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#if now knowing this and being hurt by this should impact your view of the present person. or if - consider you hadn't known this person
goddess-of-green · 2 years
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𝐀 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐭. 𝟐 | 𝘕. 𝘒𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘦𝘥𝘢
𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙵𝚝. 𝙽𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚘 𝙺𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚊
Synopsis: You've given Komaeda a love letter. He thinks he's being pranked. He finds out he's not, and then he cries.
Part two of "A Letter For Your Heart"
(I'm glad a few people asked for a continuation of this because I had to really rush the ending in order to get it up by Valentine's Day and ended up not getting to write out the ending I originally planned for.)
Warnings: Fem!Reader, slight angst (but it's really just reverse comfort, with a happy ending of course)
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You officially had no idea if Komaeda's response to the letter was good or not.
He had just read it with a straight face, smiled, and went on with his day.
He didn't seem to have any kind of visceral reaction...which was good...but what the hell!?
You had planned things out this way so that you would have an idea of whether or not he was going to reject you!
You should have accounted for the fact that Komaeda was a total enigma.
Well, You grasped the straps of your bag, if there's even the tiniest chance he'll say yes, I have to show up.
And with that thought, you made your way to the cherry tree you had mentioned in the letter.
Classes had just been released, so if he intended to meet his admirer, he'd probably be heading there now. He might even already be there.
You had done a little circle around the school just in case he went straight there from class, and noticed you were walking the exact same way.
Of course, all this had been done under the assumption that he would show up at all.
Ah, don't think like that! You told yourself. Komaeda isn't that kind of guy. He'll probably show up even if he plans to reject me.
But what if you were taking too long and he decided to just leave?
O-Or, what if something came up? Like his luck! What if he-
Your thoughts were abruptly cut off as the cherry tree came into view.
...And Komaeda was standing right under it.
M...Maybe this isn't such a good idea. We've only known each other for a couple months anyway! Maybe it would be better if I just didn't show myself at all...
Komaeda looked around, frowning as people passed by to go home while he was still alone, waiting for someone he was starting to think wasn't going to show up.
Your heart suddenly hurt as you were reminded of the way your classmates treated him. Like he was some sort of alien, or freak.
O-Okay... You can do this... Do it for him...
Maybe you were being too presumptuous. Maybe your confession only upset Komaeda. But even if just for a moment, you convinced yourself that you were important to him; and you walked up to the cherry tree with a face as pink as the flowers.
Komaeda noticed you as you started to get close to him, and he smiled at you easily.
"Ah, hello there, Y/N! Have a safe trip home!" He said jovially.
Somehow, the fact that he didn't think you were the one supposed to meet him there made you ten-thousand times more nervous.
"A-Ah, thank you Komaeda, but...are you waiting for someone?" You asked as you stopped in front of him, trying to dance around the subject a little instead of just saying, 'Actually I'm here to confess my undying love for you.'
"Hm?" He tilted his head, "Oh, yes! I am, actually." He smiled.
That smile was so beautiful, your nerves were eating you up inside and you had to look away at the confirmation that, yes, he was waiting for you.
"That's what I thought...um..." You started, trying to work up the courage to say...well, you know.
"I-I..." You bit your lip. C'mon! Just say it!
"What is it, Y/N? Is there something you were meaning to tell me?" Komaeda asked, his tone curious. Oblivious boy. Weren't you supposed to be smart!?
Do I really have to spell it out for you...!?
"I'm the one that wrote the letter!" You said quickly, your face completely red and eyes scrunched shut as if bracing for impact.
The impact of rejection.
A moment passed, and then another.
All was silent.
It was as if the world had stopped; like you and Komaeda were the only two people in the world and the next thing that he said had the very real potential of tearing that little world apart.
Just the two of you...
But would Komaeda be satisfied with that?
Opening your eyes when he failed to say anything, you slowly looked over his expression, searching for...well, anything.
His eyes were wide and his lips were parted, but as he caught your gaze, he looked down and smiled.
"Ah, so it was you, then. I see..."
His smile was sad, and you felt your heart start to break, knowing what was to come.
"That is truly unfortunate. I was even beginning to think that we were friends. I suppose it only makes sense that you'd want to put lowly trash like myself in my place." He said, still not meeting your gaze as he smiled at the ground.
...Huh?
"W-Wait... Komaeda, what are you talking about?" You asked, suddenly confused.
Did he receive another letter or something...?
Komaeda tilted his head, as if you were the one being confusing.
"Hm? This is a prank, is it not? You wanted to laugh in my face for getting my hopes up on a day like this." He explained, as if your "intentions" were clear as day.
You were so stunned that you couldn't speak.
Did Komaeda really think that lowly of himself?
He took your silence as confirmation.
"Don't worry, I understand; I apologize sincerely. Someone as disgusting as myself having the gall to talk to you every day, walk with you, and even eat lunch with you! My arrogance is truly appalling. I understand if you never want to see my ugly face ever again." He smiled easily.
"K-Komaeda..." You murmured, trying to find your voice.
"N-No... No no no!" You exclaimed, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as you jerked forward to take his hands in yours.
"T-That's- That's not-!" You found yourself freezing up again as you looked into his eyes, those beautiful green-gray eyes, watching you attentively.
"I-I mean-!" You exclaimed, shaking your head. "I meant it, Komaeda. I meant everything I wrote." You said earnestly, your voice getting softer towards the end as you started to get shy.
"I w-wasn't lying, or trying to prank you, or put you in your place or whatever- I wanted to confess to you..." You said softly, looking into his eyes that were even wider than before.
He searched your face (just like always when you said something kind to him) for lies, though more desperately than usual.
"Y-You, I... What?" He said finally, blinking at you as his hands remained firm in your grip.
"I was being serious, Komaeda. I... I love you..." You whispered, almost unable to say it aloud.
Your face was completely on fire, but you felt a little bit better about it, considering Komaeda was also very pink.
"You..." Komaeda muttered, seemingly unable to process this information.
After a moment, Komaeda laughed. A very fake, very nervous laugh as he pulled his hands from yours.
"Ah, you are very good at this...but I assure you I've learned my lesson. Please, you don't need to play jokes on me anymore..." He smiled, his voice nearly cracking towards the end of his sentence.
You frowned at this, a determination taking hold that was completely non existent within you just moments before.
In a bold move, you stepped closer to him and cupped his cheeks.
"No, you're wrong. It's not a joke. From the bottom of my heart…I am truly in love with you, Komaeda Nagito." You whispered.
You registered in the back of your mind that you had written the same cheesy thing on the letter you gave him, but the look on Komaeda's face made the embarrassment worth it.
His face was completely red now, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were an illusion. A dream, one that would fade away the moment he reached out to grasp it.
"Please... Why won't you let me love you...?" You asked, frowning and brows creasing as your thumbs brushed his cheeks.
He leaned into your hands, his lip quivering as he looked into your eyes.
"Y-You...you're serious?"
You nodded, smiling.
With that, he finally broke down.
Tears spilled over and his knees buckled.
As his arms wrapped around you, you could only go to the ground with him.
And just like that, the world was only you and Komaeda again.
Taking his frame in your arms, you brushed your fingers through his hair as he cried into your neck.
"I... I love you too..."
You felt more than heard him say it, his voice being muffled with his face pressed into your shirt, but it made your heart flutter all the same.
He was covering your shirt with tears, but you didn't care. You didn't care about anything except the boy in your arms.
You leaned down to press a kiss to his head as he hiccuped, arms tight around your waist and fingers clutching at your clothes.
Komaeda was broken. He had convinced himself throughout his life that he was completely worthless, and garbage of a human being.
This wasn't going to be enough to convince him otherwise. This was far from the final affirmation.
But still...
"C-Can you say it again?"
Your smile was gentle. "I love you, Komaeda. I love you, I love you, I love you."
Hope had to start somewhere, didn't it?
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outivv · 2 years
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hi, can you do kaeya, zhongli, venti and ei separately with gn reader who does maladaptive daydreaming to cope with harsh reality? they're always in their imagination world, dreaming of being the ideal person they tried to be and dreaming of the happy life they wanted to have. the constant daydreaming of the wanted perfect life makes them feel like at the highest cloud nine. its to the point that now they barely care about reality's responsibilities as only daydreams can make them happy and alive.
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Synopsis: s/o with maladaptive daydreaming disorder
Warnings: kind of mentions of life struggles, and not proofread
Game/ fandom: genshin impact
Characters: kaeya, zhongli, venti, and Ei
Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned
A/n: hello! Thank you so much for requesting! I feel I took a much… more manipulative, and metaphorical sounding tone for this one, and a bit… I don’t wanna say darker, but angstier(?) than you may have wanted…? I do apologize if that’s the case, but I still hope you enjoy, and have a great rest of your day/ evening!
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— kaeya —
Kaeya… understands struggling of the real world, and wishing you could escape it all. But… as a cavalry captain he can’t do that. He has to stay loyal to his work, as he does enjoy it. So, he partially understands how you feel.
He’ll recommend turning to works of literature, or writing your own stories rather than completely diving into your own mind, as he feels too much of that could be harmful, especially if you neglect your duties, or seem less lively when you’re not daydreaming.
He understands if you don’t like his suggestion, but he does worry for you a bit. He wants you to feel safe and comfortable, and he wants you to be as passionate about something in the real world, as you are about daydreaming.
He won’t push you, he never would wish to do that, but he will… encourage you. A bit of daydreaming is healthy in his opinion, so he won’t say that it’s completely off the table. He wants what’s best for you, and may sound like a concerned mother for a while, but he truly does care.
— zhongli —
Zhongli… is a realist at heart. He understands wanting to run away from your duties, I mean c’mon this is the guy who faked his own death so he could retire from the role of an archon. So, he understands that, but what he doesn’t understand, is trying to fiction of your own creation to help with all the stress, and dullness in the world.
He knows of the human feeling of wanting to better, wanting to look better, have better, be better. But, he urges you to… be careful. To stay close to reality, and don’t let things weigh you down so far as you neglect things in your life.
Listening to his pleas got it through to you that maybe… you should not fly to close to the sun with wax wings, and rather that you should stay a bit grounded, and realistic.
You understand right? He just wants the best for you. He wants you to he successful in life, and how can you do that when you’re too busy soaring on cloud 9. A bit of imagination and creativity is fine, but… he can’t help but he concerned.
He views you as a child with an overactive imagination. It… kind of hurts you honestly. You understand that maybe what you were doing wants the best, but it’s not like you were hurting anyone…
— venti —
Venti loves the freedom your own mind can give you. The feeling of soaring through the clouds, when you could simply be lying beneath a tree, feeling the wind brush through your hair is the closest you’ll ever get to the clouds.
Venti turns all of your daydreams into songs. You’re his muse, the one that dukes the fire for his musical prowess.
But, while you may be his muse, he can’t help but feel… worried. Worried that you’re biting off more you can chew, as you seem… so sad, when you return to the real world. He understands the feeling of wanting more, wanting freedom, but… not like this.
He won’t stop you, rather than make the real world brighter for you! Anything that was wrong previously is swept away by the anemo archon himself. Doenst matter what it was, he’ll take care of it. No matter what.
— Ei —
Ei knows this feeling all too well… the feeling of wanting to throw away the cards that life dealt you, for better ones that you could create yourself. But no one can change fate. No one can alter celestia’s will. You will have to deal with those cards, no matter how bad they may be, but you’ll get new ones, and the bad ones will hopefully pass.
She sealed herself off from the world, from her people, and literally trapped herself in her mind. She would never wish that upon anyone now.
She will urge you to find other ways to cope with whatever it is you’re going through, and telling you that she would do anything to help you, much like venti she would help you no matter the cost.
She doesn’t understand mortal feelings well, but what she does understand is that slowly, with her help you’re seeing the world as a little less dull, and working through whatever it is that you’re struggling with, that made you turn to your own imagination. And he’s beyond proud of you.
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bojack horseman and bo burnham: the art of acting like you’re acting and the comedy of misery
at the core of bojack horseman, raphael bob-waksberg’s 2014 comedy, is a story about the relationship between performance and depression. the protagonist of this renowned tragicomedy is best described as a sympathetic villain; he is shown to clearly be in the wrong across various events of the show, and is explicitly referred to as a bad person, but the audience is granted deep access to his personal struggles, resulting in some portions of the audience finding themselves on bojack’s side. the duality of his character is complex, but can be broken down into some core components, that all stem from the impacts of stardom and performance. the standup comedy of bo burnham arguably echoes this sentiment in real time. having been a performer from a young age, burnham creates work that serves as a satirical commentary on the life of entertainers. he uses original songs to explore the reliance upon and resentment for his performative nature both onstage and within his personal life. both the comedian and the netflix show are widely understood to be thinly veiling their critiques of the entertainment industry behind a particular brand of witty and absurd humour.
both bojack and burnham’s content openly criticises their audiences and explicitly states the manufactured nature of the narrative the audience is fed. in the fifth season of bojack horseman, the show satirises itself by having bojack star in a police procedural drama, parts of which are actively written by other characters to reflect events of bojack’s life. the titular character he plays, philbert, is the epitome of selfish male angst, and an example of what bob-waksberg’s show could have been; another story about a sad and angry man whose guilt supposedly makes up for the people he has hurt. according to bojack, philbert teaches us ‘we’re all terrible, so we’re all okay’, an interpretation that is harshly disputed by diane: ‘that’s not the point of philbert, for guys to watch it and feel okay. i dont want you, or anyone else, justifying their shitty behaviour because of the show.’ this moment is a direct reaction to some of the online reception bojack horseman has received. various circles of the show’s fanbase have found themselves relating to the protagonist to the point of defending his untoward behaviour, a response not intentioned by the show’s creators. this is not the only example of bob-waksberg’s ability to make his work self-evaluative. in season six’s exposure of bojack and sarah lynn’s problematic relationship, characters question their sexual encounter from the first season. the writers use this as a way of examining their own choices, and the harmful tropes they played into when using this exploitative sexual encounter as a gag. this self-evaluative quality is what sets bojack apart as a show that assesses the performance it participates in, much like the comedy of bo burnham.
bo burnham is known for directly addressing his audience, particularly in terms of discouraging idolisation and parasocial relationships. some examples of this manifest as responses to hecklers rather than a planned bit in the show, for instance:
heckler: i love you!
bo: no you don’t
heckler: i love the IDEA of you!
bo: stop participating!
he actively addresses the issues posed by being an entertainer, and encourages the audience to understand and recognise that his onstage persona is just that: an exaggerated persona. not once does burnham claim to be fully authentic onstage, and even moments of authenticity we see in his latest special, inside, are staged. we make the assumption that having the physical setting of a stage stripped away grants us a more personal look at the entertainer’s life, but he makes it clear that even in his own home we still see the aspects he has carefully constructed rather than the full truth. arguably though, parts of the show really are authentic; in his monologue during make happy, bo deconstructs his own show in a way that is similar to bojack horseman’s later seasons, admitting that all he knows is performing and thus making a show about the more mundane and relatable aspects of life would feel ‘incredibly disingenuous.’ in his attempts to separate himself from this onstage persona he actually manages to blur the lines between what is acting and what is now part of his nature as a result of his job. this notion is echoed in bojack horseman as bojack’s attention seeking nature is attributed to his years acting in front of a camera every day.
bo suggests that the era of social media has created a space in which children’s identities mimic that of an entertainer like himself, describing the phenomenon as ‘performer and audience melded together.’ in this observation he criticises the phenomenon. bo attempts to force the audience to recognise the ways in which their lives are becoming shaped by the presence of an audience and to some extent uses his own life as a warning tale against this. he points out the way in which the ‘tortured artist trope’ means that your cries for help or roundabout attempts of addressing mature themes such as substance abuse, mental illness and trauma become part of that on stage persona and therefore become part of the joke. both bo and bojack address these topics in more discrete manners earlier in their careers, but this eventually becomes expected, and thus they are forced to explicitly detail their struggles with these topics in order to be taken seriously. even then, portions of the audience are inclined to see it as part of the persona or as something that fuels the creators creativity and thus does not need to be addressed as a legitimate issue. the emphasis on creating a character or persona promotes the commodification of mental illness: any struggle must be made into a song or a joke or a bit, must be turned into part of the act in order to have value. this actually serves to delegitimise these emotions and create a disconnect between the feeling and the person, as it becomes near impossible to exist without feeling as though you are acting. even when an artist’s cries for help become blatant, they continue to go ignored because now they serve the purpose of creating content that criticises the industry they stem from. online audiences can be seen as treating bo burnham and his insightful work as existing to demonstrate the negative effects entertaining can have, and because this insight is useful or thought-provoking to audiences, he is almost demanded to keep entertaining and creating. in response to this demand, his work becomes more meta and his messages become clearer, and the more obvious his messages, the more people he reaches. this increases audience demands and traps entertainers in a cycle fraught with internal conflict.
during bojack’s second season, bojack’s date asks him, ‘come on, do that bojack thing where you make a big deal and everyone laughs, but at the same time we relate, because you're saying the things polite society won't.’ this moment exemplifies how aspects of his genuine personality have now become a part of his persona and this is demanded of him in genuine and serious situations, undermining the validity of his emotional reactions. he immediately makes a rude comment to the waitress at the restaurant they’re in and satisfies his date by performing that character he has set himself out to be. some circles of the fan base have argued that bojack is written as a depiction of somebody with borderline personality disorder, offering a psychoanalytical lens through which to view this notion of performance. a defining symptom of borderline personality disorder is a fluctuating sense of self; having grown up on camera, being demanded to perform to others as young as six years old, bojack’s sense of self will have been primarily dictated by the need to act.  whether this acting is for the sake of comedy, or as a representation of masking his mental illness, when they need to act is taken away bojack entirely loses his sense of self and relapses into his addictions: ‘i felt like a xerox of a xerox of a person.’ burnham’s depictions of depression run along a similar vein; in his new special he poses the idea that his comedy no longer serves the same personal purpose it once did for him. he questions ‘shit should I be joking at a time like this?’ and satirises the idea that arts have enough value to change or impact the current global issues that we are facing. burnham’s ‘possible ending song’ to his latest special, he asks ‘does anybody want to joke when no-one’s laughing in the background? so this is how it is.’ implicit in this question is the idea that when the audience is taken away and there is nobody to perform his pain to, he is left with his pain. instead of being able to turn his musings and thoughts into a product to sell to the public, he is forced to just think about them in isolation and actually face them, an abrupt and distressing experience.
the value of performance and art is questioned by both bojack and burnham, particularly during the later years of their respective content. burnham’s infamous song, art is dead, appears to be a direct response to the question ‘what is the worth of art?’ he posits that performing is the result of a need for attention (‘my drug’s attention, i am an addict, but i get paid to indulge in my habit’) and repeatedly jokes throughout his career that the entertainment industry receives more respect that it deserves (‘i’m the same as you, im still doing a job or a service, i’m just massively overpaid’). his revelations regarding the inherent desire for attention that runs through all entertainers is frequently satirised in bojack horseman. bojack is comically, hyperbolically attention hungry and self-obsessed, and the show has a running gag in which he uses phrases along the lines of ‘hello, why is nobody paying attention to me, the famous movie star, instead of these other boring people.’ his constant attempts to direct the focus of others towards himself result in bojack feeling like ‘everybody loves you, but nobody likes you.’ his peers buy into his act and adore the comical, exaggerated, laughable aspects of his character, but find very little room to respond to him on a genuinely personal level because of this. interestingly, bojack appears to enjoy catering to his audience and the instant gratification it produces, whereas bo burnham becomes increasingly candid about his mixed feeling towards his audience. ‘i wanna please you, but i wanna stay true to myself, i wanna give you the night out that you deserve, but i wanna say what i think and not care what you think about it.’ he admits to catering to what audiences want from him, but resents both the audience and himself in the process as it reveals to himself which parts of his character are solely for the sake of people watching him.
within bojack horseman, this concept is applicable not only to the protagonist, but to the various forms of performer demonstrated in the plot. towards the show’s end, sarah lynn asks ‘what does being authentic have to do with anything?’ to which herb kazzaz responds, ‘when i finally stopped hiding behind a facade i could be at peace.’ this highlights the fact that because entertainers are demanded to continue the facade, they do not receive the opportunity to find ‘peace.’ this sentiment is scattered throughout the show, through a musical motif, the song ‘don’t stop dancing.’ the song stems from a life lesson bojack imparted to sarah lynn at a young age, and becomes more frequently used as the show progresses and bojack’s situation worsens.
sarah lynn is also used to explore the value of entertainers; in the show’s penultimate episode, she directly compares her work as a pop icon to the charity work of herb, arguing that if she suffered in order to produce her work. it has to mean something. she lists the struggles she faced when on tour: ‘i gave my whole life...my manager leaked my nudes to get more tour dates added, my mom pointed out every carb i ate, it was hell. but it gave millions of fans a show they will never forget and that has to mean something.’ implicit in this notion is the idea that entertainment is the epitome of self-sacrifice. there is a surplus of mentally ill individuals within the industry, largely due to the nature of the industry itself, but some may argue that the cultural grip the industry has, and the vast amounts of respect and money it generates annually, gives the suffering of these prolific individuals meaning.
the juxtaposing responses entertainers feel towards their audiences manifest as two forms of desperation: the desperation to be an individual who is held accountable, and the desperation to be loved and validated. we see both bojack and bo depict how they oscillate between  ‘this is all a lie’ and ‘my affection for my audience is genuine’, or between ‘do not become infatuated with me im a character’ and ‘please fucking love my character i do not know how to be loved on a personal level.’ bojack explicitly asks diane to write a slam piece on him and ‘hold him accountable’, similar to bo’s song ‘problematic’ in which the hook includes the phrase ‘isn’t anybody gonna hold me accountable?’ for his insensitive jokes as a late teenager. their self-awareness is what enables their self-evaluative qualities, but self-awareness is its own issue. bojack grapples with a narcissistic view of his own recognition of his behaviour before settling on a more nuanced, albeit depressing take. originally he makes the assumption that in recognising the negative aspects of himself, he is superior to those who behave similarly: ‘but i know im a piece of shit. that makes me better than all the pieces of shit that don’t know theyre pieces of shit.’ eventually, during his time at rehab he is forced to reconcile with the fact that self awareness does not, to put it bluntly, make you the superior asshole, it just makes you the more miserable one. the show does, however, make a point to recognise how the entertainment industry protects ‘pieces of shit’, prioritising their productive value over how much they deserve to be held accountable, demonstrated using characters like hank hippopoalus. the show itself obviously stems from the entertainment industry, as it is a form of media produced by netflix, one of the most popular streaming platforms available. bojack horseman and bo burnham represent the small corner of the industry that is reflective enough to showcase the damage it inflicts. this is powerful in terms of education and awareness, and urges audiences to question their own motives and versions of performance, but the reflection alone is not powerful enough to help the artists in question. burnham’s candid conversations surrounding his mental health continue to reveal a plethora of issues somewhat caused or sustained by the nature of his career. within bojack horseman, bojack is only able to stop hurting other characters when those characters construct a situation that forces him to face consequence, his introspection alone is not enough. while bojack ends on a message of hope, suggesting to the audience that reverting back to the status quo is not the only acceptable way for events to end, it leaves stinging lessons and social commentary with the audience regarding the unnatural and damaging narrative that performers live through. on a similar but markedly different note, bo burnham’s work and personal progression is playing out in real time, and not in a way that is as raw and genuine as it appears. each bit is planned, even the most vulnerable moments that appear unplanned and painful. his latest special is not entirely devoid of hope, but does translate to audiences as a somewhat exaggerated look around the era of social media and the development of performance, using himself as an example.
the absurdist humour that often acts as a vehicle for poignant statements or emotionally provocative questions is very specific to each media creator. bob-waksberg’s use of puns, tongue twisters and entirely ridiculous circumstances served to simultaneously characterise his points as an expected part of the show’s style of humour, similar to bojack’s emotional instability, but also to make them appear gut-punching in comparison to the humour. burnham’s work is similar in that poignant but blunt statements are often sandwiched between absurd and exaggerated jokes, making them stand out via contrast but not giving the audience too much time to dwell upon them as they are said. performance art is second nature to entertainers, and is presented a an issue that is infiltrating the general population via social media rather than solely affecting the ‘elites’. bojack horseman and bo burnham present the duality of artists simultaneously attempting to level the playing field and increase their chances of survival in the industry, and encourage audiences to know that everyone is bluffing and you’ll never have the right cards anyway.
i.k.b
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nemeseos-noctua · 3 years
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Hello! It's nice to see a new genshin impact writer! I saw requests are open, and there's two I have in mind (if it's ok with you): One is for Razor, Albedo, Xiao, and ganyu (possibly Aether if you can) wherein Reader is scared of love. Like, they're scared of opening up and love someone in fear of rejection or being tossed away. But yet they still daydream having someone who'd love them making it more obvious how much they want to love despite their fears anyway--
With this information, how will they confess to Reader about their feelings? Or comfort/console them?
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𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: albedo, xiao, ganyu, (separate) x gn!reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: reader has a pyro vision, albedo and xiao story spoilers in their parts
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: srry for cutting some characters off!! the character limit is 3! (but personally i would write for aether hehe hes so cute i love him)
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you just so happened to have a quest in dragonspine
you did not expect to see fatui—especially not fight them
and... you did not expect to get ganged up on! what is this? a bully session? what the heck?
Among the brawn and burly figures of the Fatui members, you didn’t fail to notice a streak of blonde and dazzling blue from a distance—your eyes widening as you prayed to whatever archon would dare to listen...
Please, please don’t be another stupid enemy. You thought with a grimace, your heart pounding in your chest as you could hear a voice—it was calm yet strong, like a endless waterfall or a river creek.
“Burst forth!” 
In a matter of seconds, a geo flower emerged from the earth, your form being lifted up on the tiny platform as shards of crystallized rock formed under you, nearly stabbing you in the gut.
Who? What? How? Who was this stranger? This vision-wielder?
Wasting no time, you plummeted down on a nearby Fatui—deeming this geo-user as ‘safe’, you summoned your own flames, charring the crystal snow black as you wrapped your arm around the blonde, barely taking any time to observe his features.
from then on, you never expected to grow close to this mystery man
turns out he was the chief alchemist of the knights! you weren’t personally associated with the knights... but being chief alchemist certainly was a grand title, right?
with the use of your pyro vision, you helped accompany—albedo—you learned his name was
at first, the two of you were just exploration buddies. but as time went on, butterflies began to form in your stomach, nervousness seemed to peak when he was around
love was like a poison—you knew it’d hurt, you knew it’d kill you to have a drop—
but you wanted it. you wanted love, you wanted to be held by albedo and to twirl his silky hair around your fingers...
but—would he want you?
You wanted to love Albedo so badly.
Yet you knew, you couldn’t. The alchemist just wasn’t the type for love, he was not the type to give kisses or reassurances, nor was he the type to confess with a rose in his hands.
It wouldn’t hurt to dream, though. 
The thoughts you had before you slept were of him, of how pretty his eyes were—you couldn’t even pinpoint a color for it. Sometimes, they were blue, sometimes, they were teal. 
With every shooting star that’d zip past the sky, every eyelash that’d fall and every fire that’d be lit with the palm of your hands... you hoped for a love. A love so grand it’d outshine the sun, a love so grand it could make you forget the past and undo the pain of before.
But, in the depths of your mind, in the wings of the butterflies that’d flutter in your stomach... you knew—
Albedo did not love you. 
albedo initially thought of you as a torch lighter.
LOOK, HE IS A LOGICAL AND RESOURCEFUL MAN. he does not see the world with a rosie-colored-lens like how many others do—he sees it as the facts
and with your pyro vision? combined with dragonspine, ooh, please... ain’t that a match lighter?
but as time went on, he started to see you in a new light
you were knowledgeable, you respected his views and even contributed sometimes! you were no prodigy of alchemy, of course, but you were well-versed in combat and oftentimes knew how to navigate dragonspine
(he asked you how you knew dragonspine so well. all you told him was “Pain”)
but... albedo is observant. he’s definitely aware of your feelings and nervousness, how you get overly sweaty near him and fumble on your words
it’s then he realizes—he likes you too
love is a foreign concept to him, uncharted territory and an unexplored region. of course, as an alchemist, it is up to him to discover the unknown
and love—love is unknown
how could one possibly dedicate their entire life to another? albedo always questioned this notion, for humans were free beings that wanted nothing more than to break free of their shackles
and yet—the moment the alchemist met you? all of those questions flew out of the window
he wished... he wished to love you. but to him, it looks as if you do not want to love him
It’s frustrating, really.
How Albedo would brush over your hand mindlessly, how he’d hand you an object and let your fingertips meet for two seconds too many, how his cold yet soft lips would curve into a smile upon seeing you return from your endeavors.
Why? Why? Why? Why did he do this? Was he aware of the way he made you go crazy? 
You wanted to love him, so so bad—but—
“[Y/N],” Albedo’s voice seemed to pierce through your thoughts as if he had heard them.
“Y-Yes?” You turned immediately, the rush of your heart not calming a bit, the nervousness of your leg that bounced up and down as a remedy that you wish didn’t have to be so obvious.
Averting his eyes from yours, you missed the pixie blush that dusted the tip of his ears. He was not aware of your insecurities—but he was aware of one thing.
That—that he liked you... a lot, in fact.
“Recently...” Albedo started, clearing his throat anxiously before continuing, “I have started to develop some... feelings, for you. It is okay if you do not reciprocate, but it feels wrong to think about you in such a light when you are not awa—“
“Yes!”
You winced.
And then, everything seemed to crumble. Was he talking about someone else? Was there someone behind you? Was this a mindless prank? As it had been all those years ag—
A hand rested on your cheek, bringing you back to reality with the mere touch of his fingers.
albedo... in all of his intelligent prowess... was not expecting for you to say yes
in the public, he is a genius— a prince, a prodigy, even. but to him, he is but a failed student who is trying his best in completing his master’s final orders:
find the meaning of life
what is life? life is broad, life is different, life is... well, life.
at first, albedo had assumed that his master was talking about living life, as in plants or animals.
but now—with you, with klee, with mondstadt, with everyone. 
the chief alchemist seemed to realize:
life, life was in you.
life brought joy, laughter, pain, excitement, happiness—
and sometimes, even love
“But Albedo I—“
“It’s okay, [Y/N]. Though I am not personally aware of what seems to be troubling you, I will do everything in my power to assure that you feel comfortable with me.”
Life was short, Albedo noted. 
So—he wants to enjoy it.
—With you.
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xiao does not fear rejection, but he does fear love
how pitiful... for a guardian yaksha such as him to fear such a trivial matter
love—love was scary. love could take control of him like how he was manipulated in the archon war, love could tug his arms and move him around like a puppet
he, adeptus xiao, did not want to love
but then, you came in. and it frustrated him tremendously. you were but a mere mortal, a fleeting life that came into his eternal one. you were someone who he did not deserve
and yet, he loved you
so much, so so so much, he can’t bear it. he can take on all those karmic binds, all those whispers and hatred—yet he cannot bear the love he feels for you. he cannot bear the way his heart races or leaps whenever he sees you, he cannot bear you
but—his heart does not like the fact that you feel the same
you had told him before, one night, a few months ago... you told him how you were afraid of love
you were afraid of getting tossed away, of being forgotten like the fallen archons in war, like a side character in a play of fontaine
and all xiao could do was scoff. whoever dared to throw you away would meet his spear, his rage. he could not fathom a world where you were hated, where anyone would dare to reject you—because, because—
you were his world, regrettably
Pacing up the stairs of Wangshu Inn, you ignored the gross feeling of your clothes sticking to your skin.
“[Y/N].”
Jolting up, your eyes met with that of the Guardian Yaksha—his piercing gaze and unwavering strength eyeing you down as if you were a pest.
“You’re going to get sick. Your mortal body cannot withstand such weather,” Xiao scolded, and on cue, a flash of light zipped through the air, the deep rumble of thunder following soon after.
Observing the way you flinched at the noise, Xiao merely wrapped an arm around your waist, teleporting you to the top of the inn and into your room.
“Dry up. I will return with soup,” The adeptus waved off your nervous gaze. He was not stupid, he has seen mortals succumb to sickness, and he hopes that you will not be one of them.
but as he heads to the kitchen, he cannot help but notice—notice the fact that you seemed to be... uneasy around him
was it something he said? was he perhaps too harsh with you? you of all people should know his words mean well, though...
and ugh, here it is again. the feeling of love that made even him overthink the smallest of things
yet after he brought you some soup and got you into bed, the question still ran around his mind like a halo. did you hate him? was this sickness bringing out your true thoughts?
well, yes and no
“Xiao...” You quietly murmured, wincing as the winds picked up inside your room, materializing a certain Yaksha out of thin air.
“What?”
“I’m sorry...”
“...?”
Rushing up to you, Xiao immediately placed a hand on your forehead, worried that you were on the brink of death.
“I’m sorry for liking you.”
“... What?” His eyes widened in disbelief, in shock. Sorry? Why were you sorry? Did you regret liking him? Was that why—
“I know...” You trailed off, in a drunken state of sickness, “That you don’t love me. But that’s okay. I just... wanted to let you know... because I’m afraid you’ll say no... but if you say no, I can at least move on...”
Staring at you fiercely, his breath hitched in his throat. No? No? He would never say no to you, ever, ever.
“Don’t move on,” Was all he could muster. 
Don’t. He wasn’t ready for love, no, he never was—but—
He did not want you to leave. 
This action of sickness was finally a catalyst, a catalyst for Xiao to confess to you properly when you were in the right state of mind.
And hopefully—when he does, you will say yes. 
xiao only confesses because he does not want to lose you
his karmic binds, the whispers, the screams. he does not want you to get tainted by them—so he is selfish, he is selfish for loving you and confessing to you... but he, he cannot bear to see you go
a double-edged sword, love is. it stabs his heart, skewering it as if it were nothing. it plunges his mind, clouding his thoughts as they fill with you and only you
can’t he just indulge in this fluffy feeling, once?
no—he doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve you.
Under the rising stars and floating lanterns, the two of you sit. It is an unspoken love, you both share, it is an unwritten rule that paints the back of your minds like a canvas of colors. 
But love—is love. Love is the rainbow that forms in the sky when the rain is over, love is the sun that shines, washing away all of the coldness of the world.
Love is you.
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ganyu feels... alone
so when you come into her life like a prospering glaze lily, she wants nothing more than to love you!
but you, confuse her. she is 100% sure you return her feelings, so why do you not seem to be... excited, about it?
To an immortal like Ganyu—love changes. At first, love was for the world, but then it shifted for mankind, and then it moved to... you.
She was no strange to love, in fact, she welcomed it! Ganyu wants to feel as mortal as possible, so when you stumble in and make her fumble for words—she knows she has fallen.
Like a meteor or a person—she falls for you. Everything reminds her of you, every flower and every bird makes her want to talk to you and spend her time with you.
But lately—you have been quite... reserved.
at first, ganyu thinks she is the problem. that she has done something wrong and she is a terrible crush
but then, she hears rumors. rumors about your past loves and how they rejected you mercilessly, how they played you like a marinette doll and caused you pain
to ganyu—that is the lowest any mortal could ever go. but for now, that is not her problem. she wants to help you, to make you realize that you are deserving of love and that you—you make her feel love
she—of course, does not confront you about this directly. ganyu is far too experienced to bring up past conflicts
but, she will subtly make you realize her feelings. with morning and night walks around liyue harbor, with hangouts and ‘dates’ at liuli pavilion...
love... it’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?
“Ah, the food here is certainly marvelous,” Ganyu gushed, enjoying a nice plate of jade parcels as you spared a smile.
“Yes, thank you for this, Ganyu. I know you work a lot and—“
“Of course, [Y/N]. Everyone needs breaks,” The woman returned your kind gesture, eyes crinkling in amusement as your heart pounded so loudly in your chest.
“In all honesty, [Y/N]. I feel quite a connection to you, and though I am aware you are hesitant— I just wanted to let you know that you are loved... by many people, not only me,” Ganyu rested her chopsticks down, making complete eye contact with you as her blue hair framed her face. The black and red horns that adorned her head glimmered—the kindness and delicate features of her nose and lips, her eyes and smile—
Your breath hitched.
ganyu—of course— does not expect an answer right away!
in fact, she thinks it’s quite unorthodox to confess to someone who is afraid of love—but her instincts told her it was right
it was abrupt, she knows. you don’t have to say yes, she knows.
but still, love was a game of chance—just as gambling, betting, anything. love was a game for two
so she took it. she took the chance, hoping that maybe you, you’d say yes.
“I...” You trailed off. You didn’t know Ganyu returned your feelings, neither did you ever imagine she could... Ganyu was half-adeptus, a caliber above you and your mortal-ness! Why would she ever think of you as anything more tha—
“Do not be afraid, [Y/N],” Ganyu’s voice was gentle as she soothed you. She had been here before, she had seen you cry out of a yearning for something you couldn’t have, she had seen your heart shatter and your mindset retract.
“I... like you too,” You responded, you felt light-headed, like you were soaring in the clouds that not even Celestia could bring you down.
Love, love was a gamble. And sometimes, you’d get your heart broken, your soul broken...
But love—it wasn’t so bad after all.
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― constellations!
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cloudenthusiast2 · 3 years
Text
To be a human - Scaramouche x reader - Part 3
You knew committing to a relationship with Scaramouche would be no easy task but you loved him dearly and unlike others, you believed he wasn't evil. But as a mortal and the devoted protector of your village you were too much of a good person, too much of a human compared to him and your differences slowly start to show.
Previous: Part 2 Next: Part 4
Length: ~1000 words (??)
Trigger warnings: yelling, Scara being an asshole (so nothing new)
You stormed into your own house and threw your polearm far away from you. It landed on the other side of the room, loudly clattering on the ground.
You could hear Scaramouche's steps behind you but before he could've caught up to you, you flounced to the kitchen.
All you wanted to do is shut the door behind you but even then, something held you back from doing it. The great sense of justice in you didn't let you separate yourself from your lover.
It wanted to hear an explanation.
How actually desperate you were for one! Even though you were absolutely furious, you still really hoped he could clean himself in your eyes with some words. Yes, it would only take some words, one sentence or a half and...
'You runned of like a spoilt child.'
You bit your lips to lock them and keep yourself from screaming and yelling at him.
What were you even hoping for? It's Scaramouche, he obviously won't realise he hurt you.
With slow movements, you turned around to face him. You looked into his icy eyes and when you spoke, your voice was just as cold as his gaze.
'Dare to explain what happened?'
'Are you stupid? You saw it with your own eyes.'
'I meant your reaction' you hissed in fury.
His answer was to simply shrug his shoulders.
'I sent them away. You should be grateful I did that before you could've made the situation worse.'
'Say, Balladeer' you narrowed your eyes. 'What would you have done if it was the other way? If my people attacked yours?'
He didn't even hesitate.
'Kill them' he claimed in a way that said the answer should've been obvious for you.
You tried to remain calm as you asked him:
'And you don't see a problem here?'
He has been standing in the kitchen's door but now he walked inside, closer to you. His movements seemed kind of threatening but you didn't move back an inch.
You always turned a blind eye to the truth about him. It was time to face it.
He stopped a feet away from you. He didn't come closer to try and reassure you, he did it to make sure you heard everything he said well.
'Shall I be the one to break it to you?' He asked mockingly, his grin showing pity and despite at the same time. 'I think it's time you finally realise. That these people's lives mean nothing.'
'You can't actually mean that' you declared immediately.
Scaramouche laughed and his voice sent shivers down your spine - instead of making you smile like it used to do.
'You're so naive, it kills me! My dear, I knew you were attached to these people but I had no idea you actually take this thing so seriously.'
'What the hell are you talking about?'
Your harsh, freezing cold tone wiped the smile off his face.
He rose his hands and tilted his hat back a little to take a good look at your face. The previous, icy look took over his expression once again as he spoke.
'These weak mortals are nothing but dust coming from dust.' He said bluntly and you knew he meant every single word that came out of his mouth. 'Their lives hold no meaning. They born, reproduce then die in a spam of some years. Disposable garbage.'
'So' your voice shook as you tried to speak after a long silence. 'This is... what I am to you? Replaceable, disposable garbage?'
'What?' You had every right to be shocked but now he seemed surprised as well. He shook his head, the bells on his clothing violently clinking. 'No, of course not. You're obviously different.'
'Why?'
Scaramouche blenched at this simple question and quietly stared for a minute.
You were deeply shook. So many emotions were fighting inside you but all you felt at that moment was deep, incredible sadness. You gulped to hold back your tears and repeated the question.
'Why... would I be any different?'
'Well... because you belong to me' he finally answered.
'Scaramouche, you're delusional!' You bursted out.
You started laughing. Because you couldn't believe you actually thought he was a good person. Because you were hysterical and made a stupid pun since he literally had a delusion himself.
'I'm only saying the truth!' He barked irately.
'You're lying!' You snapped so loudly that he unintentionally took a step back.
Scaramouche has never seen you like this. So mad. So done. You were patient with everyone and never raised your voice at him or anyone else.
'You're lying!' There was so much power and anger in your shout that it actually took his voice away. 'Mortals aren't insignificant just because beings exist that are more powerful than them! Not a single human's life is worthless! They have hopes and ambitions, they have the ability to change the world around them, just like you do! They feel, just like you... should do.'
You glared at him in fury, fervid fire burning in your eyes. You let go of the chair you have been holding onto and stepped closer to him.
He stood there without moving an inch, even when you put your face close so to his, he could feel your warm breath on his skin.
'I don't know what happened' you whispered quietly. 'But something is clearly wrong with you. Just what happened in Inazuma?'
'I have no idea what you're talking about.' Scaramouche finally moved. He grabbed your arm and pushed you further away from himself.
He thought that way he'd finally be able to breath freely but the weight on his chest didn't weigh less, even like this. It should've been a warning sign but the growing annoyance and anger inside his heart completely blinded him.
'I always felt like this' he stated, not caring about the impact his words caused. 'You knew it, don't try to deny the truth! And you know that I'm right! Face it!'
'You're not!' You screamed back at him. 'I will rather die before I agree anything you said!'
'Oh, you are going to die indeed if you keep believing in those ridiculous views of yours, don't worry.'
The exact moment these words left Scaramouche's lips, he deeply regretted saying them.
His heartbeat dropped as he saw your eyes widen.
There was a short silence.
Then you spoke.
'Get out' you whispered, your voice dying away. 'Get out of... my house.'
He looked at you once again. Opened his mouth then closed it.
You looked... broken. And he knew that he wouldn't be able to just replace the pieces that fell out because of him.
But the freezing cold that surrounded his heart suddenly started to melt away as his dismay slowly turned into anger.
Why should he feel bad again? It was you in the first place who had ridiculous views, it was you who got sensitive when all he did was to just tell you the truth! You were in the wrong here, not him!
'Leave' you repeated in a shaking but determined voice.
'Gladly' he nodded and the corners of his mouth curved up into a mocking, sarky smile. 'You're doing nothing but a burden holding me back anyway.'
'I said, leave!' You rose your voice one more time, trying your hardest not to cry in front of him. 'And don't ever come back again!'
Scaramouche laughed as he turned his back on you.
'Don't worry, I don't intend to. But don't say I didn't warn you!' He added as he waved goodbye. He stopped at the door for a moment and looked back at you one last time. 'One day you'll come to your senses and all of your ideals will be shattered. Looking forward to it.'
Your tears blurred your vision as you watched him walk out on the door he not so long ago stepped in as your lover.
And now that you were completely alone...
You could break down.
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nev3rfound · 3 years
Text
small changes have the biggest impact : b.b
being with bucky, you've learnt to be rather observant, but when it comes to small changes about yourself you seem to be rather oblivious. that is until you start to pick up on the small signs that you might be pregnant (1.3k)
masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!
requested: yes! by the very sweet @marry-me-calum-hood warnings: none that I'm aware of, but if there any please let me know!
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)
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Standing in front of the mirror, you could see him eyeing you from the bed. He was watching your movements closely, noticing you swaying from side to side and glancing at your ass from various angles.
“Does my ass look bigger to you?” Running your hands over your curves, Bucky licks his lips. "James?"
Snapping Bucky out of his thoughts, your glare breaks his daydream. "I, I mean," He stutters over his words and watches your gaze lower to the floor. "baby, I mean," Rising to his feet, Bucky rushes over. Now resting his hands on your hips, he kisses your neck sweetly. "you know, back in my day,"
He listens as you groan loudly, pulling his hands off of you as you spin to face him.
"If you dare start one of your old man stories, Buck," You roll your eyes, moving past him to pick up the nearest hoodie and slip it on, exiting your bedroom before he can say anything else.
*
"So, you all know the plan?" Steve questions, looking around at the three of you before the door lowers.
Scoffing lightly beside you, Bucky rests his hand on your waist. "We know the drill, Captain." Bucky salutes, not missing Steve rolling his eyes as he picks up his shield. "How you feeling today, doll?"
Bucky isn't oblivious, far from it. He's noticed some small changes in your attitude of late, how much you're now tugging on clothes or hiding your body from him. You've been feeling queasy during training or sit it out entirely when usually you're volunteering to fight your boyfriend at any given opportunity.
"I don't know, Bucky." You admit quietly, not wanting to draw attention from either Nat or Steve whilst their backs remain turned. "My suits been feeling a bit snug, and I know Tony didn't have it dry cleaned so it's not shrunk."
Humming to himself, Bucky can't help his eyes from wandering over your body. "You look beautiful, Y/n. If anything you're looking curvier." He comments quietly to you, brushing his lips across your cheek with a smile before Steve glances back to see you both.
"You two good?" Steve asks.
"Yeah." You nod, moving away from Bucky and stand beside Natasha. "Let's do this." You force a smile on your lips as Bucky's words linger in your mind. Bucky doesn't mean any harm, and you know that, but for some reason, it's hitting you deeper than it should.
Exiting the jet with Natasha, you follow after her instead of going with Bucky. "Hey, you two alright, pal?" Steve notices the frown forming on Bucky's face and his eyebrows furrowing together as you turn left into the building whilst he heads right trailing behind Steve.
"I think so." Bucky states uncertainly. "Y/n's been feelin' a bit off." He explains, keeping his gun raised behind Steve.
Once inside the building, Steve keeps his shield up whilst Bucky remains behind. "Nat said the same to me earlier." Steve remarks. "Told me she's got this glow." He shrugs his shoulders, unaware of Bucky's eyes widening.
"Glowing?" Bucky repeats. "Oh my god." He laughs lightly to himself, starting to put the events of the past six weeks together. "I, I've gotta find Y/n."
"Buck," Steve sighs, glancing over his shoulder to see Bucky already exiting the building, muttering through the comms for your location.
"Hate to say lover boy but Y/n's back on the jet." Natasha groans, causing Bucky's pace to quicken.
"Is she okay? What happened?" Bucky questions with urgency seeing the jet coming into view.
"Relax, she was just sick." Natasha rolls her eyes, continuing through the building. "She thought it would be best to sit it out. we can handle it."
"Thanks again, Nat." Your voice quietly interrupts their line, and Bucky can feel his heart rate calming at the sound of your soft words, the reassurance you're fine and close by.
Forcing yourself upright you grab a hold of the nearest gun, keeping it trained on the door as movement begins to stir outside. Taking a deep breath, you position your gun, ready to fire as it opens.
"Woah, doll, it's me!" Bucky yells, holding his hands up as he's greeted with a gun cocked in his direction.
"Oh," A nervous laugh sounds from you before you lower the gun to your side. "sorry 'bout that, Buck."
Dropping his own gun, Bucky hesitantly walks toward you. "Baby, is everything okay?" Bucky scans your face, noticing how your brief smile drops, allowing yourself to relax and you shake your head.
"I, I'm not sure, James." You whisper, closing your eyes.
Bucky pulls you over to the seats on the sides of the jet, sitting beside you he rests your hands in his, brushing his thumb over your knuckles delicately.
"It's me, Y/n, you can tell me anything." He quietly reminds you.
"I know." You sigh, forcing your eyes open to face his, only to see him looking back at you with all the confidence in the world. "Bucky, I, I think I might be pregnant." An involuntary laugh escapes your lips, quickly followed by a small cry as you clasp your hand over your mouth, tearing it from Bucky's grasp.
"Oh, Y/n." Bucky hushes, lifting his arm to bring you into his embrace as you sob into his chest.
"Are you, are you disappointed? I, I haven't done a test yet, but it makes sense, right?" You ramble, staring down at the floor.
Removing his arm from around you, Bucky mutters your name. "You, you really think I'd be disappointed?" It hurts his heart, that you'd think something like this would upset him. "Doll, this is everything I've ever wanted, but only if you do too."
Reaching for your chin gently, Bucky lifts your head up to see tears lining your cheeks whilst your lips quiver. "You, you want this?" You manage to ask between sobs.
"With you, always." Bucky reassures you, barely having time to process before you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest. Smiling to himself, Bucky rests his arm around your back, listening as your sobs subside. "We're going to be a family, Y/n." He states, listening to how natural it sounds rolling off his tongue.
"Then we better get you back in one piece." Natasha speaks up, breaking you two from your moment as she and Steve stand in the doorway with the files you all came for. "Can't have lil Natasha hurt." She winks before taking her seat opposite you.
"Or Steve," Steve comments, lowering his shield before patting Bucky's arm lightly.
"Yeah, no," You chuckle, remaining in Bucky's arms as you look over to your friends. "but nice try, guys."
Natasha smirks to herself whilst Steve tries not to frown. "Either way, we're getting you back in one piece, that's our niece or nephew in there." Steve points to your stomach, causing Bucky to cover it with his hand protectively.
"Don't you two worry," Bucky smiles down to you. "we've got it covered."
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raggaraddy · 3 years
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hello if you want you can ignore this of course but I was wondering what would vampire Hoseok do if he found out someone turned oc? Your fics are amazing by the way!
Bitten to death
A/N: Thank you for your request :) It was fun to write. However I took it less as a reaction, and more of a story prompt. So it's not exactly a conclusive answer to your question. I hope you still like it, though ^-^ 💜💜💜
Summary: You thought you knew everything about Vampires but when you wake up one you learn there are some important things you did not know. And it's only going to let worse once you learn why you were turned.
Trigger Warnings: Blood, death, maiming, choking, violence, mind control, abduction, yandere themes.
Vampire! Hoseok
It was like a horror story within your already horrific story. Some man you've never met before broke into Hoseok's house when only you were there. While you screamed and fought and instinctively called for Hoseok, he covered you in bites unlike any other you had felt before. Ones that made you suffer as if fire was coursing through your veins. You wish that you could say you were strong enough that your fight had some kind of impact. But in truth, it was over after only a few seconds. And it was in those few seconds that you felt your chest burning and your breath fill your lungs for the last time.
Waking you're met by the stranger hovering above you. Your head aching and your body throbbing in ways you had never experienced before. With a quick glance, you can see everything around you, and that does mean everything. Every single little detail. And the information is overwhelming.
Your mind feels as if it's breaking from everything you're taking in. For as far as you can see there are pallets and long isles of shelves lined up, the contents on every rack crystal clear. You can hear the sound of his shoes on the concrete and the dirt gritting underneath, and how each peak of sound travels and bounces off the farthest point in the warehouse. Even the smells, there are hundreds of them all hitting you at once. A few you know like the fragrance of the treated wood or the oils stain, but others you couldn't guess at. It's as if all of your senses are on high and you have no way to focus them.
Despite your panic, no matter how much you want to run, you can't. Laying on your back with your arms spread out to either side of you and your legs held together, you're being bound by the thinnest most delicate length of silver chain. Though, it's not tied. It's only draped over you, but still holding you as if it were stronger than any steel. Burning you as if it were touched by the sun.
You may have only seen a few newly made vampires before, but you have still been around them enough and know enough about their existence to recognize how and why your body feels wrong. And absurdly you can't help but feel betrayed. This was not supposed to happen to you. It was the only safety you got from belonging to someone who was called The Immortal King, and The Origin of Cruelty. No one was supposed to be foolish enough to steal from him, and most importantly, no one was supposed to be able to hurt you. But now because Hobi didn't keep you safe, he's now lost his blood supply and you've lost your humanity.
The stranger snaps his fingers, the sound bursting in your eardrums making you groan and wince as he repeats it. "Focus your attention on just this one sound. On just the sight of my hand. Feel the air around it." He coaxes you, snapping again. The noise echos dozens of times, ricocheting off every wall. The dull thud of his fingertips hitting his palm only sounding the once though.
Opening your eyes your concentration goes to the hand held above your face as he said, the space around it blurring. On the back of his pointer finger on an otherwise porcelain complexion, you notice a small patch of dry skin just below his knuckle. Clear blue-black defined veins wrapping the back of his palm. He clicks his fingers again and you catch the sound of friction from the way his finger rubs down his thumb, feeling the most minuscule shift in the air created by his motion.
The pinpointed attention helps for a moment, but then you shift your eyes to his face and the explosion of information overpowers you again. His hold comes around your neck keeping your head from turning. The tight pressure on your throat while stifling your movement, nearly makes you smile. There's no airflow to restrict. Your chest isn't heating, your body isn't convulsing trying to breathe. Even in this tense moment, you can't help but find it humorous, thinking how many times over the years had you wished for this exact thing when Hobi had squeezed the air from you.
"Watch my eyes," on his words your vision becomes immersed in them. They're piercing blue. Made up of streaks of white interlacing with a clear sapphire shade, like thousands of threads made out of the purest tropical ocean. A transparent irregular line encircling his pupil, and beyond that every distinct strand blurs together with the others until it reaches the shadowed grey edge that holds the circular shape. Slowly his jet black pupils dilate, stretching and filling his entire iris till every trace of colour is removed. As if transfixed, you're unable to close your own eyes, a flooding of bright light filling your field of view. The strength of it is so intense that the tendons in your sockets ache and your eyes begin to water. Tears rolling down the sides of your face, cresting in your ears.
"Apologies, you are only my second." He confuses you with a vague explanation you did not ask for. The black finally receding into its natural size. Your own eyes scrunching as you try to blink away the soreness. The bizarre occurrence leaving you feeling drained of strength, filling you with anxiety caused by the uncertainty, which is only worsened by the glimmer of triumph in his gaze.
Searching past him to the ceiling your brain is again processing the whole image instead of the sum of its parts. The strain in your head slowly fading, your tight held muscles releasing as everything begins to normalize. You don't know what he did, but it seemed to help.
He doesn't back away, continuing to invade your personal space. Although, the way his fingers are trailing along your skin while you're restrained on the floor is still not the worst thing he has done to you. Seeing as he killed you.
"I had almost given up hope that Jung Hoseok would love." His hand daintily caresses along your neck and up your jaw. Your eyes shutting as his fingertips run over your lips. "I began to fear it might not be something possible for him." He divulges, his touch still aimlessly wandering.
The way he speaks you can feel his vailed anger. Despite his soft words, this is not someone who cares about Hoseok's wellbeing, this is someone who hates him deeply.
"However, you restored my lost faith. And for that, I would like to thank you, Inamorata."
He thinks Hoseok loves you? Is he crazy?. He's possessive of you, that is all. Even in moments of deception or weakness when you had told him that you loved him, he's never said it back with any sincerity. And he has never said it of his own accord.
"Sir," your eyes reopen. "I think you've misunderstood. These," you weakly gesture to the silver, each slight movement searing the links deeper into your flesh. "aren't necessary. We are on the same side. I hate Hobi, more than anyone."
"Truly?" He asks tilting his head to the side. His white hair messily hanging across his forehead.
"Yes," you nod trying to insist your point. "He's kept me locked up for years." you chuckle dryly. Finding it nearly risible that all of this is because this man believes in a fantasy.
"Well then, you are free to rise," he nods resolutely. Plucking the chains out of your melted skin as you grit your teeth. The sound of the sizzle on his own skin baffling you as to how he can even lift them.
Sitting up you gently pull your limbs in, inspecting the blistered and bloody marks. The skin on your wrists already starting to intricately knit itself back together.
"Come here." The stranger calls from a rested place on one of the pallets to your right.
Standing, it is a bit hard to walk with your ankles still cut up but you make it to him decently. Looking around you, you can see the sun streaming in from the high windows that line the whole length of the warehouse. It's enough to light up the otherwise dark space, but with the sheer size of this place, the beams of sunlight do not get close to the two of you in the centre. Still in the middle of the day, it means Hobi can't get to you. Not easily at least. So you're on your own for now.
"Kneel." He instructs plainly. And you follow, lowering onto your knees in front of him. Your only thoughts are of escape. You may be in your first minutes as a vampire, but it should be simple to move quickly. It always seemed like something that came easily to them. "Inamorata, you will call me Master." he declares abruptly.
"Yes, Master." You smile confusedly. Inamorata? Why does he keep calling you that? You're unsure if it's a name or a title, but it's weirding you out.
Your face drops, your heart thumping, realizing what you said. The words you just spoke replaying in your head. You hadn't meant to say that.
Why did you say that?
In fact, why had you knelt? Why were you doing what he said at all?
With a gaped mouth you climb back to your feet. "Look, I think-um." You start not knowing what you want to say.
"Kneel." He orders again more forcefully yet with a knowing, jovial smirk. You shake your head hard, staying upright. You're not going to let him order you around. He has to be kidding.
Your brows furrow, your mouth drops open, and your forehead tightens as your knees bend against your wishes. You drop back into your knelt position. Grunting as your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into your legs, doing your best to resist without success.
Your eyes go wide in shock.
"Good. Now stay there," his voice makes your stomach drop. But your muscles relax, your shoulders dropping and your bottom lowering on your calves. Your body resting in this position.
This is nothing you have ever seen before. It's nothing that you knew was possible. It shouldn't be possible. On top of all the horrible advantages they already have, you're sure you would have known if mind control was one of them!
"How?" You gape, shaking your head in disbelief. "Why?"
"Why?" a smile fills his face, "What you have told me is far different than what I had heard." He stands and turns, tapping his foot against the top pallet sending it and its boxed contents flying. He grabs at the bottom slats of wood underneath and drags them closer to you with a horrid screeching on the concrete. Sitting back down he is now much lower and much nearer to you. So much so that his legs spread straight out on either side of you. "See, I had heard stories of the self-proclaimed King of Vampires, who had fallen in love with his human pet. That he kept her close, kept her safe, and drank from her exclusively."
"That's not love." you interrupt with a scoff, "That's imprisonment."
"Well, let us see what the truth is. Tell me honestly, Jung Hoseok's little Inamorata, do you love him?"
"Yes." You're mouth answers before your mind has time to think. "No!" you instantly correct.
The smile grows larger on his face "And what do you feel about him?"
"I'm scared of him. But I care for him." The words are pouring out of you uncontrollably, your face placifying as you speak. "and I miss him when he isn't home."
"And does he love you?"
"I think so, yes." You wish you could make yourself shut up! Your calm tone drops and you bite your jaw trying to take back your own body, growling as you do. "No! He doesn't." you snarl in a rapid shift.
"You think so? Then my last question; Do you want him to love you?" He asks satirically.
"Yes," The word slips out. Being accepted joyously from him. "You can't just make me say anything you want!" you shout. Your body is rigid and stiff as you think to stand with nothing happening.
"I did not," he chuckles, "I made you say what you believe is true."
"No, you didn't! Tha-" his finger raises to his lips shushing you, cutting you off like your voice had disappeared.
That is not how you feel! Hobi may have gotten better as time has gone on, but he is still cruel and malicious and heartless. The only thing this man is doing is speaking to your primal brain. The part of you that gave into its survival instinct and it's the part that you fight every day to repress so that you stay in control. You can't love him, it's not possible.
"Ha, you are far more amenable than my last. I can hardly feel any resistance." He mocks, tapping his temple. "And I recall Jung Hoseok trying to move heaven and earth to break free. Even Mansueto struggled to contain him. But you," he reaches down holding out his hand and you follow his gesture, your body moving independently to accept it. "You are a broken little thing."
You don't understand his ridicule. You're not moving consciously. Your own mind isn't connected to your actions. So you can't fathom how your body is even reacting, let alone how you should be able to fight it.
"Stop." You complain, your voice coming out with far less strength than you had intended. "Look, Hoseok doesn't have my blood anymore, okay. So just leave me out of whatever fucked up feud you have you have going with him."
"No, that is not enough." his tone becomes suddenly harsh. He lifts his hand and you stand as he raises it. "He stole someone precious to me and he must feel the same agony of loss."
"You're wrong." you swallow, working to overcome your nerves, "I'm sorry, but you just are. He doesn't love me. I'm not precious." You try to reason, seeing your pleas falling on an unreceptive man.
"We will see."
The sun has barely set before you hear commotion beyond the metal walls.
You had tried over and over to pry information from this man, to convince him to let you leave. But you were unable to gather so much as a name from him, and clearly, you failed to be let go. After a certain point of ignoring you, he stopped you from speaking altogether. Not allowing you to say a word until he permits it. More than that though, he filled your head with many instructions. Telling you how to behave in anticipation of Hoseok's arrival.
100 meters in front of you the locked doors are ripped off their hinges, a dozen men and women pouring into the warehouse with inhuman speed. But as if time slows down your eyes adjust and you can see them, see their movements with full clarity. Hoseok comes in last and straight down the middle into the open square that you all occupy. And you must admit, you are genuinely happy to see him. Now you just want him to hurry up and get you out of here.
The man steps forward to meet them while you are sat on the stack of pallets behind him. Your only instruction at this time is to sit quietly and wait for him to call you. Hating the feeling of being restrained by your own body.
Watching them all lineup versus a single man, you find it comical how outmatched he is.
Hobi always said that when he got tired of playing with your human body, he was going to turn you. And he was furious if anyone robbed him of even your smallest reactions, so clearly, he was going to be beyond pissed that someone sped up his plan, and took your death away from him.
"That's mine," Hoseok puffs up his chest, looking past the man's shoulder to you. 
The only thing that's confusing you, though, is if this man knows who The Vampire King is, why he didn't expect to be met with hell on earth, and why he didn't prepare better.
"Jung Hoseok, always so impolite. Do you not think you should greet an old friend after so many years?"
"We can talk all you like, Kol," Hoseok snarls, finally giving a name to your killer. "Once I get my property back."
"I think you'll find this is my belonging now." he chuckles in a brief pause. Hoseok's expression darkens, his eyes becoming murderous. The fury around him actually making you shiver. "Do you like the modifications I made? She is much more durable now."
Supposedly, Hobi's already noticed your change, because he doesn't look at you again. Instead, the two men have an intense staredown. All of the vampires on his side looking ready to kill on a word.
"And far more obedient. Come here," Kol calls you, holding his hand out at shoulder height for you to take. Moving automatically, you jump down from the stack of wooden pallets placing your fingers on his palm.
Unable to stand the rage on Hoseok's face you look down, just missing the exact moment he charges. But you see an instant later as he is thrown back like a paper doll into four stories of shelves, his weight bringing the metal, the shelves, and the products down on top of him as the whole structure collapses. His men looking as startled as you to see Hoseok so easily discarded.
Before the toppling construction settles, Kol breaks from your side and an incredible, horrible scene breaks out. His speed is something you can't follow, even now. You only see the trail of destruction when he stops. One after the other, he made his way through half of the vampires, ripping them apart. Literally tearing some in two halves. Decorating the square with blood and innards.
The others are as belated and overwhelmed as you, only just having the sense to react as his blurred image stops. When he advances again, this time he doesn't use his quickness for an advantage and simply ploughs through them. They attack all at once, and still as they grab and strike at him, their forces barely move him. And his response is terrifying.
You can only bear to watch the first one. Kol's fist driving through a woman's chest, the horrid cracking of her ribs as he tears it back out making you want to scream. But his orders have you completely silent. Instead, you close your eyes, sealing your hands over your ears. Trying to block out the violent sickening sounds of his destructive rampage.
There's a last thud before it falls quiet again. Your eyes springing open to see as horrific of a sight as you had imagined. He's dripping in blood. Drenched in it. And Hoseok's people are strewn in every which way. Not a single one having survived.
Sauntering through the sea of dead bodies, he makes his way to the side where Hoseok is unmoved, tossing away the beams and panels as if they were nothing. Grabbing him by the ankle, he drags him from the rubble into the clear space in front of you. The man you once thought of as the most powerful in existence, and his troupe of vampires, was completely demolished in mere seconds of work. And you can only watch on with your body shaking. Your hopes of rescue decimated. Your chest aching with worry, even for Hobi's sake.
"Now that it's a more intimate number of us, should we talk?" Kol releases him, brushing past you as he sits where you had before. His action triggering an instruction he provided earlier, forcing you to follow him and kneel at his feet.
Sitting up, Hoseok rubs the back of his hand against a large gash under his eye. The ferocity not having left his mannerisms. "You disappear for 90 years, and you show up to what, gimmie a blood bath." His laugh falls into a grimace as he stands himself back up.
"I was created in the 13th century and you brought infants to a fight with me. What did you think would happen?" Kol asks scornfully.
"I was hoping they would do a little better," He smirks, shrugging off their deaths. "Okay, that's my bad. But still, that doesn't tell me what you want. Or did you just want to remind me that you're still alive?" He taunts, his sardonic nature returning, "Remind me that you're still pissed and you can kick my ass. Good job. You put on quite a show." he smiles, his tongue running over his fangs as he gestures around at the gruesome display. "But she," he points to you with two fingers, bitterness lacing his next words, "is worth nothing to you."
"Oh, she is worth everything to me," Kol slides forward, his hand brushing down the back of your neck, "because she is worth everything to you."
On those words, you get the most heart-wrenching sight. A pang of insecurity shows up in Hoseok's eyes. Uncertainty and something so close to fear. The smile fading as he looks him up and down.
"I am curious, though, Vampire King, do you think she will detest the Sire bond as greatly as you did?" he punctuates the question, tugging your head back by your hair. "If I treat her as Mansueto treated you, how long do think until she breaks?"
With immense speed, Hoseok splinters one of the wooden crates near him, lunging at Kol, aiming to drive the shard into his heart with a roar. But he's caught before his hand ever plunges forward. Instead, Kol takes the sharp wood and spikes it into Hoseok's stomach. Continuing to dominate him with a solid blow, knocking him off his feet, smacking him into the concrete in front of you. Stepping down, he swings his foot punting Hoseok in the chest hurling him back among the remains of his fallen creations.
You had thought if you ever saw Hobi being handled as roughly as he treated you, that you would enjoy the Karma of it. But seeing him so easily immobilized is making you sick with fear and mostly sadness.
With Kol having stood, you're no longer bound on your knees and you scramble to your feet. You want to run to Hoseok's side but before you have the chance Kol drags you into him, his hand wrapped around your waist, his other crudely brushing the hair from off the side of your face.
"Call out to him. Tell him your every feeling." He hushes the order in your ear.
"Hobi!" you yell, not sure you would have even needed to be compelled to want to shout for him. "Get up, please. I'm scared. I wanna go home!"
"Go to him," Kol releases you and you sprint to his side, hardly able to slow your sudden frantic speed.
Doubled over Hoseok is bleeding profusely. He needs your blood- but you can't do that anymore. And you have no idea what to do. You don't know how to help him or how to get out of here. He's the one that is supposed to keep you safe.
Coming from behind you, Kol bends down shoving you out of the way to lift Hoseok by the throat. "Stop!" you follow their movement, hanging on Kol's arm. "Stop! Please." But you have no effect. Instead, he jerks the wood dagger out making Hobi yell in pain.
"Do you recall what you said as you killed our Sire?" Kol whispers maliciously. "You told me that 'I will get over it'." Releasing him, he lets Hoseok plummet to the floor and you drop with him trying to catch his weight. "In 100 years from now, I'll let you see her again and you can tell me if you were able to take your own advice." he smiles spitefully.
"Hobi," you whine lowly. Brushing his hair from his sweat and blood wet forehead. "I don't want to go with him. Rather the devil you know, right," you softly chuckle, trying to pull his energy back.
Even though you know the both of you have no chance at the moment, you guess you're just looking for an affirmation that he isn't going to let you go and let this other man keep you for the next century.
"Please," you whisper, your waterline filling with tears.
Reaching towards you, Hoseok's hand constricts around your throat, pulling you into him like he has countless times before.
"You're mine," he growls through pained grunts. His anger lessened, distress replacing it. But he gives you the answer he could see you searching for.
"Yes," you nod subtly. Closing your eyes as you lean further into his hold.
"Get up," Kol orders, interrupting you.
Despite his tightening grip, you pull away from Hobi, standing as you were told. The elder vampire taking your arm leads you away through the bodies to the open doorway.
"Say goodbye Jung Hoseok," Kol calls back, leaving him injured and alone, making you wish more than ever that you could pull back. "And do not worry, I'll take very good care of her for you."
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toshiirou · 2 years
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Linkverse Writing - Lynel Hair Soup
This is based on a sorta deleted scene from the LV comic, a TLOZ AU by @minas-linkverse ! (Sorta deleted as in the idea was there but it didn't make it to the official cut of the comic.) Characters featured are Hero and Mini!
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The Other realm was peculiar. It was open an endless, full of bright light with no particular light source. There was no distinct floor but there was a place for her to walk on. Not that the Hero's spirit was in any way unused to the amorphous in-between place where she and the Goddesses lived, she had been there for eons after all.
The Hero's spirit, known in many of their lifetimes as "Link" sighed, slumped over his desk. Things had been a little fraught, lately. He could feel the weight of all their stresses, having settled quite firmly along the length of her spine like a live wire, keeping her always just a little bit on edge. She, he, they... the Hero's spirit had been every Link, but every Link has also simply been themselves. He was every Link, but they alone, or together, were not her. Hero had no more control over them and their problems than she had over the very nature of her existence.
And yet, the fact that she was, is, had been, will be, the various incarnations of her spirit, Link, did mean that the challenges that left them cracked and hurting right down to their very core... also left her cracked and broken. Which was a problem. Apparently. Definitely. Maybe?
The Goddesses saw it as a problem. Especially when the fault lines in her psyche felt so inflamed she felt like she was coming apart at the seams. And what the Goddesses saw as a problem was usually corrected without prejudice. Only their corrections had a very straightforward and brutal logic that didn't really align with the compassion of human nature.
Hero supposed there should be more panicking when one's personhood was being threatened but Links did nothing better than function under the pressure of an immediate threat. It was when one was safe that it all came falling apart.
"Oh my." A low, soothing voice came from behind. "You seem stressed out."
Hero jumped, even though she could feel some of the tension leech out of her muscles. Hylia had a deep, soothing voice that reminded Hero of being wrapped up cosy near a crackling fire.
"Hylia!" He turned around, maybe only a little bit high strung. Just a tad. "Please tell me you have good news."
Awkward silence. Hero could feel themselves sweating. Uh oh.
"They asked us to speed things up." Hylia said. Hero felt like his spirit could be leaving his body... if she wasn't just pure spirit. Hylia continued to talk. "But I'm sure things have gone just swimmingly after your wonderful entrance!"
Oh no. Hylia didn't know. Miserably, Hero shoved the viewing scroll towards her.
"Oh?" A pause. "Oh no." Hylia said, echoing Hero's thoughts. Hero could feel herself sink into himself miserably.
"...I just made it worse."
Hero shoved her hat down and pulled her scarf up. Retreating away from the world just a little in her misery. Upsetting things always made them want to find some small, dark corner in which to hide.
Hylia's warm weathered hand found the back of her head. It brought a measure of comfort.
"Look dearie," Hylia said, low low and soothing. "Things tend to get worse before they get better."
Hero slumped further, fiddling with his fingers. She could feel the weight of Hylia's gaze on their back.
"It would be good for you to rest, give you all some time. But if you're really restless then why don't you just start small, alright?"
Starting small... automatically Hero was reminded of a time where it was the smallest things which had the biggest impact. Starting small... would be a good idea.
Straightening up, Hero faced Hylia and formed his left hand into a fist in front of himself and bobbed it a couple of times in the sign for 'yes'. She had an idea of what she could be doing now.
Or rather, who she could check in on.
The Link who fought on behalf of the Minish was himself, ironically small. As being the Hero of the Minish was his titular achievement and for his... petite stature, Hero was quite happy to call him Mini. If she was Link and he was Link who was flying the loftwing? Better for them both to use a nickname, she thought. It was nice and fair that way.
She found Mini after wriggling through three cracks in time, in a flat area of land surrounded by trees on three sides. He might have been small but the hole he was digging with single minded determinism was not.
Hero blinked.
There, still in front of them, was Mini clawing at the ground beneath with the entire fury of a twelve year old. On his hands were some over-large leather gloves from which long and wicked sharp claws protruded from the end. Ah the mole mitts. Hero could remember many a happy adventure with those wonderful tools.
Ah but this was not the time.
Dig, dig, dig, dig. Went Mini.
"Hello," said Hero.
Dig, dig, dig.
"Are you doing well?"
Dig, dig.
"Is there anything I can help you with?"
Dig. Stop. Mini looked up, looked Hero up and down before nodding, and pointed straight at the hole.
Kids loved digging holes. Hero loved it himself once, when she had been Mini. It might not be life saving work, or a worldly quest, but Mini had directed them to where help was needed and Hero would oblige.
She looked at her sword, gave it a mental note of apology, and started to dig.
Two people are inevitably better than one, which Hero could personally attest to. With them both working, the hole became wider and deeper and more like a pit in the ground. There was a quiet satisfaction, Hero found, in simple menial labour. Being able to work towards a goal and see it happening, in being able to move their body (...spirit?) without having to think and worry and fret about the sticky situation he was in.
It was with great pride and a warm feeling of accomplishment that Hero finally stopped, seeing her companion had put down his claws. They made a good dirt hole. A great and normal thing to be proud of.
Humming happily, Hero boosted Mini out of their pit before putting herself up after him. Mini set towards the surrounding trees, where he started pointing out sticks and particularly broad leaves for Hero to pick up. Apparently it was to become an animal trap.
It had been a long time since Hero had to hunt for food, in any given measure of "time", and she found herself wondering what beast would be their prize catch today. Mini might not be able to cook but Hero could remember some neat culinary tricks from some of their other lives.
They set up a trap. A convincing one, even. Hero is impressed despite herself.
"Good job!" They said, turning to Mini. Mini, eyes shining, nodded.
Then he turned and started walking away.
"Uhm."
Walk, walk, walk, point to where they were standing, walk, walk.
"Do you want me to wait here?"
Nod.
"Alright then," Hero murmured, turning her eyes skyward and settling in to wait. It shouldn't take long.
The orange sheen of a sunset kissed sky was just starting to show before Mini returned.
Hero had waited, looking around her. Then she sat down for a while before deciding she might need to be on her feet for when Mini returned. She counted her fingered and her toes, rocked on the balls of his feet, and cracked all their knuckles. And waited.
He was thinking of what sort of stew she could cook for the little guy when Mini crashed out of the trees around them, boar hot on his heels.
He ducked under the great broadsword aimed at his head.
Huh... thought Hero. That's a funny boar.
The Lynel roared, and Hero's nonexistent blood drained from her face.
It was not a boar.
It was coming straight towards her. No, it was being led there, by the smallest Link, and current contender for most off the rails plan of action Hero had seen.
(Off the rails was an expression that Hero was certain very few Link incarnations would understand, but he could quite vividly remember the experience of a train crash, and it looked like one was heading straight towards her.)
They were in a battle ready stance is seconds, and it was within a scant few seconds more than the Lynel was upon them.
In an impressive feat off speed and dexterity, Mini activated his Roc's cape and soared over the precarious pile of sticks that obscured the opening to their pit. The Lynel, fast as it might be, was not so lucky, and went crashing through the false floor. Hero was at Mini's side in a moment, grabbing the young Link by the scruff of his cape and hauling them both far away from the murderous being that was only barely contained by a divot in the land. A few seconds of assessment was all Hero needed: that Lynel would not be contained for long.
Unfortunately, neither would Mini.
When wriggling, kicking, and throwing fists were clearly getting him nowhere, Mini did what he did best. He shrank down to the size of a mouse.
Oh no you don't, thought Hero, before she too shrank.
Even with the grass towering above them like trees, Hero could spot Mini sprinting through the foliage, his distinctive white cape working against him. Lord upon lord, he was going straight in the direction of the thrashing Lynel.
Hero took off at a sprint, weaving through obstacles like a seasoned veteran. Despite her experience, Mini was gaining ground. Hero might have been him at one point, but he was him more recently than she was him, so to speak.
And it showed. Mini was staying ahead, gaining ground by increments and probably executing every evasive maneuver he knew. Hero himself was bringing out all the stop.
Given time, Hero mostly likely would have caught him. But there was limited time, and a limited space to run before they met the edge of the pit. Mini leapt off the edge, returning to full size mid-air. Hero followed, unsheathing her sword.
As adept as Mini was, he was not extraordinary fast. His leap put him almost right below the Lynel, and directly in the path of its rampage. Even lightening quick reflexes might not save him from injury.
Luckily for Mini, his companion had a speed praised by the Goddess of Light herself.
Hero could see it happen in flashes.
Breath in; leap. Mini standing proud below the Lynel, reaching for his sword.
Grab. The Lynel's great broadsword, ready to swing.
Slash. Hero's own sword, scored so deep in the skin of the Lynel's neck it almost rendered the being in two.
And land. Releasing her breath, Hero took the hilt of her sword and pulled it clean from the defeated opponent. The physical evidence of its use shucked off it like oil, returning it to its pristine incorporeality.
Now. To calm down and tell the child how dangerous and foolish that plan had been without yelling or demeaning or getting him to shut down.
She turned to Mini, expecting any number of reactions. Frozen, fearful, shocked. Instead his eyes were wide with wonder, almost sparkling in the sunlight. He had a look of awe and admiration, and Hero could feel themselves flush at the attention.
"No wait! you were not supposed to find that cool! Are you listening to me?"
Hero could feel her hair going grey (metaphysically of course) as the young Link nodded along, eyes bright with possibilities.
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xiyao-feels · 2 years
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What, in your view, is the biggest difference between xiyao and wangxian?
Xiyao share a lot of values, in ways they mostly don't share with other people. I don't just mean that they value the same ends; while JGY is more inclined to, and has more need to, think of quite extreme means to accomplish extraordinary ends, they both do think that sometimes necessity can compel quite awful things. They also share significantly preferences over kinds of means—e.g. all things being equal they would both prefer to solve a problem by being polite than, say, by yelling—and appreciate this preference in each other. I think it also matters—and this is one of the places they really stand out—that they can care about, and be motivated by caring about, things on a broad scale, things that are very far away from them and have no personal impact on them whatsoever. Now, obviously there are also places where they differ, and places where they differ significantly, but the places where they do agree are places that are very important, for both of them, and often places there isn't really anyone who shares it in the same way.
All this is an important part of what draws them together, and partially as a result of this, xiyao's relationship is in no small part about collaborating on projects together; to change things, to make things better by their mutual lights, to achieve goals they both share because of this underlying agreement. (Other contributing factors include JGY's scope of vision and LXC's very strong, and indeed accurate, belief in JGY's exceptional abilities, and a concomitant willingness to believe that he can indeed achieve things that seem impossible.)
Wang//xian's relationship isn't like this. They love each other very, very much, and they have a great relationship, but though they certainly wander around night-hunting, they're not really collaborating on projects on the same way; I think you could say that they're both working on the project of training the junior disciples, but that's really the only thing, and it's much more limited than xiyao. Moreover, wang//xian's relationship is quite famously not founded on the kind of agreement in values xiyao share (ch 99, emphasis mine):
Thirty-three whip scars! He was punished in one go, once for each person. You should know how much it hurts when it lands on your body, for how long you have to rest to recover! After he went out of his way to send you back to Burial Mound and returned in such low spirits to receive his punishment, how long he kneeled before the Wall of Rules! I told him when I went to see him, Young Master Wei had already made a grave mistake, there was no use augmenting it. But he said… that he could not say with certainty whether what you did was right or wrong, but no matter what, he was willing to be responsible for all of the consequences alongside you.
It ultimately doesn't matter to LWJ whether WWX is right or wrong; all that matters is that he's WWX. Although, again, they love each other very much, and although WWX has certainly always been interested in LWJ, I think their relationship is to some extent founded on LWJ's devotion. In contrast, it does matter to LXC whether JGY is right or wrong—it's not the only thing that matters, but it does matter, especially when it comes to their relationship and mutual respect as opposed to simply failing to condemn JGY. And it matters to JGY, and is very much part of why he's drawn to LXC, that LXC actually cares about the things he cares about, for their own sake. And then part of the way they both care about things is that they both tend to be I suppose you could say builders—they are less inclined to running around solving problems individually than they are to organizing and convincing different people and groups of people, to manage and improve things not by fixing things one-off but by working on the system.
I'm not sure that all this is the biggest difference between xiyao and wang//xian, but it's certainly a significant one.
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helloalycia · 3 years
Text
just a kid [one] // wanda maximoff
summary: you're a field medic at the Avengers Tower and get into an accident where you hurt your head. It was only supposed to be a mild concussion, yet things don't seem to be going right when you try to remember the accident.
warning/s: mentions of violent/dark scenes.
author's note: here’s the first of a little two-parter I worked on not long ago, hope you all like it!
part two | masterlist | wattpad
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I woke up with heavy eyes and an aching head, momentarily dazed.
"Hey there, Doctor Y/L/N... can you hear me okay?"
Breathing deeply, I found the energy to clear my throat and scan the view above me. I was laying down on a bed, in a hospital room, I think. The lights were ever so bright and I now knew how annoying it felt to wake up like this as my patients had.
"What happened?" I asked, eyes roaming around until they settled on my doctor. "Doctor Maya? What am I–? Why am I here?"
I recognised Doctor Maya as a colleague of mine, though unlike me, she was a doctor who worked at the Avengers Tower whereas I worked as a field medic so was more on the move. The only reason I'd be here is if I was in an accident. Was I? I wasn't sure.
"Something happened when you were on your last mission," she explained gently. "I– hold on. I'm going to get Miss Maximoff, okay?"
"Wanda?" I asked, furrowing my brows and pinching them to relieve the stress in my head. "Where is she? Is she here?"
"She just nipped out," Doctor Maya said, before backing up. "One second, Y/N."
She left the room momentarily, leaving me to try and remember what had happened. I was on the quinjet and was getting briefed with my team. There were casualties that we had to get to and an agent– an agent I was helping, yes!
I groaned, clutching my head when I tried to remember. Deciding I shouldn't push myself so soon, I waited until the doctor returned with Wanda. Maybe they could tell me how I ended up here. I wasn't exactly injured, at least not physically and that I knew of. My head hurt and that was about it.
The door to my room opened suddenly and I looked that way, seeing Wanda rushing in wearing her civilian clothing. The doctor followed soon after, gently closing the door behind her.
"You're awake," Wanda said with relief, stopping by my bedside. Her hand rested on mine, squeezing it comfortingly. "How are you feeling?"
I smiled upon seeing her, even if she was staring at me like I was a fragile piece of glass. We'd been dating for a while now and she always had the power to make me feel better with her presence.
"I'm alright," I promised. "Just a bit confused to what happened. The last thing I remember is going into the field. Then I woke up here."
She chewed on her lower lip, exchanging unreadable glances with the doctor.
"There was a mine that detonated near you when you were helping an injured agent," Wanda explained softly, and I opened my mouth to speak, but she quickly added, "The agent is okay before you ask. But you hit your head from the impact. Mild concussion."
"That's why your head hurts and you're having trouble remembering," the doctor said, earning my attention. "You should be feeling better soon. And I've got some medication for the pain."
Now that Wanda mentioned it, I did vaguely recall being thrown back by a blast. But remembering it was like watching a film with poor satellite, the screen fuzzing around the edges and remaining unclear even though you focused hard. I was sure it would return to me soon.
"Thanks," I said, before attempting to sit up straight. Wanda helped me as I looked to her with gratitude before paying my attention back to Doctor Maya. "Am I alright to leave?"
"Of course, yeah," she said, nodding quickly. "Feel free to come back if you have any trouble. You should be okay though."
I nodded and smiled gratefully before watching her leave. Sighing, I pushed my hair from my face and looked to Wanda who was hanging by me patiently, eyes twinkling with concern.
"I'm fine," I promised her with a knowing look.
She gave me a small smile – her way of saying I'm still worried, but I'll dial it down – then moved to the chair beside the bed and grabbed some clothes.
"You can change into this," she said about the clothes in her hand, and I was sure they were some of hers; mine must have been ruined from the mine. "And if you want, you can stay with me whilst you recover."
I raised my eyebrows as I accepted the clothes. "You sure? It's nothing serious. I can take care of myself."
She shrugged, eyes avoiding mine with embarrassment as her hands played with mine. "I wanna help. I like looking after you... plus, you've stayed at mine before. This isn't any different. And you can be closer to Doctor Maya in case anything is wrong."
I weighed the decision briefly before giving in, unable to resist how cute she was when she was worried. "Okay, yeah, sure, why not?" She smiled widely, and I added, "Any excuse to cuddle with you, right?"
She chuckled. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist."
I rolled my eyes playfully. "Just let me get ready and we can head to your room. I'm actually a little tired."
She nodded and helped me up so I could get ready. I didn't think much of the whole thing, until later that night when I fell asleep beside Wanda.
My dreams never usually meant much. I wasn't one for reading into them, nor was I one to get seriously affected by 'nightmares', knowing they were usually a concoction of bad horror films and stupid ghost stories from my childhood.
But tonight was different.
It wasn't a dream and it wasn't a nightmare, but rather a memory that couldn't exist.
There was debris everywhere, a mixture of yellow rays blinding my sight with dark shadows looming over me. Destroyed buildings and scattered bodies – none were alive – surrounded me. The heat was too much, but I had a job. I knew I had a job, but I couldn't focus because of how fast my heart was racing, beating an incessant drum in my ears, and how rigid my body felt.
"Help!" a voice was shouting. A young girl, I think – she sounded like a kid. Who was it?
Before I could make sense of anything, I heard a loud noise, like an explosion, that sounded so close yet also extremely distant. Nonetheless, my eardrums weren't spared. The mine, maybe? Was this a memory? Was this how I got hurt?
I was thrown back, head hitting a wall, but I didn't pass out. There was a figure looming over me, short, like a child's shadow, but with no visible face or features. Nothing, actually, just a dark outline staring at me though I couldn't stare back because there was nothing to stare at.
The shouts for help returned, but it was distant like the explosion. I couldn't make sense of anything, and when I closed my eyes to blink, I opened them to find debris washing over me all over again, flying in the air along with my body. It had to be the explosion, my memory returning.
This time, when I hit the wall, I woke with a start. My eyes snapped open, taking in the dark room and nightly blue hue casting over the ceiling and walls. I swallowed hard, finding my breath, and raised my hand to gently massage my forehead. An aching pain was shooting all over, forcing me to sit up as slowly as I could as to not wake up Wanda, who appeared to be fast asleep beside me.
I checked the clock beside her bed and saw it was closing on half three in the morning. I went to bed around nine, which was also when I last had my medication. Doctor Maya said I could have it every five to seven hours and when I got a severe headache.
"I guess this counts...," I mumbled to myself, before grabbing the medication and bottle of water beside the clock.
I downed the two tablets within seconds before sitting upright for a few more minutes, needing a moment to myself before attempting to get back to sleep.
"Y/N...? Are you up?"
I winced at the sound of Wanda's groggy voice, immediately feeling bad for waking her. I turned around and saw her rubbing her eyes with one hand whilst blinking away her fatigue.
"Just have a headache, don't worry," I reassured quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "You can go back to sleep."
"Do you need me to get you anything?" she asked, finally able to keep her eyes open long enough to meet my gaze with her cloudy green ones.
I smiled through my exhaustion. "I'm okay, love. I've had some medicine."
"Well, I can get you something to–" she began, trying to make a move to sit up, but I pushed her back down gently.
"I'm okay," I repeated sternly, before slipping back into bed beside her. Wrapping an arm around her torso, I said, "Get back to sleep."
She nodded tiredly, getting comfortable and pulling me closer to her. I felt her arm wrap around me as I snuggled closer, relaxing in her embrace.
"Wake me if something is wrong," she mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Goodnight. I love you."
"I love you, too," I returned, kissing the closest thing to me which was her chest. "Goodnight."
Admittedly, it was still difficult for me to fall back asleep. It must have been no longer than ten minutes when I heard Wanda's breathing and felt the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath me – she'd fallen back asleep. I sighed, slightly jealous, but stayed close to her and tried not to think about my accident or my weird dream/nightmare. Eventually, slumber found me.
The next morning, I didn't exactly feel well-rested, but I didn't want to concern Wanda nor draw attention to it as I knew it was probably just a rough first night. Instead, I let myself get distracted with Wanda wanting to cook me breakfast.
I soon found myself in the kitchen, sitting at the island and watching Wanda cook some pancakes for us both with an endearing smile on my lips. She was still in her pyjamas like me, her red hair pulled into a messy ponytail as an afterthought, and she radiated beauty. Right there, I could only wish my future looked exactly like this.
My moment of admiration was interrupted when someone came into the kitchen, earning our attention. It was Sam, one of the Avengers and a colleague of Wanda's.
"Good morning, ladies," he greeted with a smile. Already dressed for the day ahead, he asked, "Do I smell pancakes?"
"They're for Y/N, so back off," Wanda said playfully, pointing her spatula at him threateningly.
He raised his hands with defeat as I chuckled.
"Relax, I've got a shake," he said, grabbing said protein shake from the fridge. "Enjoy your pancakes." He glanced to me, expression softening as he added, "And I hope you feel better, Y/N. I heard about your accident."
"Thank you, Sam," I said gratefully, noticing the way Wanda flinched at his words. "I'm already feeling better, so..."
"That's great," he said genuinely, before looking between us. "I'll catch you guys later."
We both waved our goodbyes to him as he left. I wanted to question what was up with Wanda just then, but as Sam left the kitchen, the door slammed shut and startled me more than I thought it would. The noise sounded so familiar, so loud, kind of like what I heard last night in my dream. It must have been the mine when it exploded, a ghost of a memory that was returning. But that didn't seem right. Why didn't that seem right?
"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up, only to notice she was now standing by my side and looking down at me with concern.
I licked my lips, nodding. "Yeah, sorry, I just... yeah. I'm fine."
Her eyes were swimming with doubt, but she chose to say nothing. Instead, to my relief, she pulled me close, giving me a quick hug which I appreciated. As my head rested against her chest, I tried to ignore the familiar striking pain travelling around my forehead.
It was two nights later when another strange dream plagued my sleep. Similar to last time, there was a strange combination of scenes that I was sure I remembered and scenes that made no sense. This time though, all that I could feel was a tenseness in my whole body, like I was in a frozen state and my mind and body couldn't communicate. I couldn't move, paralysed by... fear? Shock? Disbelief? I didn't know what it was, but I woke up in the same way.
I'd heard of sleep paralysis, even experienced it a few times without realising. I think this was one of those times, with my body frozen in bed beside Wanda, but I didn't know it at the time. It just felt like a horribly-real dream. The room was dark, the familiar, yet unsettling, nightly blue hue casting shadows on the wall. But on the ceiling, bright and terrifying scenes played out before me. An explosion. Debris. Screaming.
None of it made sense and all I could feel was shock, horrified at how I couldn't move a muscle even if I tried. I tilted my head, seeing the alarm clock glowing red in the dark, letting me know it was past midnight. To the left, I saw a sleeping Wanda, lost in her dreams and unable to help me. I wanted to get up, run my hands over my face, have some water, open a window, do something. But I couldn't move. All I could do was watch the nightmare dance across the ceiling as my heart struggled to beat regularly and my lungs struggled to get enough oxygen.
I didn't know how long I was stuck like that, tears brimming my eyes and body paralysed with fear. But it finally ended and I opened my eyes, only to find the ceiling blank and myself able to move. Reluctantly, I lifted my hand, wiping the tears from my cheeks. It was just a dream (or form of sleep paralysis in hindsight). It wasn't real. But God, it felt horribly terrifying.
Admittedly, I was scared to go back to sleep for fear it would occur again. So, my eyes stayed wide awake, burning with exhaustion, and I continued to stare at the shadows on the wall, feeling my heart pounding in my ears.
I must have fallen asleep again at some point, as I woke up the next morning to Wanda getting out of bed. Sitting up in bed, I looked around and found the fear of last night wearing off now that the room was bathed in the morning light. Still, I was more shaken than I thought.
Not wanting to draw attention to it though, I let the day go on as usual, deciding to appreciate the free time I had from work to spend with Wanda. We decided to go to the park for a walk – Wanda thought it would help get me out of the Tower and I was hoping the fresh air would give me some clarity and help me to recover.
Only, it did the opposite.
We were walking hand in hand, myself listening to Wanda as she chatted about something that happened in training. If I'm being honest, I wasn't really listening; my thoughts were preoccupied with the jumbled mess that was my mind. Glimpses of memories were dancing across my head, teasing me with elements of the truth I couldn't quite make out.
My eyes drifted around mindlessly, settling on a little girl playing by the swings with her parents. I didn't think much of it, but then the familiar shouts for help from my nightmare plagued my mind, making me flinch. The dark, looming shadow returned and I suddenly felt a headache coming on, the pressure against my brain making me nauseous.
I stopped abruptly, letting go of Wanda's hand. She stopped speaking, turning around and furrowing her brows with concern.
"Hey, Y/N, what's wrong?" she asked, and I winced, clutching my head to relieve the pain.
The wave of nausea left after a moment, but the headache remained. I heard Wanda repeat my name quietly, sensing my discomfort.
"I think I need to see Doctor Maya again," I finally found my words.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, resting a hand on my cheek and tilting my head up to meet her eyes. "You can tell me."
Her eyes were reassuring, calming me in an instant. I wanted to tell her everything, but I didn't want to burden her with my anxieties, so I offered her a small smile.
"I just don't think my recovery is as straightforward as I thought," I settled. "She may be able to help."
Wanda chewed her lower lip, nodding slowly. Thankfully, she didn't question me anymore. Instead, she took me back to the Tower to see Doctor Maya. I was grateful as she waited with me for her to be free, until I had to convince her I'd be okay going in myself.
"Are you sure? I don't mind," she said, exchanging looks with Doctor Maya, who looked away quickly.
I glanced between them, mildly confused, but nodded to Wanda. "I'd rather go alone, Wanda. I'll be okay."
She nodded, squeezed my hands comfortingly, then let me go. When I headed into Doctor Maya's office, she took a seat behind her desk and motioned for me to sit before her.
"You said this was urgent," she spoke first, after I took a seat opposite. "Is everything okay?"
I licked my lips, looking down at my hand as it scratched the arm of the chair nervously. "No... not really."
After a moment of hesitation and partial embarrassment, since I knew this was only supposed to be a mild concussion that felt like so much more, I explained everything that happened to Doctor Maya. The odd dreams/nightmares, the headaches, the overlapping memories and sleep paralysis. As hard as it was to relive, I told her everything in hopes she had an answer that maybe I hadn't realised.
When I finished speaking, she looked distracted with her own thoughts. I waited patiently, watching as she nodded to herself before looking to me calmly.
"It doesn't seem like anything to worry about, truthfully," she said, which I didn't expect. "You suffered a mild concussion, yes, but it must have rattled you more than we thought. The dreams and trouble sleeping are a result of your headaches and returning memories. You do remember what happened, right?"
I nodded, though something felt incorrect. "I think so, yes. I was helping an agent when a mine went off. I was thrown back, covered in debris. Hit my head."
She hummed. "Yes... and you're taking your medication?"
Another nod. "Of course. I just want to get better. The sooner I do, the sooner I can return to work."
"Then it seems that your only opponent is stress and impatience," she said simply. "You need to relax. Keep taking your meds. Try not to worry about returning to work just yet. Focus on getting better. I can prescribe you some sleeping pills if you think that will help."
Sighing disappointedly, I nodded. I was expecting more to be honest, possibly an explanation. Her words made sense logically, but it still didn't feel right. Nonetheless, I didn't want to hold her up any longer, so I let her prescribe me some more medication before leaving. Maybe I'd give relaxing a shot.
"It's a meatball."
I stifled a laugh as I studied the oddly shaped ball of meat in Wanda's hand. "Is it?"
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "It is otherwise you're making your own meal."
I laughed, pressing a haste kiss to her cheek. "Okay, okay, it's a meatball. Add it to the tray."
We were cooking spaghetti and meatballs for dinner about six days after my incident out in the field. I was still staying with Wanda at the Tower, and I was taking Doctor Maya's advice with my recovery. I didn't worry myself with returning to work which, admittedly, helped out, and the sleeping pills knocked me out long enough to get a good sleep. Though, sometimes the nightmares would still return. I didn't think about them too much though, not wanting them to hinder my recovery. Instead, I focused on getting better with my very supportive girlfriend by my side.
Wanda added the meatball to the baking tray, alongside the others, but as she reached to form another one from the bowl full of minced meat, she accidentally knocked it to the floor. The meat splattered across the tiles, making her gasp.
"Shit," she cursed, eyes widening slightly.
"Very clever," I teased with a smile.
"Let me just–"
"I got it," I cut her off, already bending to clear it up. "Just put the tray in the oven, yeah? Try not to drop it."
"Ha-ha, very funny."
I looked up in time to see her rolling her eyes playfully, but she grabbed the tray as I said.
I kneeled down, scooping the meat up and throwing it in the bowl, knowing it would have to go in the bin now. As I did, I realised how familiar the meat looked. Pink and flesh-like, covering my hands and sticking to me. Suddenly, my hands were shaking, the fleshy bits surrounded by blood, and I tried to blink away the sight, expecting to just see minced meat, but I couldn't. They were covered in what I somehow knew was the flesh of body parts.
Startled, I fell back onto my butt, my back hitting the drawer behind me and pulling me from my daydream. Wanda looked down at me with confusion, before sensing something was wrong and leaning down beside me. She rested a hand on my head, thumb stroking my forehead.
"What's wrong?" she asked, confused eyes staring between me and my hands which were still shaking. She grabbed the tea towel from the counter above us before wiping my hands for me and holding them. "Y/N. This has happened a few times. Please tell me what happened."
I was still shaken, unsure why there was a discomfort in the pit of my stomach. I risked glancing at my hands, which were clean and no longer covered in human fle– I mean, meat.
"I don't know what's going on," I finally admitted to her, shaking my head. "It's like my thoughts aren't my own. I can't control them. I just keep seeing stuff that isn't real."
She frowned, eyes peering through mine patiently.
"I still can't remember what happened with the mine," I said, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. "It's like, I know what happened and I know it's real, but when I try to remember, it just doesn't happen quite right. The picture doesn't appear. And I don't know why."
She pressed her lips together, jaw clenching slightly. I wasn't sure what she was thinking, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine.
"What did the doctor say?" she asked lowly.
I sighed, the discomfort still lining my stomach. "She thinks I just need time."
Wanda nodded, finally lifting her gaze. "Maybe she's right."
I knitted my brows together with frustration, nudging her away and standing up. "I don't need time! I'm a doctor, too. I know it shouldn't take this long. It was a mild concussion. I've treated hundreds of those."
"Y/N–"
"Just forget it," I said with exasperation, pulling away from her as she tried to reach out again. I knew it was uncalled for, taking it out on her for no reason, but I was too frustrated with the situation to care. "I think I'm gonna go for a walk."
She sighed from behind me, running a hand through her hair. I left her in the kitchen, suddenly not in the mood to eat. Clearly all of Doctor Maya's advice wasn't working – what I was experiencing wasn't normal. I needed to see her again.
So, after cleaning my hands properly and having a walk around the Tower to clear my head (as expected, it didn't work), I headed to Doctor Maya's office, hoping she was still in work today. To my surprise, when I reached her office, I saw her door was slightly ajar and she was already speaking to someone. My intention wasn't to eavesdrop, but when I heard my name said in a hushed whisper from a familiar voice, I knew I had to stay.
"...can't say anything," Wanda finished. "She'll get better."
Doctor Maya sounded frustrated. "It's not right, Miss Maximoff. This is against everything I stand for. Against everything Y/N stands for, too, I'm sure."
"This is for her benefit," Wanda snapped, before taking a deep breath. "Look, she can't handle the truth. It'll break her... I haven't worked out the kinks, but it'll be okay. She'll get better."
What the hell were they talking about? What truth could I not handle? Wanda and the doctor were in on something together, something they didn't want me to know... and it was something to do with why I was feeling like how I was. I knew I wasn't going insane – something was wrong!
I left them to it with plans of seeing the doctor afterwards, not wanting to get caught, and tried to wrap my head around the fact that Wanda had been keeping something from me this whole time. How could she? I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but I thought that we could trust each other.
What was she hiding?
425 notes · View notes
ruershrimo · 2 years
Text
genshin impact x reader: spending time with genshin characters, but with different songs from my spotify playlist
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features noelle, bennett, sucrose, eula, kaeya (diluc was supposed to be here but I don’t know how to write him well + I don’t really like him)
warnings: very short, not proofread for sucrose’s part, bennett’s one is short I am so sorry, please help me choose different songs if I wrote them with songs that didn’t fit them, fluff (edit from sep 2023: although I don't write romantic works for characters who seem to be minors, like noelle and bennett, I won't delete them since I wrote them at a time when I was still did so. you can read the "rules before requesting" section here where I explain it a little)
notes: everyday my writing style changes, I might make an angstier version of this, remember that one post where I said I was writing something for sucrose? I made it shorter and put it here boom, my proofreader (she proofread the whole thing before I did sucrose’s part) was a lovely friend of mine who is not on tumblr
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noelle: my kind of woman (if anyone has a better song suggestion for this, please tell me, because I wrote it with the song in mind but I still feel like the writing doesn’t really match with the song.)
You had known noelle ever since the two of you were children. She had always wished to join the knights. You always viewed her as your knight in shining armour or your guardian angel who was always protecting you from children who bullied you, or her kind personality and hardworking nature. So, it was safe to assume that you were shocked when you first found out that she had failed the knights’ entrance exam.
Then, you told her to go try again, and she failed again as well. Then, she tried it again. She also failed that time.
By the time she had failed it again after five consecutive tries, it was almost impossible for her to become a knight at that point.
“I really don’t know… I keep trying, and yet I can never become a knight,” she sighed, while she confided in you, burying her tear-soaked face in her hands. “I really don’t know anymore…”
“…why won’t you be even more stubborn? The world needs more people like you, and I of all people would know that,” you paused, wrapping your arms around her. “Sure, the knights might need more maids, but you’re still noelle. You’re my noelle, who’s irreplaceable, kind, hardworking, deserves to be a knight more than anything else and has the strength, willpower and determination within herself to be able to become a true knight. I know you, and I know that you will return to face the entrance exam yet again and be stronger, until you’re strong enough to conquer it,” you spoke, hoping that this would soothe her. You hated seeing her sad, and you knew that she would be able to become a knight someday. She would always comfort you when you were little, and now it was your turn to comfort her.
Was it enough, though? You knew you had to go further in order to make her smile again.
“I…” words started to tumble out of your mouth. Words of adoration, admiration and love spilled out of you, with you accidentally declaring your love for her while trying to cheer her up. “I love you. You know, noelle, you’ve always been there for me, and you’ve always protected me from the things that hurt me. I’m sure that once you become a knight -it's a question of when, but not if…- you’ll be a brilliant one, no doubt, and the world will fall in love with you, but… I’ll be in love with you just a little more.”
Your words took her aback, as she retracted her head from you. There was red on her cheek that even she couldn’t tell whether they were from her tears or her flustered state, before she hid her face in your chest again and retreated to being in your arms.
“I love you too,” you could hear her whisper, ever so softly, to the fabric of your clothes, and she realised that she now had a new motive to become a knight, one which should have been her true reason to join them all along: you.
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bennett: hey lover
Your story of puppy love can be captured through more-than-platonic hugs, continuous trip-ups while the other is around, the warmth on each others’ cheeks when he talks to you and promises to love each other no matter what. With letters to each other which bursted with affection and fondness, to cacophonous but adorable giggles echoing throughout the places you spent time in together. It’s a story told with the simple tale of two friends realising that their relationship might be able to be taken to a different level.
Bennett knows that he is unlucky, he has always known so. However, with you around, he has a lucky charm, the one that is you. You were always his good sign, since you were always able to make him feel like his luck was getting better with you next to him anyway.
And why wouldn’t he feel that way? His whole life had been riddled with disaster and curses, but one of the only good things that stayed, was you. Just like how you never cared about his bad luck and loved him for that regardless, he would never care if you were beautiful or not, or anything of the sort. He loved you, and that was all to be said.
So although Bennett is bound to a curse that makes him a catastrophic force, the force that makes him feel lucky, even on the unluckiest of days, is you.
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sucrose: something stupid
Just like her anemo vision would suggest, she was like a breath of fresh air whenever she spoke of her passions. While she did, all you were able to do was watch her ramble on and on to you. Oh well, you didn’t mind it one bit, after all. It was wonderful to finally meet someone like her, whose view of freedom laid in their charisma and exuberance in their work.
The harmless sweetie’s saccharine antics and her presence continuously helped you push on through the beginning of your career, with her kindness and consideration always assisting you in both your life-related and work-related endeavours. With a cup of tea after a long day at work when you visited her at the crafting table, to her going out of her way to give a warming bottle to you during missions in Dragonspine (courtesy of albedo, who taught her to make said tools in the first place), to her specially brewing a concoction whenever you were sick. You tried and still try to return her love with gifts that remind you of her from different, more dangerous places in Mondstadt, to making her coffee every morning so that she starts the day well before you go off to do your work.
When you first met the green-haired bio-alchemist, you knew she was destined for large things that some people could only dream of doing and accomplishing in her field. What you did not expect, however, was for the two of you to have an unlikely friendship.
Your first meeting took place during work for the Knights of Favonius, which was where you had decided to go in order to pursue your dreams. You were only a mere recruit of the Reconnaissance Company then, who had joined in hopes of filling up a more important spot in the Knights of Favonius Reconnaissance Company.
You had been ordered by your superiors to scout the borders of Mondstadt and carry out a thorough investigation on anyone who was about to visit Mondstadt and to protect any passers by from monsters.
That was when you had met sucrose.
Right before you were about to leave your designated area, you caught a glance of a minty-haired fair lady with a somewhat shy demeanor. She had black-rimmed glasses, and the sweetest and most winsome amber irises you had ever laid your own eyes upon.
Just as you wanted to reprimand her for investigation and to warn her that there were monsters nearby, you noticed that she was wearing a knights of favonius alchemist uniform, with the knights of favonius’ signature crest on it. You then walked towards her in hopes of learning about her identity. At least that would mean that you would have a friend.
“Miss, who are you and what are you doi-…”
You felt the heat rush to your face the moment she turned at you. Why did she have to look even more beautiful up close?
However, she frantically withdrew from you and ran away at the speed of lightning, and all you could do was wonder if she was scared before attempting to find her. Had you scared her off?
Once you found her hiding behind a large rock, she introduced herself as sucrose and you spoke about yourself as well. You then proposed that you two were to head back to Mondstadt together, with you being able to protect her due to your prowess in combat and she would make special medicines for you to have if you were hurt too badly.
And the rest was history.
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eula: for once in my life
For once in her life, she had someone who didn’t hate her before knowing her. You weren’t from mondsdadt, but instead were a researcher from the nation of wisdom, sumeru. If she were to make an educated guess, being a sumerian was probably one of the reasons you knew not to judge her before truly knowing her like others did, even before she was accepted by the knights of favonius. She seemed to have also guessed that you would leave her the more she spoke of the vengeance she would exact upon you, but you could easily understand that those were just the unique jokes of hers that she used to shield herself from the insults which were hurled at her because of her bloodline. You could also understand that she used those jokes to cope with her loneliness.
You met her when you gasped, as you were hanging from a cliff, with one of your hands holding your research and the other clinging to your life. You had been attacked by several monsters, who, fortunately, you were able to beat with all of your strength, as you weren’t an experienced fighter. However, you were found by some treasure hoarders who wanted to steal what you held in your hands, but you resisted and tried to keep the research to yourself. Knowing the treasure hoarders, they most likely wanted your research in the elements for their own selfish purposes, like to enhance the potioneers’ solutions.
Suddenly, as you thought you would finally have to give in, a force struck that speedily defeated all of them in one go. There was a blue-haired woman who fought like a dancer with grace and elegance. She wielded a brutish greatsword, which was a stark contrast to her royal-like demeanour.
“Who are you?” you questioned, tentatively.
She stood in silence for a second. How did you not know her name?
“…Eula Lawrence.”
“Oh…from the Lawrence clan? I haven’t really delved that much into Mondstadt’s history, but I think I have my facts straight.”
This is where it will happen, she thought. Another person who saw her as “Lawrence” instead of eula.
“Y’know…knowing how people act after ages of tyranny from all of those history books, Mondstadt probably doesn’t treat you well, right?” you continued. You just wanted to state what you thought at that point, so you supposed that this so-called “bluntness” would be alright for her to handle. “But, you’re a hero, in my eyes, at least. You just saved my life.”
She was surprised by your statement, believing that people would always judge her for her last name instead of her given one.
“Fine, but due to your statement, I believe that when the time comes for you to face my vengeance, you will have it in a relatively less painful way, outlander,” she frowned, though you could tell that she didn’t exactly mean the “vengeance” part.
“…You know, if mondstadt ever warms up to you, do you think you’ll join the knights? I think you’d fit the position, since - y’know, you’re a hero.”
At that moment, she realised that for once in her life, she might have finally met someone who would need and love her, and that person was you.
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kaeya: just the two of us
He loves you like how he loves wine. Exquisite, unique and he could find himself being with wine at any time and still finding that it has the same charm and beauty to it everywhere. From a local tavern, to an upscale party, just like you do. You are wonderful, just like wine, and he thinks that he’s curiously delighted by the fact that you and wine are his two favourite things in his world. However, there is a difference between you and the wine he fancies. Instead of letting him run away, he has to face his past, and the very person who he is, formed by a series of masks and lies hiding unpleasant, inconvenient truths when he is with you, but he finds himself coming back to you ever so often, even visiting you more than the tavern sometimes. Because now, the truth is that he’d be willing to face those things with you by his side. Unlike wine, you accompany him in his mental perils by actually helping him, instead of assisting him in running off like a coward. Though you and wine are very similar, unlike wine, he might just love you a lot more.
“Oh, don’t you look stunning?” he smirked at you once he visited you at your home.
You rolled your eyes in response, bringing him to the sofa, just like how you always did.
“But anyways, why did you come this time?”
“Oh, shouldn’t a person be naturally inclined to visit their gorgeous lover?”
With heat rapidly flushing in your cheeks, you replied, “What was the actual reason? It’s too late for your games, and you’re lucky that you’re cute.”
“Alright,” he sighed. “It’s one of those days.”
“Oh…” you rushed to his side to check on him before giving him a long, tight hug. “Well then, spill - if you want to.”
You knew that you always had to be there for him, and you would do it again at any time. He would do the same for you, two.
After all, it was just the two of you against the world.
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jamie-leah · 3 years
Text
Traitor
Bucky x Reader
Oneshot
Summary: Everyone thinks you're a traitor but Bucky isn't convinced.
Word: 2592
Warnings: Swearing, action stuff, hints at abuse and violence at the end.
A/N: I had a half formed daydream that turned into this. Starts strong, ends weak, enjoy!
Oneshot Masterlist Series Masterlist
Steve throws your file on the desk in front of Bucky. Bucky just stares at your face on the front of the folder, pinned by a silver paper clip.
Silver was your favourite type of jewellery. Bucky remembered storing the information away for when he bought you a silver necklace for your birthday not long ago.
“I’m sorry, Buck, but we had an operative confirm everything I just told you. Y/N is a contract killer, an assassin and she was sent here to infiltrate and kill. Namely, all of us.”
Bucky hears the words coming from Steve’s mouth, but he can’t understand them. Images of you flash in his mind. You laughing at one of his lame jokes, you crying in his arms from a nightmare, you underneath him moaning his name as he kisses a trail down your neck.
Bucky shakes his head, “I don’t believe that Steve, I can’t. Who’s the source? How do you know they’re legit?”
Steve picks up a remote and points it at a screen in the room. It blinks to life on a still image of you in a restaurant, kissing the cheek of one of the most prominent mob bosses in the city and known Hydra agent.
Bucky stands so fast his chair cracks on the floor as he tears out of the office at full speed. He skips passed the elevator and takes the stairs, missing steps in his rush.
He keeps going and going until he hits the lowest level underneath the tower and storms passed all the guards. None of them challenge him, too afraid of the former Winter Soldier to get in his way.
As Bucky gets to the cells, he grabs an agent by the scruff and grinds out, “which cell?”
They all knew who he was talking about. Everyone would be talking about this for a while to come. The agent points into the open space of cells and stutters, “its, c-cell 203”.
Bucky drops the agent and stalks through the cells until he finally comes to 203. He steps into view with clenched fists and doesn’t pause before he asks, “why?”
You sit on the edge of the cot, elbows on knees, staring at the grey wall opposite. It takes you a moment to build up the courage to look at him. You never intended for this to happen. You never wanted to get feelings involved, but as you look at Bucky, you know it’s far too late for that now. Now you have a mess on your hands.
You debate how to play this. Do you keep up the contract killer façade or do you confess, tell him everything you’ve ever wanted to tell another human being before?
“Barnes, I should have known you would pay me a visit sooner rather than later.”
Bucky felt like you had struck him in the face with the way you addressed him, but he holds firm, “why?”
“Why what? I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific”, you reply coolly as you stand to face him.
Bucky changes his question, “is it true? Are you a contract killer?”
It takes you a few moments to keep the mask in place, “yes”.
You watch the pain flash across his features for the briefest of moments before he locks it away to be felt in private. It breaks your heart, but you’re so used to the feeling it never shows on your face.
Bucky goes to turn from you, wanting to get away, the sight of you too much to bear. You throw a question out into the void between you before he can retreat, “are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”
Bucky never turns back to look at you, but he whispers, “was any of it ever real?”
Despite knowing this was the question, despite hearing it from a few people across your lifetime, it was the first time it ever hit you in the gut with such force you had to take a silent gulp of air before choking out, “no”.
He leaves without another word.
You wait a few days. Working out the routine of the place before you wait for your next move.
You wait with your back to a small portion of the concrete wall next to the cell door. A blind spot. And when the guard brings your food and slides it under the metal bars, he looks up to find you missing.
Just as he steps closer to look, you strike. You shoot your arms between the bars and pull so hard his head bangs into the metal and he crumples, out cold.
You drag is body parallel to the door and you sweep his body for keys. You start to lose hope when your hand flits over cool metal and a little jingle rings out.
You wait fifteen minutes until lights out and the use the keys. You drag the guard into the cell, swapping your uniforms before closing the door and locking him in. You check all your hair is tucked until the cap before heading for the locked door between freedom and your prison.
You rap on the metal with your heart beating furiously against your ribcage. But the door opens without a problem and you have to stop yourself from sprinting down the hall and up the stairwell.
Once you make it up one flight of stairs with no alarms raised you start to sprint. Before you leave, you have to make it back to your room for your go bag. You can’t leave it when it has all the information you need for what started this all off.
You run and run and run. You run until your lungs burn with a fire that’s been flowing in your veins since you were born. You run until your legs scream at you to stop and just when you don’t think you can take any more flights of stairs, you make it to the top.
You stop. Your hand on the handle, taking a moment to get your breathing under control. You push the handle down slowly and open the door a crack to find the hallway in darkness.
You slip through and creep on the tiles without a sound as you make it to the first spare room in the hall.
You get into the room no problem and let out a breath when you realise no one knows you used this room to stash your information.
You waste no time in grabbing your go back from the closet, checking everything you need is in there before heading for the door again. Three steps from the exit and alarms scream out, waking everyone from their slumber. The alarm is followed by a female robotic voice, “alert, alert, prisoner escape. Alert, alert, prisoner escape.”
You swear under your breath as you rush out the door to see Bucky, Natasha and Sam at the end of the hall, near the stairway. Your only exit.
They spot you seconds after you spot them, and you take off running in the opposite direction. You can’t afford a hand to hand with all three of them. As confident as you are in your abilities they have just as much, and you don’t want to hurt them.
They shout in your direction, but you ignore them as you unzip your bag and rummage around for a miracle. You get to the living space when you finally feel it and a flimsy plan comes to mind.
You turn, gun in both hands as you drop the go bag. Bucky, Natasha and Sam all creep into the room, guns pointed in your direction as yours is in theirs.
“There’s nowhere else to go now, Y/N,” Sam says in his calm way.
You hold firm, the sofas keeping the four of you apart. You look in Bucky’s direction as you talk, “things are more complicated than they seem. And I’m sorry you were caught up in it. I’m not a good person and I’ll get what I deserve, but I have something I need to do first.”
“And what’s that? Kills us?”, Nat asks.
You shake your head, still looking at Bucky, “If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it three times over. You’re not my mission.”
“Then give yourself up and explain.” Sam tries to reason.
You lower your gun slowly, “it would take too long, and you may never believe me. I can’t afford that, and I’ll never get a chance like this again.”
Bucky remains silent throughout the whole exchange, but you study each other the entire time. You try to convey that you lied earlier before reaching up your arm with lightning speed.
Two shots and the chandelier that Stark insisted on installing for the living room crashes in front of the three as you turn and shoot the glass window. As the glass spiderwebs, you drop the gun and run at full speed. You have a moment to acknowledge that throwing yourself from the top of the tower is the dumbest move you’ve ever made as the air rushes to greet you.
You twist with a hand in your pocket and throw upwards, watching and praying for your miracle to work as the rope and hook catches and you plummet.
You fall down the building on the rope watching the ground and unclip at the last second, rolling with the momentum as the impact jars through your bones.
Bucky couldn’t believe you threw yourself out the window. He was the first to recover, leaping over the lights and the sofa to dive head first after you. He digs his metal hand into the concrete and slides down after you.
He sees you roll and run immediately like the pro that you are and wastes no time pursuing you.
You dart between traffic and glance behind to see him behind you. You growl in frustration at the stubborn solider, having to change your plans once again as you head for the roads.
You instinctively feel Bucky gaining on you with the serum pumping through his veins so when you spot a cargo truck coming on the road below. You don’t hesitate to jump off the road you’re on and slam into the truck underneath.
Your lungs scream for the third time that night as all the air leaves them, but you pay no attention as you look up to find Bucky staring after you.
You walk in the quiet of the night, looking down at the folded piece of paper. You check you have the right address when the empty warehouse finally comes into view. You slip in without any problems and head over to the machine where you stashed more stuff.
Just as you go to reach for the bag you hear the click of a gun. You freeze. You turn slowly, with your hands visible and find yourself staring into the face of Bucky and the barrel of his gun.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes and sigh, “how did you find me?”
“Please, do you really think I don’t know you after all this time? After our talk in the cells, I checked all the spare rooms. Found your go bag and the addresses. This was the closest one to the tower”, Bucky replies with an easy shrug.
You nod your head, “but if you found them, why did you leave them there? Why didn’t you tell anyone else?”.
“Tell me what’s going on, Y/N”, Bucky dodges the question.
You knew there was no other way out of this now. You had to tell him if you ever had a hope of getting this done tonight.
“Look, can you put the gun down-“
“Not until you tell me what’s going on. I can’t trust you.”
You pretend like his words don’t hurt, though they’re warranted, “okay, okay. Look, most of it is true. I am a contract killer. Long story short, I was born into a mob family. Mum died giving birth to me and left me and my older sister with my piece of shit father, the “use you as an ashtray type father”. At least he did with my sister. She took the brunt of his shit…anyway, when I turned 13 and had my first period, he sold me to a man. That man? Was the mob boss I know you saw me with, Joe Selene. I’ll skip passed all the torture and right to the part where he trained me as a contract killer for him and bided my time. My father had gone underground and with my limited access to resources I couldn’t find him.”
Bucky lowers the gun as you go through your story, his features softening at your tale of tragedy.
“I swore to my sister that I would come for her but I needed to gain the trust of Selene so I could get the resources to find my father. That was when he got involved with Hydra and they asked him to take you out. I agreed, knowing that you would have all the resources I needed to find my father and my sister.”
Bucky shakes his head, “why didn’t you tell me, us, any of this? We could have helped you.”
You look away from him, “because about a week after I got to the tower, I read my sisters name in the obituary. All the people I had killed to get to my sister was for nothing. She died alone, waiting for a rescue that never came and I knew…I knew that I was going to kill that bastard for everything that happened. I also knew that none of you would let me. You would reason about justice and doing things the right way. But I know what’s right and that’s that bastard six feet under and in hell.”
You look back up at Bucky to find him already watching you. You square your shoulders and jut your chin as you say, “so, you’re either with me or against me and so help me God, if you try to stop me from leaving this building and killing that piece of shit, I will not hesitate to put you down. I told you that you’re not my mission, but I will damn make sure nothing gets in the way.”
Bucky nods, “I’m in.”
You turn back to your bag and pull out the knives to strap around your body. You hand a few to Bucky and he takes them without a word.
As he turns to head back out of the warehouse you throw the question out again, “are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”
Bucky turns to look at you this time. He captures your eyes with his as he stares into your soul and whispers, “was any of it real?”
You reply without hesitation, “yes. Every single word.”
Bucky takes a few long strides before grabbing your face with his hands and crashing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. You return with the same ferocity, gripping his shirt in your fists to try and bring his body closer to yours.
When you can no longer breathe, you break the kiss. You both pant as Bucky brings his forehead down to meet yours. He whispers, “after we go drop a few bodies, what do you say we go take a trip. Just you and me?”
265 notes · View notes
maibi · 3 years
Text
Consideration
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Gojo Satoru x reader
Summary: A joke you played on Gojo kinda backfired. But was it really backfire or something you didn’t mind happening.. ;)
A/N: this turned out longer than I had expected. ANYWAYS I enjoyed writing this one ngl:)
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Gojo was by far one of the most annoying people you have met, but sadly at the same time he is one of your closest friends. He’d always joke around and never really took anything serious. You would be training the 2nd years on the field and he would just be playing around with his first year students. You didn’t mind that he went easy on the first years, but he just left all the extra hard work over to you once they were in their second year. Which naturally made him more annoying to you. For a 28 year old he sure doesn't act his age. 
“What if you just went on a date with me?”, Gojo said as you were walking to your room, the one you stayed in at school. It was a much cheaper solution, so you didn’t mind it much. Plus you got to spend more time with your students and... other colleagues.
“What about no?”, you said as you stopped in front of your door. 
“AAAAH SENSEI THAT HURTS”, Gojo said as he clutched his heart over dramatically. 
“I’m not your sensei”, you answered back at him.
“I mean you could be”, he answered with a wink.
“How about no”, you said as you opened your door. “I am just your colleague.”
“Did I really just get colleague-zoned?”, he said as he wiped away a fake tear making you roll your eyes.
He was always like this. He’d joke around about liking you and didn't’ even conceal the fact about wanting to be in a relationship. But it had been like this since forever and you were so adapted to all the rejecting you did, that it always happened naturally now. He’d go “I like you a lot so let’s go on a date” and you would just shut him down in various ways. 
Of course there were times he’d make you blush or make your heart beat a little faster than normally, but you never really took his words into consideration. For example a certain situation that made your heart beat faster:
“Not gonna lie, You look really stunning this evening”, he said as he accompanied you on an evening party between all the teachers from Tokyo and Kyoto Jujustu High. 
He had reached out his hand for you to take because that was the kind of guy he was. He didn’t care about how he presented himself in public, so looking like his partner or not was not one of his concerns. So you just didn’t see a problem with it and took his hand as he locked both of your arms.
“Why thank you sir Satoru”, you said as you played along with him. “Though I have to say it feels a little too tight.”
“I think it accentuates your body perfectly”, he said with a wink. “Shall we go inside?”, he said back as your face was probably flushed red. With a nod the both of you went inside the building. 
It had been a peaceful night until a man wouldn’t stop bothering you. He was probably a teacher from Kyoto High so you didn’t want to sound rude, but you really did not enjoy the way he was bothering you. 
To your luck, Gojo had been watching the whole scene and couldn’t hold his chill. He walked up to you and linked your arms again. “I will be walking this person outside, if you have no business left with them you can gladly leave”, he said with a serious expression, boring a whole in the man’s face with his look. 
He pulled you with him to the exit and you just went along. “Maybe we should tell the rest that we’re leaving”, you hesitantly said. 
“It’s alright I'll let someone know we left”, he said.
“Not to be rude, but if we leave so abruptly together they might think wrongly...” You didn’t want to finish that sentence because he’d either act hurt and make jokes out of it or he’d be actually hurt and try not to show it.
You heard him sigh. “I’ll tell them you felt sick and that I sent you with a taxi. Don’t worry about it”, he said in a low voice. 
You weren’t gonna lie that that moment had made your heart beat faster, but you couldn’t tell him that. It felt weird to admit that to a person you have been rejecting for over years now. It’s not like you would feel like this constantly, so you didn’t mind it much. But little did you know... It wasn’t just a temporary feeling.
“You should check on your students, they’re still outside in the rain because of your punishment”, you said snapping back to reality. 
“Ah that’s alright, I gave Megumi the lead. He made sure all three of em went inside before it started raining. All so that I could have some alone time with you", he winked again.
“Then why are only Nobara and Yuuji outside?”, you asked as you pointed at your window. They weren’t, but you just wanted him to shut up and leave, so that was your solution. 
His eyes widened and he just sprinted in the directions of the stairs. He took it very serious when his students got sick, because he needed all of the time he got to teach his students. You always made fun of his way of teaching, but in the end the students always turned out to be strong. You didn’t ever really admit is, but he was a good teacher and in some way you looked up to him. Though that piece of information was not for him to know. He had a dream, and his students were helping him achieve it.
“Ooooh y/n sensei, you didn’t sleep yet?” It was Itadori who came walking in your direction. “I was looking for Gojo sensei, but I can’t find him anywhere.”
“Oh I sent him outside to look for you guys, because I told him Megumi left you and Nobara outside in the rain”, you said.
He looked visibly confused and looked his own body up and down. “But I'm right here?”
“Exactly”, you said as you winked and pointed a finger gun at him. 
His eyes widened and he started laughing. “Sensei that’s so cruel!”
“I have to do what I have to do in order for him to leave me alone sometimes”, you said with a sigh.
“Is Gojo sensei that bad towards you then?”, Yuuji asked.
“Ah Yuuji you’re making me seem like the bad guy here. But no, he actually isn’t all that bad. But he just doesn’t know about the word private space sometimes”, you said reassuring the teenager. 
“oh no I didn’t want to make you feel bad about your words”, he worriedly said as he shook his head. “I just know how Fushiguro gets annoyed easily, so I thought it might have been the same for you. Oh Gojo sensei!”
You turned your head to the side and saw Gojo walking in your direction as Itadori waved frantically, but it faded more and more as Gojo walked closer. He was completely drenched and he held his eye mask in his hands. He looked pissed, or more annoyed. 
“Yuuji could you leave me alone with y/n sensei”, he said not looking up.
“y/n sensei is this alright”, Yuuji whispered.
“It’s alright Yuuji, don’t worry about it. Just make sure you don’t stay around here, okey?”, you said with a smile and a nod to reassure him.
“Okey”, he said with a worried expression as he left anyways. 
You waited till You didn’t see Itadori anymore. You walked inside your room and Gojo just walked right in after you. You didn’t have the time to close the door as he just pinned you against it, making the push close the door. You were taken aback and Gojo just stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression at all. 
“Listen, I play and joke around a lot I know. But making me worry about my students’ health isn’t one of the things I can joke around with”, he said.
“What is it Gojo, did I push the wrong button?”, you said back, not giving a sign of being intimidated by him. 
“Don’t go playing all big and mighty now”, he said in an almost whisper, inching closer to your face.
Your heart was beating in your chest, but you didn’t give in. “What are you gonna do about it?”, you said also inching closer, leaving almost no space between your faces.
That was his sign. That was all he needed as confirmation so he just held you neck and pulled you in, closing the space that was left between the two of you. you synced with his movements and he barely gave you a moment to breath.
He pulled back and looked you straight in the eyes. “I’m not joking around with you, I'm serious. I am ready to give you my all, I hope you realized that by now. I know you feel the same way and I'll give you as much time as you need. But don’t make me waste my time. So if you want me just tell me and I'll give you all the space you need after that”, he said with no hint of sarcasm. 
“Who said I wanted space?”, you said with a smug smile. “Why would i want space when I can take you right now Gojo Satoru”, you said in a whisper with a smug smile. 
He liked that side of you. That playful side of you that appears once in a while. It turned him on, it made him imagine things he shouldn’t and you knew you had that impact on him. Because in the end he never showed any effort in concealing his true feelings so figuring him out wasn’t as hard as you sometimes thought it would. 
He smiled back at you and raised his eyebrows. “Guess chasing after you was really worth it huh?”
You pulled him back in for a kiss and this one was more passionate than the other. You pulled him closer, you deepened the kiss and he did everything in his power to not squish you against the door. Your hand moved to his damp hair and you tugged at it lightly. He moved his head to your ear and trailed down kisses to your shoulder. 
His hand moved to the lock of the door and you heard it click. You turned your head slightly that you had a good view on his face. He was smirking and you rolled your eyes at him in a playful way.
“Let’s see how good you keep your word when saying you can take me right now”, he said.
“I can’t back down now, can I”, you smugly answered.
With a breathy laugh he brought his face back to yours. “where were we”, he said in a whisper.
“Here”, you said and you pulled him back in for a kiss. 
It was quite obvious from the start that you and Gojo would end up like this. You couldn’t deny your feelings forever and Gojo was one hell of a pain in the ass to keep on reminding you that you had no escape from him. Not that you wanted that. But like said before, he didn’t need to know that piece of information. Some things were better left off not said, because in the end Gojo Satoru is one hell of a cocky person, but that was one thing you adored so much about him. And let’s not forget, you were in love with him and there was no denying that either. 
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killshot anon! YEAH i totally agree w/ your view on kaeya. it's so weird to me that people will blame him for his role in a situation he was forced into as a child through no choice of his own. that itself had to be traumatic, not to mention everything that happened later. i hate when people say he's untrustworthy - like yeah, he's lied, so has everyone? it's clear he does it mostly to protect himself. not to mention that (& sadism) can be symptoms of trauma. kaeya deserves nothing but happiness
take a seat folks it’s time for a “brynn should’ve been an english major” lesson! today we’re gonna learn some literary theory; specifically, we’re gonna apply psychoanalytical trauma theory to kaeya’s backstory and current character. killshot anon i bet you never thought this would result in a whole ass essay.
disclaimer one! you are allowed to dislike kaeya! i am not saying you need to like him or his character, you’re entitled to your opinion and i’m not here to change your mind.
disclaimer two! i am in no way an expert and this is all for fun! this is just my silly little analysis of one of my favorite characters as someone who’s studied literary theory and rhetoric and can also apply personal experience. seriously analysis is like a hobby to me and this is just an excuse for me to ramble about kaeya.
disclaimer three! this contains lots of spoilers! basically for everything we know in-game, general knowledge as well as stuff from his voicelines and character story. don’t read this if you don’t want spoilers.
since this is going to be filled with spoilers and is about to get really long, everything will be under a cut. for those who wanna read my dumb super informal essay: enjoy!
final note: yeah this is over 2000 words long can you tell i like analysis
let’s start by getting a quick rundown of trauma theory out of the way. to begin, what is “trauma?” in this case, trauma is going to refer to an experience that greatly affects and changes one’s life; attitudes, memories, behaviors, mental state, etc. while not all changes may be bad, per se, the overall effect of trauma is generally a negative one, which is why it’s so significant. literary trauma theory, then, explores these changes and the impact of trauma in literature. it analyzes the psychological and social effects of trauma, explaining what those effects are and why they happen. in the context of a specific character, trauma theory breaks down said character’s behaviors, feelings, and general mentality in relation to their past experiences; trauma theory hopes to explain to others the reasons for why a character may act or feel the way they do, all based upon the character’s experiences, particularly traumatic ones. our character today is the lovely kaeya alberich, with the “literature” being genshin impact. i’ll be referencing kaeya’s wiki page to ensure i get all details correct for his character story and voicelines.
it would be good to review kaeya’s backstory before delving into the actual analysis. though we don’t know much about his life before living in mondstadt, we’re told he was sent as an agent of khaenri’ah. and by “sent,” i mean his biological father abandoned him in a completely unfamiliar land to serve khaenri’ah’s interests and fullfil his mission—what this entirely entails hasn’t been revealed. mondstadt, however, welcomed kaeya “with open arms when they found him.” crepus ragnvindr took him in as his adopted son, with diluc as his adopted brother. kaeya and diluc were “almost like twins,” so close they “[knew] each other’s thoughts and intentions without a word.” he’d began a new life in mondstadt, one surrounded by friends and family that loved him; one that was completely shattered by crepus’s death. kaeya arrived at the scene of the disaster, and was led to believe diluc was the one who killed their father to “set his father free” from the effects of his delusion. there’d always been one big question in kaeya’s life: if it came down to it, who would he support? the nation that abandoned him, but he still felt loyal to, or the nation and family that took him in and really loved him? overrun with guilt, kaeya confessed his purpose to diluc, sparking a fight between the two brothers. in this fight, kaeya receives his cryo vision. though both brothers stepped away alive, they’ve never been able to make peace with one another. now, kaeya is the eccentric and charming cavalry captain of the knights of favonius; a man who gets his way by using any means necessary, regardless of whether or not it seems right.
kaeya’s not evil; he’s morally ambiguous, and that stems from what appears to be a general distrust of others. his life is one shrouded in secrecy. from the moment he stepped foot into mondstadt, he was surrounded by secrets. even now, he doesn’t talk about a lot of things, namely his past, vision, and feelings. though he’s always willing to get information out of others, kaeya never reveals anything about himself. he repeatedly tells the player they can confide in him, but whenever you try and pry into his life, he deflects your questions with some sort of witty comment or flirty remark. anything he does reveal is vague, or spoken in some sort of “code.” for example, his “interesting things” voiceline. he tells us about the owl of dragonspine, how it “seems to look right through you, while letting go of none of its own secrets,” and then tacks on a “quite fascinating, don’t you think?” it seems like an awfully accurate parallel to himself; kaeya does all he can to get information from others, but never gives anything about himself. now, this whole thing—his relationship with diluc falling apart and his need for secrecy—could have probably been avoided if he had just come clean about his mission years ago. so why didn’t he? to start, kaeya was a literal child. not only are children unable to properly tell the difference between right and wrong, but they’ll also typically follow their parents’ orders blindly. kaeya had just been abandoned, and he wouldn’t want to risk being cast out by mondstadt as well if he came clean right away. you see, there’s this thing about trauma, something that trauma theory states. traumatized people feel a sort of shame or guilt regarding their traumatic experience; they’ll keep quiet because they don’t want to cause problems or bother others with their issues. of course kaeya wouldn’t tell the truth about his past, he doesn’t want to destroy the genuinely loving relationships he’d built in mondstadt. his fight with diluc only proves what he was afraid of: if he’s honest, he’ll be abandoned again. and if kaeya’s used to all the lies, why should he bother changing?
another thing, if he’s not going to tell the truth, then why would he have initially gone along with his father’s plans? again, he was a child. he really had no choice, and was forced into a very wrong and cruel situation. there’s a good explanation for this, too, which is also stated in trauma theory; traumatized people will still do their best to please their abusers. especially if said abuser is a parent, that will drive traumatized people to work even harder to please them. although his father hurt him by ruthlessly abandoning him, kaeya still sought to make him and his homeland proud. he was willing to be used as a tool for their gain; that is, until he found people who actually cared about him. he was an impressionable child, of course he’s going to obey orders. but as he gets older, he feels torn. does he serve those who abandoned him, or those that took him in? his father—and arguably, khaenri’ah as a whole—hurt him, sure, but he still feels some loyalty and connection to his former home. instead of revealing anything, he lets the situation play out. that way, he can’t be blamed when things fall apart.
the thing about claiming he’s untrustworthy is that hardly anyone in-game believes that. he’s adored by the older folks in mondstadt, and foes and allies alike find him easy to talk to. despite seeming lazy and uninterested in work, kaeya takes his job very seriously. in fact, his story states that crepus’s death was the “first and only time kaeya failed in his duty.” the “only time” is especially important, because it signifies kaeya still fulfills his duties successfully. he’s had a total of one slip-up, and hasn’t failed since. no, kaeya is not untrustworthy. rather, kaeya finds everyone else untrustworthy. it’s not unlikely that this is a direct consequence of being abandoned as a child. although it’s been established that kaeya and diluc were very close as children, when crepus dies, kaeya assumes diluc is the one that killed him. in order to jump to such an extreme conclusion against someone he was so close to, there had to be some underlying sense of distrust. furthermore, kaeya expresses feeling as though he doesn’t belong anywhere. he was abandoned by khaenri’ah, and then worried he wouldn’t be accepted by mondstadt. he is, but there’s still that worry. if you place him in your teapot as a companion, he tells you that your home feels like someplace he belongs, following it up with a “heh, who’d have thought…” kaeya still feels as though he doesn’t belong in mondstadt; despite the fact that he’s a high-ranking knight of favonius and rather popular, he still feels like an outsider. he doesn’t trust that anyone actually wants him around, and he finds joy in testing peoples’ trustworthiness. it’s noted in his story and through his voicelines that the beloved cavalry captain has a rather sadistic nature. he likes putting people into difficult situations, to see what decisions they will make. he does this to both opponents and allies, testing to see who’s going to back out and who’ll keep fighting; in the sake of allies, who can he trust? or who will turn tail and abandon their teammates at the slightest hint of danger? i mentioned it previously, but kaeya doesn’t care what measures he has to take so long as his job gets done and he gets the answers he wants. it’s a sort of self-preserving mindset, putting himself above the safety of others. kaeya’s trying to protect himself, which makes sense with all he’s been through. he doesn’t want to be hurt, and instead finds pleasure in threatening harm upon others. it’s twisted, sure, but it’s because he can only trust himself in a world that he believes is out to get him. he’s got as many enemies—if not more—as he does allies; of course kaeya focuses on protecting himself first, whether physically or through keeping his secrets, well, secret.
his most obvious traumatic effect is definitely his alcoholism. but he uses it as a distraction, not just to wallow in self-pity. this is seen again in his story, particularly in story 3. it’s found that when his favorite drink, death after noon, is out of season, mondstadt’s crime rate is decreased drastically. at face value, this just means kaeya spends more time working when death after noon is low in supply. but kaeya doesn’t skip work to go to taverns; it’s already been established he takes his job very seriously, so this means he actually patrols and tracks down threats while off work when he can’t indulge in his favorite alcoholic drink. he doesn’t get drunk simply because he’s depressed. if he did, there wouldn’t be a drop in incidents when death after noon is out of season. no, kaeya uses both the alcohol and fighting to distract himself. after all, it’s a little hard to think about feeling sad when you’re either drunk out of your mind or fighting for your life.
despite being so secretive, kaeya gives us glimpses of his true emotions from time to time. as previously mentioned, his flirty attitude is nothing more than a mask to hide how he really feels; and kaeya is terribly, terribly lonely. that may be why he seems so extroverted. constantly being around people should, logically, drive away that feeling, but it doesn’t work like that. when he talks with the player, he frequently expresses disappointment when you have to leave. each time, though, he dampens the weight of his words with playful or flirty language. he’s lonely, but doesn’t want you to know that, like he’s afraid of asking you to stay. he takes the seriousness of his feelings, and basically bends it into some sort of lighthearted joke. kaeya hides his true feelings—negative feelings, to be exact—so that he doesn’t bother anyone. which is, again, something that happens with traumatized people. he displays that hesitance to reveal his true feelings, because there’s a shame or guilt that comes with his past. he doesn’t want to bother others or hold them back, so he puts on a smile and amps up the charisma. one other very important thing—but very small detail—i would like to note is his feelings toward family. his fell apart not even once, but twice, and kaeya still holds familial relationships in high regard. we know he doesn’t exactly care how he goes about getting his work done. he doesn’t pay attention to what’s “right” or “wrong,” so long as he gets what he needs. but one of his informants, vile, notes that the cavalry captain has one exception: he won’t work with those who threaten others’ families. in fact, kaeya claims those who do should be hunted down and destroyed. even though his own families have caused him so much pain—and he ended up estranged from both—he still understands the importance of having people who love you in your life. because he didn’t get that.
kaeya’s not evil. ultimately, as a knight of favonius, his goal is to protect others, because no one was there to protect him. and because no one was there to protect him, because he’s been hurt time and time again by people who were supposed to love him, kaeya has taken to protecting himself. he hides any and all negative feelings with a charismatic, friendly façade, because he thinks it’ll drive away his persistent loneliness. any “bad” actions of his were hardly his fault; he was forced into a life of secrecy and lies, and then abandoned by the first people who truly loved him. kaeya’s a multi-faceted, tragic character, one that toes the line between good and evil, and that’s what makes him so interesting.
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staplernpaper · 2 years
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JJK Compatibility Reading
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This compatibility reading is for this event: TAROT COMPATIBILITY READING EVENT
All readings are for entertainment purposes only. Please do not obsess over the results of the reading as at the end of the day free will is a thing
Selamat Malam
Sorry for uploading the reading so late, first I was very busy with school then eid happened and now I'm knee-deep in Genshin Impact. Also, I wanna know your thoughts on tipping; I want to start opening up tips but I'm not sure if I should use Paypal or Kofi.
Terima Kasih,
Before delving into what relationship FNA and Megumi will have, I thought it would be a good idea to see how they view each other
How Megumi see you
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Card 1-Ace of Swords
Card 2- Queen of Pentacle
Card 3- The Heirophant
Interpretation :
I think he sees you as someone who is constantly providing and caring for others. Your kindness may have stemmed from traditional values whether it be culture, religion, family tradition or spiritual reason. I think you continue to be doting not just because of those traditional values but because it is natural to you or is it an instinctual thing. I also see you going to great lengths in order to help those you care about and even to strangers. Megumi not only sees you for your tenderness but for your beliefs, sharp mind and determination.
How FNA see Megumi
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Card 4- Four of Swords (rev)
Card 5- Knight of pentacles (rev)
Card 6- Temperance
Interpretation:
I could be wrong with how you see him, but you most likely see him as exhausted and burnt out. But even though he works himself too hard, there still is some balance, even in his sleep-deprived state his still a responsible young man. I think you may be attracted to him because of this. I don't know how to say this, but he's basically a tired puppy and you're just aching to care for him. I feel like you may be the type who is eager to take care of others. Let me emphasize that you most probably like the idea of caring for him, it's not like the 'I can fix him' BS.
Your Relationship
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row 1- page of pentacles, death, the world (rev)
While the relationship's foundation is solid and there is some chemistry, it somehow finds itself in a stagnant phase. I think the cause for this is because it's a major change for the two of you. Maybe the two of you may have previously been friends and trying to transition to lovers may be a bit weird. Or while befriending someone like Megumi is normal for you, dating someone like him is a first. So the relationship will be a bit rocky, especially in the beginning, but eventually, that rockiness will pass.
Row 2- eight of swords, temperance, magician
Hmm... there is a lot of energy and effort being put into this relationship. I think this relationship has the potential to reach a much deeper level where you can expect a much stronger commitment. But I do think you'd have to be very careful before you reach that deeper level, cause the amount of effort that you're putting in could be mistaken for clinginess or smothering. Megumi may feel a bit overwhelmed. But don't worry, I think the two of you would be able to come together and set up some boundaries. There's a lot of communication between the two of you, so neither of you would be afraid to tell the other that what they are doing is too much or crossing the line.
Row 3- The Empress rev, The Strength, The judgment rev
I'm gonna be quite frank, I don't 100% understand what this row means. I think there is a mother figure in your life or Megumi's life that probably won't like the relationship and would most probably influence others into thinking that this relationship isn't good for either of you. Or you lack a certain amount of feminity and for some reason, people wouldn't be happy about that. Either way, I think the two of you would be able to go on strong. And quite honestly while the public's word/opinion still may hurt, I think at that point the two of you would have already overcome any doubts in the relationship. Thus the two of you are quite confident the relationship will work out and quite honestly it would be hard to tear you two apart.
Row 4- Three of pentacles, king of wands, knight of cups
Please be prepared to be constantly swept off your feet, cause my good is this relationship romantic. A lot of the romantic gestures I see are more on the bold type, like things I thought I would only see in movies tye of shit. Examples are rain-soaked proposals, impromptu picnic dates, kabedon!!! Now I do think these romantic gestures definitely took time some time to learn and with the help of someone else (if you look a 3 of Pent there's a third person involved, lol Gojo most probably forced Megumi to watch a bunch of romance movies). So don't expect these types of gestures on the first date. Also, I think these romantic gestures aren't just Megumi or you doing it. I think the two of you are very equally romantic and find different ways to show just how much you love your partner.
Conclusion:
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THIS COUPLE IS VERY CUTE!!!
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maximoffsworlds · 3 years
Text
Not while I’m around
Summary: When a thunderstorm rolls into town, Wanda comes to the rescue.
Pairing: Wanda x Reader
Warnings: None, just fluff.
A/N: this is the first piece of Wanda fic I’ve written that I’ve been brave enough to publish 🥺 I hope you like it. Also, if anyone else can tell me how to cut this into a link to shorten your pages, please do 😂
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You had only been dating for two months when Wanda had come to your apartment, knocking on the door before twisting the handle to let herself in. You had told her early on into your relationship that she was always free to let herself in and you loved that she felt comfortable enough with you to do just that.
“Y/N? I brought dinner,” she calls out, closing the door behind her with a smile, kicking off her shoes. To her dismay, there was no sign of you in the living room, nor in the kitchen of your open plan apartment.
You’d yet to meet the rest of the Avengers. You knew of their reputation, and although you’d been scared to admit it to Wanda when you had first gotten together, you had told her one early morning as you lay with your head on her chest while the sun rose that you were intimidated by them. What if they didn’t like you? What if they didn’t think you were good enough for Wanda? What if they felt the need to abolish you from her life in one way or another.
Of course, she had reassured you that there was no way that would happen: that they were her friends and they’d love you - and she had put you at ease, you’d both agreed to wait just a little longer. Besides, it meant that there was still time for Wanda to keep you for herself - and she loved that too.
Setting the bags of takeout down on the kitchen counter, a frown creasing her forehead as she turns around, wondering where you had gotten to. She had texted you to tell you that she was bringing food, and although you had read it, you hadn’t replied. But the read receipt told her that you knew she was coming over.
“Y/N? Are you home?” She calls out, this time heading towards your bedroom. The door was open and your bedside table was on, casting light and shadows simultaneously against the magnolia walls of your rental property.
It had gotten dark outside early as a storm had rolled in across the city. Rain pelted against the windows while the wind howled, and it had been storming for the past hour or so. “I’m sorry I’m a little later than I said I’d be. Traffic was crazy out. You’d think it was the end of the world, and not a little storm,” she chuckles to herself, before turning out of the bedroom and glancing at the bathroom.
Again, the door was slightly ajar, but all the lights were off. Instinct should have told Wanda that there’s no use checking the bathroom, and yet, she found herself pushing the door open.
Her eyebrows raise as she switches on the light, her eyes landing on you, curled up in the tub.
“Honey, why are you in an empty tub in the dark?” She asks, crouching down at the side of the bathtub with a concerned expression upon her face. “Are you okay?”
You didn’t have to answer verbally. A roll of thunder growled across the night sky, followed by a flash of lightening. Your whole body jumped, causing you to hit your head on the side of the tap. If you weren’t trembling before the impact, you were now.
“Are you scared of storms?” Wanda asks, immediately reaching forward to rest her hand against the side of your head.
Shame washes over your body. You’re way too old to be cowering at the weather. Mentally, you know this. But you can’t help the fear that has you trapped within its vice-like grip.
“I’m not scared, I just-“ you began, before being interrupted by another roll of thunder.
Before you even had a chance to say another word, Wanda had risen to her feet, scooping you up and into her arms, carrying you bridal-style into the living room, where she had set you down on the couch.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, y/n. All fears are valid, and you can always tell me what and how you are feeling. There’s no shame in that,” she says, shaking her head. “Give me five minutes and I will be right back,” she says with a smile, before shrugging off the long cardigan she had chosen to wear. Delicately wrapping it around your shoulders, she places a kiss to your forehead. “There, it’s like a hug from me. It’ll keep you safe until I’m done,” she says, before scurrying off to your bedroom.
Wanda isn’t gone for too long - maybe ten minutes or so, when she comes back to you on the sofa where she finds you pulling the cardigan tightly across your chest. Your knees are brought up to your chest and your forehead rests upon them while you tried to drown out the sounds of the storm outside.
There was no way Wanda was going to explain to you that lightening can travel through plumbing during a storm - and that was why she had lifted you out of the tub. Instead, she taps your shoulder gently and takes your hand, leading you back to the bedroom.
You stayed close to Wanda as she walked before you, your body huddled close to your girlfriend and your grip holding her hand tightly, squeezing it every time you heard another roll of thunder.
It’s absolutely stupid for a grown adult to be afraid of a storm. She’s going to think I’m an idiot.
“I’m not going to think you’re an idiot,” Wanda tells you with a smirk, turning to look at you as your eyes widen. You still hadn’t gotten quite used to the fact that she could read minds - and you often forgot it too.
She kisses the tip of your nose and smiles, before leaning to kiss your lips softly. “You’re adorable. And I’m going to show you that there’s nothing to be afraid of,” she tells you, before she pushes open your bedroom door.
Inside the room, your bedroom looks almost unrecognisable. Sheets and linens had been draped from the ceiling to both walls. Your bed faced the windows in the room, and your bed had been lined with a cacophony of pillows.
Wanda had built you a fort.
Not only was it a fort, it was a fort adorned with fairy lights and the Chinese take out she knew you loved from that place a few blocks away.
“Come on, y/n. Climb in,” she says, releasing your hand only to climb onto the bed, patting the space besides her until you quickly followed. The scent of her perfume on the cardigan she had given you earlier had already helped to relax you, but there was truly no better feeling than of Wanda’s arms circling you protectively.
From where you both lay, you had a great view of the city. It may not be dark outside because night had fallen, but the storm had brought its own darkness in early. “Nothing is ever going to hurt you, y/n. Not while I’m around,” she tells you, allowing you to nestle your head into the crook of her neck. When she feels you flinch with another roll of thunder, she chuckles to herself. “We can watch the storm together and you’ll see,” she tells you.
“You’re laughing at me,” you say, a little timidly. This was the reason you never told anyone about your fear of thunder and lightening. This was was a fear that is traditionally rooted in children under the age of ten, and you had passed that marker decades ago.
“No, baby. I’m not laughing at you,” Wanda promises, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Her hand smooths it’s way up and down your back gently as she watches the storm outside.
“I’m laughing because of the circumstances. You know of Thor, right?” She asks, looking down at you, and watching as you nod your head quietly. “Well…he’s known as the God of thunder. Well, his name means Thunder. Legend has it that lightning was created by him using his Mjolnir - or so I’ve been told,” Wanda explains.
Lifting your head curiously, you raise an eyebrow towards the redhead. “So you’re telling me that all of this is caused by Thor having a tantrum?”
“Well, technically thunderstorms are caused by the atmosphere being unstable - when warm air exists underneath colder air,” Wanda begins to explain, stopping only when she sees you frowning.
“I think I prefer the idea of Thor having a temper tantrum,” you admit, setting your head back down on her shoulder before wrapping your arm around Wanda’s waist.
Her fingers play with the ends of your hair as she hums a soft melody for a moment with a smile on her face as she relishes the comfort of you snuggling up to her.
“If you prefer, you can always tell our children that Uncle Thor is having a tantrum if they’re scared of storms,” she muses quietly, bringing a smile to your face.
Wanda wants a family with you.
And you want a family with her.
And in years to come, whenever there is a thunderstorm, you’re no longer afraid. Not when you’re cuddling your wife and three children beneath a blanket fort in the middle of your living room.
Suddenly, storms aren’t that scary anymore.
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