#i mean an actual survival situation is very tempting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andsoigotabutterfly · 2 years ago

Text

Liberation

gf!tara x gf!fem!reader

a.n.: this is my first ever fic, so please make sure to share your thoughts about it...

warnings: blood, mentions of past trauma, slight schizophrenia, murder, mentions of hot scenes, harsh language

English isn't my first language, but I did my best!

word count: 5.1k

Some people say it’s a miracle you are alive. Some say you are cursed, and a threat to the community. Some say that some unworldly power helped you get through your life until now. You agreed with the last one. Nobody in the world knew how you survived your childhood. Except for you.

When you were three years old, you were involved in a car crash, in which both of you parents were inpaled on a tree and died. After that, at the age of five, your godfather, was shot down by the police, because they thought he is going to shoot them first. Of course, you were in the back seat when this happened, and you only survived, because you ducked away from behind your new guard. The orphanage you’ve been put in, burnt down around you, when you were eight.

The „Voice”, you called it. The second part of you, which nobody knew of. The part of you, that you hid from everything and everyone. It was the saviour of you. It was the one, who told you to put your back against you fathers’ seat, before the car crashed, so you would survive the tree that pierced through the front window. It was the one, who told you to duck, just before the gun was fired. It was the one, who told you to hug the ground and crawl to the back door of the building, so you wouldn’t suffocate from the smoke, and so you wouldn’t be trapped inside the building, once the support beam that held the ceiling crashed down. It forced you out of situations, without letting you warn others of the danger. It felt like there was a psychopath on you, who was ready for mayhem and destruction.

And it was the one, who tried to influence all your actions. It spoke to you; it tempted you and it bothered you. Only when in danger, did you listen to it. It was full of envy and hatred. It didn’t want you to make friends or go to activities. It tried to manipulate you and cut you away from those, who you loved and or cared about you. Whenever you tried to talk to it, it was like it didn’t hear you, or just didn’t bother to answer neither your questions nor your accusations.

Other then it being a pain in the ass when it came to the public, it was actually very tolerable when you were home at your aunt’s place. It stayed silent, mostly ever talking when you were trying to choose a movie or a book to read. You’ve had similar tastes and quickly found that the favourite movie series for you both, were the Stab movies. The only place where you could speak to it was in front of the mirror. You’ve rarely done it because it felt weird to speak to your reflection, that didn’t even mimic you. Anyone who would come in would see nothing, except for you talking to your own reflection. After you’ve made this discovery, it was there EVERYWHERE. Any time you would go to the toilet, there it was looking back at you from the mirror with a horrific grin on your mouth. Every time you looked onto the water’s surface it was there, mocking you. You were terrified of it and thus, yourself.

Then, at the end of primary school, when you went home, you’ve had enough. From it. It has teased you with murder before, but now it was meaning it.

“Kill the bitch! Run your knife through her and see what her insides look like! I guess that would be a sight worth seeing!”

You ignored its words. You knew it wouldn’t hear you until you were face to face with it. You barged in the bathroom and unleashed your fury at it on the dirty mirror.

“Shut up!” you screamed.

“If she won’t be ours, she won’t be anybody’s!” it lashed out.

“You want to kill her because she said no to me?!” you asked in disbelief, shame running through you as you remembered back at what happened.

“Of course! Turn the canal’s water red with her blood!”

“I don’t want to hurt her! I won’t hurt anyone!”

“It would be so liberating!” your reflection was feral. The grin on your mouth was mixed with the terrifying sight of absolute madness in your eyes. You needed to convince yourself, that you weren’t seeing your own face. You were feeling the effect it had on you. You were losing control of yourself.

“Get out of my head!”

“I won’t go anywhere! I will help you slice that bitch up and then get on with everybody else, who has hurt you. Think of the kids that bullied you in the orphanage. Now picture their bodies…”

“SHUT UP!” you were yelling at this point. You didn’t care if the neighbours heard you. You wanted it out. It was getting to you. The images that it said, were flashing through your mind, and to say they weren’t nice would’ve been a lie. You gripped the corner of the sink so hard, your fingers hurt and turned white.

“It would fill the hole in your soul. Let go! It would make you whole!”

Your vision went black. You couldn’t see anything but it, with a huge grin on your own mouth. You couldn’t think straight. You wouldn’t give up either though. In a last, desperate attempt, you crashed the mirror with your bare hands as you screamed your lungs out. It hurt like hell. Blood was dripping down your hand. But at that moment, you felt victorious and at peace. When you looked at your reflection through the cracks, you saw yourself. A laugh escaped your lips, as you smiled at yourself. You touched your face, like it’s the first time you saw it. The blood you left on it was now running down your cheeks, but you didn’t mind. It was nowhere to be found. You finally got rid of it.

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

High school was calm and peaceful. From the moment you set foot in there, you were famous. Almost everybody knew your name, knew what shit you've been through. Most of the people left you alone, or tried to keep distance for the first half semester, like you were rotten meat. Except for a small group of people, whom you quickly became friends with.

After the school got used to your presence, the bullies started to present themselves. Not afraid of you anymore, they started picking on you, for even the smallest detail. To say that they made your time there miserable would be an understatement. You still finished your first year on a good note. Your aunt and you have become close and you finally had some friends with whom you would meet with during the summer.

The next year started off, as the last closed. At the first day the others already left because they got less hours than you. This was when the bullies showed up. Your impulsiveness led you to a fight with them. Two of their group ended up in the infirmary with bruises and stiches, and you in the principal's office, with a warning. When your aunt picked you up, she was angry but the moment you were in the car, her face lightened up and asked you all about the fight. At first you were confused, but then started to talk about what happened with more and more enthusiasm. She listened to every last detail you told her, with pride on her face.

"Next time, maybe don't hold back." She said with a wide grin.

"There won't be a next time, for a long time if I assume right." You answered.

At night, you all gathered at Tara's place. When they saw your black eye, and the stich on your cheek, their jaws dropped. Then, you were hit with a wave of questions on your well being, the state of the "other guy" and whom the fight happened with. You told the story all over again, with a bit more detail than you actually remembered. As you were talking Chad encouragingly patted your shoulders, and commented on your technique, like he was some kind of professional. Tara's face lit up when you got to the part where you got your scars. You didn't take it as something important until after the party, in your bed thinking about her. Realization hit you, that you like her. The way she moved around, the way she made everyone laugh and that she always was nice. Oh, you liked her very much.

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

That night, in your dream, it came back. You were standing in front of each other. It spoke to you, but you didn't listen. Even if you tried to take in what it was saying, you couldn't understand it. Then it took out Ghostfaces' mask from behind it's back, and placed it on its head. As it approached you, you froze down. Couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't talk. When it reached you, it tilted its head, and you woke up. You tried to calm down, as your thoughts were racing. It was back. Was it back? 'Please. Somebody save me' you thought.

The next weeks were normal. You haven't heard its voice, or felt its influence. As the days were passing, you shook it of like it was a nightmare, even though you were most certain, that it wasn't one.

Just as you thought, the bullies didn't come back for a long time. During the 'Time of Peace', as you called it you managed to get to know your friends more, especially Tara. It was like having a new family. You guys would always go to one's house to hold small get-togethers and parties. Everybody was nice and smooth, but your eyes were always set on her.

You two got together really well. You both liked horror movies, and would go on to watch them all together. Like yours, her favourite movie series was Stab too. One time around the end of the year, you managed to prank call her, and she quickly got into the game. You left your voice changer at home, so you tried your best at hiding your own voice, failing miserably. You sneaked in through the back door and got into her house. As she was heading into the kitchen, you jumped her. She did definitely not expect you to be in her house.

She gripped you tightly as she calmed down quickly. Her touch made you have goosebumps. You never saw her scared, and were proud of yourself. She looked cute.

"Fuck!" she breathed out finally. "Y/N!"

"At your service."

"What are you doing here?!"

"Well, the plan was to sneak in, scare your gorgeous ass. Then maybe, just maybe, watch something together" you admitted. "First half worked out pretty well if I dare say so myself."

"Okay than Mrs. jumpscare. Take your shoes off. I just finished cleaning. After that, we may discuss having movie night." She looked at you through her smile. After a second, she watched you curiously and raised an elbow. That’s when it hit you how close you were. She was still in your arms so you quickly let go and did as you were told. You were trying your best to hide your blush but the way she looked at you made it pretty clear, that it didn't work.

You settled down on her couch, patiently waiting for her to make the popcorn. When she got to the living room, you slowly pulled out an ancient dvd holder of your bag. You shot her a grin as you saw her mouth drop.

"No fuckin' way where did you get this?!" she shouted in excitement. She took the holder out of your hand and started analysing it. It was the original Stab movie's director's cut.

"Did a little digging in the attic." You shrugged.

"You're kidding me."

"Indeed I am. I needed to pay off the guy in the dvd renter so that he lets me to the backside of his place. I found this piece of art there."

She bit her lips in excitement as she looked at you, her beautiful eyes full of wonder. You nodded to her, so she would open it and place the dvd in the player. As it started playing, she sat beside you. Too close, for your body not to act up. You could only hope that the couch didn't vibrate from your heartbeat.

Even though you have already seen the scenes that were cut from the film on the internet, you eagerly waited for every one of them. When one would come up, you sat straighter. Yet, you couldn't pay attention to them because every time you sat up, Tara grabbed your hand, like she was afraid you would go away.

This made it impossible for you to look at the television. Your vision was filled with her, the way the lights reflected back from her beautiful eyes, the way her smile could melt any matter on the world and the way she looked up at you time to time. This was one of those moments. Your eyes met and you felt like you could gaze into hers for the rest of your life. Her eyes went to your lips, then back again. You did the same, whilst leaning just a tiny bit closer to her. She was the one to close the distance. You felt in heaven as your lips crashed together, the salty taste filling your every sense. Your eyes shut close as you pulled her into you. She was addicting, and would be the death of you. Somehow that idea just made her even more appealing. She separated herself from you, to take in a quick breath, then she was back onto you, her jaws biting your bottom lip ferociously.

She pulled away again, worry in her eyes from her own action. You already missed her presence on your lips. You chased after her kissing her the same way she did you. You sank onto her, grabbing her thighs as you pushed her down to the couch. You can't tell how much time you spent there, just making out. The only thing that stopped you was a sudden scream. You quickly looked up not really understanding where it came from. Her giggles made you realize, that it came from the movie. It was as if the outer world completely disappeared to you. The film was about to end, and the real stabbing began in it.

"Do you know how long you've kept me waiting for this?" you asked her, when your senses became clear again. You still couldn't believe what just happened.

"I actually do." she said with a smirk. "You aren't really good at hiding your feelings dear."

"Yes. I get that a lot."

She smiled at you, somehow being even more gorgeous than before, than snuggled up to your side, to finish the movie. You put a hand around her and played with her hair, as you finally calmed down. After the film, the two of you would have a long night ahead of you.

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

From that point, you two were always found together. She didn't want to hide you, which made you even more confident. Days, weeks and months passed but nothing made you feel as complete as her. Well, almost complete. You still didn't feel quite right, but you couldn't put your finger around it.

As your third year began, you both found some new activities for yourselves. You signed up for drum classes, and she to a new art group. You knew she loved to draw, and this only made her already good style into something that you could only describe as "high art". One day, you went to her place only to find it empty. As you killed time, you found one of her old sketchbooks. Your eyes widened, when you realized more than half of them were you. Wait, were you really that beautiful in her eyes? When she got home, you couldn't stop teasing her with it, as you also complimented her work.

"Stop it!"

"Only if you draw me right now, so that I can see how well my gorgeous can draw!" you said with a wide grin.

She blushed at the comment. With a bit more of your nagging, she finally gave in. As she drew you, she started speaking about her peers at the art group. She kept mentioning a boy named Kent, whom she really got close with. A hint of jealousy hit your stomach as you listened to her.

"He helped me improve my line work." She was always rambling about something when she was focusing. It's one of the things you loved about her. Whenever she was cooking, which she was also a goddess at, she would always talk about her day, or something that was on her mind. "He is also the best student of his class."

"Well, he sounds like a nerd."

Tara's hand stopped and her mouth dropped open a little. "Is someone jealous?"

"No…" you huffed out immediately.

"Riiiiiight." she teased and returned to drawing.

In minutes, you already hated this Kent. Tara rented about him for a few more minutes, only because she loved your reaction. You hated every minute of it. Anger coiling in you, eating you up from the inside. A really familiar feeling, but you couldn't quite remember when you've felt like this. Then it hit you. Just a moment later, it, also hit you.

"You know what to do…"

You froze down in shock. Terror showed on your face, and Tara immediately stopped, watching you worriedly. 'No, no, no, no… It can't… Why…' you felt like your mind stopped working. Everything felt cold and hot at the same time, your clothes too tight, you couldn't breathe. Tara stepped to you, saying something, but you couldn't hear it. Then she gripped your shoulders and shook you up a bit.

"Look at me!" she spoke, her words finally hitting your ear. "Y/N!" you obliged. "What's the matter? It was just a joke. Nothing serious…" she hugged you softly.

"N- No it wasn't that…"

"Then what was it?"

You couldn't tell her. You wanted to run away, to curl up in a corner and hide the world from yourself. Her eyes wouldn't let you. So you did the second best thing that came to your mind. You lied.

"La- lately I have started having panic attacks. They are tied to what happened with me in my childhood." 'Idiot!' you thought.

"Mhm, how can I help?"

"This does…" you said eyeing her closeness. She held you even tighter now, calming you down.

You don't know how long you've been standing in her arms, but after a while you slowly pulled away to kiss her. "How's the drawing going?"

She smiled at you. "Ready for you to judge babe." she said, taking her sketchbook from the couch, showing you the newly drawn masterpiece. You were truly amazed by it.

"I can't decide why it looks so good. Because it is about me, or because you were the one to draw it." you teased.

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

The next days were torture. It came back indefinitely. It overtook your image in your reflections once again. It spoke to you in the most inconvenient of times. It tried to influence you again. And it fuelled your hatred of Kent.

You always saw him around Tara, either you were, or weren't with her. He was like a little puppy, eagerly following her around. He definitely had a crush on her. This made you mad and insecure. It was like there was a knife, twisting in your stomach. The Voice only made it worse. Somehow it succeeded at making you not think of Kent as a human, but as a threat. As a predator, who was circling around something, that was yours. This made your nights restless and your days infuriating.

"We need to keep her safe." it spoke to you, as you were drying your hair.

"I need to keep her safe, yes. Stop using the royal we please."

"There is not one, without the other. I am a part of you and you can't even fuckin' deny it."

"I can, and I do. Can I dry my hair now?"

"I see your dreams as well as you do. I know you've been dreaming about it. Let us cut him up!"

You didn't answer him.

"Oh, it would be a site to see. The bloodied mess of his open stomach. I bet his screams would be just as beautiful as your dreams show. What sweet nightmare we can bring to life if we pay him a visit! Picture Tara! See as he touches her, as he holds her!" you couldn't cut the pictures out of your head. You were furious, full of hatred and jealousy. It took your thoughts over. No. You took your own thoughts over. "Now picture him dead."

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

That night you put on the mask. You didn't need to go far for it, as it was tucked away in your closet. The robes and the knife too. Originally you only wanted to buy a fake knife, but to your aunt's advice, you bought a real one. What a great decision that was.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your reflection didn't behave differently from you. You pulled the mask down, and smiled at yourself. It was you all along.

You started the engine of your aunts' car. She was away on a business trip, and left the car for your use at home. You couldn't be more thankful for her, that she thought you how to drive at summer. Kent was living at the other half of Woodsboro, and you didn't want unwilling eyes to see you.

You stopped two blocks away from his house. You put your mask on, and taped the voice changer to your neck. You got out of the car and quickly made your way to the backyard of his house. Light shined out of the building. Only one shutter wasn't pulled down, and it was on the second floor of the house. 'Fuckin' prick too. Oh this really will be fun!'

You pulled your phone out and rang the number of the houses' line phone. While still at home, you searched it out of the phone book, your aunt was still keeping at home. It rang for a while, before someone finally picked it up.

"Hello?" you heard his voice from the line, uncertain.

"Hello there Kent." you said, voice changer turned on.

"Who am I speaking to?"

You chuckled. "Soon, you'll discover. Tell me! Would you like to play a game?"

He didn't answer right away, as if he was talking to someone. Were his parents not out of town? "Well, I'm kind of in the middle of one, so I would say no…"

You looked in through a small gap at one of the shutters. "I think this game is more fun than Monopoly…" you said with a grin under your mask.

"How do you know what we're playing?"

"Don't you know not to ask this question?" oh, he was clueless. Sweet sweet ignorance.

Now, a familiar voice came to the phone. "Hello sweet prank caller! Could you please let my friend go now? He needs to step in my hotel!"

You recognized her. What was Tara doing here? Your mind went through the possible causes, then you remembered. She invited you too for game night, but you backed out of the offer. 'Fuck. Well, can't back off now can I?'

"No I cannot Tara Carpenter. I have some unfinished business with the gentleman."

You saw the shock that settled on her face through the gap. It didn't please you even in the least amount. Then she looked up at Kent and cut the line. Both of them are going to start searching for you know. The others already left. Mindy and Chad left with Liv, because she needed her private time with Chad, and Mindy didn't have a car of her own. Wes had a tight deadline to head home because of her mother. Amber called sick for the week. The only ones staying the longest were always you and Tara. You didn't know about Kents' friends, but you didn't see more people than two.

You climbed up at the eaves of the house to the window, where your only entrance lied. You opened it with your knife, and climbed in without a sound. You called again.

"So, I bet you are dying to hang on the line now!"

"You talked about a game… If I play, you leave us alone… Right?"

Obviously Tara wasn't near him. She would have given him such a smack, that his screams would've echoed up the stairs. Oh what wouldn't you give to hear that sound.

"Precisely! Now you are getting it. I ask, you answer. A wrong answer means five more stabs! Do I have your undivided attention?"

You heard his gulp through the phone. "Yes."

"What's your favourite scary movie?"

"There is no good answer to this!"

"Wrong… You are living in Woodsboro. There can only be one good answer. Stab. But since this would be an unfair game, I will give you some fair questions, so you have a chance." You played with your knife in hand, waiting for his response.

"Okay…"

"Tell me Kent. What were you and Tara talking about when you took her hand, and drag her to class?"

"How…"

"I think at this point you really should know better than to ask back boy."

Little pause. "We were talking about her girlfriend. I was saying she was too possessive of her and she started a fight with me.

"Very good! Two more questions to go." you said as you sneaked down the stairs. "I'm going to make this harder for you. Who is the man behind the mask in the original Stab?"

"Lemme think!"

"Tick tack Kent!" you said after ten seconds. "If you don't answer, Tara might be in trouble. And you wouldn't dare risk her pretty shirt getting all bloody would you now?

"If you dare touch her!"

"I would be more interested in your wellbeing at the moment, if I were you. Answer!"

"I- I don't know!"

"Wroooong again… You disappoint me young man. I know for a fact Tara has told you about this, since she tells everyone about them. The right answer is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher." you were in the living room now, sanding not far and behind him. "Last question, and this better be right! Do you think, I could have made it into your house, through the window that was wide open on your second floor?"

His head shot back, fear in his eyes. It was more beautiful then you ever imagined. You theatrically hung up the phone, then waved at him with the knife.

"TARA RUN!" He yelled out, as he too, started to run towards the front door. You took your time chasing him. Before you called first, you barricaded the front door. Nobody could leave that way.

He was banging on the door terror in his eyes as you walked slowly closer. "What's your answer Kenty boy?"

"Fuck you!"

"I'm afraid that I can't take that as the right answer…" you said tsking, then you started running at him hand and knife raised. He tried to duck away, but you predicted it and ran your blade through his side. It felt so good! The warmth of his blood that soaked your hand, the scream of pain he let out. It was liberating. "One!" you shivered out, euphoria taking over your body.

You pulled the knife out of his stomach, then kicked him to the ground. He desperately tried to defend himself, failing miserably in it. As you climbed him, he hit your ribs, and tried to pull of your mask. Each attempt he made, you rewarded it with a stab. His blood spilled on your mask, bloodying it. You couldn't contain the laugh that escaped your mouth. You counted the stabs, making sure to reach the target. Blood spilled from his mouth as he writhed under you. Your own blood was pumping in your ear, making you numb. You almost didn't hear the scream that echoed through the house. Your head snapped back up, searching for its source. Even though you didn't want to believe it, you would have recognized that voice from anywhere. Tara was in trouble.

You stood up, kicking his now lifeless body in the process. Then marched your way to where you heard her. As you entered the kitchen, you froze down from confusion. Tara was on the ground, sticking a kitchen knife in someone's neck, whom you saw with Kent two times before. 'So there was a third wheel…' You watched as she took the life of the boy, only looking up at you after she was done, smile on her face. That bloodied smile made you melt. This was a completely new side of her, that you never saw before. The insanity in her eyes was burning, her perfect white teeth shown to you.

"What took you so long?" she asked still smiling, getting closer to you.

"What do you mean?" you asked back. Your voice changer didn't work anymore. Kent probably ruined it.

When she reached you, she took your mask of and kissed you immediately, all softness gone from her. She bit your tongue and pulled you into her smaller body. You were so turned on from her, and you knew she felt it.

"You mean, you wanted me to get to him?" you asked, as you pulled away for a moment.

"We both wanted you to get to him. Our first night together, remember? The Voice in you, overtook you, and made me feel better than ever." she said, as she started undressing you, pulling you upstairs. "Afterwards, we talked freely. You told me everything about your past, so I told you everything too. I told you, how I feel my anger build up until I can't control it. I told you about my first victim, and you devoured me for it! So in return, I decided to help free yourself." she took half a step back looking at you with wild, heart eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too." you said instantly. As her lips crashed on yours, you could only think about you being finally complete. Complete with her, complete with yourself. You picked her up, and carried her upstairs. You dropped her onto the bed, and climbed after her. You were finally free. She liberated you, and you would dedicate your whole life to showing her how grateful you were for that.

#tara x reader #scream fanfic #scream #jenna ortega #fanfiction #my stuff #ghostface!tara #ghostface!reader #tara carpenter x reader #ghostface!taracarpenter #first fanfic

642 notes · View notes

oh-no-its-bird · 1 month ago

Text

Ok so trying to find my old alien stage x starwars crossover post bc someone asked to see it, but tumblr is acting up again and wont fucking let me find it, BUT I have it saved in my notesapp where I originally wrote it (get fucked tumblr) so were just gonna repost it here!

So yeah, no real context needed Alien Stage x Starwars crossover ft. Till bc he is my favorite.

(this was all written around round 5's release, if I remember correctly)

All I'm saying is that if Palpatine tried that "yes, strike me down, embrace the darkness, let it consume you . . ." shit on Till, Till would go *fuck you old man I'll take that bet* and beat him to death w no regrets then probably write a song about it later

Is your crush since childhood (presumed) dead?? Your childhood friend / rival of sorts confessed his love for you with a desperate, (unwanted) kiss then died at your feet to make sure you survived????

New therapy idea just dropped: beating an old man to death !! Reviews are in and they say it's HIGHLY effective !!!

Who would be funniest for Till to bludgeon to death w a guitar actually? Maul or Ventress are the most likley for him to not only just find out in the wild but in a situation where he can both actually interact w him without getting shot instantly by like, guards nearby and also be, yk, motivated to take that shot by them committing obvious crimes he may take issue with

Palpatine is the most obviously funny one and would solve a lot of problems.

I feel like Dooku would be the out of pocket one actually, a lot of fics leave him either alive or vuagley off screen when it comes to fucking shit up in clone wars era.

I want people to recognize Till actually. I want alien stage to be a morbid fascination for a good portion of the galaxy, maybe the usual do gooders like jedi can't interfere bc its technically legal in the specific corner of the galaxy its hosted in. Something something politics something something the senate doesn't want them to interfere idk. Its in the outer rim I don't think they touch things there all too much anyways

Anyways: Till beats Count Dooku to death with a guitar on live holo and the very first immediate reaction for a chunk of the galaxy is just. Is that. The pop star? I. Is that that one alien stage death game pop star???

Like imagine if you were just some guy living ur life and a pretty ugly looking war is looming overhead but you're doing your best to keep your head down, stay safe, all that. And then you go on twitter and everyone is posting videos of Hannah Montana beating Vladamir Putin to death live on stage with her microphone

And you're like "what the actual fuck" and your friend is like "does this mean the war is off now" and you don't KNOW but damn if all these new Hannah Montana edits everyone is dropping don't go hard as fuck

Till and Anakin would either get along concerningly well or fucking despise eachither. Like it's on sight.

Pick your poison! Is this fics obligatory "small silly reason why Anakin is too busy to be tempted into child murder by Palpatine";

A) he's an alien stage enthusiast and cant miss out on its live streams to meet w the old man sorry Palpatine

Or B) he's too busy programming little droids to start screaming every time Till opens his mouth to speak

"I don't know if Till would actually kill someone " / "Ok but Till is like just a dude. Not even a particularly strong or skilled one. He wouldn't last 2 seconds against a sith or literally anyone with actual training to fight."

Ok counter argument: it'd be funny. Now get back in the basement. I'm trying to cheer on my favorite space pop king as he beats an old man to death

fun scene where he sits in a cantina somewhere, clutching a drink as his own voice and Ivan's play over the radio as they sing Cure. His heart beating faster and faster in his ears till it hits the part where Ivan died and he just hunches in on himself, like if he curls tight enough he can shield the voices from reaching his ears.

He's so fucking depressed and visibly out of it in all the recent videos, I feel like he needs to find something to respark that rage. (Obligator *fuck I can't wait for Luka to try and get a rise out of him in the next round) maybe in this fic that spark is committing violence against the evil elderly who knows

Mmmmm Till sleep walking through the refugee camp, his eyes downcast and shoulders slumped and defeated as he blends in with the crowds of people who've escaped their own situations. Nothing special to see here, nothing special at all. His force presence is quiet and weighed down, hardly even visible if you aren't looking.

He's dissosiating like 80% of the time and that's what let's him get the jump on Dooku, who's probably there to poke at Obi-Wan and was NOT expecting the guitar to the back of his head.

Instant kill !!!! The clones are all pointing making pog faces everyone cheers the galaxy is saved etc. Etc.

#birds fic talk #this is an extra stupid one but still has a special place in my heart #alnst #alnst till #till #alien stage #starwars #star wars

21 notes · View notes

wsancho · 4 months ago

Text

Rambling about Setzer’s “recovery” from depression

Thanks to @ci-ah and @halogenwarrior for the interesting Setzer convos. Now I have theories.

I had dipped my toes a little bit in Setzer territory because I wish he was given more screen time and development. I believe FFVI is masterfully written (not perfectly written, but what it does well is simply outstanding, with very little to pick apart), so I’m more tempted to find the meaning of what the game gives us, than to look down on it as “coulda-woulda-shoulda been better if blank”. There’s always room for improvement (in everything), but I just want to make sense of what is 😌 And my shtick at this point is to pull theories out of my ass, so...

We get very little information about Setzer, and the more I think about it, the more it feels that this is by design more than neglect. We meet him and he joins us (because why the hell not?), then the world goes to shit. Next thing we know is that he’s been drinking his life away, so we ask him to join us and he does (again, because why the hell not?). He is quite easy to sway, but recovering from his depression after one pep talk makes the whole situation feel unnecessary. If he is nothing but the means to an end, then why bother giving him that little character moment? So I'm gonna assume that he is more than just that. This is not the “miraculous” resolution of his inner conflict, it’s a clue to his character.

Another awfully convenient thing about Setzer in World of Ruin is that we find him at Kolingen, of all places. But he has no known connection to that place or its people. Is this pub convenient for some reason? Maybe he was nearby after the cataclysm, maybe they got cheap alcohol, maybe this is the only pub that still allows him in… But the game gives us nothing to come up with those types of speculations. This town happens to be the closest to the new airship Daryl’s tomb. This is another clue, but we don’t yet know that Daryl is dear to him. As it turns out, Setzer is the type of character that can only be fully understood in retrospective after having obtained all the bits of information. It takes obsession repetition.

He’s a particularly difficult one because we only know his deliberately crafted persona, not much about him is concrete. If I were to take his reaction as is, I gotta assume that he’s not recovered, he’s just being Setzer; and from the moment we first met him, he’s never been well. He still isn’t.

I believe he was there because he meant to pay Daryl a visit, but he never gathered the courage to do it (he tells us he couldn’t even stand looking at The Falcon after having it restored); and by the way he’s been going about life in the past year, he doesn’t have any kind of resolve to do anything, let alone face the ghost of his friend.

I do not believe he would want to talk at a grave as if he were talking to his lost friend; and I also don’t believe he had any plans to fly again. My take is that he spent that year courting death, thinking about making his final resting place right next to Daryl. The whole “crawl into a hole and die” thing is not as easy as it sounds: decay will drive you mad before actually killing you, to the point that it’ll make you want to live. Setzer wants out, but couldn't bring himself to actually do it (this takes determination and focus). He keeps on, but he's not at the point where life itself would kick him out of his mental state (this happens when survival is uncertain, at which point depression wouldn't even factor in).

When we find him wallowing in his misery he’s understandably reluctant to join the party, but out of nowhere he is reinvigorated and makes a proposal that involves going to that elusive place where he really wants to be. He has not recovered, he livens up because now he’s got the encouragement he needed to make his way out. His friends will get the wings they need, and he will get his own set of real ones. Everyone wins… But then one thing lead to another: he was talking about things he couldn’t even mention before, and he found himself on the deck of The Falcon showing his friends the way, and then the ship took off and his friends were on a mission feeling hopeful once again... And his ass didn’t stay behind like he had planned 😒 D’oh!

In my mind he simply got carried away by the enthusiasm his friends showed, and wanted to make sure they had what they needed. He’s a bigger mess than he was before, but he’s efficient in sweeping shit under the rug and keep going through the motions. I think his inner conflict remains there when visiting the tomb, but would have to be addressed at some point (offscreen) because he's a time bomb. From a character perspective his quick reaction gave me enough to ramble says something about him: it doubles down on his recklessness and on his ability to pull through for others. His anguish is real but his apathy is fake ❤️

#ffvi #ff6 #final fantasy 6 #final fantasy vi #setzer gabbiani #headcanon #fan theories

22 notes · View notes

princess-of-the-corner · 7 months ago

Note

Was musing on the "Aware of Abuse" AU for the Sad Rich Kids Trio and ho it influences their behavior, or how their perspective has shifted, from least to most detailed:

Adrien: He is not overtly super different, in canon he was already expressing frustration with his father and ducking out from under his control to do what he wanted.

The main shift is rooted in his perspective. Namely that if his father does love him (Doubt) then his love is so toxic Adrien wants no part of it. He deems any concession Gabriel makes suspicious at best and deems any lingering affection on his own part as a childish thing he needs to outgrow.

Beyond that he's simply more blunt, he doesn't make excuses for his father and is a bit more aware of how the other kids parenting sucks. This ironically may actually make it harder for he & Marinette as she'd struggle to see what was wrong early on and presume him kind of a brat or rude for disrespecting his father so much.

Kagami: As one might expect given how heavily controlling and authoritive Tomoe is, Kagami has very little wiggle room to openly defy her or act differently without risking being trapped or extremely harsh punishment,

As a result the shift is more in subtle things and how she communicates and views the relationship. Namely, she does not love her mother and only pays lip service to respecting anything other than her material skills as a combatant. She also feels that given what her mother does to her is largely indistinguishable from hatred (The physical nature of sparring sessions & training are deeply unpleasant) that Tomoe's feelings don't matter.

Thus she's more overt around others in her disregard for her mother and already prone to trying to sneak off or undercut her. She has burner phones and secret social media accounts for example. In this regard she likely does not become Riposte.

Instead her emotions would be mostly fear of her mothers reaction & anger at the situation and what this costs her in general. Thus she likely turns into something intent on seeking her mother out and attacking her, or otherwise trying to force her mother into her shoes. I had a name for this I think, Aku-Gami? Anyway its basically a signal flare to Adrien & Chloe of "One of us! One of us! One of us!"

Chloe: Like with Adrien her shift would be fairly recent. Mostly in response to the clusterfuck handling of Adrien after Emilie's disappearance & her parents being their worst selves about it. She was on her last thread from keeping Adrien's head above water then being booted and so she explodes at her mother over the phone & rejects her father out of anything but necessity. After which she doubles down because she can't un-dig this hole but she can sure as fuck make it big enough to engulf them all.

Put simply, Chloe's ingrained "Fight" mentality has now been turned on her parents in full. She'd still struggle to articulate most of the things they did wrong, or why they were wrong. But she is angry, rebellious and good at lashing out so she does that and only concedes when she has no other choice or legitimately terrified.

Despite this her changes are less overt, her fight mentality is a survival mechanism like Adrien's people pleasing so she can't just turn it off. She's still been actively taught a lot of terrible things like its moral to cheat to win, & un-learning that is hard, especially if doing so makes you feel weak. & She's been mimicking Audrey since forever, that doesn't just go away over night.

At the same time though she has more freedom than the others & any overt issues she can identify she can try to address for good & ill. Her dad thinks she shouldn't hang around with people "beneath her station" Well screw that she's throwing a party in the ballroom for the class/school before the new school year starts & Adrien can come too.

This likely means she doesn't rip up Rose's letter cos that was like, peak Audrey. She might be tempted to do the social media thing with Kim cos that is something someone might do, but she'd also be more able to apologize for it. She may indeed still lock Juleka in the bathroom, unless they are like, actively friendly at this point.

A lot depends on how well her shifts in behavior are taken by the class as she's not gonna suddenly be super self aware or easy to get along with in many regards. Though given S1 still had Kim get a crush on her & Rose trust her with a letter, I tend to feel it makes more sense that not everyone had a bad impression of Chloe going into the year. So it'd vary.

Regardless, Chloe would be both the most extreme in shift, while keeping a lot of thorns. But she'd be more open to changing in general if able to contextualize a negative reaction as tied to something her parents would do, letting her aggressively reject it. If she feels 'she' was in the right though, she'd not shift her behavior at all but dig in deeper.

Fucking hell I do go on don't I?

Oh I love all of this though!!

#aware au

24 notes · View notes

bubblesreplies · 2 years ago

Text

The Middle

Max Brinly X Female Reader

Oneshot

APPARENTLY IF YOU’RE READING THIS IN ANY DARK COLORED FORMAT ON TUMBLR (LIKE NIGHT MODE) IT LOOKS FUCKING WEIRD AND IDK HOW TO FIX IT I’M SO SORRY.

A/N: No, I'm not neglecting my other fics to write a random oneshot? Why would you even suggest---fuck it here it is besties. Anyways, this product of procrastination is dedicated and written for my bestie @house-of-kolchek, who loves Max as much as I do.

WARNINGS AND TAGS: NSFW 18+ ONLY, this is unedited and might be awful, Reader is Jacob's cousin, manipulative!Emma but like in a good way, BFF!Emma, Emma/Jacob, Abi/Nick, making Emma cooler than she is, sweetheart!Max, unrequited love (assumably), forced proximity, sex jokes, unsafe seating situations while driving DO NOT DO THIS PLEASE, lap-sitting, erections, staring down your shirt, teasing, love confessions, very very cheesy and idc anymore

Word Count: 8k

Main Masterlist

“EMMA, that is the stupidest idea in seriously the entire world.”

You meant it, too; you already thought that this little impromptu camping trip was an awful idea; the last time that the group of you were out in the woods, it ended with werewolves, so, could anybody really be blamed for not wanting to tempt fate? And now hearing Emma’s latest plan, you couldn’t help but say fuck this whole entire trip and its mom, too.

“Oh—come on!” Emma insisted with a pout across her face, leaning across her oversized suitcase—who in the world needed all of that space for a weekend camping trip? “Babes, you are my wing-woman here—my ultimate girl. Come on, please—Jacob won’t even look at me when we hang out. I really need your help with this!”

You sighed; a year ago, when the ten of you—eight, if you considered the fact that you hadn’t actually met two of the camp counselors until the end of the summer—worked at Hackett’s Quarry and endured that shitshow of a summer, you hadn’t even liked Emma. You didn’t like how she had your cousin, Jacob, mooning all over her like she owned the whole fucking Earth. You didn’t like the way that the nicest girl you’d ever met seemed to think she walked on water, too, and you did not appreciate the fact that she thought she was entitled to tell you all the ways that you were doing your makeup all wrong.

But then, that night happened. The night of the full moon, when your idiot cousin sabotaged the van just to get another night with the woman he’d fallen in love with who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about him. The night where the ten of you had miraculously survived werewolves, and a crazy-ass family trying to kill you all night. That night was what changed everything.

You’d gotten stranded with Emma running through the woods, and somehow landed yourself in a heated battle with Jacob—who had apparently been bitten by one of those things because he was now one of those things. He, obviously, tried to kill the two of you and Emma thought fast, using a piece of silver jewelry to save both of your lives and buy you enough time to get the hell out of there.

And then, you’d been locked in a room with her and Abi, the three of you not knowing if you would survive the night, and something just…changed. You began to see her differently, and from that point on, throughout this entire past year, the three of you had been best friends.

More you and Emma, if you were being honest, because Abi and Nick had just gotten engaged three months ago and most of her free time went to him.

Not that it hurt your feelings. If you somehow managed to bag the man of your dreams, you’d be spending every free moment with him, too.

“Jacob just…needs time,” you informed her with a groan, throwing your tennis shoes across the room as you frantically looked for your favorite pair of leggings. “He’s still hurt, you know? You can’t just tell him you didn’t mean any of it and then expect him to forgive you and jump back into your arms, Emma.”

“Which is why I need you to get me into his cabin this weekend,” Emma pleaded, getting up from her place on your bed and digging through your drawers as she pulled out the very clothes you were looking for. You swore that sometimes, it was literally like she could read your mind. “All we have to do is fake a fight; I will refuse to sleep in the same cabin as you, and then the boys will offer to switch with us. I’ll get a whole night—and a whole, isolated cabin—with Jacob; and you? Well, let’s not pretend that you aren’t benefitting from my little plan.”

You snorted, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling your leggings up over your legs, smiling as Emma nodded towards your ass in approval. If she thought that you looked good, you could rest assured that you damn well did.

“And how will I benefit from getting into a fake fight with you and causing a scene?” You questioned, your head cocked as Emma passed you your shoes and you eagerly slipped them on. The rest of your group would be here at any minute, and you didn’t want to keep them waiting.

“Because if I end up in Jacob’s cabin, you know who ends up in yours? Max.”

You whipped around and shot Emma a glare, shaking your head like you couldn’t believe that she would just mention his name all casually like that. You’d made her swear to never bring up your pathetic, unrequited crush on Max Brinly ever again, since the day she’d first found out that it even existed in the first place.

You first met Max when the sun came up after that hellish night at Hackett’s Quarry. You and Emma had run back to the island to see if Jacob was there and if he was alive, and you ended up running into Max instead. After lots of screaming and confusion, the two of you finally allowed him to explain just how in the fuck he had gotten there and who he was, which is when you learned that your one night of hell had lasted two months for him and his girlfriend.

Emma had found Jacob and ran after him, but you stayed behind with Max, talking and laughing at his jokes, attempting not to swoon at the adorableness that was his laugh. You had hoped, at the beginning of the summer, to find somebody just like him and have a summer romance. Somebody who was cute, who could make you laugh, and seemed to understand you instantly.

It didn’t work out that way, obviously—seeing as the summer had been over and Max Brinly had a girlfriend.

Laura eventually came back for him and you parted ways, assuming that this would be the last time that you would ever see Max Brinly, attributing your budding feelings for him as some sort of trauma response to the night that you had just been through.

Imagine your surprise when, a month after Hackett’s Quarry, the new co-worker that you were assigned to train at the coffee shop was none other than Max Brinly. You assumed right away that he wouldn’t even remember you—why would he?---but you were wrong. He knew exactly and immediately who you were, and the two of you hit it off just as well as you did the first time you had ever spoken to him. It wasn’t long before you were hanging out with him every single day, and he had slowly become your best friend.

You went to movies together, you got dinner, he came to all of the track and field competitions you ran in at your local university, you helped him study hard enough to get into a new graduate school—literally, anything that you could think of, the two of you did it together. You even stayed the night at each other’s apartments on occasion, both of you knowing what the other’s couch felt like pretty intimately.

In fact, the only time the two of you weren’t together was when Laura came to town to visit her boyfriend. Before she dumped him, at least.

It was nearly a month and a half ago now, that you had sat on this very bed with Max as he sobbed, asking you just to hold him and not ask any questions when he told you that he and Laura had broken up.

“Max isn’t into me, so that really doesn’t help your case,” you grumbled, your pissy mood only continuing to sour the more that you thought about it. After Max and Laura, you thought that you might actually stand a chance with him. After all, he spent all of his free time with you, and you knew that nobody in this world knew him as well as you did—and vice versa. But after the night that he’d sobbed with you, fallen asleep in your bed, and told you how he felt like years of his life were wasted with Laura, nothing ever happened.

He just went right on back to being the same old Max, your friend.

“Do you seriously still think that that boy has no feelings for you whatsoever?” Emma shrieked, watching as Jacob’s car pulled up from the window, hurriedly throwing her hair up into a sexily-tossed messy bun. “‘Cause, if you do, you’re so wrong that it isn’t even funny anymore.”

“Em, if he had feelings for me, then why didn’t anything change after he and Laura broke up?!” You interjected, a frown pulling at your lips as you grabbed your tiny duffel bag and hiked it up over your shoulder. “And also, why would he date Laura for so long if he actually, secretly liked me instead? Your logic isn’t logic-ing,” you insisted, and Emma smirked.

“You are so naive that it’s actually kind of cute,” she responded, rolling her eyes as Jacob opted to honk instead of being a gentleman and coming to the door. Emma sauntered over to you, playing with the ends of your hoodie and eyeing it suspiciously. “Look, just—help me with this plan, and you’ll see, okay? And change into that sexy little top I bought you last month for the car ride.”

“Emma!”

“Just trust me!” Emma insisted, pulling the hoodie up and over your head for you and tossing you the lacey black crop top she’d bought you last month. “Put it on—good, yes, I would so bang you—oh, and just in case you find out that Max also wants to bang you, I snuck condoms into your bag.”

“You have got to be kidding me, Emma!” You shrieked, although it was with a large smile on your face as you were, once again, blown away by the antics of your friend.

Emma only laughed as the two of you rushed down to the car, you having to help Emma with one half of her bag since she’d brought such a gigantic one. You’d barely made it to the door before there was a knock on it—apparently Jacob had decided to be a gentleman after all. Or he’d simply gotten impatient, which was the better bet of the two options.

“Keep your pants on cuz, we’re coming,” you hissed out, lowering your end of Emma’s bag to the ground as you ripped open the door to your apartment. Your annoyed glare dropped and your mouth fell open as you saw Max standing there, his cheeks red and running a hand through his freshly-cut red hair. “Max! I, uh, thought you were Jacob?”

Fuck, why did you sound so fucking awkward?! Your conversation with Emma had you paranoid and upset, and if you kept acting this way, Max would definitely notice. The two of you had crossed the awkward barrier a long time ago.

“Ah, nah,” Max answered, his signature smile flashing across his face and warming you up from the inside out. “Jake’s too possessive over that steering wheel to get his ass over to the door honestly.”

“That and he doesn’t want to have to speak to me,” Emma sighed, lugging her bag forward and hitting Max in the chest with it. You suppressed a giggle as he let out an “Oomph!”, but he caught your smile and playfully sneered at you. “Oh, what a gentleman! And damn, Max, I’ve never noticed how strong you are. Have you, Y/n?! Have you ever noticed those biceps?”

“Cut it out, Emma,” you hissed under your breath, grateful that Max had already turned around and was heaving her oversized bag to the trunk of the car. “I know what you’re doing, and it isn’t going to work on me.”

“What am I doing?” Emma asked with faux innocence, batting her eyelashes heavily down at you before she winked. “Just use it as fuel for our fake fire, if you want, babes. Besides—would it really kill you to admit in front of him that he looks good?! Give the boy a win, Y/n!”

“He does not think of me that way—”

“Hey, um, Emma?” Max called out as you were locking your front door behind you, and you turned and ran over to where he was pursing his lips behind the trunk. “Maybe we should’ve brought a bigger car, but, your bag is not going to fit back here.”

Emma turned to look and her lips, too, were pursed.

“Well, where’s everyone sitting?” She asked, peering her head into the car to check out the situation.

“Well, uh, Jacob’s driving—obviously—Abi and Nick are in the row of two seats behind him, and then he wants you to sit back in the last row with me while Y/n takes the passenger seat,” Max explained, using his hands to gesture to each person. Abi turned around to look at you from her place in the car, Nick’s head in her lap as he slept, and she waved. You waved back, grimacing at the large bag that was seated at your feet.

“Hmm, no, that won’t do,” Emma insisted with a wave of her hand, using all of her strength to heave her bag up and over the full trunk of the car and into the last row of seats. “It’s going to have to go here—and oh, I really didn’t sleep well last night, so if I don’t sit in the passenger seat, I’ll get sick.”

Max’s jaw dropped and he scoffed lightly, looking between the two of you as you held in a large groan.

“I don’t really see how that makes any sense?” He questioned.

“So Y/n will have to sit in the back, with you!” Emma finished with a gleeful squeal, hurrying to shut the trunk and turning to make her way to the passenger seat of the car.

“Um—hold on a minute, just where the fuck in the back will I sit?!” You barked out, gesturing incredulously to the monstrosity that was her luggage all over the back seat of the car. “Your bag is taking up the entire row—all but one seat, Em! And it’s way too fucking big to go down at our feet!”

Emma put a daintly little finger to her chin, and you could tell that she was only pretending to think about the predicament.

“Well, it’s only about a forty-five minute drive,” she informed you, a wicked smile pushing its way onto her lips. “It’s not that long, so, just sit on Max’s lap?”

Your eyes widened and you felt sweat beading on the back of your neck, your heart beating at an intensely quick pace just at the mere thought of having to sit on Max. One look at Max’s face showed he heard her suggestion, too, because it was unnaturally blank and pale.

You walked closer to Emma, pulling her into you as you said, “You better be fucking for real with your next suggestion, or we will get in an actual fight, Emma,” you warned her, your voice low enough that Max couldn’t hear it. You noticed that he was already ushering Nick and Abi out of the car, hurrying to his seat in the back, and the three of them were just waiting on you.

“Oh my g—will you just trust me, for once in your life?!” Emma begged dramatically, clinging onto your arm and giving you a little push towards Max. “Thank me later, hoe.”

Oh no, I will not be thanking you later, you sneaky little she-devil, you thought to yourself, climbing over Abi’s seat and landing ungracefully into Max’s lap. He caught you much more elegantly than you fell, luckily, and he helped you right yourself so that your back was facing his chest.

You turned your face towards him despite the fact that it was burning, and you brushed a strand of hair back behind your ear.

“You know, I could always just sit on her bag instead of on you,” you offered, geturing weakly over to the big problem that Emma had handed over to the two of you with a private sneer at her back. “That way I won’t crush your legs into tiny pieces of ash.”

Max actually laughed out loud at that and your heart swelled with a feeling of accomplishment; Max was funny, he had probably always been funny, and anytime that you had gotten him to laugh, you took it as a personal achievement.

“Please sweetheart, as if you could,” Max retorted, winding an arm around your waist as he pulled your back flush against his chest, leaving his arm to rest across your stomach and his fingers splayed across your hipbone. You closed your eyes, holding in a sigh as you prayed that he couldn’t see the way that your face had reddened from this angle. “Besides, this is probably the…safer option of the two.”

You heartily disagreed with that.

Still, you positioned yourself against him, awkwardly playing with your fingers on your lap as you had no idea where to rest your hands. You and Max were close, yes, but you had never physically been close, aside from a few silly moments of teasing tickles, accidentally falling asleep on his shoulder, or him resting his legs on your lap as the two of you watched a movie together. This was entirely new territory, and you had no idea what to do with it, and you knew that if Emma hadn’t forced this to happen, that Max wouldn’t have chosen to even be in this situation with you. Probably.

“Jacob, the drive is forty-five minutes?” You called up to him, wincing as you watched your cousin’s teeth grit in the rearview mirror as he attempted to ignore Emma completely.

“An hour, if traffic’s bad,” Jacob called back and you groaned, your leg shaking furiously in your nervousness. As if Max could sense that you were on edge—fuck, with the way that you were bouncing around he probably could feel it—his other hand landed on your thigh, rubbing calming circles around as he successfully got it to stop shaking.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so anxious today,” you sighed, rubbing a hand down your face and leaning back into Max. You could hear his groan and you winced, assuming you had hurt him, as you instantly tried to reposition yourself to take some of the weight off of him.

After a few minutes of frantic wiggling, Max’s hands harshly gripped onto your waist, his fingernails digging into you as he held you tightly into place and you froze, your eyes wide and breath held.

“Y/n, please—stop.” Max’s voice was incredibly hoarse, coming out in a groan and you winced again, mortified that you had hurt him enough to elicit this sort of response.

“Oh shit, Max! I am so sorry—I was trying not to hurt you and then I did hurt you and—”

“Y/n!” Max interrupted, clearing his throat so that his voice sounded a lot more normal and less husky. “Honey, you’re not hurting me, just—don’t wiggle around right—there.”

Your eyebrows raised in confusion at his words and your brain couldn’t process what the hell he was saying, so you just opted to nod, leaning forward as far as you could and beginning a conversation with Abi as you tried with every ounce of your being to not put much weight on Max. It took every ounce of concentration that you had to not think about the fact that you were touching the love of your life and focus on Abi’s words about wedding planning, but somehow, you did it.

“Hey, uh, Jake?” Max suddenly called out, and you noticed that his voice had gone hoarse again and that his tone was tight and clipped. Higher than normal. You frowned; in your conversation with Abi, you had slipped a little further backwards than you’d realized, back into his lap. “How much longer?”

“Thirty minutes,” Jacob growled, and you noticed Emma looking a little offput herself. “It’s looking closer to an hour total at this point.”

“Alright then, we need to stop,” Max insisted and you stifled a pathetic whine, embarrassed that you were this hard to bear just sitting on his lap. It probably didn’t help that you were still actively avoiding any and all contact with him, practically leaving him here in the backseat to talk to himself as you ignored him, anxious and letting Emma’s words get to your head.

You needed to stop. You and Max were friends. Good friends, and you were being absolutely ridiculous about this whole thing.

Three minutes later, Jacob pulled off at a reststop and you lifted off of Max instantly, watching him scamper out of the car after Abi and Nick and hurrying into the men’s restroom. With everyone out of the car but you and Emma, you climbed over the seats and sat between her seat and the driver’s seat, staring at her with wide eyes.

“So,” you started out, pointedly ignoring the tears in her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t want to talk about it right now. “Your plan to make me sit on Max is not working; I can barely say two words to the guy, and his poor legs are getting crushed by me. He probably can’t think of anything but leg cramps!”

“Oh, please,” Emma scoffed, dabbing at her eyes with a tissued and waving your worries away with a flick of her hand. “Look at him, and look at you; there must be some other reason he needs a break.”

“Oh yeah?” You fought back, crossing your arms over your chest as you frowned at your friend. “Like what, exactly? It’s not working Emma, you’re miserable up here, and I am back there; we should just switch places. You’re smaller than me.”

“I am not,” Emma sighed.

“All I know is one minute, I can’t sit still, and the next minute, he’s grabbing my hips and telling me to stop wiggling around,” you continued on, as if Emma hadn’t even interjected. “What else could it be if not that I was—”

You instantly stopped talking as Emma looked over to you, mouth opened and eyes glinting with excitement.

“You poor naive little thing!” She giggled, pulling your arms so that you were practically sitting on her lap. “Y/n, you aren’t hurting him—you’re turning him on and he doesn’t want you to feel it!”

You felt pinpricks across your face as the entire thing turned white, and you were suddenly feeling a little nauseous.

“What?” You questioned, shaking your head lutching nervously at your hair. “What? I—no, Max isn’t—he wasn’t—”

“Oh, yes, yes he was,” Emma argued, and there was a light in her eyes that replaced whatever sadness she had been feeling before you came up there to talk to her. “Okay, do exactly as I say; when Max comes back out to the car, sit back on him just like you were that first time. Wiggle around a bit again—”

“What? No!”

“Just trust me—wiggle around a little bit again, then ask him if he wants to watch something with you on your phone. When you turn it on, lean back against him so that your back is arched and he gets a good, full view down your—”

“Okay, and this is where I officially stop you, you are crazy,” you intoned, shaking your head and leaning away from your friend. “Max is not into me—in case you managed to forget about that, babes—and besides, I can’t just show him my boobs, Emma! They’re my—boobs. They’re, like, private.”

“Holy fuck, how are you not a virgin,” Emma groaned, shoving you back towards your seat as she pointed eagerly out of the car. “Okay, babes, here he comes—just trust me, okay?! Do it!”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but the words fell from your lips as the car door opened and Max poked his head inside, grinning over at you as his eyes darted back and forth between you and Emma.

“What, uh, what’s going on here?” He asked, and you shot a glare at Emma as she giggled, hiding her face in her shirt and sending an ominous wink your way. You tried as well as you could to tell her to shut up with your eyes, but she ignored you in typical Emma fashion.

“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head and sending him a smile. “I was just feeling nervous about getting away this weekend and Emma was talking me down. That’s it.”

“Ah,” Max yawned, heading back to his seat and patting his lap for you to join him. You blushed. “Is that why you’re acting so weird? You haven’t spoken to me for the last, like twenty-five minutes.”

“Yeah, sorry, just nervous,” you insisted, climbing back over Abi’s seat and settling yourself on top of Max’s lap. As you looked up after readjusting, your eyes met Emma’s in the rearview mirror and she nodded, looking from you to Max’s…well…yeah.

You cleared your throat, feeling the burn of your phone in your pocket as you stared widely back at her, conveying that she was being way too obvious, here. Regardless, a part of you was…curious, now, and with Laura out of the picture and Max completely single, it’s not like a little testing of the waters was inappropriate anymore. What could it hurt, really? Max was too nice to reject you, so if he wasn’t into it, he just wouldn’t say anything and you’d let it go forever. But, if he really was into it—

Well that was the best-case scenario, wasn’t it?

So, you shifted; nothing crazy and nowhere close to grinding—just a small, flick of the hips that brushed right up against his crotch. Max’s breath hitched and you froze, wondering if you’d truly heard that right, completely distracted from the fact that Abi and Nick were re-entering the car and that Jacob was starting it again, getting ready to head on the road once more.

A hitch of a breath wasn’t enough of a confirmation for you, so you shifted once again, and then again and then again, and this time Max’s hands lifted back up to your hips, grasping for dear life as you settled your ass back down to his crotch, turning your head to watch as his eyes shut tight and he bit his lip.

“Y/n—”

“Do you want to watch part of a movie with me?” You interrupted, watching as Max’s eyes flashed open, a glint of pain underneath them that had you second-guessing what had just happened. Max smiled down at you, though—that brilliant smile that God had blessed him with—and nodded.

You had no idea what you were going to watch, but your fingers worked anyway, hurriedly typing some stupid TikTok compilation that you hoped he wouldn’t get too distracted by. Max laid his chin on your shoulder, his hands that were gripping your waist winding around your front and interlocking as he held you, his face snuggling slightly into your neck.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, your mind reiterated as you slowly breathed out, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you silently prayed that Max couldn’t hear it, and that he couldn’t feel the way that your skin had suddenly heated up and become sweaty. It wasn’t even that cuddling with Max was anything new—as a person, he was a fucking lapdog—but it was the fact that you had never sat on his fucking lap before while cuddling. Never had intentions to turn him on, never gave him this much of a glance down your lowcut shirt—

Y/n, don’t be a pussy, your inner Emma chastised and you shut your eyes tight and sucked in a breath, desperately trying to convince yourself not to go through with this. But damn it—you sort of wanted to and, so far, Max hadn’t shown a single sign that he’d wanted you to sit anywhere else.

It was halfway through the video that you forgot the rest of the people in the car and arched backward without a minute to second guess yourself, pretending to stretch your arms above your head as you knew you were, successfully, letting Max have a perfect show of your black lacy bra underneath your shirt, and under that, the perfectly rounded mounds of breasts that it pushed up.

You heard a sharp inhale and dared a look at his face; he was as white as a ghost, and even his perfectly placed freckles had gone impossibly paler—and yet his eyes, those gorgeously sea-colored orbs, were still staring down your shirt, transfixed, as he studied your figure.

“Alright, everybody out!” Jacob suddenly called out, and the two of you jumped, Max’s eyes meeting yours as he was brought back to reality. His eyes, no longer clouded over with lust, widened and a blush spread unevenly across his face as he realized that he’d been caught watching you. “We’re here!”

“Y/n,” Max breathed out, whipping his arms away from you and running nervous hands through his newly cut hair. “Shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry, I—I wasn’t—I mean I was but…” You smiled as he stuttered along, a giggle framing your mouth and escaping out of your lip, causing Max’s gaze to whip back onto you. You couldn’t help it; he was always so damn cute when he was flustered.

“Does it make it any less creepy if I’m aware that staring down your shirt is creepy?” Max asked, equal parts timid and teasing. You laughed aloud at that, the two of you lingering in the backseat of the car while the rest of the party headed out.

“It’s fine, Max,” you insisted with a shrug and a wink, conveying in every way possible that you weren’t completely innocent here either. “No one wears a bra like this for it not to be seen, sweetheart.”

The words coming out of your mouth shocked even you, and Max’s entire jaw fell open as he stared at you in complete and utter disbelief.

“Whoa, Y/n,” he reared away from you, just to get a better look at your face, testing to see if you were saying what he thought that you were saying. His hands found their way to your waist again and he touched you softly, his thumbs running up and down the curves of your hipbones as he stared in wonder down at you. “Are you saying that you wanted me to—”

“Are you two gonna get out of the car, or do you plan on freezing your little asses off all night?!” Jacob called out as he forced open the trunk of the car, staring in disbelief at the two of you still sitting there. You both jumped, eyes turning to Jacob with guilty blushes, and you didn’t waste another second climbing off of Max and over the seats, pushing your way past Jacob and onto the dirt-clodded driveway.

Taking your bag from your cousin and asking a hurried, “Where’s our cabin again?” You received directions and hurried off in the direction of the cabin that you and Emma were supposed to share, attempting to outrun Max so that he couldn’t question you any further.

What the hell had you been thinking?! You hadn’t, obviously, and you’d let Emma’s skewed opinion get to you. Now, you had to come up with a solution for some serious damage control before Max got to you with his, What’s gotten into you today? And his, Look, I know you must have been kidding, or his I’m sorry Y/n, I’m just not attracted to you that way—

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, throwing open the door to the cabin and chucking your suitcase onto the empty bed. Emma was standing on the other side of the room, facing the bathrooms, but she jumped and turned around when she heard the slam of the front door. “Fuck this whole plan, Emma, and fuck my stupid self too. I can’t believe that I actually let myself believe that Max was really into me and I—holy shit, are you crying?!?”

Emma’s pretty hazel eyes were red-rimmed, but the telltale giveaway that she’d been sobbing was the tear tracks of black mascara spreading down her cheeks and clumping up near her pointy chin.

Once her mind had registered your question, she began sobbing once again, her hands coming up to cover her eyes and you ran to her, throwing your arms around her neck and feeling her own arms go around your waist as she sobbed into your neck heartily.

“Honey, what happened?” You asked, but your voice was muffled by your much taller friend’s collarbone. You pulled away from her and sat her down on her bed, sitting down next to her and taking her hand in yours. “Emma, what did my idiot cousin say to you? You know that big dummy acts completely on emotions, so whatever he said, I’m sure it was just in the heat of the—”

“He meant it,” Emma interrupted you, pulling her hand out of yours and using it to wipe her eyes. “But I don’t even want to talk about it right now, so—tell me what happened with Max.” You opened your mouth to protest but she shot you her “Emma” look—the look that told you that arguing would quite literally be pointless. So, you sighed, letting yourself fall backward onto the bed and groaning as your head hit the awfully lumpy mattress she’d been provided tonight.

“I don’t know what happened, Emma,” you admitted with a whine, feeling her lay down beside you and cuddle her head into yours comfortingly. “It was like I had this sudden, insane boost of confidence and I was like…grinding on him and giving him a full show of my boobs—”

“You do have great boobs—”

“And then when he noticed that I caught him staring at my breasts, I kindofsortofmaybe insinuated that I wanted him to look down my shirt and then he was about to ask me if I really meant that I wanted him to see me naked and then Jacob interrupted us and I freaked out and ran away.”

Emma just stared back at you, blinking occasionally, as if she were really confused.

“Why?” She finally asked, staring down at you in confusion. You blinked back at her, shaking your head bewilderedly.

“Wait, why what?”

“Why did you run away, you fucking dumbass!” Emma insulted, but it was loving and the two of you laughed as she pushed you off the bed and you squealed. “Seriously, Y/n, what the fuck? You ran away? After doing all of that you just ran?”

“I was scared!” You defend your actions with a hiss, pulling yourself up off of the floor and planting down next to her again. “Fuck, Emma, Max is my best friend. I cannot risk freaking him out and losing him, okay? I just…can’t, okay, he means…he means everything to me, Emma, he’s the most important person in the whole world. He’s my best friend.”

“Ouch,” Emma responded, but there was a fond smile on her face and a happy gleam in her eyes as she gazed down at you. “Babes, you know that you’re the most important thing in the world to him too, right? Even if he didn’t feel the same way about you, he wouldn’t let this ruin your friendship. You know that, right?”

You shrugged and looked away from her, playing with your hands as you avoided the question. Did you know that? No, not really. Yeah, the two of you were really close, and yeah, he spent most of his free time with you, but that didn’t mean that this wasn’t something that would freak him out enough to ghost you.

“Shit, if I was going to do something as fucking ridiculous as this, I should have just bit the and told him how I felt,” you finally responded with a sigh, pushing yourself off of the bed and shuffling your feet over the cold, hardwood floor. “But you know, maybe this way, there’s some way that I can play it off?”

“Okay babes, I’m just going to say this once and I’m going to say it outright,” Emma cut you off, standing in front of you and forcing your chin up to look your much taller friend in the eyes. “I know why they broke up, Y/n. The real reason, and if you just fucking ask me I will tell you right here, right now.”

The offer was, obviously, tempting; and two or three years ago you’d probably be a lesser person and taken that offer. As it was, though, you valued Max and his privacy, and if he’d wanted you to know, he would have told you himself.

“No, I don’t want to know,” you insisted, pursing your lips and pulling away from Emma. “It isn’t any of my business, and Max made that abundantly clear by not telling me inthe first place.”

“Of fucking course,” Emma groaned with a shake of her head, rolling her eyes at you and then fixing you with a glare. “The two of you are both so stupid.”

“Gee, thanks Em.” Your words fell flat as you shot her your own sharp look and she gulped, having the common decency to at least look like she felt bad for saying what she did. “Besides, why do you even know the reason Laura dumped him?”

“Laura didn’t dump Max—Max dumped Laura,” Emma clarified and your heart dropped into your stomach. The piece of news, realistically, probably should have made you feel better, but it didn’t. It only made you feel worse, like your heart had been stomped on and used up. Because—if that was true—if Max had dumped Laura—then why had he been so upset that night when he came over to your house? And why the fuck had he lied to you about it?

“What?” You asked, your voice tiny and fragile, and Emma looked back at you, confused.

“Max broke up with Laura,” Emma repeated, and was somehow completely missing the broken, wounded look that was written all over your face. “He dumped her, because he wasn’t in love with her, Y/n, he realized that he was—”

“Emma.”

Jacob’s voice pierced through the air, and the two of you jumped towards the sound, to where your cousin was currently glaring daggers towards your best friend. Emma immediately shut up, shooting you a guilty look as she moved farther away from you and towards Jacob.

“Y/n, can you please give us a moment?” Jacob asked, his throat froggy and having to clear it as he continued staring at Emma. When you saw the raw, heated look pass between them you excused yourself quickly, knowing that whatever feud they were having was about to be made up in tenfold. You forgot to bring your suitcase with you—not even thinking that you’d effectively be kicked out of your cabin for the night—as you ran outside, outside to the nothingness that awaited you.

No, seriously.

There was not a soul out here, Abi and Nick notably missing and Max even nowhere to be seen—not that you even wanted to see him right now anyways. Your heart was barely beating in your chest at the revelation that he’d lied to you—you, supposedly his closest friend—about something that was so huge. Then again, maybe he had no idea how huge it was to you. He didn’t at all, actually, because he had no idea that you were so annoyingly and stupidly in love with him.

“Fuck this day, and fuck everyone else,” you groaned to yourself as you plopped down on a metal bench under a canopy, covering your eyes with your hands as you whined.

“That an invitation?”

Max’s voice sent your blood running cold and you jumped, shocked, turning yourself towards him as he stood slightly behind you, watching you warily. His face was red, but he was smiling at you, and he made his way over and sat at the bench opposite you slowly.

The two of you stared at each other for a while—one of you, optimistically nervous, and the other of you having had your heart shattered into a million little pieces just ten minutes ago. Neither of you said anything, unsure of what exactly you should say, for a long time until finally, Max broke the silence.

“Y/n,” Max spoke, clearing his throat from the nervousness that threatened to choke and overtake him. “About what you said in the car—”

“You lied to me.”

You hadn’t intended for it to come out like that, but there it was, and there was no taking it back now.

Max reared back, astonishment registering across his perfect features.

“I—what?” He shook his head back and forth, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. “I lied about—about the car?”

“No Max, not about the fucking car!” You swore, rising from your seat in your anger. Max followed quickly, a gentle hand on your elbow that you quickly ripped out of his grasp. “You lied to me about—about Laura! You told me that she—that she broke up with you, Max! You were heartbroken, you were crying, you lied!”

You thought that there were tears streaming down your face but you couldn’t really tell at the moment. All you could feel was the adrenaline that was being fueled by your anger, and all you could see was the shock that hadn’t left Max’s face since you’d first spoken.

“Who told you that?” Max questioned, and the fact that he wasn’t denying it made you even more upset and you huffed, turning around on one heel and heading towards—fuck, you had absolutely nowhere to go.

“Does it matter?” You answered, turning back around and accepting the fact that the only way you were going to get to be alone was if Max went back to his cabin and left you here and, knowing him, that wasn’t likely to happen. “You lied, Max. And I’m pissed about it. That’s the only thing that you should care about.”

You still hadn’t turned around to face him, so he made his way in front of you instead, placing tentative hands on both of your arms and levelling his face with yours.

“Sweetheart, please look at me.” Fuck; you were weak anytime that Max called you sweetheart and you knew that he knew it, too. Hating yourself just a little bit more for it, you looked up at him, unaware of how your big, sad eyes caused every cell in his body to melt.

“Why did you lie to me?” The question slipped through your lips without your consent and Max sighed, releasing your arms and pressing a hand into your hip so that you couldn’t get away again.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Max answered simply and you reared back, out of his touch, away from his hold, as you scoffed in response.

“You didn’t want to hurt me?” You shrieked, pulling farther away from him and pushing your hands out in front of you to stop him when he tried to reach out for you again. “What the fuck—how the fuck would that have hurt me, Max?”

Max winced, running a nervous hand through his hair, and inspected his surroundings, as if he wished somebody else would come out any minute now.

“Y/n, you are my best friend,” Max pleaded, and you could see the desperation in his eyes but you had no idea why he was so upset. “You know me better than anybody else in this entire world, honey, please—can you give me the benefit of the doubt on this one? Can you let me tell you when I’m ready?”

“No, Max, obviously I cannot do that because obviously it has something to do with me!” You retorted sharply, angry tears burning hot at the corners of your eyes, hotter than normal, devastated tears. “Like—what is going on, Max? I hae this feeling that everybody’s in on this secret, everybody but me—and I should know it, I should know what’s going on with you—”

“Y/n, sweetheart!” Max interrupted again, and this time, he successfully gathered your hands into his. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that I lied—really I am, but—why is it so important to you?” You glared back at him, pulling your hands out of his grasp and beginning to walk away from him. “Why is it such a big deal that I didn’t tell you the whole truth?”

“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” You screamed back at him, your body turning back around on its own accord as the screech left your mouth. You both heard the words echo against a canyon somewhere, and you blanched, unaware of what you’d actually said and the weight of them until they hit you in the chest on the reverb.

Max’s mouth had dropped open and he stepped away from you in shock, his hands coming up to frame his cheeks, never making actual physical contact with his face. He stared back at you, his eyes wide and full of wonder, as if he were seeing you for the first time, all over again.

“You’re—” Max gulped, but he took a step closer to you, a smile adorning his freckled cheeks. “You’re in love with me? Really?”

Your heart sunk again when he spoke and you shook your head, backing away from him and pressing two fingers to the bridge of your nose as you suddenly felt an oncoming migraine.

“I’m sorry Max,” you apologized, feeling a bout of nausea spring up in your stomach as you realized that you’d just past the point of no return. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I should have never even said anything—I should have let it go—”

“I broke up with Laura because I’m in love with you.”

The words came out quickly, like Max was afraid that if he hadn’t said them as quickly as he did that he wouldn’t say them at all. You reaction was surprisingly slow compared to everything else you’d done in haste tonight, and you dropped your hands from your face and gazed up at the man in front of you, who was staring back at you with awe.

“W—what?”

“I love you,” Max repeated, taking another step towards you with his light, airy chuckle that you loved so damn much. “And I didn’t tell you that night I broke up with Laura because I thought that you’d think I was lying, or that you were a rebound, and you’re not, Y/n. You’re absolutely not—I’ve loved you for a long enough time that I’m a total asshole for letting it go on with Laura for as long as I did.”

“Then why—why did you—”

“I lied because I didn’t want you to think that any of this was your fault,” Max continued, and he was so close now that his arms were winding around your waist and his forehead was pressed to yours. “I just—I knew, the second I saw you again in that coffee shop, that it was fate. And I lied to myself, hoping that my relationship would just fizzle out on its own and that I wouldn’t have to hurt anyone but—fuck, I would break Laura’s heart a thousand times over if it meant that I might get to be with you in the end,” Max finished, and you were stunned silent, unaware of how to speak anymore.

“Do I—” Max took a sharp inhale of breath and a step back to assess your face. “Do I get you in the end?”

You smiled back at him before pressing your lips so tightly to his, wrapping your body so hard around his own, that the two of you could barely breathe in anything that wasn’t lingering on each other’s bodies.

“You had me,” you answered in between breathless kisses, in between promises, in between hopeful smiles. “You had me at the beginning.”

if you liked this cheesy shit, check out my multichapters!

if you'd like to join any of my taglists, dm me!

FOREVER TAGLIST:

@house-of-kolchek @lorebite @yeslieutenant @kassiekolchek22 @buttermykolchek @kawaiiwitch224 @ageofbajabule

#max brinly x reader #the quarry x reader #the quarry #max brinly #max the quarry

315 notes · View notes

sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years ago

Text

♥️ Daryl Dixon Masterlist ♥️ p.2

This is a masterlist dedicated to things I've written about Daryl Dixon.

Check out my Prompt List and my Character List in my Masterpost which is pinned for more info on who I write for and some inspiration for requests.

This is a mix of headcannons, oneshots and blurbs :)

Keep Quiet:

Summary/Request: "Scenarios:- I've never wanted to fuck someone so badly before"

Missed:

Summary/Request: "prompts: oh, now you’re shy? spread your legs. eyes on me. i’ve got you, don’t worry"

Scars:

Summary/Request: "Hey :) I was thinking how would Daryl react when his s/o starts to kiss his scars on his back very lovely and gentle while whispering sweet nothings into his ear?"

Oopsie:

Summary/Request: "Friends with benefits situation and Daryl accidentally got Reader pregnant (oopsie!). One time she overheard his conversation with someone so she confronted him saying: why do you feel the need to specify we're just friends?"

Cleaned Up:

Summary/Request: "another one! what about “when was the last time you actually managed to let go?” and “c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” with daryl? im still only on season 7, so any era before that is fine :)"

Eyes on Me:

Summary/Request: "I hope I'm not too late, could I please get a Daryl Dixon fluff au with 'eyes on me' princess/knight protector au. Please and thank you

Pain in My Ass:

Summary/Request: "Cuddling for Warmth with Daryl Dixon 🥺🥺🥺"

In Bed:

Summary/Request: "WithDaryl Dixon, maybe angst with a happy ending? But totally free reign with whatever you want to write 💚"

Innuendo:

Summary/Request: "bodyguard vs guarded with daryl with the prompts “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” and “I’ll always keep you safe.”? i know this is the bare minimum but hopefully its something you can work with?"

Tempting:

Summary/Request: ""If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?" X Bodyguard AU with daryl ????"

What I Want:

Summary/Request: ""If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?" X Knight!Daryl !!!! Angsty fluff perhaps?"

Halloween:

Summary/Request: "dressing up, handing out candy to the little kids in their costumes trick-or-treating, pumpkin carving, that kinda stuff - with a partner "

Ex:

Summary/Request: "he lost her and that she didn’t survive. I mean that’s what he thought until when the group arrived in Alexandria, guess who was there to welcome them? Daryl’s “ex” girlfriend."

Broke Me First:

Summary/Request: "“you didn’t just break promises, you broke me” and “how many times am i supposed to forgive you?” angst with daryl please?"

Overprotective:

Summary/Request: "Overprotective!Darryl x reader"

Too Far:

Summary/Request: "I've been looking for a story of Daryl and Y/N, where an argument goes a little too far and Y/N end up fliching away. Soft and comforting Daryl💖"

Mangled:

Summary/Request: "Where, after the claimers attack, readers clothes get a little ripped and Daryl offers the angel best to cover her up! Very much fluff! 💕"

Braided:

Summary/Request: "Daryl went and was all grumpy and was about to leave until he saw the female reader wearing a dress and her hair tied in a beautiful braid that carol did on her?"

New Years:

Summary/Request: "Hi! Can I request Daryl with female reader any era having a new years kiss?"

Still Mad:

Summary/Request: "something angst but cute at the end as if daryl had moved away from reader(they were a couple) because of leah, and then she leaves with maggie, but at the end of season 10 they meet again."

Bad Guy:

Summary/Request: "Can you write a Daryl Dixon blurb with the prompts 7 and 18?"

Rubbing Off On You:

Summary/Request: "Can you write Daryl Dixon (set in commonwealth) where he's dating RJ and Judith's teacher?? I just think of someone so preppy and happy dating someone so gloomy and brooding like Daryl and I literally crack up."

I Got You:

Summary/Request: "Hi, could I please have a Daryl Dixon comfort/fluff request where the reader got her period and it's a sucky one so Daryl comforts her please and thank you?"

Guys My Age:

Summary/Request: "Daryl and the reader have had a 'sort of' sexual tension for a while but, given their age gap, Daryl's never made a point to act on it and neither has she. But it finally becomes too much when Daryl catches another man flirting with the reader."

Never Have I Ever:

Summary/Request: "May I request a Daryl x female reader the scene where he and Beth played “never have I ever” while drinking moonshine but with female reader?"

Him and I:

Summary/Request: "Daryl and his wife get separated at the fall of the prison but both manage to escape with another member of their crowd. After the reader and Glenn find Abraham and their group, almost after accepting they'll never find the rest of their families, they stumble in to Terminus. Will they be reunited or will the current state of the world impede them once more?"

Old Times:

Summary/Request: "May I request a Daryl with female reader where it’s during the prison ark. Carl or Rick find a working record player and play some records one night to liven up their spirits. Some start to dance while others smile and watch and female reader asks Daryl to dance with her?"

Just Share The Bed:

Summary/Request: "One Bed and Im not afraid of you."

Tough Guy:

Summary/Request: "Daryl Dixon and the prompt 'I’m not afraid of you.’"

Just Alright:

Summary/Request: "maybe daryl dixon and “stop pouting” toward the reader? sort of gentle but in charge vibes? 💙💙"

Need You:

Summary/Request: "could you do a Daryl dixon with "you're hurting me."

74 notes · View notes

gabriel-xander · 8 months ago

Text

Don't Forget

[Sans x Female!Reader]

1: Welcome to the Underground (How Was the Fall?)

♪───✿⁠(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

All you do is stare up at the small, small circle of light above you. Your breathing is slow and steady, and one of your hands is on your stomach right underneath your titties. The other is resting down on the ground, softly feeling the large, yellow flower petals beneath you that had broken your fall. You honestly don’t know how long you’ve been lying there. You can’t bring yourself to get up either. You feel… so peaceful.

It’s a little chilly here, but not so much that it makes you want to bundle up, but cool enough that it’s pleasant. Honestly, you’re tempted to close your eyes and take a nap right where you are. The only reason that you don’t is because this is not a normal situation you have found yourself in. That, and the throbbing pain of your right leg that is slowly bleeding out onto the gold flowers (though it was not lethal that you had to be seriously concerned).

Well, actually. This is not the weirdest thing you’ve experienced before. There was this one time you got stabbed as a prank when you were seventeen, but you tried not to think about it too hard. Mainly because you also stabbed that punk back but that was six years ago! No use in dwelling in what once was.

Still.

Somehow falling into a dark Chasm at the top of the mountain? That somehow beats that time you fought God (your parole officer) in the Denny’s parking lot. Is this your attempt to repress the seriousness of this situation with humor?

Yes.

Because you don’t fucking know what the hell happened that ended you up in this situation.

──

You fix your dress and scrunch up your nose at your reflection, trying and failing to pose in the comfort of your bedroom inside your apartment. It’s not… typically something you would wear regularly. Still, your friend, Elliot, had gifted it to you for your birthday not too long ago, so you might as well use it now. He’s a friend you made in your second year of University, and you two have been pretty close since.

If you were honest with yourself, you would’ve NEVER thought you could make it to where you are now. You’re currently in your last year at Northern Arizona University, and applying to get accepted into a graduate school. You’re almost done with the last year to get your bachelor's degree in Biology, and the last semester is just around the corner. You went to community college at eighteen for two years but afterward took a year off before attending University for the next two years.

It’s a little unorthodox, but it’s much cheaper and better pacing for yourself. After all, you know that getting your doctorate’s is going to kick your fucking ass. You’re not in a rush for that crap, so no, you have no issue with taking your time. Doing all this just to be a surgeon is a lot of work! If your dad had taught you anything, it is to take a break when things start to get too much. There’s no use in stressing yourself out too much to the point of self-destruction, after all.

Anyway, you met Elliot when taking an elective and were sitting next to each other in class. He was a little shy at first, but when he realized you were just as mentally ill as he was, you two got along great. As you two kept hanging out, naturally you’d adopt certain habits from each other.

For example: his fashion taste.

The dress he picked out for you is more “cozy, mid-autumn weather” core than your usual “I am surviving off of cocaine and ecstasy but I’m trying to look good” core, you know? It’s not bad, by all means. You’re sporting a light and dark brown striped dress that hangs a bit close to your figure with the skirt stopping mid-thigh. The sleeves were very short and only covered your shoulders and the neckline was low and round, so you wore a white, button-up shirt underneath it. You would’ve gone full white woman’s Instagram and put on some panty-hoes as well, but Arizona weather is the fucking worst. You knew that it would get hot later even though it was nearing the end of December (in the year 201X), so you ditched the panty-hose and slipped on black ankle boots.

Look at you, so fucking fancy. University life is turning you into a bad bitch who drinks coffee from Dutch Bros and looks out the window so you can seem mysterious and sexy.

You nod at your reflection, looking around your room for a moment to find your small, crossbody purse. Making sure you have everything you need in that bag, you leave swiftly without looking back.

──────

Elliot… had gone ahead before you!!! You just got off the phone with the guy and he had gone up the mountain while waiting for you!

You’ll admit that you were running late by 30 minutes, but only because you grabbed a drink from the store for you both! Granted you drank both of the cold drinks during the ride because you got lost in thought-

Anyway! It’s not unusual for Elliot to go on ahead of you sometimes whether on purpose or accident. You don’t take it personally, you just need to catch up with him. You put your phone in your purse and sled it on before leaving the car. Your poor, poor car. It’s going to break down eventually, you just know it. It’s been through way too much shit, but she’s still running.

You begin walking up the faded trail, definitely a legal and legitimate trail, and not one that you and Elliot made for yourselves because you guys know a good spot up the mountain that is off-limits. Still, you never actually went up the mountain alone before, it was always with Elliot–you never had to really pay attention to where you were going.

This is not falling in your favor at the moment.

It doesn’t help that the sun was rapidly setting already even though it’s only a little after 5 pm. You swear you’re not dumb, your intelligence is just a fucking roller coaster: sometimes it’s REALLY high, and other times it’s embarrassingly low. Not waiting for Elliot to come back down the mountain so he could walk with you back up the mountain is certainly one of your dumber moves in the book.

Not as dumb as that one time you challenged the bouncer at a club to a dance battle to let you in because you forgot your ID at home and couldn’t prove you were 22. No, no, no. You have a full arsenal of moronic things you’ve done in the past. (Spoilers: you did NOT win that dance battle.)

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking up the mountain. You lost the faint trail a while ago and had pulled out your phone’s flashlight to light your way and not trip and eat shit.

“I fucking hate it here…!” You grumble under your breath, “This is the last time I go out on a school night.”

You raise up your flashlight and stop walking. You’re… You seem to be a lot higher than you originally thought. You’re definitely not where you should be. You’re not a professional hiker, or someone who is knowledgeable in nature and crap. But you’ve learned enough to see signs of anything walking through an area, or man-made tracks via the dirt or on the trees. This place hasn’t been touched in a long time.

You turn on your phone to call Elliot, but you don’t have any bars or a signal. Shit. This might be a good time to go back down, but… Ah, you’re a little excited to see where this adventure takes you! You know the ins and outs of this city, and you rarely explore outside the mountainside you and Elliot frequent. You’re going to feel bad about it, but you’re sure Elliot will be fine waiting for you a little longer as you explore this side.

The air is getting colder now, you must’ve misunderstood the weather for today since it’s not usually this cold at this time. Your legs, your beautiful legs, are beginning to feel the consequences of you not wearing an extra layer of clothes. You don’t know how long you’ve been going up, but it was, surprisingly, not as tiring as you thought it would be. You didn’t realize you’d reached the top until the light from the moon was brighter than your phone. You put it back in your purse, smiling and taking a deep breath.

No, this isn’t the very top of the mountain, but a particular summit on this uncharted trail. You notice a strange, large something a few meters from you, but you decide to keep away from it because you’re not white like that. You still want that break though, so you remove your purse from your person and set it down. You lay down on the green grass, staring up at the beautiful stars.

You start humming to yourself, feeling comfortable enough to do so since there shouldn’t be anyone for miles.

“LA la LA laaa,” You grin to yourself, thinking how awkward it’d be if someone was listening, “LA la LA la… La… la. La LA la. LA… La… laaa.”

You keep repeating the same tune, not musically talented enough to make up your own song other than a simple “la-la-la” tune. It’s so peaceful out here, that you kind of wonder if you’re able to take a quick nap-

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

A thorny vine wraps around your right ankle, spiraling up to your calf and digging into your skin to make you bleed.

You’re being dragged by the leg.

“WHAT THE–NO, NO, NO!!”

You dig your fingers into the dirt and grass, trying to grab anything and everything. You’re trying to pull yourself free and resist, you barely managed to reach the straps of your bag and thwack your bag on the vines. Damn you for leaving your knife in the glove department of your car!

As if taking that personally, the vines thicken and tighten around your leg and TUGS you violently.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Your grip on your purse weakens and you let it go by accident, and the pain is so sudden that you can’t muster the strength to resist anymore. Apparently, that was all the vines needed to drag you closer to the strange something on the ground that you were purposely trying to stay away from. Now that you’re being forced closer to it, you can see that it’s a hugE FUCKING HOLE!

“NO, NO, NO, NO!! STOP, STOP, STOP!!”

The thorny vines do not listen to you, however, because they are vines.

“PLEASE, I SWEAR I’LL FINALLY GO TO CHURCH!!”

Your desperation grows stronger when you can feel your legs begin to hang off an edge–entering the dark pit of this summit. Your own weight is pulling you down and adrenaline is the only reason why you’re able to clutch to the edge of the crater with all your might to not fall-

The vines YANK your right leg, and you fall, down, down, down into the dark hollow of the mountain.

──

“Haa… Ha…”

Your breathing had only just slowed down, and so did your adrenaline. Your voice is soft and meek as if you’re scared to break the silence.

“Ah… What… What the hell just happened…?”

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve already thought you were completely, royally, and utterly fucked.

#fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #undertale #sans undertale #sans x reader #Don't Forget Fanfiction

15 notes · View notes

sl-newsie · 2 months ago

Text

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 22: Interpreting

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/744620213809594368/behind-masks-dr-jonathon-crane-x-oc-masterlist?source=share

(Warning: small mention of nudity)

The cold cement against my skin does little to comfort me as I lean against the wall. How long has it been? How long does he expect me to wait? If I stay back here any longer then someone might get suspicious. And what am I supposed to think?

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by Dr. Crane’s new position. In a way he’s trapped passing judgment just like I am. Was. It’s a game of survival now.

“Good. You’re here.”

The man in question strides around the corner carrying a briefcase. His judge’s robe is gone and now he looks like the same egoistic man I first met. Yet in this environment of survival his cockiness has been watered down.

I get straight to the point. “What do you want?”

“It’s not what I want, it's what we both want,” he says. “Protection. If you stay with me I can make sure you never sit in that chair. In return you can keep me from getting beat to a pulp in the street.”

Another transaction. I guess Bane’s protection for him only goes so far. As in around the block. The minute Jonathon leaves the courthouse there are hundreds of people that can snap him in two. I should walk away… But the idea of being safe from exile is awfully tempting.

“Very well.” I hold out a hand and we shake. “Where is your hideout?”

In the shadows I barely make out a small sheepish look on his face. “Actually my quarters have been updated to allow me to be closer to my job.”

“Enough stalling, Dr. Crane. Spit it out.”

“It’s up there.”

My gaze follows to where he’s pointing and I look up to see a massive apartment complex. To the very top floor.

“You’re serious? A penthouse? And you thought I was insensitive to live in luxury.”

He grumbles something under his breath and starts walking through the dark street. “Are you coming?”

Do I dare to trust him again? Surely whatever sights his fear toxin brings must be close to comparison with my current situation. Maybe having someone else to live out this nightmare will be entertaining.

“Coming!” I jog to catch up. “I’m guessing your new boss sent you there?”

“Yes,” he replies, looking straight ahead. “Do you have any possessions you need to retrieve from Ms. Kyle’s apartment?”

I gesture to myself. “You’re looking at them. There’s some supplies I left behind but it’s small stuff I don’t mind losing. I don’t trust Gotham to leave anything unguarded. You’d be surprised how many burglars I’ve had to take care of.”

Jonathan hums with interest. “Take care of?”

“Only the occasional lost finger or cut on the cheek. I’m leaving the killing to your court now.”

We get to the giant building and begin the hike up the staircase. Every few floors there are squatters and various citizens standing around, watching our every move. They leave us alone but that might be because they see my knives. We finally get to the top and Crane pulls out a key to unlock a door marked ‘Judge Crane.’

“Ooh. The name that puts fear in people’s eyes!” I taunt. “Does your job really get you this much authority?”

“In an insane world, it is the madmen who call the shots,” he answers and allows me inside. “They thought I was a perfect candidate.”

They’re not wrong. I survey the surprisingly tidy living room with curiosity. Half the wall is a window overlooking the streets. This is probably one of the last places in Gotham that’s not trashed. This deal doesn’t seem so bad now. If I die at least it will be in a fraction of luxury.

“Please remove your boots. I don’t want dirt in here.” Crane sits down at the kitchen table. “Feel free to shower. I’m going to review some paperwork.”

“Do you have any food?”

He lifts his eyes with an expression that screams dry sarcasm. “Are you joking?”

I shrug. “I mean, it wouldn’t hurt. If you want I can try to dig up some scraps somewhere.”

“I would rather wait for the few provisions I receive than die of food poisoning from whatever excuse for food is lying in a waste bin.”

“Suit yourself.”

I walk over to an open door and discover the bathroom. It’s tiny and cramped but the sight of the bathtub makes my heart sing. Only a single bar of soap and a man’s razor sits on the counter. I lock the door and turn the knob on. Am I imagining the hot water? I haven’t had a proper bath in months!

As I strip away my filthy clothes I grimace at seeing all the grime and dirt accumulated on my skin. We are all living like animals. What exactly is the upside to this anarchy? Earlier today I saw people cheering for this ‘revolution’ but it’s completely, well, stupid!

The tub starts filling up and I step into the steamy water, sinking into bliss. Oh God. All the aches in my muscles melt away and my head feels fuzzy. I slip deeper under the water, feeling my body come back to life. Over the roar of the facet and blurred vision from the water I nearly scream underwater when I see something move above the surface.

I choke down a gulp of water and thrash upwards, gripping the side of the tub in an attempt to cover myself. Dr. Crane, my new roommate, is kneeling right next to me!

“Does the water clear your head?” he asks simply, his eyes subtly darting up and down across my skin. “Such beauty.”

“What the Hell?!” I screech. “Get out!”

“The lock doesn’t work on this door.” He nonchalantly points to it. Then he looks at me again with cold-hearted eyes. “I could have killed you just now. Nice and easy. All I have to do is hold you under for four to six minutes, maybe even not that much.”

I want to move away but then he’d see me. Or at least more of what he’s already seen. I knew it! I knew he’s too much of a bastard to not leave me alone! But did I listen to the red flags? No!

“Why not, then?” I hiss. “Are you waiting to see me shot against a wall like all the others?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Would be a shame to waste a gorgeous specimen such as yourself.”

I eye one of the knives hidden under my pants and I swipe it. Crane doesn’t seem concerned. So he would rather risk getting massacred to see me naked?

“Watch your tongue, Crane. With the stunt you just pulled I might cut it out.”

He stands up and reaches for something in the closet. Instead of looking unamused or creepy, Crane’s still looking at me as one examines a piece of art. What the Hell does he plan to do now-?

“I don’t kid about something like that, Calico,” Jonathan says in a serious tone and hands me a gray towel.

Without another word he exits the bathroom and closes the door, leaving me alone again. What the Hell just happened?

General POV

He was right. But then of course, anyone could guess. Dr. Prentiss is as gorgeous as she is deadly. That’s all he wanted to see. If Dr. Crane is going to die then at least he will have gotten to know the woman who’s captured his mind. And by know, he means see her. All of her.

One’s first thought might be that his stunt was very inappropriate and downright creepy. But that’s what happens when you combine an insane man with potential death. The second Dr. Crane leaves the flabbergasted woman he retreats to the table and grips it with white knuckles.

What now? He might only have weeks to live until someone screws up and the whole city is blown sky high. How is a man who’s supposed to only praise fear possibly tell a woman he loves her? Perhaps this fear has been hiding in his subconscious all along. Besides, why would she ever accept him after all he’s put her through?

Calico’s POV

What the actual Hell? Did he just pop in and leave? I’m still huddled against the tub, staring at where the doctor of fear just left. He could have killed me. His voice said yes but his eyes said no. Has Jonathon really cracked?

And those blue eyes still haunt me. Never in my whole life has anyone looked at me with such… fascination. Not through sexual desire or possession, no. Like I was important. A goddess. Or maybe I’m just as delusional as Dr. Crane. As confident of myself as I seem, I am also confident in the fact that love is not in the cards for me. If my hallucinated feelings for Jonathon were spoken then I’d be his next victim of ridicule. God, how am I supposed to face him after that?

I use the towel to dry off and reach for my leggings- Oh. He left me some of his clothes. A dark shirt and a pair of pants. Since when did Dr. Crane start acting so- So… humane? The pants are too long but I put them on anyway and roll them up. As much as I want to go out unnoticed there’s no way to. The second I open the door he’ll be watching from the desk. But I can’t stay camped in this bathroom. I have to face him again. I shouldn’t let myself be embarrassed.

The door creaks open and sure enough Dr. Crane is sitting across the room. He makes no move to acknowledge me as I tiptoe to the couch. Maybe we can all forget about it and try to have a somewhat normal evening in anarchy-

“You do have a nice figure, by the way.”

Or not. God, this is a conundrum. Do I slap him? Do I kiss him? Make the best of both worlds and say thank you?

I sink into the cushions and tilt my head back, eyes shut. “Shut it, Crane. Not now.”

Floorboards creak behind me. “Tired?”

That’s a question with many answers. “My feet are basically dead. Yes, I’m tired. Now unless you’re going to apologize for earlier then please- What are you doing?”

My eyes snap open when I feel cold hands touch my feet. Jonathan’s moved from the desk and is sitting on the chair across from me. What is this whacko’s plan? And why does he have to look so charming while doing it?

“I think it’s obvious,” he answers smoothly. “I’m curing the pain in your feet.”

I huff. “Ugh. If I weren’t so tired I’d kick you-” He twists my foot and it feels like my muscles are melting. “Oh my God.”

My eyes shut again and I hear Crane chuckle. “If you like this you should see what else I can do with my hands.”

I half-heartedly kick his shoulder. “Don’t ruin the moment. I’m just starting to like you.”

“Oh really?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s on standards of professional intentions. If you want a better explanation then read your goodbye letter.”

“The-? Oh. That one.”

Yes, that one. Whatever happened to ‘do not mistake my words as intentions of romantic interest?’ Now all of a sudden he’s treating me like an actual friend.

General POV

Damn. She still remembers the note. Crane mentally slaps himself for letting his emotions get too deep. Why did he have to write that? Because it was proof he didn’t care. But in reality it was a lie to himself.

What does he do now? What was he thinking? This is Gotham. What did he expect? That they’d have a normal life in a cozy home away from the prying cops? No. As desperate as Dr. Crane is, the only thing he can always rely on is fear. Constant, possessive fear. And the fear clinging to him now is the fear of losing Calico.

Calico’s POV

Okay, I’m starting to worry. Jonathan’s been staring at the floor for a solid five minutes.

“Has the stress of your job gone to your head?”

Crane finally blinks out of his trance and stands up to look out the window; a response like he’s avoiding the plague. Is he really this psychotic? Maybe it’s all the death surrounding the city. People express thoughts of death through crying, sudden rage, and blank confusion. Personality changes can also occur and sometimes permanent changes can affect a person’s life and the people around them. Of course, that makes perfect sense. Crane was already insane and I was on my way to join him. Now we’re both damaged.

“If you’re going to spy on me while I’m bathing and then completely ignore me then I’m leaving. There’s enough chaos in Gotham already.”

I start to move but suddenly Dr. Crane strides back over and towers over me; almost like he’s trapping me.

“You still remember being a doctor, right? To have a normal routine?” His blue eyes stare straight at me and he gets a devious smirk. “Humor me, Dr. Prentiss.”

I purse my lips and try to think of a sincere answer for his unsuspected question, never taking my eyes off him. Normal? Can normal even exist for me anymore? I’m not the same person now. When I think of my old job all I can think about is how corrupt people can be. How empty I felt after my parent’s death. A feeling I kept putting off. A feeling as if… I’ll always be alone.

“A normal routine is out of the question,” I respond. “I’m not a doctor anymore. All I want is- It doesn’t matter now.”

Jonathan crosses his arms and tilts his head in consideration, fingering his glasses. “Fascinating. You’ve progressed through fears of failure and love. You didn’t want to fail, and then you were afraid of accepting love. Now you’re afraid of being alone.”

I scoff. “How is that possible? I’ve always been alone. Unless..."

Crane notices my hesitation. “Unless what?”

Now I don’t want to be without you.

“Ah, I see.” I hear him take a breath and look up to see him with a certain look. Like a professor who knows all the answers.

I try hard to conceal my panic. “You do?”

“Your body language says it all. Unsteady breathing, dilated pupils, avoiding direct eye contact. Caught some feelings for me, Dr. Prentiss? A case of lovesickness?”

Really? I didn’t notice those symptoms. I’ve never loved before so how would I know? Or perhaps victims of love aren’t supposed to notice. Either way I’m done for.

I sink deeper into the cushions and hang my head to hide my pink blush.

“Just leave me alone.” My voice is so small.

“No, no. This experiment has proven to be quite entertaining.” Experiment?! “How has your mind twisted itself into thinking you’re in love with me?”

An experiment. I should have known all of this was just a damn charade! I want to scream at him but my body betrays me by making me shake with stress. Instead of boiling with rage the emotion that tugs me most is disappointment in myself. In the end I’m still the same pathetic child trying to please everyone.

“I didn’t want love,” I whisper, staring at my lap. “But now I’m afraid of being alone for the rest of my life. That’s the problem. And if you think that’s childish then go laugh elsewhere. I’m not in the mood for anymore jokes.”

“You… You fear being alone?”

Strange. Dr. Crane’s tone almost sounds empathetic. Soft and vulnerable. I don’t look up to face him but do not object when he sits down in the chair across from me.

I nod. “Many women my age are already dating, married, or having kids. Soon I’ll hit 30 and watch my life slip away.” I grunt a half-hearted chuckle. “Go ahead, laugh. I’m only waiting for the day I die so God can deal with me. The gruesome Reaper.”

A few seconds tick by before I hear: “Don’t assume so quickly.”

My eyes flicker up to see Jonathon staring at me with the same vulnerable expression. “Come again?”

General POV

Luck does exist! Crane cannot believe the words he’s just heard. Not only does Dr. Prentiss love him but also of her own free will! It was close. He almost slipped and told her he loves her. The rage in her eyes when he mentioned this was all an experiment did hurt. Deeply. However, the stubborn doctor would rather have her confess first rather than him. The question now is how does he expect her to stay with him?

Calico’s POV

Crane doesn’t answer. Instead he stands up and walks to another door. One I assume is the bedroom door. He turns the knob and doesn’t turn around to look at me.

“You can have my bed if you wish. Or if you’d rather have the couch-”

“Jonathon.” That shuts him up. “Why are you doing this?”

He stiffens up. Almost like I just slapped him.

“Maybe tomorrow one of us will know,” he mutters and shuts the door.

A heavy feeling of recognition and sadness drains through me. Maybe my clinical skills are a tad dusty but I know that look on his face. He’s confused as well. Each of us have never gone through… whatever this is. I guess we both have different ways of interpreting it.

My mind is torn between overthinking and craving deep sleep. For the first time in weeks I’m on a clean mattress with a roof over my head that does not leak. This is probably the most ‘normal’ I can experience. As I toss and turn in the unfamiliar dark room I can’t help but wonder if Jonathon is thinking the same thing.

6 notes · View notes

maple-the-awesome · 1 year ago

Text

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 28

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 3,252

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

Series Masterlist 🤎 Marvel Masterlist 🤎 Fandom Masterlist

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: LEFT ON READ

You hate the sun and its terrible habit of waking you up every morning. Sure, it can be a nice natural alarm when you want to walk up early, but believe it or not, sometimes you actually like sleeping in, especially after such an...'eventful' night.

You're not entirely certain what the exact time is right now. The sun's light appears relatively dim, so it must be sunrise or at least no later than seven. Normally, you'd have plenty of time to be lazy then if this were one of your days off, however prior promises were unfortunately made, requiring your presence elsewhere during the youngest hours of today.

Now while half of you is tempted to become conveniently forgetful of such arrangements, you're also aware that doing so would be a dangerous game. You have a perfect record of being trustworthy, thus your absences would no doubt cause concern. Concern leads to questions and questions lead to investigations which may produce rather embarrassing results in the case that anyone were to stumble across you in this position: completely nude aside from a thin comforter draped over half your body with an equally compromised man lying fast asleep beside you. What a meaningless yet annoying scandal that could cause particularly if your poor brother were to find out. He'd likely have a heart attack once realizing his dear little sister carries more of that troubling Stark charm than he anticipated.

It's a struggle to make a proper decision: roll the dice or play it safe? Honestly, you could go for either the more you dwell here. You do adore how peaceful Bucky looks as he sleeps, his lips slightly parted for each breath and hair not as neatly maintained as he typically keeps it (although your fingers might be to blame for that).

Come to think of it, this is the first time you've ever seen him in such a vulnerable state. You've fallen asleep around him before, usually after long nights waiting at the lab, however there's never been a situation where he has risked drifting off himself. Forever the gentleman, Bucky would refuse any overnight stays at your apartment, fussing over how 'inappropriate' it would be and how 'rumors would swirl', but you've longed deciphered that glimmer of desire in his eyes during each of those conversations. Although a gentleman, he's still a man completely infatuated with his gal. All he needed was a little push - a reminder that the feeling is very much mutual meaning there's no reason for dancing around the bush.

There was no hidden motivation or even a plan, in fact you're not hundred percent sure why things went the way they did last night. Perhaps you wanted to express your relief over your boyfriend having survived his latest dangerous mission. Maybe it was because of those drinks at the bar and how well they paired with Bucky's flirtatious whispers against your ear. Or it could've simply been something you've put off for far too long until you were no longer strong enough to set aside the temptations you feel everyday with this man you consider yourself so lucky to have...That would be a very suitable explanation...

To put it short, you had a veeery good night. Bucky didn't leave any question as to how much he loves you, reminding you more times than you could count between each pant and moan. The bliss remains even now, lingering in your thoughts as you finally make up your mind and cuddle closer to his sleeping form. Fuck working in a lab or training for another mission. You've both sacrificed so much for this damn world already, the least it can do is give you these seconds in return; to let you soak up this joy and hope for the future.

You can't wait to finally be wed, almost tempted to just jump the gun yet again by waking Bucky up and dragging him down to the nearest courthouse. Surely, he'd have no true objections, after all, the sooner he can call you his wife, the sooner you can both drop this act of pretending you can actually survive even a second without each other nearby at all times.

...If you had gone with your heart then, would anything have changed? You often find yourself overthinking that sort of stuff especially during the mornings where you just stare up at your ceiling feeling particularly empty inside. If you had married Bucky sooner, would he have been more careful? If you begged enough, would he have even gone that day? Hell, in your worst moments, you whimper at the thought of never having existed as (Y/n) in that case. Assuming that your purpose for remembering Hollie is to be with Bucky, maybe there wouldn't have been any need for it had you accomplished the task in the 40's...Although, anymore, you're convinced that isn't the actual purpose for these cursed, lingering memories...

If your regrets from the past make you feel bad, then thinking about (Y/n)'s exact purpose makes you feel even worse. Are you sure you're meant to be with Bucky romantically? It doesn't seem like the universe is setting that up. Him 'dying', you actually dying, all the current turmoil between (Y/n) and him now...sometimes you're convinced you were never meant to be his lover, in this life or Hollie's. Maybe you're just supposed to make amends somehow or maybe this is all just some cruel game life's playing to torture you; the universe didn't expect you to find Bucky again and now it's punishing you for changing destiny's course.

Your thoughts wander so far that you almost miss the sound of your phone buzzing in the corner. Turning away from the window you've been mindlessly staring out of for the last hour, you place your coffee mug on the table and exchange it with the device.

"...Hey."

"Wow. Nice to see that someone actually answers their phone," If only Sam knew you just spent a few seconds debating whether to pick up or not.

"Yeah, I've noticed that when your friend group consists largely of 'superheroes', they're usually pretty difficult to get a hold of. You just happened to call the one normal person with no social life," It's said as a joke, although deep down, it doesn't feel like one, "What's wrong? You piss everyone else off?"

"No...just Bucky apparently. He's been ignoring me like some kind of plague. 'won't call back or nothing."

"Welcome to the club," You roll your eyes bitterly while reaching for your mug again.

"He's ignoring you, too?" The annoyance from Sam's voice is dropped and quickly replaced with genuine surprise, "How'd that come about? You guys are practically attached to the hip from what I've seen! Even when a whole ocean apart, weren't you guys always going on 'Zoom dates' or something? Hell, I think you were making Steve jealous there, stealing his best friend..."

Sam trails off slightly and you imagine he visibly cringes over having brought up the topic. While he doesn't quite know exactly how you feel about it, he does remember how awfully distant you were after Steve went back in time. Rumor even has it that you both had an argument over the matter (not that Sam was eavesdropping or anything). Since then, he's avoided mentioning Steve around you. The way he sees it, if he's been having a hard time with the changes that came with your mutual friend's decisions, surely you're still feeling the burn yourself. You did know Cap a lot longer than himself.

Fortunately, you don't react openly to the topic nor do you comment on it much to Sam's relief. You merely focus on his previous line of questioning instead, "We're, uh...on break at the moment, I suppose you could say."

"Damn...What happened?" It's probably not his place to ask, seeing as neither of you have spoken much in the months following the Snap, however he can't ignore his own curiosity and worry.

Sam might not like Bucky and admittedly, he's never had the chance to properly befriend you seeing that your paths usually only cross when your lives are in danger, but he'd be a fool not to see how whipped the two of you have always seemed for each other, in fact last he hear through the grapevine, you were practically living together with some of your other friends placing bets on whether you're supposed to be secretly married or not. With that said, it's concerning to learn your relationship has apparently fallen apart within such a short amount of time.

You inhale through your nose heavily, finally bothered by one of his questions, although you don't completely shy away from it. You just take your time answering while fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, "...Steve...told you about all the Hollie stuff...right?"

"...Bucky...I'm Holiday Stark..."

Your blood feels cold, body shaking even as you force yourself to maintain eye contact with him, desperately yet hopelessly wishing you could read his mind since his outward reaction gives you so little to work with.

He doesn't mock amusement like Natasha did. He doesn't get angry like Steve. He doesn't show increasing annoyance like Tony...He stares. He simply stares at you, eyes difficult to decipher, although that slight tremble of his lips and the whimper-like sound that he tries unsuccessfully to swallow aren't.

"...J-James?" You're beginning to panic, realizing just how sick he suddenly appears - face pale and blank with shock. This is exactly what you were afraid of. Regardless of his promises, those vows were spoken while believing you to be someone you're not - someone truthful and perfect. Until now, you've only been (Y/n), a life that brought upon no complicated feelings nor gave him any reason to look twice. In his eyes, mere seconds ago, you could do nothing to change that perspective, however it turns out he was just lacking the proper imagination to understand a scenario where you could...the same scenario you've landed yourselves in now.

When Bucky drops your hand - one you forgot he was holding given how limp his grip had gone - a wave of emotions overtake you before you can push them away again.

At first glance, you’ve always seemed good at playing things off and pretending you’re unfazed, a ‘picture of maturity’, as some have said. It helps that you’re usually able to sweet talk yourself out of stuff, utilizing that Stark-charm to either leave everyone speechless or on your side, but for some reason your mouth feels dry and your brain fuzzy. You felt this way when letting the others in on your secret, but not to this extent. Staring back at Bucky, feeling your world of lies and secrets crumble down on top of you in a crushing weight, you feel too terrified to think because deep down, despite all this ‘incredible’ reincarnation stuff, you’re still just an ordinary human who’s scared shitless to lose the one thing who makes you feel just that: human.

"I-I can prove it! Ask me anything! Ask me any question only Hollie could answer - something only she'd know a-and I'll know it, too! I swear! Bucky, I promise. You know me. I'd never lie about anything like this! I'd never do anything to hurt you -!" You cry in an avalanche of words moving so quickly that you can barely keep track of them. You reach towards his hand, called to feel comfort by his touch again like an injured child would their mothers, yet he pushes himself away, inching further towards the other end of the couch until his back hits the arm. With him, he takes your shattered heart.

"...I believe you," He whispers after a moment, although his voice isn't consoling. He spits out the claim while actively avoiding eye contact, his primary focus being on that silver ring around your finger which always seems fond of taunting him by the way it so easily catches in the light.

...He knew when he first saw it. He would know that ring anywhere. It wasn't yours - at least that's immediately what he had thought back then. 'That's Hollie's ring,' he wanted to point out, perhaps even demand it back. That's his doll's ring - the only one he thought was worthy of being on her finger. To him, it was only ever a design, but after HYDRA, Bucky had made sure to research Hollie’s life and countless pictures of her proved she had the ring made exactly as he had imagined it. It looked identical to the one you wear.

He thought he was going crazy, yet it still kept him up for nights afterwards, wondering what excuses could explain its location on your finger, in the twenty-first century no less. You could’ve found it or perhaps Steve gave it to you as a gift. Sometimes Bucky even felt nauseous at the thought that maybe - just maybe - you were a descendant of Hollie. She didn’t remarry (he checked), but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have had lovers. Hell, it wasn’t like he was entirely out of the question himself. They did...do it together, not to mention he was never quite certain what your relationship with Tony was.

…Of course, none of those reasons felt quite right. As upset as he may be with Steve, Bucky doesn’t believe he’d give anyone a version of Hollie’s ring at least without approval first. He asked you about your relationship with Tony once, breathing in a sigh of relief when you confirmed Stark to be a friend after only some hesitation Bucky didn’t second guess at the time because in that moment, he’d rather gloss over such a detail and just be thankful he hasn’t been attracted to his grandchild or anything like that this whole time.

Bucky never asked you. He never even drew attention to the ring while in your presence aside from sometimes letting his thumb run over it when holding hands or cuddling. He decided to conclude that maybe he wasn’t that original after all and that a very similar design was later made for the general public. It had nothing to do with Hollie. It was just a coincidence he didn’t need to bother you with. That was the extent of Bucky’s investigative thinking which makes him feel incredibly stupid now.

This whole time…Nine years…For nine fucking years, it’s been you. All those complex and private details you knew about his life - things even he couldn’t remember himself. The way you always seemed so comfortable around him as if you were facing a dear friend, not a monstrous killer. How close Steve and Tony were to you. Your smile and laughter...Your weird yet adorable habits…Your bad habits…Your jokes…Your manner of speaking…Your manner of teasing…Your eyes…It always felt so familiar - like looking into the past through warped glass yet never did Bucky think in a million years it would be you - that it would be Hollie looking back at him the whole damn time.

“...Bucky please…P-Please just talk to me,” You plead in a whimper, your hands frozen in front of you as you struggle to decide how to address this. In fairy tales, this would be the joyful moment everyone’s been waiting for. Two lovers reunite against all odds before living happily ever after together, but this is real life. Perhaps fairy tale endings happen occasionally for those lucky folks the universe actually likes, but for you - for (Y/n) and Hollie - you’ve never known what that kind of ending could feel like. You’ve only ever been given teasing tastes of it just to be led down a dark hole to moments like this - moments of heartache.

“I…I need to go.”

You suck in a breath when Bucky suddenly stands straight, your entire body feeling as if it’s going through its own personal earthquake, “O-Okay…Okay, um…I’ll, uh, I-I’ll just give you some sp-space then…”

Your voice squeaks and you try to sniff, yet that does nothing to stop the burning in your nose nor the tears in your eyes. You curse yourself for crying in front of him, still more concerned about what kind of guilt it might give him rather than worrying about your own emotions…Maybe because you’ve long convinced yourself that you deserve it and that you’re used to it…

Bucky hesitates there, almost looking down at you, however he knows by your sniffle that if he does that, this will only be made a lot harder for you both. So, with hurried footsteps, he slips on his boots and leaves the apartment in silence aside from the slam of the door, the whirling of the box fan, and your cries that soon break through.

"...Do you think I'm crazy Sam?"

"Yes," His answer is prompt, although his voice grows soft for the next part, "You gotta admit, it's an insane story: 'Girl who was somehow magically reborn with all her past memories eventually meets her past life's boyfriend and BOOM! They're in love in this life, too!' …Sounds like a bad fanfiction."

“I don’t know if you can say we're ‘in love’ anymore…At least not mutually…” You mumble dejectedly before groaning and running a hand over your face, "...I should've never gotten involved with him - with anyone for that matter. It would've been easier for them all if Hollie just stayed dead instead of forcing them to dig her back up again -”

"- Now I wouldn't necessarily say that. Sure, it’s probably not the easiest pill to swallow initially, I mean, I saw firsthand how pissy Steve was around you that day, but didn’t you see how happy he was afterwards? Put yourself in his shoes. He was torn away from the life he knew best into the modern century with basically nothing until you came along. You were his friend then - someone who could understand fairly well what he had to go through. Your relationship was special because of that. I reckon it was the same for Stark. He had to have been pretty little when Hollie died, right? I don't know about him, but if my aunt was murdered, I'd want some form of closure. No better way to get that than her showing up in a different life, happy and safe."

Sam has a point. Tony mentioned the guilt he had suffered for years thinking it was somehow his fault Hollie died. Coming back as (Y/n), you were able to assure him how much you’ve always loved him and how he wasn’t at fault for what happened. He never avoided the topic of his late aunt again and threw a huge birthday party for himself the next year…

"Do me a favor and try not to beat yourself up over this too much, alright? We've already gone through enough shit as it is. I'm sure Bucky will come around eventually like Steve and Tony did, just give him some time for it to sink in. It's a lot to come to terms with, after all, especially probably for him of all people. You were...you know?"

You nod as if Sam could see it, “...I just hope he doesn't take too long, not for my sake, but for his own. Bucky isn't like Steve or Tony. He isn't the type to simply walk away and let stuff roll off his shoulders either. He's overthinking this - I know he is. He’s letting it dig into him like he's done something wrong when all of the blame is mine alone. I’m the one who lied to him. I’m the one who kept this a secret…I wish he could just understand that…”

NEXT CHAPTER ->

<- PREVIOUS CHAPTER

14 notes · View notes

nalyra-dreaming · 1 year ago

Note

hello!! I just rewatched Daybreakers and now I can't stop thinking about what Louis would do if he had the chanto to get a cure from vampirism...

what debates would he have with himself? how would this affect his relationship with Lestat and the others?

(I'm throwing this at you for you to elaborate, I love you <3

Hey!

*hugs* 💕

Hmmmm, difficult. :) (Oh, yeah, Daybreakers, I remember!)

I think... it depends on which "Louis" we're talking about, and in which "phase".

Because Louis' journey over the books is as complicated one as Lestat's (and I'm quite sure it will be over the show as well), and... I do think his stance on a cure would change. And it depends heavily on what the cure entails, too.

So, for the sake of the argument let's assume it's "cure for vampirism aka Louis becoming mortal again", with no extra powers, no body switching necessary, no magic. Just the transformative properties of the Dark Gift gone.

The Louis after leaving NOLA, pre Claudia's death, still very much in the Rite of Passage might have taken it, I think. Book and show, though the show made clear that Louis knows Lestat didn't die then, so that complicates things.

But he suffers from what he is, and what he must do to survive. He does not like the price he has to pay. The Dark Gift didn't free him in the way Lestat promised, how could it, and the killing is of course something that tears at his soul.

If he would have been offered a cure, I think he would have taken it and tried to make Claudia take it, too. (That might have failed, but that is another discussion^^) I think he would have seen it as a second chance. Show Louis, with the knowledge of Lestat surviving, might even have gone back and tried to give it to Lestat... and, all things considered, I'm not 100% sure Lestat wouldn't have taken it then, either, in that situation. He tried to become mortal again in later books after all.

The Louis post Claudia's death... no. Unlikely. He was "dead" then, for a long while, and he went on because he could not not. I think he saw it as a form or punishment, mixed with vicious survivor's guilt, and the sheer trauma of Paris. Show Louis called Claudia his redemption, and ... I think a cure would have been seen as a redemption as well and as such... clashing with what happened to Claudia, if that makes sense.

Dubai Louis, later books Louis (TtotBT)... does not want the cure. He wants release. I think Louis is in a state of chronic depression then, likening his state to a purgatorial one in the books, from which not even becoming mortal would free them. (Which then culminates in the Merrick events.)

"This is purgatory we're in, you and I. All we can be is thankful that it isn't actually hell."

And then... after Merrick.... in the "resentment phase" I think he would have been tempted. Because he is not "able" to die then anymore, not by conventional means at least. And that in and by itself is a very daunting prospect of course, and the cure would have been another get-out-of-jail card he could have taken...

But I think Louis, deep, deep down... didn't want to die then anymore. He'd been there, done that, did not go into the light.

He stayed. And so, despite being tempted, and viciously so, and maybe even having gone to beg Lestat (or maybe even Armand) to come and argue with them to be mortal with him once more... I think he would not have taken it. But I can see them arguing about it, viciously. The temptation would have been there, but too much had happened then already.

And in the end... around the Prince Lestat era and Blood Communion?

No. Then, not anymore. He has made his peace then, has found his family, his place. Has found himself. He would not wish to lose all that.

So... it depends, I think. :)

Despite everything Louis likes the power and his life and the status it affords him, too. He just, for the longest time, does not like the price. And he needs to come to terms with the realities of it, because he... chose it.

He was not forced into it, and that weighs heavily on him, especially with the more sobering realizations of it not being the freedom he hoped for or was promised. And the realities of the relationships not being what he expected them to be, either.

Louis' choice of his state of being weighs into his choice of taking the cure... and in a way his conscience is too... pure, too clean for him to take it, if that makes sense. He will choose the suffering (until he has accepted), because he chose this life.

Saint Louis.

Or to quote a (bitingly rakish) Lestat here:

"But then he is so good at grieving! He wears woe as others wear velvet; sorrow flatters him like the light of candles; tears become him like jewels."

PS: I didn't delve too deep into "debates with himself" here, because... that's fanfic level of delving, too long for tumblr, imho :))) I'm tempted to write it all out though, so... maybe^^.

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #iwtv louis #louis de pointe du lac #beautiful one #cure #speculation #daybreakers #book quotes

12 notes · View notes

tonydaddingham · 1 year ago

Note

Longwinded anon again (thanks for the kind words!): You've brought out a few things in your last posts that crystalized some of my thoughts about the hole I complained about in one of my first posts here, left by the decision to never acknowledge that Crowley successfully tempts Aziraphale to try to kill the Antichrist. After S1 aired, Gaiman commented in an interview that Crowley does not have an actual character arc in S1. He is at the end what he was at the beginning. And my response at the time was, well, wait, he does have a transformative moment in the novel, this is strange. I think S2 in fact explores that lack of arc in an interesting way, and it /does/ think about the larger moral issues involved in the Antichrist temptation without referencing it directly.

Both S1 and S2 rely heavily on mirroring, included warped mirroring, to approach narrative structure and character development. In S1, after Aziraphale's discorporation, Crowley tries to reconstruct their normal dynamic--Crowley plays the white knight, Aziraphale the damsel in distress--on his arrival at the airfield, when he swaggers over from the burning Bentley and assures Aziraphale that he'll take care of the soldier ("Leave it to me"). Then the script /literally/ blows up the dynamic when the Bentley explodes, Crowley gets distracted, and Aziraphale has to take care of the soldier himself. And, of course, at the end the dynamic has been altered, because they save each other in the bodyswap. This looks like the relationship is now on a mutual egalitarian footing! Hooray!

...except S2 demonstrates that Crowley /liked/ the original dynamic, and he spends the season trying to manhandle (demonhandle?) Aziraphale back into it. Aziraphale asks for help with Gabriel, but Crowley interprets "help" as an excuse to play the strong protector again, through a combination of forced innocence (Crowley spends this season /not/ telling Aziraphale some important things about Gabriel and Heaven that Aziraphale needed and deserved to know) and, in the lead-up to the demon attack, outright dismissiveness of Aziraphale's ability to handle the situation. You referenced the dialogue there, which mirrors the "Leave it to me" of S1. But in S1, Aziraphale /was/ willing to leave it to Crowley, whereas here Aziraphale tries to assert his own capability and Crowley brushes it off. Nina, the character self-aware about being trapped in an abusive situation, temporarily stops the plot to call this out, and while Aziraphale cheerfully admits to being aware of what's going on (something left ambiguous in S1), unlike Nina he doesn't admit or doesn't see that what makes Crowley "happy" rests on perceiving Aziraphale as less capable and less powerful. Both physically (Aziraphale needs Crowley to fight for him) and psychologically (Aziraphale needs Crowley to protect him from full knowledge of his execution and from any knowledge that Heaven might murder him for helping Gabriel). I know that the fanfic community has quickly glommed onto "Aziraphale must apologize to the poor wronged demon" plots, but Crowley's inability to think himself out of this inegalitarian dynamic contributes directly to the break-up at the end of ep6, not least because we see him /help/ maintain Aziraphale's innocence about the extent of Heaven's malice.

good morning (well, it was morning when i started) LWA!!!✨ no problem at all, you're very welcome!!!

(further ask screenshots under the cut).

oh gosh yes i remember the ask you mean (everyone else, i believe it's this one). stating the obvious, if my previous posts criticising him are anything to go by, but the whole scene where crowley tempts aziraphale re: antichrist really does unnerve me, and was one of the key reasons why I think - although I do genuinely think crowley is a very empathetic character - i've always gravitated to aziraphale more. the parallel narrative of nina, with her story of surviving and escaping psychological and emotional abuse, really puts the spotlight on the level of aziraphale's naivety and indoctrination with anyone or anything that he believes confers any kind of worth onto him.

trauma from abuse does not stop when one escapes it, because it truly does alter your brain chemistry and emotional make-up into being more susceptible to finding any alternative that will give you a sense of value again. others have clearly remarked on it, but that is the most revelatory moment as concerns nina, for me; her knowledge of self and that she knows her own value, despite her recent abusive experience, is what diverts her parallel storyline with maggie into an adjacent position to aziraphale and crowley's.

and that's a really powerful point; i know that many people have remarked on the correlation between aziraphale and religious brainwashing (especially as concerns its relationship to queer identity, which is very, very valid), but i think what some may be refusing to also see is that aziraphale, in a very unique and particular way, is potentially experiencing some small, or large depending on your perspective, level of similar abusive behaviour (bracing myself for impact re: that statement).

i despair for aziraphale throughout most of the show, in that i interpret him as not only feeling that he's not enough ("that's okay, as long as i'm enough for crowley to see any worth in me") but also because he can't seem to see that anyone that wholly cares about him should be making him feel that he is more than enough, and accepting of every part of him - even his shortcomings. he shouldn't need to be manipulated into anything; he is by large an inherently good and loving person (as far as we've been shown), is shown to gravitate towards those that might need his help (*cough* crowley), and that the fact that he can't seem to see that if others do not trust or like him enough to be honest and vulnerable with him, when he hasn't really done anything to make them believe that they can't, that is entirely their issue/failing, not his.

such, to me, is why his decision to break away and follow his own path to heaven, following an opportunity to do something not only largely altruistic but also something that might help him develop a sense of value entirely on his own, is exactly the right decision for him to make when taking all of this emotional and psychological context into consideration.

as discussed in the last ask, crowley does appear to have a tendency for making aziraphale seem or feel lesser than him, by way of the dance (humiliation), disingenuous apologies (gaslighting), keeping secrets (imbalanced power dynamic) and constantly saving him and dismissing his ability to save himself (removing agency). crowley in contrast to aziraphale has his own brand of insecurity but that is in my opinion not rooted in a lack of self-worth. it is rooted in knowing that he had and has much to give, but it being rejected.

i hate to defer to psychological terminology that is innately human when referring to supernatural beings, but for lack of a better option; crowley's cognitive dissonance in ep6 of his belief ("helping to improve heaven is useless and they'll never change") and his action (manipulates aziraphale into trying to stay with him, ignoring aziraphale's own wants and aspirations) result in his choosing to believe that aziraphale doesn't love him for who he is - choosing the rejection narrative - rather than choosing to trust in aziraphale that they have the ability, together, to make a change that will benefit them as much as everyone else (which is what aziraphale is inviting him to).

the fact that this is rooted in rejection is key. i think it's fairly clear that crowley thinks himself to be of a higher status than aziraphale, harking back to his angel era (or at least purposefully tries to maintain the illusion that he is, rather than accept that they're - you know - equal). the overwhelming need, it seems, to plough on ahead and force aziraphale to keep pace with him whether he likes it or not, speaks to me of his committing to a 'failsafe' action that will protect him from being rejected, regardless of whatever good or clever thing he does, and this will naturally originate from the fall. as you say, aziraphale is similarly wrapped up in asserting his own superiority, especially where morality is concerned and thinking that he knows best for crowley in offering him restoration, but again - I feel like this stems from insecurity, especially in the face of a demon that is, to him, utterly brilliant and smart and sly, but also good and kind and brave.

neither are in the right - both are very much in the wrong - for even entertaining this mindset, but i do feel that once again crowley tips the scale on the morality front here. both were made to suffer from various trauma at the hands of heaven and hell, but the fact that crowley seems to perpetuate it with aziraphale (however much with original good intention, and perhaps without malicious intention) and so successfully to the point that aziraphale a) doesn't even really see it until ep6, and b) if aziraphale does see it, he possibly feels that it all that he deserves, is incredibly alarming.

in terms of a resolution, LWA✨, you've beaten me to the point i was going to make when your first ask came in! we are seeing two characters that were originally conceptualised as one, and now broken apart (both literally by way of the character design as well as in the narrative). i therefore find that the body swap in s1 was indeed the big hint to the audience (and should have been a big hint to aziraphale and crowley) that they are reflections of each other, and that is by extension the solution.

them simply forgiving each other and having meaningful communication is not going to be the Big Solution that makes them connect again. to me, there needs to be - after an actual, heartfelt apology and subsequent communication - a full, complete acceptance of each other, of their individual and conflicting minds, fears, wants, and ideologies, and understanding that they do not need, in fact, to be in conflict with each other, but instead are literally built as being complementary halves of the same coin✨

edit because i didn't address it: in my mind, my own personal, metaphorical jury is out on why the joint miracle had the result that it did, but the concept of it being literally because it's aziraphale and crowley working in harmony together is really intriguing!!!

#good omens

11 notes · View notes

fandoomrants · 1 year ago

Text

Soo, some thoughts on ep 6 and the show in general...

Gotta say, it's pretty messy and random, so you're warned if you decide to read it. But I think my url says enough about me so...

Also:

Spoilers ahead!

- Kinda weird how Sabine really found Ezra so easily and for less than a day all by herself and Thrawn didn't know if he's alive, sure BUT here's what I think might be the case:

I think they might have had some sort of an arrangement. Like, I don't believe Thrawn didn't have the resources and ways to find him, even if he had tried to hide. But also, Ezra and "his friends" are moving often but it didn't look like they were on the run. So, I believe that they had some agreement not to interfere with each other's ... doings and all. Like, yes, Thrawn sent the "mercenaries" after Sabine and told them to end them but it wasn't like he directly tried to interfere. It's same thing as how he seemingly helped Sabine and send her to find him. He just twisted the situation. So it could be something like that. Also, notice how Ezra didn't once mention Thrawn when he saw Sabine, didn't mention there's a threat or anything? I mean, sure he must know she's aware he would also be on the planet but if he thought of him as some threat, he would have probably said something.

-Still, Ezra was surprised by the...animal that Sabine came with. So, he either knows Thrawn and his people ride these, or he's tried to befriend one and it didn't work.

-On this topic, I don't exactly think Sabine's decision of not telling him how she found him was a bad decision on her side either. I believe she just really wanted to find him and she showed it, even though she took some... questionable decisions but honestly, for the people I care about, I would also do the same. She probably really thought Ashoka's dead or in any case, knew she couldn't really get out of this situation in any other way than eventually destroying the map and getting killed after that so she really had little to lose at this point. And the chance of seeing him again... I think it was tempting enough. Still, I'm pretty sure that wanting something and it actually happening are two different things so maybe she hadn't thought at all of how she would eventually explain it to him. Wasn't sure where she'll find him either. So, finally seeing him after 10 years, it's pretty logical she wouldn't want to spoil the moment by saying what she did too soon. But his "can't wait to go home" really hurt. Imagine how she's feeling. She doesn't even know Ashoka's on her way...

-Another thing. I'm pretty sure Ashoka's obviously going to survive and maybe find them soon but I think it's pretty clear that Thrawn will be returning with his new troopers and will play a bigger role in future productions. But I just can't help but wonder how they're gonna avoid him. Pretty sure they can't really fight him and his army. So, how are they getting out alive? And I really, really hope they're gonna ALL make it out alive, return and all of that...

-These troopers... We all agree they're some zombies or whatever, right?? Like, they can't be real people, where did they come from?

-Also, a very random thought but looks like Thrawn's ship is fixed? Does it not have the ability to get into hyperspace anymore or something? Like, what stopped him from leaving this place? (Might have been mentioned somewhere but I was too on edge so I must have skipped it.)

-Another thing that had me thinking. Skoll and Hati's exchanges this episodes were interesting. She looks a bit confused of what's going on but they spoke of the Order, she said "like me" while speaking how Ezra was trained to be a jedi out of it and all of that, yet he said they're not jedi. Also, they weren't detected as ones by the Night sisters unlike Sabine. Yet, not once did they call themselves anything different. Skoll only says something about "something better" or sth, and people have pointed out their sabers aren't exactly red, more like orange. Not sure about the last part but the thing is, they definitely not refer to themselves as Sith either. So, what are they really? Their clothes, her braid, they're also not typical for Sith.

-Also, I've seen a lot of people being angry at how some things about Thrawn from his book aren't mentioned and acknowledged. But hey, we just saw him actually show up. He was mentioned on the show before but it was all about how he might be alive, finding him, etc. Nothing much about him outside of that. Also, I don't think most of these things are even relevant to what's happening now. Now, it's all about him leaving the planet and this galaxy, finally. The question is, what then?

-Speaking of mentions though, like many other Rebels fans, I also wonder if Zeb is gonna be mentioned at any point. I think, just like what I already said about Thrawn's backstory, he's not really relevant to what's happening in this story right now (thought I'd love it if he showed up again at some point, maybe in later productions, hopefully reunited with some of the Ghost crew and his boyfriend/husband) . It's just that, even though it's basically a continuation of Rebels, the show is still called 'Ahsoka' and it's not Rebels season 5, she's already put to the side by other stories enough, and it doesn't seem like his presence now would be of any importance except for some small cameo in the last episode. But I still hope he gets at least mentioned, like Kanan was. Maybe in a conversation between Sabine and Ezra about what happened after he got pulled to another galaxy or something. Like, it's weird if nobody acknowledges him at all after all they've been through. Like, they were literally a found family and spend so many years together. I mention my friends all the time even if I haven't seen them in a while. And I think that based on the Mandalorian cameo, he must have had kept in touch at least with Hera.

-Hera... I hope we get to see her again, or at least get her mentioned in the last episode, and more importantly, what happened after she returned. Because there must be some consequences for what she did. Maybe if everyone sees Thrawn's return, it won't be too bad for her because it's going to prove her self-assigned mission wasn't pointless but they can't just leave her at "she might lose her job or worse" and never say anything again. At the very least, we have to see her and Ezra reunited too!

-Another thing about last episode. People seem to be so angry because of Ezra's hair. But idk, I think his hair was fine. The beard caught me a bit off guard and also, the eyes, though I hoped they'd be blue. Gotta admit, tho, these contacts are sorta creepy. But his animated version also had *very* blue eyes. But the hair... To me it was just made blue-ish to show it's very dark. Not sure if it makes sense but like, there's this shade of black that's almost blue when it comes to hair colors (admittedly, it's usually due to dye rather than natural black hair but still). So, in this sense, maybe it should have been darker. But I don't necessarily think it's such a big deal. Also, the actor just nailed him. He looks so much like the animated version, the way he talks and stands and all of that, his appearance altogether. Literally how I'd imagine him if he was in live action (again, except for the beard but he's not a teenager anymore so that's not so strange). So, the hair is a small detail. Also, the live action version of Jacen for example has such an odd hair that it almost makes me believe in some hcs from fans that Sabine would dye his hair to make him look more like his mother. It's very obviously dyed and I must admit, at first I didn't even notice it's green.

-Now, having mentioned these transitions from animated to live action versions, I really think by far Ezra and Thrawn are the ones that fully nail it. Don't get me wrong, I really like how all of them are portrayed and I think they've done a pretty good job with the casting (maybe really overdid it with these blue contacts and made some of them look a bit creepy. Hera didn't have that bright eyes). But a lot of debates have been going around about how some don't feel exactly like the animated versions, especially Ahsoka, Hera and Sabine too. And hear me out. That's been 10 years. They've grown up. They've been through a lot. Ahsoka was pulled from a dimension right before dying after having just fought her former Master. Hera's been dealing with the aftermaths of all that happened, plus taking care of a child on her own. Sabine's family is probably dead, and her found family is scattered all over the galaxy(/ies). They're much more mature now. So it's not so strange that they're not going to be the same as they were before, when they were in their early twenties/thirties. But Ezra... Ezra probably spent the last 10 years communicating only with those small aliens he befriended. He's also been through a lot and all but he literally had no idea of what's happening back where he came from, had no touch with any people, humanoids, or anything, for 10 years. So, he really looks like the animated version and acts like it but it might be because he didn't have the chance to fully grow? Not trying to say he's still with a teenager mind or anything but there are certain cycles of growth people usually go through and this is usually influenced by interactions with others and experience. And he didn't have the chance to get much of this. He probably spent the better part of these 10 years doing pretty much the same things. So, he's logically not so changed when it comes to behaviour.

-Anyway, that's a pretty philosophical take so I'll just end this with: People seem to have very different opinions on ships and especially Sabine and who they ship her with. I personally don't mind either ship, nor I'm fully opposed to them. Yet I think my ultimate ship would be everybody x therapy.

And finally, I'll stop here. This is really messy but I just had to let it all out somewhere. Also, sorry if there are typos, it's pretty long and I'm still excited but also tired.

#star wars #rant #ahsoka #rebels #ezra bridger #sabine wren

6 notes · View notes