#if everyone's alive. the first thing he does is save his friends the second he does is hug them the third he does is hit them very hard

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt6

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

A/N: okay so the draft did not save itself that's why i made a quick edit and just post this one. I hope you enjoy this

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods

2010, Interlagos

"Honey we have to stop meeting like this" Jenson grins as he opens his hotel room.

Y/N immediately wrapped her arms around the British driver. Media be damned but she was extremely worried about Jenson when she heard what happened. She couldn't stop messaging people to ask him if he was okay or what. Even Mark has been worried when she told him what happened.

"Are you okay? You aren't hurt or anything?" Y/N asked worriedly.

"I'm alive and well"Jenson said, closing the door "maybe a little bruised ego from not being able to compete for the championship"

"Oh championship be damned Jense, you almost got kidnapped"Y/N exclaimed

Jenson could only chuckle. He admits he was a bit spooked by what happened but it is what it is. However, he was extremely grateful that Y/N has been worried enough to check up on him and assures that he is okay.

"Just join me for a little drink and lets talk about our day"Jenson suggested "Wine, beer, whiskey?"

"Beer would be fine" Y/N answered.

For all the times that Jenson have gone drinking with Y/N, he knows that her preference was more on wine. He could never forget it because who else than Y/N orders a wine on a bar or a nightclub.

"Tough day?" Jenson wondered

"Not as bad as being kidnapped" Y/N drinks up.

"Touché"

The two friends conversed for the night. Jenson opened up how it felt for him that he isn't able to extend his championship streak. He was not at all disappointed because he performed well and he just missed it out with this race. Y/N is a good listener and became a good support for Jenson.

"What about you? You are in for the big race on Abu Dhabi"Jenson diverted the attention to the female Webber "The big question is who are you supporting"

"I'm neutral"

Jenson looked at her as if she grew two heads. He shook his head as he took a sip of his beer.

"Oh c'mon your brother might win and you are still neutral about it?" Jenson questioned

"Well if you must know my bestfriend is also competing, Lewis is also competing and Fernando is also there" Y/N stated

Jenson raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He is not blind and he does not fall for the lies that Y/N is not choosing a side because she is friends with everyone competing. Y/N refuses to take a side because of the 'bestfriend.'

"You know its going to be historic, four drivers vying for a championship" Jenson informs "I think this is the first time that this happened"

"A lot of pressure for those wanting to win" Y/N agrees.

"You are feeling it all Y/N?" Jenson asked.

Y/N could just give out a sigh as a response. She knows that she won't be sleeping well with the whole thing happening. Its bound to happen that someone will not be fast enough and lose. Then there is also the possibility that someone will win the race and be crowned as champion.

With everything down the wire, no one could predict what will happen.

"You have to make a choice you know" Jenson reminded "What if Mark wins, what if Sebastian wins?"

"We can't have them both as world champions?" Y/N joked

"Maybe for different seasons"Jenson offered.

It was impossible for either of the driver to secure that. Given how the things are in Red Bull. They will favor whoever brings them the first championship and then place the other as their second driver.

"Y/N its just going to be much more difficult after this"Jenson straightforwardness sobered Y/N up a little "You have to stay strong and pick a side"

"I don't want to pick a side Jense, they both deserve a championship"Y/N stays firm "They are both incredible and fantastic drivers. If one of them wins, I'll be happy but I know my heart also aches for the one who misses out that championship"

This was the thing that Jenson admired about Y/N. She is supportive and loyal like that, its quite rare in the field. He gave her a comforting hug as they continue drinking their woes away.

2010, Yas Marina

It was early morning of the qualifying day when Y/N received the email. She was very much surprised upon receiving the email because she had to blink a couple of times to make sure that she is reading it correctly.

From: McLaren Racing

Subject: Job vacancy.

"Oh I am so gonna kill you for this Jense"Y/N muttered.

One of the discussions during their drunk night in Brazil was that the possible solution to Y/N's problem is moving teams. Jenson suggested that there might be some vacant jobs in McLaren before the winter season begins.

And now this conveniently timed email that Y/N has been highly recommended by several employees for the position of Press Officer makes one think that Jenson took that advice seriously.

"Are you decent?" couple of knocks interrupted her "Can I come in?"

"Come on in Mark"

Mark has two cups of coffee in hand. He was already dressed and ready for his paddock appearance. Y/N could just chuckle at the role reversal because usually she was the one who is already dressed while Mark is the one begging for five more minutes to prepare.

"One brown sugar shaken espresso with 3 pumps of toffee nuts"Mark recited proudly.

"You remembered?"

Y/N was in glee as she takes in the cup of coffee. It was a kind of morning that really needs a coffee to help her throughout the day.

"No one drinks coffee as sugary like that, only you" Mark snickers.

"I just like my coffee sweet"Y/N defends.

Mark ends up sitting at one of the chairs. Y/N could read how his expression is a mix of confidence but deep down there is some kind of worry that he is trying to hide. It must be the championship nerves getting the best of him.

"You nervous?"Y/N asked her older brother.

"Its my only chance for a championship. It feels different" Mark answered.

Y/N wanted to say that its not true and there will be plenty of more chances in the start of a new season. However,she knew that this is the closest shot that Mark has to the championship ever since he entered Formula 1.

"I spoke to Sebastian last night" Mark brought it up.

The younger Webber immediately looked up with wide eyes. She knew that the two haven't been in speaking terms except when they have to or forced to talk with each other.

"We talked about you" Mark expanded.

"Me? Why am I even brought up into the conversation?"she was confused.

"Same question but it was Sebastian that first approached me" Mark explained "He talked about how win or lose, we should not put you into a bad spot because you are both important to us"

There Sebastian goes again making her heart skip a beat. Its these little things that mainly causes her to feel deeper and deeper for the German driver. Y/N felt really touched that despite the intense rivalry, he still cares.

"And I know I thought about it all night how I'm really making things difficult for you. So thanks for sticking up with me and I'll try to be much more easier to handle" Mark concludes.

"Oh brother" was all Y/N could say before hugging him.

It felt nice for the both of them that they have each other in the sports. Its the same reason why Y/N cannot answer the offer of Jenson to move into McLaren. If she leaves then how could she be there for her brother?

"Seb really cares a lot about you"Mark informs.

"He is just being a good....bestfriend" Y/N rebutted but she seems unconvinced with her own answer.

Mark knew that Sebastian has a big sense of pride. But whenever, Y/N comes to the picture then he will immediately melt. Mark could only chuckle because Y/N has no clue of the chokehold he has over Sebastian.

"Oh I think you are thinking too little about yourself"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Y/N wondered

It was not Mark's business to play cupid. If Sebastian had the balls then he would have asked her without his help. He just gave a grin as he exited the room.

"Don't be late"Mark teased

"MARK WHAT DOES IT MEAN?"

Meanwhile, Sebastian is early to arrive at the paddock to avoid the media asking plenty of questions. He wanted to be stress-free today since he needs to put all his focus to this race because this is his chance to win the championship. He will be damned if he lets this slip by.

At the moment, he is sitting at the cafeteria which seems to be deserted by the crowd. He was enjoying his peaceful breakfast when a man in orange sat next to him.

"How are you feeling buddy?" Jenson asked too energetically for Sebastian's opinion.

"For a man no longer fighting for the championship, you seem more excited than me" Sebastian joked.

"Oh don't tell me you are nervous" Jenson teased "The Sebastian Vettel is nervous?"

Sebastian rarely gets nervous but this is one of those instances that he really feels the nerves getting the best of him. He finds it really out of his character. There is this heavy feeling in his chest that he may emerge victorious or a complete failure after this race.

"Don't tell anyone but you have my vote of confidence" Jenson whispered.

It was a bit of a boost to hear it from the 2009 World Champion, Sebastian gave him a quick hug which Jenson accepts. It was due to this closeness that Jenson noticed the silver necklace hanging on his neck.

A mischievous grin replaced Jenson's face as he knows there was only one person in this paddock that has that necklace.

"That's Y/N, isn't it?" Jenson snickers.

Just like that, the feeling of embarrassment spread in Sebastian's face. He was not embarrassed by the gift but rather he feels a little shy about anyone seeing his little lucky charm. He tucks it inside safely inside of his shirt.

"It is" Sebastian answered,playing it cool "How did you know?"

Knowing the dating history of Y/N and Jenson, he can feel a little green monster forming at his shoulders. Jenson must have been well-acquainted with Y/N that he paid close attention to notice details such as her necklace.

"Mate, when are you going to ask her out? It's been ages" Jenson asked.

"Excuse me?"

Sebastian was not expecting that. He immediately downed a water to hide his surprise.

"Don't tell me you still haven't made a move even after everything?"Jenson asked.

Jenson knew that Sebastian was someone very dear to Y/N. He had spent enough time with Y/N o figure out that its always the Webber family, Sebastian Vettel, Red Bull, then everyone else. That was how the list of priority of Y/N goes.

"She doesn't like me like that" Sebastian lies even though everything from that drunk confession still replays in Sebastian's head.

"You know what, if you win the championship then go and ask her out" Jenson challenged.

"Now you are putting even more pressure on me"

"C'mon now!" Jenson was exasperated "I'm not even accepting any cash prizes, just name your first child after me for being a good wingman"

"I'm gonna ignore you now Button" Sebastian's nonchalantly ended the conversation.

"Sebastian you can win the championship and the girl!" Jenson convincingly shouts.

Sebastian just gives him a shrug as he continues to eat. He smiles at the thought that maybe he will try Jenson's advice.

Victorious Vettel and a missing team mate.

Congratulations to the amazing drive of Sebastian Vettel which made him victorious from the four-way championship. He also boast two records with one being the youngest WDC champion and the other being Red Bull's first driver champion.

While celebrations are happening, it was evident that there was the absence of the Webber siblings. Mark Webber was seen congratulating Vettel the minute that they stepped out of the car. However, Mark wasn't seen after that and even in the parties. Also absent was Y/N Webber, dubbed as Sebastian's bestfriend. She was spotted in the Red Bull garage but she was absent as well during the celebrations.

Is there trouble brewing with the Webbers against the new world champion?

Seb: Hey, where are you? I have been looking for you everywhere Seb: Y/N are you there? sent by 8pm Seb: I'm going to the club with the team. I hope to see you there sent by 9:34 pm Y/N: Hi Seb! Congratulations with your WDC!! You know that I always believed that you will be a champion one day! I'm really really so happy and so proud of you. Y/N: I'm really sorry if I couldn't be there. I fainted around lap 45 but not to worry, its just my sugar levels. My phone went dead last night and I wasn't able to reply and congratulate right away. I'm really sorry. sent by 11:22 am Seb: Hey, I'm glad to hear you are okay. I just woke up from a massive hangover. I wish you have seen the party Seb: BTW, I have something to tell. Are you still at the hotel? sent by 2:06 pm Y/N: Oh, me and Mark took an early flight back to Melbourne. Parents were a bit worried. sent by 5:44 pm Seb: Okay see you. Y/N: What do you mean see you???? Seb: :)))))))))))))))))

It might be the high from winning the championship or maybe its the alcohol in his system but Sebastian was sure of his decisions.

Clothes are haphazardly thrown into the luggage while he conducts a quick sweep of the essentials he might need. He sent a quick text to everyone that might be needing him. As far as he knows, he has some time off before resuming with his media duties and such.

He is going to Australia.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel angst #sebastian vettel fluff

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof - Alternative Ending

Summary: Starts immediately after Chapter 5 where you unwittingly sacrificed yourself to keep Wanda alive.

Word count: 5k+ | Tags: Angst and character death(s) | Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Author's Note: This was suggested by @dogsandlife, and I'm super glad for it because I was already toying with this idea. I just couldn't bring myself to hurt most of you so I went ahead with the other plot. But for my angst-loving readers, I hope you enjoy this alternative ending :)

Series Masterlist

-

The compound is anything but quiet. 

One can hear hushed whispers, the shuffling of feet, and the distant drones of machines. It's not loud, but there's a heavy feeling in the air. Grief. Everyone's dealing with the recent destruction—surgeries, reports, nights where sleep just didn’t come. Death. 

Today's supposed to help them find some closure, but it's obvious a lot of them aren't there yet.

Steve stands at Wanda's door, fist raised. He hesitates, almost knocking a few times, but eventually just taps softly with his knuckle on the wooden panel. “Wanda?” he asks, trying to sound as normal as possible.

Nothing.

She hasn't been seen since the first night they arrived at the other base, where Wanda went straight to the room she was assigned to. The only clue that she's still managing is that Vision leaves food outside her door every day, and when he returns later in the day, most of it remains untouched, but he can tell Wanda has taken at least a bite or two. 

It’s far from the ideal diet of an Avenger, which leaves Wanda being indisposed in the meantime; though the rest of the team was successful in neutralizing and the people who masterminded the attack on the compound two weeks ago. 

Out of concern for how she might react, especially given how deeply your loss affected her, the team has kept this news from Wanda. They want to ensure the prisoners are safely relocated to a hard-to-track location before she learns of it. There's a shared apprehension that if Wanda discovers this prematurely, she might take matters into her own hands.

Steve senses that Wanda might already be aware, and her chilling silence may not just be due to grief. Part of it could stem from her resentment towards the team for withholding the information, preventing her from seeking the second thing she desires most after having you back—revenge.

(What Wanda yearns for the most is your return, but that's a reality no longer possible in this universe.)

Despite this, Steve pushes on, “The ceremony's about to start. Everyone's waiting. We don’t want to start without you. They were important to all of us, but I get that they were even more to you.”

The stillness from the other side of the door is almost suffocating.

Steve’s voice becomes impossibly softer as he tries again, “Wanda, I can't imagine how you feel right now. But we're here for you. We're family, remember?”

Steve strains his ears, hoping to catch the faintest whisper from Wanda, but the only sound that meets him is the steady hum of the central air conditioning. Time drags on awkwardly, and just when Steve is about to leave, a faint, broken voice emerges from the room. 

“They're gone, Steve.”

Swallowing hard, Steve nods, voice thick. “I know, Wanda. I know.”

He does know. Perhaps more than anyone on the team, save for Natasha. He's experienced profound losses throughout his life: his best friend, the woman he loved, even time and an entire era.

He wants to impart all of these to Wanda, but he’s afraid of invalidating the pain that Wanda’s feeling right now. 

And so, a brief, quiet moment passes between them before Steve rejoins the others.

-

The scene is chaos—the aftermath of unimaginable power unchecked.

Dust fills the air, and broken debris is scattered everywhere. The once-familiar corridors of the team's quarters are now unrecognizable. Everything is obliterated. The structure has been reduced to fine dust, making it impossible to discern that the remnants were once beds or lamps. Not even sound escaped her wrath.

The others soon rush in, Steve, Natasha, and Sam at the forefront. The sight that greets them is unlike anything they’ve ever seen before. Everything is utterly pulverized, and at the epicenter is Wanda, holding your limp body close to her.

For a moment, the scene before them leaves them at a loss for words, until Steve's gaze locks onto you, covered in blood with your arms hanging lifelessly. Steve radios the others, quickly outlining the situation. He struggles to describe it without revealing the full extent of Wanda’s powers, of which they were previously unaware.

Sam surveys the area for potential threats. “All clear!” he announces, not realizing the hidden danger masked by the visage of a mourning ally. Steve, however, spots it immediately from a distance.

The situation isn't volatile due to enemies nearby.

It's volatile because of Wanda.

“Wanda, what happened?” Natasha ventures, attempting to cut through the escalating tension. Yet Wanda's eyes stay locked on you, murmuring unintelligibly under her breath.

“Wanda!” Natasha's voice sharpens with alarm. “Snap out of it!”

But Wanda refuses to budge, ensnared in her own maelstrom of anguish and remorse. As her hands begin to glow with a familiar red hue, she whispers, her lips curling in a crazed half-smile, “I can save you.” 

Recognizing the imminent danger of Wanda's erratic powers, Natasha lunges forward to intervene. “Wanda, no!”

Her plea is met with an almost tangible wave of force. The sheer power from Wanda's emotions sends Natasha hurtling backwards, taking her off her feet. Recognizing both the immediate peril and a fleeting chance, Steve reacts without hesitation. He gathers you into his arms, holding you close to shield you, and makes a break for the Quinjet's safety.

Sam, after a momentary stagger, hurries over to Natasha's side. He extends a hand, helping her to rise. Together, they turn their attention back to Wanda, eyes fixed as they witness the raw display of her struggle, the internal battle to regain control over her formidable powers. Eventually, as if a storm subsides, Wanda's energy recedes. She collapses, emotionally and physically spent. Her eyes glisten with tears that soon spill over. 

“I—I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry…” Wanda stammers, bringing a hand to her mouth in horror at her actions.

Natasha cautiously approaches, ignoring the lingering pain from her fall. She carefully wraps an arm around Wanda, offering what comfort she can. “It’s okay,” she whispers, trying to sound more confident than she feels.

Sam surveys the scene, taking in the devastation and recognizing that not all of it was the enemy's handiwork. “We can't stay here,” he warns urgently. “We'll have company soon, and not the kind we want.”

Emerging from the Quinjet, Steve's motions for them to hurry. “Let’s go. Y/N needs help. Now.”

Natasha quickly takes in Wanda's dazed state and knows she needs to act. “Come on, we need to move,” she says, gently guiding her friend by the arm toward the jet.

As they get closer, Natasha throws a glance over her shoulder at Sam. “You coming?”

He hesitates, scanning the area. “I'm staying. Someone's got to help out here.”

She looks like she wants to argue, but with everything going on, she just nods, helping Wanda up the ramp. As the jet's engines ignite and they ascend, Sam's focus shifts back to the ground, the sheer magnitude of Wanda's episode hitting him. A distance away, he spots a few incinerated bodies, possibly caught in the sphere of Wanda’s wrath. Walking cautiously among the fallen, a chilling realization dawns on him: he can't tell who was with them and who was against. Allies and enemies, all indistinguishably mixed in the wake of Wanda's powers.

He feels a knot in his stomach. “Oh, Wanda,” he murmurs to himself, “what happened here?”

-

Though the clear skies suggest fair weather, the ceremony feels grim, leaving behind an eerie atmosphere that steadfastly clings to the hallways and corners you once roamed. All attendees are dressed in their finest black attire, but the pristine garments can't hide the profound sadness of the occasion.

Everyone is present except for a seat in the first row. Every now and then, Steve's eyes would drift toward the entrance, half-hoping, half-dreading that Wanda might walk in. The funeral begins with a brief sermon from a priest, despite no one being certain of your religious beliefs. Yet, it's protocol. It has always been the manner in which they bid farewell to a comrade, so everyone quietly follows suit.

Each of the Avengers, save for Wanda, takes a turn at the podium, sharing humorous and touching stories about you. They all wear the same regret and guilt on their faces, wishing they could have done more, could have treated you better, could have gotten to know you more. The eulogies are largely light in tone, and it's unclear whether it's because they wish to remember you fondly or if their bond with you was merely superficial and insincere.

Except for Daisy, the last person to speak, who seems to be taking it particularly hard. She gets choked up talking about how you took her under your wing, always sharing what you knew and helping her train. And when she needed a place to sleep, you gave her your own bed. She returns to her seat, tears silently streaming, and there's a brief, uneasy moment when no one steps in to comfort her.

They all glance around, seeking out Wanda. Their eyes eventually land on Steve, who simply responds with a solemn shake of his head. 

The entire ceremony lasts just under an hour. As the last notes of the eulogy fade and people start to head out, everyone gradually returns to their routine. For many, it's the last time they'll reflect or speak about you.

That same night, as Steve is about to wind down in his office, lost in thought, Vision phases through the wall. There's a resigned expression on Vision's face, momentarily making Steve forget that he isn't human. Reflecting later, Steve appreciates how Vision's virtue and outlook are more human-like than many individuals he's encountered throughout his life.

“Captain Rogers,” he starts, “Wanda has…chosen to sequester herself in Y/N's former cell.”

Steve looks up sharply, a crease forming on his brow. “Why would she do that?” 

He had anticipated something like this might occur, but he's baffled as to why Wanda would choose your old cell over your bedroom, where all your belongings still remain.

“I can't say I fully grasp the intricacies of the human heart, but maybe she's looking for a connection or a spot to grieve. Y/N’s room, with all its memories, might just be too overwhelming for her,” Vision offers, seemingly reading Steve's thoughts.

Hearing this, Steve glances at the approval document he must sign, allowing the compound's admin office to begin clearing out your bedroom. He's been putting off signing it, thinking Wanda might need more time with your belongings around. But now he wonders if erasing traces of you might help her come to terms with the loss.

Steve considers Vision’s words for a moment before nodding slowly. “Thanks, Vision. I'll go see her.”

-

Wanda is glued to your side, her fingers so tightly interwoven with yours that it's hard to tell where one hand ends and the other begins. Every now and then, she gently squeezes, perhaps hoping to feel a reassuring squeeze back. Her face is contorted, every line etched deep with raw pain, her eyes wet and reddened from endless tears. She looks at your hand, pale and devoid of its usual warmth, resting lifelessly in her grip.

But it's the faint, almost timid pulsation under her touch that keeps her from completely breaking down. Each breath you take is slow and labored, barely noticeable. But the quiet beep of the monitors serves as a constant reminder that there's still life within you. From time to time, she leans in, pressing her ear close to your chest, cherishing the gentle thud of your heartbeat, willing you to hold on just a little longer.

A while later, a group of nurses and doctors rush in, ready to prep you for surgery. Their hands move with purpose, reaching for various instruments and adjusting the array of machines beside your bed. That’s when, as if propelled by an invisible force, equipment flies off tables, and a few of the medical staff are pushed back against the walls. A nurse, caught off-guard, drops a syringe, its contents spilling onto the pristine floor. 

Natasha, having been alerted by the commotion, slips into the room, swiftly placing herself between Wanda and the medical staff.

“Wanda,” she implores cautiously, her eyes seeking the sorceress's, “let them do their job. He needs them.”

For a moment, it seems like she might snap, but then her gaze drops to the floor, tears spilling. As soon as they feel it’s safe, the medical staff decide that they need to move you immediately. The wheels of your bed squeak in protest as they begin to shift it out of the room.

Wanda's grip tightens on your hand, her knuckles white. She tries to follow, as if an invisible cord binds her to you. She mutters, almost inaudibly, “I won't leave them.”

One of the nurses, recognizing the precarious situation and the potential for Wanda's powers to erupt again, glances around hesitantly. They're all clearly apprehensive about telling Wanda she can't accompany you. It’s just in time that Steve finally arrives, quickly taking in the scene before him.

“Kid, it’s okay,” he murmurs quietly.

She turns to him, her eyes a storm of emotion, as she pleads, “No, it’s not. I need to be with them.”

“It’s not,” he confirms, offering her a sympathetic look. “But right now, they need to do their job. We have to trust them.”

But her grip on your hand doesn't loosen.

With a deep breath, Steve gently pries her fingers away from yours. It's a slow, agonizing process, each finger unlocking a fresh wave of sobs from Wanda. She resists, but Steve’s reassuring grip gives her no choice. Finally, as your hand slips away from hers, the reality of the situation hits anew.

As the medical team wheels you out of the room, Wanda collapses into Steve's arms, her cries a haunting sound in the tenebrous hallways of the hospital.

The long hours of surgery find Wanda staring into the void, her eyes wavering yet alert, even as exhaustion begins to bear down on her. A few feet away, a wall clock ticks on, displaying the agonizingly slow passage of time. She's acutely aware of each second, each minute, as they stretch into what feels like eons. Occasionally, her fingers would twitch, itching to do something, anything, to change the course of events. But they remain clenched in her lap, her knuckles white from the pressure.

Wanda isn't accustomed to the drawn-out dread of potentially losing someone. Her parents were taken away in an instant. Pietro saved Clint in a split-second, paying with his life. So, when the surgeon finally emerges, the expression on his face already giving away the news, Wanda can't stand it. She bolts.

Outside, the cold night air hits her, but she hardly feels it. Her feet carry her to a secluded spot in the hospital's garden, where the shadows from the trees envelope her. She sinks to the ground, her hands digging into the grass, seeking some form of grounding.

The rest of the team, still in the waiting room, exchange worried glances. Steve takes a step forward, as if to follow, but Natasha places a gentle hand on his arm.

“She needs a minute,” Natasha says quietly.

While they give Wanda time to process, the surgeon starts explaining the details, the clinical terms merging with the reality of what happened. The Avengers might face world-ending threats on a daily basis, but this personal loss, this kind of pain, hits different.

Little do they know that in the distance, Wanda's grief is causing ripples that are about to change everything.

-

Making his way through the maze of hallways, Steve's steps slow as he approaches the familiar penitentiary. He nears the familiar cell door, taking a moment to brace himself before nudging it open just slightly.

Inside, the room is dim, with just a small lamp fighting off the darkness. It's chilly, the sort of cold that seems to seep into your bones. There, on the simple bed, is Wanda, curled up and looking so small and vulnerable. Pushing the door open just a touch more, Steve walks in silently and sits beside Wanda. He doesn't say anything, instead he allows Wanda to acclimatize to his presence, to give her space and time to figure out that she’s not alone in this, never was.

After what seems like an eternity, Wanda, without looking at Steve, simply murmurs, “It's cold here.”

Steve just nods, at a loss for words. He takes off his jacket, trying to wrap it around her shoulders for comfort. But Wanda pushes it away, letting it drop to the ground. Steve clenches his jaw, recognizing that right now, reasoning with Wanda might be impossible.

Several beats pass before Wanda finally speaks up. “It should have been me,” she says, her voice as steely as the temperature of the room. “I should be the one in that grave.”

“Don't say that,” Steve insists, carefully placing a hand on her tense shoulder. “You couldn't have known.”

Wanda's eyes blaze with anger and sorrow. “I allowed it, Steve. I allowed Y/N to help me, to heal me. I let them drain their life to give to me.” Her voice wavers, and she trembles visibly. Steve can feel warmth where he's holding her but trusts that she won't lose control. “If Y/N hadn't found me, I'd be as good as dead. But now... they're gone, and I'm here.”

“Wanda, look at me,” he mutters, placing another hand on her other shoulder and twisting her gently so she can properly face him. His blue eyes seek out hers but she refuses to meet his gaze, eyes transfixed on the floor, lost and empty. “We make choices everyday. Choices that we think are for the best. You couldn't have predicted this outcome. None of us could.”

She angles her head, strands of hair partially covering her face, but one eye peeks through with a dangerous glint. “I let them step into danger, more than once. So try and tell me it's not on me.”

Steve, visibly unsettled, takes a ragged breath. “Wanda, I know it’s hard to understand now, to accept that what happened to Y/N is beyond your control. But we're all here for you, and if you need—”

“I don't want or need your help, Steve,” she retorts with an icy edge. “What I need is to be alone.”

Seeing the resolute, almost manic determination in her eyes, Steve hesitates before nodding slowly. “Alright,” he says.

“But remember this, Wanda,” Steve says, pausing at the threshold of the cell, a deep sadness in his eyes. “Y/N wouldn't want you to be alone, especially not like this.”

Wanda's lips twitch into a bitter smile. “What Y/N wanted doesn't matter now, does it? They're gone.”

Steve doesn't say anything else. He gives Wanda a long look, then walks out.

-

The pain is worse when she dreams.

In one of them, she relives a reality from before. She's transported back to a familiar morning. She remembers waking up in your room, the warmth of the sheets reminding her of the night before. Trying to push away her burgeoning feelings for you, she recalls inviting a stranger into her room, sharing some wine. But as he got closer, she pushed him away, realizing he wasn't what she truly wanted.

In her dream, she does things differently. Instead of slipping away like she did in reality, she lingers. She takes the time to study every detail of your face as you sleep—the freckles on your nose, the subtle movement of your lips as you mumble incoherent dreams, the occasional twitch of your eyelids. She gives in to an urge she had suppressed for the longest time, wrapping her arms around your waist, drawing you close. 

After what feels like hours, you stir. When you open your eyes, there's a brief moment of surprise before your lips curve into a soft, genuine smile, happy to see she's still there. Your fingers reach up, gently caressing her cheek. She leans into it, eyes closing for a moment as she takes in the sensation. “You stayed,” you murmur, your voice soft and filled with wonder.

Just as she's on the verge of promising to always stay by your side, Wanda jolts awake. Her smile fades the instant she grasps that it was all an illusion, a fleeting could-have-been.

The knife in her chest buries itself a little deeper after that. It does so again the following morning when she dreams of another memory, and in every version, she doesn't turn away from you.

- 

One day, a woman approaches Wanda, offering to help her uncover the secret to inhabiting her dreams.

“Not merely dreams,” the woman clarifies, “but alternate realities.” Her name is Agatha, and she persuades Wanda that these realities are rightfully hers, waiting for her to claim them. Desperate for a way to be with you again, even if it's in another reality, Wanda listens intently.

“Each reality is like a page in a book. Some might be nearly identical to yours, with just a slight deviation. Others could be drastically different. The key is knowing how to navigate and control them,” Agatha explains.

"How?" Wanda questions, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket, walking alongside Agatha on a nondescript street in Westview, New Jersey. She'd made her way there upon discovering you'd purchased property, curious to envision the life you'd planned for yourself, had you lived.

“It's not as simple as snapping one's fingers,” Agatha says. “But with the right guidance and knowledge, you can access these realities, live in them, even mold them to your desires.”

Wanda hesitates, sensing the potential dangers of meddling with the fabric of existence. “What's the price?” she asks. 

Agatha doesn't look too pleased with Wanda's display of intelligence and her knack for spotting the early signs of manipulation. But she gets the feeling that Wanda might not care if she's being used, as long as she gets what she wants out of it.

“Every powerful spell comes with its costs,” Agatha replies cryptically. “But isn't a chance to be with Y/N, to have a life where grief doesn't consume you, worth any price?”

Living day to day, clutching onto moments of happiness in her dreams, only to be jerked back into a reality she can't stand—it's wearing on Wanda. The dreams are great, sure, but they're just that—dreams. And when they're over, it's back to the harsh light of day, and the reality that you’re gone. She's stuck in this loop, bouncing between what she wishes her life could be and the real world that just won't let her catch a break. Every dream feels like a tease, a brief escape before she's pulled back into the grind.

“So? I don’t have all day, dear.” Agatha's tone is dripping with impatience, her sharp eyes fixed on Wanda.

Wanda swallows hard, her gaze darting around the empty street, as if cautious to anyone who might be eavesdropping on the conversation, before settling back on the older witch. “What do you want in return?”

A slow, sly smile spreads across Agatha's face, making the air around her grow even colder. She takes a deliberate step closer to Wanda, their faces now mere inches apart. “You’re a sly witch than I made you out to be, aren’t you?”

Wanda holds her ground. “I need to know.”

Agatha chuckles softly, her breath caressing Wanda's face. “We'll get to that,” she purrs, drawing the moment out just to relish Wanda's discomfort. She then leans in even closer, her voice dropping to a hushed, almost seductive whisper. “First, let's talk about how we can make your dreams come true.”

Wanda hesitates, torn between the desperation of her desires and the voice in her head urging her to decline the offer, to grieve and move forward like anyone else would.

To forget you.

“And why would I trust you?” Wanda counters instead, buying herself more time.

Agatha straightens up, her smile unwavering as she finally takes a step back. “Oh, darling, you shouldn’t. But sometimes, our wants make strange bedfellows. And right now, I'm the best chance you've got.”

-

Wanda's footsteps are hesitant as she approaches the rubble-strewn site, each broken brick and twisted piece of metal echoing memories of that fateful day. The boundaries between realities have always been thin for Wanda, a mere whisper away. And on the 436th day since your sacrifice, she finally musters the courage to cross them.

Witnessing it all from this vantage point—that of an observer—feels utterly surreal.

She remembers the pain, the slow dimming of consciousness, and the sensation of life slipping away. But in this reality, it was her other self who had been impaled, left to bleed out beneath the rubble. And you, who she loved dearly in every universe, had been spared.

Or at least, that’s how she intends it to happen for this reality.

Wanda's fingers twitch, and with a fierce concentration of her magic, she lifts the heavy boulder trapping her other self. A bright crimson glow surrounds it as it's lifted and tossed aside, revealing the horrific sight beneath.

The other Wanda is a haunting reflection of what she might have been, pale with trails of blood smeared across her lips. The fabric of her clothes is stained with the vivid red of her own blood, which pools around her. It's a sight that should send a wave of nausea through Wanda, but truthfully she feels nothing.

Gently, Wanda cradles the injured version of herself, her hands shaking as they brush away the dirt and blood from the other's face. She can't stop herself from checking for a pulse, even though ironically, she’s there to make sure it stops beating.

“Hey,” she murmurs, patting the alternate Wanda's cheek softly, urging her to focus. “Look at me.”

Slowly, those familiar eyes flutter open, clouded with pain. The shock and fear in them are palpable when they take in the sight of her savior—especially the distinct headpiece that marked her transformation into the Scarlet Witch.

“Who... are you?”

“I'm you,” Wanda says, and without waiting for a reply, sparing her other self the pain of speaking, she continues, “Y/N sacrificed so much for you. For us. They became our greatest pain, and our love. And they will be here any minute now.”

“W-What are you talking about—”

“They will be here to save you and make themselves vulnerable in the process. And they will die,” Wanda's breath hitches at that, causing her to pause momentarily. “You don’t want that, do you?”

Her fading counterpart shakes her head, tears streaming down her face.

“Good,” Wanda says, offering a comforting smile. “Then let go, and I’ll take care of Y/N. Okay?”

Without waiting for a response, Wanda turns the body in her embrace into red wisps that dance around her in the air. 

Then, aware that it'll only be moments before you reach the scene, Wanda morphs into the likeness of her younger self. She looks just like the other version, but without any injuries that might spur you into action.

“Wanda!” she hears your voice from a distance and her eyes water at the sound.

She's done the unimaginable, claiming the identity of this universe's Wanda, seconds after she erased her very existence. She takes deep, shaky breaths, trying to get into character. She needs you to believe it’s her, even though she’s forgotten herself how she used to be.

Your steps quicken, shoes crunching on rubble, until you're right in front of her, surveying her from head to toe, searching for any signs of injury. “Wanda...how?” Your eyes are wide, filled with disbelief and relief. “I thought I'd lost you.”

“I managed to shield myself just in time when—” She doesn’t get to finish her practiced response when you pull her into a tight embrace, and she leans into it, her body shaking with genuine sobs. Her face buries into the crook of your neck, feeling the warmth and familiarity of your smell and touch. It's a grounding sensation amidst the madness she has just endured and inflicted.

“It's okay,” you murmur, your voice trembling. “You're here now, and that's all that matters.” You can feel the dampness on your shirt where her tears have soaked through, and you tighten your grip around her.

“We need to get out of here,” you say, casting a glance around the ruins. “Let's find safety first, then we'll figure everything out.”

She nods, taking a deep breath to steady herself, wiping away her tears. “I'm sorry,” Wanda says, her voice catching in her throat.

“For what?” you ask, confused.

“For making you worry,” she says, avoiding your eyes. The guilt she feels is so much deeper than what you perceive, but now isn’t the time to delve into it. 

She only recalls the next moments when the bullets are headed your way minutes later. But this time, they don't touch you. Wanda swiftly neutralizes the assailants, and you stare, a mix of shock and awe at the display of her powers that appear to have been amplified overnight.

You blink, trying to process what you just saw. “Wanda, what was that? I've never seen you...”

“We need to move. Now,” Wanda interrupts, a hint of panic in her voice. She grabs your hand, tugging you forward roughly.

You resist for a moment, glancing around. "Don't we need to wait for the others?"

She glances back at the devastation she caused, her face drawn. "There’s no time. They're not coming.”

“But—”

“Please," she pleads, her eyes darting to the oncoming imaginary threats in the distance. “We'll figure it out once we're safe.”

It’s your weakness, your inability to say no to her, that makes you yield to her wishes. With one last uneasy look around, you let Wanda pull you away, but a slew of questions bubble up in your mind, waiting for a safer moment to be asked.

Wanda leads you somewhere faraway. 

In time, you cease to question her actions.

Gradually, the dreams stop haunting her nights.

But she finds herself unable to stop hunting for them every now and then.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #captain america civil war #the avengers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #vision #daisy johnson

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Maybe this is triggering but can I ask for 9th member x skz but the 9th member is at school in a shooting and skz are worried (I know this can be cringe or triggering so you don't have to do it if you don't want to)

Ride or die

- 9th member

Warning: shootings, angst, crying

Pairing: 9th member x skz

Summary: going to school and thinking you’ll never make it back home alive is scary.

Hey before you guys start to read this, this is a warning about the contents that will be in the story. If you find it uncomfortable please do not read the story.

-🩷

**

It was supposed to be a good day.

It was supposed to be a normal day.

I didn’t think at any moment in time I would be hiding in the janitors closet begging God to spare my life. Spare our life.

I thought these things happened in movies. I thought it was all just some type of glitch in the universe.

Boy was I wrong.

My legs were up against my chest. I could hear I.N’s breathing down my neck as I held him close.

My hand over both his ears as tears run down his face.

The heat of the tiny compartment made our bodies sweat severely and make our head spin in circles. All I could hear were terrifying screams coming from outside the door followed by loud bangs. Loud scary bangs.

Please God, Save us. Is all I was thinking about.

I look in his eyes trying to calm him down without saying a word. My body shaking terribly.

I wanted to go back home so bad.

It was dark in the closet. We were hiding behind some trash cans and the space was barely enough for one person but we had to make it work.

“Breath I.N. Breath.” I whisper to the young boy who was now looking like he was about to pass out.

“I love you,” he whispers making my heart break even more and making me worry even more.

“We’re going to get through this okay? We have too.” I whisper to him and he nods while shutting his eyes.

My phone starts to vibrate in my pockets and his does too. The non stop calls gets me to grab it out of my pocket to see who could possibly be wanting to talk at such a moment.

There couldn’t possibly be any network down here. So how? How were we getting calls?

I look at the name that comes up and see it’s our oldest brother Chan calling. The light of the screen slowly blinding me.

I look over at I.N who shows me his screen with our second oldest brother calling. Leeknow.

We couldn’t risk a phone call right now. Not at all.

“Turn it off.” I whisper to him and he nods quickly putting the phone away.

My hands intertwine with his.

The shots and screams getting louder and louder.

Were our friends going to be okay?

I let out a tiny sob not able to hold it in anymore and silently cry as we sat in the dark closet.

The smell of bleach started to cause a banging headache in my end.

Chan’s Pov:

At first when I saw that the school was calling me, I didn’t know what the problem was. The twins never misbehaved so I just turn it off thinking it wasn’t that serious. ‘I’ll just call them back later’ I thought to myself.

The boys and I were sat in the study room reading for our upcoming exams so automatically everyone was busy in their text books or computers.

I had dropped the twins off earlier and came straight back home in the morning and it was only 12:15 in the afternoon.

The calls kept coming in from all over and when I saw that they weren’t going to give up calling me I picked up.

“Hey this is bangchan I’m really busy-“ I say frustrated but was cut out with a quiet panicked voice.

“Hello sir? This is Yongsan International School and we would like to inform you that the school is currently under lockdown.” A lady says into the phone.

“Lockdown?! What do you mean lockdown?!” I get up from my chair which causes the boys to look at me. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as I start to pace the room.

“I’m very sorry to say that there is a shooting in progress and if you could get down here as fast as possible that would very much be appreciated.”

“How the fuck do you let that happen?” I yell into the phone, “what type of school lets this shit happen?!”

“Channie hyung what’s wrong?” Felix asks worried obviously. I turn to the boys who were now staring at me. Eager to know what’s wrong.

The world goes quiet as I try to form the words to explain to my brothers that their little siblings were currently in a shooting.

Why would someone want to do such a thing to such innocent teenagers?

“T-the school, the twins- their school is apparently has had a shooting.” My phone drops out of my hands as I feel my body almost collapse.

“Hyung oh my God! Sit down please,” Changbin grabs a hold of me and slowly puts me back in my original sit.

“What do you mean the school is under attack?” Han voice books across the room filled with panic. He grabs the tv remote and turns up the news where we see the familiar place with many cop cars outside surrounding it.

“Oh my God,” Felix gasps before pulling out his phone.

“I have to get to Y/n or I.N some way!” I exclaim before grabbing my keys from the counter.

“I-I need to go right now..”

“I’m coming with you hyung. The rest of you try and get in contact with the twins. If they call let us know please.” Leeknow instructs the younger boys.

He was frantic aswell. Even tho leeknow was known as the less emotional brother whenever something went wrong you could tell how affected he was by the situation.

“Guys please be safe, please.” Seungmin tells us before quickly hugging us as we rush out the doors and get into one of the cars.

“Pass me my phone Lee, I’ll call Y/n you call I.N,” I tell him and he quickly gives it to me.

I start blowing up their phones praying that somehow one of them picks up and tells me everything is okay.

“They are going to be okay hyung. I know Y/n she’s strong she’ll protect I.N,” Leeknow says trying to make the situation better.

My chest ached. The constant fear of them getting killed in that school kept crawling up my back and the thought of them being terrified, probably hiding somewhere not sure what to do made me want to throw up.

“If something happens to them I won’t ever forgive my self Leeknow.” My voice quivers as the words leave my mouth.

He looks over at me and rubs my back for assurance.

“Nothing is going to happen to them I promise.” I didn’t even know how he was keeping his shit together right now. How?

The drive wasn’t long because of the way I was speeding. The roads were kind of empty and the weather was very foggy. It had rained in the morning but Seoul weather was always confusing.

“Okay let’s go, let’s go.” I quickly saying getting out the car not trying to slip on the slippery ground.

I look around trying to assess the situation. The school looks so gloomy and children were being wheeled out or were being carried out by people.

Some were frantic others were just quiet. As if in a trance.

The cops were surrounding a specific area. I run towards one of the parents who looked like they just saw a ghost. Her body trembling.

“Leeknow stay here and try and fine them, imll go ask what’s going on.”

“Be safe Chan.”

I quickly nod and run to the First Lady I see. She was wearing a coat and her makeup was smudged from all the crying.

“Excuse ma’am can you tell me what’s going on?” I ask the lady who was clearly not in the right mindset at all.

“They caught the guy but they are so many injured kids, non confirmed deaths yet” she gives me a small smile.

“Thank you,”

I run back to leeknow who’s searching for a sign of I.N or Y/n.

Y/n’s Pov:

I.N and I always were together in ever place and area.

We were always moving in twos. That’s how it worked. I.N and Y/n. How it always worked.

The world was moving in slow motion as me and I.N were holding eachother in the closet.

Being put in a position where you think your life is about to be ended in the most brutal way makes you think back and appreciate the little things. The things that mattered or didn’t.

“A-are they gone? Please tell me they’re gone Y/n,” I.N whispers causing me to snap out of my little trail of thoughts and come back into reality.

“I don’t know baby bread but I really hope so. Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Yeah just out of breath.” He whimpers.

“Shhh it’s okay, just breathe yeah?” He nods in response as we sit there for what felt like hours.

“Do you think Channie is outside waiting for us?”

“Yes I do, I know he is. I feel it.” The little hum that comes out of his mouth makes me believe that he actually believed me.

By the time everything had gone kind of quiet I pull out my phone to see a clock reading “6:35pm”

We had been sat here for 6 hours

No moving no talking just fear and shock.

A loud banging at the door causes us to jump and squeal in fear. Did they find us? Were they going to kill is now?

“This is the police call out of your in there!” A loud voice fills the room.

I.N wraps his hand around my mouth to stop the sobs from escaping.

His tight grip loosening when he hears the man’s voice.

“I-I’m going to check-“

“No you can’t Y/nie that so dangerous, you’ll get yourself killed. Imagine it’s a trap.”

“I.N we have to find a way to know what going on. The service here is horrible” I whisper back at him.

“But y/n-“

“I’ll be okay I’m just peeping through the door I.N trust me.”

“O-okay but if-“

“Nothing will happen, I promise.”

I give him a small nod before crawling to the door and looking through a tiny crack.

I see police officers walking around assessing the place and I see a man standing right outside in uniform.

“Oh thank God.” I whisper. The feelings of relief causing me to cry and sob.

“I.N I think it’s safe, I see police.”

“Are you sure?” He asks hesitantly crawling out of the hiding space.

“Yeah, let me go out first, here hold my stuff.” I hand him my back and phone before opening the door.

“Hey! I found her!” An officer yells causing me to jump in panic.

“Hey I’m not going to hurt you Y/n-“ he softly says reaching out to grab me.

How does he know my name? Why does he know my name?

“How do you know my name?” I ask the man.

“You guys have been hiding for more than 5 hours, we’ve been looking for you and your brother.” He says holding out his hand.

The hallways were empty. No sign of any kids.

“I-is he gone, the shooter?”

“Yes he is love and your older brothers are waiting for you outside,”

“Chan?”

“Yes Chan, where is your brother? Do you think you’ve lost him.”

I shake my head no before returning to the closet and pulling I.N out. His taller figure wrapping me in his arms.

“Hey I.N, I’m officer Chen. These guys are my colleagues. Should we go outside?”

I nod my head eagerly waiting to see my brothers.

“Please let’s go I need to see leeknow or Chan,” I quickly say. I grab my bag and phone from I.N’s hands because he also has to carry his stuff. We follow the cop who was checking in on us making sure we were okay. Never in a million years did I ever think I would find my older brothers in a frantic state. A crying state but that all changed today.

“Chan!” I scream and he looks up. His eyes in disbelief.

“Y/n?! I.N?!” My footsteps start to get quicker before I jump into his arms, I.N doing the same to leeknow.

“My babies oh my God. Are you guys okay? Are you guys hurt? I thought you guys died. My poor babies.”

“We’re okay, we’re okay.” I say tears running down my face. He wipes them with his hands and kisses my forehead. He starts examining me and asking me questions.

“Here you guys must be freezing, take my jacket.” Leeknow hands me his and Chan does the same to I.N.

“Oh baby girl you had be scared there you know?” Leeknow grabs me in his hands and kisses me all over my face.

“Please tell me you’re okay, please.”

“I’m okay leeknow I promise, I’m just happy I’m with you guys.”

“We need to take them to the paramedics to make sure everything is alright and if they are you guys can take them home,” the officer cuts out conversation short.

“Yes yes anything, go ahead.” Chan approves.

The officer nods and leads me and I.N to the ambulance where Chan and leeknow sit close by asking the lady so many questions.

“Yes and that’s it, you guys look good to go.” She looks at us sympathetically before putting away her gloves and turning to Chan and leeknow.

“They need to drink a lot of water and make sure they take in a lot of rest.” She tells Chan and he nods his head noting it down.

“Therapists for such situations should be also be taken very seriously because they are young they need all the help they can get to get over this trauma,” She also tell Chan who continues to ask more questions.

“So we need to get them therapists?”

“Yeah but that’s only if you see a change in their behavior. We don’t want anything bad happening to them mentally.”

“Right right. your right,”

“We’ll give you guys some contacts but right now, I want you to take them home and take care of them, are you there dad?”

“N-no I’m their older brother, our parents died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,”

“It’s okay, thank you tho.”

“You’re welcome and here’s my number,” she winks at Chan which makes him cringe but Chan being a people pleaser, he wanted to be polite so he took it.

“Chan?” I call for him and within seconds his by my side.

“Yes my love,” he says kneeling besides me.

“I love you so much and I love you so much leeknow.” I tell them both and leeknow turns his head away.

He was crying I knew he was and he didn’t want me to see that. I knew it.

“We love you too and you I.N. Should we get you guys home?” He asks while fighting the tears that were so clearly about to fall.

“Yeah.”

**

To the person that requested this: thank you so much for your request I’m about to make a part two if you would like :) cause I have an idea to complete the actual story if you would like!! 🩷.

[pirozhkiparty]

Huskerdust time travel-ish angst au where during the extermination Angel gets killed saving Husk and he dies in front of him. It's a whole emotional affair with husk calling him stupid for throwing himself in the way like that, and Angel laughing while coughing up blood and saying something along the lines of how this loser's time is up so "go give 'em hell for me, whiskers"

After the extermination the two hotel residents are dead and everyone is shaken, having a memorial for them and grieving, but husk takes it the hardest. He knows he only recently started considering the spider his friend, and it feels like a piece of him left.

Afterlife goes on with charlie and the others trying to pick up the pieces with resuming trying to redeem sinners, but husk is filled with grief. Just walking past the vacant room that used to be Angel's hurts his heart, but he still takes it upon himself to take care of Fat Nuggets. Sometimes he even goes into Angel's room, keeps niffty away so she won't try to tidy the mess because it's the only thing that makes it looked lived in and not sterile, as if Angel had packed up and left.

When the next extermination rolls around (waaaaaay sooner this time, as a retaliation from the exocists for Adam's death), husk does not fight with vigor. He knows that throwing away the life that Angel sacrificed himself for is stupid, but he just doesn't have it in him, and as soon as that angelic spear tears through his chest, he accepts it.

Except, when things go dark, similar to when he died the first time, but then it's a wash of colors and haziness until he's....back at the hotel? He's confused, he was just dying a second ago, and there were exorcists swarming for revenge, but now he's back at the bar, being greeted by alastor while the deer demon for some reason is introducing him to everyone. And then he freezes because amongst everyone, Angel is there, the same person who he's been grieving for months, here alive.

It takes only a little disbelief before he comes to terms with the fact that for some reason he's been sent back to his very first day at the hotel. He's stunned beyond belief but there's a bit of catharsis because Angel is here, smiling and flirting and not soaked in blood and fading out of existence. He doesn't know what this is, a second chance or whatever, but he decides to go on like before, except now he's a little nicer to Angel, less judgy, than he was before their heart to heart outside of the bar.

Angel of course takes notice of how the barcat treats him good, so that must mean he wants him or something, so more flirting, less of husk calling him fake, Angel one night saying "why you so sweet on me, huh?" And they have a heart to heart similar to the first time, except afterwards it ends up with Angel kissing husk, and husk is realizing then that this time he's catching feelings for Angel, all the while dreading when extermination day comes but also vowing to fight harder during it.

Idk just something my sleep deprived brain had me puke out, it's up for grabs btw

#huskerdust #hazbin hotel #huskerdust angst

[moltengoldveins]

*vibrating out of my skin* b-bbphhh….. beeduo. But its. It’s the Minotaur. and Theseus. Has someone done this? Please tell me someone has done this. 

Tubbo as a boy trapped in the most technologically advanced maze ever made, learning engineering from the walls meant to contain him, his selfish father (Schlatt) so shamed by his ‘mutations’ he spreads rumors that the boy is a monster, throwing sacrifices to the maze every seven years. Tubbo’s never been able to save them in time. Something savage is in the walls, hunting, and while the maze is built specifically to keep Tubbo alive, it is not so for the foreign prisoners. 

Meanwhile, Ranboo is the prince of an oppressed kingdom, forced to give blood sacrifice every seven years. His father (Phil, not the most common dynamic but roll with it it becomes relevant later) tells stories of the kingdom’s former glory, the glory lost when their most famed general fell to the war, taken and by all accounts killed by Tubbo’s father. Ranboo decides to go on a quest to slay the monster his people are being fed to, and further, to live up to the memory of that lost general and kill the enemy king, freeing his people. He promises to lift white sails if he returns alive, and that his men will lift black ones if he dies. (There’s some Lady of Death symbolism happening here, work with me) Importantly, his father gives him an old token of a ‘lost friend’ before he goes, an emerald on a chain. He says it’s for good luck, and guidance. He seems… really sad about it tho. Hm. Surely that’s not important. 

Niki is the vassal/adopted daughter/ healer?? Of Schlatt, who sneaks out now and then to give Tubbo snacks. The maze likes her, and she is the only one the old warden told its secrets to before he escaped with his son. She cannot navigate the twisted paths like Tubbo, who has spent his entire life walking those halls, but she is protected from whatever is in the walls. She could get Tubbo out, but they’d have nowhere to go, so she waits. Every year, she prays she will find a way to get them out. Every seven, she prays Tubbo will not have to watch any of the prisoners die. 

Ranboo arrives and threatens Schlatt, who only laughs at the boys boldness and throws him into the maze first. (Oddly, while he took every stitch of gold from Ranboo’s neck and hands, he left the earring. He said something about it being ‘fitting. It’ll finally die with its partner’) 

just when Ranboo is about to be thrown in, Niki, who couldn’t bear the thought of such a kind looking kid dying so horribly, sneaks him a sword and a ball of golden thread. “It will guide you when you need it. Sam made it as a last resort.” She whispers, right before the gates close. 

Tubbo, furious at his failure seven years ago to save any of the hostages (he was twelve. There was nothing he could have done.) manages to get to Ranboo just in time to keep the monster away from them both. The maze closes around them and for a moment, it looks as if they’ll fight. Then Tubbo smiles, and Ranboo lowers his sword, and the two of them are friends in seconds. Tubbo takes Ranboo back to the little room he’s set up shop in, boasting about his inventions but clearly Very unaccustomed to speaking with Actual People. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Ranboo is the physical child of two polymorphed dragons and the adopted child of an angel and a goddess. He isn’t accustomed to speaking with Actual People either. They get along smashingly. 

Tubbo and Niki have made a plan of escape, but never had chance to use it. Now that Ranboo can offer sanctuary, it’s just a matter of getting out and running, but Ranboo refuses. He can’t leave whatever monster is really in the walls for anyone to find and either die to or take advantage of, even if he does destroy Schlatt’s regime. Tubbo insists it’s impossible to even find the thing, its lair is in the fabled ‘center of the maze’, which even he has never been able to find. And even if he could find it, it wouldn’t matter. He’d be killed in an instant. Whatever the thing is, it’s a better fighter than anything else in the nation: that’s why it was locked away. Ranboo offers Tubbo his signet ring (kinda a proposal gesture, we’re Not Acknowledging That RN Tho, We’re Both Traumatized and Trying Not To Die) and tells him to flee to the Antarctic Empire after Niki’s plan to kill Schlatt succeeds. That way Phil can help them, even if Ranboo doesn’t make it. 

Unspooling the golden thread, Ranboo follows it to the center of a maze, where he finds… a study. It looks like it was torn through by a hurricane, then carefully rebuilt, and half of it is filled with untouched and unfinished mechanical structures. He other half is filled with notebooks, maps of the maze, and frantic scribbling. “Another hunt today” one says “I only knew because my claws were scraped.” “I woke with blood in my teeth” another page says. “I think it was a person. I think I was a person, before. I don’t think I am anymore.” 

He doesn’t have the time to piece things together though, because a hulking figure twice his size emerges from a side door and slams into him. He barely manages to knock the blow of a massive axe away, and squinting in the low light, he sees a long-haired, red-eyed man in a tattered uniform and a cape, face twisted and malformed with scars and massive fangs. The uniform is that of Ranboo’s home country. The cape is eerily similar to the one on Phil’s old portraits, before the war. 

‘Oh.’ Ranboo realizes, right as he gets kicked through a wall of foliage. ‘You’re the reason my dad is so sad all the time.’ 

it really seems like all is lost. The man is clearly rabid, insane and muttering to himself, eyes glowing crimson. But right as he’s about to kill Ranboo, he sees the earring, and he stops. He turns to a drawer in one of the desks and pulls out a matching earring, and the light fades from his eyes. 

‘im sorry’ he says, ‘I’m not a man anymore. They took that from me. It was some kind of curse. They made me kill my own people. They made me a creature.’ 

‘well, that’s nothing new’ Ranboo shrugs. ‘Curses can be broken, and I’m rather good friends with a few creatures at this point. What’s one more?’ 

so they escape, the earrings doing something?? To help keep the man calm. Niki burns the tree in the center of the castle and Techno (because we all knew it was Techno) triggers the self destruct system he’d found in the maze during those few moments of sanity between all the hunting. Niki also remembers a rant or an offhand comment Schlatt made at some point early in her apprenticeship about how to break some curse in the maze, something he was gloating about that she only really gets once she sees the massive fellow being led out of the maze by a very excited Ranboo. 

everyone escapes and there’s more Plot but the important bit is: Ranboo forgets about the sails. As they near the harbor, they see a cloud of ravens flying in from every direction, and Techno Loses His Mind. Turns out that only happens when Phil is Really In Danger, Dying, or, hypothetically, dead of grief from the loss of what he believes to be his last living family member. (Yes we have the option here of perms-killing Phil right in the final stretch but I Choose No, because No) There’s a very dramatic reunion where Techno is midway to War Mode while Phil is definitely post-giving-his-soul-up-to-Lady-Death-now-that-everyone-I-love-is-dead, Just-Back-From-Being-Dead-And-Not-Sure-Why-His-Wife-Didn’t-Keep-Him-This-Time??? before Ranboo Explains Everything. Tubbo and Ranboo end up platonically married like Ranboo’s father and Tubbo’s weird uncle in the walls before them and ruling the country as King and General. Niki gets a bakery and a chance to use her alchemy powers for yummy purposes instead of poison. Everyone lives and is happy. The end.

#molten rambles #technoblade #mcyt #philza #tubbo #ranboo #beeduo #emerald duo #fanfic ideas #mcyt fanfiction #DO YOU SEE MY VISION #DO YOU COMPREHEND #It’s a syndicate fic technically

[xeno828]

Okay, I'm an idiot!!! (Trollhunters Ending Revelation)

So, someone pointed this out to me recently and I just want to cry!! HERE ME OUT.............the ending to Rise of the Titans is actually better than you think cus there were some details I think were meant to be more obvious than they came across.

FIRST - We're all peeved that going back in time erased everyone's memories and therefore relationships and character development. However, when they go back Tobey is suddenly able to climb the rope in gym class and Claire seems to be paying attention more to Jim than last time. Especially when he is giving his speech at the audition, having a rewatch made me realize as soon as he starts speaking she has a look of recognition, almost like she thinks she's heard this speech somewhere before. Not only that but Barbara and Stickler got along incredibly quickly for 2 people who had only just met. These imply they have some sort of subconscious memory of the last timeline, WHICH considering Nari said time is NOT linear makes sense, cus if it was liner everything would be exactly the same as the first time without these subtle changes. Also, Nari said the ninth configuration is the key, the amulet would only work after they figured this out, if that's the case maybe Nari knew the amulet would to some degree protect them from complete amnesia, they just need to be 'woken up' so to speak. (Also since Merlin and Nari will be alive again they might actually be able to help with this too, especially Nari, she's the demi-god that gave them this advice for goodness sake!!!)

SECOND - The new amulet is 'For the good of all' which does tie directly into going back in time to save EVERYONE.

THIRD - Jim went back in time using the new Akiridion amulet, that means HE STILL HAS IT!!!! The message of the entire movie with Jim is that he now doesn't need the original amulet to be the Trollhunter, he always has been and always will be. Thats why the original amulet chose Toby instead of Jim the second time, it knows Jim doesn't need it anymore and can continue fighting as he is, he will ALWAYS be the Trollhunter with or without it. Jim also knows if he sticks to the original time things will end up the same and his friends that had died will still die, he's urging Toby to be the new Trollhunter to protect him in the coming fights.

There were a couple more points and details but honestly it's 3am and my ADHD brain has forgotten the rest and lost the TikTok I watched 😅

Overall tbh I'm still not happy with the ending, BUT having these pointed out has given me a different less hostile viewpoint on it. I certainly think it's plausible that this was intended but didn't come across very clearly to audiences (myself very much included). Either way, however you wanna interpret it I'm sticking with this as cannon cus if fills me with a lot more hope for the ending than how I originally felt and I don't know about you but I like feeling happy! 🤣

#rise of the titans #trollhunters #3below #tales of arcadia #wizards #jim lake jr #claire #douxie #toby #krel #aja #tarron #fanfic #theory #hisirdoux #nari #fanfiction

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Atsushi Nakajima (self-aware)

Self-Aware! Atsushi Nakajima x GN!Reader

Warning: Yandere. OOC. Slight spoilers for Atsushi's past. Atsushi almost had an existential crisis, English is my second language.

Becoming self-aware

🐯 Atsushi was the first character who gained self-awareness.

🐯 When Atsushi realised he was a fictional character, he was devastated and confused.

🐯 His past in the orphanage... Does it have any meaning? Or was it all just for someone's entertainment? Has he even been abused by the orphanage director? Was he even a child? Or he just appeared on the river bank with memories of events that never occurred?

🐯 And his new friends? Were they alive? Or they were puppets, forced to say the same lines?

🐯 Thankfully, other characters soon become self-aware and Atsushi wasn't alone anymore, but damage has already been done.

🐯 And then he felt an entity's presence.

_________________________________________

At first, Atsushi thought, that he finally lose it. He won't be surprised, really. Atsushi couldn't even be sure, that he could be considered human at that point, so, the feeling of being watched just tagged along with Atsushi's anxiety and dread.

Soon, Atsushi realised, that it wasn't him going mad. Someone was watching him and other members of ADA. Everyone noted, that they felt someone's presence.

Yes, Atsushi could pretend, that Dazai was playing along, pretending, he also felt been watched, but, Atsushi admitted, that Dazai would never do that. And then Kunikida and President Fukuzawa admitted, that they feel someone's gaze on them.

And they weren't been watched all the time. The presence were there only when something interesting were happening. Like something, or someone, was doing it for its own entertainment. Like it was watching the TV show.

They weren't going mad. Someone was watching them. It wasn't the ability. It was someone not from Yokohama.

This someone came from outside.

And time resets.

Atsushi, once again, was on the river bank.

________________________________________

When they start feeling your presence

🐯 Atsushi was scared of you. Were you the one who did it? Were you the one, who emptied the streets of Yokohama?

🐯 Atsushi was angry at you. Were you doing it for your own amusement? Were you making them believe they were fictional characters?

🐯 And now you reset time. Are you a god? Are you a demon? Are you an evil spirit? Why are you doing it? Who give you the right to play with their lives?

🐯 Atsushi saved Dazai from the river, again. And then Atsushi felt it. The entity cheered. The entity was... praising him? For doing a good job? No, for doing the right thing. For been a good person.

"You [|||||||||||||] good [||||||||||], Atsushi! Don't [||||||||||||]!

🐯 Atsushi can recognise all the words But it was clear, that entity's feelings and words were genuine. And really strong. Atsushi felt, like he was covered with something warm. With the softest blanket.

🐯 Atsushi saw, that both Dazai and Kunikida felt the same. During their dinner in a tea house, all of them felt it. The entity was amused with Dazai's antics. The entity was intrigued by Kunikida's combat skills.

🐯 But, the most important thing happened in the warehouse, when Atsushi, once again, talked to Dazai about his past in the orphanage.

_________________________________________

"At the orphanage, people always told me I'm worthless. I have no idea where my next meal will come from or my next bed. No one would care if I died on the street. I might as well just let that beast eat me and be done with it."

As soon as this words left Atsushi's mouth, he heard sobs.

The entity was crying. Atsushi felt something warm on his cheek. Like someone was petting him.

[In reality, you are gently petting manga's panel with Atsushi.]

Atsushi recognised some words.

"poor Atsushi" "monsters" "with a child" "how dare they".

And then, clear as day.

"I am sorry, I can't take your pain away."

🐯 Atsushi felt that his anger dissapeared. He doesn't know, who are you. What are you. But he knew one thing. You cared.

🐯 Their story continues. Soon all characters heard something nice from you. The union was formed. All organisations decided to work together to find more about you and find a way to reach out for you.

And then, one day, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

🐯 Atsushi was your first character. From now on, he heared you nice and clear.

"You are the good person, Atsushi! You are stronger, than you think. Don't let others say you otherwise."

"Wow! You did so much damage! You are so cool, Atsushi!"

"Here, let's raise your level!"

🐯 You praised him. You were glad, he is with you.

🐯 Atsushi felt aful that he hated you. You were so kind. And when others uncovered, that you were a simple person, who had no idea they were alive, Atsushi felt even worse. He thought you were something supernatural and bad. And you were someone normal and kind.

🐯 Atsushi want to protect you. To be near you. He and others will find a way to you world. They will be with you. Until then, they have this game to talk to you.

____________________________

You opened the BSD Mayoi. You decide to check, if there was new gifts from the office. You saw, that you had a new gift in your Gift box. Thinking, that you forgot to collect something, you tap on Gift box icon.

It was a message.

"Dear [Y/N], Thanks for been near. Thanks for been kind. I will find a way to pay for your kindness. For now, acsept this. Atsushi Nakajima."

There was 50 moons attached to the message.

You thought, that it was nee feature in a game. That time to time characters will send players messagers, thanking them. You acsept gift and open character menu. You choose Atsushi's card and pet his chibi sprite.

"Thanks for the gift, Atsushi."

You didn't notice, that sprite blushed.

#bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd anime #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs au #atsushi nakajima #atsushi nakajima x reader #gender neutral reader #yandere #Self-AwareAU #Self-AwareBSD #Self-Aware Atsushi #Self-Aware Atsushi Nakajima #Self-Aware Nakajima

[knowledgeabletrash]

I have so many feelings about the first Hunt and it’s aftermath from 2x08 & 09! Apologies for the word-vomit below this.

I never thought it would happen, but dare I say, Travis has become one of my favorite characters this season.

As an older sibling, I was right there with Travis these last two episodes. His guilt and grief in Storyteller hit very close to home for me and I just.

Right after the crash, everyone looked to Travis to take care of Javi, even when he was still trying to process the fact that he had just watched his father fall out of a fucking plane. He dug up his father’s rotting corpse in order to get a ring to help Javi grieve and remember their dad. He spent months walking 7 miles in every direction every day looking for Javi. And after all that, Javi still died. Not only did Travis lose his father, but now he’s lost his brother for the SECOND TIME. To make it worse, Javi was safe, he wasn’t picked! But then Travis decided to protect Natalie, and from the looks of it, he was ready to take her place; he threw himself in front of the door behind her and stood with a knife at his throat (for the second time oh my god these girls). I missed it before, but Travis looked to Javi and whispered his name after the Hunt went after Nat, he asked Javi to protect Natalie when he couldn’t. And doesn’t that make it so much worse? Up until then, Javi had been running away from the violence. Travis asked him to step up and take care of Natalie, someone they both grew to love. Javi became just like his big brother, and he died for it.

Side note: Travis is a better man than me because if that was my sister trust and believe I’d have done more than send them on a guilt trip, even if I was starving!! Not to soft quote Queen Ramonda here but HAS HE NOT GIVEN EVERYTHING?! His dad died while helping the girls put on their oxygen masks during the crash, Javi died so that the rest of them wouldn’t starve. His whole family died saving the Yellowjackets! Ben didn’t eat Jackie OR Javi and he’s still alive and kicking and burning down cabins, our girls SICK AND TWISTED (said with love). Even in the Donner Party, they made sure they ate in separate groups so that families would not have to eat each other or watch as their loved ones were eaten.

Anyway, I’ve seen a lot of people harping on Travis for telling Van that they should all be ashamed of what they did, and god it makes me so upset. Y’all can excuse hunting your friends and cannibalism but not a grieving teenage boy lashing out after the murder of his little brother??!! Like, the first thing Travis did when he saw his brother’s body was try to untie his hands because he’s not an animal he’s just a kid, and then cradled him like a baby, only to have his body taken from him moments later to be dismembered and butchered.

As the youngest of the survivors, Javi was someone who, by normal conventions, should have been protected by the rest of the group. Of course Travis needs them to be ashamed of what they did, he blames himself for Javi’s death just as much as he does then, if not more!! Travis was supposed to protect him and he failed him!!

I understand that Travis is not a fan favorite by a long shot and Van is one of the most popular characters in the show, which might be skewing the perception of this scene a bit, but I think the people who are dunking on Travis here are missing the point a little? Yes, Van gave him some brutal honesty and was well within her rights to do so. However!! Travis also gets to be pissed at the Yellowjackets. The fact is: they absolutely SHOULD be ashamed, but they’re not. They fully COULD HAVE saved Javi, but they didn’t. Javi was not the one who drew the card, but he died anyway. Why was Javi’s life worth less than Lottie’s, who might have died on her own? Because they liked her more? Because he was more expendable? No matter how much you justify it, Javi did not NEED to die. None of it was fair. That’s the point, that’s the tragedy of it all!

Lottie Matthews really dropped the thesis of the show: “Is there a difference?”

It doesn’t matter if there was some supernatural entity out there who “chose” Javi to die, it would have happened anyway. It’s much easier to stand by and watch a boy drown than to do the killing yourself. They were starving, he was there. Even if the Wilderness chose, the Yellowjackets chose, too.

Circling back a bit, I also want to talk about the difference between the two instances of cannibalism on this show: how they’re similar and different.

When Shauna and Travis discover their loved ones bodies (both frozen might I add), they assume very similar positions, kneeling by their heads and touching their faces. Both of their death’s were caused by the collective inaction of the rest of the group. The person who takes the first bite was the person who loved them most, thus giving permission to the others to eat and spurring on the feeding frenzy.

Jackie was an accident, Javi was on purpose. When Shauna found Jackie, she screamed and was in denial, trying to shake her awake. Travis was almost completely silent, only whispering “I’m sorry” and cradling Javi’s head in his lap. They held onto Jackie’s frozen corpse for months so Shauna could grieve her, but they took Javi away from Travis after what couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. They ate Jackie whole like vultures, but they butchered Javi like an animal. The process of eating Jackie took a long time, almost three months from her death to consumption. Hell, she was slow roasted. With Javi though, “it all happened so fast” he was dead, cleaned, and eaten all within a few hours.

Shauna ate Jackie’s ear first. Jackie was driven into the cold by Shauna’s words. Travis ate Javi’s heart first. Javi went after Natalie because Travis loved her and because he loved Travis.

I’ve seen people say that the progression to the Hunt was too sudden and a result of bad writing but I’m going to have to disagree! Just from the parallels between Jackie and Javi’s deaths alone you can tell these writers know their shit. The Hunt has been teased since Doomcoming back in S1, the bloodthirsty side to the Yellowjackets has long been set up (Not!Tai eating Jackie’s face, Misty pushing Crystal, Shauna beating up Lottie). All season, we have seen various characters talking about eating another person multiple times (Misty and Crystal with the bone broth, Gen and Melissa about Crystal’s body, Mari and Misty both threatening Coach Ben), so they’ve had cannibalism on the brain for a while before they decided to Hunt. I’d go so far as to say the first signs of the Hunt were back in 1x01 with the girls icing out Allie for the greater good so they could win nationals. Them shunning Jackie solidified that the Yellowjackets were more than comfortable singling out and dehumanising one of their own, so long as the rest of the group deemed it necessary.

Cannibalism also is probably one of those things that gets easier the more you do it? Like they definitely would have Hunted and eaten Travis during Doomcoming if they had already taken the first step into cannibalism before then. Once they ate Jackie, all bets were off. The Wilderness “refusing” to let Lottie die was just a convenient excuse, they were hurdling headfirst into hunting their friends for sport looooong before then.

All this to say the Season 2 finale destroyed me and these are only Some of my thoughts about it. I’m not even TOUCHING the Natalie stuff yet.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets spoilers #travis martinez #van palmer #yellowjackets season 2 #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #javi martinez

[gamerstar111]

Makoto & Nagito’s Survivor’s Guilt

i have many thoughts ab why makoto and nagito would have an interesting dynamic but today i’m thinking abt how their history parallels a little (like a lot of things ab them. they’re foils of each other i cld write an essay about it)

this is just a very long (kind of disorganized) tangent about lucky duo’s traumas and how they shaped their mindsets (and how they might understand each other better than people think at first)

i kind of get nervous anytime i put my analyses out there for people to percieve, but that’s okay. we’re facing fears today. LOL

——————————————————————————

i don’t think many people think about how makoto probably understands the survivor’s guilt nagito deals with better than anyone could, because he also has the mentality that he didn’t deserve to survive the things he did, and that his luck had a lot to do with his survival. they cope in very different ways, but at the core of their emotions they both feel that same “i don’t deserve to live” guilt.

——————————————————————————

Makoto’s Survivor’s Guilt

makoto doesn’t attribute as much of his trauma (which is the killing games he went through) to his luck, it doesn’t factor into his thinking as much as it does for nagito. junko says it at some point in the anime: makoto’s luck isn’t like nagito’s! he wouldn’t ever be able to utilize it like nagito can, because it isn’t consistent, it comes and goes super randomly. it keeps that mf alive and that’s IT 😭

(/j. it does more for him than that but im not talking ab his luck rn so BACK TO HIS SURVIVOR’S GUILT.)

he leaves the first killing game with this huge unofficial responsibility. he lost 10 of his classmates and it’s said that he was able to get his memories back after leaving, so that means he remembers the two years he spent with them. they were his friends :,)

and some of them did more than him to contribute to surviving. i know it’s for comedic effect in the game, but makoto is kind of consistently told by byakuya (and sometimes kyoko & others) that he’s stupid or unhelpful. + he already struggles with feeling like he’s not interesting, memorable, or unique in any kind of way (mr. “i’m average at being average”)

but nevertheless, he survives the games, (after basically convincing his remaining classmates to NOT sacrifice him. a second time.) and when he does get out, he joins the future foundation, where his nickname as the ultimate hope starts to push him to do as much as he can. and because he’s so determined to save as many people as he can, he opposes the foundation’s plan to kill the remnants, and takes them to jabberwock island. he’s so determined to do as much as he can because he feels like if he doesn’t, he’s wasting the life he was given. it’s implied a few times that he would have killed himself if he didn’t feel guilty throwing away the life that was taken from his friends! people don’t talk enough about how makoto is NOT as endlessly optimistic as everyone thinks

he isn’t completely immune to despair. i honestly feel like his main motivation in helping people and spreading hope isn’t that he lives by it, it’s that he has to do as much as he can to to spread it to OTHERS because if he doesn’t, what is he doing with the life he has that his friends were robbed of? i could get into the nuances of makoto’s character and how he isn’t just “hope enthusiast #1” but that’s more fitting of a makoto exclusive character analysis. coming soon/hj

the point of that is that he wouldn’t be alive if he didn’t feel like he had to make something of the fact that his classmates died and he didn’t. that’s what motivates him to try and save everyone, no matter who they are or how terrible they are (him saving the remnants, trying to save junko even though he hated her for what she did, and trying to save the future foundation members in the second game, even though they want him dead)

and when he already has this mentality, he goes through a SECOND killing game, where one of his closest friends (i forget if it’s canon they were dating or not, but you get the point) dies as a DIRECT result of him surviving. and instead of breaking down and giving up, he takes it and becomes more determined to end the game. but his despair video shows that he feels so guilty that he survived, even if he doesn’t ruminate in that feeling.

but nagito is the polar opposite

——————————————————————————

Nagito’s Survivor’s Guilt

most of nagito’s character revolves around two things:

His self-loathing

His twisted perception of hope, and his obsession with the concept

putting aside the fact that he has been diagnosed with dementia that definitely warps his perception of reality as it is, when you look into his backstory it makes sense why he thinks the way he does. his childhood pet died in a car crash when he was a little kid, then, when he goes on vacation with his parents (still in elementary school), the plane taking them back is hijacked, and then those hijackers are killed by a meteorite that also kills his parents right in front of him.

he has no other living relatives, so he’s given all of their inheritance, and is said to be free to live on his own. so he’s been alone since he was a kid, and then during middle school, he’s kidnapped by a SERIAL KILLER that held him for ransom, and then let him go after realizing no one was going to come for him. (which is actually so distressing to me like r u kidding me that’s so SAD HE HAD NO ONE WILLING TO EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE HE WAS MISSING?? UGH. ANYWAY.)

any chance at happiness Nagito has had was ripped from him in that cycle of good and bad luck. he starts to become fixated (and eventually, unhealthily obsessed) with the concept of hope, so that he could try and find some meaning to his life beyond killing anyone who'd ever shown him any kindness or cared about him. and then after ALL OF THIS, in high school before hope's peak, he gets diagnosed not only with CANCER, but also DEMENTIA. Which, typically, only affects people over 65!!!! he was probably not older than 16 when he got diagnosed!!!! he's then told that he probably has less than 6 months to live. he tells hajime this whole speech about how he realized all he wanted his entire life was to be loved by someone, and he didn't want to die alone, but then says that he was just quoting something, curious to the sympathy it would get him (i don't really believe that, but THAT is a nagito analysis topic. back on topic again…)

then he gets invited to hope's peak. he tries to refuse, but they insist, and so he finally agrees. but then, during his second year, junko starts to ruin things, and yet ANOTHER person he started to care about is killed right before his eyes (chiaki). of course, then, he goes on to bring as much pain and despair to anyone he can under junko’s brainwashing

he's fully convinced that he's a curse, and that he's not worthy of living.

——————————————————————————

"ok….. what’s your point??" you didn’t ask???

the difference between nagito and makoto is that makoto took his grief and made it into motivation, while nagito took his grief as a personal reflection, and spiraled down into a mental decline.

i think the main reasons for this difference is that, first of all, nagito's trauma has been his entire life. since he was a little kid up to even currently (when he's around 21-22), all he's done is cause or witness death anywhere he's gone. watching your childhood pet AND parents die before your eyes has to impact development in some kind of way (not to mention he was entirely alone since ELEMENTARY SCHOOL)

makoto had a very average, but nice life to that point. he had nice parents that were together and happy, his little sister that he's super close to, and while he didn't have any super close friends, he wasn't on particularly bad terms with anyone (as shown by his reaction to seeing sayaka, and sayaka's reaction to knowina him). all of the trauma and death he experienced happened to him when he was an adult (even though he thought he was 16-17 when the first killing game happened, he was most likely 18-19 and junko can erase memory but not alter brain development. so.)

second of all, makoto had support from his friends! he had the other 5 survivors, and then during the second game, he had kyoko and aoi to support him and get him through it. nagito grew up experiencing all of this grief and guilt and trauma entirely alone, even during the killing game he was in. his classmates treat him awfully even before he has his mental break doing incredibly unhinged shit like blowing up the gym (it's so. hard. to defend him sometimes.)

i still haven’t gotten to my point oh my god i talk a lot. BUT THE POINT IS they cope extremely differently, and arguably have different levels of trauma, but they experience the same survivors guilt. both of them feel like they don't deserve to be alive, and that others around them deserve so much better than they do. i really feel like makoto would be able to empathize with nagito's struggles with survivor's guilt and self worth, because he feels the same things! clearly, not to the same extent, but again, that goes back to the support makoto got during his experiences. it's one of the many MANY reasons i think makoto and nagito would be able to help each other heal, instead of being unhealthy like a lot of people say. (of course it depends on when because obviously, servant nagito meeting ff!makoto would not be healthy. that man would skeeve makoto out MASSIVELY but that dynamic is also an interesting one to explore.... ANYWAY.)

nagito's obsession with hope would give him an unhealthy attachment/idolization of makoto at first, but i really do believe that after he recovers a little more from junko's influence, a few days with the guy would make nagito realize that they're way more similar than he thought and that respectfully, makoto isn't as amazing and godly as he thought LOL

——————————————————————————

TLDR: they have very similar experiences, the only difference between them is that makoto had support that reminded him he wasn't to blame for the deaths of those around him, while nagito was isolated from EVERYONE from a very, VERY young age, and it led to his mental decline. i really believe they would be able to help each other heal a lot and that's why i love them so much :(

side note: genuinely nothing makes me as sad as nagito and his dog 😞 every time i mention them i get so upset

#nagito komaeda #makoto naegi #komaegi #sdr2 #dr thh #lucky duo #lucky duo tangents #posting dr opinions is so scary #please be nice #cxsmictangents

[daechwitatamic]

IV. Something Has to Change

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

Your friendship with Taehyung starts to show its cracks.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7.5k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Saturday October 20th

You text Taehyung before going to sleep just to confirm he didn’t die in a ditch, but it’s radio silence from him until almost three o’clock the next afternoon. When he does finally answer you - “alive but at what cost?” - you roll your eyes and turn your phone over, screen down. You’re sitting in the living room, two author anthologies open on the coffee table, bookends to your open notebook. 

Apparently he’s displeased with your silence, because your phone buzzes again a few minutes later - the longer buzz, indicating a call of some kind. With a huff of aggravation, you flip it over to see it’s a video call, his preferred method of communication. You slide the button to accept the call, but let him stare at your ceiling. 

“What?” you demand. “I can’t talk, I have to go call off my search parties.”

“I was asleep,” he defends himself. “I texted you as soon as I woke up!”

“Didn’t sleep last night, huh?” you joke, but the sting is there. Just a little. 

He avoids the question. “What are we doing tonight?”

You laugh at the audacity of his whole existence. Admitting to your face that he’d been up all night with a girl, and then calling you first thing upon waking like he knows you’ll just be there, waiting for him. What would happen if you weren’t?

Not to mention asking what the Saturday night plan is thirty seconds after waking up with a hangover. 

“I’m assuming you won’t want to go out?” you ask. 

He hums, runs a hand through his messy hair. “Depends. I could be persuaded, maybe. Wouldn’t mind just hanging out, though. What about a movie? We have that one we’ve been saving?”

We.

You’re not sure why, today, it’s bothering you so much. The truth is, Taehyung’s acting and speaking the same as always. So what’s different?

You don’t want to examine the answer to that, so you focus on the plan instead. “I like the sound of a movie,” you agree. “Wanna see if anyone else is interested?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says. “I’ll text everyone.”

“Sounds good. See you around eight?”

“Should we order dinner before that?” he asks.

Something in your stomach turns. You don’t want to. You don’t want to keep getting your heart stepped on. You don’t want his metaphorical scent on all of your clothes, so that you can’t go anywhere or do anything without him lingering on you. 

And at the same time, he’s your best friend. He’s your family. You love him, in multiple ways.

It feels like being tugged in opposite directions. It feels like lose/lose. It feels like there’s no right answer, nowhere to turn, no option that doesn’t hurt.

“Not tonight,” you hear yourself say. “I have too much homework.”

“Okay,” he says easily. “See you around eight, then. I’ll let you know if anyone else is coming with me.”

You try to return to homework after you hang up, but your focus is shot. You lean onto the cushy back of the couch, closing your eyes. You’re still sitting like that when you hear the front door open. Namjoon hadn’t been home when you got up, had been out the whole time.

“Hey,” you say, eyes still closed.

He gives a chuckle. “Everything okay?”

“I think my brain is broken,” you tell him. “Can Edna write about something besides death?”

He huffs out a laugh, and you hear him drop his keys onto the counter. “I think she does,” he says, coming closer and peering at the anthology you still have open on the table in front of you. “Nature. Rebellion. Men. Women. Love. Sex.”

Your cheeks burn, like you’re thirteen damn years old, just from hearing the word sex in his low, steady voice.

Get a grip, you scold yourself silently. 

“I guess so,” you admit. “But today everything I read is about grief.”

“Take a break,” he suggests, moving into the kitchen. You hear a cabinet open and the sink run, and then he comes in carrying a glass of water. He sits down a few feet away from you on the couch and copies your pose, leaning back against the cushions.

It occurs to you that you’ve never sat on the couch at the same time as him before. In fact, your Uber ride last night was the closest your bodies had ever been. 

“We’re gonna watch a movie tonight,” you find yourself telling him. “That new one with what’s-his-face, Raven’s Prophecy? Around eight. If you want to join.”

“Yeah,” he says right away, surprising you. “Sounds good.”

–

The movie’s good  - really good. You’re all crowded around the living room - Namjoon on one end of the couch, Yoongi on the other, you and Taehyung and Jimin on the floor. The coffee table has been pushed to the side to make room for you, the lights turned down. Taehyung is sitting with his back against the couch, legs extended in front of him, and you have a throw-pillow leaning against his knees, laying perpendicular to him. Jimin sits next to Taehyung, one of his legs resting lazily over top of yours.

It feels normal, and it feels nice, and everything weird from earlier seems to float away. Maybe you had just been tired. 

“That’s totally foreshadowing,” you pipe up, raising a hand to point at the screen. “Because when he-.”

“Hey,” Taehyung says loudly, reaching over to flick the back of your arm. “No nerd talk. Just enjoy the movie. No one asked for a literary analysis.”

“But, look -.”

“No,” he repeats firmly, and Jimin giggles, used to this exact squabble. “This is fun, not school.”

“Foreshadowing is fun!” you protest, laughing, but you let it go. 

A second later, your phone buzzes in your hand. 

[9:37 PM] Namjoon: 🤯

You bite back a smile, turning off your screen before the light can catch anyone’s attention, and then you cast your gaze up at the couch to find Namjoon looking right at you, a sheepish smile creeping up on one side of his face. 

You’re thankful for the dark of the room, the light shifting and changing with the scene on the tv screen, as you feel yourself blush. 

God, you think to yourself. Get it together. Two days ago, it hadn’t been like this, where every met glance cues up a shy smile, and each tiny smile elicits a flush. You don’t know who this girl is but she is un-fucking-recognizable. 

You wait a minute or two, then turn your brightness down and send back, “but am i wrong?”. Then you glance back up to watch Namjoon read the text. He gives a laugh, one shake of his shoulders as he sees it, and then he meets your gaze. That same half-smile on his face, he shakes his head imperceptibly. 

Behind you, beneath you, Taehyung shifts and you turn back to the tv quickly, feeling something akin to guilt simmer in your gut. You don’t see his eyes bounce back and forth between you and Namjoon, curious. 

Monday October 22nd

Monday brings bright sunshine despite the chilly air, morning light illuminating the deep reds and oranges of the trees down the block. 

Namjoon finds you in the kitchen, staring listlessly into an untouched cup of coffee. 

“Good morning?” he greets you, a question.

You startle. “Shit!” you yelp and then laugh, heart pounding. “I didn’t even hear you getting ready in there. ”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says apologetically. “I’m heading to campus in a bit… how about you?”

“Yeah,” you say glumly. “I have work and class.”

“Same,” he says, moving around you to rummage for some breakfast. “Class first, and then I’m TA-ing all afternoon.” 

You give him a little smile. “I don’t think I’ll be needing your services today.”

“No?” he asks mildly. “Last few submissions went well?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I’ve written anything worth submitting.”

He laughs, his back to you, and then settles against the kitchen counter. “I can help you brainstorm, too, if you’re stuck.”

You bite back the prideful I don’t need your help that rises to your tongue. He’s being nice. Instead, you say, “Hopefully I’ll make some progress on my own. Have fun, though. You still have that office to yourself? If I had that, I’d be so productive. Nothing to distract me.”

Namjoon shakes his head, smiling ruefully. “I find ways. I still have my phone. And a window.”

You laugh at this, and then rise, draining half of your mug of coffee in one go. “I need to head in. Are you leaving now, too? Or, later?”

“I can make now work,” he says, something warm in his tone. “Let me just go grab my bag.”

Out front, you blink against the sudden brightness, holding up a hand to shield your eyes as they adjust. Namjoon locks the front door and comes down the steps at a light jog, stopping next to you.

“Ready?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, and you start off towards campus in silence, the only noise around you the calls of birds and the hum of car engines from nearby traffic. 

You stop at an intersection, watching the orange hand tell you to wait. “So,” you say, glancing up at him as the cars whiz by, “what’s your book about?”

He looks at you completely blankly, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“For the grad program,” you clarify. “You said you were in fiction, right?”

“Oh,” he says, as if he forgot. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“Try,” you say dryly.

“It’s a coming-of-age, I guess,” he says, rubbing his chin as he thinks. He’s wearing his glasses today, and you have half a mind to tease him that he’s just trying to look like one of the professors so they don’t kick him out of his hijacked office. “And a bit of an unrequited love story.”

“The good kind or the bad kind?” you ask, a little absently. When he doesn’t answer, you look at him to determine why, and he’s looking at you like you’ve asked the most ridiculous question in the world.

You huff out a sigh. “Like - unrequited because the other person doesn’t know, or because they don’t return the feelings?”

“One of those is the good kind?” he asks, raising a brow. 

“The first one,” you say, as if it’s obvious. “It’s… it always exists only as the idea of love, it’s untarnished, it can remain a beautiful and pure thing. It never gets messed up.”

“But you’re alone,” Namjoon counters. 

“You still love someone,” you insist. “The meaning of life, and all that shit.”

Namjoon shakes his head as the stoplight above you changes from green to yellow, and then to red. “It’s not the same as loving someone and having them love you back, building it together and working to sustain it,” he says firmly. “That’s real love.” And then he heads for the crosswalk, his long legs carrying him swiftly away. 

You hurry to catch up, feet following his without question.

–

The first leaf falls, a warning. Now the rest will follow. I watched them sway all summer. Autumn leaves me hollow.

There’s a promise in the air, I turn towards the icy bite. If autumn can’t make me happy, I wonder if winter might.

Aren’t those frozen days so dark? Isn’t catching snowflakes strange? Perhaps this could be something. Perhaps something has to change.

You frown at the page. Half of you is tempted to take Namjoon up on his offer to workshop during his TA hours, but you’ve got a good reason not to let him see this one. 

“Y/N?” Kris calls from the register at the front of the store. “Did I leave my phone back there?”

Their voice brings you back to reality, pulling your focus from the page of your notebook open on your lap. You’re hiding in the stockroom, sitting on an unpacked box of what you hope are books, trying to cram in some coursework. 

Kris’s phone is indeed on a table behind you, where you sling your bookbag when you come in to start a shift. You rise, slipping your notebook back into said bag and grabbing the phone, walking it out to them. 

You’re alarmed when both phones buzz in your hands, a long, repeating pattern that you aren’t accustomed to.

“What the fuck?” you utter, even though if your boss heard you cursing on the floor you’d get a written reprimand for the first time in your life. 

“Storm alert,” Kris says, reaching one grabby hand out for their phone. You pass it over and press your thumb to your own screen. Sure enough, it’s a severe weather alert. 

You groan. “Great. I walked here.” You try to pull up the radar, but your shitty service takes too long to load it so you switch over to the hour-by-hour. 

“See if your knight in shining armor will give you a ride,” Kris says with a twisted chuckle. 

For a second, you aren’t sure if they mean Taehyung or Namjoon, and that fact is startling. Obviously they mean Taehyung, they know a lot of your history with him and they don't know anything about what’s happening with Namjoon. Nothing is happening with Namjoon, you correct yourself sternly. You had a weird desire to scoot closer while drunk in an Uber and had one sort of deep conversation. It’s not a thing. 

And, actually, texting Taehyung for a ride is a pretty good idea. Outside, it’s not even raining yet, but the clouds hang low and the leaves that have managed to cling to their branches this late into autumn are flipping and shimmying in the harsh wind. 

There’s a long line of students waiting to check out - probably grabbing last minute snacks and drinks before the rain starts, so they don’t have to go out later - so you slide next to Kris at the second register and swipe your access card. You work like this for at least an hour, the rain starting a pace outside the windows as steady as the flow of students trying to get what they need and hurry back to their dorms. 

When you catch a minute, you send a text, holding your phone down under the counter and typing with one hand, as if it isn’t painfully obvious what you’re doing. When the answer comes in, you tap the screen quickly.

[4:22 PM] You: are you still on campus?

[4:31 PM] Namjoon: just finished work. can’t wait to walk back in this…

You giggle and Kris looks at you out of the corner of their eyes.

“That him?” they ask. They mean Taehyung, and you’re too damn aware of the lie as you answer, “Mhm.”

[4:34 PM] You: i’m done in 25 min if you want to suffer together

[4:36 PM] Namjoon: yeah sounds good you can make sure i dont drown lol

An “lol”? Oh, goodness.

[4:37 PM] Namjoon: you’re at the bookstore right? i’ll come there and wait for you

Oh, lord, Kris is going to have a field day with this. You don’t have time to focus on this, as your boss finally sweeps out of her adjoining office, announcing that you need to shut down the second register and finish everything in the back room before your shift ends. She’ll be the one to close the store tonight, as she does on Mondays. 

When you emerge from the back room at 4:59 on the dot, your backpack on your back, Namjoon is loitering near the registers, and Kris is shooting you looks that are somehow mischievous, delighted, and wounded. You have a feeling you’ll be interrogated during your shift on Wednesday.

Outside, the rain isn’t that bad, but it is steady. The wind blowing makes it look like it’s raining left to right, in sheets. 

“We’re gonna be drenched,” you groan. You follow Namjoon out of the bookstore, waving a goodbye at a still-disgruntled Kris, stopping at the glass doors that lead outside. 

“It’s not that bad,” Namjoon tells you, voice a little fond, like he thinks your complaining is cute. “We’ll just go quick. I’m mostly worried about my laptop.”

“Ugh, same,” you lament. “We’d better be fast, I fully cannot afford a new one.”

“Let’s go,” he tells you, and leads you outside. Just like that morning, your feet follow his, like it’s natural. You walk in silence almost halfway home, the pace too clipped to really carry on any kind of conversation. 

You’re practically panting for breath when you hit the major crosswalk, stopping to wait for the signal to walk. The rain seems worse when you’re stopped - sticking your hair to your head where it lands, raising the hairs on your arms as your body gives one dramatic shiver against the chill. Namjoon looks down at you.

“We’re almost there,” he says, reassuring. 

“Mhm,” you manage, rubbing your hands over your arms to fight off the goosebumps. The light changes and you start across, following Namjoon and his naturally long stride. You keep your eyes on the ground, dodging puddles, watching the white stripes pass beneath you. 

You’re just across, stepping up the curb onto the sidewalk, when it happens.

The sky opens. 

One second it’s raining hard enough to be a nuisance, the next second it feels like someone dumped a bucket of water over your head. The sound goes from a soft patter to a sudden roar, like the rain is alive and it is pissed. You splutter, actually blowing water away from your lips, reaching up to wipe your eyes. 

“Fucking shit,” Namjoon swears, and then he grabs your hand and tugs. “Come on!”

He’s not running that fast but there’s still a few seconds where you feel uneven, your gait awkward, trying to match his. Eventually your feet settle into the rhythm and you run just behind him. His hand, so large in yours it's almost swallowing it, is warm and solid and sure. His grip is tight - like he means it. He doesn’t look back as he runs, just squeezes your hand in his and trusts you to keep up.

When you round the corner of your block, together, you try to pull back, try to slow down. Your lungs hurt, your legs are burning, and you just want to admit defeat and walk the block letting the rain know it won.

Namjoon doesn’t let you. He slows his pace to more of a race-walk, gives your arm another playful tug. Not for a single second does he loosen his grip on your hand.  

“You can make it,” he tells you over his shoulder. His hair is flattened from the rain, his face a little flushed from the run, but his dimples wink at you through the deluge.

When he reaches the front of the apartment, he finally drops your hand and takes the steps at a clip. At the top, under the safety of the awning, he turns to see why you haven’t followed him.

You can’t help it - it’s all so ridiculous you have to laugh. Your hair sticks to your face like cooked spaghetti, your shirt clings to your arms, your backpack is dripping water like there’s a faucet in there, and even your socks are wet, making each step you take squelch like mud. Still cackling at the absurdity of this moment, of having been completely defeated by the season, of running all the way home and still ending up half-drowned, you look up at the sky. The rain slides down the sides of your face and you let it cool the heat that’s there from either running, or Namjoon’s touch.

You feel a little drunk from it. 

“Y/N!” Namjoon scolds from the top of the stairs, but he’s smiling that same fond little smile he’d had on movie night a few days ago. “Come inside! You’re going to get pneumonia.”

You look back at him, the rain still assaulting you from above. There’s a second where you feel something. Something like… you’re half-drowned and chilled to the bone, but you feel warm with his affectionate gaze on you. Like you don’t want him to look away and leave you cold again. Like the rain was penance and now you’re all paid up. 

Like for at least this moment, right now, the rain has washed away your histories and left you clean and empty, a blank page waiting for a new story to tell - where before, your pages were full of scribbles and scrawls that held such heavy meaning there was no room for anything new.

You’re thinking too much.

You’re standing in the rain, Namjoon is looking at you like you’re nuts, and you’re thinking too much.

 Watching your feet, you head up the stairs, going through the front door that he’s holding open for you.

You squish your way upstairs, neither of you talking. Inside the apartment, Namjoon flicks on a few lamps.

“I’m going to grab a shower,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You should, too.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “That was my plan.”

You stand beneath the spray of hot water, tapping on the faucet to work it hotter by degrees, not wanting the temperature to jump and scald you. You feel drained, like your limbs are noodles. You lean your forehead against the tile wall, closing your eyes and just breathing.

“What the fuck…” you whisper to no one, “is going on?”

You wish you had a friend to talk it out with. Kris would go overboard, exploding with glee. Lin isn’t a talk about boys kind of person, or even a talk about your feelings kind. That leaves Taehyung, and the idea of trying to talk to him about your burgeoning feelings for Namjoon makes you laugh out loud, the single syllable echoing off the shower walls, echoing back to mock you. 

When you finally make it back into the living room, hair blow-dried and wearing your fuzziest joggers and a hoodie, Namjoon is tucked away in his own room, the door open that familiar four inches. 

You get settled on the couch and pull out your phone and realize practically with a gasp - you hadn’t even tried to text Taehyung to drive you, nice and dry, back from campus. Your brain had thought but I walked here with Namjoon and the option of “dry” went right out the window.

You cover your face with your hands, sliding down on the couch a little bit. What is the matter with you? 

You feel right now like it’s all happening too much, too fast. What even is “it”? Do you like Namjoon? Despite barely knowing him? Despite having to live with him? 

Despite the years and years of experience you have with loving Taehyung, and Taehyung alone, out of everyone in the whole wide world?

Luckily, Namjoon stays in his room for the rest of the evening, sparing you from any more self-reflection, any more soul-searching. 

You still kind of wish he’d come out. 

Tuesday October 23rd

One of the steady things that you and Namjoon share, that works for you as roommates, is that neither of you cooks. A whole kitchen of pots and pans just to heat up water for tea and ramen and to occasionally cook an egg. 

So when you get home from class on Tuesday so late that it’s already pretty dark out and you hear the clanging and banging from the kitchen that indicates a meal being made, you genuinely wonder if you’re at the wrong door. 

As you push the door open, the noise only gets louder. You round the corner and see the kitchen in chaos - two unmanned pans on the stove, bowls and whisks and colanders and cutting boards all over the counterspace. Namjoon has his back to you, a large kitchen knife in hand. 

You ease around him, not wanting to startle him until the knife is set down. He spots you anyway, and gives you a sheepish grin.

“What… exactly… is happening here?” you inquire. 

“It depends on the scope of your question,” Namjoon answers, because of course he can’t just fucking answer you like a normal person. “If you’re referring to the stove, I am burning some sauce on the left and burning some meat on the right. If you’re referring to the cutting board, I am -.”

“The stove is on fire!” you shriek, pointing, your spare hand flying to cover your mouth in horror. Flames crawl from underneath the pan of meat, over the top, devouring what’s in the pan and leaping into the air. Namjoon drops the knife with a clatter and whirls around, eyes wide. 

“What do I do?” he cries, hands in the air like he’s going to swat the flames like gnats.

“Turn off the burner and smother it!” you cry, not willing to enter the kitchen and get closer to the danger. 

“Smother it?” he repeats, the words a little wild as he screams them. Smoke has filled the kitchen, blurring your view of him, and the smoke alarm over the front door begins to blare. 

“The lid!” you scream, trying to be louder than the alarm. “Turn off the burner and put the lid on the pan! Be careful!”

You add this last part in a shriek as Namjoon follows your directions, reaching towards the flame to twist the burner and then slam the lid over the top of the pan, hissing a little as he does. 

The flames vanish almost instantly, but the smoke remains and the alarm keeps screaming. Namjoon looks at the pan, then his hand, then at you. 

“Go run cool water on that,” you tell him firmly, and you cross the apartment to open the windows and turn on the fans. 

You return to the kitchen to find Namjoon running the sink over his knuckles, brows furrowed.

“Is it bad?” you ask loudly - again, to be heard over the smoke alarm - as you open a drawer and get a kitchen towel, moving to stand in the kitchen’s doorway flapping away, trying to send the smoke towards the open windows. 

“No,” he tells you, pulling his hand out of the stream of water to examine it more closely. “It’s just a little red.”

“Keep it there for a little bit,” you tell him, still flapping away. “I might have burn cream in my bathroom, I’ll check in a second.”

Eventually the alarm quiets and you both heave a sigh of relief. The cold air coming from the open windows chills you down to your toes, but smoke still clings to the room, blurring your vision just enough to wonder if you’re imagining it. 

You find the burn cream in your medicine cabinet and return to the living room. Namjoon is looking at the ruined remains of his dinner with something like heartbreak on his face.

“Come here,” you tell him, sitting at the breakfast bar, ointment in your hand. “Come sit so I can do this.”

“I can do it,” he protests, but he heads your way.

“Sit,” you repeat, pulling out the stool next to you.

He does, silently and obediently, sliding his hand over to you. You can see the redness over his knuckles, middle and index the most. You uncap the tube and squeeze a little onto your fingers, then take his hand in your spare one to hold it steady. Gently you press the cream into his skin, making sure to cover each bit of redness. Namjoon watches you solemnly, wincing a little when your fingers touch his middle knuckle.

“See if that helps,” you tell him, his hand still resting on yours. “Want help cleaning up?”

He sighs heavily, and you both look at the kitchen in defeat at the mess of pans and bowls to wash.

“Do you ever just… miss your mom?” he asks plaintively, not looking at you.

The thing about grief - long-term grief, lifetime grief - is that you can go days, maybe even weeks at a time without noticing it. It’s kind of like a bruise in a hard to reach spot. It just takes one bump in exactly the right place, and it hurts just as bad as day one all over again. Namjoon’s words pierce you, and you take a slow breath. You were just caught off-guard, that’s all. You can be fine. You can be normal.

“Sure,” you say, trying to sound casual. Failing. 

He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion. “Why’d you get weird?” he asks. “Do you have a bad relationship with your mom or something? I didn’t mean to -.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, but you rise and head for the kitchen, starting to pick things up just to do something with your hands. “It’s just… I don’t have my mom anymore. She passed when I was little. My dad too.” Might as well get it all out there. It felt weird to let someone only know half.

It’s easier to handle this moment with Namjoon in another room. You don’t have to watch him react, don’t have to translate his silence and his body language. You slide all the chopped onion onto a plate just  in case Namjoon still wants to use it, and turn to rinse off the cutting board in the sink. 

He appears behind you, silently lingering in the doorway. “Y/N,” he says softly. 

“It’s fine, Namjoon,” you tell him, scrubbing at the cutting board vigorously. You don’t turn to face him.

“I wouldn’t have been so blase about it if I’d known,” he says apologetically.

“I know,” you say. You turn - away from the doorway - to put the cutting board aside to dry. You grab the pan with sauce in it - all congealed and unappetizing now - and move to scrape it into the garbage can. 

He comes up beside you; his fingers touch your elbow, feather-light, like he’s afraid he’ll spook you.

“Y/N,” he implores. “Look at me.”

You do, glancing sideways up at him, the pan heavy in your hand. “I’m not upset,” you assure him. “People just get so weird when they find out. I hate… navigating that, over and over again, with new people.”

He gives you a guilty smile, but there’s relief in it as well. “I will stop being weird immediately,” he promises. “I just felt like I stepped in it, you know?”

You shrug. “It happens to the best of us. It really is fine. It’s been a long time.”

You arm tingles where he’d touched you, but he stays put when you move back to the sink, running the water hot enough to steam before you put the pan under it. Then, wordlessly, he moves next to you, grabbing a cloth and starting to dry the cutting board you’d washed.

You carry on that like that, a perfectly synchronized dance, in silence until the countertop is empty. All that remains is the pan that had been alight about half an hour ago.

“Can I ask you something personal?” he asks, leaning against the counter as you scrape the remains of the charred meat into the garbage with a grimace. “I’m just curious. You can tell me to fuck off.”

“It’s so jarring when you swear,” you tell him.

He grins at you. “Hobi says my surprising potty-mouth is one of my best charms.”

You laugh at this. “I can see that,” you agree. “It is surprising.”

“Not charming?” he teases.

You shrug, feeling that blush rise up again. “No comment. Anyway - what did you want to ask?”

He lets you get away with evading the flirtation. “If you were little… who raised you?”

“Oh,” you say. You aren’t sure what you thought he’d ask, but it wasn’t that. “My grandma, until she couldn’t. Then my Aunt Lin took over, but she’s more like a big sister than anything.”

Namjoon nods. Then he asks, carefully, “Did Taehyung know your parents?”

The question makes you smile at the memories it pulls up - you and Taehyung as kids together, goofing off around your house, back when it had been filled with people.

“Yeah,” you say softly. It doesn’t occur to you to wonder why he’d ask that. It doesn’t occur to you to mask the tiny smile, that it might jostle his feelings even a little bit.

You look over at him when you realize he’s gone quiet. “Are you close with your family?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He nods, eyes on the pan lid that he’s drying. “Very. I was a lost soul when I first moved to campus. I couldn’t do anything.”

“You burned dinner tonight,” you point out. 

“I can do laundry now,” he retorts, smiling at you as you put the last of the dishes away. “I’ve come a long way.”

“Still room to grow,” you tease, reaching out to give his arm a playful nudge.

You’re giving playful touches now. That’s a thing that’s happening. 

You ache, again, to have someone to tell. 

Wednesday October 24th

You both love and hate Wednesdays - on one hand, you have your thesis double-feature, and you actually enjoy it. On the other hand, you go straight from double-class to closing shift at the campus store, and you don’t get home until dark. The day is long, and you’d rather be home. For several reasons. 

Your morning goes as you expect - you make it through the lecture part of class, updating Professor Jemisen on how your research segment is going. During the break, you eat some leftovers you’d thrown in your backpack, and talk with Gloria and the other girls. After the break, your group helps you workshop your latest poem, the one about the season changing, and you do the same for them.

The season changing is happening in real life, all around you. Fall fades quickly, the days darkening, the chills lasting longer, becoming more pronounced. Gone are the autumn days that change their mood and become summer again for hours at a time. 

You normally go straight to the campus store after class, but this week you’re hungry - the leftovers you packed weren’t enough to keep you until you get home. Instead of heading down the main paved path to the student center, where you work, you head for a large academic building you pass on the way there. You know there’s a little sandwich station on the lowest floor, tucked away past the mailroom like a well-kept secret. 

You take a hallway off to the side, passing some open classrooms on your way to the staircase. You’re walking mindlessly, head thinking only about the sandwich you’re going to order. You slow your steps when you hear a familiar voice, low and calm. 

“All I’m saying,” a girl is saying, and you stop in the doorway, listening, “is that while the idea of going to live alone in the woods is actually extremely appealing, Thoreau as a whole kind of sucks.”

“I might agree with you, but you need to frame that more academically,” Namjoon corrects gently.

A circle of students - freshmen, if you had to guess, maybe eight of them, are sitting at desks, their bags all forgotten on the floor by their chairs. Namjoon perches on the edge of the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, legs casually stretched out before him. He’s listening intently as the students debate.

“We have to specify the problem,” someone else in the group points out. “I’m all for metaphorically dragging down statues of the patriarchy and everything, but we need a solid argument.”

“Or,” a different girl says, voice just barely loud enough for you to hear from the hallway, “maybe instead of giving more attention to ‘classics’ we see as undeserving, maybe instead we should focus just on the underprivileged voices that we prefer to be amplified?”

“You mean pick a lesser-known author and shed light on their work instead?” Namjoon clarifies, and the girl nods. 

The group begins to debate this passionately, and Namjoon lets them fight it out, taking a second to glance at his phone. You become aware of the fact that you’re just standing in the hallway staring. You’re about to move on when Namjoon notices you. He looks away quickly at first, and then it registers that it was you standing in the doorway like a weirdo, and his gaze flies back to you. 

Caught, you have no choice but to lean into it. You give him a tiny smile, raising a hand in a guilty wave. He smiles back, just barely. You stay there another minute, smiling at each other, while the freshmen continue to argue. Then your feet spur you on, and you give him a little nod before heading down the hall. But the stupid fucking butterflies stay in your stomach the whole time you wait in line for your sandwich.

When you get to the bookshop, you toss your backpack behind the counter and slump onto a low stool that’s stashed back there. You lean your head on the counter next to the currently unmanned register and let out some unhappy grumbles.

Kris comes out from the stockroom - you can tell it’s them by their footsteps.

“What is happening here,” they say flatly, not exactly a question.

“Kriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis,” you whine, not looking up. “I think I need to talk about… my roommate.”

“Bitch!” they utter indignantly. “He has a name! What grade are we in right now?”

You stomp your feet lightly, needing to display your crankiness. “I am feeling very confused and conflicted and I need you to be nice to me about it,” you say petulantly, finally picking your head up so you can pout better. 

“Okay,” Kris says easily, leaning against the wall. The shop is devoid of customers, so you don’t bother to lower your voice. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you continue to whine. “It’s just how I feel.”

Kris gives you a level stare. “I need the whining to stop, like, yesterday. If you feel conflicted, there’s a reason. So, figure out what it is.”

“I already said I don’t know,” you tell them, still pouty, but sitting up straight now.

“Dig deep,” Kris deadpans. “Do it for the dimples.”

“Oh my GOD,” you say, unable to even make eye contact. “Never mind, conversation over.”

They shake their head, not letting you off the hook. “What’s the problem, Square?” It’s a nickname they gave you last year when you wouldn’t go partying - because… apparently you’re a square.

“You know the problem,” you grumble quietly, making them lean closer to hear you.

They lean back, something knowing in their eyes. “Ah. It’s the Taehyung factor.”

“Shh,” you scold, glancing around the empty store like someone might have materialized without you noticing. When you return your gaze to them, Kris is just staring at you plainly, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“I don’t know,” you say, and then more emphatically, “I don’t know! If I… start something else… does that mean giving Taehyung up? Because I can’t say I want to do that. Not if I’m being honest.”

Kris nods silently, letting you work it out. You meet their eyes, suddenly feeling the squeeze of anxiety around your chest, like your lungs have something heavy they have to push every time you inhale. 

“If I lose him,” you say in practically a whisper, “I will quite literally die.”

Kris scowls at you. “You will not.”

“I will,” you retort. 

Kris gives you an eyeroll. “So dramatic,” they scold. 

“He’s my family, Kris,” you try to explain. “In a lot of ways he’s my only family.” Your voice breaks as you ask, “What if I lose him?”

Now Kris softens, lips pulling together into something like a very pursed frown. “Maybe you should talk to him,” they suggest quietly.

You hate that idea a lot. “Maybe,” you say loudly, slapping your hand on the counter and standing as the bell over the door chimes and a group of lacrosse guys (the sticks are a give-away) enter the store with a burst of noisy chatter, “I should never talk about any of this ever again.”

Kris sighs heavily, practically doubling over. Now who’s dramatic? “You’re so self-destructive,” they complain.

“Don’t be mean,” you say, going back to pouting.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kris waves a hand at you. “Go write a poem about it.”

“And what if I do?” you demand, but you’re both laughing now, unlocking the registers as the lacrosse dudes line up to pay for their snacks and drinks.

–

Taehyung texts you near the end of your shift - “we haven’t hung out in five billion years :(“.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and text back, “come get me from the bookstore then and hang out for a little”.

You’re pleased when he agrees. He shows up a little bit before closing, knocking on the already locked glass doors. You hurry to let him in, ignoring Kris staring knives into your back. 

“Hi,” you say happily as he slips into the store, and you lock the door again behind him. “I’ll be done in about four minutes.”

“‘Kay,” he says easily, striding over to the checkout counter and leaning against it. 

“Taehyung,” Kris greets him, nodding their head as they lock the register. “How’s it going?”

He sighs dramatically. “The usual. Classes. Parties. Trying to figure out why Y/N doesn’t love me anymore.”

You freeze halfway to the stockroom, your eyes wide, air catching in your throat. 

Luckily, Kris is and always has been way more slick than you. They cock their head quizzically, letting a playfully concerned frown settle over their features. 

“Y/N doesn’t love you anymore?” they echo, the poor baby pronounced in their tone. “What on earth do you mean?”

Taehyung shoots you a mischievous look; luckily, you’ve gotten your act together since he said those words. 

“I had to beg for her attention tonight,” he says, clearly loving this bit. “I’m beginning to think she has a secret boyfriend she’s not telling me about.”

He’s teasing and you know it, but after a lifetime of friendship with Taehyung, you know this too: there’s a little sliver of him that must be hurt, or at least bothered, or he wouldn’t tease at all.

You feel both caught - despite not having a secret boyfriend or anything like it - and guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I just got busy with my thesis and everything. I promise I’m not out with other people and not you. Even Kris only sees me at work these days.”

“And Namjoon,” Taehyung adds plaintively, and your blood runs cold.

“Namjoon?” you echo, not sure you can form a different word.

Taehyung’s pouting now, which means he’s not too serious. “Yeah, he has no choice, you’re in his living room every day.”

“Oh,” you say, relief flooding through you. “Yeah.”

You don’t see the point in telling Taehyung that there’s a teeny, tiny something starting with Namjoon. Not when it’s so… unformed, insubstantial, uncertain. You don’t know which word fits best. It’s a maybe at best, and it just doesn’t seem worth rocking the boat over it. 

What would happen if things started for real? Would you tell him? It shouldn’t have to be a secret… it shouldn’t stay a secret, not if you mean it. What would happen?

You’re afraid to know the answers. 

You finish up in the store and you all head to the parking lot together. You tell Kris goodbye and drop down into Taehyung’s passenger seat. 

“You’re gonna stay at the apartment for a little?” you ask. 

“Mhm,” he says, fiddling with the heat until he gets it how he wants it. “Can I work on homework with you?”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I have so much shit to do. I wasn’t kidding when I said school is eating my life. Senior year sucks.”

Taehyung isn’t looking at you - he’s watching the road as he waits for an opening in traffic so he can pull out of the parking lot. But something crosses his face - relief, maybe. Something softens, anyway. Maybe he really had been hurt that you hadn’t been hanging out as much.

When you return to the apartment, Namjoon isn’t home - his door hangs open, his bedroom completely dark. 

You and Taehyung settle in the living room, dragging out your laptops. It’s nice, hanging out like this again. You hadn’t realized how long it had been - over a week - since it had been just the two of you, like old times. Everything falls right into place. You swap snacks, hands brushing as you both reach into crinkling chip bags. You reach over and type nonsense into his paper when he isn’t paying attention, letting out peals of laughter when he figures it out and starts spluttering at you in outrage. You tell him about the customer at the store who argued with you over - of all the stupid things - a used copy of The Odyssey. 

When he hugs you goodbye at the end of the night, swaying you playfully back and forth like he might drop you, both of you giggling wildly, you’re reminded of just what the stakes are. You’re reminded of just how much you have to lose. 

<- Prev || Next ->

ahhhhh what do we think??!! there was hand holding!!!! are we clutching our pearls??!!!

as always thank you all so so so much for being here, i appreciate every one of you so extremely much!!!

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #bts fic #Namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #rm angst #rm smut #rm x reader #strangers to lovers #s2l #college au #roomie au #rm fic #fic: mffmhh #slow burn

[steviesbicrisis]

I

I saw the sweetest thing on Reddit some time ago and I need to share with you! It was a girl telling that her boyfriend got a brain lesion and got into a coma for a week, so when he woke up he had to learn how to speak correctly all over again. The doctor was doing an exercise with him and she was there to know how to make it at home, the doctor says a word and the guy has to give a synonym or a definition of it, so he says "happiness" and the boyfriend points at her and says her name, the doc says "no, that's not right" and the guy was pouting not know why it was incorrect. Can you imagine this with Steddie? Initially I thought this with Eddie being in a coma after the S4 events, but I came to think of Steve in the boyfriend place because of his many head injuries, thinking he got one very hard and was out like light.

This ask really got me 🥺🥺🥺

I think this would make more sense if this happened after an hypothetical final battle! So, Eddie survives S4, gets together with Steve, they defeat Vecna but Steve gets badly injured (shocking) and gets into a coma.

The situation would be very tense, Eddie would blame everyone (for letting Steve taking too many hits in the head in the past) then himself (for not being able to protect him).

Robin and Eddie can only be around each other while they wait for Steve to wake up. They argue over the smallest things, but also laugh just by looking at each other at random times of the day. By the fifth day of being best friends and archenemies back and forth, they mutually agree they’re going crazy.

The worst part is that, in order to stay by Steve’s side, Robin pretends to be his girlfriend and Eddie his cousin, so the doctors tell everything to Robin first - another reason for their arguments. She’s the one who takes care of Steve, Eddie is nothing.

When Steve finally wakes up, things get better. They’re able to see him right away, he seems confused and unable to speak properly, but an exchange of looks is enough for Eddie to understand that Steve remembers him, and that he’s glad they’re both alive.

Once again, the doctors explain to Robin that Steve will need to do speech therapy multiple times a week, and exercises at home once he will get discharged.

“I’ll do it!!” Eddie jumps in immediately.

“That is very nice of you” the doctor says, but he sounds unconvinced “but I’m sure Robin here would be a better fit. We need someone that Steve trusts deeply, this is a delicate situation.”

Eddie knows that the doctor his talking like this just because, in his eyes, Eddie is just a cousin and Robin is the girlfriend, the one Steve loves. Maybe it’s the tiredness, maybe it’s the weird competitive dynamic he has developed with Robin, but he feels useless. In the end, why would Steve need him when he has Robin? When Eddie was supposed to protect him and wasn’t able to.

“Oh no, I think Eddie would be a better fit” Robin replies, getting two pair of surprises eyes on her.

“What? It’s true! I have to work - you know, since Steve won’t be able to for a long time” she adds, to save the appearances “and he trusts Eddie, they’re extremely close.”

When they get out of the hospital that night, Eddie hugs her impossibly tight. They stop fighting after that.

The speech therapy is challenging, Steve gets frustrated easily and Eddie can’t blame him: the doctor is very strict with him, gives him the hardest exercises and, for someone who does it for a job, he has too little patience in his opinion.

“C’mon Steve, last one of the day” the doctor shows him one of his card “happiness. Give me a definition or a synonym.”

Sometimes it takes him a few seconds before he can answer, but this time Steve lights up and points immediately at Eddie, saying his name out loud.

The doctor sighs “no Steve, h-a-p-p-i-n-e-s-s. C’mon, I know you can do it!” He tries with a little encouragement.

Steve huffs, points again and says “Eddie!”

Eddie, after the initial surprise, has to look away to hide his watery eyes from the doctor.

He only turns back when he hears the doctor getting out of the room.

Steve is pouting and looking down at his feet. Eddie melts.

“You did great sweetheart, don’t worry” he dares to come close since they’re alone in the room.

Steve looks unconvinced, still pouting. Eddie can practically hear his self deprecating thoughts, he knows him well enough.

He notices the doctor left his cards on the table. He lifts up the ‘happiness’ one in front of Steve, giving him the time to read it.

Eddie points at him “Steve.”

Steve blinks a couple of times, stunned. Eddie waves the card, points at him once again “Steve,” he repeats, firm.

Now it’s time for Steve to have watery eyes.

#thank you for this ask #I’m still melting #sorry for taking so longs #I’ve had a couple of crazy days ahahah #ask me anything #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and eddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #platonic stobin #robin buckley

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Adrien really is in a no win situation. Regardless of who wins.

Like let’s say Gabriel wins. He gets his wish. Emilie’s back. Nathalie and everyone isn’t dying. But the world is altered and he probably gets mind wiped or something going back to his previous life of being controlled. Which really means he stuck as the “perfect” son and doesn’t get an ounce of true happiness. I don’t think his mother will stop the engagement to Kagami. So no free will stuck in a world of his fathers making. Pretty f***ed up.

Okay now let’s say ladybug and chat noir wins. Welp, Gabriel is dying and or going to prison. Nathalie’s still sick and His mom stays dead. Oh and he will probably find out he’s a sentimonster. Which all of those at once is a triple kick in the dick. That would also make Adrien suspect number one if anything s***y happened in Paris. Probably be sued by pissed of parisians. And if word got out that he was a sentimonster? Forget it, they’d try to burn him at the stake. Not ideal and Not even covering the mental crisis and imposter syndrome he’d be dealing with. This isn’t ideal but he does have his friends and his aunt. He might want to leave Paris for a while tho.

Then I guess the third option is where maybe Gabriel realizes he done goofed up, and he ends ups remorseful. He and ladybug come up with some sort of plan to use the wish to fix things making some weird hybrid result. He still dies but Emilie’s alive but he gets his “redemption through death”. Which would at least leave Adrien with a parent but also probably results in Adrien being kept in the dark about everything because he wouldn’t be okay with any of that. But that sounds worse than the first two because Adrien gets left in the dark and sort of glosses over a LOT of things including him being in a dynamic where once again people he loves are hiding sh*t from him. Oh and it basically excuses Gabriel’s abuse, so that’s also a no. Oh and since Adrien probably wouldn’t know, it means someone else is keeping his amok which just means well s***, someone is still controlling him.

The fourth option is that Adrien is involved and uses himself to save his parents and Paris. Wishing for a world where everyone he loves could be happy. This one would piss off EVERYONE (except the Adrien haters but they don’t matter) but establish Adrien as being the most human in the series. Also it ends the ship with him dead and leaves Marinette feeling awful, unless her memories get wiped.

Quite frankly their might be more scenarios, but each one seems to end s***y for Adrien. Only the second one giving Adrien some sort of autonomy

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml speculation #ml s***posts #I think the 2nd one is the best call #the others suck #sentitheory #senti!adrien

[blue-rose-soul]

Your last Devil’s Bastards post was so juicy! I’d never heard about heaven’s people having amnesia.

Now I can’t stop thinking about a pre-reveal scenario in which Nicaise somehow goes to visit the hotel and while she doesn’t recognize anyone, Alastor and Lucifer sure recognize her.

Hey, it could happen! I did set the stage for Nicaise to potentially become a fallen angel, no second death required.

Let's say it happens at some point after the thwarted extermination. Neither Lucifer nor Alastor know yet, but Alastor has some suspicions. When Nicaise is ejected from Heaven for revealing the exterminations to the public, encouraging people to go against Heaven's rules, and questioning the Seraphim, and then refusing to repent, she remembers Charlie Morningstar's hotel and heads there straight away.

Charlie's happy to see her again. Both Lucifer and Alastor are in shock, but since Alastor's perma-smile is still in place no one really notices his reaction. They're all a little wrapped up in the story Nicaise is telling them about how she ended up getting ejected from Heaven. Of course Charlie happily welcomes her into the hotel, and Vaggie's actually happy to have yet another fallen angel among them, to hear that Heaven may actually be reforming from within.

Then Lucifer steps forward and reintroduces himself. Everyone's more than a little surprised to learn that Lucifer and Nicaise have met before. Lucifer explains that whence upon a time he snuck out of Hell just for a little while to actually see Earth, and wound up lost in the middle of New Orleans during the Rex parade. Nicaise doesn't remember the event, so he tells her about how she saved him from being lost and basically acted as his guide throughout the celebration. They both got pretty wasted and he woke up the next morning passed out on top of somebody's rooftop, presumably from attempting to fly home while drunk. Everyone's laughing and having a good time as he recounts the story.

Alastor says nothing.

As Nicaise settles into the hotel crew and helps Charlie with her redemption project, Alastor initially tries to keep his distance, but over time everyone notices that Alastor is different with her. It's not too strange at first. He's always gotten along better with women than with men. But this is different. He almost has an air of respect with her, and he doesn't even respect the King of Hell! He's gentle, he never teases or intentionally scares her, though it turns out Nicaise has a bit of a prankster side of her own and thinks its funny when he spooks other hotel residents. He doesn't hide the fact that he's a serial murderer, or that he's a cannibal, but he does tone down the bloodthirstiness in her presence. His smile is more genuine around her.

Bit by bit, certain things come out about Alastor, more in the few short weeks Nicaise has been with them than anyone's learned in the 6+ months of living with Alastor. Things he and Nicaise share in common. They both grew up in New Orleans, they like to use venison in their jambalaya, play several of the same instruments, have the same taste in liquor, hate tea. They even died within a couple decades of one another. Nicaise wonders if they might have even met one another while alive. Alastor only says he supposes it's possible.

Lucifer, for his part, is delighted to reunite with an old friend. Alastor does not enjoy Lucifer enjoying her company. He compels Husk to interrupt the two of them if he ever sees them getting too 'close.' Encourages Niffty to get under Lucifer's feet. Has his shadows trip Lucifer up, or spill his drinks when he's talking with Nicaise. Lucifer knows it's all Alastor's doing and assumes Alastor's just being a shit again.

"What, you failed to steal my daughter, now you're trying to steal my vacation friend!?"

Husk is the first one to put two and two together. He doesn't figure out everything, but he knows Alastor well enough to know his interest in Nicaise isn't romantic, and to pick up on the familial similarities. He keeps his mouth shut though. The memory of what happened last time he dredged up one of Alastor's secrets still sets his fur on edge. Still, in private he lets himself chuckle over the fact that Alastor is a 'mamma's boy.'

Eventually though, other people start to pick up on Alastor's weird behavior. When Nicaise scolds him for 'picking on' Lucifer - and WOW is it weird to see Alastor letting himself be scolded - Alastor points out to her that Lucifer is a married man. That does put a bit of a damper on Lucifer's and Nicaise's interactions. They weren't intentionally flirting or anything, but Lucifer wonders if maybe he was getting a tad too comfortable. He and Lilith ARE separated (at least, according to Charlie) but he still hopes to one day reconcile with her. And now that Alastor's brought it to her attention, Charlie's starting to feel just a tad uncomfortable with Lucifer's and Nicaise's closeness as well. Just a tad though! She does want her dad to be happy, and he and Lilith are separated...

Privately, she still thinks it feels like a betrayal though.

And it's that feeling that allows Charlie to put things together, and she's a hell of a lot less subtle than Husk is.

There are people hanging out at the bar when she walks up to Alastor in the parlor and blurts out, "ALASTOR, IS NICAISE YOUR SISTER!?"

It came out a lot louder than she meant it.

Lucifer chokes on his drink.

In Charlie's defense, he and Nicaise appear to be close to the same physical age in their demon and angel forms. If anything, Nicaise might have been younger when she died than Alastor was when he died.

Alastor reassures Charlie that, no, Nicaise is not his sister.

Lucifer relaxes and starts to chug his drink to get that terrifying thought out of his head.

"She's my maman."

Lucifer chokes again.

Fortunately Nicaise isn't present for this conversation. Charlie asks why Alastor hadn't said anything before now and he explains he doesn't see any reason to. Once they get her back into Heaven, they'll never see one another again, so why burden her with the knowledge that her son grew to be a mass murderer in life and a cannibalistic Overlord in death? While he may not regret any of his actions, he knows she would be heartbroken by the revelation.

Angel Dust breaks up the sullen mood that's fallen over the room by cracking a joke that, 'the devil wants to do your mom.'

He immediately gets several sets of angry eyes on him, including beast mode Alastor, and shuts up very quickly.

#ask #anonymous #Hazbin Hotel #the Devil's Bastard AU #Alastor #Alastor's Mother #Nicaise (Hazbin Hotel OC) #Lucifer Morningstar #Charlie Morningstar #whew that got long #I was gonna go into them learning that Luci is Al's dad too #but I'll probably save that for another post after all that #the reason Alastor out and admitted Nicaise is his mother in the end when he kept quiet before #is because Charlie had already come so close to the truth on her own #it was only a matter of time before everyone else figured it out #also he's lowkey pissed that Nicaise was rejected from Heaven because now he has an exploitable weakness in Hell #and he's not willing to get rid of her or let her get hurt in order to remove this weakness

[happy74827]

Contagiously Human.

[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Killing was always the easiest part for him, but this… you… well, as fate would have it, that created a new problem for him. {GIF Creds: brothermoser}

WC: 1881

Category: Plot-Driven, Maybe Some Fluff/Angst…?

Someone asked me if I’d ever thought about writing Biney… and well, I decided to put my thought into actual words 🤷‍♀️

Just for some minor clarification, this is pretty much a “what if” fic in which Dexter does not end his life. This being said, I picture this taking place around season 5-6 ish.

『••✎••』

Hesitation.

The thing that makes or breaks a killer. The line that separates predator from prey. It's the pause between life and death, the time a man takes to make the decision, and whether he'll live to regret it or not.

He’s never had hesitation. Not once. In fact, he relishes in it; he finds peace in knowing that he can decide one way or another and be content with either outcome. It makes him a dangerous man, unpredictable, a ticking time bomb.

His baby brother, his blood, had the disease. The disease of being too much of a good person, feeling guilt, having morals, a sense of what's right and wrong. He was weak, he hesitated, and he wasn’t even aware of how much the disease was eating him alive until that Trinity Killer came around.

He was supposed to protect his brother, save him from himself, and show him the proper way of things. The way of survival. Of the hunt. But no, Brian wasn’t there to catch him. To stop him.

So, as all good brothers do, he’s here to fix him. To set him straight and rid him of the disease. Forever.

It's an easy task, really. His little brother is so trusting and caring that he'd do anything for the ones he loved. Why not start by showing him why he shouldn't?

Because clearly, the loss of his apparent wife wasn’t enough. He needed to understand, truly and absolutely, that the world would only disappoint him. It's a harsh lesson but a necessary one.

So, that led him to you. His brother’s friend from school. The woman, aside from Dexter’s poor excuse for a sister, that his brother actually cared about.

Just like him, you were naive. Trusting, too. Friendly to everyone, completely unaware of the monsters that hid in the shadows. His brother included.

You might’ve never killed someone, but with everything else, it was clear why his brother was so interested in you. He always loved the innocent ones.

So, the question was, how would he go about it? He could take you somewhere, but the element of surprise was an important factor. You had to believe you were safe and comfortable before he could make his move.

A Debra repeat? Or a more... Unique approach. He'd think about it, plan it out, and strike at the perfect moment.

He wouldn’t hesitate, after all.

When the day presented itself, the stars had aligned, and everything was just right; he made his move. It was noon, a warm Sunday.

You were in your little bookshop, reading one of the books in your free time. Business had been slow today, as most people were enjoying the weather.

You never saw him coming. He was the type to blend into the crowd, the type that you'd see once and forget about. The type you'd pass on the street without a second thought.

He had his ways, of course, and his way was simple. A simple, kind greeting. One that had your eyes lighting up as if you'd never seen another person before.

He was charming, handsome, the perfect man to lure you in. You didn’t stand a chance.

That's what led him here, picking up your fallen book and handing it to you, watching the smile that graced your lips.

A romance novel, of course. How ironic.

"Oh, uh, thank you. That’s very kind."

You smiled, a hint of blush dusting your cheeks. Far more tame than that Debra woman, thankfully. He didn’t have to fight back the urge to roll his eyes.

"Tea and romance? Can’t say I blame you." He pulled a gentle grin, one that had you blushing further, more so of embarrassment this time.

"It's the first of a series. A favorite, actually, I’ve been rereading it." You explained, holding the book to your chest. He didn’t miss the way your thumb rubbed over the spine, fond and gentle.

Just from that, he knew. He was going to have fun with you. “Believe it or not, I read the first one too. A few months ago, actually. It was quite the page-turner. The ending had me on the edge of my seat, I swear."

You laughed, soft and airy, and for a moment, he found himself smiling genuinely. His lie was working, and he couldn’t believe it was that easy.

"I've only heard mixed reviews on it.” You spoke, moving to place the book back on the shelf. "I'm glad to hear you liked it. Marienne’s death was hard, wasn't it?"

"Very." He agreed though it was a lie. He had to pretend he cared. "It was a shame; I really enjoyed the character."

"You did?" You raised a brow, surprised. “Most people didn’t. Given that she doesn’t even exist.”

Shit.

He cleared his throat, a slight pause. He was so blinded by the idea of finally getting to his brother that he'd forgotten.

You were a reader, an author; of course, you would know the ins and outs of the story. The characters, the plot, and every little detail. Why would you not?

First rule of hunting. Don’t get cocky.

"Alright, I admit. I've been caught." He gave a small shrug, his voice holding a hint of sheepishness. Maybe you’d fall for it. “I couldn’t help myself; I figured you wouldn’t appreciate my love for fantasy books."

"Fantasy?" You tilted your head, and he knew. You bought it. You were a sucker for fantasy; you didn't like it when others looked down on them.

"I'm a bit of a nerd. Guilty pleasure."

"I didn’t peg you for the fantasy type…” You raised your eyebrow, though a smile still rested on your lips—a look of amusement.

"Really? Most people can't seem to look past the collared shirt.

"No, it's not that. It's your aura." You shook your head, and now, it was his turn to raise his brow. What the hell did that mean?

"My aura?"

"Those books in your hands..” You nodded towards his bag, a small smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. "You're definitely not a casual reader. My guess is everything in there is a throwaway.”

"And that means...?"

"You're bullshit through and through. You don't like romance or fantasy. In fact, I think you absolutely hate it."

Oh. Oh, you clever thing. Now, he truly understood why his brother connected with you so much. You'd figured him out, and yet, you had no clue. You were clever, smarter than you let on.

"Alright,” He held his hands up in mock surrender. He was enjoying this; for once, someone could see through his façade. See his true self. It was a rush.

“If you’re so smart, what do I like then?"

"Hmm, let's see...” And just like that, you were off with him in tow. You were taking him along on a trip through the shelves, looking through the genres, searching and searching.

He was intrigued, his eyes locked on you, his ears drinking in the sound of your hums and contemplation. Your mind was running, spinning, thinking. You were truly in your element.

"Well, let's start with what I know. You like horror." You said, turning towards the horror section and picking up a book. "You seem like the type who enjoys the dark side of humanity and likes to see the bad guy win."

Damn.

He was almost impressed. Almost.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Eyes. They tell the most about a person. You’ve seen a lot, and it shows. I could tell just by looking at you. Your eyes are... Cold. Empty." You said, and it was then that he realized you were more observant than you appeared. Naivety might’ve not been a part of your personality, but trust was. You trusted a lot. Too much. “Are you a cop, by chance? You've got the whole detective thing going on."

"Prosthetist, actually." He answered, his hand reaching out and picking up a book at random. He wasn't a fan of fiction, not really. He preferred nonfiction; it was more realistic—less pointless details.

"Oh, wow, I was completely off. I didn’t expect that." You mused, looking up at him with those eyes. You had such an expressive face; it was amazing how easy you were to read. He could practically see the gears turning. How could he use this?

"Expected an axe murderer, did you?" He joked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe. Wouldn’t that be a twist?" You grinned a glint of amusement in your eye. “Speaking of, that’s probably what you like. Thrillers. Those kinds of stories are full of twists and turns. No one is who they appear to be. Kinda like you, hm?"

"Ouch."

"Sorry, am I being too honest?"

"No, I like it. Keep going." He was having fun. With Debra, it was exhausting. She was so stubborn, so headstrong, she never listened. It took him about three coffees just to have enough patience to deal with her sob story.

But with you, you were a breath of fresh air. He didn’t have to force himself awake or hide his boredom. He could just enjoy it, relish in the moment, and the fact that you were so easy to play with.

You pulled out three books: two thrillers and one horror. A classic and a new one. "These are what I recommend. Start with Primal Fear; that’s the one I believe you'll like the most. The first one might take you a while, but if you stick with it, the sequel will be worth it.

He reached forward, his hand brushing over yours, his touch lingering as he took the book. He purposely brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, just enough for a spark to go through your veins.

He saw the way your breath hitched, and he smirked. This was too easy.

"Thank you, you've been a great help."

"One more thing before you go." You spoke, stopping him. His eyes moved up from the book to your own, and there he saw something that made him falter.

Something that made him freeze longer than he should have.

You had a fire behind those eyes. A flame that burned with a passion, a curiosity that threatened to eat him alive. A want, a need, to get into his head. To peel him open and look inside.

Your eyes weren't cold or empty like his. They were alive. Full of life.

"Books don’t impress women,” Your voice was low, a secret, something meant only for him to hear. “It’s the passion that opens their hearts. You have nothing if you can't show it."

"I think I've misjudged you." He spoke, his hand resting on the shelf above your head. He had no choice but to lean closer, and he felt the way your breath fanned across his skin.

"Oh?"

"Yes. You're a lot more than you appear, aren’t you?"

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

The question was left unanswered. He didn't give a response because, in truth, he didn't know.

He left that day not with his brother’s cure or even the thought of him. He left with three books.

Three books and the disease he believed to be immune to…

Hesitation.

[@numetalnerd2007] Since you asked, I figured this would automatically mean you were interested. At least I hope you were 💀

That being said, please be nice to me for this one since it’s my first time writing for Biney here (and I haven’t rewatched season 1 in forever), so his character probably isn’t 100% solid. It’s a work in progress 🙏✨

Also, for all my Joe Goldberg fans out there, did you catch the reference I made? I see a slight resemblance between Brian and Joe, so I wanted to sneak it in a little something. I think it’s the hair, honestly.

#brian moser #brian moser x reader #brian moser x female!reader #dexter morgan x reader #dexter x reader #also why did I just find out this man was in twilight #brian moser/reader #rudy cooper x reader #christian camargo #brian moser imagine #rudy cooper #ice truck killer #rudy cooper/reader #rudy cooper imagine #dexter fanfiction #dexter fandom #x reader #fanfic #reader #christian camargo x reader #slasher fandom #dexter s1 #fanfiction #slasher fic #dexter morgan/reader #dexter morgan imagine #dexter imagine #dexter tv series #dexter #ice truck killer x reader

[gla55t33th]

anymore angel vox? :3 how does he interact with other characters! /nf!

i am currently in Sketch Hell as i would describe it so ill be reblogging later when i can Draw but. Ramble under the cut

Firstoff i made the design because of a handful of fics which i read and stupidly forgot to save . Namely the one where he died for alastor, angelic interference, and the one where they made a fuckup on the books. (Ill get back when i find their names) . I just wanted to make the design for the sake of it and try to make his looks fit heaven and also my interpretation of vox, so hes intended to look almost like a character youd see on an old tv show but a bit more suave. I also wanted a space age head because i mean thats The Period of innovation and while there were certainly similar designs while he was alive its more symbolic of progress than actual progress. Then my brain started doing its thing and when i start thinking about anything for more than five seconds i get a bunch of pins and red string and become a full blown theorist who needs to connect everything to worldbuilding or ill die

so. I started a fic and if you find it you find it :]

ANYWAY! CLAPS MY HANDS

my angel vox.

Point the first! this isnt a vox goes straight to heaven, its canon divergence. Vox dies, goes to hell, and at the peak of his messy hell career he dies again and goes to heaven. Vox is not redeemed.

2. Vox is powerless. Heaven equalises people. It has rules, a lot of rules, and these are sown straight into their reality which cant be broken. He does however have free will and a silver tongue.

3. I think vox and sera would get along surprisingly well when it came to it. Sera is a 'tough love' sort of character, and does believe shes doing good in spite of it all, and is willing to do lesser evils. Vox cares about nothing but numbers and outcomes. This means that if they share a goal a lot of their approaches would also be shared, and i think theyd be fond of that.

4. Vox despises heaven. Just the fundamental concept of it. He does enjoy a struggle and he does enjoy pain, thats the point of being alive to him. Or well. dead. Its an uphill battle but its his uphill battle to fight. Also he just needs something to keep him occupied at all given times or he might just snap #adhd

4a. He also hates the residents, mostly because of very well earned trust issues how its not fun to talk to any of them. They just say whatever theyre thinking, no song and dance, no fine print, and vox loves fine print and searching for hidden meanings.

5. Emily is nice and almost tolerable but he would absolutely throw her off a bridge if it benefited him without second thought. He hates how much of a bleeding heart she is, but that seems to be a trait of everyone up there

6. Vox's relationship with himself is a complex mess. It always has been and heaven made it worse. Not only did it revert his body to how it was when he first fell but Angel Edition, hes barely mechanical anymore- and while being a good part machine was all part of hells punishment at the start for various psyche reasons (as well as how inconvenient it was) he had grown to worship and love his inorganic nature, and how much better it was than his faulty body . I have headcanons about that but that falls under spoiler territory for Said Fic. But heaven handing him back his flesh and blood is a massive massive violation of his boundaries and the moment he stops and actually starts thinking about what the hell has happened hes gonna break

7. The vees think vox is dead dead. Angel!vox would... have a strained relationship if he were to meet like that. On one hand, hes vox! Their vox! But like this he can't be his usual overlord self and while he trusts them enough to view them as friends, he wouldn't be able to face them as partners like this; business or otherwise. Hes horribly powerless and they need him on his A game.

8. Alastor (angel!vox punches the ground and eats drywall)

#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #Vox #Does this make sense? WHO KNOWS! SLEEP DEPRIVED RAMBLINGS OF AN AUTIST

[frosty-the-killer-doll]

What are your opinions/headcanon’s on Olivarry? Also your Arrowverse polycule Au is so cool!

thank you, i know it 💅

opinion? love it. barry being a nerd for ollie and his many vigilante codenames before he even knew the guy? barry finding out that asshole playboy famously saved from a shipwreck after a supposed 5 years on some fuckin island oliver queen is his hero? such a broken pedestal/death of a hero moment. and then this fucking dweeb oliver met once going into a coma? felicity and oliver quietly worrying about him? delicious. and then said dweeb gets superpowers and becomes a superhero right after waking up from the coma. what the fuck.

i mean, oliver is to thank for barry taking "the flash" as his name. oliver is to thank for barry becoming a superhero. oliver is to thank for barry being alive. oliver broke that pedestal and rebuilt it with his own two hands- bloody, damned hands- before barry's very eyes. they disagree, they fight, they butt heads, but they always believe in each other. barry sticks up for oliver, oliver sticks up for barry, so on and so forth.

oliver believes barry is 1/2 of "the best of us." whether oliver's talking about our arrowverse heroes or creatures in general is never established. oliver believes that barry can inspire things in a way he cannot. oliver believes in barry more than he believes in himself and because of that, barry trusts oliver with every cell in his body. because he's barry allen. and he's oliver queen. and that's all they need.

faggot behavior honestly

in the polycule au, they are married in crisis on earth x. they first officially start dating around the flash s3 and arrow s5, and that's when olicity finally join the big polycule. olivarry marry smoakwest as a complete quad officiated by dig, spontaneously as was their canon one-way marriages

in emerald archer, barry appears in the documentary episode so barry has been seen enough with oliver that ollie's fans/paparazzi know they're friends. before people know that they're polyam and fucking married, there's online theories that barry is oliver's secret boyfriend and felicity's his beard. there's ship art of their civilian identities and everything.

everyone got quite pissy when barry was spotted kissing iris- yknow, his girlfriend. and then everyone was even more mad and confused when barry was spotted also kissing cisco, ralph, patty, linda, kara, felicity... whAT is the TRUTH?? for some reason only a very few amount of oliver fans theorize that a polyamory is happening

there's also ship art of their vigilante identities, yippee. sometimes barry reads flarrow rpf out loud to him. oliver gets mad at smut fics the most. in his own words, "the green arrow isn't a sub! or a bottom!"

hard to lie about how much you sub/bottom to your husband that you have had sex with multiple times, but, hey, you do you, oliver

also do you guys remember when sara lance said "you deserve someone better, someone who can harness that light that's still inside of you" to oliver and then oliver saying "why i sacrificed myself for you, so that in all of this darkness, you could be a guiding light, a hero" to barry? ha. i fucking do. i sure remember that one. that's why to me oliver has so many light-related pet names for b, such as; sunshine, sunlight, sunny, lightning bug, firefly, supernova etc etc. oliver also has ones in russian that he generally refuses to teach barry what they mean, like; zaychik (meaning little rabbit), moya lyubov' (my love), solnyshko (little sun)...

barry loves oliver's cooking so much it's unreal. oliver regularly sends him home-cooked meals and makes sure barry's fridge is filled to the brim with his food if oliver knows they won't be able to see each other for a bit. the second thing oliver does every time he sees barry is offer him food.

the first thing is, of course, kissing him until he can't breathe

to get nsfw with it oliver very much likes when barry speed-fucks him, especially when oliver is not in flash time. one second barry is fully clothed across the room and the next barry's on him and oliver's suddenly cumming.

^ obvi they had talks abt this before they ever did it, talking abt sex stuff when ur bf is a speedster is very much needed. that bitch vibrates if he gets too excited!!

they both have survivors' guilt and other ptsd, so, sometimes one of them just... shows up at the other's house, distant and achingly quiet, and the other just sits with them and holds them and it's all so silent and when they leave they never mention it again.

okay that's all i got rn GOODBYE FOREVER!!!!!!!! 🫡

#frosty answers #arrowverse asks #arrowverse polycule au #olivarry #barry allen #oliver queen #the flash #the flash cw #cw the flash #arrow #arrow cw #cw arrow