincerity. Eddie smiles as well, cheeks coming up to frame his beautiful, dark eyes.

- Yeah, well, being the bait will do that to you - you attempt to joke, even if the words leave a bitter taste on your tongue.

You can clearly see a shadow of concern flash across his face, as his hand squeezes your shoulder a bit tighter. He's one of those people, who wear their emotions clear as day. There's no guessing about what he's feeling, and you appreciate that. From all the new and terrifying things barging into your life, Eddie proves to be the least confusing.

- I wish I could tell you everything will be alright - he sighs, eyes leaving your face in favor of dancing across the space between the two of you.

- You don't have to, really - you assure him, one hand coming up to rest atop his, giving his slender fingers a soft squeeze, hopefully conveying everything your words cannot.

His face stretches out in a smile, eyes sparkling with that gentle expression you've come to anticipate. And then, you blink.

And when you open your eyes, there's no Eddie.

Instead of his familiar frame, your eyes fall onto a stained-glass rose, floating into the red sky, right in front of your face. You scream, stumble back, until your foot catches onto some sort of root, and you fall backwards. Your body collides with the wet surface underneath, something rotten immediately seeping into the fabric of your clothes, red substance splashing across your shoes. The sight wrenches a gag from your throat. The air is thick and unpleasant, residue clings to your skin, invading your eyes and nose. You cough into a balled fist, and shudder at the unpleasant, tearing feeling in your larynx. Then, just as you're about to take a shaky breath, something wraps itself around your throat.

Before you can even think of screaming, your oxygen gets cut off, and you are forcibly yanked up, to your feet. As much as you struggle and wail, you cannot contort your head back enough, to see, what is holding you captive. It feels raw and fleshy on your skin, and if you focus hard enough, you can almost distinguish four, sharp fingers along with a thumb, squeezing down. Your legs kick out, as you begin to feel lightheaded, and just as the corners of your vision begin to fade to black, the hold loosens. The gasping breath you take feels like razors going down your throat. You take it anyway, despite the pain, tears springing in your eyes.

- So troublesome - you hear a terrifyingly familiar voice, words muttered into the crown of your head, lips moving in your hair.

Fear, like living ice, climbs up your entire body, when the realization as to where exactly you ended up in, falls on you like an avalanche. There's various debris flying around you. Pieces of wooden structures, gigantic, warped remains of cement, smaller rubble falling from the sky. Pieces of a home, you realize, as you begin to recognize wooden columns, a set of ornate stairs, windows. Out in the red space, a familiar grandfather's clock begins to spin, slowly, like it has all the time in the world.

- Let me go - you mutter, brain beginning to slow down, some sort of confounding fog coming over your senses, one, which you refuse to associate with desire.

There's a chuckle, clawed fingers flex around your neck, sharp nails retracting. Soon, there's no memory of a monster holding you captive, and if you look down, you can see a blurred image of a familiar white shirt. He's back to playing pretend, or so it seemed. You'd be lying, if you said you weren't grateful for that small change. It helped to keep your mind from breaking, well, from breaking completely. You want to scream, to tear your body away from this creature, which has caused nothing except blood and suffering. But as you boil on the inside, there's a pressure at your back. A warmth of a body being pressed against yours.

Another hand finds its purchase around your waist, fingers dragging across your shirt, toying with the hem, but never quite catching your skin.

- You know - he starts in a light voice, goosebumps erupting all across your skin from the feeling of his breath fanning over the back of your neck - I never liked sharing.

There's an edge to his deep rumble, one, that makes you open your eyes and hold your body taunt as a string. But he's breathing. My God, he really is breathing. Which means, either he learned how to pretend to be human, even more convincingly... Or he was real, tangible, not some figment of your corrupted mind.

- My mother, my stupid, pathetic mother, used to make me share all my toys with my sister. All my childhood I've never had anything, that was truly mine.

At the word "mine" his head dips down behind you, nose burying deep into the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. You shudder yet again, as he takes a long whiff of air, before letting out a nearly sinful groan. It shakes the very bones inside of you, and your body immediately reacts, a familiar pressure of arousal seizing your lower stomach.

- Which is why - he continues after composing himself, voice still slightly rough - I do not enjoy my things being taken away from me, even for a second.

There's a pregnant pause between the two of you, and you realize, he's waiting for you to say something.

Your brain scrambles for any response to this vague sentiment he has presented you with. Taken away? You weren't taken away in any way, shape or form. He let you go, quite literally. So, you stand, eyes still searching for any means of escape, as you feel him move against your back, like a restless snake. His head comes to rest upon your shoulder, and you know he's looking at your face. His eyes bear into you, drilling holes into your cheek, as if he's trying to see your teeth through your skin. He probably can. This is his domain after all.

- I don't know what you're talking about - you seethe through your teeth, testing your strength against his grip.

Another chuckle, but this one sounds too cold, too humorless, and with a gasp, you feel his hand leave your throat, fingers immediately digging into your hair and grabbing a handful. Then, he spins you around, like a ragdoll, until you are forced to look him in the eye. The beautiful, blue eyes, ones, which holds a cruel glint of sinister pleasure at the sight of your contorted face.

- Do you think I'm stupid? - he asks, all gentleness leaving his voice, and for a split second, you can see his image flicker, giving you a glimpse of the monster he truly was.

The gasp you let out is drowned by a wet, disgusting sound, as his hands throw you back, causing you to land on your backside. The floor welcomes you just like it did moments before, with this weird, unnatural substance coating your clothes, your skin, your hair. Before you can even think of finding your bearings, the man bends down. His movements elegant and effortless, as he climbs over your body. One hand on your knee pushes your legs apart, until he can sit between them comfortably.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, when he drags his eyes through the length of your body, before captivating you in that cold gaze of his. There's no escape from his eyes, and the pure evil lurking within. Evil, and something else. Something, he can read from your own face as easily, as one would read the alphabet.

- Please - you breath out, although you're not sure what you're begging for.

His delicate lips stretch out into a knowing smile. But there's no kindness in his expression, and before you can register this familiar, sinister glint in his baby-blue eyes, his hand grips your throat yet again. This time, his muscles twitch, and you gasp, as your head gets pushed to the ground. Liquid seeps into your hair, dyeing it the color of rust. The force of the impact shakes the very brain inside of your skull, and as specs of white dance around your vision, you try your best to focus on his features.

He leans in, keeping his gaze fixed on your disoriented face, until you can feel the illusion of a breath tickle your temple. Then, you fight to surpress a moan, when he drags his teeth over your earlobe.

- I told you, I will destroy all your friends, everyone you love - he whispers cruel words in the most tender of tones.

Your blood runs cold, and he pins you to the ground, as your body tenses up.

- And, because you force my hand, I will make sure Edward Munson suffers the most.

Panic, bloodcurdling and sudden like a shockwave, ripples through your entire body. Suddenly, you realize why you're here. Because you smiled at him, because you entertained the notion of exploring further relationship... Because you knew you were chosen by the monster, and you still wanted the hero.

- No - your voice is weak, and so is your body, as you start to struggle under his lithe form.

- Oh yes - the monster leans back, to look at your face, a beautiful, radiant smile painting his features - Yes, because it will hurt you. Yes, because I want to see your heartbreak. I want you to understand, without a doubt, that there is only one person in all of the universe you belong to.

Tears start to pool at the corners of your eyes, pain and regret twisting your features. Eddie's face worms itself into your mind, beautiful, brown eyes hollowed and bloody, jaw unnaturally bent.

- And that person - Vecna's image shifts, as rage shakes his stature atop yours - Is me.

Nothing could prepare you for the kiss he has wrenched out of you. His lips soft and unrelenting, as they descended upon yours, like a thunder from the sky. Teeth clink against yours, when he demands access to your mouth, one, you're determined to withhold. That's when his free hand grips your jaw in a vice grip, fingers pressing into your gums, until you are forced to open your mouth. He's quick to fill it, wet tongue immediately searching every crevice it can reach.

Despite it's cruelty, your back arches into the kiss, body writhing underneath him. Your eyes remain tightly screwed shut, as you let the monster take it's fill of you. Hand twists your hair, adding even more pressure at your scalp, and soon you start to worry he'll rip out a chunk of your locks. His other hand is restless as well, traveling the expanse of your stomach, worming itself under the cotton fabric of your shirt.

The feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your breast is familiar. Reminiscent of your previous encounter in the bathroom, although much more terrifying.

Because now, you know this isn't just a game you're playing with the monster on your own.You've dragged another, innocent person along with you, straight into the void. Tears preak the corners of your eyes at the mere thought, of what Vecna has in store for your hero.

- Tell me... - his melodic voice brings you back to reality, eyes snapping open, as you gasp for air.

He looks as unaffected as ever, his illusion of a face just a breath away from yours. You marvel at how realistic it looks, at the way you can see the texture of his skin. The way his flawless cheeks now carry a shade of pink so pretty, you almost forget what he is.

- Tell me... - he repeats, softer this time, his palm sliding from under your shirt, in favor of finding one of your hands.

He brings your arm closer to him, leaning away so he can press a kiss right at your wrist. Your eyes flutter at the gesture, and shame mixes with desire in your gut. He has no right, being what he is, and still doing what he does to you.

- Tell me... - a whisper, lips ghosting over the underside of your forearm.

- When he touches you - your body goes rigid, but he doesn't deter, a ghost of a kiss in the hook of your elbow - Do you feel safe from me?

Your eyes lock, blue encasing yours like the deepest parts of the ocean, dragging you down, and down, towards the darkest of hells. You feel so stupid now. Just another idiot girl, thinking she can outrun unstoppable evil. Thinking, she can find a safehaven in some oblivious boy she barely knew.

But there's still some fight left in your bones, and as his head dips below to bite at your shoulder, you strike. Bending your arm at a speed you're quite surprised you possess. Your fingers find purchase against some fleshy vine creation. It twists in your grasp, a living organism of it's own, despite coming out of his body. Without much of a thought, you pull, fast and ruthless, until the vine pops free. Hot, dark liquid covers your hand, sticking to your skin in a disgusting coat.

The reaction is instantaneous.

Vecna snarls, his body flinging itself off of yours, as he grips the side of his neck. The illusion is gone. What once was a beautiful, angelic man, now is an aglamation of vines and leathery skin. You don't wait any longer, scrambling to your feet. Sneakers you've picked up at a garage sale years ago nearly fall off of your feet, as you throw yourself into a sprint. Muscles scream at you, from under your skin. They've never been used quite as intensely as this, and you know full-well, you won't be able to keep this tempo up for long.

There isn't really any place to run, your mind being completely infected by this vision of a red wasteland. Staying here would be a death sentence however, so, you choose an unfamiliar line of trees, somewhere in the distance. Perhaps, you could hide inside the forest. Wait out, until your friends find a way to help you. Because they will find a way. They aways do.

All your hopes are snuffed away in an instant. You make marely a couple of steps towards your supposed freedom, when a hand grabs at the back of your shirt. Stitches tear, as your body is flung in the air, landing with a sickening splatter right at the bottom of the lonesome, wooden stairs. Every bone in your body hurts, adrenaline making your muscles shake so much, you can't support your weight enough, to push yourself up.

Vecna descends upon you, a wicked snarl twisting his monstrous features. Your head starts to pound, images of the monster and the angelic boy flicker, mixing together right in front of your eyes. You don't know, what you're looking at. You don't know, which face you punch with all your might.

Henry Creel falls onto the floor, as your foot kicks out, hitting him right in the stomach. Vecna gathers himself up, and pounces on you again, as you try to crawl up the stairs. Then, it's Henry again, putting his hand around your neck in a gesture so familiar, it doesn't shock you anymore. Vecna glitches through, as you show your teeth, like a wild animal, that fights as hard as it can, before being put into a cage.

- Get the fuck off me - your voice is raw, breathless, as Henry's human form finally stabilizes for good.

Blonde locks fall in front of his eyes, framing his face in a way you've never seen before. There is wildness and rage in his gaze, one, you mirror with a feverish look of your own. Then, time stops, for only a second. Your breaths mix together, lips so close, you can almost feel them biting into your skin. There's anger brewing under your skin, a writhing, ugly feeling, much like his true form. But there is also desire, newly awakened by this short chase.

- Remember this - he whispers into the space between the two of you, and your eyebrows shoot up in confusion - I am going to ruin you completely.

He doesn't kiss you on the lips this time. Instead, his head dives down, immediatelly attacking your neck, teeth scraping that one place, where he can see your pulse run rampant. With a loud moan, you let go, finally giving yourself up. Jumping into the Void with arms wide open, ready to embrace the nothingness. Henry doesn't waste time, his hands drag your shirt upwards, your arms nearly dislocating, as he forcefully tears the fabric from your body. And you let him, your skin growing hungry for his touch with every second.

Then, comes the time for your pants. You slide down two steps, when this monster of a man fights with the damp fabric. Finally, he frees your legs, throwing the offending piece of garment somewhere into the red void.

The wooden steps dig painfully into your legs and your back. Your head bumps into the edge of the railing, and you pray your injuries don't transfer to the real world. If you ever make it out of here. Henry's body writhes between your open legs, as he unbuttons his white pants. Somehow, his attire remains unaffected by the grime of the surroundings. Your brain is too focused on him, on his fingers tearing into your flesh, to remember, that his current form is an illusion.

It certainly doesn't feel like an illusion, when he yanks your underwear to the side, and enters you in a swift movement of his hips. Your back arches from the steps, legs flailing, as you struggle to accommodate his size. While your first encounter in Nancy Wheeler's bathroom was all about teasing you, this feels more urgent, like there's truly some grand shadow of a time running out, hanging over you both.

Nails dig into the wood of the stairs, scraping the laquered coating. You don't know what to do with your hands, with any of your limbs for the matter. Because no matter where you put them, Henry immediately pistons into your with such force, your body shakes. And, what is perhaps the most terrifying thought of all, it feels good.

The way he pounds into you with reckless abandon, the way his hand comes up to grip your hair. His other hand holds tightly onto the wooden railing, muscles working overtime under the white fabric of his shirt. His head burries itself into the crook of your neck, where he pants, groans and whimpers, every sound sending delicious shivers all across your insides. This is you, this is all your doing. Your head falls back at the realization.

The pressure building at a fast pace in your lower stomach makes you buck your hips up, to meet Henry halfway, to take him in deeper.

- Tell me, who do you belong to? - he seethes into your ear, twisting your hair. - Say it's me, only me, who can make you feel this way.

You hate him so much, it shakes you to your very core. But, his thrusts slow down just enough, to make you whine at the loss of stimulation. You were so close, climbing towards your release with each bruising move of his hips.

- Say you're mine - he grits out, looking at you with those baby-blue eyes of his, so cruel and animalistic.

It's just words, after all. Just words, and you were so close.

- I'm yours - you don't recognize your voice, it sounds so far away - I'm your and it's only you, who can make me feel this way.

He seems satisfied, capturing your lips in a biting kiss.

One move is all it takes, a single, brutal thrust of his hips, and you're unraveling. Muscles spasm all at once, and the sound that wrenches itself out of your raw throat can only be described as a howl of a wild animal. He finishes not far behind, his hips stuttering, before finally, he lets out a strangled groan. His arm gives out, falling from the railing to the floor, and the weight of his body feels surprisingly grounding, as you try not to pass out from all the feelings overtaking you.

- Damn you - he whispers, hand grazing your cheek in a manner that could be considered romantic.

"No, damn you" you want to say, but can't find the strength to.

And as you both lay there, squeezed into the corner of the wooden steps, you blink again.

And when your eyes open, all you can see, are beautiful, brown eyes, looking at you with such concern and kindness, your heart breaks.

- Guys, she woke up! - Eddie screams, not once looking away from your face. - You completely lost conciousness back there. Gone! Poof!

His hands are warm on your shoulders, so gentle, so caring. And in that moment, as you look at him with pained expression, painted with guilt and fear of what will befall him, all you can do is break down and start crying.

...

Taglist

@justtryingtobecreative @shellbeerocks @potato-dragons @sad-innit @lhsthinkr @z4hr4inhere @m1ndbrand @guyinachair27 @7minutes-tomidnight @rand0m--fangirl @universallycloudkid @fate-huntress @queenofthehellfireclub @ulilililiu @sam28637 @thedoubleexposurephotography @hercherrysong @cc13723things @queenofshinigamis @lokistyxx @darkened-writer @alexiaryder @lauftivy @axxochiisstuff @gayqueen420 @angelicadiabolus @julietsecretdiary @miliewayne @4ud13nc3

#peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #my writing #stranger things #vecna x reader #001 x reader #peter ballard #henry creel #tw:dark fic

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rfswitchart · 3 months

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A Lesson From Owl House That Gets Overlooked

So, I don't know if you know this, but I used to have a tendency of bottling things up. I was scared of people being angry and upset with me, so I pushed everything way down and tried to not let things get to me. And the things I've been through are horrific at the kindest appraisal. I think you know why I'm bringing this up... So let's not waste time and just talk about the two most self-conscious characters in the series; Luz and Willow.

I don't know if you noticed this through the series, but Luz internalizes EVERYTHING. Even before Hollow Mind and the whole "I accidentally helped a genocidal maniac carry out his wicked plan" thing, Luz was quietly baring the burden of grief and trauma. We don't know the full scope of the bullying she endured, it was probably hellish and certainly isolated her. Not only that, but she was carrying the pain of losing her father, which she also internalized.

Because of this, along with the bullying and the lack of support from adults in her life (save for Camila,) Luz doesn't really have a great support system until she meets Eda and King. And even then, it took Willow, Gus, and especially Amity for her to really open up about things.

Meanwhile, Willow was browbeaten by virtually everyone in her life. Amity, Boscha, teachers, everyone looked down on her, calling her 'Half-a-Witch,' forced into learning Abomination magic by her dads instead of the Plant magic she excels at. And of course, instead of that pain manifesting as grief and misery, Willow's internalization of her emotions turns to anger, frustration, and self-loathing as we see the first time we meet her.

Of course, she befriends Gus and Luz and things start to get better, but they depend on her strength and wisdom too much, which allows her to mask her feelings in favor of helping and supporting her friends. We see that it doesn't help that much, especially after Amity once again hurts her by accidentally burning all of her memories.

Granted, things worked out between them, but Amity (subconsciously, as she was genuinely concerned and cared about Willow) was looking down on her much later. And yes, Willow gets to be in the Plant track and becomes the Flier Derby captain of her dreams. However she's still hard on herself, still keeping herself from letting things out... Oh, did you guys not notice that in For the Future? Because Boscha was egging her on and antagonizing her in a moment of weakness, Willow was going to probably hurt or even kill her bully out of sheer anger.

Yeah, if that scene played out any further and she wasn't rendered unconscious by sleeping nettles, Willow was going to do something incredibly bad. I think Elijah (not-so-average-fangirl) saw that too, which is why she said "Willow, are you ok?" during that scene. I know from personal experience that Willow was at her absolute breaking point and when you realize that, it's terrifying. She was going to let out her anger violently on someone who deserved it, but not to the extent that she was clearly going to go with it. It's also why Willow does indeed breakdown after that. She can no longer control her emotions, especially after seeing her dad puppeted and the guy she clearly had feelings for die in her arms...

Of course, we know how both Luz's breakdown in Reaching Out and Willow's breakdown in For the Future resolve. They both talk about it or let out their emotions, and they do so in front of the people that matter the most to them.

For Luz, she tells Amity about her dad. She cries over it in front of her and they resolve their first real fight since going out. Then, they both make flowers and cast them off over the Boiling Sea, continuing the tradition of Luz and her mom without being in the Human Realm. Amity's also the one that tries to comfort Luz the most after learning about Belos, because even if our hero isn't feeling great about what happened, she still someone who truly loves and supports her.

For Willow, it was a need for someone who doesn't rely on her telling her that it was ok to let it out. Someone who could stop her and beg her to never call herself 'Half-a-Witch' again. Someone who truly understood all the pain she was going through and was willing to both support her and let her vent. Now who could that be...?

Of course, Gus did obviously help in that scene, but Willow needed to hear it from Hunter. She needed someone who has only ever seen her as strong who didn't depend on her for support to just say 'you've been holding in a lot, haven't you?' Granted, I won't say you need romantic love to let your feelings and pain out to, but I am saying that a strong enough and supportive enough person can help with that. That's why Gus being there in the Willow breakdown was important. That's why all of Luz's friends telling her that helping Belos wasn't her fault was important. The most important thing about bottling emotions is to have someone there to talk to, be it friend, family, lover, or therapist.

#the owl house #luz noceda #willow park #mental health #bottling up emotions

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raainberry · 6 months

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Moonflower - III

« In literature, the moonflower has been used as a symbol of love, mystery, and enchantment. »

Sana x gn!reader

Okay maybe it’s angst this time

synopsis - your job is still flowers. she's still not sure how she got into this mess. but maybe you could get her out of it.

- part I - part II -

wordcount - 3.4K

TW - like three (3) of the same soft cuss word

A/N - here is my first piece of work that made me cry out of frustration (we will be blaming emo hours). now if you saw my breakdown live on the tl two days ago, no you didn’t. and if you saw my update yesterday saying this very thing would be up later that day, no you didn’t either. i fell asleep, your girl was running on three hours of sleep (wonder why🥰) it happens to the best of us SORRY. hope you enjoy it though! im actually not too mad at how it turned out🤭

“How would your wedding look like?” She asked, taking a sip of her water bottle.

You chuckled softly at the question, wondering what had prompted it apart from the obvious.

“I haven’t thought about that.” You answered truthfully.

“Not even once?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.” She said, convinced of her own words.

“Am I?”

“You’ve helped hundreds of people with their own.” She pointed out. “It’s impossible not to think of what yours would look like.”

“I help them choose flowers. I’m not organizing their entire reception.” You argued.

“Then you probably thought about that much.”

You turned to her.

She was right, but you weren’t lying either.

Flowers were the only thing you’d envisioned so far.

“So which is it gonna be?” She insisted.

“Moonflowers.” You answered, making her chuckle.

“I could have guessed that.”

“Yet you haven’t.”

You fully expected the way she rolled her eyes at you before looking away to focus on the dark horizon.

A small, comfortable silence settled between the two of you. One of many throughout this spontaneous outing, and with each one, you seemed to appreciate them a little more.

Because they never seem to last with her.

“I’ll get the moonflowers.” She blurted out, cutting the moment short yet again.

“What?”

“For the wedding.” She said, almost shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Given the context, it was, but still… You stayed silent, thinking back to the very reason you were even sitting beside her at the moment.

The two of you were parked at the top of some small hill overlooking part of the town, laying against the windshield of your car and sitting on top of the hood.

All your problems seemed so small up there, barely even deserving of a thought. The afternoon you just spent together did wonders for your souls.

She had asked you to drive around before going back home. That somehow lead you to hours of wasting gas and money at random shops, most of which you’d never even heard of.

The more you followed her around, the more it all felt like a getaway. Not in the idyllic sense, rather in the literal one. You could tell she was avoiding her apartment. Obviously you had an idea as to why, and maybe that’s what pushed you to give in to every single one of her requests.

It was nice doing things she wanted.

Sana eventually realised that was the true reason why she delayed returning to her apartment over and over. She couldn’t care less about the man living there with her, nor about whether or not he was actually waiting for her there.

She just didn’t want it to stop. The feeling of mattering. Of being considered. Being seen. Heard.

Her smile slowly returned as hours went by, justifying everything you’d done for her in so little time. It gave you purpose, proving you weren’t losing your mind in vain.

Because boy did she drive you insane.

Was she really still going through with it all?

“Why don’t you choose your own?” You asked her, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts.

At the end of the day, it was none of your business. It wasn’t your decision to make.

“Possessive much?” She teased, and you straightened yourself up. The top of this hood suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“Not necessarily. But the only way you’re getting moonflowers at your wedding is by marrying me.”

That’s what you heard yourself say just seconds later.

You’d mumbled it to yourself, letting your old flirting skills and days get the best of you for some reason. You looked at her, hoping she hadn’t heard or at least not enough to get it.

A second passed. Then two. Three.

The lack of questioning was alarming, and in good reason.

You had managed to make her speechless. Unwillingly, yes, but it only made it that much more unbelievable.

Even thinking she couldn’t do, as if her mind had short-circuited at the thought of marrying someone else than the man she’d been conditioned to.

“It was a joke.” You finally spoke up, hoping to break her out of her trance.

It was the truth. It might have been borderline flirting, but the main goal was humor. You were technically joking.

But still. All she did was blink.

Maybe she needed help at finding words, that’s why her lips suddenly fell on yours, right? To steal them from you?

You mentally chuckled at your ridiculous thought process, ashamed of it as if it had been heard by the whole world. Good thing it faded out with each one of her kisses.

She was efficient, you’ll give her that. However what stuck with you was how soft, how delicate her lips were against yours. It debilitated all cognitive functions of your brain. The power was out for at least three seconds at one point. You couldn’t think straight, kissing her back as if you were supposed to.

As if she were yours to begin with.

It’s unclear how long it took for you to gain enough sense back, all you knew was that feeling her bite down on your bottom lip did the trick.

The faint pain as she tugged on it ever so softly snapped you back to reality, warning you about what would come if you didn’t pull away in the next second.

You felt your heart race as it all sunk in.

The one thing you had told yourself not to fall into earlier that day… A trap that seemed so obvious it managed to fool you. You practically jumped into it.

As much as you danced around it, you knew what you were here for. What you’d agreed to. What she wanted you for.

You knew you were just a pawn in her vendetta from the start. She’d made it very clear. So why did the whole idea just dawn on you now?

Maybe you’d turned a blind eye for as long as you could, you couldn’t say to save your life. All you knew was that you didn’t like it one bit.

So when she went for another kiss, leaning in to capture your swollen bottom lip, you made sure she never reached it.

That earned you a confused look from her, as if it were the first time her kiss was denied. The sight would have been amusing, if only you didn’t feel so torn yourself…

Your gaze reflected that to Sana, and she had a hard time figuring out what exactly was it that was so wrong.

Though she could at least tell you were tormented, it was only confirmed when you jumped off the hood.

She watched as you started to walk away from the car and further into the darkness surrounding you.

Where the hell were you going? You were basically in the middle of nowhere.

“Y/N!”

The sound of the rocks and dirt beneath your shoes faded out as you came to a halt, feeling her eyes burning into your back.

“Where are you going?”

You turned around, seeing she had stepped off the hood too, and taken a few steps towards you.

“I’m going home.” You told her, tearing your eyes off her as you started walking away again.

“So you’re leaving me alone in some hilltop at night in the middle of nowhere?”

No, you weren’t.

You made sure to brush right past her on your way back, though, heading straight into the driver’s seat.

Slamming the door behind you, you let out a heavy sigh you were sure she’d heard from outside. It took longer than you’d have liked for her to join you, only sitting in the passenger seat after making sure you’d calmed down.

Not a word from her. Not a sound from you. Only your clothes rubbing together as your leg showed itself to be restless.

You refused to look at her. She didn’t like the attitude, but a part of her could understand. So she didn’t say anything, and stared out her own window in silence.

As minutes went by, your anger and frustration slowly get overcome by a familiar sensation.

Greed. You wanted to know.

Nothing about this woman concerned you. Yet you wanted to know more. You needed to.

The feeling appeared as soon as she’d spoken up at the flower shop, and now it managed to appear without a single word from her.

It was only days ago. The speed of it all was frightening.

Yet you couldn’t help how curious the still silhouette in the corner of your eye made you. What was she thinking about now?

The wedding? Her fiancé? Herself? You?

Turning to look at her, you watched her through a calmer mind as your questions grew in number despite yourself.

“What’s on your mind?” You finally spoke up.

Your voice was louder than you remembered. It startled her, but she hid it well before meeting your gaze.

“Nothing you’d care about.”

You frowned internally. The same feeling as back in the flower shop again. You felt it back when she sat down beside you on the hood earlier too.

She was close. She was pretty. So pretty.

You suddenly felt jealous, and that pretty much signed off on the insanity of this situation you’d somehow put yourself in. Or maybe she’d dragged you in it, who cares, it wasn’t important anymore.

“Don’t get married.”

You whispered this time, but the words were still loud.

Sana closed her eyes, and the silence that followed was loud enough to stress about it. Your words had slipped out again, but this time you found nothing to cover them up with.

Partly because you didn’t even want to cover them up.

Her eyes opened again, allowing the cheap lighting outside to reflect on those beautiful brown eyes. You were in awe at that point. Tired, but still able to appreciate such a pretty sight.

“You’re so unfair.”

You snapped out of your trance at the sound of your own thoughts echoing through her lips.

“What?”

“You know why I brought you here, right?”

Her gaze fixated far ahead while you could only focus on hers. You weren’t trying to make her look at you, though. You were only trying to see what she was seeing.

“Answer me.” She ordered, attempting to conceal the weakness in her voice.

“I do.” You admitted.

“Then help me.” She pleaded. “I can’t do it alone.”

“I’m trying to.” You assured her. “Ever since you stepped into the shop, that’s all I’ve done.”

“Then why did you pull away?”

You sighed once more, finding interest out the windshield as well. Your lips parted without sound for a second, debating on whether or not you should let these words slip out too…

“I don’t want to be your scapegoat.”

Sana swallowed the knot in her throat. The truth was a little hard, but it remained. You were right.

She didn’t plan on kissing you earlier. That alone could have proven your worries to be wrong. However, everything she managed to think about as soon as her lips touched yours… It all gave you more than one reason to worry.

Giving in to desire was weak on her part. Part of her regretted it. It threw away all her hopes of ever pulling the spectacular revenge she dreamed about.

So she had to think of a backup plan.

What she managed to come up with was simple, deprived of any details she would normally be able to think of. Infatuation only allowed her to think of the big picture, while she focused on satisfying her desire.

By that point, she did plan on sleeping with you. She did plan on letting her fiancé find out. And after that, she did plan on throwing you under the bus if things ever got too much to handle.

Now that her mind was given time to properly think, she realised something very upsetting.

This so called backup plan was none other than her inital one. One she’d made up in the lowest point of her life, all out of hope and lost in purpose.

She was back at square one.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, making you look back at her.

Her eyes were closed, and you found out it was a weak attempt at stopping the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

The sight of them surprisingly left you indifferent. You stared at her in silence for a few long seconds, unsure of what to do, or say.

You were hesitant, but you were far from heartless.

Your index finger ended up reaching for her jaw, catching the salted droplet before it stained the fabric of her pants below. The one on the other side of her face might have, but that wasn’t something to worry about for either of you.

Sana’s mind was stuck on your finger lingering on her sharpest bone. The feeling of your skin against hers, of a touch as innocent as this one… It was conflicting.

She opened her eyes, catching yours by surprise. She expected you to, but you didn’t look away this time. That allowed her to notice the color of your eyes for the first time.

She couldn’t tell you why she got stuck on such a detail, and to be honest, she didn’t feel the need to find a reason.

She could, so she did. Something else she hadn’t been able to do in a long while.

And it felt good.

“Y/N…”

Your jaw clenched at the sound. Your name sounded so pretty enlaced in that sweet voice of hers…

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you anticipated her next words. The flutter in your chest made itself known again as the adrenaline left little room for shock when she’d eventually say them.

“Do you still want to sabotage a wedding?”

A heavy sigh freed the breath that had caught in your throat.

It dawned on you yet again. Hearing those words for a second time… You were going in circles. This really was nothing but a trap.

You didn’t know if she’d done it on purpose, if she lured you in or if she was just as stuck as you were—Hell, you didn’t even care.

You just needed to get out while you could.

So your hand found the key in the ignition, and it took no time for you to start the car up.

The sound of the engine revving as you prepared to leave triggered something in the woman sitting next to you. Something that made her heart race as she began mumbling something.

It seemed as though she was repeating something under her breath, her gaze out in the dark around you and absent like she’d retreated within her own mind.

Her words were loud enough for you to notice she was saying something, but not enough to understand it.

You froze at the scene, unsure if you should hear her out, reassure her or step on the gas. It was obvious what you should do, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to.

So she made you do it herself.

“I don’t want to go back!” She yelled over the engine, and grabbed onto your arm.

You let go of the key, her fingers tightening around your forearm as her eyes looked for yours.

“I don’t want to go back.” She repeated, her voice barely a whisper.

Your eyebrows furrowed, something you could only feel as your body reacted to her once more. You didn’t know what hurt more; seeing the tears pool in her eyes as she struggled to hold them back or her nails digging though the fabric and into your skin.

“Please...”

You couldn’t answer as something on her hand distracted you from the pain. Something shiny. A glimmer on her ring finger—most likely diamonds. Might as well have been rocks; it held no value in that so called promise between her and that man. At the least it didn’t for one of them.

You looked back at the bearer, your jaw tense as you thought. Your mind flashed back to mere moments ago. Why was she still wearing it? She had no right to. Not after leaving such betrayal on your lips.

“Then take it off.” You spoke up, your voice hoarse as if you’d been yelling for liberation.

Her mind was shaken, desperate to see through eyes that looked so unfamiliar now.

Your gaze was stern. It all looked blurry, as if you’d built a wall in front of what she had access to just moments ago…

“What?”

“The ring, Sana. Take it off.”

She barely glanced down at her own hand before looking back at you. The chuckle tasted bitter on your tongue.

“You can’t even face it.”

“That’s all I’ve been telling you.” She let out a defeated sob. “Why don’t you just do it for me?”

You looked back down at her hand, and her gaze followed yours to land there as well. She hated the sight of it. It felt as though it had been there forever.

All she dreamed about was taking it off.

All you had to do was take it off.

So you did, and finally slipped the ring off her finger, holding it between two of your own.

She mindlessly watched as your thumb and index rolled it around to observe it above the steering wheel. All that pain. All that torment. All because of a single, shiny metal ring.

“Doesn’t it feel lighter?” You spoke in an attempt to pull her out of her own mind. The last thing she needed was to get lost in it.

“I…” She trailed off, looking down at her hand, and finally seeing her finger naked in what felt like a lifetime. “It does.”

You trapped the jewel inside your fist, sighing as you leaned back against the back of your seat.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well…” Your hand found the commands of the automatic windows, pushing the button to roll yours down. “Whatever you do, you take care of yourself.”

Most people would have asked what the hell you were doing. If that ring didn’t hold any sentimental value, financially, it still held its own.

Not Sana, though. She didn’t seem phased by your action as she watched it land who knows where.

“Wait…” She trailed off, rewinding your words. “Are you not going to stick around?”

“I did all I could, Sana.” You started, your eyes focused out the open window as a breeze helped to dry off the tears before they even formed. “I kept my word and helped you. I took it off. But you’re gonna need to face him yourself.”

“But I can’t do it alone—“

“You have to.” You snapped, turning back to look at her. You ignored her lips parted in surprise, and continued. “If what I’ve learned about you in this short time is true, it’s the only way you’ll ever be free.”

“What have you learned?”

“Nothing.” You scoffed. “That’s why you have to do it. You’re the only one who actually knows how to deal with this. I can be by your side all you want, but I’ll never be any help. No one ever will.”

Your rant caused a small sob to escape her lips, and she ignored your surprise when she reached for your hand. You could only let her again, allowing yourself to relish in her touch and find pleasure in your body’s reactions to it.

You looked down at your joined hands, watching her intertwine them. You found yourself responding to her touch, your fingers closing around hers.

“Then at least stay.”

You softly caressed the top of her thumb, giving yourself some time to actually think before agreeing this time.

“On one condition.” You said, finding her eyes.

“What is it?”

You glanced down at your tangled hands.

It was an insane thing to look at. To feel. It didn’t make any sense. You’d only met her three days ago. You’d only spent an afternoon, part of an evening with her.

Yet so much happened. So much was felt.

You blinked, and her hand was still in yours. It felt good. But it lacked warmth.

It was telling.

At that moment in time, deep down, you knew this wouldn’t last.

Maybe you’ll part ways right after she’d break the engagement off. Maybe you’ll date and break up once you realise it was all comfort and reassurance disguising as love and affection. Maybe she won’t even break the engagement off.

Whatever the reason, you knew you wouldn’t see her at your wedding.

So you had to make one last thing clear.

“I keep the moonflowers.”

#twice x reader #sana x reader #sana imagines #twice imagines #twice sana #minatozaki sana

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slocumjoe · 5 months

Note

What do you think the companions opinions of ghosts and supernatural things are?

You know, I've actually done this before, years back!

Looking back on it now, I have some differing ideas, having spent more time really thinking these dudes over and writing about them. So,

COMPANIONS AND SPIRITUALITY 2; ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

Cait; Surprises herself when she realizes this, but she believes in God. Not just agnostic, she believes in the Christian God. It never occurred to her until one day, when she caught herself and realizes that this was the belief she held. Her parents weren't religious, so it didn't make any damn sense to her. She just sorta defaulted to it. Obviously, Cait is not religious, but yeah, she kinda assumed a Christian mindset. Just never cared. Once she catches herself, becomes staunch atheist, but that shift was sudden and kind of wobbly. Its a "Wait, what do I actually believe in?" moment. As for cryptids, no. Maybe ones before the war. But as for the post apocalypse, anything is possible, so, why bother with trying to make it all mysterious?

Curie; Avid hater of cryptids and Aliens, but fascinated by religion. You ask her for her opinions on the topic, and she'll break off into a sociological discussion of the nature of religion and faith, and what's she's noticed in the apocalyptic modern era. You ask her if she believes in religion, and you can see her eyes go all blue screen of death, Ms. Nanny body or no. For one, the Ms. Nanny programming would never allow her to form an opinion on that. For two, the programming also kind of held everything in place. In a synth form, where her brain is looking for her own answer, but her instinct/programming remnant is looking for coded-in pre-recorded responses...it's a good way to send her into a kind of crisis. The move from metal to meat doesn’t do her any favors, here.

Danse; A loose agnostic. He sees no need to argue about it, but he doesn't believe, but he also doesn't...disagree? Danse's stance here is "we'll never know so what's the point." He tried religion, and he'll pray in...dire circumstances...but if you ask, he'll call himself an atheist. He'll also go into the sociology and go all nerd on you, but where Curie almost physically can't have an opinion, Danse doesn't have one and doesn't feel the need for one. If he needs God to be real, he'll hope for it. Otherwise, nah.

Deacon; would fuck with Buddhism. Would be that annoying dude at the Whole Foods check out buying hummus who holds the cashier at obligation-point to talk about karma. Normally this would be a Deaconism, an inside joke. Not here. This is a genuine Deacon. He'd also be very interested in all religions, but Buddhism is the one he's most likely to consider, if not partake in. Aliens and cryptids? Uh...Deacon likes to have fun, so yeah, but he's probably not a hardcore believer. He's just being a silly goose. Will double down and go full tinfoil hat to be obnoxious, but doesn't really put stock in it.

Gage; nah and nah. He was raised catholic and it didn't take. Or, maybe it took too well, or in the wrong way, depending on your perspective. He still privately considers Sunday to be special, but he doesn't act on it. Cryptids, also nah. Same reason as Cait. Have you seen what radiation does to animals? To people? Why the fuck would anything be surprising? "There was a giant moth the size of a man on my house!" Shit, that means the runoff from the nuclear power plant from up north has reached the watering holes. "I saw a large, hairy man!" That was probably Gage himself. Fuck sake. "There was a man with a goat head!" Thats a Pack member, which is arguably worse than what you think you saw.

Hancock; Religious in the traumatized way. The begging for God to kill you if you deserve to die but nothing happens, so clearly death is too good for you, kind of religious. Hancock has mental breakdowns in churchs, screaming at the remains of the cross in the middle of the burnt pews. Hancock is religous when thematically appropriate and suitably unhinged. Cryptids, he likes the fun of it, but seriously, if Hancock starts mentioning God and crucifixion, you need to check on him.

MacCready; Hardcore no on the religion, hardcore yes on the cryptids. This man would have Bigfoot bumper stickers. He would be on the reddit threads. I don't even know what to write here. Do I need to justify? You know. You know MacCready is a Bigfoot truther. Aliens? Don't talk to Bob about aliens. He'll hold you hostage in a story about the time he went camping up in [insert North Eastern Forest Here] and definitely saw [insert North Eastern Alien of Cultural Importance Here]. This man would go ghost busting.

Nick; religious, but like, very low key about it. He's not a praying man, but he does think the Big Man Upstairs exists. Mostly because there's so many times in his life where he's certain someone is laughing at him, and whatever dumb situation he's gotten himself into now. Does go to church every so often, and steps lighter in the ruins he finds. Aliens? Nope. Cryptids? Nope. Ghosts? Yeah, absolutely. He doesn't buy into those haunted house attractions, but he believes in the afterlife, and that some folks might get lost on their way there.

Piper; no religion. No aliens. No cryptids. Hard facts or fuck off. At least, thats what she says. But the moment something rattles in the basement at 2 in the morning? Piper is superstitious. She doesn't believe, but she's not gonna play chicken with demonic possession or alien abduction. Now, she has some ghost stories, but she doesn't think they're ghost stories. "Yeah, turned out the person I'd been talking to was legally dead for 30 years. Kinda weird." "Piper." "Say its a ghost and I'm throwing my drink at you. Who doesn't fake their death every once in a while?"

Preston; raised religious but didn't take. It's not that he believes in ghosts, it's that Preston has a good head on his shoulders. This man Knows when Something Is Wrong. Preston might not have the highest PER, but he knows when to get the fuck out of somewhere. Aliens, cryptids, whatever. Preston doesn't even know if ghosts are real. He just knows that some places don't forget what happened to them. If you're ever in a weird location, use him as a "back in the car right fucking now" meter.

X6-88; no religion, aliens, or cryptids, whatever. However. Very prone to believing tall tales. Myths. Legends. Mothman? Genuinely thought that was just a species of moth. He thinks they're bullshit, provided the info is being provided with air of literalness. If you open with "yeah, there's this story of a giant half man, half moth creature," he knows its a story. If you go, "There's a giant moth from Virginia that eats people", that's just what moths are like. Why would he assume there isn't a carnivorous moth? Gets very, very upset whenever someone pulls one over on him like this. By someone, I mean Deacon. Its always Deacon.

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #nick valentine #x6-88 #piper wright #companions react #robert joseph maccready #porter gage

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