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cheeekycharchar · 8 months

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Temptation is the Name of the Game

"I am good. And you, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice."

Crowley has always given Aziraphale a choice. He's never forced him into anything he didn't want to do. He never assumed the outcome would be in his favor- just hoped. He tempts him and if the Angel agrees, then they'll continue their little song and dance together. But if he refuses, he leaves it be. Maybe he'll try again later. There's always been a later. Always another chance. After all, they have all the time in the world. Or so he thought.

Think back to their random S1E3 meeting in Rome, and how Crowley looked so incredulous when Aziraphale tries to tempt him into trying oysters and Aziraphale flirtatiously acknowledges their lil push and pull game of temptations through the years.

"No-- that's your job, isn't it?" The wily demon tempts him, gives him a choice and more often than not, he gives in. But it's always been his choice.

We see Aziraphale truly give into his first true temptation back during the Job flashback in S2E2. Crowley tempts him with wine. Aziraphale refuses. Crowley doesn't push it. So, trying again, he gives him another choice.

"Are you trying to tempt me?" "Not at all. Angels can't be tempted, can you?" And Aziraphale gives into the temptation (and to the point of full on gluttony- OMG THE WHOLE OX, AZI!? lol) It's the first time Crowley realizes that even Angels can give into demonic temptations. After all, his whole purpose as a Demon on Earth is to tempt humans. Humans are human because they get to make the choice between all the good and evil in the world as was pointed out in S2E3 in the Scottish minisode.

I feel like one of the main reasons Crowley instantly fell head over heals obsessed with Aziraphale at the wall of Eden was that when Aziraphale tells him he made the choice to give up his flaming sword to humanity, Crowley realized how different this particular Angel was compared to all the others in Heaven.

Because normally, Angels don't get a choice.

They follow orders. They fall in line. They listen. They don't ask. Their autonomy is locked into a heavenly order that they must obey. And if you go against any of that, then you fall. You're damned. You become a Demon. Like him. Unforgiveable. But here, an Angel- that if given the choice between following direct orders from Heaven or making his own choice to do something that he felt was right at the time and getting away with it; as he still stands on the walls of Eden with his pure white wings intact afterwards- then maybe this Angel is truly something special. Aziraphale piques Crowley's curiosity. He fascinates him. He surprises him. He keeps him guessing. And he loves that. Aziraphale to Crowley is just one big unanswered question and Crowley spends an eternity trying to figure him out. So he keeps asking him questions to understand him. To make sense of how someone so pure of heart could disobey and still be holy. (aka my TLDR; mini post)

In S1E6, right before they dine at the Ritz in the finale, they have a cute little inside joke moment on the bench.

"Let me… tempt you to a spot of lunch?" "Temptation accomplished!" It's like an unspoken lil game between the two of them at that point. Aziraphale knows that Crowley will always ask him if he wants to do something that might be against his natural instincts of being "the good one". But he also knows that he'll usually give in- especially if it's to spend more time with Crowley. After all, it's what Crowley does best (or worst. depending on who's perspective)- asking damn fool questions. What is a temptation if not a question proposed in the form of giving someone a desirable choice?

"You and me, what do you say?" He bares his heart and soul and gives him one last choice to make. The ultimate temptation. Give up this idea of going back to Heaven and stay with me as an "us".

"Oh, Crowley. Nothing lasts forever."

"No… no I don't suppose it does.."

It's here that Crowley knew that their time was up- that he wouldn't be able to keep their lil game of temptations going any longer. What was once forever has turned into the final moments of the sand falling through the hour glass.

"Oh, it doesn't matter. It's too late for that now, isn't it? It's always too late.." An endless void of eternity finally shines its light at the end of the tunnel. With each passing world-ending crisis, he can vividly see that there won't be another six thousand years to keep nudging the choice under Aziraphale's nose until he finally decides to give into temptation and choose to be with him. So, out of desperation, Crowley went all in and took Aziraphale's choice away from him in hopes of speeding things up before the hourglass empties completely. But as we all know..

"You go to fast for me, Crowley.." Crowley has always been on a different speed than Aziraphale. Always one step ahead of him.

They kiss and… Aziraphale breaks all our hearts by immediately forgiving him.

"I forgive you." Forgiving him for ending their centuries old game. Forgiving him for taking that choice away from him- even if he would have said yes, it was still his choice to make. Crowley made the wrong decision to kiss him in that particular moment and he knew it- they both did. (side note: I'm not taking sides or putting blame on either one here for this "breakup". They both had their "wrongs" here.. regardless, I loved the angst and that kiss either way ^-~) But to receive that instant forgiveness from the most important being in his world was too much. So instead of pushing it further, he leaves the bookshop in devastating disappointment. And yet.. he still doesn't go far. He waits. Just like he always has been. Waiting for Aziraphale. Waiting for him to catch up.

Crowley silently standing at "their" car across the street is his true final temptation and giving back the choice to his Angel. But this time without words. Without action. He leaves an opening for Aziraphale to choose to be with him one last time. Its the final move in their long game of temptation and Crowley still holds onto hope.

So there he stands. Watches as Aziraphale looks at him through the window from the bookshop in trepidation.

But ultimately, Aziraphale just gives him that one final sideways glance before choosing to step into the elevator and leaves him for Heaven (more on his reasoning for that choice in my other post). Their game is over. No more temptations. No more time. Each set out on their new paths. Apart.. With no apparent winner or loser... :(

I know.. I know.. I'm overanalyzing again. And I'm sure others have pointed this out in every way possible but I just can't stop thinking about it and sometimes I have to write it out in my own words to wrap my head around it all ^-^ ..cause I'm still hurtin'.. *cries* T_T I need to go read some South Downs cottage fanfics to heal until S3....

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens theories #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #crowley #aziraphale #my heart still hurts.... but I can't stop thinking about it all still!#give me season 3 or give me death

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rosemariad · 7 months

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Supernatural Season 11 Part 1

So the consequence of last season's tomfoolery is the unleashing of the darkness, as per Death's explanation before he got sliced by Death (I'm still not over how easy it was to take down such an ancient OP character)

And the darkness is a chick?! Whaaaaaaaaaaa-

Billie starts out in season 11 - okay - I know she's an enemy but I'm a fan of hers. She's sooo beautiful!!!! I love her look!!!! She ain’t takin’ no shit from the Winchesters either. That is a woman I can get behind - sowwwwwwwwwwwwy lol.

Why does Cas have to get fucked up yet again?!?!?!?! Why did Rowena turn him in an attack dog, damn!

The darkness unleashed some sort of virus ala The Crazies - 'member that movie (both original and remake)

The baby we find at the beginning of the season becomes the vessel for the darkness - she grew up so fast lol. Poor baby tho and her family 🥺

Rowena really tried starting a new coven -XD the name was soooo corny Mega Coven, really?! 🤣

I'm glad the sick/crazed Cas stuff is over but its only a matter of time before something else goes wrong with him. It's like the only reason he's kept around cuz lord knows the showrunners don't care about Destiel 🙃

Meanwhile the darkness is out and about as a little girl who's eating a healthy dose of humans, then demons, then humans again, totally unimpressed by Crowley and his shit 🤣

We have to see Metatron again ugh!!! Can someone kill him already?!?!?!?!

He really thought Cas was afraid. Child please. He's angry and he has so many reasons to be, between getting cockblocked by Sam and others, cockteased by Dean, having to compete with Crowley and women for Dean's attention (though where are the women, or is it all about AmaraxDean this season?), getting hated on by Heaven, getting cursed by Rowena and fucked over by Metatron personally and more than once, of course duh!

Sam! Poor baby thought God was speaking to him but it was the devil all along. He wants out of the cage and needs Sam to do it cuz another consequence of the darkness fiasco is the cage weakened some. Shame we didn't get to see Michael or Adam 🙃 (it was a great opportunity to bring back the apocalypse stuff from season 5, but oh well, that's what fanfiction's for!)

So instead of Sam who stands up to this bully, Castiel ends up busting him out (Cas baby no!)

Dean thinks Cas is fine, Dean when is Cas ever fine?! He hasn't been fine since he started helping you stupid!!!!!!! I guess Dean says that cuz he needs Cas to be fine, but my God the powers of Dean's denial are so strong!!!!!

Why Cas, why would you give yourself over to the devil 😭 and he was so passive. He only intervened when Lucifer was choking the shit outta Sam and decided oh wait Sam can’t die Dean would hate me forever I must intercede smh.

I have to say the line “grim face of angelic constipation” made me chuckle XD

That episode was pointless though since the supposed hand of God was useless and those people met their fate anyway - shoutout to that crew and the Woman of Letter Delfine - they were heroes. A somber end having Dean sat on his lonesome at the dock.

Sam watchu mean Cas won’t come back willingly - and abandon his sweet Dean. Never! He’s only doing it for Dean in the first place!!! Cuz the only alternative was for the devil go into Sam and there was no way they were gonna let that happen - though it would have made for an interesting season!

Another guy Dean goes Gaga over tho I’m not sure if its him being a fan or something else 😉 lololol

So we meet Eileen this season - she was awesome! She suffered no fools and took no prisoners lol. Almost killed Sam fucking Winchester. Talk about a meet-cute gone brutal 😂

It was nice to see Bobby and Rufus again - especially at Rufus’ savage top form, busting Bobby and everyone else’s balls 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 when he demanded Bobby tell the truth instead of whatever story he was gonna say to seem cool 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

When he sees that family together at the end 😭 what a softie.

Dean got to see Bobby again…awwwww but it turns out this episode (at least the parts that Bobby and Rufus were in) was during season 4 - and Dean was a prissy bitch! So rude, entitled and ungrateful. Bobby shouldn’t have had to put up with that!

Sam got shot but I wasn’t worried! We got 4 more seasons, he ain't going anywhere. But Dean was losing his mind again…Jesus honey there’s more to life than your baby bro! I mean I understand - he raised this boy, invested so much but this shit ain't healthy. He committed suicide to talk to a reaper who’s told him in no uncertain terms that if the Winchesters die she’s gonna keep them that way. Did he really think she’d be willing to cut him a deal? Hell nah. He’s lucky that doctor was good at his job! And that Sam swooped in and saved the day, survivor that he is!

That poor woman at the end though, so devoid of hope, just like Dean will be in a few seasons (yeah I know about that shit. I’ll address it when I finally watch those episodes).

Speaking of Dean losing hope - he works with Crowley & Rowena to try to save Cas. Why does Sam keep saying Cas ain’t coming back - you don’t know - we’re not in season 15 - lemme stop

The way Dean kept calling out to Cas - poor bby. Of course the devil mocked him, what a dick!

Crowley tried to help too, got beat up by the devil (again) for his trouble. Cas c’mon stand up to the son of a bitch!

Amara came busting in like the baddest of bitches - didn’t break a sweat when the devil attacked her.

Cesar & Jesse - ugh I loved them!!!!! We need more Latinos in this show!!! They won’t be back since they apparently retired but good for them! They got the fuck out!

Lol when Dean assumed they were brothers - they look nothing alike Dean 🤣🤣🤣🤣

When Dean asked what it was like - to tough, swole men together like that - why you curious Dean 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

They were really trying to recruit them - I was like oh heeeeell noooooo don’t wrap them up in your shit they’re too innocent sexy bears you leave them alone!!!!! We don’t need to befriend more people to have them die for the Winchesters enough is enough. I’m still not over Kevin. That poor bby.

Part 2 incoming!

#supernatural #supernatural season 11 #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #destiel #sam winchester #kevin tran #chuck shurley #metatron #crowley #rowena macleod #casifer #Cesar and Jesse #Billie supernatural #Amara supernatural

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pochiperpe90 · 3 years

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Here comes “The Old Guard”. Marinelli goes to Hollywood, alongside Charlize Theron.

“Alone, fragile and immortal.”

A story of love, friendship and compassion with an ancient warrior and a young African American, who has just discovered she is immortal, as protagonists. Because the world needs women and courage knows no gender differences. 20 years after “Love & Basketball” and after “The Secret Life of Bees” and “Beyond the Lights - Find Your Voice”, Gina Prince-Bythewood comes to the action movie with very clear ideas on how to reinvent the rules. We talked to her over the phone while she was in Los Angeles during the lockdown.

A superhero movie that doesn't look like a superhero movie. Is that why you decided to make it?

Absolutely yes, when I read the script I realized that despite the fantastic genre there was a very realistic background. These characters are real and it's easy for the audience to relate to them despite being immortal. They fight for goals and reasons that people understand. The more realistic the film, the more viewers can reflect themselves in the protagonists.

In fact, the most fascinating aspect of the characters is their vulnerability: they are immortal, but up to a certain point, which is a paradox. They too have to deal with the sense of the end.

There is a possibility that they may die, that their immortality is interrupted, that they still suffer from their wounds, and this brings them closer to us. The public still feels sorry for them when they see them in danger.

Immortals suffer, and not just physically.

Many think that being able to live forever would be extraordinary, but no one asks what this really means. Immortality has consequences: it can be a gift, but it can also be a curse.

And we don’t know why immortality fell to them.

The thing I loved about the graphic novel and the script is the fact that there is no explanation. Not only do we not know it, but neither do the protagonists. But it is a trilogy and therefore there is still a lot to tell.

Could you offer your contribution to the script?

It was a great script, with great roles based on the graphic novel so I stayed very true to the text. With the author, Greg Rucka, we wanted to reflect on the fear of taking someone's life, the one that sometimes overwhelms soldiers in war, whose psychology is often neglected. Hollywood films have never been very concerned with this aspect, as if killing had no consequences. The protagonists are forced to kill, but if someone has been doing it for centuries, for others it’s the first time.

What struck you about Luca Marinelli?

I could talk about him for days, I love him, he's the actor that all directors dream of having on set. He loved the character and gave him life in a very credible way. Between him and Marwan Kenzari is born a great complicity, necessary between two people who have been together for centuries. Luca's eyes are full of soul, his Nicky is the heart of the group, he’s the most sensitive character of all of them.

Charlize Theron, who is also one of the producers, has an increasingly and more torn body.

Charlize has already played roles like this one, she is very credible in the genre of action and has been helpful to who had never faced it before. From her, who really worked hard, others learned to do the same. She is very credible in the role of a woman who lived for thousands of years.

Matthias Schoenaerts, on the other hand, has an insidious role.

He embodies the tragedy of immortality, loneliness, betrayal. He is the actor who most resembles his character in the graphic novel. He wanted to make the film at all costs because he had never measured himself with the action genre and felt he had things to express.

The film underlines how today it’s no longer possible to hide, images can capture you at any time.

In a scene near the end, when the immortals look at photos and articles about them, they truly become aware for the first time of everything they have done to protect humanity. They understand the power of images from which they continually try to escape in order to hide their identity.

And then we talk about science and profit.

In the film, people from different places join forces to protect the world, a need even more relevant today. Yet it is increasingly evident that profit matters more than human lives.

Do you think the film industry is becoming more inclusive with women?

Things are finally changing and I am grateful that, despite having no other action films on my resume, I have been entrusted with The Old Guard. I am grateful for the trust they have placed in me. It should be taken for granted by now that women are capable of coping with any film genre and I think how much pressure from the industry Patty Jenkins, who directed Wonder Woman to success and opening the door for many of us, went through. But the door must be wide open because there are still few who have such opportunities.

In your opinion, have opportunities grown with the arrival of platforms like Netflix?

Netflix wasn't afraid to trust a series of directors. Which studio would have produced Roma or Irishman? He has the courage to make films that Hollywood deems too risky.

The Golden boy

“Luca Marinelli, as we have never seen him before: in his Hollywood debut, he becomes an immortal and fights with Charlize Theron to save the world.”

Just before the lockdown he was one of the jury members of the 70th Berlinale in the city where he has lived for years - and he swears he had so much fun watching three films a day. The audience awaits him in theatre in the role of Diabolik, in the film directed by Manetti Bros., but on July 10th he arrives on Netflix with The Old Guard, the action movie that sees him alongside Charlize Theron. And where he plays the Italian Nicolo, Nicky for the group of immortals he belongs to. Directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood and based on the graphic novel by Greg Rucka and Leandro Fernández, the film offers Luca Marinelli an insidious superpower, an endless love and a new opportunity to demonstrate his talent as a true champion. We reached him on the phone and he, less shy than usual, told us how he became a secular "superhero".

How did you get to the project?

I auditioned in London, where I later returned and met the director. Lastly, there was a final meeting between me and Marwan Kenzari. We made a scene together and then they announced to me, "We'd love for you to be Nicky."

What struck you about this character?

The story fascinated me because it tells of immortals as if they were the damned. Nicky and Joe live this condition as a gift because they are linked by a wonderful love story and they are not alone. They met in an absurd and paradoxical situation, during the Crusades, ready to kill themselves. They did it a hundred times and then they looked at each other and fell in love. But others suffer from it, like Andy and Booker. In a beautiful scene, Booker, played by Matthias Schoenaerts, explains what happens to them: they see the people they love die and blame them because they cannot prevent it. And they are tired of watching the world repeat itself following the same dynamics. They fight to save people, but everything seems to go on the same way. Only in the end will they discover what they have done and what they are doing.

How did it go with Charlize Theron?

Well, it was wonderful! As I read the script I said to myself: am I really going to make a film with Charlize Theron? And hug as well! I was very excited and intimidated already while reading. She is an extraordinary actress. In the scene where we are at the table and everyone tells Nile something about us, Andy tells her what we are and it was nice to see her running and venturing into the midst of emotions and thoughts. Sometimes I got distracted and didn't say my line. But Charlyze is also a crazy athlete. You have to be really athletes, otherwise you don't survive at the end of the day. And Charlize is an athlete of the body and the heart.

What about her athletic training?

We got together a month before shooting to start working with the stunts. I had to get some athleticism back: when I arrived and they looked at me I think they were a little worried. We had to become familiar with martial arts and then we switched from the sword to other weapons and to hand-to-hand combat. We prepared scene by scene, including the choreographies, different for each fight, and each of us had his own rubber reproduction of the sword. It was an unforgettable training.

The immortals come from different places in the world. How much of Italy is there in Nicky?

Apart from the pronunciation? They still laugh at some of the things I said. Marwan and Matthias, but also Charlize, speak Italian at different levels and every now and then I enjoyed shooting a few sentences to which they could answer me.

Did you offer your character something that wasn't in the script?

Well, being in such a group, shy as I am ... I tried. I have always focused on the bond between Nicky, Joe and the other members of the group, because I am interested in discovering what is inside a character, his feelings, how he looks at the world, what excites him. Nicky has lived for centuries, but still greets the people he meets in the desert with a smile, inside him there is the flame of an infinite good. Each character has a different sensitivity and their own armor. Nicky is perhaps the least armored one.

The challenge was also to make people believe in a love story that has lasted for centuries.

Marwan recites a beautiful monologue in which he talks about their love story. I hope that each of us, in their short life, can say the same thing about the person they love.

You’ve already had superpowers in “They Call Me Jeeg”. What is your relationship with this genre?

I like it very much and I think that both films, very different from each other, have a very interesting soul. In Jeeg Robot, Enzo Ceccotti uses his superpowers to help others, taking on a social responsibility. In The Old Guard the protagonists put themselves at the service of others, even if no one has asked them to. “This is what we do,” they repeat over and over to each other. What they do is save people, participate in what they think is right.

How do you think they would react to protests on American streets and around the world?

I don't feel like playing games, mixing reality and fiction on a terribly real subject like this. I think that in reality, outside of any cinematic fiction, it’s fundamental to fight for equality, within society, but also within ourselves. To go back to our film, if in a microscopic way we manage to carry a message in that direction, I would be very happy.

What director was Gina Prince-Bythewood?

She is always ready to listen, and I am someone who asks a lot of questions even at inappropriate times. She always had great patience and was very attentive to the emotional side of the film, to the interiority and beauty of the characters.

CIAK Magazine - Luglio 2020

Just wanted to translate this old interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)

#Luca Marinelli #marwan kenzari #Charlize Theron #gina prince bythewood #Matthias Schoenaerts #the old guard #TOG #TOG Cast #Film #netflix #magazine #movie #interview #english #english translation #mine #joenicky #joe x nicky #Immortal husbands

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hikarimiyanaga · 3 years

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Loving You (Part 5)

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4

Because exams make me stressed. But I did get through some of them. And I think I only have one more to go! So here comes an update!

Warning : Omegaverse. Beta!Reader x Omega!Wanda Maximoff. Curse Words. Mentions of Bullying. Indication of Self-Harm.

Also, just tell me if I need to add more warnings so I can edit as quickly as I can.

Taglist : @mitchiesdungeon / @upsidedowndanvers / @trikruismybitch / @fayhar / @madamevirgo

Monday comes and you stretch your body. You were spent yesterday. There was an emergency at the firm, so your Mom and your sisters had to be there. So you spent half of the day cleaning the house with your Ma but then she also had to go because the emergency got bigger so you had to go do all the cleaning and chores by yourself. You also didn’t get to talk to Wanda because your phone was inside your room all day. The morning was a blur and you snap out of your daze when someone talks to you.

“Did I do something wrong?” Wanda asks before you could even go to your locker. You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head.

“What? No.”

“Then why didn’t you talk with me yesterday?” You yawn.

“Do I have to?” Wanda gets taken aback as you push past her. She looks shocked at your question. She thought that things were going well? Did she really do something wrong? She clutches her chest as she goes to her first class. Pietro pushes you away from your locker and you let him. It was like the old times where people just shove you or push you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you an idiot?” You don’t answer. You just get your book and close your locker. “Y/LN!” He grabs your arm and you have had enough.

You haven’t had enough sleep.

Your body hurts like someone just smashed it with a sledgehammer.

People are suddenly talking to you.

Your own family doesn’t trust you.

Janine just tried to bully you again last week. You had a nightmare about all the things she had done last year.

You got mad so suddenly because people think you’re trying something when you just want a quiet life.

You’re falling faster and you can’t risk it if Wanda is not your soulmate because you knew that if you do fall then that’s it. A one-time deal that you had no say in.

You dread every day that you get older because it’s just a step away in proving to everyone that you won’t get accepted to colleges.

You’re a Beta who doesn’t deserve to live.

Tears fall and you take a deep breath. Pietro lets go and you thank the stars. You don’t need anyone trying something with you today. You were silent as you wipe your tears away while going to your class.

“Y/LN.” Natasha calls out during lunch and you sigh. You were inside the library and people still somehow found you. You look up to her and sigh as you pack up your things and get your bag. She drags you outside and you just let her. Will this be the day that the Avengers would finally bully you? You just hope they don’t drag along Wanda… damn it. It’s your fault again. Your stomach falls as Natasha drags you to the cafeteria. Will they publicly humiliate you?

“Natasha! What are you-“ Natasha stops as you both get to their table.

“Explain.” You stop as Wanda hides behind Pietro.

“What?”

“Why are you suddenly being a dick?” Angel holds out her hand for them to stop.

“Why are you wearing a jacket?” You pull down your sleeves to hide your wrists and both Wanda and Angel lunge at you, you try to push them away but Natasha tackles you down. She holds you down as Wanda and Angel look at your wrists. They let go as they gasp. You stop resisting and sigh. Natasha checks and glares at you.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” She shouts at you and you don’t even flinch. You look at her with blank eyes and she gulps. What the hell happened?

“Get off me.” You mumble and Natasha complies. You get your bag and get the letter that you received yesterday. “Here.” You hold it out to Wanda and she shakily gets it. You stand and try to leave but Angel stops you. Wanda opens it and cries as she reads. She hugs you and gives Angel the letter. You don’t hug her back.

“What the hell!? Who the fuck sent this!?” Angel shouts and Natasha snatches the letter out of her hand. “You fucking assholes!” Pietro holds Angel back as the Avengers read the letter. Their faces get angrier by the second.

“Who the fuc-“

“Does it matter?” Wanda pulls away and you snatch the letter up. “It’s the truth anyways. Hope you had-“ Angel slaps you and you scoff. “Is that-“ Pietro grabs your collar. He snarls at you.

“This isn’t the truth! For fuck’s sake!”

“It is.” You mumble and Wanda grabs your hand. She drags you to the courtyard and pushes you on the bench that you two always hung out on. She straddles you and you immediately feel calm. She whispers comforting words and you can’t help but hug her. You realize your actions while in daze and you can’t help but cry. You whisper your apologies over and over but Wanda just keep shushing you and rubbing your back.

You groan as the school bell rings. You went to the nurse and got your wrists bandaged up. You’ve been out of it and only went to classes like a drone.

“You okay?” You nod at Angel and get your things into your bag. It’s a good thing that your hand just wrote notes automatically since you knew that nothing got inside your head. “Let’s start tomorrow, okay? Rest up.”

“Thanks.” You mumble as you get out of your last class. You realize that two people were waiting for you and Angel.

“Hey, babe.” Angel greets and Natasha smiles as they hold hands. They kiss and Angel turns to you. “Bye, Y/N, Wanda.”

“Bye.” You both say and wave at them as they leave. You sigh as you face her.

“Wanda. I’m really sorr-“ She hugs you and you hug her back.

“Don’t be. Just.” She pulls away and flicks your forehead. “Tell me next time.”

“About?”

“The letter and the thoughts.” You nod and sigh. You both walk outside.

“It’s just.” You sigh as you run a hand along your hair. “My thoughts got out of hand and there was just no one else in the house.” You clench your fists. “They spiraled before I noticed.” Wanda holds your hand and you calm down.

“That’s why tell me. I’ll run to you if you ever have them.”

“Why?” She smiles and pulls you closer to her.

“Because I meant what I said. I don’t think I could live without you.” You kiss her and she kisses you back.

“Aren’t we moving too fast? We just met a month ago.” She chuckles and pulls away.

“Maybe. But I don’t care.” She intertwines her hand to yours. “This feels right. You feel right.” You smile at her words.

“I love you.” Wanda’s heart beat faster and you smirk as she blushes. “I love how your hand fits with mine. How your scent calms me down. How kissing you feels like I’m on cloud nine.”

“Sweet talker.” She kisses you.

“No. Just being honest.”

You go to school next day with your bandaged wrists exposed and you feel everyone stare at them. You go to Wanda’s locker.

“Hey.” She smiles at you and closes her locker. She takes your hand and you kiss her.

“You’re not covering them.” You hum as you both go to your locker.

“Mom and Ma got angry which is why I’m going to Therapy later. Sorry I can’t meet with you.” She shakes her head as you take your books.

“Your emotional health takes priority.” You pout as you close your locker.

“But you’re my cure.” She pushes you away and you chuckle.

“Shut up.” She mumbles as you take her hand.

“Y/N? No jacket?” Angel asks as she, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and Pietro approach you two.

“Nope.” You show them your wrist and shrugs. “Why bother?” Angel smiles. “By the way, can we start on Thursday for the project? I have a session today and a date tomorrow.”

“Oh? So it’s official now? You two are dating?”

“Oh. They are if they’re not then I’m going to beat up Y/N.” You chuckle as Wanda rolls her eyes.

“You’re only older by twelve minutes, Pietro, don’t push it.”

“Older is older, Wanda.” You laugh as you all get to class.

Lunch comes and Wanda picks you up from your classroom. You both go to the cafeteria.

“Finally eating like normal people?” Angel asks as you and Wanda sit on their table.

“We do eat.”

“Sandwiches and juice. The cafeteria offers much more.” You shrug as you eat.

“Convenient is convenient.” Angel shakes her head at you.

“Y/LN.” Tony calls out and you look at him.

“What’s up?”

“Sorry for being sexist assholes.” You stop and so does everyone else around you. They wait with bated breath. “We judged before we even knew you.” You smile at him and before you could even reply, Natasha says something first.

“Sorry for getting jealous. I don’t like it when anyone else asks for Angel’s number.” You chuckle and nod.

“Thank you for apologizing.” Tony holds out his hand and you accept it.

“Y/N!” Alsie calls out from her car and you turn to Wanda.

“That’s my ride. See you tomorrow?” She nods and you kiss her.

“I love you.” You grin.

“I love you too.”

“So what do you think was the cause?”

“Two phrases. It was ‘always your fault’… and-“ You mumble the last part and your therapist, Dr. Martin lean towards you.

“Y/N. Speak up, I’m af-“ You cut her off.

“Wanda is just pretending.”

“And you believed it?” You laugh.

“Yes. That’s why I was in a daze. I believed every line and every word.”

“Why is that?” You sigh.

“I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Everything that was happening.” You take a deep breath. “People were being nice to me. My sisters suddenly visited. My mom and ma started getting interested in my life… I guess everything was changing and I didn’t want to believe it.”

“Or rather you were afraid of it.”

“Yes.”

“I know changes are a scary thing but they are inevitable. You have all these happenings, what do you think is the root of them?”

“Wanda.”

“Who?”

“Well, she’s-“ You take a deep breath. “I think I’m falling for her.”

“Think?” You shake your head.

“I already am.” Linda smiles and you sigh. “I just- I think it’s too fast. Everything that’s happening.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m just a Beta! I don’t deserve-“

“And that’s why you’re so afraid. You’re second gender.” You nod.

“It’s the reason why I got bullied. Why teachers are ignoring me. Why people avoid me.”

“Why you also got disconnected with your own family.”

“Yes. I believed that I deserved everything because of something that I cannot control.”

“It’s good that you do remember our past sessions.” You chuckle.

“Things are changing and I have to accept them for what they are.”

“Yes. And you’re second gender?”

“Is something I did not choose nor should be ashamed of.”

“How’d it go?” Alsie asks as you stretch your body after leaving Dr. Martin’s office.

“Good.” Alsie nods then stands.

“Where’s the letter?”

“Why? What do you need it for?”

“Things.”

“You’re going to find who wrote it, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You comply and give her the letter.

“Tell me who it is before you destroy their life, will you?”

“Why?”

“I might want to get in a punch or two.” Alsie grins and nods. You both get out and go home.

You go to school the next day and stretch as you walk down the hallways. You see Wanda and smile as you approach her.

“Hey, gorgeous, good morning.” “Morning.” She yawns and you take her hand.

“Is something wrong?”

“Just tired.” Pietro chuckles as he approaches you two. “Mom made her clean our garage all night.” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Why?”

“She was caught sneaking out.”

“For what?”

“You. I wanted to see you.” You grin and kiss her.

“You could’ve just video call me.” She pouts.

“That’s not the same.” You laugh.

“I guess not.”

You hum as you sit on the bench. You just finished your date with Wanda and you were both on a stroll around the park. Wanda straddles you. You hug her and she hums.

“Don’t you have curfew today?” She frowns at you.

“Do you want me to leave?” You shake your head.

“Of course not, but I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to be a bad influence.” You kiss her. “When I meet your parents, I want them to know my intentions with you.”

“What intentions?” You hum.

“That’s for them to know and for you to find out.” She pouts and you chuckle.

You yawn as you and Angel hover your laptop. You were at the cafeteria with the Avengers. You’ve brought your laptop for the day so you two could start the project. Both Wanda and Natasha are fuming with your and Angel’s closeness but you just ignore them. This project costs about quarter of your grade in an AP class. Both you and Angel love them. Really. But priorities need to be put first.

“You two are serious about that project, huh?”

“Quarter of overall grade.” “AP Class.” You both answer and Natasha sighs. Wanda holds your hand and you look at her.

“What’s up?” She shakes her head and you give her a small smile.

“Just wanted to.” You chuckle and kiss her hand. You spend the whole lunch holding her hand whilst paying attention to Angel and making plans for the project. “Y/N.” She calls out and you look at her. She was holding up your meal’s spoon with food on it. “You need to eat.” You sigh and nod. You accept the food and hum. She smiles as you finish it. You kiss her cheek and get back to Angel. She eats her own food as she makes random patterns on your palm.

You groan as you and Angel spend your last class, just researching for the project.

“Miss Wanda that much?” You glare at her and she snickers.

“Shut up.” You grumble and focus on your research.

“That was good.” You hum as you pack up your things and laptop.

“We’re already halfway done.” You both get out and both Natasha and Wanda were waiting for you two. And you flinch as Natasha approaches you.

“Y/LN. Here.” She gives you a book and you look at it.

“Wha-“

“An apology for the last time. I got jealous and was immature. I should’ve trusted you and Angel more.” You sigh.

“You should.” You cross your arms. “She’s your soulmate, woman.” She groans.

“I know. My instinct just told me that you were a threat.”

“Why? I’m only a Beta.” Wanda hits you softly and you smile at her. “Besides.” You take Wanda’s hand and kiss it. “I only have eyes for her.”

“Okay. We get it.” Angel gets Natasha’s hand. “You two are running for the cutest couple.”

“I’m pretty sure you two won that last year.”

“Well now, we have serious competition.” Angel smiles and she holds up her hand. You slap it with yours. You both laugh. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See you too, Gel!” She and Natasha waves at you and Wanda before leaving. Wanda holds in her laughter and you turn to her.

“Gel?” You scoff at her as you two walk together.

“It’s a nickname!”

“What’s that?” You hum and raise an eyebrow at Alsie. It was already Saturday before you knew it and you had a date with Wanda tomorrow since she was busy today. “New book? That’s not your usual genre.”

“You mean her usual documentary, mystery or thriller?” You glare at Valerie who smirks. You sigh as you keep reading.

“Someone gave it to me.” Your two sisters look at each other and they both hum.

“Wanda?” You shake your head and they get taken aback. You had more friends?

“Then who?”

“Romanoff.”

“Natasha? You’re friends with Natasha Romanoff.” You nod and they gasp. You close your book and glare at them.

“WHAT?” They get up in front of your face and you shield yourself with the book. They barrage you with questions and your eye kept twitching as you get more annoyed. The hell is wrong with them? “Stop!” They both back off as you glare at them. “What’s with you two?”

“You know her parents?” You raise an eyebrow as you nod.

“They just switched to our firm last week.” Oh.

“The emergency?” They nod. Alsie gets up and Valerie nods at her.

“They were the reason why we were all needed there.”

“Even Ma?”

“Ma was there to calm the employees down.”

“Ah.” Alsie comes back and holds out a brown folder to you. It says Romanoff Airlines on the side and you take it. “This is?”

“Open it and read it.” You nod and Alsie turns on the TV.

Romanoff Airlines. Opened in 1956 and has been one of the Pioneer Airlines in both Europe and America. This is because of their partnership with Stark Industries who provide the latest technology to Air Transportation through them.

Current Owners: Melina Vostokoff and Alexei Shostakov. Both are Russians and ex-spouses. Although they are divorced, they still live together with their two children.

Heirs: Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova. Both are adopted and have decided to take their biological parents’ surnames but are still living in America and with their adoptive parents.

Natasha Romanoff. Currently attending high school. Can speak many languages (Exact number was not extracted), is friends with Tony Stark, Vision Stark and many others. Is a helper of martial arts clubs. Martial Arts Expert. Is a gifted student, passing all of her classes with flying colors. Decided not to take any AP Classes because it was ‘time consuming’.

Yelena Belova. Currently attending middle school. Can speak many languages. Martial Arts Expert. Gymnast. Gold Medalist.

You read everything before closing it.

“You okay?”

“Why switch to our firm?”

“Apparently because their previous firm was shady and we were recommended by Natasha.”

“Did you ask her why?”

“Yep. She just said that we know why.” Their words click inside your head and you look shocked.

“Me?”

“Most likely.”

“Huh.” You give the folder back to Alsie and hum.

“You good?”

“Yep.” You say as you open your book and continue reading.

A/N:

Because Angst makes me feel things.

I don't think I would ever write a series without an ounce of angst.

Thank you for Reading!

#Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader #Omegaverse #Omegaverse fic #marvel #marvel fanfic #scarlet witch x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

Text

Let the Stars Witness

Okay okay holy— omg I did it! My first request and from an admired writer of mine no less!

From @kim-monsterlings : Hi and welcome!! Really looking forward to seeing your work! ~ If you would, could I request some form of friends to lovers with an orc? (Prompts maybe like, "you deserve better.") Thank you! <3

Since it wasn't specified on what their genders are, I hope your okay with what I went with! And I kinda trailed off from the prompt (or rather it's different but similar)

Anyways you'll know when you read!

•

Pairing: Male Orc (Duruk) x Human Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: None.

•

"You know, I never thought I would be friends with anyone here, especially with someone other than my, well, species," you tell your companion, your eyes not leaving the cloudless night sky as you lied on your back on the roof of his house. The stars were out tonight.

If you told your younger self that you'd be having great escapades (if running away and getting into a series of trouble fall under that) with an orc, you would most definitely cry your eyes out because you thought were being teased, taking it as a hurtful comment. You were sensitive like that. Part of the reason why no one would even go near you, afraid they might hurt you with a pat on the shoulder or with one word alone. You became the prime target of bullies, finding twisted amusement at your pathetic reactions. A crybaby, they called you. But it wasn't your fault you didn't have much control over your emotions. You were weird, asocial, timid, maybe even depressed. Having a neglectful family didn't help either, it just worsened.

•

The morning you met Duruk was after the orientation. And it was not so good for a first impression.

Long story short, you cried.

But since you're perhaps curious as to what happened exactly, let's elaborate.

You had your headphones on, the melodic sound of gentle rain played in a 3-hour loop and blocked out other noises, your eyes glued to the path you were on. You took long and hurried steps, wishing you could teleport to your classroom and hide in the back, disappear or become invisible.

You were distracted, or should we say, focused on the ground and expecting everyone to step aside and let you through.

Well, except for the one who had his back on you.

You crashed—not an exaggeration— into something- someone massive. You stumbled back and landed on your bum, wincing from the impact. Luckily, your headphones were safe (ah yes, priorities), detaching from your ears and landing on your shoulders. When you looked up to see who it was, you thought your eyes were gonna fall off, grow little legs, and scamper away.

Before you stood an orc, halfway turned to glance at whoever it was that tried to push him, his sharp tusks jutting out from his maw. His brows were furrowed as he looked down on you. Sure, he wasn't as tall as the orcs you've seen around the city and campus but still was over 6 feet, with muscles thicker than your thighs, easily hulking you.

You tried to get out an apology and run as far as you could go, but you just sat there, frozen as you strained your neck to meet his gaze, you couldn't look away. Your heart was trying to claw its way out into the surface.

Then you felt the tears swell up.

They cascaded down your face before you even could stop them.

The orc's eyes widened at your reaction and crouched down to your level in an instant that he almost fell over. His hands hovered, not sure what to do.

"Hey, hey, please don't cry. Please don't—"

"I-I-I'm re..really s-sorry p-please don't hurt m-me..." You managed to choke out pathetically, hiccuping in every word.

"Shhh now hey, it's okay. It was an accident— what? No! Why would I do that?" he replied. The orc peeked over his shoulder and to the sides. "Let's get you to somewhere, uh, less crowded," he added. You turned your head and saw that you had an audience, whispers went around as they sent pitiful and disgusted glances in your direction, only making you cry even more.

He proceeded to unceremoniously lift you into his arms, bridal style, and dashed away. You gripped the front of his shirt and shut your eyes. You were trembling now, scared of what he might do to you. How could you even fight back with your small stature?

It wasn't long until you felt him slow down and placed you carefully on a bench. The orc knelt in front of you, brows scrunched up as he studied your face.

"You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You didn't reply, only staring at him through your glassy eyes as you heaved.

You flinched when his hand started rubbing your back, his other hand placed on the side of the bench to balance himself.

He continued to caress your back and murmured soothing words in hopes of calming you down.

Your tears didn't stop falling until moments later when you came down from your initial fear, the warmth of his palm leaving your back once you did. All the while the orc remained where he was, at a loss of what to do next.

You rubbed your sticky face with the collar of your pale and blotchy crimson sweater, sniffing and taking slow, deep breaths before you spoke.

"I... I'm sorry for causing you trouble. E-Even going as far as to take me somewhere quiet. I...appreciate that." You thought you'd pass out with the way people gathered around you, it was suffocating. "Thank you..."

"I panicked," he started, "Sorry—I mean, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I get that a lot of people run away from the sight of me, but you didn't, and just froze there on the ground so..." he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

You shook your head. He was such an imposing figure to many, their first thought was most likely to get away or scream at him.

"You looked angry... When I bumped into you." You slammed into him actually, but he didn't budge an inch. Guess it was one-sided.

"Oh, that? Well, my brother scolds me a lot for having such a grumpy face, scaring humans away. Like he was the one to talk when he's taller and bigger than me! People would faint on the spot when they see him, I bet!"

The image your mind conjured up tore a laugh out of your body, two orcs arguing about how not to terrify people at sight was damn hilarious. When was the last time someone made you laugh like this?

The orc grinned, your reaction a contrast to that of earlier.

You opened your mouth to say something but the ringing of the great bell resounded, cutting you off. The two of you stood up as you realized you were late for your first class of the school year.

"So, uh, what now?" you asked.

"How about we go to our class, then maybe meet up later? Oh, fu— my mother will gut me— I haven't introduced myself!" He blurted out, his voice making you yelp with the sudden outburst.

Clearing his throat, he reached out, "I'm Duruk."

In turn, you gave him your name, taking his hand and smiled. "Hello, Duruk."

•

True to his word, you met again later when lunch came. The cafeteria was packed so you settled on getting the convenience food they offered and eat somewhere quiet.

Your conversation that day spiraled when you found out the two of you had a lot in common. From your favorite rock band to your favorite flavor of ice cream.

You both strongly agreed that vanilla ice cream was superior.

You agreed to meet up during breaks, always having something to chat about.

Eventually, you became inseparable.

He even changed and transferred to your class just so the two of you could be together at the start of the day rather than walk half of the campus to see each other every time.

You became best friends, sharing each moment in school, may it be helping the other stay awake in a boring class, or copying homework when one of you forgot to do it. Soon enough, Duruk started inviting you to his house to hang out. He did mention he had four other siblings, but he lived alone. You came by almost every night and on whole weekends to escape from home, only a few miles in between. No one would notice you gone anyways, but you returned around midnight, not wanting to impose on Duruk no matter what he says, so he walks you back instead.

You basked in each other's company. The odd and scrutinizing glares didn't go unnoticed when you two were together, but you shrugged them all off.

It didn't take long before you started having feelings for the orc, a little wishful thinking that you could be more than friends. You noted lately that his touches would linger seconds longer than usual, hugs and even a hand on your shoulder and back seem to be warmer and —you dare say— affectionate. It weighed heavily on your heart, your simple crush turned into something else, and it only grew with each passing day, and every laugh you shared.

But of course, you swatted those away, buried them deep inside every damn time they climb back up. Who could even love you? Yes, you have Duruk, he likes you, you think. But that's the end of it. Just close buddies. You can't take the risk of ruining your friendship with him and make things awkward with the only one you had! What if he stops talking to you, weirded out by your confession? You don't want to go back to being alone again, your heart can't take the rejection that came with it.

So you endured.

•

A little over five months ever since the embarrassing accident, here you are now, stargazing with your best friend.

"Well, good thing you didn't watch where you were going that time then," he says, chuckling beside you. His hands cushioned his head against the hard surface. "I wouldn't have..." he trails off.

"Hm, what?" you ask. Duruk went silent and didn't answer you for a time. You were about to let it slide but then he breathes in audibly.

"I wouldn't have met an angel if you did. Should've caught you in my arms, but sadly I didn't move fast enough." He replies, his voice deep and mellow.

You straighten up and turn to face him, your brows shot up, incredulous to what he just implied.

"W-Wait. What?" you squeak, your heart thumping hard in your chest, your skin warming up even in the chilled night air.

Is he—

"You're so cute, y'know that? Fuck it, it's all or nothing," he whispers under his breath as he sits up to face you. His expression was unreadable, but you see in his mahogany eyes a familiar glint of determination. "I'm not good with long-ass speeches so I'll make this short," he breathes in before he continues, "I feel something for you, for a while now, more than a best friend does, like...in a romantic sense. I want to cherish you and hold you in my arms every time I see you, I- ah fuck- damn it I just—" he growls, "I love you, so much and if you don't love me back then please re—"

You shut him off with your lips against his, Duruk's tusks pressing against your cheeks as you held his face in your hands. He was stunned for two solid seconds before returning the kiss, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you close and into his lap.

You feel something wet roll down your hand and you immediately jerked back to see his face. The orc was crying.

Did you do it wrong? Were you so terrible at it—

"I don't deserve you... A monster like me doesn't deserve an angel like you."

Where was this coming from??

"Say that again, I dare you."

"I don't de—"

This idiot!

You pecked his lips to cut him off.

"You big dummy," you begin, "I love you too, idiot. You may be a monster but not what everyone else defines you as. I love you as you are. You're my best friend, and dare I say my l-lover now. Is that right...?"

Duruk gives you a small, gentle smile, "If you'll have me, then yes, for as long as you want me to be." He says, sniffling a sob as a couple more tears tumbled down his rugged face.

You never thought you'd see him like this. He was the one who kept making you laugh with his stories and terrible jokes. Before you, in your hands was someone vulnerable, his eyes soft and fond as he gazed into yours.

It made your heart pound and it hurt.

You leaned in and he met you halfway, kissing once again, deeper and more intimate this time. Real. You brought your arms around his neck, your tears spilling out and he tightened his grip around you. It felt like a dream, too good to be true, but the way he hugged you like you were the only thing that anchored him in this world made you believe it wasn't. All of this was real and you couldn't be anymore happier.

From above, the glittering stars, the light gentle as they shone, bear witness to two freed hearts, bottled up feelings gushing out like a broken dam as you embraced one another and lost yourselves in the moment of bliss, cheeks stained and clothes lightly damp from the tiny rivulets of liquid that dropped down.

It's a lovely night, isn't it?

#athenawrites #my writing #exophilia #monster lover #orc lover #orc x human #monster boyfriend #orc boyfriend #orc x reader #monster x human #requests #fiction #terato #romance #monster romance #orc

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yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years

Text

•The Grey Area•

Part One: •Fallen Angel•

Summary: You're Enji Todoroki's prized possession, his Angel. Given this name because of your pure, white wings. Your quirk is truly unique, until you come face to face with Enji's new friend and hit man, Hawks. His presence shakes you, his abilities intimidate you. The roll he plays in your life? That's up in the air.

Pairing: Keigo Takami x FemReader, Endeavor x FemReader

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death, descriptions of death, sexual themes and implications, mentions of harassment, (Eventual smut, as well as other warnings- they will be at the beginning of each chapter.)

Word Count: 4,471

A/N: I'm gonna write this shit til I get sick of writing it. Not to suck my own dick but I am in love with this story idea so we're just gonna keep rolling til it feels right to end it lmao.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Silk may be the worst material ever invented. It slips and slides and hides absolutely nothing. Your lungs deflate as you slide your hands down the front of the horrid thing you've been asked to wear. It was laid out on your bed for you, with a small note that said, "Get dolled up for me." It isn't signed, it doesn't need to be.

It's a note from the man that more or less owns you. He likes to say he takes care of you, you like to say he holds your leash. At the end of the day, coming to him was what you needed to do to survive, so you did it. You shake the thoughts of how you came to be here from your head, ignoring the dreadful remnants of a time when you were desperate enough to turn to him for protection.

Enji Todoroki lives one of the most complex double lives in existence. He’s a magnificent hero, topping the charts and staying there. He saves lives, lets his flames shine bright, he's a beacon of hope.

He’s also an incredibly feared underground crime lord. When the flames are off, he's no longer heroic, he's no longer honorable. He's bloodthirsty, his friends are few and his enemies are many.

Keeping these two realms separate is quite the task, but he pulls it off with his vast wealth and by calling in the seemingly limitless favors from those he’s helped out of sticky situations.

The supposedly heroic faces you’ve seen slinking around his estate were jarring at first. The mighty do indeed fall, and they tumble right into his lap. They’re always after something, a loan, various narcotics, maybe some illegal steroids to increase their performances.

Enji loves a bargain, he loves to string those poor saps along until they’re too confused to agree to anything that’s reasonable. It’s horribly entertaining, as backwards as it all is, you’ve grown fond of the way he befuddles every hopeless individual that finds themselves desperate enough to seek out his help.

Usually, you’re there by his side. You block out the conversation as you serve drinks, laugh at the bad jokes, and most of all, look pretty. Your job is to be his greatest manipulation tactic. Give the suckers something to drool at, get them drunk, stay out of the way so Enji can lock in whatever deal he’s making.

You ruffle your hair, straighten your dress, and take one final glance in your mirror.

There’s a familiar tightness in your chest when you acknowledge the real reason you’re used as something to gawk at.

Your wings.

Two broad, unruly, attention grabbing, white wings emerging from your shoulder blades. Little speckles of brown and black exist among the sea of white feathers that fall all the way to the floor. The feathers at the tips always look pitiful, since their entire existence is spent dragging the floor.

They’re useless things, heavy and cumbersome and completely nonfunctional. You could probably fly if you wanted to, if somebody would teach you. You never stood a chance at that though, your parents couldn’t even begin to do so, and Enji certainly won’t waste energy on it. No, he likes having you on the ground. Safe and sound, much more convenient to keep you without a cage.

The bones of them often ache, obviously needing to be used, desperate to do their job. They most resemble the wings of a Barn Owl. Along with the wings, your quirk provides you with exceptional vision and hearing. Sometimes it feels like a sixth sense, like you can tell when things are going to happen before they actually do.

This, of course, makes you invaluable to Enji during his meetings. You’re able to pick up on nervous ticks, listen to the whispers, and tip him off. He does love keeping you around for that, you’ve assisted him innumerable times, and he always rewards so generously. He keeps you comfortable, spoiled even, anything for his Angel.

Enji’s Angel.

It was never very official, he just started calling you by it, and you started answering to it. In your younger years it was almost affectionate, slightly comforting. Now, it’s a scarlet letter, a stage name, belonging to somebody who doesn’t quite exist.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The meeting is absolute torture. Some schmuck is sitting across from you and Enji, blubbering his way through some bullshit about how he’ll have the money next week. You’re perched on Enji’s lap, reclining against his chest with your chin up high.

You’re all sitting around a large oak coffee table in Enji’s office, drinks in hands, guns in holsters.

“I swear, the guy I know, he owes me, he says he’ll have the money by this weekend, maybe even sooner!” The sniffling client begs. He’s a pitiful little man, all short and greasy looking, with bulbous eyes that sit above a large aquiline nose.

“Oh, how reassuring, my money is in the hands of a friend of a liar,” Enji sneers, voice low and menacing, “Doesn’t that put you at ease, Angel?” His hand snakes around your waist, making his claim on you evident to everyone in the room.

The client brought two goons with him, both sit on the lavish loveseat, watching with putrid envy as Enji’s hands roam across your middle.

You run your hand up his massive chest, making a show of adjusting your hips in his lap. You flash your eyes up to his and roll your shoulders, wings rippling as you do. The room is taken over by a heavy, consuming silence.

You survey Enji’s face, void of flames for such a serious event. You hear hearts beat faster, breathing quicken, idiots, every one of them.

“No, I don’t think it does, sir.” You purr, hand playing with the collar of his grey dress shirt.

This whole charade used to make your skin crawl, feeling eyes burn into your flesh, knowing that if Enji weren’t here you’d be laid out on the table while the pigs around you took turns.

You expressed this once, crying and shaking as you begged Enji to stop bringing you into them. His only response was to demand that you tell him whenever somebody was making you uncomfortable, and he would gladly take care of it.

It only took one client, one dense motherfucker who put his hand on your thigh. The second his hand was on you, Enji put a bullet in his head. You watched the blood splatter, and the body hit the floor, but ripped your eyes away after that. You turned into Enji’s chest, clutching him as you realised it was all your doing, Enji had killed for you.

Since then, you vowed to maintain a facade of confidence in these meetings. If Enji were to kill, it would be because of his own corrupted motives, not for you, never again.

You no longer let the bile rise in your throat, you don’t look away from any perverse gaze. You keep your nerves steady, and you stare the bastards down.

One of the goons shifts in their seat, making Enji shoot him a warning glance as you continue to fiddle with his shirt.

“I don’t think it’s wise to leave so much money up to ‘maybe’ and ‘this guy’.” You sigh as you slide off Enji’s lap, keeping your hand on his chest as you slink around to stand behind him. He gives you a knowing look, full of admiration and pride, he does love watching you perform.

Show time.

You flutter your wings out to the sides, stretching them, making a spectacle of them. All three of the men watch with comically amazed expressions. Their jaws may as well be on the floor, you slide your hands onto Enji’s broad shoulders so you can rub small circles into his muscles.

“I agree, I don’t like all this ‘maybe’ bullshit.” the energy in the room thickens as he speaks, falling into heavy silence in reverence of the power his voice exudes.

"Angel, will you grab us some more drinks?" You draw yourself up tall, ignoring the eyes that gorge on your decolletage.

"Yes Sir." You lean down to place a sweet kiss on Enji's cheek, flashing a little too much skin for his guests.

"Isn't she lovely, gentlemen?" He wonders out loud, looking up at you fondly.

No, not fondly, possessively, greedily. There's no loving tenderness that comes with fondness.

The men nod quietly, all afraid to cross a line, none willing to speak out of turn.

"Do a spin for them, sweetheart." He grabs your wrist and pulls you around to his side.

Your cheeks and ears run hot as he lifts your arm for you to spin, leaving space for your wings. You give a smooth twirl, feathers and dress flowing around you with a subtle woosh.

"Men would kill for her, don't you think?" Another round of silent nods, another wave of tense energy.

"I have." It's a warning, loud and clear.

He waves his hand in your direction, dismissive and bored.

"Go on, Angel. I have to have a private word with our guests." You glide out of the room gracefully, walking slowly enough so they can all watch you leave.

You swallow the terrible feelings rising in your gut, knowing damn well how rarely people leave that room alive after a "private word". You find your way to the kitchen easily, a tray of drinks already prepared on the fine granite countertop.

Enji's estate is nothing short of magnificent, all expensive foreign materials, gold fixtures and crystal chandeliers. All supplied by his mass of illegally acquired wealth.

One of the sweet little maids nods at you, gawking at your wings as always. You have a strange relationship with the staff at the house, they always treat you like some skittish animal. Afraid that you're unpredictable, even dangerous.

It's always seemed odd to you, but you've grown to understand it. None of them know where you came from, nor how you ended up in Enji's good graces, let alone a cherished prize to him.

On your way back down the hall, you hear the shouting of men, not an usual occurrence, but this time it makes your blood run cold. It sounds much more… painful, then usual. Cries for help mixed with curses and strangled yells. You freeze when the door rattles with such force, the only explanation can be that a body was thrown against it.

Then, there's silence. Silence, followed by sick laughter. You know Enji's voice too well, his rich tone fills your ears, but there's one other. Did he have an accomplice? It's not uncommon for Enji to have all his bases covered, so it's possible one of the goons was a double agent.

Your feet find their function again and you pad quietly towards the door. You take a second to breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the inevitable bloodshed you're about to witness.

You rap your knuckles on the door very quietly, wouldn't want to disturb the dead.

"Angel? Is that you?" Enji's voice calls as his laughter settles, the other man went silent as soon as your hand met the wood of the door.

"Yes sir." You say, trying to keep your voice soft but still wanting to be heard.

"Oh shit, get this out of the way."

A body.

You hear something slide then drop, and your chest squeezes with guilt. One day you won't have these feelings, one day seeing someone drop dead will evoke no more feeling than watching dead hair fall to the ground after it's trimmed. At least, that's what Enji tells you.

The door cracks open, a wall of a human standing on the other side of it. Enji beams down at you, the smallest amount of blood decorates his gray collar.

"Why do you always get so messy when I leave?" You tease, despite the sick feeling in your gut.

"It's a messy business." He counters, holding the door for you to step into the room. You expect the slit throats, the smell of blood, and the horrid joy in Enji's face. What you don't expect, is the creature poised in the corner of the room.

A creature with wings. No, not a creature, a man. With menacing, vibrant, crimson wings. His face is nothing but sharp serious lines, highlights of gold with intense shadows. He's covered in slim fitting black clothing, giving him a tactical and militant look.

He looks so powerful, and so beautiful. The only thing you can think to compare him to is a fallen angel, heavenly, but haunting.

In his hands, he holds a… sword? Then he steps further into view, and you see the blade shift. A feather. With a smooth, deadly twitch of his wrist, he flicks the rigid feather. It sends blood splattering across the floor where he stands.

His glowing eyes watch you, waiting for you to react, maybe waiting for you to scream, run away and hide. You can't, though, you're entranced. He has wings. Your own twitch behind your back, suddenly feeling even more cumbersome and useless after seeing how athletic and beautiful his own are.

As gruesome as the scene is, he's magnificent, stunning in such an overwhelming way. His eyes rake over your body, but it doesn't feel perverse, it feels like he's sizing you up, estimating your abilities.

Because he is.

"Angel, this is Hawks, he's a very good friend of mine." Enji explains, relaxing back into his chair as you and Hawks continue to watch each other.

You would never know it, but his breath hitched the second he saw you. Enji had told him about his Angel, but his description did you no justice. To Hawks, at least, you look capable, intimidating even. Your wings are equal in size to his, but compared to your smaller frame they look so fierce.

Neither of you has seen or heard of someone with a quirk like yours, or even remotely similar. So you stand there, amazed, in fear, sizing each other up.

"Isn't she something?" Enji's voice pulls you out of your trance, your eyes finally breaking from his friend's.

Hawks just hums, eyes still locked on your form as you set the tray of drinks down in front of Enji. He pours one for himself, then one for you, and one for Hawks. You take a glance around at the gore surrounding you, and shake your head at the drink.

"Not tonight, I'm tired." You try to sell it as best you can, but Enji sees right through you.

"Her stomach isn't very strong yet, sensitive little thing." He says to Hawks.

When you glance over to him, his reaction unsettles you. He grins, a broad, breathtaking thing. He's amused, embarrassed for you. How silly of you to be so bothered by a fucking murder scene.

Aside from the dead bodies, you can't stand another second under the predatory gaze of Enji's new friend. The whole scene makes you more uncomfortable than anything has in a long while. It's very apparent by Enji's lack of weapons, and by Hawks' feral appearance, that Hawks is some kind of hit man.

"Get some rest, then." Enji says dismissively.

You kiss him on the cheek, earning a rare smile from his usual straight lips. There's no affection behind your kiss, but there is loyalty, and he knows that.

Doing your best not to seem like you're in a rush, you keep your head down and walk steadily towards the door.

"Nice to meet you, Angel." His voice is like caramel syrup, dripping over you and heating you up.

You hate it.

You give him nothing but a turse nod then duck out the door, trying to keep your heart in it's cage, trying to keep your hands from shaking. What the hell was that?

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You spend some time in the library before heading to bed. The fireplace crackles and pops, casting beautiful, dancing lights on the dark oak bookshelves. It's not a massive library, but it's decent. Full of books that have been collected by Enji, but not read. You do the reading, he does the acquiring.

Not tonight, though. Tonight you just sit, you sit and overthink. You can't seem to shake the uneasy feeling this "Hawks" character gave you. He was so primal looking, so unhinged, so… beastly.

The contrast of his beauty is what keeps punching you in the gut. He was nothing short of stunning, like a marble statue brought to life by an enchantress. That's even without his wings. God, his wings. He must look spectacular in the air, so majestic.

You stuff the thought down, deep down. The longing in your chest is enough to make your eyes sting with tears. Flying. A feeling you've never known, but the instinct burns beneath your skin. You wonder if even knows how lucky he is…

You grab onto those thoughts before they run away, standing to your feet with a stretch and a ruffle of your own wings.

You just need sleep, you need to shake this off. Enji has plenty of "friends", plenty of lowlifes and murderers that he keeps close. Hawks is no different, he'll linger for a bit, then disappear under mysterious circumstances, and you'll never hear his name again.

The thought should bring your comfort as you travel to your bedroom, but as you wander through the halls, your chest aches. Somehow, the idea of not knowing all you can about this stranger makes you itch. Which in turn, makes you detest his presence even more. There's no reason for such a fascination… aside from your resemblance to him.

The sound of your bedroom door latching behind you does bring you some piece, lifting some of the weight off of your lungs. Until you hear the slightest ruffle echo from the direction of your window.

The hair on your neck stands on end as you draw your wings up to their full size. Your shoulders are rigid, fists clenched as you whip your head around to identify the sound.

"Do you always sleep with the door unlocked?" That sugary voice falls on your ears once again, raising goosebumps all over your body.

You don't answer, you only watch, inching backwards towards the door. There could be only one reason one of Enji's friends would corner you like this, the thought makes your heart beat to the point of nearly breaking through your chest.

He's perched on your windowsill, feet dangling into the room, wings relaxed behind him as the wind catches his scarlet feathers. The curtains away around him as they catch the cool breeze, the whole scene gives him an almost ghostly look, especially with the pale light of the moon as the only illumination in your bedroom.

"Easy, kid." He slides off lazily, arms crossed as he saunters towards you, "I just wanted to talk."

His lips quirk up into an easy smirk, something that makes your insides stir.

"Talk quick, then get out." You snap, pressing your back against the door, drawing your wings in around yourself protectively as your arms wrap around your chest. He stops nearly a foot from you, his own wings spread wide, almost like he's showing off.

The energy is thick, pressing on your lungs as you watch his face. He looks down his nose at you, not judging, but observing. His eyes are lit with a patient look, something soft but relatively unreadable. His proximity overwhelms you, even up close, you're hard pressed to find a single flaw.

There you stand, shrouded in scarlet, him in white. Both waiting for the other to speak, or move, or even breathe. Desperate for some evidence that you were both real and not some apparition sent to mock your poor mortal brain with an image of unparalleled perfection.

Wild, dazzling, gilded eyes search your face. Predatory pupils slit as he takes in every detail he can. His chest rises, and he speaks. He utters a simple, "They're beautiful." and everything shatters.

A cadence of feelings builds within your chest, tuning up like an orchestra. All unorganized noise, arching and mixing, impossible to focus on anything in particular.

Then the most beautiful part, the settling of the chaos. All of the instruments find their notes as they fade out. The anticipatory silence settles within you, preparing you for the moment when they all roll into the first cord of their symphony.

You don't feel right taking the name Angel, not after this, not after you've seen one. Your reverence for his beauty is short lived, though. As soon as you remember the way his eyes were wild with bloodlust, the way he had taken lives with his own feathers.

Admiration is replaced with apprehension. However, the strongest feeling is curiosity, morbid, forbidden curiosity.

You shove the compliment to the far corners of your brain, ignoring the fire it stokes in your heart.

"Talk or leave." You say shortly.

"Not a fan of flattery?" He asks, quirking a thick eyebrow.

"Not a fan of coercion." You reply, arms drawing tighter around your chest.

Hawks pauses for a moment, considering your answer.

"What are you a fan of?" His smile grows a bit more as he turns away from you on his heels, looking almost bored. You stay glued to your door, wrapped around yourself, completely frozen.

"Well, I'm usually a fan of not having my room invaded by murderers." You sneer, attempting to ignore the way his body moves so elegantly as he investigates your room with fabricated intrigue.

He scoffs a bit at your feisty retort, looking over his shoulder to give you quick up and down with his eyes. He wanders back to the window, back to you as he takes a look out.

"A murderer. That's a bold accusation, sweetheart." He turns around again, backlit by the moonlight.

"Can you use em'?" He asks, nodding behind you.

The question bites at your insides, it twists your guts up onto angry knots.

You shake your head, you can't say it out loud, you can't admit it.

His face falls the slightest bit, less amused, more aware. Perhaps he feels sympathy, imagining a life without the freedom of flight.

"I see." He says quietly, "A dove?" He wonders out loud.

His prying starts to eat at your patience, you already feel intruded upon by him sneaking into your bedroom, and now he wants to dissect your anatomy? Yet, you still find yourself drawn to the conversation, hanging on his words, hoping to gain information about him in exchange for information about yourself.

"Owl." You say simply, easing off the door a little so you can spread your wings some, "The markings give it away."

He nods, taking in the messy brown and black speckles at the tips.

"How did you do that with your feather?" You ask, works spilling out a little too fast.

Both of his eyebrows shoot up, surprised by your sudden engagement in the conversation.

His only reply is by drawing himself up by his shoulders. Then, miraculously, one of his feathers flies from his wing, darting straight for you until it pauses in front of your face. You flinch slightly before it pauses, then you stand transfixed, watching the small crimson blade levitate before you.

You want to reach out and grab it, find the string that's holding it up, find the answer to this magic trick.

"Pretty cool, huh?" He says, full of confidence as he sways back over to you, "You can touch it." He says gently.

So you do, you take it into your hand gently. The texture is shocking, it's soft and silky, much more pleasant than your coarse and textured feathers.

"How?" You ask, amazed by his abilities.

He shrugs and turns around again, pacing back to the window. You take a mental note of his inability to stand still for longer than a few seconds.

"I just… can." He says it so matter of fact, like it's the obvious answer.

Now that he's more relaxed, not holding a feather dripping with blood, he seems almost... Friendly? He certainly seems less frightening, less aggressive and formidable.

You hold the feather in your palms, waiting for the next trick.

"Keep it." He says as he settles back down onto the windowsill, sitting like he was when you first found him.

He stretches an arm around to brace on the outside of the window frame, leaning back into the open air of the night. For a brief moment you panic, knowing you're on the third floor, but then you just feel stupid for being concerned for a person with functioning wings.

"Why?" You ask, closing in your hands as you look up at him.

His smile is devilish, he rolls his shoulders back and lifts himself up to his feet. He crowds the large window, filling it with his lean body and those powerful wings.

"In case you need me." He winks and gives you a lazy, two finger salute before letting himself fall away into the sky.

Your chest lurches as you dart to the window, desperate to see him in action, desperate to see someone fly.

By the time you reach the window, though, he's nowhere to be seen. Evaporated into the stars, not even the sound of beating wings left as evidence.

You glance down at the feather in your hands, and notice it twitch to life before it floats up to hover in front of your face again. Your chest fills with an absolute mess of unorganized, chaotic feelings that you can't even begin to pull apart and make sense of.

The feather flicks under your chin, tickling the skin there with its pointed tip. You snatch it roughly, irritated with the teasing, perturbed by his nonchalance. You slam the window shut before huffing over to your dresser, you rip a drawer open and shove the feather between your clothes.

You slam it shut as the raging sea of emotions beats against your chest, drowning your lungs as well as any cognitive brain function.

You can't make sense of any of this shit, you can't imagine how anyone could have ever made it up to your room without Enji's knowledge. Unless… he was let up… but that doesn't make any sense. None of it does. It's all so cloudy, you feel thousands of questions swarm your brain, and you don't possess a single answer.

The only thing you know for sure, is that you have to find out more about this fallen angel, you have to find out more about Hawks.

#takami keigo #my hero academia #hawks #hawks au #my hero au #my hero smut #hawks angst #mha hawks #my hero hawks #keigo takami #Keigo #keigo x you #hawks x you #hawks series #keigo takami smut #hawks smut

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mirrorgrets · 3 years

Text

i hate you, i hope you die

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, graphic descriptions of violence

Pairings: Pannacotta Fugo/Giorno Giovanna (but like. barely.)

Wordcount: 2,224 words

Summary: Fugo returns to Passione and everything falls back into place. He's sworn his loyalty to Giorno and Giorno trusts him. But he hates the very same boy who saved him.

The thing is Fugo hates Giorno.

No, that's wrong. It's more like he wishes he hates Giorno.

When he sank to his knees, lips barely grazing Giorno's knuckles, he felt a pit in his stomach growing bigger and bigger as he said his vows. He felt like he signed his life away to this angel of death. For what? For guilt? For nothing? For a lack of understanding as to why he was still alive and not them?

Sometimes he stares at Giorno, notices little details that he doesn't think anyone who doesn't stare at Giorno for too long notices. Details like how he has an odd habit of pulling his collar when he's nervous; like he has a single pockmark just where his jaw meets his neck; like he stands a bit straighter when someone raises their voice; like he raises his hand like he wants to cover his mouth when he laughs; like he cycles through certain hair ties and ribbons throughout the week.

It drives him insane that at this point, he might know more about Giorno than he knows about Bucciarati, Abbacchio, and Narancia combined—and that says a lot. Bucciarati found him when he was thirteen and it was just them for a while. It was just the two of them in Bruno’s apartment, careful footsteps turning into comfort and routine somewhere between the shootouts, the blood, and the stitches. Then Abbacchio arrived with wary eyes and a sharp tongue and way too many apologies before he settled into his actual asshole self. At that point, Fugo moved out into his own apartment which was only two blocks away. Then he found Narancia, maybe out of inspiration from Bucciarati or something, and while they tried to keep him away from the life of a Mafioso, he weaseled in somehow, manifesting a stand fair and square.

Fugo wonders what it might be like to murder Giorno. He dreams of it when goes to sleep, which isn't often because he hardly goes to sleep nowadays and most of the time, sleep catches him and not the other way around.

Sometimes Giorno dies by his hands around his neck, sometimes it's Mista's stolen gun, sometimes it's by an ax, sometimes it's with a tie, sometimes an encyclopedia. But it's never Purple Haze Feedback. Never his own stand. And dream Giorno who's dying knows this all the damn time. Dream Giorno will look at him with the widest eyes like he's looking at God Himself, like he's a revelation meant to be worshipped. Sometimes his hands will cup his cheek (sometimes bloody, sometimes shaky); sometimes he'll push his forehead against Fugo's; sometimes he'll hold Fugo tight, sometimes like he's made of glass; and sometimes he'll lean in far too close and apologize to Fugo.

He hates that he always wakes up before Giorno can take his last breath and hates himself even more for feeling that way.

Fugo avoids Giorno when he can.

Somehow it's easy and at the same time, not. He meets him whenever he receives an assignment, and Giorno looks like he wants to speak to him. But he never pushes and Fugo is allowed to leave and fuck off and kill more people with a gun, a knife, or anything. At times, Fugo will stay just a second more and wonder if Giorno will take a step or half a step like he said he would but he never does so he leaves and wonders why he feels like he just woke up from his fucked up dreams.

When Fugo isn't murdering or interrogating someone, he's usually doing the dull administrative tasks of Passione like sorting through the legal jargon to find loopholes and accounting for logistics or whatever the hell he can get his hands on because he wants to stay busy, damn it.

His chest feels empty most of the time. It's not like he doesn't know why. It might be depression but he doesn't care enough to forge a prescription this time round. Or maybe it's because no one is pushing him to forge a prescription, unlike last time. Or well, Sheila E tries to make him forge a prescription and she did steal a bunch for him, orange canisters full and all. But she doesn’t force him to take them. She doesn’t hang around his shoulder unlike Bucciarati did when he… unlike when Bucciarati did with his straightforward stares and the little notes he left around Fugo’s apartment. She doesn’t make snide remarks unlike Abbacchio and doesn’t keep him company in the dead of night when everything is too loud even when it’s just quiet. She doesn’t remind him like Narancia did with all the subtlety of a douchebag riding a Ferrari.

So the canisters stay full but Fugo keeps them by his bedside because maybe one day and well, he likes the reminder that at least someone cares.

(Murolo does his own thing too but when he does, Fugo’s far too gone to even remember what Murolo does and the man never reminds him so he’s grateful for that too)

It's not like Fugo is afraid of dying. He goes into each mission like he might die and when he comes out alive, buzzing with manic energy that makes him want to break down and punch the nearest object in the vicinity, he's always disappointed. Sometimes he looks at the gun he owns in his bathroom and he wonders if he should just pull the trigger and collapse, his head bashing against the toilet, bleeding out to die if he doesn't hit the right spot.

He pulls the trigger every other day but the cartridge is always empty.

Today is no different from other days. Fugo startles awake, eyes blinking rapidly as he realizes that he did not kill Giorno. He stumbles into his bathroom, washes himself, looks at the mirror, looks at the gun, takes it and points it between his eyes, pulls the trigger, and leaves for work.

When he arrives at Passione's headquarters, he heads straight to his office to look over the legal documents Giorno asked him to look over. He doesn't bother to greet anyone since no one bothers to greet him. He's the traitor of Passione and he's fine with that. It keeps people away which means there are fewer people to perform for and fewer people to try to keep away.

The day goes by as usual. Fugo works through his pile until there’s almost nothing there and then some guy he never got to learn the name of drops a bunch of more work for him to do just before lunch. And Fugo won’t eat lunch until he’s burnt out or Sheila E comes to collect him from his office and forces him to eat. Fortunately for him, Sheila E is away on a mission with Murolo so he can do whatever he wants to do without anyone giving him those disappointed stares.

In all honesty, Fugo feels like he’s mellowed down. The six months away from Passione forced him to at least hold back most of his anger and he played piano in some restaurant as a job and he was good at it.

But he didn’t enjoy it. After playing, he would go home, wreck his already shitty apartment and return everything back to how it was before he crashed on his couch. So maybe the reason why he feels like he’s submerged underwater half the time because he feels like he’s playing a piece on the piano before he has to go home, just going through the motions, and pretending.

Fugo stretches his arms and looks at the clock on his desk. 10:45 pm. Time to head home then.

Then it all comes crashing down.

Or more like, Fugo feels like he’s been ripped out of the water, like he’s gone on those stupidly high and fast waterslides that children aren’t allowed on because when you hit the water, you tumble around and experience some kind of vertigo, except it’s in reverse and it feels worse.

Because today is the last day he saw all of them alive. The last day they were all together as a team. The last day before he betrayed them, except he always felt like they betrayed him and not the other way around.

He’s never even visited their graves.

It hits him so hard that he stumbles out of his office and he doesn’t care if there are people around because he just needs to get out, get out, get out.

He’s in the garden before he knows it, and he sinks into the grass and tries to breathe because what the fuck, he feels like he stopped breathing that day and only remembered to breathe now. He feels like crying but he keeps it in and just tries to remember how to properly push air in and out of his lungs even if it stings because in the past, there would always be a warm hand on his back and a soothing voice, and he knows that person will never stand behind him anymore and give comfort because he’s dead.

Minutes pass by and slowly, Fugo can breathe like normal again even if he’s so fucking tired. He collapses on the grass and stares at the night sky, distantly remembering his astronomy lessons when he was still Pannacotta Fugo, child of the wealthy Fugos.

He can hear grass being stepped on and gentle footsteps approaching him and it’s no surprise to see golden curls hanging low and emerald eyes staring back at him.

Fugo hates Giorno so, so much.

"I hate you," Fugo tells his boss. "I wish you were dead. I hope you die the most painful death possible."

Giorno blinks. "Okay. That's fine." He says, slowly. "You're not the only one who wants that."

"When I sleep, I dream that I kill you. I've killed you hundreds of times." Fugo continues, slowly pulling himself up and sitting down beside the most powerful boy in Italy, their knees almost brushing.

Giorno doesn’t shy away, instead, he moves closer to Fugo and their knees are touching. “How do you kill me?” His voice is barely above a whisper and Fugo would laugh if he could but this isn’t the time.

"Different ways. Sometimes I strangle you, sometimes I shoot you, sometimes I hit you with a book, sometimes I stab you."

"No Purple Haze?"

Fugo pauses but shakes his head. "No Purple Haze," he confirms.

Giorno is silent for a minute more and Fugo looks back at the stars, his mind silent for the first time in months.

“I’m sorry. I’m not good at this,” Giorno finally says and he flops down on the grass. “I should’ve let Mista get you.”

Fugo snorts. “Why? Mista doesn’t care,” there’s no malice in his voice, and it’s just a fact.

“No, he does. It’s just… you know, he needs time,” Giorno explains. “Just like you needed time.”

Fugo leans in closer to Giorno and he realizes this is the first time they’ve spoken to each other in months, like, really spoken to each other. It almost feels like a dream when Giorno lifts his hand up and touches Fugo’s cheek like he’s made of glass.

“I hate you,” Fugo says, leaning more into Giorno’s hand. “I wish they were the ones alive and I was the one who died. I wish they were the ones alive and that you never came into our lives.”

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m glad you’re alive,” Giorno says, eyes wide and far too bright. Fugo wants to pull away because his mind is starting to catch up and time away from Passione taught him some things academia and murder couldn’t teach him.

“This doesn’t usually work like this either,” Fugo points out.

Giorno uses his other hand to pull Fugo closer and Fugo can see more things he’s sure no one’s never noticed before like the fact that Giorno has the lightest freckles on his face and that his lashes are really long. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better now,” Giorno tells him. “You should go visit a therapist. We can visit the graves together. I’ll make sure you eat lunch somehow.”

Fugo wants to laugh again but all he feels is a year's worth of grief finally burst and he’s crying again like he did in the restaurant except it feels more real rather than that half-assed performance that felt too perfect and picturesque. Giorno pulls him even closer until there’s no space between them and Fugo buries his face into the crook of Giorno’s neck and feels Giorno hold him tighter.

“I thought that giving you space would be better. I’m really sorry, Panna. I felt like I came off as too much when we first met again. Then I didn’t know how to push anymore and really, that’s no excuse but I’ll do better.” Giorno whispers.

“You’re good, don’t worry,” Fugo takes a shaky breath, half lying, half telling the truth. “Don’t worry.”

Fugo peels him away from Giorno and helps his boss up. Their foreheads are touching and Giorno’s holding onto his hand so gently, it makes Fugo feel sick again. But he squeezes back and knows that they’ll be okay one day.

Not today, but one day.

Notes: wrote this last night listening to fiona apple and just thinking abt phf and how fugo is 16 and giorno is 15 and they're probably not as in touch w their feelings like they might think they are :| or something lol

if u have thoughts or anything feel free to tell me in the comments :>

#peace out i will never write anything for this again #i think #fugio #fanfic #jjba #purple haze feedback #jojo's bizzare adventure #vento aureo #golden wind

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Ace Merrill

(Not my gif)(Requested by a few anonymous askers)

- You’d been out with a few of your friends, visiting a drive in movie theater when you just so happened to catch Ace’s eye. He had to do a double take when he saw you for the first time, since when did Castle Rock have stray models wandering around?

- Well, what’s a guy supposed to do? Not come talk to you? Uh, uh, not an option.

- So, while you were standing at the concession stand, the greaser sidled up to you, leaning against the counter and introducing himself with a charming smile. He made conversation as you waited for your food, sprinkling in little flirty comments and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers.

- Not too long after, the cashier returned with your order; interrupting the two of you. You gathered your purchase, a bit disappointed that you had to say goodbye so soon.

- Just as you were trying to think of something to say, he asked if he could take you out sometime. The two of you made plans to see each other before your friends urgently called you over. You hurriedly said goodbye to the blonde, giving him a quick apology before heading over to your seat.

“See you around, y/n/n.”

- Once you joined back with your group, they began to warn you about how much trouble your “new friend” was. To be honest, it sort of turned you off of him and rightfully so. A womanizing criminal was not exactly the kind of guy you were looking for.

- With your friends words in mind, you made sure to avoid the blonde, not meeting him for your date and not answering his calls. Unfortunately for you, you’d relinquished just enough information about yourself for him to be able to track you down and by that I mean, he visited your work.

- Finally, you were forced to confront him and admit that, yes, you’d been avoiding him. He seemed more than a little pissed but he tried to be on his best behavior, especially when asking if that mean’t you “couldn’t be friends”.

- You felt bad for jerking him around so you hesitantly agreed to, at least, be on good terms with him. Lets just say you didn’t stay just friends for very long.

- After only a week of hanging out with him, you find yourself fooling around in the backseat of his car. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Ace is a professional.

- You tugged your sweater back on, running your fingers through your mussed up hair as the boy lit a cigarette. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you settled back against the seat, blowing out a cloud of smoke before he spoke.

“You’re mine now, alright?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, a small smile finding it’s way onto your lips. “yeah, alright.”

- And so, the two of you began your “secret” relationship.

- Ace really isn’t too bad, just rough around the edges. You learn to live with his faults and just try to stop him from doing anything too against the law or dangerous.

- He has a cold and tough exterior but his insides are... well mostly the same but with beer, some gooey parts and lots of love for you.

- Can I just say that something tells me Ace is a momma’s boy. Like his family is pretty dysfunctional but his ma means a whole lot to him and she’s the sweetest little woman you’ll ever meet. He’s very excited to introduce you.

- He usually calls you doll, darlin’, angel and babe. You cant decide which ones your favorite, he makes them all sound so good.

- He’s always messing with something, whether that be a car part, knife or something of yours.

- Constant pda. He has his hands on you whenever you let him and will try to sneak some contact whenever you wont. The only reason you wouldn’t let him was if you’re around someone you don’t want knowing you’re together.

- The looks that he gives you in public, oh dear.

- He makes it damn clear to everyone that you belong to him so yes, you could say that he’s pretty jealous.

- If anyone even tries to flirt with you they need to watch their backs while walking home. He’s not afraid to pull a knife on a guy in a bar, what do you think he’d do to someone when they’re all alone?

- You probably get an ‘Ace’ tattooed on you at some point. He’d usually just do something like that himself but he wants it to look nice so he’ll take you to an actual shop; unless of course, you want him to do it.

- He most likely tattooed your name on himself, making you do the first letter yourself. He thinks it’s cute when you keep apologizing for “hurting him”.

- Raunchy compliments. If you’re lucky he’ll just say you “look good” or that he “likes it” when you’ve done something new to yourself.

- Husky morning/late night whispers.

- Sometimes he’ll arrive home late at night, stumble around for a while and then just collapse onto you, falling asleep as you watch tv. He’s usually a little tipsy so you just run your fingers through your hair and let him nap.

- Most of the time he’ll wake up all groggy a few minutes later, throw you over his shoulder and carry you off to your actual bed which is just a cozy tad bit too small.

- He drags Eyeball to the store with him whenever he needs to get you a gift.

“How bout roses? Girls like that kinda shit right?”

- Eyeball probably has a crush on you, he can’t help it; there aren’t a lot of girls in town who are as nice as you, not to mention as pretty.

- All the cobras think you’re adorable and the best girlfriend any one of them could ever manage to get. They grew especially fond of you after you brought them beer when they ran out.

- Trying to stop him from messing with kids. He tones it down, mostly whenever you’re around, but never really quits.

- Fake wrestling. It’s fun to roll around on the floor with you a little, especially when he wins which is often.

- So much sarcasm, if you don’t know how to hold your own then you better learn quick.

- Helping him or keeping him company while he cleans his car. He sprays you a few times with the hose because he’s an asshole.

- He’s made you sit on the hood of his car for a picture at least once.

“I’ll give you two bucks if you let me take one of you topless.”

- He likes standing behind you while you cook and resting his head on your shoulder.

- Cutting his hair for him. There’s something oddly satisfying about sitting in a tiny bathroom with him, balancing on the sink ledge and trying your best to not mess up.

- He doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll buy you pads. Who's going to give him shit for it? His friends? He’ll beat their asses into next week.

- Going to drag races.

- Watching him play pool.

- Rough kisses.

- Hickeys, bruises, and bite marks.

- Sitting on his lap.

- Getting pinned to things because he likes seeing you all flustered.

- Let’s be honest, there’s a lot of sex. The mans horny like 80% of the time. Anything you do turns him on. Thankfully, being good at sex is one of his redeeming qualities.

- He’s the kind of guy to slap and grab your ass in public with no shame.

- Whenever you walk in front of him he tends to pull you back against him so that you’re pressed against his chest. It’s both because he can't keep his hands off of you and because it shows that you’re his to everyone around you.

- Whenever you’re in the car together, he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.

- Him doing really dangerous shit and making you worry. He thinks it’s kinda cute when you do, not many people genuinely care about his well being.

- He thinks it’s fun to annoy you so expect him to act like a little shit every now and again, putting things you need on the top shelf and stealing your clothes or towel from the bathroom while you’re showering.

- He’ll usually annoy you until you talk to him whenever you try to give him the silent treatment.

- Your parents found out about the two of you when they caught you making out in his car, a few months into your relationship. It certainly made convincing them that he’s actually an alright guy pretty hard.

- Depending on their personalities, they either made you stop seeing him for a little while as a punishment then tried their best to accept it or they just kicked you out of the house. This was the 60’s after all, most parents were pretty strict and judgmental.

- If they decide to kick you out then you’re moving in with him, plain and simple. You're his girl, he’ll take care of you.

- Fights are rough, like really rough. There’s yelling, insults, things being thrown. It’s just overall not a fun time. Either you or him storm out at some point; if it’s him then you usually aren’t there when he gets back. You go to stay with your friend for a while.

- He calls you constantly and tries to find you whenever you’re out in public. He’s still pissed off but he misses you and feels kind of horrible when he comes home and doesn’t find you there. He’ll usually spot you when you’re walking home and will drive up beside you to try and win you back.

“Get in the car y/n.”

“Get lost Ace!” You shout, spouting off some rant about how you’re through and aren’t coming back.

“That’s bullshit and you know it! We’ll be doing this till the end of time darlin’.”

“This is the last damn time Ace.”

“Come on babe, gimme another chance. Why’d you get that tattoo if you couldn’t handle me.” He joked.

“... If I get in that damn car you promise this won’t happen again?”

“Hell, I can’t promise anything but I’ll sure as hell try.”

- When you guys are in bed he’ll apologize for real, wrapping his arms around you while you lay your head on his chest.

“You do know I’m sorry, right?”

- He’s kind of just your average dirtbag who sometimes takes you for granted, then makes it up to you in some way that makes it really hard for you to leave. You know you should probably ditch him but you just can’t, you love him for better or for worse.

- You probably have a civil ceremony or a really small wedding. He’s not one for stuff that’s big and fancy so something private is ideal for him.

#ace merrill imagine #ace merrill headcanons #ace merrill headcanon #stand by me imagine #stand by me headcanons #stand by me headcanon #80s movie imagine #80s movie imagines #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon

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saidrolav · 3 years

Text

Calcu-lust.

Highschool!Sam Wilson x gn!reader

Summary: You think you're done with relationships since your last ex but you fall harder than ever for a guy in your math class.

Warnings: none! pure fluff! 🧡

a/n: Hiii! Just felt like writing some Highschool AU for no reason, this has been inspired by the song stupid with love from the musical Mean Girls, hope you'll like it!

not my gif!

You were near your locker when Wanda talked to you for the first time of your day. Wanda was the first one that had introduced herself to you, she was the first friend you had made at your school and you were happy she did, she was the most wonderful bestfriend anyone could ask for. She was here for you at any time, the two of you were spending nights listening to music, dancing like crazy and watching movies together, she was the nicest. Not too long ago, she had decided that her mission was to find you a lover. Since you knew her, you have never been in a relationship because of your last ex that hurted you. Wanda loved talking about boys and girls at your school even if you, not so much, you weren't really attracted to anybody. This morning at 8am, at the start of the day, when you were already tired, she obviously had to talk to you about her mission of finding you a partner.

"Wanda!" You had cutted her in the middle of the list of people she found attractive and she looked at you with wide eyes. You checked quickly around you and found some of the students looks on you, you almost just shouted on the corridor and you lowered your voice quickly. "As i said, i'm over it. I used to crush easily in the past, but i'm done with that." She nodded furiously as you talked, drinking every word you were saying. "No more falling for people at the drop of a hat, i'm focusing on school and my future." She rolled her eyes while sighing. You putted your backpack on your shoulder and closed your locker while smiling at her disappointed face.

As you were about yo go for your first class, you heard a couple of whispers in the corridor. Wanda looked around, she seemed to have heard those too because she was investigating the crowd with her eyes to see what was happening, she loved gossiping. Even if you two were searching what was arriving, you both knew what was coming, or rather, who were coming.

It took no time before Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were walking through the corridor, meeting you and Wanda's gazes, sending chills down your spine. The three guys were pretty popular at your school, each one for a different reason. Steve was popular for being pretty good in sports and good looking, tall, blonde, blue eyes, girls and boys were falling for him all around the school. He was a huge victim of gossips, there was always at least once a week a new gossip about him dating someone but the truth is, Steve was super sweet, caring and gentle with everyone but not a lot into dating.

Sam was just as known by everyone, he was also good in sports and extremely funny, the man always had to crack a joke when he could, making people laugh would bright up his day. He was less victim of gossip because he was talking to the whole school and was making sure everyone was feeling at ease around him.

Bucky was the less popular of the three of them, mostly because he was the most introverted of the three. He was really shy but harsh when he talked and he truly wasn't afraid of telling what he tought. The brunette was a truly different person when you were seeing him at lunch with Sam and Steve, letting out laughs from the heart. You only shared one class with James and he was always at the back of the class, drawing sketches furiously in his copybooks in silence.

The three of them passed by you and Wanda. Sam gave you a huge smile and a wave without stopping his tracks. You could only hear his voice echoing in your ears: "Sup, Wanda, Y/N,". Your blood was rushing to your cheeks, these blushing furiously. This man had so much confidence, it was intimidating. Your hands held tighter the strap of your backpack as you watched him walk away, biting your lower lip. You didn't even saw Steve giving you a polite smile and Buck giving a quick glance on your direction, they didn't stopped and followed Sam quickly as your mind was still racing of this insignificant gesture.

"So turned out, you were lying. You still fall for people with a drop of a hat." Your head snapped in Wanda's direction. She was already looking at you with a knowing look, a smirk and wiggling eyebrows. You chuckled before rolling your eyes and going to your first class of the day without waiting for her. "You won't get away with that so easily Y/N ! It's my mission!" You laughed once again and went in your science class.

Your day passed slowly and it made you even more tired as the hours were advancing. You slowly made your way to your last class, exhausted as ever. As you were about to enter the classroom you stood in the doorway, all of your tiredness going away as you saw Sam Wilson sitting at your desk. You stood there for a couple of milliseconds that felt like hours while staring at him, then you realized you might look like a creep so you went to sit just behind him without saying anything. He didn't realized you were staring at him, to your biggest satisfaction.

You knew Sam was in your class, it wasn't the surprise. The surprise was that he sat somewhere else than his usual seat, and at your own usual place. Actually, you never saw him much in your math class, mostly because he was always in the back. You only knew he had good grades because teachers would always congratulate him, but he always seemed like he wasn't listening in class. He was a nice and funny guy who could talk with anyone easily but in class he wasn't that much of a trouble maker. What were you thinking about ? He probably didn't even noticed he sitted at your desk.

You were wrong. Sam knew exactly where you sitted because he already saw you a couple of times in this class or at lunch and he thought you were mesmerizing, because, he was, in fact, mesmerized by you. Your laugh, your smile, the way your were talking. At first, he thought you didn't wanted of a guy like him. Loud, noisy, attracting everyone's attention, but when Steve told him this morning the way you were looking at him, boy, his heart beat faster, a huge smile took over his features and he felt like the happiest man on Earth. You were looking at him, the way he did. As soon as he heard what the blonde said to him, he thought about you all day and for him, the day passed really quickly. He was going to ask you out on a date at the end of this class, and he would do everything he could, starting as you walked by the door.

You putted on your desk your pencil case and everything you needed for your math class, he did the same. You were watching his every moves closely, a bit lost in your toughts. The class started and you tried to focus, you really did, but with such a beautiful man in front of you, you soon met your toughts again. That's why you were so surprised when he made eye contact with you.

"Do you have an eraser ?" He smiled angelically and you knew you were screwed.

"I would love to.." You answered mindlessly as you were putting, in his hand, your own eraser. He chuckled at your answer, that's when you realized how dumb sounded your response. As your hands touched you felt an electric shock running through your veins and your cheeks became crimson at the contact. He used your eraser briefly before putting it back on your table with a quick "thanks".

You didn't even liked your math class that much, but who were you to complain when such an astonishing man was sitting in front of you, math class was becoming slowly your favourite. Thanks maths for giving you the right to put your eyes on Sam Wilson.

You were studying the back of his head curiously, watching his dark hair, his skin, what he was wearing closely, you wouldn't miss a sight of him, you were so close his cologne was tickling your nose and, it smelt amazing.

You were listening as his soothing voice was talking with confidence answering the questions of the teacher, filling the room that was usually in the silence. The man was really smart, and it only made your heart swell even more. He looked like he was straight out of a romance TV show and you just couldn't keep your eyes off of him. Your eyes went lower and you saw his hands playing easily with his pen, his arms showing that work out had been done and before you could continue to observe him, the bell rang and he was leaving in seconds making you sigh as you packed up your things. You've been studying him instead of your maths the whole hour and now you were completely lost in the lesson. You putted your backpack on your shoulders and exited the classroom and your whole body stopped in the middle of the corridor because he didn't left.

He was here. Waiting for someone. When his eyes found yours a giant smile took over his lips and you bit yours. He was walking over someone else behind you right ? Not you right now, he was coming no time to think!

He took a big breath before talking, "Please don't interrupt me because i've been searching what i'm about to say the whole class," you both chuckled before he continued, "So, Hi? Okay so," he cleared his throat, "I think you're very cool and i wanted to know if we could go on a date sometime, maybe grab something to eat or watch a movie togerher, no pressure don't feel obligated to say yes, just... tell me what you think you know." He let out a shaky laugh as he fidgeted akwardly with his fingers before looking back at you. Damn, Sam Wilson was asking you on a date, that was a big deal because he was nervous and never he was, but how could you say no ? You've been admiring him from afar for way too long and he just admitted he was also doing so.

"Yeah, i'd love to go on a date with you sometime Sam." You smiled sweetly at him and you searched fastly in your backpack before taking out your marker. He was super excited and had a giant smile on his face, his heart was beating so fast he thought he might get out of his cage. "I don't have a paper it's okay if i write on the back of your hand ?" You cocked an eyebrow at him and he nodded eagerly. You wrote your number on the back of his hand as you said and as soon as your skin touched again, that electric wave going trough your body came back faster than ever, your smile growing even bigger. You definitly thought it was love at first sight, and that it was what soulmates were experiencing.

You looked at him when you finished writing, he looked more happy than ever and it made your cheeks blush. You putted your marker back in your bag and a couple of seconds passed just where Sam and you were staring at each other with a huge smile. Then he finally talked.

"I should probably go.. I'll tell you when we'll plan our date ?" He looked at you as you nodded in silence, you approached him and gave him a kiss on the cheek before doing a quick wave of the hand "See ya, Wilson." and disappearing in the corridor. Otherwise Sam stood there a couple of minutes caressing with his cheek where you kissed him with the tip of his fingers. He came back to him, realizing what happened and he jumped in the air like a kid, even doing a little dance of joy, running towards Steve and Bucky, ready to tell them everything.

You however you joined Wanda that gave you a knowing look. "I know, i said i'm over it but-" She cutted you with an excited squeak and took you in her arms. "I'm so happy for you! You don't even need me to find a boyfriend!" You laughed and she did so too.

You couldn't wait for your date, and you couldn't wait for your next math class.

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Note

congrats you angel, you deserve all the love and praise for your writing bc holy shit you’re so talented!!! for the soulmate au celebration, i’m thinking either javi or jack (your choice bc i can’t choose) with the soulmate goose of enforcement au 💕 ik it’s a bizarre au but the potential for chaos is insane 😂 anyways ily and i hope you’re having a great day honey

...not me, having JUST reread your javi/jack fic, considering both... definitely me

Anyway, thank you, jj, you absolute gem of a human. I swear I had to turn up the fan reading this I got so flustered. I hope you have a great day too! And I hope you enjoy- I had to do a little research, and made it shorter than I wanted to, so hopefully it fills your chaos cup still! (You'll understand, and hopefully forgive my delay when you see what's under the cut :) )

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: strong language, lil angst with happy endings all around. mild menace meeting menace shenanigans

Okay this is written as pt 1 Jav, pt 1 Jack, pt 2 Jav, pt 2 Jack, bonus pt 3. If you’re only in it for one of the boys, it makes reading a bit weird, but I liked the format for the whole thing. Sorry!

Javier wanted to hit it with a bat. Or a car. Or anything. All that mattered is that maybe then it would leave him the fuck alone. Of all the stupid, infuriating, ridiculous guides the universe could have given him to find his other half, he was sure this was the worst. Rumor was, he couldn't even kill it if he tried.

It's not that he didn't want to find his soulmate, but he... well, he didn't want to find his soulmate.

There were all sorts of excuses to spout - work, obviously a priority, inconvenience, not wanting to give up his way of life. Not to mention following a damn goose was an impossible task, plus the fact that the stupid thing didn't even like him.

It would appear seemingly at random, honking insistently or flapping erratically, and then be gone before anyone else could bat an eye. To say that he had become increasingly irritated would have been a huge understatement.

The truth of it was that Javier was afraid. No one in the world liked to feel like they were being controlled. People liked to know what was going on, and this just didn't fit the bill. He didn't like that he didn't know you, couldn't be chosen, by you.

His life was already complicated enough - messy enough - that a soulmate would only make it worse. He had made it this long, this far without needing one, so he was fine without, thank you very much. Even to himself, his lie sounded okay.

It was hard to face, the idea that there was someone out there, a relationship that he couldn't have control over. And someone who would love him unconditionally? Terrifying.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to do nothing, because it seemed like every direction he turned there was a goose from hell wreaking havoc on his life.

They had reached an impasse - glowering at each other as it had planted itself in front of his door. Little feet pacing angrily, unreasonably long neck, all of it was just begging to be kicked. Except, for all he was a seasoned DEA agent, Javier was almost afraid the thing could go a few rounds with him. Feet shuffling uneasily, his hand twitched for his gun, even though he knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t shoot.

It was stupid to have a staring contest with a goose. And even more stupid that the goose won .

Javier turned away, spitting spanish curses in a stream that would make his mama smack him. Maybe it wasn't too late to find a hookup he could use to crash, he was thinking, and that thought was apparently the final straw. The goose reappeared in front of him.

Hissing.

More curses, a quick turn on his heel. This time, it didn't move in front of him, it left a sharp peck on his calf, before dodging his kick.

It was herding him, against his will, to you.

When he saw the goose, Jack thought he was delirious. The Statesman lab must've screwed something up because he'd seen that horrible, wonderful, stupid goose once before, in another life.

And he never, ever thought he'd see it again.

He did a lot of thinking, that night and the next day and the next. Strangely, he did a lot of feeling, too, noticing how light his shoulders felt, how kind the ache on his heart had become. He visited their grave, pressed his forehead to the headstone, and breathed some deep breaths.

And when he saw the goose again, he lassoed it.

It wouldn't have died even if it was powered up, but he didn't take the chance, determination and longing filling his being like blood, pumping through his heart to each and every part of him.

Miracle of miracles, it let him, with all the glare a bird could give. Knees only making small pops, Jack settled on his heels, looking at it sternly.

"Can you take me to them?"

The expression on it's tiny, smug face didn't change, but it also didn't disappear to free itself, so he waited.

And he waited. And waited. And eventually, watching it with half an eye, he grabbed a doughnut and offered it to the stupid soulmate goose god.

It considered the doughnut, pecked it as Jack yanked his fingers out of reach, and apparently accepted. After it was finished, it began to tug him along, waddling on its makeshift leash as Jack's heart leapt into his throat. He grabbed the bag of doughnuts and his hat before getting dragged along, to you.

At his very core, Javier was a man driven by his personal sense of justice. Being herded by an immortal goose of mischief was unfair, it made no sense that he had to find you, somehow needed more, and wasn't allowed to choose. It pecked and honked and bullied him all the way to a crowded bar, which was a perfect example.

Just as he was thinking, trying to convince himself he would've come here on his own, it disappeared again and he sighed.

He needed a drink. And, he needed to make some of his own goddamn decisions. Defiance and determination, he told himself. Not stubbornness. There was nothing to prove, it was just defiance and determination, to take his fate into his own hands and make his own choices. And if he was going to do that, he wanted to look for someone who wasn't an informant or a one night stand. His gut was looking for someone he could pull to his side and to show the universe that the goose was right to give up on him.

You were a perfect fit. Slightly disgruntled for whatever reason, even through the crowd he could see the faint, telltale wrinkles of someone just as... determined as he was. Shoulders held the same defiance he was so proud of, and he would be lying if he wasn't physically drawn to you as well. The inconsistent lighting could make anyone look good if you wanted it enough, but you... were something else.

There was a line of pink neon reflection from the top of your ear, across your cheekbone, and just grazing the line of your upper lip as you looked thoughtfully at something he couldn't see. Javier thought he wouldn't mind tracing that path with his fingers, and then maybe his own mouth, and his feet were already carrying him to you to look for an open door. The rest of your form came into view, and Javier noticed the bass of the music was turned up a little bit more than necessary- he could feel it thumping in his bones.

Talking to you went smoother than maybe it ever had before. You seemed resigned, at first, which was a reaction that caught him off guard, and that combined with the weariness of his week, making him unusually candid. In turn, you opened up to him like a flower turning towards the sun, fun and thoughtful and refreshing.

He liked the way you laughed when his lines came out a little awkwardly - open and appreciative, and it made his chest puff out a little. He liked the way you spoke, too. There was kindness and romance in your soul, just whispering at the edges of the words, and while he didn’t pick up on that, per se, they made him feel special, handsome, worthy, but also trusted and comfortable and safe. Neither of you noticed at first, that you had shuffled into a quiet corner of the bar, that his body had moved close, a gentle shield boxing the two of you into your own little world.

When the question came - what brought you here, anyway? - he found himself answering honestly about half being led by his guide, then wanting to make his own path. His confidence faltered at your quiet laugh. His heart ached. A glance at the clock told him it had been two hours since he'd found you, and already he wanted to... choose you. To have you choose him.

He felt stupid that he had confessed so soon, but...

Oh, you were kissing him. There were hands shooting off sparks into his soul against his chest and his jaw and you were kissing him. Javier kissed you back.

When you pulled away, his mouth chased yours, not ready to give up the contact so soon, but you stopped him, laughing again.

"I have a confession," you whispered, and he paused.

“My guide led me here, too. I thought when it gave up on me when I saw you,” your next kiss was more chaste, “I think we got tricked.” Noticing he liked the feel of you in his arms, even if he didn’t remember pulling you there, he tightened his hold.

Javier felt light, understanding your laughter, and blissfully unafraid. “No,” he said, knowing already you’d understand him.

“I chose you.”

Jack was running out of doughnuts. It was easier, safer to have the dumb bird half hog-tied, but he still didn’t feel any closer to you, just halfway across town. He dug in his boots and sunk onto a bench, yanking the goose to a stop, too annoyed to beg for a break.

He wasn’t giving up and running away, absolutely not, he was just... running out of options. Or, doughnuts. And breath. If this pace kept up, he wouldn’t be able to tell you all the things he had planned out in his head.

Eyelids closing against the southern sun, he let out a long, slow sigh. His heart was still racing, and he wondered if he was really as ready as he wanted to be, to meet his next soulmate. A sturdier inhale grounded him. He was ready, he knew he was. Whoever you were, you had to have the patience of a saint - it would be alright, he just needed a breath. The ground under his boots was sturdy, the breeze over his skin cooling, and the goose was mercifully quiet.

“That’s one strange lookin dog you have there, cowboy,” The voice was teasing, but not malicious, and he grinned, eyes still closed.

“She’s a purebred,” he replied, and he heard a huff of laughter like the first few notes of music. Waiting for your footsteps to carry you away, he savored the moment, feeling silly as he hoped his soulmate would like to laugh as much as he did.

There was a weight on the other side of the bench, and he wondered at it, as you said, “Want to talk about it?” His smile was softer, this time, intrigued by the moment, but not wanting to be tempted into flirting, not when his soulmate was on the horizon.

“Nothin to tell,” he replied, feeling suddenly strange. Jack opened his eyes, looking at the rope in his hands, feeling the fibers run through his fingers. “Just a free range chicken... taking a break from tryin to chase down my second soulmate.” He winced, definitely not wanting to look at you, after the second had slipped out.

It wasn’t judging, though, the voice that said, “You seem like you want to talk about it.”

For once in his life, Jack didn’t know what to say, slipping off his hat to run his fingers through his hair before replacing it. He heard your half-laugh again, and it felt refreshing, like sweet tea on a southern summer day.

“Okay,” you said, and he heard amusement this time, like you had something to say, some thought you were chewing on.

Then, there was that terrible honk of the goose, not from his feet, but from where, assumedly, you were. Snapping his gaze to the other side of his bench, he saw a sight for sore eyes, half backlit, glowing like something he never thought he’d see.

There was an indignant goose in a cage at your ankles, now making grumbling bird noises in indignant conversation with the one at the end of his lasso.

“I thought you were never gonna look at me,” Your arm was across the back of the bench as you grinned at dynamite smile at him.

Jack returned it, feeling bashful and eager, dropping the rope to grab your closest hand.

“I promise I aint making that mistake again, sugar.”

bonus ending:

Jack was clinging to your hand, grinning like a fool as you introduced yourselves, when another movement caught his eye. There was a man, walking up behind you, a resigned look on his face. Whiskey’s hackles should have been all the way up, yanking you into his arms at the way this man was approaching you, but instead he was dumbfounded for the second time that day.

He was backlit, too, with shoulders that carried as much weight as the man in his mirror every morning, and he could see the shape of a gun as he knelt next to his soulmate. The stranger’s eyes when they looked at you... were as adoring as he was sure his must have been, a moment before, and he was familiar with you, like you’d known each other before now. Jack wanted to swallow, but his heart felt like it was in his throat, beating like he’d gone a round with a bull at the rodeo.

“This is probably a lot,” Javier said, taking you other hand and quirking an eyebrow. The geese made some loud, obnoxious noises and he looked at them appreciatively. “I wish I had thought of that,” he gestured at the lasso, and you smiled at him.

“This is Javier,” you said, and you let go of them both to stand up and brush yourself off. Warm hands and strong grips were exchanged, and you watched them curiously as they shook, murmuring names and titles again. They were sizing each other up, certainly, but you felt a rush of relief as you saw a familiar spark of attraction in Javi’s eyes.

“You got any more surprises for us, then?” you looked up at the cowboy, confused, only to realize he wasn’t talking to you. The goose in your cage was free halfway down the walk, the one in the lasso hissed. The poor man had been an RV in an earthquake and come out the other side overwhelmed and happy, of all things, but there wasn’t much more he could handle. To your surprise, he grabbed a crumbled paper bag and tossed the contents to the bird, before it gave a final honk, and waddled after it’s friend.

“I guess that’s a no,” you said, suddenly shy at the fullness in your heart.

“That’s alright,” Jack picked up his lasso, before looking at you and Javier, his eyes happy, and glinting with something stronger. “I think this is more than enough.”

And you agreed.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179

for whiskey:

@0celestialbitch0

#why am I like this #did this get away from me?#yes #absolutely #soulmate requests #soulmate goose of enforcement #Javier Peña x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack x you x javier #i guess thats a thing now #on this blog #don't ask me to write a part two or i swear #i'll probably do it #maybe i don't know people #also im a touch delirious sorry if this is as much of a fever dream for you as it is for me

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walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“Beth” Daryl Dixon x Beth Greene w/ Unrequited!F!Reader

Request: anonymous: can i please please request a heather by conan gray song fic where reader is jealous of what daryl and beth had ( basically daryl x reader but onesided 💔👄💔 ) omg pure damn angst that'd be immaculate 😭😭 thank u very much 💔💔

Word Count: 3540

Warning: Unrequited Love

Song I Wrote To: “Heather” by Conan Gray

Note: I hate to say that I know exactly how our reader felt and man does it fucking suck to feel that way. thank you for the request. NOTE: I see Beth and daryl as platonic soulmates, not romantic.

----------

I still remember third of December

Me in your sweater, you said it looked better

On me, than it did you, only if you knew

How much I liked you, but I watch your eyes

It hadn’t rained in days and you were almost out of water.

Since saving Beth from the Grady ordeal and discovering Noah’s home was gone, it was a mix of emotions within the group. After Terminus, there hadn’t been much hope on the horizon. Rescuing Beth had brought some light into your family’s eyes, but there was still the question of what happened next.

The prison was gone and you had lost people, but you had found each other again and that was better than nothing. Walking alongside Glenn and Maggie, your eyes were on the duo in front of you.

Daryl and Beth.

You didn’t know what had exactly happened between the two of them after the prison fell, but whatever it was had changed them. Two very unlikely people were now attached at the hip every moment of every day. Daryl never had Beth out of his sight if he could help it. The only time he did was when Beth was with her sister.

Daryl Dixon was the one that always made sense to you. You had met him the day he had walked into the camp with Merle. He tended to keep his distance from everyone else, but eventually, you had gotten him to talk to you and it didn’t take long for your feelings to form.

There had been small moments between the two of you that you thought had meant something. The slightest of glances, his hand on your arm when he needed your attention, or even when he had found you alone in the CDC and checked in.

It wasn’t until you were safe on the farm and Andrea had nearly killed him that you realized the feelings you had were more than a simple crush, you were falling for him and you were falling hard.

As she walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue sky

At the prison, you became his partner for all the supply runs. You were quick on your feet and didn’t care too much for small talk so he preferred to hunt with you. You hadn’t noticed that he and Beth were getting closer at all. The prison had offered Beth a boyfriend, though he didn’t last long and died on a supply run with Daryl.

When the prison had fallen, you had been with Maggie, Sasha, and Bob. The four of your had traveled down rickety roads searching for Glenn and the others. When you had encountered Terminus, you weren’t sure if you were going to get out of there alive. There had been too many variables and you were still missing people.

She's got you mesmerized

While I die

That is until Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and Carl had entered the train car and you had immediately grabbed Daryl into a hug. His arms had been hesitant at first but then hugged you back, burying his head in your hair. When he had pulled back and spotted Maggie, his face had fallen and he had told her what happened.

Beth had been taken.

The reunion was short-lived as Gareth and his people dragged Rick, Daryl, Bob, and Glenn from the train car. Both you and Maggie had yelled as the men you loved were torn from your grips. Sasha had to hold you back, keeping her arms locked around your torso as you fought against her.

Everything after that was a blur and then the next thing you knew, there was an explosion and you and the rest of your family began to fight back. It wasn’t until Abraham had taken your hand and dragged you into the woods that you were finally reunited with Daryl and the others.

Still reeling from almost being dinner for cannibals, everyone tried to remain calm, but there was still one more thing you and the others had to do: Get Beth back.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester

But you like her better

Wish I were Heather

Daryl wouldn’t stop talking about her. He couldn’t believe he had lost her at the funeral home. He thought he was protecting her when he told her to run, but then she had been taken anyways. Daryl told Maggie that he had screamed for her sister, running after the car that snatched her, but they never slowed and they never stopped.

“Beth is strong and she’ll survive anything these assholes throw at her,” you had told him, trying to offer comfort after you had found the church. Daryl had been sitting alone on watch when you had found him. You could tell he was becoming restless and that it was only a matter of time before he went after her. What he said next had confirmed your theory.

“She is strong,” Daryl had agreed, “but she can’t do this alone. Someone’s gotta go get her.” After that, you knew there was no stopping him.

It wasn’t long after that when Daryl had left to go after the people who had taken the young Greene. You had informed the others of what had happened and Rick had ordered everyone to stay put. Daryl, and Carol, who had joined him, were more than capable of getting Beth and Rick knew that if they needed you, you would be there to help.

The entire exchange at Grady felt as if it didn’t even happen. One moment Daryl had come back saying that Carol had been taken as well, and then suddenly you were all on your way into the city to go after your people. Rick had you and Sasha act as snipers on the overpasses to get good vantage points for the initial meeting.

From watching him through your scope, you could see how restless Daryl was getting. If Rick hadn’t of been by his side, you were almost sure that he would have gone into the hospital alone to get her back and probably would have killed them both in the process.

You soon realized that Dawn Lerner was no different from the other threats you and the others had faced. She was proud and naïve at the same time. The woman believed that she was helping people, saving them for when help arrived. However, everyone knew the truth, nobody was coming. Nobody was ever coming.

Watch as she stands with her holding your hand

Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder

You had joined Rick and Daryl in the exchange, keeping your weapon ready in your hands. Carol was brought forward first and then Beth. As soon as she rejoined the group, Rick had pulled her behind him and Daryl stood in front of both of them, creating a shield. Beth stayed close and placed her hand on his back lightly, making sure he knew she was there.

When Dawn had asked for Noah, Beth had walked forward with determination, trying to make the woman see reason, but the former officer wasn’t backing down. Nobody saw the pair of scissors in Beth’s hand until it was too late.

The younger Greene plunged her weapon into Dawn’s chest just as the latter pulled her gun. You flinched, waiting for the gunshot, but the pistol had jammed. Beth stared at the barrel pointed at her head in shock. Just before Dawn could try to explain, Noah pulled Beth back and Daryl pulled his own gun, shooting Dawn in the head without a second thought.

Everyone, including yourself, had then raised their weapons, but the other members of Grady had surrendered, not wanting any more people to die. Rick had then ordered everyone out and back down to the others. You helped Carol stand and she leaned on you as you walked from the hospital.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel

But then again, kinda wish she were dead

Ahead of you, Daryl had Beth pressed into his side, his arm firmly around her. Beth’s arms clutched at the vest on his back as if she were afraid he would slip away from her again. You were glad that she was okay, but you couldn’t ignore the pang in your heart as you watched the man you loved hold another. The heartbreak only continued after that as your group headed back out onto the road.

------

Coming back to the present, you hadn’t realized that a Walker had begun stumbling after you or that Maggie and Glenn had stepped away to talk amongst themselves. The rest of the group was a few paces ahead of you, unaware of the lurking Dead behind them. Turning slowly, you pulled your knife, trying to stay on your feet. You were exhausted and at this point all you wanted to do was lay down and sleep, but that was no longer a luxury in the new world.

The Walker gnashed its teeth at you as you waited for it to catch up. When it was on you, you lazily shoved its arms off of you. The smell of rot made your eyes water as it tried to bite you. Its crumbling fingers tangled in your jacket as you raised your arm and plunged the blade into its eye socket. The creatures dropped to the ground with a heavy thud that finally got the attention of your group.

“(Y/N)?” Carl called. You waved off the concern in his voice and sheathed your blade, turning away from the corpse. You caught up with the others, trying to keep both of your eyes open. As you walked alongside Tara, you felt a hand on your arm. Looking to your left, you saw Beth looking at you with a furrowed brow.

As she walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than a blue sky

She's got you mesmerized

While I die

“You okay?” she asked. Daryl was right next to her, his hand in hers as always.

“Yeah, Beth,” you assured her. “I’m just tired.” She nodded in understanding. Everyone was tired, everyone was hungry, and nobody knew what was going to happen next. Beth looked like she wanted to say something else, but you just gave her a small smile and went to catch up with Rick who was walking with his children, Judith tucked under his chin, and Carl dragging his feet next to his dad. “Need a break?” you asked, gesturing to the little one.

“I got her,” Rick said, “but thanks.” You nodded and continued to walk alongside your leader in silence. Rick was watching you out of the corner of his eye, easily reading your body language. Whether you were aware or not, he could see what Daryl couldn’t and that was the fact that every second you watched him with Beth felt like a dagger to your heart.

“We should find a spot to stop for the night,” you suggested, your eyes scanning the road ahead.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Rick said with a sigh and then glanced over his shoulder. “Daryl,” he called and the archer let go of Beth for a moment to jog up to Rick’s side. “Why don’t you and (Y/N) go scout ahead in the woods, see if you can find a place to set up camp for the night.” Daryl was hesitant at first, but then nodded.

“Alright,” he said and then looked back at Beth, “I’ll be right back,” he called and she nodded with a small smile. He then turned back to you, gripping his bow tighter, “come on.”

------

You followed after Daryl in silence. Since knowing the hunter, you learned how to move with him through the woods. On the farm, Daryl had taken you under his wing and taught you how to walk without making a sound and how to spot things that were out of the ordinary. You were the only person he trusted to go sneaking through the woods with and that meant a lot to you.

The two of you walked for a little while longer before he slowed down and began walking beside you, instead of in front. “You’ve been quiet girl,” he observed. You just shrugged, not really wanting to get into it right now. “(Y/N),” Daryl said, knocking your shoulder with his.

“I’m just sick of wandering,” you explained. “At least the last few times we have been on the road, we had a vague idea of where we were going or at least trying to go.”

“I know ya didn’t like being back in the city,” he said quietly. You shrugged again.

“Not like I was going to stay behind,” you told him. “Beth and Carol needed us.” Daryl nodded.

“Thanks for helpin’ to get them back,” he said, looking over at you, and you nearly melted under his gaze.

“What else is family for, right?” Daryl gave you a small smile and then nodded.

You continued on through the woods until you found a small enough clearing that would work well for the night. You volunteered to stay behind and start getting the camp ready while Daryl ran back to bring the others. You needed to be alone with your thoughts.

As soon as Daryl disappeared back through the trees, you began gathering firewood. The whole time, you watched for Walkers, but the Dead stayed away for the moment. You tried to focus on your task, but every time you had a second, you thought of him. Your hands went into your hair and tugged as if you could pull the thoughts out by force.

You didn’t want to feel like this.

You had experienced unrequited love before, but never to this extent. Daryl Dixon had consumed you and no amount of “moving on” was going to fix it.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty…

The others arrived quickly and you all worked together to get the camp set up for the night. Rick, Abraham, and Michonne set up Walker traps while Carol and Glenn fixed something for dinner from what Daryl was able to catch in the nearby trees.

Once everyone had eaten, you had stepped away and placed yourself on a boulder, watching over the group, a rifle in your lap. Your eyes couldn’t stop wandering to Beth and Daryl as they sank into their own bubble.

She was never far from his side by the fire. Since Grady, she had slept by his side, walked in his shadow, and they even took watch together when they had the chance. You also knew that while Beth and Daryl may have been oblivious of their newfound relationship, everyone else in the group had noticed.

Daryl joked around with Beth, carried her on his back when she was tired, and he had even begun training her with his bow, something you had always wanted to do. Jealously rushed through you at the sight of his hands on her shoulders and under her arm, helping her balance the weapon.

Any time she would make a perfect shot at a nearby tree, he would smile at her with pride in his eyes. Those eyes never left her if they could help it and you didn’t blame him because you were the same way when it came to him. He cared about her and while it may have been a different way than how you felt about him, it didn’t feel much better.

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester

Watching as Daryl wrapped his leather jacket around Beth’s shoulder, you gripped the barrel of your gun tighter. A movement to your left had you turning to see Maggie approaching you. She hopped up on the boulder and gave you a small smile.

“Are you okay?” she asked and you knew what she was referring too. Maggie Greene or rather, Rhee, was as observant as they came.

“I’m good,” you told her, turning your attention to the wall of trees that was before you.

“I know how you feel about him,” Maggie whispered and you closed your eyes at her words. She reached over and took your hand. “I saw it the first night on the farm, the way you look at him. I even thought that the two of you were together before Andrea mentioned that you weren’t.” You sighed.

“Maggie…” you began as you looked at her, your eyes begging for her to drop the subject.

“I could talk to Beth,” she offered, but you were already shaking your head.

“No, no, please,” you said, glancing over at the two survivors cuddled up by the fire. “He and her...that’s fate. You know Daryl, he’s not the romantic type, but Beth is the closest thing to a soulmate he’s got. Platonic and all. Besides, look at her. She’s an Angel.”

But you like her better

I wish I were Heather

------

Later that night, Glenn had joined you on watch.

You knew that you should get some sleep, but too many thoughts ran through your mind and you couldn’t quiet them down enough to sleep. Glenn didn’t say anything, but he knew. You knew that Maggie had told him, but you also knew that he wouldn’t offer his opinion, at least not when anyone could hear him. Still, he slung an arm around your shoulder and you leaned into him, feeling the warm embrace of your friend.

Eventually, you had to get up. After Glenn had gone to sleep next to his wife, Rosita tagged you out for watch and you slid off the boulder, stretching your arms above your head. As you walked back to the rest of the group, you ran into Daryl.

“Ya alright?” he asked, concern furrowing his brow.

“How many more times are you gonna ask me that?” you asked, crossing your arms. “I’m the same since the last time you asked.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Something has been off with you since Grady, maybe even before that.” All you wanted to do was scream at him. You wanted to grab him by that damn vest of his, tell him you loved him, and kiss him until the sun came up and that fantasy alone was enough to make you turn away from him.

“I’m tired of losing people, Daryl,” you admitted and you didn’t think he caught your double meaning, but it was the truth. You had lost him even though he was never yours, to begin with.

“I get that,” he said, “but you never know who you’ll find, ya know?” he said glancing over at Beth who lay curled up near her sister and brother-in-law. You followed his gaze and then your eyes landed on Rick who was looking at you with sadness in his eyes. You looked away quickly, trying not to let the tears back in. “What is it?” Daryl asked, noting your shift in demeanor.

“Nothin’, I’m gonna do a perimeter check,” you informed him.

“Alone?”

“Yeah, alone,” you said before turning and walking away, fighting the tears with every step.

Wish I were Heather

(Oh, oh)

Wish I were Heather

--------

It didn’t take long for you to crumble.

Falling to your knees, you rested on the forest floor, your back against a tree as you cried. You knew you needed to be quiet, but you couldn’t stop the tears that choked you. He would never look at you the way he looked at her and you had to accept that, but it didn’t mean that it still didn’t hurt like hell. You pressed your face into your arms as you cried, trying to muffle the sound.

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave her your sweater

It's just polyester

When your sobs had calmed, you stared out into the darkness with bleary and red eyes. A flashlight beam caught your eye as Rick approached you, his boots crunching the dead leaves that scattered the ground. He didn’t say anything as he joined you on the ground.

“I didn’t mean to walk off,” you explained, but he waved you off. It was another moment of silence before he finally spoke.

“I know that look,” Rick said. “The others, they may not see it, but I do. I know what it looks like to want someone you can’t have,” he said. You kept your gaze forward as he spoke. “Shane had the same look when it came to Lori. Hell, he loved her and I knew it and so did she. So, I know (Y/N).”

Nodding, you wiped at the tears on your chin and took a deep breath. “I want to hate her,” you whispered.

“But you can’t,” he said and you shook your head.

“I could never,” you admitted. “Not her. She’s not even doing anything.” The tears came again and this time Rick pulled you against him and you sobbed into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing his hand down your back. “It’s okay.”

A part of you believed him. It was going to be okay. The end of the world had happened, but it didn’t mean that you had lost everything. Daryl had found his person and while you would always love him, there was a point in time when you just had to let go.

And so, you did.

But you like her better

Wish I were...

TAGS: @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner@felicisimor @amaroho

#daryl dixon x beth greene #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #beth lives #reader insert #unrequited romance #twd imagine #Heather #song fic #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #walkerwords

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