#He gets catharsis through his twin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

minkdelovely · 1 month

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catharsis

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“we are more

than our disguises,

we are more

than just the pain.”

Alastor x Lucifer ; RadioApple ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: angst (w/a happy ending), established relationship, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions/allusions of abuse, mentions of death from illness, sexual content (biting, blood/blood play, kissing, palming)

word count: 2.5k

author’s note: guess who’s writing angst again?? this kinda hit me out of nowhere, but is fully inspired by @sunlit-mess / SOL 1 x 1 (on twitter) recent works (linked HERE and HERE) with alastor seeking luci’s comfort. seeing these back-to-back just set something off in my mind and i couldn’t rest until it was out. a special thanks and shoutout to our darling @fraugwinska for helping me get a title on this baby — without her y’all would have been reading ‘untitled’ 😂💖 quote is from twin flame by weyes blood. without further ado, buckle up and dive in; i hope you enjoy 😌 (also posted on my ao3 if that’s your preference)

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It was surprising, even to himself.

Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he had cried, much less in front of a witness. Composure and a display of strength were hard-won attributes he had built upon himself. Each unpleasant memory in his mind was a brick in his fortification; the tears he denied himself to shed the mortar between them.

He hadn’t always followed his own code of conduct and taken the ugliness of life on the chin. Before he had found his own strength, he could admit to being swayed by the will of others. Alastor found words to be harsher than the switch and was more than familiar with the sting of both. Though the switch was a boy’s punishment… A closed fist was more suitable for raising a man.

Or so his father had thought.

Mama’s boy… Just my luck. I got me a mama’s boy... C’mere you little pansy!

The repulsion in his father’s words hadn’t lost any of its potency, even after all this time. Alastor recalled them with more clarity than the face of the man they came from, which only served to plunge him further in his despair. Hadn’t he proven his resilience? Not only in body, but in mind and spirit? Perhaps not as much as he thought, with the way he was sobbing. If his father could see him now — bereft of stoicism and drenched in tears, drool, and mucus — he’d have been absolutely disgusted. Alastor loathed how much that bothered him. The fear of inadequacy lurching in his gut like a bad tonic.

Hot, angry tears flowed down the streaks that shame had carved on his face. Not that Lucifer would be able tell the difference with the way Alastor had burrowed into his chest. It was merely a fresh bout for the candy-striped vest to soak up. The saline fabric was beginning to chafe Alastor’s face, but he didn’t feel ready to surface; arms tightening around his lover’s waist as his hands gripped Lucifer with a desperation he assumed was buried long ago with his innocence.

Stop hidin’ behind your mama and come take your whoopin’ like a man!

Alastor choked on another sob and gasped for breath, heaving in Lucifer’s arms as the angel held him firmly. Gloved hands petting red hair and anguished, downcast ears. Hushed words of comfort spoken into the crown of Alastor’s head to soothe in tandem as they both shook from the force of the demon’s sorrow.

“I’ve got you. Shh, honey, I’ve got you.”

So much love conveyed in so few words. Alastor still grappled with accepting it. Evidenced by more tears fighting their way through his clenched eyes and a muffled, heart-wrenching cry into Lucifer’s chest. The pain of it went straight through the King’s heart as he pressed a firm kiss to Alastor’s head, feeling the distress on his face as he did so. How he wished to unburden the demon of his suffering. More than anyone, Lucifer could understand what it was like to be wracked with such melancholy.

If only Alastor could remember what had set him off, if he had, in fact, been triggered at all. He had just woken up this morning feeling low. Why was he dwelling so much on things that were better left to the past? Unbeknownst to either of them, they were sharing the same thought. And both knew that dwelling on things that couldn’t be changed did nothing other than inflict harm. Must they be plagued by the ignorance and rejection of their fathers for eternity? The cost of the scorn they’d endured seemed to grow ever higher some days.

That was one of the first things they had bonded over, sharing self-deprecating laughter to hide from their aching wounds. When love is built on a foundation of hurt, it’s only a matter of time before the walls crumble. Most times they were Lucifer’s, and sad as it was, it felt much easier to navigate. The angel was much more comfortable wearing his feelings, after all, and he’d had millennia of experience weathering his storms. Alastor was no stranger to being the shoulder to cry on. If anything, it came to him too naturally; a trait he couldn’t be sure was born in him or a side-effect of the wall he had built.

When Alastor buckled under the weight of his grief, it was devastating. He repressed himself for such long bouts of time that the force of his woe had the impact of an avalanche. Sadness, anger, shame, and regret cascading through his lithe frame until he was utterly hollowed out. Lucifer’s task of mending him was only beginning, he knew. It would be days before Alastor returned to himself, but he was more than willing to put in the work. Stitching his love back together with his needle of assurance and thread of devotion.

It was impossible to tell how long they spent this way. Alastor kneeling on the floor between Lucifer’s legs, knees sore and body aching, face still smothered in the drenched clothes donning the angel’s chest. Lucifer on the sofa in their bedroom, comforting the demon with every ounce of strength he could muster.

Until finally the tears stopped, replaced with uneven, sometimes stuttering breaths and hiccups. And soon enough those were gone too. Lucifer’s right hand rubbing Alastor’s back as his left cradled Alastor’s head. Before long, the demon was stirring. Sniffling a bit as he nuzzled his face into the mess of fluids he had left on the King’s vest and shirt. Lucifer didn’t mind, knowing that he could have it all gone with a snap of his fingers, but it wouldn’t do any good for Alastor to try wiping his face on his clothes in the state they were in.

“Let me clean your face, love. You’ll get a rash if you stay there,” Lucifer chided softly, manifesting a warm, damp handkerchief as he bent down to kiss Alastor's forehead for good measure.

It wasn’t a very convincing threat, both of them knowing that if Alastor did suffer a rash Lucifer would heal it in an instant. But Alastor conceded, and gingerly peeled himself away from the safety of the angel’s chest. His poor face was raw from tears, eyelids chapped red with irritation; dried salt crusted his cheeks like the vestiges of sea foam on the shore.

Alastor knew he looked awful. He could see himself reflected in Lucifer’s eyes proving as much. Every bit of moisture his body had was soaked into Lucifer’s chest, and he could feel the headache promised by dehydration blooming in his forehead. He was wrung out and exhausted but nearly began crying again, too moved by the tender act as Lucifer gently wiped his face. His Sire hushed him, voice calm and gaze full of adoration. Not even bothering to clean himself up before ensuring that Alastor was taken care of first.

The swell of affection Alastor felt in that moment was overwhelming, and he swallowed thickly as he closed his eyes, succumbing to the comfort of his lover’s hands tending to him. His father’s cruel words fading into darkness with every soft swipe of the warm cloth.

You’ll find someone special someday, mon amour.

Alastor was grateful for his mother’s memory, and wondered — not for the first time — what she would think of Lucifer. She had been a God-fearing woman, after all. A fear that she did not pass down to her son, choice of partner aside. He had turned his back on God long before his eyes had set their sight on the fallen angel. If she could see him from Heaven, he hoped that she would be happy. The Devil wasn’t all he was made out to be, if the way he cherished Alastor wasn’t proof enough.

His mother never pestered him about settling down, but worried for him deeply when they realized that she was sick and wouldn’t be getting better. Alastor was self-sufficient by then, with a year of working at the local radio station under his belt. Not that he didn’t take her concern to heart. If anything, when it came to her, he took things all too seriously. He wasn’t weighed down by the need for partnership or marriage, especially not when his career still had traction to gain. Alastor would try to tell her as much, assure her that she had nothing to worry about, and they would drop the subject and speak of other things. But he never left the sanatorium without receiving her prayers; his large, warm hands looking almost comical in her frail, cold grasp. Her hold on him was as fervent as the words and wishes she spoke to someone Alastor knew wasn’t listening. Though that didn’t make the act any less sincere or appreciated.

It was a brand of care Alastor thought he would never know again after his mother finally succumbed to her illness. The near-decade that passed after this had only cemented that fact. He didn’t seek companionship nor did he deny it when the mood struck. But beyond his small circle of friends, Alastor was content with his solitary life. Besides, a partner or spouse would have only made his nighttime affairs much harder to juggle — if not damn near impossible — and having the reputation of an elusive bachelor only helped with his fan base when it came to his radio segment.

It wasn’t until Lucifer had broken through his defenses that Alastor understood how he had barricaded himself from the world. And that he wanted support and comfort and understanding more than he cared to admit.

There are things you need that you can’t take care of on your own.

Basked in the warmth of Lucifer’s affection and his mother’s memory, Alastor hummed and opened his eyes, a tired smile curling his lips. Lucifer smiled back at him, expression benevolent and soft as his hands found their way back into Alastor’s hair to resume their petting. And grateful as he was, Alastor couldn’t ignore that Lucifer had yet to address the mess setting into his clothes. He fought against the pain as he uncurled his fingers, stiff from the grip on Lucifer’s waist, and silently began unbuttoning the candy-striped vest he had come to adore as the angel’s signature.

“Hey, you don’t have to —”

Alastor stopped him with a kiss, his fingers continuing their work as Lucifer sighed against his lips. The tension in both their bodies deflating as they shared hungry pecks and inhaled each other’s breath. All the while, Alastor’s hands remained busy with the undoing of buttons. First on the vest, then on the white shirt beneath it. Each open button providing relief like the snapping of a taut string.

Perhaps it was the musician in Alastor subconsciously rising to the task, but Lucifer would never cease to be caught flat-footed by the demon’s impeccable timing. How Alastor’s fingers managed to perfectly sync with his kisses was a feat Lucifer could only describe as divine. As if the acts were always meant to be one, never separate. It made the golden blood in his body turn molten; roiling through his veins as he sighed and chased every touch with relish. He was not often given these affections without needing to ask, whether with a look or an outright plea. Games that Lucifer was content to play, knowing that anticipation and a good tease left them both more than satiated.

With the collar of Lucifer’s shirt loosened, Alastor straightened his back and bent his neck to suckle and kiss down the angel’s pristine throat. The demon took his time with this, hoping to convey his gratitude and desire with every press of his lips against the milky skin beneath them. When Alastor made it to the junction between neck and shoulder, he was unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in; the flesh yielding to his fangs like a ripened peach, and the nectar that soon coated his tongue was a gift in itself.

Lucifer hissed through the bite, hips jerking in space between them as Alastor groaned and languidly sucked and licked the blood rising from the wound. With his hands free from buttons, Alastor let them explore. How he adored the feeling of Lucifer’s small frame beneath them. Endlessly fascinated by the twitches and sounds he could elicit from the angel with little more than the slightest drag of his claws against sensitive skin.

Alastor released himself from Lucifer’s neck with a salacious pop and licked his lips for good measure. The whine that escaped Lucifer from the action had Alastor’s ears and groin at attention. The low creaking sound of antlers branching out mingled with their shallow breath. Alastor’s crimson eyes drank in the almost bashful look on Lucifer’s face, accented by a golden flush that made his abdomen tight with hunger.

How lucky he was, truly.

The silver lining of Lucifer’s descent was heavily in Alastor’s favor. Had Lucifer remained God’s favorite, he’d be in Heaven — a place Alastor had never planned to be. In truth, he never intended to be in Hell either, which is where luck came into play. He wasn’t destined for mortal companionship, but for something transcendent. Not a god to worship, but a sin. A king.

An angel.

“I’m unworthy of your benevolence,” Alastor lamented, desperately kissing and kneading the supple skin of Lucifer’s chest. “But I’m devoted to you, always.”

It was a sentiment he had expressed before, feeling much like Mary Magdalene washing Jesus’ feet with her tears. But it made Lucifer’s heart jump all the same; its rapid beat calling to Alastor like a siren from under skin and bone as his teeth latched to Lucifer’s breast. Their pleasured moans harmonized as Lucifer cupped the back of Alastor's head, encouraging him to continue with a whisper of his name. Alastor happily obliged. Tongue lapping at the pert nipple, hot and fervent, as his mouth and teeth provided a deliciously sharp suction, drawing out the ambrosia in Lucifer’s veins.

Lucifer struggled to remain cognisant, lost and overwhelmed as Alastor’s mouth peppered a trail of kisses from right to left. Alastor shifted slightly between Lucifer’s legs as teeth sunk into the top of his left pectoral just as Alastor’s left hand palmed his groin. The wanton cry that echoed off the walls of their bedroom only served to make Alastor desperate for more. Eagerly succumbing to his need to worship the angel, the agony he had suffered earlier behind him but not forgotten.

An offering of gratitude and declaration of fidelity in a language they shared when words failed. When adoration was beyond articulation and the only thing strong enough to quell their aching hearts was propinquity. The evening had started with Alastor falling apart in Lucifer’s lap… but it would end with Lucifer falling apart in Alastor’s hands.

And they would wake in the morning with tangled hair in wrinkled sheets. Sharing hushed jokes and lazy kisses as the early morning sun colored their room in a hazy, pink glow.

Healing each other one day at a time.

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tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @hyperfixations-keep-me-going, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts, @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @littlebluefishtail, @hazelfoureyes, @sugoi-writes, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear

#alastor x lucifer #alastor x lucifer angst #radioapple #radioapple angst #radioapple fan fiction #radioapple fanfic #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor x lucifer fan fiction

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glowinggator · 6 months

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Nicodeme Savoy/Reader (Pining, Drabble) -- In which you fall asleep in the back of the car, and Nico thinks about how much you mean to him.

Content Warnings: Brief, nonspecific comic spoilers (iykyk), and 1 paragraph on scarification. Not detailed, but it's there.

Names get around easy in the underground — it’s important to know the key players of every operation, lest you get mixed up in the wrong business. But some names are more infamous than others. First for their proficiency, then for their brutality. And some names, such as that of one Nicodeme Savoy, carry a weight that few would care to invoke by speaking it outloud. But that doesn’t mean people don’t make their own assumptions, or gossip in the dark.

“He’s some sort of sadist,” they say, “Brawling type, wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath.”

And for most points, Nico isn’t too keen on refuting them. There’s a part of him that enjoys the aire of mystery, of fear, that surrounds him. Plus, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the adrenaline of a good fight, or the rewarding catharsis of blood on his knuckles when he inevitably wins. But that isn’t the only thing that he likes.

They never talk about his love of spicy food, or a well-made Old Fashioned. They certainly never talk about how he likes to dance, or watch the fireflies flicker over the water at night. And nobody would ever be caught dead talking about how much he likes you.

The slow rise and fall of your shoulders is subtle, hardly even visible in the rear view mirror with the dim moonlight that filters through the windows, and yet it’s nothing if not captivating. Your parted lips and relaxed form burn themselves into his memory as his eyes bounce back and forth between your reflection and the road ahead.

You were exhausted, to say the least. All three of you were, really — your last target had necessitated a chase by foot, and while the three of you normally wouldn’t mind such a thing, the man had given you a, quite literal, run for your money.

His last minute backup hadn’t been expected, either.

And thus, what should have been an hour long joyride soon turned into a day long hunt — he’s sure that if Mordecai had been here he would have called off the operation, or suggested some new angle of attack. He scoffs to himself internally — sure, it would have saved them some time if it worked out, but where’s the fun in that? All work and no play, he is. Hard to imagine he's survived this long without blurring the lines, but hey, who is he to judge?

Nico glances at you again, nestled into the side of the car. Your arms twist around yourself comfortingly as you curl into the plush of your jacket, and you’d somehow managed to twist yourself to outstretch your legs across the bench. (Which would have never happened either, if Mordecai had been here. So again, he counts his absence tonight as a win.Leblanc will have to forgive him, for that.)

You seem peaceful — peaceful in a way that, with your gun now long discarded and forgotten — that it’s easy to forget how your hands were stained with blood just hours ago. How easily you danced through his deadly game, laughter ringing out in the abandoned warehouse you’d all ended up in. How easily you meshed with the two of them — the infamous Savoy twins — like you had always belonged.

His lips turn upward ever so slightly, and looks back at the road again. He’d never forget any of that, though.

“When are you going to tell them, hm?” Seraphine murmurs lowly in their home language, French Creole rolling smoothly off her tongue.

“What, about the chicken?” He responds, “Believe me, they already know. Been hounding me about it ever since it went missing, that one.”

She grins, “Mmm, poor thing. All the work they do, and they still find it in them to care for the little ones.” She looks over at him, this time more pointedly. “They’ve got a real big heart. Might even have space for you.”

He hums, mulling her words over as the trees pass them by. Somewhere along the way he slows down, taking care to steer clear of the potholes in the corners of the road. He doesn’t think about how he’d usually take them head-on, or how he’d ordinarily be speeding down the dusty roads. What he does think about, is you. How you had woven yourself into their lives so wholly, and with such ease.

He remembers how warm your hand felt in his as he taught you to dance, and the radiance of your smile as you finally found your rhythm. The plushness of your lips tempted him deeply that night, as they have every night since. It would be so easy to just bend down and close that gap, but for the first time in his life, he can’t seem to take that final step. Never before has a moment of temptation transformed into months of longing, but he isn’t complaining — far from it, actually. The newness of it all doesn’t scare him, and he’s proud to say that he doesn’t seem to scare you in the midst of it all, either.

Flashes of your official welcome into the congregation bless him for a moment at the thought; how you requested that he be the one to do it; how you smiled at him all the while; how you fisted his shirt in your hand during the worst of it… he’s proud to say that he doesn’t scare you. He’s proud to say that you trust him so deeply. And at the end of it all, when knife met table and bandage met skin, you pressed your forehead to his, thanking him. He thought he had known temptation before, but then your tongue darted between your lips as you pulled him to his feet to resume the night’s festivities, and oh, Maitre Carrefour give him strength-

Serafine’s voice brings him from his thoughts.

“They’re one of us, Nicodeme.”

He chuckles to himself, lips perking up once again. “Yeah, yeah they are.”

And when the sunlight filters through the curtains of the Maribel, you realize you don’t remember clambering out of the car, or pulling the your blankets over yourself — all you’re left with is the faint memory of floating and the fading, but familiar, scent of the lakeside.

A/N: I love him. so much. This was originally gonna be a request fill for some mutual pining, but I really liked where this ended up, so... expect more Nico in the future! Let me know if you want me to write the reader's POV on this, or the in-between of getting carried to your room -- I have many, MANY thoughts about being carried by this man <3

#banner by @cafekitsune!#lackadaisy x reader #lackadaisy nico x reader #nicodeme savoy x reader #nico savoy x reader #lackadaisy imagines

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nightcolorz · 3 months

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okay i swear last from me tonight and no spoilers for show but i need armand happiness can we have some book armand / devils minion headcanons. literally about anything- their relationship, what they like to do, post canon, general armandisms that make me love him So Much?

don’t worry about bothering me I love when u interact with me <33 ok so I have a rlly cringe post canon devils minion head canon that I have been wanting to talk about but it’s rlly cringe and self indulgent 😭💔 but tbh, about as cringe as anything in late book canon so 🤷 I hope u enjoy and it makes u feel better, it’s my go to comfort headcanon

so I think Anne rices canon introduction of “through Science™️ vampires can conceive children with the help of DNA 🧬 , but they will come out as genetic clones, literally like identical twins but they r ur child, and lestat has a canon clone son” is a stroke of unhinged world building genius that is greatly underutilized by the fandom! I also think the vampire chronicles fandom is rlly missing out on some cringe fandom trademarks (like fandom ocs, ridiculous aus, stuff like that) bcus of the lawsuit thing probably. So anyway, I made the change I want to see in the world, and I have a genetic clone fan child oc 🙏. inspired by Armand’s canonically paternal personality and nurturing tendencies and soft spot for children, I like to think that way way post canon (around modern day) Armand and Daniel decide to Start A Family, and go through the process lestat did of conceiving a clone child with a surrogate (through armands dna), and they have a son (clone of Armand) named Ivan (after Armand’s father, I’m sappy) ! 🥰🥰 . It’s so silly I know, but I think having the opportunity to raise a human child and getting to give him and watch him live the mortal life he constantly envies and hoped to be able to provide Benji and Sybelle (before it was stripped from them) would be like, rlly good for Armand, and definitely I could see him in later canon wanting to pursue having a child with Daniel bcus of this unresolved grief. The clone layer, as ridiculous as it is, adds another dimension of sappy bcus not only will Armand get to live out the catharsis of giving a human child the fulfilled human life he never got, he will also get to see *himself*, or an almost too literal embodiment of his inner child, get to experience what he never did, and live that happy and safe childhood that Armand was deprived of. I think watching his son who looks just like him grow up and become a man while Armand is eternally frozen as a teen would be hard for him, but still healing and important.

So in my heart, post canon Armand and Daniel have their shit together enough to healthily (tho imperfectly) raise their clone son Ivan, who lives and dies a mortal. Ivan is the most spoiled child to ever live and he has a lavish playroom that is practically a house, fifty iPads, probably like ten ponies, etc etc. I imagine since he shares so much of Armand’s dna he strongly carry’s a lot of his traits, such as autism and strong hyper fixations. And I like to think he’s a little bit of a brat like Armand was as a child🙏 especially since his other dad Daniel does little to discourage those tendencies 😭. Ivan is a screen addict, a model train addict, and a Wolf Kid. He grows up to be the freakiest, strangest, long haired big bearded 5’6 ginger man at the gay bar. As a toddler Armand dresses him like a tiny fancy little man bcus he won’t have any son of his committing any fashion crimes, but unfortunately for Armand Ivan takes after Dad-niel in the fashion department and by the time he’s able to dress himself he wears wolf themed t-shirts and cargo shorts everyday 💔💔

Daniel is rlly naturally good with kids which is incredibly sexy and romantic to Armand. He’s the fun dad 💀 Armand is a little too strict and a little to over protective bcus of how trauma based I imagine his parenting would be, and daniels laid back, comfy and understanding energy helps level that out. When he’s a teenager Ivan goes through a rebellious emo phase and Armand and Daniel have to spend all of their energy desperately trying to ensure Ivan doesn’t tap into his addiction gene or his strong susceptibility to inheriting his father’s personality disorders 💀. He is very doted on and very loved, he is given more care and attention than any other child would be capable of receiving 😭. Armand is convinced he’s a child genius and will definitely cure cancer and become a world leader, so he tends to parade him around like his prized possession that everyone needs to know is incredibly special during Vampire Family reunions or whatever goes on post canon. ivan is not allowed to interact with Most vampires, except for Uncle Louis, who finds it emotionally difficult to be around children 😭 and Uncle Lestat (only under careful supervision of Uncle Louis), who loves throwing Ivan around like a ragdoll and telling him embarrassing facts about Armand 💀

I hope u like this lol, thank u for the ask!!! <33 u r always welcome to ask me for headcanons or ask for my thoughts, that is my favorite thing. Anyways, for those who r invested, here’s my Ivan art

#tvc #armand #the vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles #iwtv #interview with the vampire #the vampire armand #the devils minion #devils minion #daniel molloy #daniel x armand #armand le russe

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evilminji · 7 months

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I recently read your DPxDC post comparing the Ghost Zone to Yggdrasil.

Ans I've been playing Elden Ring again lately, mostly because the Lore in it keeps dragging me back.

And I think you'd like the concept of Erdtree Burial. It even matches up with your post.

Imma try my best to explain the concept so Spoiler starts here:

-------------

Anyways, so Erdtree Burial means to take a recently dead body of someone who committed grand feats and/or is worthy of honor, and place them to rest amidst the roots of the Erdtree (which is basically Yggdrasil vut legally distinct).

The Tree itself will then take the soul and memory of the deceased and etch them upon itself, preserve their soul and remember them.

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What if the Erdtree is that world's link to the World Between Worlds?

So, can you imagine all these Elden Ring Demigods, Honourable Dead and Great Fighters occasionally taking a leisurely stroll out of their Afterlife Home amidst the branches of the Erdtree to go visit the Ghosts that live in the Zone?

Random giant dude passes by, twin Greatswords at his back, and goes to grab a whole 20 barrels of ecto-ale to bring back to his friends.

Danny, coming back from visiting Clockwork, has to do a double take, and ask the bartender some questions.

"While was that guy? He looked a little too golden to be a Ghost"

"Ah, that's just Radahn. He says he's a General or something. That he once held back the stars all by himself. Apparently fought some wars, and they still needed like 20 great warriors fighting together to put him down after he went senile. Hogwash, if you ask me."

Danny hears that the guy used to throw hands with celestial bodies regularly, and knows exactly where he'll be for summer vacation.

If the Tarnished player character is already Elden Lord by then, I can definitely see Danny coming back wearing the Twinned Armor set.

(Especially if it's my Strength/Faith/Arcane character. She used the Butcher's Knife greataxe, with the Stormcaller Ash of War and a Bleed enchantment, plus Rot Dragon and Black Flame spells)

Hello yes! I DO enjoy this thought! You were ABSOLUTELY correct!

Haven't played the game? But? Now? I CAN NOT get the idea of the Zone itself being The Erdtree out of my head?

Great and endless. With roots and manifestations, that may or may not reach into the world it cradles, that will imprint upon itself souls of those buried close. That it may cherish them FOREVER.

Are we within in it? Held by it? Consumed? It is not for our mortal minds to know. Perhaps not even for gods to know.

But, oh. OH! What made Danny so DIFFERENT? No answer found in his world. No answer found anywhere near it. Yet? Here they know it. A simple answer, given freely. It feels almost unfair. Like he has been cheated of catharsis. As though he should have had to fight and scrape and FORCE them to speak.

They can not even begin to understand, what it is like. Being so alone.

Or maybe... maybe they can.

He's not sure which he wants more. Which he fears is true.

For what was the portal? If not sharp blade cut into the celestial earth? Plunging into starlight soil and primordial soup, to the tangled roots of something greater. A tree. THE tree. Dragging back that soil and nicking those tightly woven, buried things. A welling of ichor, golden and green and DIVINE.

A plunging of that blade into his heart.

His lifeblood with the tree's.

A pathway where none could ever have been.

Oh, what rituals we blindly perform. Our ignorance of their meaning does not give them less power, only leaves us unguarded. It does not have to be on ancient stages and with ancient things, to be a ritual. It can be a laboratory. A machine instead of a ritual blade.

Still a thing forged by Father's and Mother's hand, that killed the Son.

And then Again, through the twist of Time, by dear friends hand, first in ignorance now twice in knowing, killed again.

Twice Half Dead, Is A Corpse. And Thus, With The Tree.

Cradled and loved. Etched forever into itself. Perhaps even a bit more so, for the difficulties of his birth. For how rarely does the Erdtree bleed. How rarely the Zone spill its Divine blood. A little starlit snowflake, flitting along its many paths. Cradled in its heart. So clever and bright.

The problem, I imagine? Is that such a Divinity? Has a very distinct nature. You give unto them. They take. They cherish. They do not return.

And Danny is being a Trouble Child. Sneaking off into Worlds, mostly his own, and NOT staying in the Zone. The Tree's domain. Other Gods have power in those places! Child, cease! That is dangerous! It is like a mermaid deciding to go climb the alps. Even if she CAN make legs for herself, that is WAY to far from the safety of her God's domain! Are you mad, child!? Have you heard of acceptable Risk?!

Danny has. It made a whooshing noise as he tossed it out the window.

#dpxelden ring #dpxer #minji's writing #minji's ponderings

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imnotasuperhero · 2 years

Text

Some feelings, they can travel too.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Sometimes, the greatests love stories come to an end.

TW: Cancer, grieving, major character death. A doze of smut just to add to the angst (I set it in cursive, so you can scroll past it if you don’t mind the little bits of feels)

A/N: My dudes. I don’t know what to tell you. I’m here once again with a request that was too hard to decline since it hits home and I thought it might work for some overdue catharsis. I cried my eyes out resulting in a headache, so pardon any mistakes I made. I’ve been working on this for several hours and babysitting a 3 y/o is no calm job. Hope you enjoy this over 6k monster of mine (I reached anotehr milestone and I couldn’t be prouder) And like I say, if I hurt, it’s only fair you do, too.

Looking up at the imponent building in front of her, Wanda readjusted the straps of her backpack and followed the commands of her twin, doing some breathing exercises to calm her erratic heart.

Being the new kid at school was never something Wanda enjoyed, no matter how many times she had to transfer thanks to her dearest father. She hated feeling so small and the fact that she wasn’t the best at making friends did nothing to ease her anxiety.

“Come on, Wanda!” Pietro grunted annoyed, backing his steps and grabbing her hand to drag her along.

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Wanda sighed, trying to escape his tight grip to no avail.

“I do. And if we don’t hurry, we’re gonna miss our first period.” At the annoyance tinting his voice, Wanda decided to shut her mouth and follow him to the reception.

After getting each of their class schedules, the twins headed back through the path they walked.

“Okay, your classroom is at the next hall, third-”

“I heard what the lady said. I know where to go,” Wanda rolled her eyes at the need to punch her exasperating brother.

“Okay then, I’ll see you in the next period,” Pietro kissed the top of her head, trotting towards his own class.

Looking through the small window of the door, Wanda could feel the baby hairs of her neck spiking up at the new faces unaware of her presence.

‘Please, may this year be nice,’ She begged silently to whoever God was out there.

Wanda had to remind herself not to run the small distance that separated the teacher’s desk from the door at the numerous heads turning to her simultaneously.

“Hi,” Wanda handed the white schedule to Mr. Chadman -as she read in the tag at the door. “I’m Wanda.”

The old man inspected the paper for a few seconds and nodded quietly. “Welcome, Wanda. Please be seated and enjoy.” He gave her a smile that reminded her of her late grandpa.

Looking over the classroom, she walked hunchedly to the only seat free, beside some girl with unique glasses.

“Hi,” said girl gave her a toothy smile, making Wanda smile. “Name’s Y/N,” she turned back to doodle something on the blank page of the boy behind her before fully turning to the front. Her head leaned to her expectantly.

“I’m Wanda,” the brunette mumbled as she took a seat and slowly took her books, as if trying to seem unbothered by the stare burning the side of her body.

“It’s not all the time we get new students,” you said in a whisper, for Mr. Chadman had started the lesson already. “Where are you from?”

“Um… Sokovia,” Wanda braced herself expecting the typical questions that followed, but gasped when you surprised her.

“That’s near the Czech Republic, right?” You asked thoughtfully.

“Yep,” Wanda couldn’t help but smile. Maybe this won’t be a hard year, after all.

The rest of the school day was spent with minor inconveniences, except for Pietro’s teasing when he found out she might have made a friend.

Thought that was confirmed when she heard a familiar voice calling over her.

Looking to her left, she saw you standing on a table waving at her with that characteristic smile she learned to like.

“Hi,” Wanda smiled timidly at the 6 smiling faces staring at her.

“Guys, she’s Wanda. Wands, they’re… my friends,” you giggled sitting back down, scooting over to leave room for Wanda.

“Natasha,” the redhead spoke, sending daggers to you, to which you just threw a small piece of bread at her. “Nice to meet you,” she now turned to Wanda, showing her white smile.

“How’s school treating you?” The tall, brunette boy sitting adjacent to her spoke next. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

Before Wanda could answer you gasped, earning your friend's attention.

“Right! Wands, he’s from near your country,” you smiled brightly, almost excited.

“Wait. Where you from?” His blue eyes lighted up expectantly.

“Sokovia,” Wanda dried her sweaty hands on her jeans, gathering all the confidence she could muster.

“Not that near, but I'll take it!” Bucky raised his hand.

Laughing at the glee plastered on his face, Wanda high-fived him.

The passing days had Wanda relaxing by the minute as it seemed she had met the right people thanks to you. Granted you all could be a little too much for her to handle, but she was expectant of what this school year could bring to her.

What she didn’t expect though, was discovering you in a new light as you busied yourself with a well-used notepad. Be it because of curiosity or something she wasn’t familiar with, she wasn’t able to take her eyes off you for the past few minutes.

“What are you working on?” Wanda scooted over, sitting beside you on your bed. “Seems like your life depends on it.”

Pausing for a second, you sighed calmly as you turned to look at her. “Remember how you told me you loved to sing but you sucked at writing your own songs?” You asked cheerfully.

“Yes,” Wanda’s face contorted into one of suspicion.

“Well, I’m finishing a song you might like to-”

“You what?” Wanda all but took the notepad from your hands, reading through the black letters contrasting against the white pages.

“As I was saying, I thought you’d like to participate in next month’s talent show.

“I- No.” Wanda shook her head. “Not happening.”

“But why,” you whined, taking her hand in yours and Wanda felt an electricity wave travel up her arm. “You have a beautiful voice and it’s unfair the world doesn’t know it.”

“I appreciate your willingness in sharing your talent with me and I love this song already. But I don’t sing in public.”

“You really like my song?” You asked, your eye shining with something Wanda couldn’t put her finger on.

“Are you kidding? It’s amazing!” Wanda smiled proudly.

“Thanks,” you looked down, but Wanda could notice the rosy tint in your cheeks. But as soon as the shyness came, your stance was taken over by mischief.

“Tell you what,”

“Oh, no. I know that look and I don’t want-”

“But Wanda! I promise it’s a good thing!” You pleaded and Wanda could only sigh.

“Okay,” you paused confidently. “You sing this song in the talent’s show and I show you the tons of songs I’ve written.”

“Absolutely not.” Wanda nodded in the negative repeatedly.

“But Waaaaaands!” You whined deeply, conjuring the best pout you could, and Wanda only raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“Besides, you dream of being a famous singer,” you continued when the silence had stretched for way too long. “How you’d make it if you don’t get out of your comfort zone?”

Wanda hated when you used her future to have it your way. But if she was being honest, she knew the day would come sooner or later, so she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.

“You better show me all of them,” Wanda laughed joyfully when you threw yourself at her, hugging her.

“I knew you’d come to your senses.” You spoke toothily, looking down at her comfortable smile.

But said smile turned into a thin line when Wanda realized how close you were. So close she could feel your small breaths colliding against her lips like a needed breeze on a hot summer day.

Poking your side, Wanda scurried from under you. “You’re squeezing me,”

“Blandy,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up.

“I- That’s not a wo-”

“I’m the creator here,” you shrugged her off to which Wanda poked her tongue at you.

The following weeks passed in a blur as you both worked on the song Wanda would sing. Long nights on the weekends turned into a constant between you two and Wanda couldn’t help the peace she felt when you were by her side. Despite the bubbly, -hyperactive at times, charming persona you held, you were like a soothing balm to her conflicted insides, silently healing the wounds her demons left her with.

“I can’t do it.” Wanda panicked, turning to her best friend.

“You can and you will,” you grabbed her by the shoulders, making sure her eyes stayed locked with yours, making Wanda hold her breath for a little longer than necessary. “I believe in you, Wands. You’ll do great!”

“What if-”

“Nope. I’m forbidding you to go there.” You chastised. “You said you trusted me, right?”

“Always,” she answered nervously.

“Then believe in yourself, babe. You’re capable of amazing things if you just cross the line,” you smiled comfortingly, fighting Wanda’s inner shadows away.

With those words, Wanda hugged you before she stepped onto the stage after hearing her name, adjusting her guitar trying to avoid the public’s eyes.

Looking at you one last time with your supportive smile grazing your features, Wanda faced the crowd with her eyes closed as her fingers played the right chords expertly.

Picture a place where it all doesn't hurt

Where everything's safe and it doesn't get worse

Oh my

We see through bloodshot eyes

Wanda’s soft voice accompanied the soothing notes from her guitar, creating a spell that hypnotized everyone in the room.

Jump with me, come with me, burn like the sun

We'll talk, then we'll cry, then we'll laugh 'til we're done

Oh my

It's like we're out our minds

We've been runnin' for our lives

We've been hidin' from the light

We've been far too scared to fight

For what we want tonight

Wanda dared to open her eyes as she gained the confidence needed and smiled something proud at the faces full of calm in front of her.

Close your eyes and leave it all behind

Go where love is on our side

It's a trust fall, baby

By the time Wanda realizes she’s been staring at you, the last few chords come to its end. Feeling her heart burning from something she wasn’t sure of, Wanda played the last note smiling as everyone clapped and cheered at her. The adrenaline of the moment took over her, making her run to you after she walked off the stage.

“That was amazing!” Wanda giggled, closing her arms tightly around you.

“You are amazing,” you stood there, patiently holding her.

Breaking the hug, Wanda looked at your eye and felt the fire inside her burn stronger at the utter pride she found.

Before she could react, her lips touched yours, like a magnetic force dragging you together.

“I’m sorry,” she freaked when she realized what she just did. But the dreadful feeling disappeared when this time, you leaned forward, kissing her painfully slowly.

Smiling through the kiss, Wanda encircled her arms around your neck as you hugged her waist, bringing your bodies impossibly closer.

“Let me take you on a date?” You smiled when you parted for much-needed air.

“I would love that,” Wanda smiled as calmly as you, hugging you one last time hiding her face in the process, as she heard the voices of your friends nearing at a fast pace with the promise of celebrating after the show.

The stars shining over reminded you how small you were. Your small body was nothing compared to the cold rocks twinkling up in the black sky and a pang wounded your heart as Wanda shifted beside you, feeling the right side of your face burning under her intense gaze.

“Can I ask something?” Wanda’s voice was barely audible, afraid to break the calm.

Turning your head, you leaned forward pecking her lips. “Go ahead.”

“Why there’s a tinted side on your glasses?”

Closing your eyes, you sighed defeatedly. You knew it was too good to be true. Yet, you wished for the ask to never come.

“I’m blind in my left eye,” you pursed your lips, awaiting a reaction.

The gasp that escaped Wanda’s lips had you bracing yourself for the worst. You weren’t ready to give up on this living dream.

Before you could dwell too much into your sadness, Wanda’s hand cupped your cheek, as if inspecting her following actions were safe.

The burning sensation you felt on your left cheek started to prickle upwards your face as slender fingers were dragged agonizingly softly -a featherlight touch, really. Your breath stopped mid-exhale as Wanda lifted your glasses, caressing the skin beside your eye. You were thankful for the dark of the night around you, making it harder for Wanda to notice what could easily shine with the light.

As Wanda’s intense gaze shifted from one eye to the other, you closed your eyes to stop the forming tears. But what happened next had you choking a cry as Wanda kissed your broken eye and you could only wrap your arms around her waist as you hid your face in the crook of her neck, trying unsuccessfully to hide your pain.

“Detka,” Wanda mumbled with her lips against your head.

Seeing you did not move, Wanda just stood there, holding you at a weird angle that provided you the comfort you needed and you silently thanked her. You weren’t ready for this part of your story to see the light and being honest, you didn’t think you’d ever will.

“Detka,” the brunette tried once again after a few moments. This time, you complied. And the look you saw in those green eyes had you inhaling sharply.

“What happened?” She asked, combing some locks off your forehead.

“I had an accident when I was little,” you lied. “I was helping my dad with a project and a splinter got in my eye, leaving it useless.” You spoke confidently, having used the lie for so long.

“It suits you,” Wanda winked and you laughed something small, appreciating the fact she didn’t pity you. Or that she didn’t show it if she did.

“Can I have my glasses again, please?”

“You can,” Wanda carefully placed your glasses in its place, kissing your nose to move to your lips.

Humming at the contact, you allowed yourself to relax for the time being. More than ever, you decided to live your life the best way you could without thinking of the looming ghost over you.

It was a Wednesday when the fact you were a few weeks away from graduating high school hit you. And with that, the rainy day felt even more gloomy as the thought of another milestone so close, yet so far away given the condition you were in.

But that thought was pushed to the back of your mind when the honking car outside signaled your ride had arrived.

You had planned to go bowling with your friends as the last gathering before finals started the following week, determined to cherish every single second you had with the people you loved.

That’s how you found yourself fighting with your left shoe as the lights were dimmed.

“Let me,” Natasha squatted in front of you, making a quick job of your shoelaces.

“Thanks,” you smiled toothily, hooking your arms together as you walked to your friends a few feet away rooting for each one of the Maximoff twins in some game you didn’t care to pay attention to.

Once everyone was in your booth, you started the game as Pietro decided he was going first.

The afternoon was filled with laughter and playful banter and you couldn’t be happier having your friends and your girlfriend by your side.

“You’re up,” Bucky cheered you. “Show speedster how we do it,” he winked, causing you all to laugh while Pietro grumbled something you couldn’t hear.

Walking to the line, you chose the purple ball and measured your distance with precision. Balancing forth and back until you felt confident enough, you sprint to the limit line throwing the rolling ball as hard as you could.

“Wooh!” Wanda and Natasha cheered as you dropped all the pines in one shoot.

You smiled proudly as you walked back to your friends, waiting for Pietro’s commentary.

“Pretty impressive for having one eye,” he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed that you were leading the charts.

“Who says I just have one?” You frowned, hiding the giggle in your voice. “Tony gave me a bionic eye.” You shrugged, earning a chorus of ‘ooh’s’ from the youngsters.

“What!” Pietro looked shocked at the boy adjacent to him.

“What can I say? I like helping my friends,” Tony high-fived you as you sat beside him.

That night you held onto the toilet bowl as if your life depended on it with Wanda holding your short hair up in a ponytail as you had woken up with a sudden need to empty your guts.

“What can I do?” Wanda asked on the verge of tears as she never stopped the circling patterns on your back.

“It’s okay, love.” You sighed deeply as you stood up on wobbly legs. “It was the fried egg, probably,” you opened the mouthwash and gargled the nasty taste away.

Turning around, you couldn’t help but hug your girlfriend at seeing her so small. It was at that exact moment that you knew you did good in not telling her the truth.

“I don’t like seeing you sick,” the brunette pouted.

“Having you by my side makes it bearable,” you kissed her nose. Something that had become usual between you both whenever the other needed reassurance.

“Come on, let’s go back to bed,” you encircled her waist with your right arm, walking her to the bed.

The next minutes were spent in silence, enjoying each other’s warmth. Until the air around you started to weigh.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You turned to the body beside you.

“You think we’ll make it?” Wanda’s voice trembled and you felt your heart constrict at the not-so-positive prospect of your life.

Raising your hand to her face, you allowed your fingers to caress her soft skin, tracing her features with the lightest of touch, admiring her natural beauty and the dreamy way her eyes shone with the moonlight casted over her.

“It’s just college, baby,” you reassured her, pecking her lips.

“Far away schools,” she pouted something that had you all mushy.

Pausing, you decided to bite the bullet. “I was waiting till graduation,” you sat up, rummaging through your nightstand until you found the black velvety box.

You smiled softly at the choked gasp that left Wanda’s mouth as her eyes landed over the small square.

Opening the cube, you took out the small chain, holding it between your faces, absorbing all of Wanda’s emotion at that moment.

“Oh my,” Wanda grabbed the silver object, smiling watery at the pendants in her trembling hand.

“I know how much music means to you and is no secret it’s what bonded us,” you spoke calmly. “This is a reminder that no matter how far we are, we’ll always be connected.”

You quietly admired Wanda’s eyes glued to both musical notes, the eighth note hanging lower than the sixteenth note.

“Thank you,”

The sudden weight on top of you had you laughing as Wanda peppered your face with kisses while she repeated the same two words after every kiss.

“I love you,” the brunette cried with a smile before she locked your lips against hers in a searing promise. Of what, you didn’t know; but you surely won’t stop her for anything in the world.

But what started as an innocent kiss filled with promises of a future you might never see, shifted to something passionate that burned your body from the inside out and the clothes hugging your body started to suffocate you.

“Wands,” you moaned as your hands toyed with the end of her shirt.

The brunette sat quickly, discarding the clothing on the floor and you couldn’t help admiring the pale skin that invited you to emboss random patterns on its surface. And you did.

Your hands cupped her breasts, massaging them gently as you sat up to meet her lips, drawing out her moans.

At the tug on your shirt, you parted to take it off before you attacked her lips once again, grabbing her waist to guide her against your cunt, enjoying the every sinful sound that escaped her mouth.

Not having enough, you rolled over, landing on her as you started to trail wet kisses down her body, applying everything you learned during these three years, determined to allow her to remind you when your time had come.

The primal moan she mouthed when you bite on her hip bone had your hunger increasing ten times.

“Detka, please,” Wanda grunted in a gasp, bucking her hips up trying to find what she needed.

Grazing the tip of your nose against her mons pubis, you inhaled her intoxicating essence.

If the sound Wanda freed were sinful, the guttural sob she gifted you with when your tongue lapped at her folds had you in paradise.

Repeating the action once, then twice, you gathered as much wetness as you could, moaning between every lick. As if you licked your favorite lollipop after a bitter taste.

Deciding to finally give her what she wanted, your kisses ascended up, wetting every single patch of skin you could reach, smiling at the neediness of her voice.

“I need you,” she cried as she grabbed your head and brought you to her level, devouring your lips just to moan when she tasted herself.

Taking advantage of her dizzy state, you pumped three fingers inside of her as her head rolled back breathing something so sinful that you thought you’d been cursed for life, and you didn’t complain. Moving your digits in and out of her entrance at a slow pace you groaned at how tight she felt.

“You feel so good,” you praised. “Taking me so well.” Wanda could only moan at your words, too focused on matching your movements.

Sitting up, you stilled her with your free hand, never stopping your action as you looked down at her. The immaculate way in which her body writhed under you was something you could never forget. The perfect shifts in her face’s muscles with every pleasure you provided her had you wishing for your reality to change. You wanted nothing more than to live forever just to have her this way. A vulnerable mess under your touch, trusting you her soul.

Muffling a painful cry, you leaned over to kiss her devil’s lips, hoping the knot in your throat would go away.

“I love you forever,” you cried as you increased your pace, feeling her walls clenching around your fingers. Your hips pushed your hand deeper inside her as your fingers curled up, hitting the right spot.

“Oh, fuck.” Wanda cried arching her back, unaware of your inner turmoil.

“Cum for me, love,” you commanded, stilling your shivering voice.

She didn’t need much more than a few extra pumps to cum all over your fingers, panting her way down the high.

Opening her eyes, the lust in those green orbs turned into concern as she looked at you.

“Why the tears?” She asked, bringing you to lay on top of her.

‘I’m dying’ “I love you,” you sobbed, placing your ear on her chest, desperate to hear her heartbeats full of life.

It was all so unfair. You deserved a lifetime with the love of your life. You deserve to have a family and to grow old with the woman that had stolen your heart out of the blue. You deserved to see her in white walking down the aisle. You deserved to see her achieve her dreams.

But all you had was a sand clock emptying itself by the minute and an excruciating pain taking over your stiff body. Breathing was becoming harder and harder as the will in you fought in vain to win a war you had lost time ago.

Wanda’s sobs joined yours as she hugged you tighter, unaware of the fact that the love of her life was nearing the end of her path.

The morning came and you were thankful Wanda didn’t comment on your breakdown from the previous night, for if she did, you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep the lie much longer. You knew she deserved the know, but you also knew she’d be willing to glue herself by your side and give up on her desires, and you never wanted to be that person. She deserved to fly and you could only support her with pride.

The following weeks provided little time for you and Wanda to spend time together since finals were kicking all your asses. But Wanda consoled herself knowing that you all would celebrate after graduation, proud of having achieved a milestone together. That and the prospect of having you for herself the whole summer had her squeezing her fuel tank to no end.

To say all of you had nailed the exams was an understatement as your glasses clinked together on your designated booth.

“I can’t believe we did it, guys!” Natasha smiled toothily, proud of herself.

“Next step, a week off at my beach house,” Tony proposed, earning all of your cheers.

“You sure your parents will let us all together?” Steve raised an eyebrow, always the reasonable one.

“They will. Leave it to me,” Tony winked.

“Make sure you don’t bring any toys,” you smirked as everyone laughed at the memories of last summer’s escapade.

“You wound me,” Tony faked being hurt.

Wanda’s hand rested on your bare thigh, smiling peacefully as she enjoyed the banter between you all.

Her mind took her back to the first day at school when she prayed before entering your classroom and she silently thanked all the gods out there for having you in her life. With your differences and disagreements, all of you conformed a tight-knotted group that she was sure would last a lifetime.

Kissing your cheek softly, she stood up with both your empty glasses in hand, walking to the bar for a refill.

“You’re Wanda, right?” A tall brunette took her out of her reverie.

“Yes,” Wanda frowned as she waited for her beers.

“I’m Maria. Maria Hill,” the lady introduced herself, stretching her hand. Once Wanda accepted it, she continued. “I saw you on stage the other day and I’ve been waiting to meet you,” her words had Wanda’s attention.

“I’m a music producer and I know how to spot talent,” she explained. “I’d like you to sing at the upcoming festival next month.”

“Are you serious?” Wanda’s eyes opened wide at the offer the woman was giving her.

“Dead serious,” Maria nodded curtly. “If the public likes you, we can talk business.” She handed her a business card. “Call me if you’re interested.”

With that, the woman smiled politely and walked away, leaving Wanda in a frozen state until Tom called her name.

“Warm beer doesn’t taste good,” the young man smirked.

“Right. But did you hear what she said?” Wanda’s smile grew bigger by the second.

“The only way is up,” he winked before moving to another customer.

Wanda walked back to your booth in an ecstasy state after the short encounter. She could be signed up.

Feeling your eyes on her, she looked at you, unable to hide her happiness.

“I’ll tell you later,” she mumbled to you, kissing your cheek and you smiled contently.

To say you were excited was an understatement. When Wanda told you about her offer you didn’t pause to think about your words.

“You should’ve said yes!” You smiled toothily with your own body vibrating from happiness and Wanda couldn’t help giggling at your reaction.

“I was kinda shocked,” she scrunched her nose.

“My baby is getting famous!” You launched yourself at her and Wanda burst out laughing at your eagerness.

You’ve always been her biggest supporter. Always by her side in whichever gig she got and always fighting the anxiety that sometimes took the best of her.

She’ll never forget when she showed you her first song. Your eye had lighted up like the fourth of July and the pride reflected in it had her insides warming up. And the jokes of having to quit your job but still waiting to get paid had her stomach flipping at the wondering of how you’d celebrate this time when she told you she accepted to play at the festival.

But all of that flew off her mind when she got the call from Natasha saying you’d been admitted into the hospital.

All her dreams and wishes shifted into one.

‘Please, may you be safe’ she begged to any deity willing to hear her.

Stomping through the hospital doors, she rushed to the front desk asking for your whereabouts, just to sprint the two floors that separated you both.

The air filling her lungs had become toxic and it hurt to breathe. Her trembling legs burned from the sudden running from the parking lot to your hospital bed.

“Detka!” Wanda cried entering room 274.

What she saw had her heart jumping on freefall down a cliff.

Your weakened form looked at her without the life that was so characteristic of you. All the little traits that adorned your happy features were erased as if they never existed.

Her legs menaced to give away and she wasn’t strong enough to fight back. Knees collided against the cold floor as her hand grabbed yours as if the act alone would transmit to you some of her light.

“Detka,” she sobbed as her world started to tumble.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you spoke calmly as your free hand cupped her cheek.

She placed her hand over yours, holding it tightly as she tried to understand.

Two days ago you were laughing gleefully about your vacation together and now… now you looked like a ghost.

“Come here,” you commanded weakly as you scooted over and Wanda didn’t need to think twice.

Careful not to step on any IV, she cuddled against you, choking at the warmth barely existent.

“What- Why,” she cried defeatedly as she crumpled your hospital gown in her hand.

Your arms held her trembling body, spasming with every sob that escaped her. Kissing your head, you mumbled against her. “My eye,” was all your broken voice allowed to communicate.

“It wasn’t an accident. Was it?” She should’ve caught the signs. The random sickness and the vomiting, all had an explanation she was too oblivious to note.

“It’s a retinoblastoma,” you paused, trying to steady your voice. “It had reached the majority of my organs,” you tightened your hold and Wanda’s soul cried with her at the barely change in strength.

“You can’t leave me!” She screamed between sobs. “You- You’ve- You have promised me,” her whole face contorted as another pang ran through her heart.

The news had left her weak to speak, so she stood there, laying by your side in your hospital bed, crying her pain away as she tried to process how her life would change soon. You were slipping through her fingers and she could do nothing about it other than see you leave.

“I’m gonna call Maria and cancel-”

“What?” You cut her off, looking down at her.

She sat in bed, sighing at the refusal from her body. “You’re dying,” she groaned.

“That doesn’t mean you have to pause your life,” you frowned sternly and Wanda felt herself becoming small, like a little kid being chastised because they ate too many sweets before bed.

“You’re the one abandoning me! You can’t tell me how to spend your last moments on this earth!” Wanda spits venomously, rage taking over her.

The resentment only grew stronger as you stood quiet, your sight staring at your lap.

“You have no right when you’re the one giving up!”

By the time she realized her words, your cheeks were already marked with tears running freely.

“I-” Wanda paused as a fresh wave of tears burned her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she launched herself towards you, holding you with all the will she possessed just to anchor you here. She refused to let you go.

“I’ll always be with you, Wands,” you cried, hugging her with what little force you had left.

“I’ll love you forever.” She vowed sincerely.

And she did. Every day for the next two weeks she stood by your side, telling you about the song she was writing for the festival and watching your favorite movies along with her favorite sitcoms. Even planning gatherings with your friends as you all enjoyed the last moments together.

Against her will, the day of the recital had come sooner than she expected and her heart ached knowing you won’t be there. It was the first time you missed one of her presentations and everything in her broke. Her heart shattered and she knew a part of her would go with you.

But she had promised you. And she would never break her word, no matter how hard it was to comply.

Looking at her reflection one last time, she smiled tearily as she saw your image in the mirror by her side, with the proudest toothy smile you only reserved for her. And that alone was enough to enlight her willpower.

She stepped into the white light as everyone cheered something she could really understand and she couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline running through every cell in her body.

“Good night, Westview!” Wanda smiled cheerily when the crowd erupted. “I hope you’re having a wonderful night. I wrote this song thinking of someone special and I hope you enjoy it.” She spoke confidently, feeling your joyful energy surrounding her. Finding Natasha’s eyes, she nodded as the redhead raised two thumbs up.

As the first tunes filled the silence looming over them, Wanda breathed deeply, reassuring herself.

I've tried to leave it all behind me

But I woke up and there they were beside me

And I don't believe it but I guess it's true

Some feelings, they can travel too

Wanda sang slowly, evoking every emotion into those lines.

Oh there it is again, sitting on my chest

Makes it hard to catch my breath

I scramble for the light to change

You're always on my mind

Her intrusive smile hung crookedly on her lips, feeling your presence by her side.

And I never minded being on my own

Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home

To be where you are

Wanda allowed her mind to travel back to the moment she first heard your voice for the first time. Back then, she didn’t know that her heart could feel so strongly for someone.

But even closer to you, you seem so very far

And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing

And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind

Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear

Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here

And boy, how she wished to see your face in the crowd, with your toothy smile lightening her path.

And if I stay home, I don't know

There'll be so much that I'll have to let go

You're disappearing all the time

But I still see you in the light

For you, the shadows fight

And it's beautiful but there's that tug in the sight

I must stop time traveling, you're always on my mind

You're always on my mind

Wanda sang her soul in those lines, hoping somehow you knew.

We all need something watching over us

Be it the falcons, the clouds or the crows

And then the sea swept in and left us all speechless

Speechless

Her eyes watered at the realization you’d be the one watching over her. Always guiding her, even if she couldn’t see you. And she couldn’t feel more blessed.

And I never minded being on my own

Then something broke in me and I wanted to go home

To be where you are

But even closer to you, you seem so very far

And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing

And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind

Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear

Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here

As she sang the last words, she allowed her fingers to take over the melody, imagining said notes floating away to you, for all she wanted now was to see your proud smile one last time when she rushed to your side shortly.

But she never saw you again.

By the time she met her friends, her legs gave up as she saw the tears running down their faces, confirming to her what her soul had felt when she saw you in the mirror was nothing more than the bond that linked you breaking as you left this world.

The arms of her friends surrounding her meant nothing at the realization that you had left her. All alone to pick up the pieces of her heart scattered around.

Sadness reigned over the group of people gathered by your casket. Each one with their own thoughts and feelings, but if Wanda was sure of something it was that everyone there asked the same question.

How come the nicest people are the first to leave? Seeing your picture over the easel with that big smile that had taken her captive and your eye shining with that unique light it held, enlightened a wave of anger roaring free. It wasn’t fair.

“Wanda,” your mom spoke softly once the funeral ended.

Looking up, Wanda couldn’t help her cries as the woman hugged her tightly, crying along with her.

“She loved you,” she spoke against the brunette’s hair. “Until her last breath, she loved you.”

Those words played in her mind like a mantra. Maybe if she repeated them enough, it wouldn’t hurt that much.

“She asked me to give you this,” the woman gave her a white envelope when they parted away. “And one last thing? Thank you for loving her.” She kissed Wanda’s head before walking away, leaving a broken Wanda by your grave.

Sitting down, she let the silence surround her, almost like a bubble that would pop with even the softest touch, breathing twice, thrice before opening the letter.

Wands, if you’re reading this it means my body is no longer by your side. But know that my soul will always be linked to yours, for a love like ours is hard to die.

Thank you for all the great moments you shared with me. Unbeknownst to you, every single smile and laugh you gifted me added time to my sand clock and that blessing is something that kept me fighting till the end.

I know you’re suffering right now and you need to mourn, like any loss. But when you’re able to truly smile again, I beg of you not to close your heart. Life is too magical to be lived alone.

Allow yourself to feel love again, don’t fight your heart. Yes? Promise me you’ll keep your head high and not let my departure keep you from enjoying the little things in life.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about it, but I know you and I didn’t want you to leave your life on standby while you worried about things no one could solve. Know that till the last breathing of my heart, I lived. And I hope to live forever in your memory.

The necklace I gifted you holds a meaning. I knew it deep in me the first moment I saw you that you were my forever love. And I wished with all my heart I lived long enough to grow old with you. But as the latest didn’t happen, I found the right totem to keep our love for the end of times.

The sixteenth note means the union of our souls and the sincere love we held for each other. The eighth note holds the reminder that even though I'm not present, my spirit will always guide you through your dreams, helping you achieve them. Always silently rooting for you in whatever challenge you face. Just like I always did.

No matter what, bet your ass I’m so, so, so proud of you, baby. And I always will. You were my biggest love and I’m forever thankful for you had taken me.

I love you forever. Until we meet again.

Wanda hugged the letter tightly against her chest, silently crying her pain away as she stared numbly at your whereabouts buried three feet underground.

“I’ll love you forever,” she cried, mustering all the love she held for you in those three words, hoping the wind would let you know.

As always, coments and reblogs are appreciated (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @red1culous @wandabear @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mitarashi-san

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #requested #my writing

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glorf1ndel · 1 year

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Fëanorians as Taylor Swift Albums

Speak Now: Taylor’s Version is out, so I apologize for the person I’ve become. That being said, here are the Fëanorians as Taylor Swift albums!

Fëanor: Reputation. “Look What You Made Me Do” is practically the Oath of Fëanor, guys. This album combines electrifying love with giving the middle finger to society trying to intrude on that love, which feels very Fëanor to me. (Plus, he would absolutely fight other versions of himself in order to prove himself as the supreme Fëanor.)

Nerdanel: Red. I have to give Nerdanel the album about heartbreak – and the catharsis that comes with writing a ten-minute song about it. The highs and lows of Nerdanel’s life? She remembers them all too well. Red also contains some of Taylor’s most well-regarded music, and I think Nerdanel would appreciate that, as an artist herself.

Maedhros: Midnights. Let’s face it, Maedhros has had more than 13 sleepless nights. And this album has “Anti-Hero” and “You’re On Your Own, Kid,” which are hardcore Maedhros songs. But I’d like to think Mae finds joy in life, and that’s what Midnights is about – being almost surprised that in the end, you’ve stumbled upon happiness.

Maglor: Folklore. This one has to go to Maglor for the intricate songwriting, ocean vibes, and the line I can go anywhere I want/ Anywhere I want, just not home. Plus, this was a triumphant Grammy win for Taylor – and Maglor deserves a Grammy, too. :’)

Celegorm: 1989! Celegorm needs an album to rival his energy, so why not one filled with some of Taylor’s biggest hits? “Bad Blood” and “Out of the Woods” were made for Celegorm: the son of Fëanor, the hunter, the lover of life, and everything in between. Tyelko’s got a blank space, baby, and he’ll write your name.

Caranthir: Speak Now. Here are some of Taylor’s fiercest songs, perfect for the Fëanorian who can get a little angry sometimes. Let Caranthir listen to pop rock! Also, the fairy tale themes of this album suit him; I’d like to think that he dreams of a happy ending with Haleth. Maybe he even gets it. Long live the walls we crashed through, y’all.

Curufin: Evermore goes to Curufin, who’s thoughtful and intense all at once. He’s a clever craftsman, and here is a cohesive album where every song is a little melancholy, feral, and maybe even joyful. I can see Curufin listening to “Evermore,” hoping for the moment when his own pain will end.

Amrod: Fearless! Whether or not you agree with the crispy Amrod theory, there’s no denying that Amrod (and his twin) have a good amount of fearlessness. There are a lot of songs in this album about youth, such as “Fifteen,” which suit a young Fëanorian trying to navigate Middle Earth. It’s even more stressful than high school.

Amras: Taylor Swift. What else could I give the youngest brother? Sometimes Amras might feel overshadowed by his siblings, but there’s no denying it: he’s a powerhouse, too. So here’s the album that contains Taylor Swift’s first hits, like “Tim McGraw” and “Teardrops on My Guitar.” Also, I think Amras would appreciate a good country ballad.

Celebrimbor: Lover. Celebrimbor is a cheerful person who truly loves his life in Ost-in-Edhil. He’s also an expert smith, so Taylor’s first self-owned album, the product of a lot of hard work, is one that I think Celebrimbor would appreciate. And we’ve got to give him the happy ending of “Daylight.” I just think that you are what you love.

#silm #silmarillion #feanorians #taylor swift #feanor #Nerdanel #maedhros #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #amrod #amras #ambarussa #celebrimbor

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carmybears · 2 years

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Movie Night

Just in time for Halloween - Here's to all of my fellow horror watching, Carmy lovers out there!

pairing: carmy berzatto X reader

summary: Even though Carmy isn't a fan of the genre, he braves watching a horror movie just for you. (mentions/possible spoilers for The Rental, because how could I pass up the opportunity to make Carmy & reader watch the actual horror movie JAW starred in?)

word count: 1.2k

“Never let it be said that I don’t do anything for you,” Carmy mumbles under his breath as you settle into the couch together.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s going to be fine,” you tell him as you open up Netflix, scrolling to the movie you had queued up. “It’s just a scary movie.”

Horror had been your favorite genre for as long as you could remember - ever since you watched your first horror movie as a teenager. This year, you had challenged yourself to watch a scary movie every day in October leading up to Halloween. You had been having a great time with the challenge - enjoying old favorites, new releases, and some movies that had been on your watch list for ages. Carmy, on the other hand, was perplexed by your ongoing marathon.

“I just don’t get it,” he had said to you a few nights ago when he came home to find you sitting in complete darkness, curled up underneath a soft fleece blanket while watching The Ring.

He listened patiently as you regaled him with an explanation about the catharsis of experiencing fear from the comfort and safety of your own living room and rattled off theories about Horror being an excellent vehicle to understand societal anxieties of the era.

As much as he appreciated your love for the genre and the surprising amount of thought that went into your favorite slashers and supernatural chillers, Carmy couldn't quite relate to your enthusiasm. He recalled being young — far, far too young — when Mikey had shown him The Blair Witch project and it terrified him for weeks afterward. Needless to say, the nightmares that plagued him as a child following the experience put him off the genre as a whole.

Somehow, through no shortage of sweet talking, you’d managed to convince him to watch a movie with you tonight. You’d prattled off several movie titles (many of which Carmy shot down for being “too Catholic” for his liking) before eventually deciding on a horror/thriller from a few years ago about two couples on vacation at a scenic, oceanside Airbnb who gradually come to realize they’re being watched by a killer.

Popcorn bowl in hand, you press play on the movie, tucking yourself under Carmy’s arm as the opening scene plays.

“You look a little bit like him, you know,” you tell him, several minutes into the movie.

He scoffs. “Who? The guy whose girlfriend is clearly sleeping with his brother? I don’t see it.”

“Are you kidding me? Look at him!” You point to the screen and back to Carmy. “He’s got the same strong nose and dreamy blue eyes. If you cut your hair, you’d be twins.”

"Dreamy blue eyes?" He sounds skeptical of you, pursing his lips for a moment before he relents.

“Ok, maybe we look a little alike. We’ll see how I feel about that at the end of the movie though.”

Some 50 minutes later, a dog is missing, there’s a man dead in a bathtub, and the four main characters are decidedly having a much worse weekend than they had bargained for. Your mind is racing as you try to piece together the mystery of the killer’s identity. You feel your pulse quicken just a little as one of the characters suddenly hears the sound of the shower running in a supposedly empty house and Carmy’s arm tightens around your shoulder almost imperceptibly.

“Scared?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he stammers, looking just a little dazed.

“Very convincing,” you chide, interlocking your fingers with his as the chilling scene unfolds onscreen.

The simmering sense of dread trickles through your veins as the story gradually builds to a climax. Despite the plot being a bit of a slow burn, the image of the masked killer lurking though shadows and and sprinting through the fog has you on the edge of your seat. Carmy’s grip on your hand tightens with each passing scene and you have to remind him not to crush your hand within his own.

When at last the credits start to roll, he lets out a deep breath and drops your hand, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs.

“So what did you think?” You ask, turning to him expectantly. “Did you love it?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head at you swiftly, although you don’t miss the fond smile on his face. “Do you wanna go ahead and turn the lights on?”

You stand, laughing a little under your breath as you cross to the far side of the room and snap on the lights.

“Oh so you don’t wanna sit in the dark and plan a remote, oceanside weekend getaway?”

“It’s not on my list, no.” He presses a kiss to your cheek as you drop back down onto the couch beside him. “So, horror buff, what did you think of the movie?”

You take a beat to gather your thoughts, fiddling with the frayed edge of throw blanket you’d pulled over your lap. “It was alright, I suppose. The plot was a bit thin, but that killer was seriously creepy.”

Carmy nods in silent agreement and you reach out to him, twisting an errant curl around one finger before resting your hand on his jaw, drawing his bright blue eyes to meet yours.

“It means a lot to me that you did this by the way. I know you don’t really like or understand horror movies, but I really appreciate that you still watched one with me tonight.”

A faint tint of pink rises in Carmy’s cheeks and you recognize the way he sometimes balks at such outright expressions of your affection. Carmy’s love was a warm meal after a long day at work; it was carving out time for unglamorous dates and nights in at your apartment; it was tight embraces and whispered confessions when he was at his most vulnerable. It was a kind of love that was often shown and acted upon, but much more rarely verbalized.

“I love you, Carmy.”

He smiles briefly and turns his head to press a kiss into the center of your open palm. “Even though I’m afraid of scary movies?”

“Especially because you’re afraid of scary movies.”

“Good, because I love you too – scary movies and all.”

Your heart feels full and your skin feels warm as you stifle a yawn and check the time on your phone, only to see that it had gotten later than you realized.

“Oh damn, we should probably get ready for bed.”

You reach for the remote, intending to turn off the TV, but Carmy grabs it first, turning the device over in his hand as he looks at you sheepishly.

“You cool with watching a cooking show first? As a, uh, palette cleanser I guess.”

“Of course,” you chirp, settling back into the couch, draping an arm his middle. “Show me the spine tingling terrors of Iron Chef America.”

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy x reader fluff #carmen berzatto x reader fluff #mine #y'all would not BELIEVE the halloweekend hangover I was fighting off while writing this

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cynicalclassicist · 3 months

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Theory on the death of Walder Frey

This is just a theory on the death of Walder Frey, as you probably gathered from the title.

Now, it is nigh-certain that a second Red Wedding is being planned by the Brotherhood without Banners, at the wedding of Devan Lannister and a Frey girl. Tom O'Sevens opening up Riverrun and letting in the BWB and their allies to massacre the wedding guests.

But how will Walder Frey die? I have heard ideas that he intends to be at this wedding, to see his family establish their power, in the castle of his former lieges, who he betrayed.

However, he is about 92 and you wonder whether he'll be able to make the trip across half the Riverlands. More likely he is going to be at the Twins when the news of the massacre hits him.

Around the same time that this happens news may hit him from the North, that Stannis has destroyed the Freys he sent with Roose Bolton to secure the North. It may be that the combined news could kill him from shock.

The show does have him face what feels a more fitting end, being killed by Arya. Him just dying of like a shock may be anti-climatic. But it's something to think about.

Either way, it is incredibly unlikely that he makes it through The Winds of Winter. That will really have the Freys being picked off by everyone who hates them, including each other.

He may of course just die naturally, but that would be even more anti-climatic. Probably a sense of justice needs to be him seeing the Red Wedding, which he thought would be his Rains of Castamere moment that would establish Frey power, backfire on his House.

Like I say, merely speculation. If he does go to Riverrun, he is not returning to the Twins.

If he dies at the Twins you may even get the Freys throwing round accusations that another Frey whacked the old weasel.

Ah well, him going should give us a sense of catharsis and we'll probably hear of lots of people celebrating his death and saying that he'll be burning below.

Or freezing below if we're going Dante.

And one of his sons is already going to a frozen lake!

Along with many others!

I made a few gifs of the Battle of Ice from that film and I am going to use them!

#asoiaf #twow #twow speculation #the winds of winter #asoiaf theories #twow theories #asoiaf speculation #walder frey #house frey #walder frey death #alexander nevsky #my gifs

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greatcheshire · 2 years

Note

I love your yt content, so excited to find your blog!

I was wondering about your deep love for Fire Walk With Me. I love Lynch, I love TP, but really can't stand the movie. It even ruins moments of the series for me. I'm super interested in your opinion tho

I'll probably make a video about this at some point but I'll try to explain it as simply as I can lol There's a pretty famous video in which composer Angelo Badalamenti goes through his process of writing the Laura Palmer theme, where he's playing as David Lynch paints a scene for him of the dark woods, ominous and threatening, and a young girl emerging from the darkness, getting closer and closer, moving the scene to beauty and sadness, before she retreats back to the darkness of the woods again, and at the end, Lynch says, "That's Twin Peaks." At its heart, Twin Peaks is and has always been a show about a young girl lost in the woods. Her beauty and her pain and her suffering and the way in which she lives in the darkness of the world around her. For the entirety of season 1 and the first third of season 2, Twin Peaks is about Laura Palmer, as we uncover more about who this girl was and what she meant to the rest of the town and how her death affected everyone.

Then the rest of season 2 happens and we get more and more away from it. Complicated lore, contrived soap opera plots, and getting too lost in hijinks and quirkiness. The Palmer family almost entirely disappears, Laura being left as nothing but just another case, before being brought back for a powerhouse season finale in which Lynch not just establishes a killer cliffhanger, but also brings Laura back in the Lodge and connects her back to everything. Lynch could've continued directly from there, solved the cliffhanger in a finale film, but instead we got Fire Walk With Me, which in my opinion is more important and necessary that a follow up.

Rather than focusing on the quirky town folks or Twin Peaks or the intricacies of the lore or the fun investigation antics of Cooper, Fire Walk With Me is a horror film. It's a character study about Laura Palmer, reminding us that the series has, at its core, always been about a girl lost in the darkness and beauty of the woods. It's an uncomfortable portrayal of a teenage girl as she deals with abuse and mental anguish. We see Laura as she goes through several different attempts to process what's going on to her, almost as if she's experiencing grief over her own inevitable death. It gives Laura a chance to have her own story told and shown, not just spoken about by those around her. There's power in visualization and portrayal. Basically everything - including the thing Bobby did - was alluded to or told about in the show. But there's something different about seeing it, the slow melancholic fall to one's demise, that makes it heart wrenching. It's definitely not for everyone. I can understand people finding the tone offputting, the content upsetting, or not liking the way in which it gets more overtly supernatural but also more personal than the show ever did. It's definitely its own beast and a complicated film, and it has its fair share of issues. But I personally find it captivating as a portrayal of abuse done via surreal sensory overload. Sheryl Lee gives an incredible performance and the ending sequence of Laura's murder and the aftermath of it is perhaps some of the best directing Lynch has ever done. It's a heartbreaking, hard to watch movie, but as someone who finds comfort in engaging with work that covers similar pain I've been through, I almost find a catharsis in it. In a way, there's a certain beauty that comes from looking into the darkness and finding your way through it. And that's Twin Peaks.

#twin peaks #fire walk with me #laura palmer

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ahmedmootaz · 9 months

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Several questions relating to AiM.

Does X and Ayin keep their scars or the deager also deletes them from existence? would bring questions to the parents but only from guesses from a few. And what would they (the kids) think of X and Ayin looking like each other? Wouldn't they assume they're twins or not really and they think it's cool.

What's Young X like and the difference with Young Ayin?

Dear astrocourier,

Hello again! As with the previous ask, I'm sorry for the very big delay in answering, I had a busy few weeks this December, although I am always very happy to read your asks!

For the first question, I believe the De-Ager would remove their scars, just as it gave Kali her two eyes back, I believe that Angela will start guessing about the nature of Ayin's self-harm once she sifts through his lab-coats after maybe a week or so past the De-Aging Incident; she would obviously know what it is since Ayin held the cutter with so much disdain following Carmen's passing, and Ayin's self-harm wouldn't be new to her, but it would definitely give her a new perspective when she eventually grows to like her little Yinnie, since despite him being distant and likely influenced by the Disease, he'd probably stick to her more than his 'siblings' because his personality doesn't make him fit in with other children.

Perhaps it would eventually even disturb her that Ayin, being such an innocent-if-obviously-different child, would morph into someone she knew used the cutter on a regular basis for "catharsis", and perhaps with some insight from Gebura or Binah, she would start to imagine the amount of grief he went through to push him into such a state, which would allow her some understanding for him.

I think X and Ayin would be naturally attracted to one another purely from an appearance perspective, but they likely pin the resemblance on their mothers being "sisters", which would make sense, at least to their childish minds. I'm pretty sure that X and Ayin would spend more time with one another than with other kids, at least in Ayin's case. X would definitely get along with everyone.

The main difference between Young!X and Young!Ayin would be age, mostly. X, being only a few months old technically speaking, would be the parallel to AiP's Angela, and thus he would be the group's toddler, which makes him a lot more energetic and a lot happier than Ayin is, not to mention X would be heaps more attached to Binah as his mother, to her confusion.

As always, thank you for the wonderful ask! It's always a pleasure to see people's interest in AiM, despite it still being an idea on paper, really, ehehe. Until next time, astrocourier! Be well, stay safe, and see ya'!

#lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #my writing #ayin #manager x #ask #angela #binah #gebura #Trio of Motherhood #Or something to that extent

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thecryptidart1st · 2 years

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Welcome to the Soldered Wires AU

A FNAF AU Guide of Michael Afton x Sammy Emily

By @thecryptidart1st and @preetkiran1016

AU Introduction & Masterpost [You Are Here]

Character Headcanons [[COMING SOON]]

Timeline of Events

Soldered Wires Fanfics

Soldered Wires Ask Rules (Please Read Before Asking)

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(Spoilers for the lore of FNAF, both in games and in other media associated with the franchise are featured throughout this AU)

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~Commissions~

~Introduction~

Why is it called ‘Soldered Wires’?

Much like soldering itself, this AU is an attempt to melt together the canon of the FNAF games, books, theories (all of Game Theory), fan-created media inspired from the franchise (TheLivingTombstone music, Squimpus McGrimpus VHS videos, etc), and personal canon in an attempt to create a cohesive story of the Emily & Afton families throughout the events of FNAF.

Who is Sammy Emily?

Sammy Emily is the twin brother of Charlie Emily and son of Henry Emily in the Silver Eyes trilogy of books. It was implied that he was taken and murdered by William Afton at Fredbear’s Diner when the twins were very young, before it was revealed that it was Charlie herself who was killed. Other than that, we have no other information regarding his personality or current whereabouts in the books’ canon.

Why are you so obsessed with Sammy Emily if he was a minor character in the books?

It’s very evident that the canon of the books, while a separate canon from the games’ own canon, are frequently used to fill gaps in the lore of the games (see any Game Theory video made after Sister Location). Characters mentioned in the books have become canon names in the games. Sammy Emily’s existence in the games’ lore is completely unknown (as far as we know as of August 2022), so this AU is our take on IF he was canon in the games.

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Soldered Wires Masterpost:

These Are Practically FNAF Canon:

Freddy Fazbear * Charlie Emily * Vintage 1982 Freddy Fazbear Poster * Happy 7th Anniversary * Humanized FNAF Characters * How Scott Created FNAF * The Uno Incident Recreation (lol) * Mike Getting 30 Years of Catharsis Through The Queen * FNAF Ghosts in a Nutshell * Elizabeth’s Namesake *

Mike is My Blorbo:

The First FNAF Post * Mike is a Beauty Guru * August 2020 Mike * Mike is 2020′s Gay Icon * 1983 Michael Afton * Mike is Retail Mood * Mike is a Gremlin * Medibang had an Ipad App * Minecraft Mike * Mike is a Grump Mood * Mike & Jeremy (old) * Mike is Poggers * April 2019 Mike * Mike Hates Rabbits (Easter 2021) * Lil’ Michael & Music * Teen Mike & Music * Mike & Sammy hog blankets * Vacation Mike * Sad Mike for a sad post * Mike got a booty and I’m surprised no one called me out for him having William’s color scheme * Mike is Retail Mood 2 * Mike & Gold * Mike Offends Freddy * Pinup Mike * Mike Drawn at Starbucks * Mike is Tired Mood * Tiny Mike, Big Sweater * How Mike Starts 20/20/20/20 Mode * Mike gets pwned by Pokemon characters * Oh right, I have a lecture and a kofi * Mike got asks * It’s a win/win * 2014 Mike vs 2022 Mike * Mike would divorce for coffee * Angsty Mikes * Mike in Color * Tiktok Sexyman Material * Please give me Mike content * Giraffe neck *

Mike x Sammy (Sammike):

The First Sammike Post * Sammy’s Introduction * Mike & Sammy spite their dads * The First Sammike Fan * The Second Sammike Fan * Sammy Rests on Mike’s Lap * Quality Content * How Sammy Proposed * Mike & Sammy at a Wedding Dinner * 100 Days of Sammike * The Emily-Aftons Go Grocery Shopping * Mike’s Birthday Gift for Sammy * The Emily-Aftons Still Grocery Shopping * Mike, Sammy & Baby Greg (Traditions) * Mike Being Pinned by Sammy * The Sons * Sick Sammike * Mike & Sammy are the Game Grumps * The Emily-Aftons celebrate Halloween 2021 * Mike & Sammy playing Atari * Sammy can’t believe Mike hasn’t been caught * Boyfriends being cute * Anniversary of the First Post * Sammy’s concern about Mike’s mental health * Sammy’s concern aftermath * The Emily-Aftons celebrate Christmas 2021 * New Year’s Kiss * Their First Meeting * A morning with the family * Boyfriends at the club * Sammike at Target * Sammy is a confimed monsterf*cker * Muppet Sammike * A Romance Novel Cover * Why Sammy is Hot *

Soldered Wires Lore:

Sammy & the Puppet * Welcome to the Soldered Wires AU (2021 Pin) * Sammy After Pizza Simulator * The Emily Twins’ Birthday (sad post) * My partner and I hate Game Theory sometimes * The Holy Spirits * A clip of my lore lecture * I lose my shit over a poster * 1000 Note Ask Announcement * Mike in the Noncanon SL Ending * Pizzeria Simulator in a Nutshell * Crying Child & His Family * The only serious cutscene of the lecture preview * There’s something familiar here... * Glamrock Freddy is definitely showing his Glammike * Gregory’s reason * Gregory, your dad has PTSD * I somehow stay true to what my partner wrote down * Once again MatPat foils my plans * The Emily Twins’ Birthday 2022 * Happy Birthday Michael *

My Other Blorbo Is A Murderer:

The First William * The Fathers * William in @meemoze’s CMA post * How William Recruited Henry * William’s a Foreshadowing Dick Father * You didn’t read the contract you signed * Peepaw Meme * William William William * William & Henry * William Sketches at Target * Peepaw spends time with his grandson * Peepaw will fight Henry for Gregory * William in Color * William Prepaint Sketch * William in Acrylic * The Twink * Even this bastard was pro-choice *

Pre-Security Breach Art:

Gregory’s Introduction * Vanny * Vanny is maybe Mike’s daughter? * Gregory & Vanny are maybe siblings? * Glamrock Freddy & Gregory Try Hacking a Door * I wrote a better Vanny scene than Security Breach actually did :D * Gregory’s First Ask * This was Basically Security Breach * Glamrock Freddy showing his Glammike *

Post-Security Breach Art:

Security Breach has arrived * One of you works for Steel Wool, I have suspicions * He Had It Coming * 2K Note Ask Announcement * Two Different Personalities * Roxy says Hello * 4k Note Ask Update * Gregory’s thoughts about the Glamrocks * He’s Just Standing There, MENANCINGLY * Gregory in Color~ * The Crayon Incident * Sundrop & Moondop’s views on social interaction * “Underneath this smile I’m dying” * We don’t talk about Bonnie * 6k Note Ask Update * Gregory chooses an animatronic form * Moondrop threatens our fingers * Roxy’s not crying who put these tears on her pillow * Gregory brought a sweater * There’s something in the shadows * Vanessa’s not paid enough * Bawk, bawk, bitch * Monty has anger issues * Sammy’s on the case * Glamrock Freddy can’t decide who’s his best pal * They’re ourple and related * Which ending are we even in? * A hug from Sundrop * Vanny & Vanessa * V & V’s thoughts about Gregory * Vanny threatens a kidney * The Spoon * Closing the box * Happy Easter 2022 *

Pre Security Breach DLC Art:

A Possible Theory * Further elaboration on Theory * Jeremy Teaser *

My Self Doodle Answers Your FNAF/Soldered Wires Questions:

The First Ask (no pic) * I encourage ship asks * Come watch me make these two kiss * Make all the fanfiction * Mike & Sammy’s singing voices * I really liked ooftroop’s video * I clarify which video confused us * I can’t believe they brought peepaw back * Me explaining how I make the Emilys related * I was glued to my phone a whole weekend * I threw you guys a hint to how this all works * FNAF addiction * I verify that there is indeed fanfiction about this AU * Debating if the Janitor is Soldered Wires canon * I’m a fraud of a FNAF fan * My thoughts on Security Breach * I react to a good FNAF fanfic * I’m still reeling over a good FNAF fic * Thoughts on JR’s * I like JR’s Mangle * I have a spending problem * The Hot Topic FNAF Shirt Saga * I curse another to the animation struggle * The Hot Topic FNAF Shirt Saga Part 2 * My opinion on Youtooz’ Ignited Freddy *

Soldered Wires But… :

Mike is an Essential Retail Worker * Mike Snaps (Willy’s Wonderland News) * Snapped! Mike Attacks * Mike worked on Willy’s Wonderland * Sammy is the Puppet * They’re Omegaverse * Mike & Sammy meet Book Charlie * Mike is a Fae Child * Prince! Sammy & Fae! Mike * Harry Potter! Sammike * Alive AU (with Scott response) * It’s Freddy x Foxy * It’s Golden Freddy x Puppet * It’s Springtrap and Mike’s Schmidt’s Son? * Alive AU! Mike, Sammy & Charlie eat pizza * Alive AU! Mike, Sammy & Charlie full view * Alive AU! Middle Aged Mike * Steven Universe Gem! Sammike * Toy Freddy Stares Into Your Soul * The Aftons live in Yellowstone * It’s Unfinished Art * It’s Unfinished Art (but with Spoilers) * It’s Based in Someone Else’s Fanfic * Gregory is a Glamrock with Mike * I yell about Aftonbuilt * I reallllly yell about Aftonbuilt * Popstar/Rockstar! AU * They’re cats * More cats * I refuse to accept the canon design of Mike on the poster and decide its CC * Afton Brothers in the Switched Roles AU hanging out *

The Graveyard Shift (and their related fandoms):

The Janitor * Janitor & Mike (First Ask With Picture) * Dead Meme * Bierce * Mike Doesn’t Trust Poppy (Chapter 1) * You can see the Graveyard Shift forming in this one * Janitor is OP in Security Breach * The Concept Post * Mike & Janitor are friends * Ethan is a baby * Macabre Mart Hiring (2nd Blog Announcement) * Working out heights and shapes * We quit retail * Mike points out Doug & Will are white guys in 1985 * Doug and Bierce ripoff the Little Mermaid * Mike Doesn’t Trust Poppy (Chapter 2) * I had to censor this ask * He’s straight, it’s great~ * Mike is absolutely livid the Mechanic dragged his father’s burning butt out of Fazbear Frights *

TikToks, Animations & Gifs:

Freddy’s Stay Calm Animatic * Mike’s Portrait GIF * Mike’s Portrait Stills * Mike Procreate Animation Test * Mike & William F is for Family Rough Animatic * Mike is Bored Animation * Mike says “Wow” Animation * William is my first TikTok * Mike & Greg find out about the MJ musical * FOR TIL COLLEGE * I have a spending problem, but animated *

This Ain’t Mine, But It’s Got Soldered Wires Vibes:

@meemoze’s Snapped! Mike * @awkwardbutchkid’s Mike * @lesserartdump’s Sammike * @meemoze’s Sammy * @meemoze’s Sammy & Mike * @aromaseraphy-lavender drew my Mike * @carogdraws drew my Mike *

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #soldered wires #soldered wires au #michael afton #mike schmidt #sammy emily #samuel fazekas emily #sammike #michael afton x sammy emily #mike x sammy #fnaf au #au guide #i will probably update this every month or so

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