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alexawynters · 1 year ago

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Scarlet Whispers - pt 2

Gif not mine

A/N: Not sure about the formatting, copy and paste didn't quite work out as planned. Title subject to change, not sure how I feel about it. This is my first published fic here so pls be gentle. Also I'm terrible at summaries.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Master list here

You miss your stop.

Not only do you miss your stop, but you end up all the way at the bus depot before the driver notices you passed out in one of the seats. The driver, a kindly older gentleman, offers to give you a lift home since it is the end of his shift anyway. He takes pity on you, perhaps due to your tired and sad appearance. Interestingly, no one seems to notice the red wisps behind his eyes.

You appreciate his kindness, but you are anxious about returning home. A quick look at your phone reveals that it is well past 6 PM and you have missed multiple calls and texts from both of your parents. This is not going to end well. In simple terms, you are fucked. Fortunately, the man doesn't seem to notice your restlessness as your leg bounces nervously as he gets closer to your home.

As you exit the vehicle, you politely thank him and offer to pay for the gas, but the man refuses. His accent changes slightly as he says, "anything to help." You shrug it off, as it is not your concern where people are from. Your focus is on more pressing matters. After closing the door, you square your shoulders and mentally prepare for the absolute shit show awaiting you as soon as you step through the front door.

It shouldn’t surprise you that your father’s booming voice is the first to be heard. “Where were you?”

You start with the truth. “Dad I’m sorry, I was on the bus after my exam, I fell asleep with my headphones-”

”I don’t want your excuses! While you live here under our roof, you will show us some respect, you will follow our rules! You had chores to do today, why didn’t you do them?”

A bead of sweat trails down the back of your neck. You hate being interrupted, and you hate being asked questions when they clearly don’t want the answers. Besides, you are in your twenties, not a child. “As I was saying, I-”

This time your mother interrupts. “Don’t speak to your father like that. He asked you a question, we expect you to answer it!.”

You grit your teeth. “I fell asleep on the bus, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Always with the excuses this one.” Your father laments. “Do you think your future employer is going to care about any of that? No. He’s just going to want to know why you weren’t there.”

It takes every ounce of your sanity to not snap that your answer is the reason WHY you weren’t there, and not simply an excuse. Instead you hold your tongue. They aren’t here to listen, they don’t care. They just want to yell at you, and for you to be sorry.

“I tell you, with behavior like that it’s any wonder at all you’d even be able to keep a job. They would probably fire you on the spot, and then you would be right back on our doorstep, our problem once again to pick up the pieces.”

It’s all hypothetical of course - you’ve never been late to any of your classes, but you have not yet had a job, you weren’t allowed to. You are sure you wouldn’t be late to it though if you were to treat it like your classes. You know you can’t tell your parents this however. Might as well bite the bullet and get it over with.

“Yes Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Saying sorry simply doesn't cut it! Sorry doesn’t fix the problem that you caused, so tell me, how are you going to make the problem right?” he demands. A vein throbs in his forehead. Absently you think about how he knows he should watch his blood pressure, but that would require him to watch his temper. Y/D/N could never.

You know what he is looking for, he wants you to do your chores now, but it’s after 8PM and your exam is at 8AM. If you do your chores now, that leaves you little time for last minute studying, eating, bathing, sleeping, and then catching the bus back to the university. Helplessly, you look to your mother for help.

“Don’t look at me, this is your mess you’ve created. If you had just done what you were supposed to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If you had just been good, you could be doing whatever it is you do with your free time right now.”

It had always annoyed you greatly that your parents were unaware of your academic achievements. While it's true that you didn't have the best grades as a child, once you entered university and chose a major, you became a straight-A student, even going so far as to make the President’s list the last three years in a row. However, in their eyes, you would always be the little underachiever they had to take care of.

Tears well up in your eyes. This situation wasn't fair. It was an accident. You had fully intended to come home and do your chores, but you couldn’t have known you would sleep through your alarm on the bus. You had been so incredibly exhausted that you experienced a vivid nightmare whilst awake. You were aware that you needed more sleep, but your degree was your only way out of this miserable place. You couldn't risk losing it all just because you missed a few hours of sleep now and then.

“Please?” You beg. You didn’t have anything else to argue in your defense. “I’ll leave my headphones in my bag this time, I’ll set multiple alarms, I won’t sleep, just please let me go study!”

Your parents look at each other, having silent communication. Seeming to come to an agreement, your mother speaks first. “Y/N we’re sorry it has to be this way, but you have already proven on multiple occasions that we can’t trust you to do the right thing. Tonight, you are going to do your chores even if it takes you all night to do it. Besides, we all know you’re not studying up there. For all we know you’re just up there masturbating in the window or something.”

Being stabbed in the chest would have been less painful. You don't understand why you're caught off guard; it's not like your mother hasn't said off the wall shit like this in the past. It's almost as if she thrives on finding the most hurtful and outrageous statements to throw in your face, as if you deserved them. As if you had ever done any of the things she accused you of. Like you were some sort of deviant, when all you wanted was simply the right to exist.

“What the actual fuck, Mom?!” you scream, having finally had enough. Both of your parents look taken aback. Rare is it for you to raise your voice at them, even more so to curse at them. “I know you’ve been pretty checked out of my life for a while now, but I’ve had a 4.0 GPA for the last three years. I don’t know where you got that… comment… from, but I can assure you that all I want to do is go to my room and study.”

“Now listen here young lady,” begins your father.

"No, YOU listen, Father," your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were right about one thing, and that is I am a gods damned adult. I take my studies seriously, and while it may come as a surprise to you since neither of you have paid any actual attention to my life since I turned 18, though it could be argued you really stopped paying attention earlier except for when I was being an inconvenience, but I am actually a great student. This is my last semester before graduating with honors and again, a 4.0 GPA, and I will have my choice of job opportunities. I will leave this place, and you miserable old bats will have no one to be your punching bag anymore. Then maybe just maybe you can finally take a look at the flaws and fix what's wrong with your own marriage, instead of trying to break ME!”

Your chest heaved. It felt good to speak your truth, but as the silence grew, you began to realize that you might have made a mistake.

Your father has finally gotten out of his chair, looming over you. A resounding slap echoes across the room as your father backhanded you, knocking you to the floor. “You ungrateful, miserable little bitch! I don’t know what lies those ‘professors’ at the university have been filling your head with, but you have no future, and you are lucky your mother and I care enough to let you live under our roof! And so long as you do, you will obey our rules, and show us the respect we deserve!”

Fearful, you scramble back to the wall and attempt to push yourself to your feet. “If that’s the price of living here, then I will happily live in the University’s library. One week, that’s all I need!” You step forward to make your escape from this house, but this time your mother shoves you, and once again you find yourself on your knees.

You raise your hands in self-defense, but your mother sneers, "Do it, Y/N, hit me, and you'll be out on your ass faster than you can blink!" Crying, you lower your hands and prepare to allow her to strike you.

The lights went out all at once, and everyone froze. Has the power gone out? It couldn’t have, you could still hear the hum of the AC unit. So what was wrong with the lights?

The lights turn back on as suddenly as they had gone out, and all three of you look around in confusion. However, despite the lights returning, the room appears darker, creating an almost eerie atmosphere. The shadows cast a looming presence over all of you, sending a shiver up your spine. Your home, which you have lived in for around twenty ish years, suddenly feels foreboding, and you wonder if it's too late to flee. It almost resembles one of the nightmares you have been experiencing recently.

Red mist fills the room, a dreadfully sinister voice speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

All three of you turn to the source of the sound - the corner of the room, as a red and black leather-clad boot, attached to black leather pants, steps through a portal and into the room. The Scarlet Witch follows, radiating her full glory. She warns, "If you wish to keep your body parts intact, you will never lay a finger on Y/N ever again."

You’re pretty sure your eyebrows have never been closer to meeting your hairline before and yet here we are. You don’t know who this unfamiliar lady is, nor how she seems to know you but God damned if that outfit doesn’t look as if it has been painted onto her. You blush at your sinful thoughts. Now is not the time, and you’re pretty sure you’re having a stroke of some sort. If nothing else, however, you are grateful for the reprieve from your beating.

Meanwhile, your parents had never taken well to being told what to do, by anyone, they certainly weren’t going to now by this costumed stranger. Your mother bristles. “Who is this Y/N? Another one of your little whores?” Completely disregarding the fact that you have never in fact had a partner in your entire life, and you don’t know whether to be pleased that she seems to think you’re capable of having a sex life or affronted that she thinks you’re some type of floozy. Your mother’s words, not yours.

“What? No, I-” You look helplessly from the floor between your parents and this woman you now recognize as the one from your visions, and the same one from your hallucination this morning. Is she here to help, or to hurt you? She has been your savior and aggressor in both; there’s no telling which she has chosen for now. Glancing between them, you are unsure how to de-escalate this situation. There is no way to convince your parents, for their own safety, that this woman is powerful and not to be trifled with. Nothing you could say, they would believe, and you were pretty sure this woman would kill your parents without a second thought if they didn’t tread carefully.

Seeming to sense your struggle, the woman speaks up in your stead. “As I’ve said, you would do well to keep your hands to yourself. I am here to take Y/N with me, and you will not stand in my way. This is your only warning, which I am giving to you out of consideration for Y/N.”

She reaches down for your hand to help you back up. Hesitantly, you take it, ignoring the shock that runs throughout your body, and begin questioning your entire reality. Take you with her? Who even is she? Where exactly is she going to be taking you? You had questions, and you would like some answers, but if you didn’t get your parents to stand down, you were pretty sure she would follow through on her threat. Sure, your parents were trash, but they were all you had. You loved them, and you were certain that, in their own warped way, they loved you, too.

She helps you up and proceeds to give you a thorough once-over, carefully inspecting your injuries. Her intense scrutiny makes you blush. Meanwhile, your parents remain silent, their thinly veiled anger evident as they observe your interaction. How dare this woman speak to them in such a manner? Thankfully, they wisely choose to keep quiet. Perhaps they also sense the dangerous aura emanating from this woman, perceiving her as a true threat. Then again, it could be due to the fact that she just stepped through a literal portal conjured out of thin air moments ago. Maybe they had been paying attention, but even you are unsure of what is real anymore.

Still holding your hand, the Scarlet Witch leads you back towards the portal she arrived through. "Come, Y/N, we have much to discuss." At this point, all you could do was helplessly trail after, hoping you weren't going from bad to worse. At least by leaving, your parents would be out of danger. As for yourself, well... It was clear that the Scarlet Witch wanted something from you. Hopefully, whatever that was would be sufficient to ensure your survival. Perhaps even enough to negotiate with.

At the last possible moment, your mother chooses, whether out of genuine love and concern for your well-being, or fear at the loss of her control over you, to reach out to take you from this bizarre woman. “Mother, no!”

Y/M/N finds herself promptly flung onto the wall behind her, and stuck there, unable to move. You aren’t sure who exactly screamed but you’re pretty sure it was every member of your family. The Scarlet Witch hadn’t even turned to look, the only indication she had even been involved is the raised hand, opposite the one holding yours, with dark, ink-stained fingertips, bent at slightly odd angles.

“Stop, please! Let her go, she won’t do it again, please! I'm sorry, please!”

Unsure of why you are begging for this woman’s life when she has spent the entirety of yours making sure you were miserable. Still, your heart lurched at the thought of anything happening to your mother. You didn’t like her, and if you never saw her again, that was probably for the best, but you certainly didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

The Witch took a deep breath, seemingly to calm herself, before turning to face you.

In the softest voice you had ever heard she whispers “Detka, I-.” She opens and closes her mouth a few times, deciding what to say. To your absolute mortification and delight, she leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, and promises “I will let them live, but I must say my piece.”

You nod, completely dumbstruck at everything happening in this moment. What. The. Fuck.

Y/M/N, still pinned to the wall, whimpers and struggles to move but is clearly unable to. The Scarlet Witch turns from you to face your parents. Another wave of her hand, and your mother slumps to the floor, alarmed, but otherwise unharmed. It is clear whatever the witch did, both she and your father are now restrained.

Footsteps approach the pair, and the lights in the house flickered ominously. Despite your mother being nearly 40 years older than her (or so you assumed, as you had no idea of this woman's age), the power emanating from her exuded confident malevolence. She showed no fear towards them, and for once, although ashamed to admit it, you were glad to see that they were afraid of someone else.

Though she was only about 5'6", the woman knelt before your parents, her voice filled with menacing intent. "I know everything you have ever done, everything you ever could do, and everything you ever will do. I know what you are guilty of. I know what you deserve, and I can assure you that it is not mercy. I will spare your lives and leave you unharmed due to the kindness of your daughter, the daughter you’ve abused for decades." As her head tilts, you can't help but feel that she becomes even more dangerous. "But if you ever try to take her from me again, I will seek retribution on her behalf, and I promise you it will be the most excruciating agony you have ever experienced. Do we understand each other?"

You squirm uncomfortably. This should not be doing things to you, but then again, no one had ever stood up for you. Ever. Gods you needed therapy. It’s fine. Little boxes, and this was for a little box for later.

The witch stood up and once again took your hand, leading you through the portal and leaving your parents behind. Perhaps for good, you weren’t entirely sure, and you suddenly realized you didn’t care. Anywhere was better than here; even if this woman was dangerous, at least for the moment, she seemed to care about you, and that was enough for you to follow her to the ends of the earth.

Again, therapy…

The pair arrive at a massive stone temple, which you would later learn is called Mount Wundagore, the Scarlet Witch's temple. It is built into a massive, rugged mountain with steep cliffs, situated above dense forests and enveloped in mist. The mountain exudes an air of mystique and possesses an eerie atmosphere. Scattered across its walls are depictions of the woman in front of you, accompanied by various runes whose significance you suppose hint at a potentially supernatural importance.

The Scarlet Witch does not make much of an effort for introductions, nor explanations, simply heads towards the entrance to her temple.

“What is this place?” you ask, hints of awe and fear in your voice

“Our home.”

Your brain stutters. “I’m sorry, what now?”

“Detka, do not pretend you did not hear me, I don’t enjoy repeating myself. This is our home.” Her accent sounds vaguely Eastern European, and becomes more pronounced the more irritated she is. You wonder when she started trying to hide it.

Your mind balks at the idea of this being your new home, it couldn’t be less foreboding. “Uhhh… this.. is a giant stone temple in BFE nowhere, with ice, snow, and-”

Movement startles you out of your reverie. Beings made entirely out of stone shift from foot to foot, as if adjusting their stance. Their eyes have the same red glow as the woman who leads you now.

“Are those rock trolls??” The stone guardians loom threatening, but make no move to engage, they await their Queen’s orders. “Right. Rock trolls. Why is this our home? WHERE is our home? And,” you spin, taking the aesthetic of the temple in, trying not to have an anxiety attack. “What do you mean -our- home? Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

You can’t tell if the faint twitch of the other woman’s lips is in amusement or annoyance at your ramblings, but in your defense, she had let you speak uninterrupted. You were known for getting entire paragraphs out if left unsupervised - it was a talent and a curse. Personally you felt she should be grateful you weren’t jumping down her throat, you didn’t know anyone else who would be taking this half as calmly as you were. Then again, you were still waiting on your Hogwarts acceptance letter at 25.

“My name is..” she hesitated. “Wanda. I am.. I was an Avenger.”

You looked on blankly, hoping she would elaborate. The fuck was an “Avenger”?

"In my universe," (you filed away the fact that she implied the existence of a multiverse for later, as it was a problem for another time) "the Avengers are superheroes. Well, that's what we called ourselves - Earth's Mightiest Heroes. A bit arrogant, if you ask me. We dealt with threats that the military and ordinary people couldn't handle. We were the last line of defense. We saved the world countless times, but at a great cost of lives. We were vain, thinking we were above it all because we believed we were acting for the greater good. But try explaining that to those who were lost as collateral damage.

I digress. We.. were considered to be heroes. There were several of us, we were a team. A family. We lived together, fought together. Died together. Until we didn’t.”

Wanda explains the dynamics of the Avengers team, including how she and her brother Pietro joined. She mentions Pietro's death in the battle against Ultron, as well as the events leading up to and the battle against Thanos. She also covers the events of the “Blip”, and what happened afterward. However, she conveniently chooses to omit the events of Westview, as she didn't want you to know about that just yet.

“That’s.. wow. Wanda, that's a lot. Honestly, if I hadn’t seen your powers myself, I wouldn’t believe you. But all of that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. You mentioned your universe as being so fantastical, why would you come here? And what do you want with me? If you’re a hero, why are you here in what totally looks like a villain’s lair and not with your other superhero buddies?” You neglect to mention the unease creeping up your spine.

This is fine. Everything is fine. Right? Right.

A look of utter despair crosses the witches face as she locks eyes with you before glancing away.

“I mentioned my team before, but I didn’t mention you.”

“…” You slow blink. This was not how you thought your day was going to go, and honestly, you were already getting a bit of a headache. Could she be less cryptic because that would be great. More details, fewer questions. Maybe another nap.

"Y/N, where I am from, you were also an Avenger. You had joined the team before Pietro and I, and were one of the few who made us feel welcome. Despite the fact that we had previously been enemies, you didn't treat us as ticking time bombs. Instead, you welcomed us with open arms. Your go-to tactics were kindness and understanding, which made it hard not to want to get to know you. When Pietro died, you were the only one who checked on me and cared. You taught me that grief is just love persevering. You became my closest friend, and over time, I couldn't help when those feelings began growing into something more.”

You swallow uncomfortably. It sounds like Wanda is telling you that in this other universe you both were an item. It’s not that you wouldn’t be honored to be with such an attractive woman, but it feels weird knowing that that was a different version of you. Someone with superpowers, someone likely more confident by the sounds of it. This feels almost as if you are intruding on something you shouldn’t, yet Wanda is the one telling you this; if it weren’t okay for you to know, she surely wouldn’t be sharing. You don’t really know what to make of this; if she has feelings for this other you, why is she here with this version of you?

“In the battle against Thanos, we learned that the source of your powers was an infinity stone embedded in your skull courtesy of H.Y.D.R.A. experiments, which altered your genetic DNA. Thanos had also learned you possessed this Mind Stone and sought to take it from you by force.”

Anguish on her features, the witch turns to you. “You were going to die, Y/N. We tried, I tried, so hard to protect you, to keep you away from him but at every turn he found you. If he had gotten the Mind Stone, he would have been able to enact his plan to rid the universe of half of all life. You told me.” She hiccups.

“Y-you told me it was okay, that you forgive me. That I needed to.. that I needed to destroy the stone to save the universe. I didn’t want to. I would have given anything else but that. But you held my hand and told me you forgave me, that you only felt me. Then Thanos came, and we were out of time. I was the only one with the power to do it because its magic was so similar to my own. I placed my hand to your head and I-.” She is unable to continue, breaking off into sobs.

Oh. So she had to sacrifice you to save the universe. Well. You agree with the alternate you, you didn’t blame her, and you would definitely forgive her. Awkwardly you try to find some way to comfort her. While obviously you were not the same person she had loved and lost, and you knew from your own experiences with loss that sometimes words just couldn’t cut it. Instead, you shuffle forward, making sure you were heard in case she wanted to refuse you, and pullher in for a hug.

Wanda tenses in your embrace, as if she can’t decide if she wants to sink into it or send you flying. “The worst part,” she continues, “was that it meant nothing.”

If you were a dog your head tilt might have been cute.

“In the end, Thanos was still able to get the Mind Stone, and you were still dead, by MY hand, and it all meant NOTHING!” Wanda wrenches herself from your grasp, looking positively unhinged. You probably should have been scared. You weren’t. Her wrath did… things… to you. Therapy…

“All because Strange saw supposedly every possible future and CHOSE to let you die to save everyone else. As if there was no other possible outcome!”

Oh, that... that makes more sense. The other you was still dead, and Wanda was definitely suffering from PTSD from her involvement in it. Her little stunt with your parents was probably her way of trying to save you or bring you back to life. But in your universe, there weren't any superheroes, magic, or Thanos to protect you from (that you were aware of at any rate). So what was Wanda doing? This wouldn't bring her version of you back to life. You may have looked and sounded alike, and you might have made similar decisions, but you simply weren't the same person. The lack of the same life experiences meant that you had different personalities, despite having a similar genetic build.

“So we saved the world, and I left to live in exile. After the funeral, Clint handed me your belongings, and in them was a letter. A deed to a plot of land you had purchased in our names where we were going to build a house. I think it was supposed to be a surprise after we defeated Thanos. We had never lost before, not since Pietro - I don’t think it occurred to us that we could. So I drove out to see and.. Y/N I was still so new to my powers. They were still mostly subconscious. I was grieving and... it would be easier if I show you. May I?”

“May you.. what?”

A subtle smile appears on the witches' face at your ignorance. You are tempted to mention how beautiful she looks with that smile. Shaking off the thought, you ponder if she can read your mind, as her smile becomes knowing and a slight blush colors her cheeks. Ink-stained fingers reach towards your temple, but she hesitates, waiting for your consent, and your heart fills with warmth. You nod once, despite not really understanding.

Her charcoal-colored fingers, cold to the touch, make contact with your temple. Just as you're about to complain about the lack of warning, you're abruptly transported into a completely different world, surpassing the immersive experience of any 3D movie you've ever seen. You not only hear and see everything in every direction, but you can also feel and smell it all. It feels as if you are truly present in that moment. It takes a few minutes for you to realize that you are witnessing someone else's memories, to be precise, Wanda's memories.

She starts her memory with the unexploded bomb created by Tony Stark, which sat in the middle of the rubble of the Maximoff residence. In that chaotic scene, there were two children, the twins, hiding in fear under a bed. However, before you could offer any comfort, the scene shifted. The twins had been taken to HYDRA, where they were subjected to brutal experiments. Witnessing their suffering broke your heart, and despite your best efforts, you were unable to interact with your surroundings, although you desperately tried. Repeatedly you threw yourself against the walls of the cells in which the twins were held, hoping to free them from their hellish situation. You observed the twins' powers first emergence: Pietro's as he attempted to reach his sister's side, and Wanda's as she tried to defend Pietro from the scientists.

Scene after scene, each one as traumatic, if not more so, than the last, depicting all the events from Ultron and beyond. And then there's you. Except, it's not really you. You've certainly never possessed the power of teleportation, nor have you ever been so self-assured. This must be Wanda's universe's version of you. With bright eyes and a warm demeanor, you appear as a beacon of light in Wanda's otherwise bleak life. You observe as the version of you in this universe warmly welcomes the twins to the team, a stark contrast as to how the rest of the team treats the newcomers ranging from suspicious to openly hostile.

It’s surreal, watching yourself from outside your own body, knowing this version isn’t really you, but still no less real of a person. Wanda’s memories begin focusing less on missions and more on interpersonal relationships. Specifically, the one developing between yourself and Wanda. It’s intimate and you feel like an intruder watching this unfold. Sadly, as you grow closer, Wanda loses the only other connection she has - Pietro is hit by stray bullets while saving children. A true hero, and there was nothing anyone on the team could do to prevent it. You watch in horror both for the loss of Pietro as a friend, as well as knowing the absolute devastation this will cause your beloved Witch.

You can tell at this point that that’s what she was to you. It hasn't been long, but that bond has clearly already been sealed; you can see the signs in both your alternate self and Wanda. You would have to be blind not to. The loss of her brother does terrible things to Wanda and it’s all your other self can do to try to keep her afloat. “What is grief but love persevering?”

The scene shifts again. Time has clearly passed, and Wanda appears to have healed to some extent. She and the team have become much more cohesive, which delights both versions of you. Your relationship has definitely progressed, if the blush currently gracing your face, extending to your ears, is any indication. You feel the remnants of the emotions from your alternate self. They are not yours, but neither are they entirely unfamiliar. It makes for a disconcerting sensation to say the least. You don’t know Wanda like that, even though this version of you does. You wish you could view these memories dispassionately, free from your alternate self’s emotions that are bleeding through, but you suspect that’s not possible. Once again you try to reassure yourself that you are not the same person, no matter the genetic makeup.

Jarring you from your reverie, next you find yourself in another battle, and this one is massive. There are more superheroes here than you have ever seen before, either in Wanda's memories or in films. This must be the fight against Thanos she had told you about. Dread settles in your stomach like a stone, and for a moment, you contemplate what it will be like to witness your own death.

Traumatizing, for sure, though not for the reasons you had expected. While you are unable to interact with your environment, you are able to freely move about. Instead of looking at the memory entirely from Wanda’s perspective, you move to stand beside yourself. Wanda stands before you, ethereal, magnificent, yet utterly devastated. She knows what she has to do and pleads with you not to make her. It is unjust for a woman so powerful to suffer such loss, and still you implore her to sacrifice your life, her happiness, for the sake of the rest of the universe. It is unfair. It is cruel. You know it, but you ask anyway.

She never could tell you “no.”

You know the moment this universe's version of you had died when you witness the sheer devastation on Wanda's face. Most people would probably look away, but you couldn't. For some unknown reason, you feel compelled to witness this moment in all its horrifying detail, if only to gain a true understanding of the witch and the immense pain she has endured. There were surely few things more intimate than allowing someone to share their own memories, and here Wanda was, granting you unrestricted access to hers. The least you could do was accept this gift she was offering, no matter how painful it might be.

The images that follow blur together, evoking your personal experiences with grief and a sense of detachment from the world. The funeral is somber, one and all everyone dressed in black and grey. Wanda is present only in body, and you can’t blame her. Clint, the archer, hands her your belongings, including the letter she had mentioned. It unnerves you how detached Wanda appears to be at this moment, despite being surrounded by friends and colleagues. You worry about what lies ahead for her. So much loss in such a short time, it didn’t take a psychiatrist to know this would surely take a toll on her. You prayed that her friends came to check on her, but you had a feeling either they didn’t, or in her grief, she refused them entry.

Colors blend into one another and fade out. You find yourself standing on a plot of land in a town called Eastview, crouching next to Wanda as she collapses to her knees. Her body is wracked with anguished sobs as she finally allows herself to grieve. You wish you could interact with this memory, to hold her and alleviate some of her pain, even if only for a moment. Instead, you sit with her, sharing in her pain as she releases it all into the world. Wanda allows herself to experience her grief in its entirety, no longer burying her feelings beneath a veneer of numbness. Colors leech from the world around her, turning it greyscale. You're pretty certain that even at their strongest, the average person's manifestation of grief isn't supposed to do that, but then again, the average person isn't the Scarlet Witch. Briefly, you wonder what consequences this will have on her world. Your head feels fuzzy, and as your vision fades to black, you suppose you are about to find out.

You regain consciousness and find yourself in a world entirely devoid of color. Disoriented, you blink as the details of your surroundings slowly come into focus. In front of you stands... well... yourself. Or rather, an alternate version of you who appears to be from the 1950s, slightly older but still alive. Seated beside 1950’s you is Wanda, also monochrome and dressed in 1950s attire. Blearily, you rub your eyes. It has been a long day, and you are extremely tired, unsure if this is just an incredibly vivid hallucination or if you have actually passed out somewhere.

Alternate you asks Wanda a question, to which you aren’t listening, and she replies with a quip - you still aren’t listening, wondering where you are and why everything is in greyscale. What catches you off-guard though, is the surround sound laugh track that‘s garnered in response. It’s galling to admit but you jump, startled, and look around. There’s no one else in the house besides yourself, the alternate version of you, and Wanda. Where did that come from?

Alternate you replies to Wanda, and again with the laugh track. This time you are not as startled, but no less unsettled. What fresh hell is this? Could this be Wanda’s doing? It doesn’t seem like you can ask her though, as you’re just a passive observer in this strange situation. The last thing you remember, Wanda was grieving in Eastview at the plot of land which alternate you had purchased to start your life together after retiring from being superheroes. Strange grey wiggly woos (as you were starting to refer to her magic) were emanating from the witch, quite different from the familiar scarlet color you had grown accustomed to.

Perhaps this was her doing, if only subconsciously. You tried to recall, didn’t Wanda mention something about her powers being new to her and mostly unintentional? This could be what she had been referring to. Apprehension made a home in your chest as you found yourself dreading whatever was about to unfold before you. Oh no, Wanda, what did you do?

It doesn’t take long after observing the hijinks and mishaps, for you to realize that Wanda's grief had manifested through her powers. She had transformed the town of Eastview into Westview, resembling a 1950s-style sitcom town. Wanda, along with an alternate version of yourself (if you were truly still alive - that part you hadn't figured out yet), and the entire town were trapped. While it may have started unintentionally, Wanda became aware of it and began actively using her powers to maintain her idyllic town, keeping it isolated from the outside world and preventing the townspeople from leaving. In her grief, Wanda was essentially playing house, holding everyone hostage. However, despite her powers growing stronger, it was clear that the people living there were suffering. If you could even consider their existence as living.

There were even two boys - twins, just like Wanda was a twin. Your heart broke, knowing this could not possibly end well. While technically not "real" and not even "yours" at that, watching these boys be born, live, and grow caused you to cultivate a love for them almost as if they were your own. Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest; you didn't want to see how this plays out, but you didn't have a choice.

Despite the dysfunction in your parents, you had always wanted a family of your own. An attempt to break the cycle and bring new life - happy and healthy - into this world. You wanted to raise your kids with the love and care you had never experienced yourself.

You understood the motivations of the witch, but that didn't justify her morally questionable choices. Once again, you are condemned to remain on the sidelines, unable to take any action to resolve the situation. You are forced to witness this charade unfold, hoping and praying that it would end well for everyone involved, yet knowing that it would not. How could it possibly?

Despite your bias, after witnessing everything Wanda had endured, you found yourself wishing for the best outcome for her, in particular. Among all the people you could think of, she deserved a break from the misery that had plagued her life until now.

Eventually, it all came to a head when another witch named Agatha Harkness had infiltrated the town with a book called the Darkhold, attempting to convince Wanda to join her and increase their powers. If Wanda refused, the witch planned to take Wanda's powers for herself. Something about a prophecy regarding a Scarlet Witch.

Meanwhile, the alternate version of you had become self-aware of the true nature of Westview. This version of you pleaded with Wanda to prioritize the wellbeing of others over her own happiness, once again. They urged Wanda to defeat Agatha and free the townspeople, even if it meant losing her spouse and children. It was an impossible choice, and you questioned whether you could have mustered the courage to make the same decision in Wanda’s position.

Wanda defeated Agatha, not that you ever doubted her for a moment. She said goodbye to you, again, and then to her boys, and released her spell. The town was free, but her family.. was gone. Wanda was once again on her own.

A startled gasp leaves your lips as you awaken from the memories. It feels like it’s been ages, but from what you can tell, it must only have been minutes since Wanda first began sharing her memories with you. “Oh.”

Cringe. You wish you could have said something, anything more eloquent. Unfortunately, you feel as though you've just been hit by a Mack truck and could nap for a week. It doesn’t help that you were still feeling the effects of lack of sleep for the last couple of weeks.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t feel so good, is it okay if I lay down somewhere…?” A quick glance around the temple makes you second guess the question you were about to ask. Stone floors did not make a good bed.

With a tone much softer than she had been using, she replied. "Of course, Detka, you only need to ask."

An elegant wave of her slender fingers and gone is the stone temple, replaced by a cozy bedroom. At a cursory glance, you can tell it is a sanctuary of comfort and tranquility, featuring a plush, inviting bed. The room is adorned with personal touches, such as framed photographs of you and Wanda, and artwork that is somehow absolutely your aesthetic. Shelves display a carefully chosen selection of your favorite books, each waiting to be explored. These items add character and give the space a feeling that is unique to you, even though you have never set foot in this place before.

“Come,” A glimpse of Wanda and you are surprised to discover instead of her red and black uniform, she is now garbed in an oversized sweater and some cotton sweatpants.

“You have been holding space for others for so long, it is time you took some well-deserved rest. You work much too hard.”

“Uh s-sure.” About to make a comment that perhaps you should also change, but looking down to find that you are wearing your favorite worn Legolas shirt and some pajama shorts.

“Right. Rest.” Part of you wants to ask when you can return to your home so you can finish studying for your exams, but based on previous conversation, context clues tell you that’s the least of your concerns right now, and Wanda probably wouldn’t be too pleased with that topic of discussion right now.

Wanda takes your hand, leading you to the bed and it takes your overworked brain far longer than you care to admit to realize that she means for you both to share it. Your brain short-circuits at all the factors at play here: Knowing that you yourself are touch-starved; this absolute enchantress of a woman dated an alternate universe’s version of you, even going so far as basically playing housewife and mother of your children, and here she was asking you to share a bed. Sure, she wasn’t asking you to sleep with her, but she was still asking you to share a bed next to her and what if you accidentally spooned her in your sleep, and what if-

”You’re thinking too loudly, malysh.”

“What? You can- you’re a mind reader?!” you panic, backpedaling mentally, praying to every deity that existed that you hadn’t had any unsavory thoughts in her presence, and nearly fainting as you recalled that you in fact, had some rather explicit thoughts from the moment you first saw her.. The mortification alone was enough to put you into an early grave. You weren’t sure how you had missed that during everything she had shown you, but you reasoned you were probably more focused on the physical manifestations of her powers.

"Relax, Y/N. I don't intentionally read minds, at least not anymore. Sometimes, surface thoughts are so loud that I can't help but hear them. Like right now, you're practically yelling them at me," she said, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

Unfortunately, while you were no longer freaking out about having accidentally offended the witch, you were now spiraling down a different path. You were agonizing over the pain you had, and likely were still causing her by thinking so loudly. If you remembered any media involving mind reading, the person with the ability usually suffered greatly at the hands of others unintentionally. Naturally, the average person didn't know how to shield their thoughts, and you were afraid that you might be giving her a migraine. To the woman who had only tried to bring you to a safe place and offer you shelter.

You began to hyperventilate.

Wanda could see that you were spiraling, even without being a mind reader. It was written clearly on your face. However, being able to hear your thoughts helped her identify the source of your anxiety, and she berated herself for not considering that earlier. This version of you lacked confidence, and it was now Wanda's responsibility to help rebuild it. At least, according to her.

"Your parents really did a number on you, didn't they, detka?"

Cool hands gently held your cheeks, pulling you out of your thoughts. Suddenly, Wanda invades your personal space, and the scent of vanilla fills your nostrils, momentarily distracting you from what was happening.

"We're just going to take a nap, okay Y/N? You don't have to worry about anything. I'm not bothered by any of those thoughts you have." A leering grin unfurls across her face.

“If anything I’m quite flattered by them.” She winks.

Heat flashes across your body, and you can’t tell if you were embarrassed, aroused, or both. Unfortunately, you knew your thoughts were likely betraying you. Gods, if only the floor could just open up right now and swallow you into the abyss. Yes, that would be fantastic.

"However, there is time enough for such things later. It's been years, Y/N, and I've just got you back. Nap with me, please?" The witch's eyes gaze longingly into yours, and well, when she looks at you like that, how could you say "no"?

She leads you to the bed and, with the practiced ease of her time in Westview, pulls you into her embrace as the little spoon. Earlier, you had been worried about accidentally touching her inappropriately or having a dirty dream. Now though, with her arms wrapped so protectively around you, sleep claims you almost instantaneously.

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader

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starlightsuffered · 5 months ago

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Tunnels

Info - hard Dom Timothée, degrading, reader with a big ass, cnc, spy au, anal sex, getting stuck,

I crawled along the tunnel quietly. Being new at this job, I was taking it very seriously. Timothée, on the other hand, was no where near a rookie. He seemed to think crawling through these air ducts was pointless all to possibly get some intel. I wanted to impress our boss.... and admittedly, I wanted to impress Timothée too.

When l'd asked the other spies if I could take the lead he'd chuckled smugly and said to have at it. This was why I was leading this crawl. I checked my high tech watched every few seconds.

"Left, a right, and then straight, we'll be in the vent right over the gathering," I whispered back.

"Whatever you say," Timothée snickered.

I kept moving. I was shuffling along. It always too all my strength to focus on my job instead of the sexy man I'd been teamed with. Today was no different. I'd seen him in that skin tight spy suit and I prayed to a God I didn't believe in that my pussy wasn't leaking through the skin tight outfit.

"That tunnel looks a bit small," I said warily as I looked ahead

"Yeah."

"Sh-Should we try it? I guess I could navigate a way around. It would take a little longer but-"

"Didn't you say we were on a tight schedule?" Snapped Tim. "I thought you were leading this."

"Oh, Um, right, right," I nodded determinately. I sighed and then gathered courage. I moved forward. There was a moment of claustrophobia and then my face and shoulders were free!

"I think I can get through!" I said excitedly. I could've sworn I heard Timothée laugh. I didn't know if 'd imagined it or not until my ass got stuck. I pulled forward but it was no use. It was a snug fit.

"T-Timothée, I'm stuck," I said worriedly,

"Oh yeah?" He crooned. I didn't like his jovial attitude.

"Yes! Now help! Push!"

"Oh I'll push something in somewhere," he mumbled. I didn't know what he meant until I felt his hands on the elastic of my pants.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I asked.

"You think I don't know these tunnels?" He asked. Something long and hard and wet slapped my ass. Could....

Could it have been his cock. I was stuck and he had his dick out?

"You think I didn't take one look at you and know that thick, gorgeous, juicy ass would get stuck in this very tunnel?"

"No, no, why did you do this? We'll miss the meeting," | exclaimed.

"Meeting," he laughed and I felt him push my legs apart. Air hit my bare hole. I gasped and it pulsed.

"You think l've cared about anything except getting my dick squeezed since I saw that big ass and imagined that tight hole?" He asked. With that, he shoved himself inside me. I yelped and he laughed. I couldn't believe I was being taken advantage of like this. I couldn't believe he was so bold. I couldn't believe he was thrusting so hard..... I couldn't believe I liked it. I could've believe how I felt it in my stomach.

"Oh-oh," | covered my mouth, hiding my whimper.

"That's right, you fucking love it. Don't pretend you didn't want me to take you like this," he goaded. I shuddered. I shouldn't like this.

"Oh yeah, fucking been wanting to use this princess hole so bad. I could tell your hole needed a good stretch. Oh fuck! Yeah! Your good girl hole is so tight!" He gasped. He was pumping harder now.

"You're just for me to use. You don't deserve a job, all you're good for is being a fuck toy on reserve for me," he chuckled. Why did I love his confidence and pride?

"Y-you shouldn't-"

"And yet you want it don't you?" He teased. "You know you shouldn't but you wanted this as much as me. You probably want it more."

"Ohhhhh fuuuuuck!" I let out a desperate moan that echoed.

"That's it baby," he growled. He grabbed my hips harshly and his hips slapped into my ass harder.

"I've fucking needed a cum dump so bad, good thing you joined the force. Oh yeah! You're going to come to me whenever I need to unload," he demanded.

"Yes," I said submissively.

"Oh fuck, oh yeah," grunted Timothée. He let loose in my ass. The load was huge, as if he'd been saving up. I was whining and gasping and trying desperately not to make too much noise.

At least he pulled out. He snapped up my pants and then he grabbed at my pussy through the fabric. I was panting as he massaged me. I could feel his load dripping from my hole as he fingered my clit.

"Cum in your pants baby girl," he whispered. That was all I could take. I exploded in the thin fabric. I had to wonder if it would seep out and through.

As I was coming down he gave me a hard wrench. He had yanked me out of the tight space. I landed on my ass.

"You could've gotten me out the whole time?" I demanded of him.

"I told you I planned this. I needed a tight place to dump my cum," he winked. I felt myself heat. I felt so used...

So why did I love it?

"Come on," he called behind him as he began to crawl another direction.

"And I hope you don't feel too uncomfortable," he said in a mocking tone. I was now keenly aware of how our juices were mixing in my pants.

"Don't leave any DNA behind."

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

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unmotivated-student · 8 months ago

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hi, qsmpblr...

things maybe aren't looking good rn and maybe we don't know what the future holds for the server but for now I just want to say thank you ♡

I suck at interacting with people and online I'm even more akward than irl, so I've never been very active in a community until now and despite everything you've been very kind and cool 😸

There are very talented artists in this community, very creative writers who captivate you with their stories, people who analyze characters in such a detailed way that they seriously leave you thinking, dedicated people who make liveblogs, summaries and translations of streams and clips that help ensure that no one misses anything, people who make memes and shitposts that can make someone else's day...

All of you are amazing 🫵

Keep making art and writing about these characters if it makes you happy, keep enjoying the content if it makes you happy, there's nothing wrong with that ♡

This project gave me the opportunity to enjoy the content of amazing ccs with amazing communities, interesting cultures and languages... and i also got to meet you^^, no matter what happens, it is an experience that I will never forget

and for all this I want to say thank you again qsmpblr, you have been wonderful^^

[mutuals I love you even though I hardly interact with you, so don't forget that I love you♡]

so anyway, happy one year qsmpblr :D

los tqm y así 💟🫧

#I wanted to tell you something before I get busy at work ♡#maybe my activity on the blog will go down but that doesn't mean I'll disappear completely #I may also continue with my persona-posting but it doesn't mean anything either #qsmp

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ladybugsimblr · 10 months ago

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simshaderoom #SSRBreakups #DeangeloBolton has filed for divorce from #LunaVillareal, his wife of just over a year. Infidelity is listed as the reason for the split, but no word on who was doing the cheating. D-Lo wants full custody of their two children together and we are told a prenup was signed. Single D-Lo was a menace in these sim streetz 😏. Do you think he is a changed sim? Will Mizuki get her man back? We miss both of them. Please come back to simshaderoom.

dizzydes Wow. Another marriage over because these wives don't want to be faithful anymore. See what you started Queen... Y'all can keep knocking on my door though. I'm happily single and have enough love to share. Good for you with that prenup bro!

skyeisthelimit Bye ashy!

rubberbandshan Ooop! Skye! Is that for dumbass Dizzy or your step mom?

skyeisthelimit EX step never my mom 😉

kingb Dizziot. Sirrr. It’s giving BK is paying you dust and you're sick over it. Saying anything at this point. Just admit you fucked up including the Queen in your stay relevant by any means necessary actions. And then please keep her name out your mouth.

anon Not to be messy but who do you think D-Lo cheated with? You think him and his “business partner” were making beautiful music in the studio?? 👀😏😅

b&qforever Absolutely not Anon. Ain’t no BK cheating or divorce happening. Ever. And I think Luna cheated. How you get them is how you lose them…

wildbutterfly I don’t care who’s cheating. Someone tell me when they’re casting for D-Lo’s bachelor challenge. I would cut a bish to find out how does it feel.

soheaux Ha! The way I too would be a heaux on national tv for my man D-Lo…. Sign me up.

kingb I’m here for this reality show. For the Love of D-Lo! I need BK to be the host. You think he would accept a male contestant? Asking for a friend…

c.spiracy Hmm. I would like to see this. If I could reveal my identity, I might even apply. Unfortunately we all know D-Lo’s one true love is Bailey Kay. He’ll never be happy with anyone else. Maybe he'll settle for a clone version so Lo and B can finally live their happy ever after.

rubberbandshan I caaaan’t with y’all or this idea. Ok I’m lying. I might could tune in if this became real. I like a little mess from time to time. d-lo i know you’re off simshaderoom shenanigans right now but would you be down????

d-lo 👀

#d-lo is back on the market #hide your wives hide your simselves #or not 😏😉😅#you think d-lo would do a show?#who in your game would sign up?#bklegacy #bklgen2 #simshaderoom #deangelo bolton #luna villareal #dizzy des #bailey kay #rubberbandshan #skye bolton

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gucciwins · 2 years ago

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heartbreak, hospitals, and apologies

Word count: 4996

A/N: hi friends! the wait is over. here is part two of bel and harry's fight. hope you enjoy :D

warnings: angst...with happy ending

first part // love on tour series

You huff, sitting on the hospital bed, assuring the two nurses there was no need to call anyone.

“Miss, it’s protocol,” one of them responded, repeating this for the fifth time.

You relent, “fine, can I give you a number?”

“Is your emergency contact not the same? We can change that right now.”

This is harder than it seems. You can’t explain to the kind nurse who’s only doing their job that you don’t want to call your boyfriend because you’re in a fight and haven’t spoken to each other in a week.

“No,” you sigh, leaning back against the hard pillow on your bed. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Miss Belmonte. The doctor will be in shortly.”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to remember how exactly you got here.

A car ride is something you would have done if you were in Los Angeles, allowing you to run down PCH with the windows down and music blasting out but here in London, driving isn’t something you preferred; walking seemed to be the thing that helped clear your mind the most.

Hampstead Heath is the place that made you fall in love with London and where on one or more occasions, you would meet with Harry to talk about your days or simply enjoy time together. Today, you were spending it alone. You laced up your running shoes, promising yourself you’d run a mile, knowing it’d make you feel better, and then walk the rest of your time there.

The mile went well if it meant feeling your lungs burning by the end of it due to the cold weather. If you were being honest, you preferred to do your morning yoga routine, but Harry always leads each one, and doing without him fills you with hurt. There weren’t many people meaning no need to say excuse me every few minutes. You smiled at a mother pushing her pram as you slowed to a walk. It’s safe to say the quiet at home was getting to you. Naomi told you that picking up your phone to call him is a good first step but not when you were drowning in anger and pain because you hurt Harry.

That was never your intention.

As much as you enjoyed being outside, you preferred to sulk in the comfort of your own home. Your cool down would be the walk home and stretch inside where no one could see you cry.

A small dog was barking as you and its owner waited at the crossing. Once you got the go-ahead, you moved forward, unaware that the dog had stopped barking or that no one else had stepped forward. As soon as you were about to take a second step, the man next to you pushed you back, causing you to stumble and fall to the side, hitting your head and feeling the breeze of the car zooming down the road that would have taken you with it if not for this stranger helping you.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asks, bending down next to you, but everything feels fuzzy. You hear him talk to someone on the street about an ambulance, and you know this is not good news. “Hey, miss?”

“My head hurts,” you reply after a moment. You raise your hand to touch it, but the stranger stops you.

“Don’t do that. You’ll be okay. Help is on the way.”

You decide to trust him because what else can you do for the moment. It could have been two or fifteen minutes. You’re not sure when the paramedics arrived and lifted you on the gurney as if your body was fighting, keeping you awake because as soon the ambulance door slammed closed, your world went black.

That is not a memory you want to remember. Your head hurts thinking about lying on the ground. You fear the media will get a hold of this and run with it. There were so many strangers by the time the ambulance arrived. Still, for once, it’s not a problem you want to take care of, not when a nurse was currently calling your boyfriend, Harry, who you had not spoken to in a week because you felt embarrassed and ashamed for hurting him the way you did. You know that if you had remained calm, the argument wouldn’t have escalated to a full-blown fight with him asking you to leave.

A knock on your door breaks you out of your thoughts, welcoming in the nurse once more. “Miss Belmonte, we got no response from Mr. Styles but left a voicemail. Is there anyone else we can call?”

“Not that currently live here,” you told her honestly.

Harry never liked answering unknown numbers. It’s something you both had in common. It came with the life rather be safe than sorry. He could have mistaken it for a spam call. He couldn’t know it was a hospital trying to reach him about his injured girlfriend.

“Can I try?” You offer.

“Of course, I’ll give you some privacy.” Nurse Lana walks out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving you alone once more as you try your best to calm your shaky hands as you go to your favorites list, Harry being right on top.

It rings once, twice, and a third before sending her to voicemail.

You sigh, waiting for the machine to beep to begin your message. “Hi, Harry,” you breathe out, your voice shaky, and hope isn’t able to pick up on it so that he doesn’t get worried. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m at Royal Free Hospital, and I know you’re busy, so you don’t need to worry about showing up. I’m not expecting you to because I know why you wouldn’t want to see me either way,” you add on, “but I thought you should know that--uh, I got in a small accident. All I got was a minor scratch, but it was all precaution, as you know. I’m fine,” your voice trailing off.

“Miss the Doctor will be in soon.”

“Thank you. Sorry, H. Don’t even worry, Emerson will be here soon enough,” and you hang up without a goodbye or an I love you.

You feel overwhelmed and sad because you want Harry here holding your hand but know you don’t deserve him. Now that the most important call is done, your breathing still feels heavy and uneven. The heart monitor hasn’t settled down yet, and you’re not at all surprised. It seemed Harry had that effect on you, no matter the situation. Your next phone call was to your manager, Viola. She’s quick to answer; it’s something you have always loved about her.

“Y/N, why in god's name are you calling me at six am!!!”

You wince, forgetting about the time difference, but go straight to the matter. “I’m sorry, but I’m in the hospital.”

“Shit, darling. You okay?” Y/N could laugh at the shift in tone but knew her head would begin to throb. “What happened?”

“A car was coming too fast at a crossing, and a stranger pushed me out of the way, but now I have stitches on my temple.”

“Oh dear, are you alright? Is Harry there?”

You sigh, not at all surprised, she asked for them. Everyone knew that when Harry and you were in the same city, there was no separating the two of you. “Harry and I got into an argument and haven't spoken in a few days. Left him a voicemail but don’t know if he’s busy or even in London still.”

“I’m sure he’ll reach out. Do you think the media got a hold of it yet?”

“Maybe,” you shrug and hope that’s not the case. “That’s why I called but also just to check-in. Not feeling too good. Possible concussion. Do you think you can inform Naomi and her family? That I’m okay, but no calls, for now, it hurts my head.”

“Absolutely, I’m on it. Emerson will be at your house prepping everything, pick you up too if you need it.”

“Thank you,” a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, knowing Viola has everything under control.

“No need, darling. I’ll update Emerson and ensure she’s on her way to you soon enough.”

“It’ll be a few hours, no rushing her.”

“Oh, you’re a doll even when injured,” Viola tells you before hanging up.

You close your eyes, your two phone calls done and shut your phone off. The light had made your head throb, and the nurse said resting was okay, so it’s what you intend to do. The doctor could wake you up when he was in to do his round; for now, you want to rest.

_____

You wake up to chatter inside your room, groaning at the light shining in from the window. Someone was quick to close the blinds, which you were grateful for as you slowly opened your eyes, careful not to move your head. You focused on the person standing before you and were surprised to see Harry standing next to a doctor. He looked tired, a frown set on his face, and you knew he was upset and didn’t want to be here with you. It caused your eyes to well up with tears. You didn't want him to see you cry, so you turned away.

“Hi, Miss Belmonte. I’m Dr. Bloom. How are you feeling?”

“The headache dulled,” you respond in a whisper.

“That’s good. I was telling Mr. Styles here that your scans show a minor concussion which is common for a head injury. As for the stitches, you’ll come back to us in three to five days to have them removed, and we’ll do one final exam to check there is no other injury,” Dr. Bloom explains.

“Meaning another MRI,” you sigh, knowing it’s going to be a tough week.

“Afraid so, but we’re hopeful everything will come back clear then. We’ll begin the discharge paperwork now, and you’ll be free to go home in a few hours.”

Dr. Bloom excuses herself, and you’re left alone with the man who’s been in your dreams every night since you walked out of his house. You remember how awful you felt when you walked out and how you were fighting to turn around and tell Harry you’d say everything, but your hurt heart pushed you away from the one person you loved the most.

Now he’s standing in front of you, not a hint of emotion on his face. It’s like you were staring at a stranger. You hate that you caused this, that you were selfish in keeping something quiet, that you’ve lost your other half.

“Harry,” you whimper.

It seems to break the tension in the hospital room because he steps toward you, sitting on the side of the bed as he scans every part of your body to see where else you’re hurt and what he can do to help.

“How you feeling? Hmm,” he asks, even though he just heard you tell the doctor how you were feeling.

“I’m okay, tired.” You tell him honestly.

“Em dropped your clothes off.”

You frown, “she didn’t stay?”

Harry shakes his head. “No. Viola has her doing some things for you.”

If Viola needed her, that was okay. You settle down, letting Harry’s voice ease down all the emotions you had stored inside of you. You don’t deserve to have him here, but you won’t be asking him to leave. Harry falls silent, and you know he must have a million thoughts running through his head, just like you do.

There’s so much you want to say, mainly sorry. Sorry for hurting him.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” you let out, letting your eyes meet his.

He looks confused for a second, but it clicks, and you see the shield rise to keep you out.

“Y/N–”

“You have to know I never meant to hurt you,” you plead for him to understand. You don’t even notice the rise in your heart monitor, but Harry does.

“Not now.” He tells you sternly. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

You deflate, feeling your heart sink, and know that this really must be the end. He only showed up because he was obligated by hearing your voicemail and the hospital's. He knows you don’t have anyone here you trust, not without relation to him. You nod, trying and failing to offer him a smile, so instead, you close your eyes hoping the nurse returns soon to let you go home.

“Y/N?”

No more Bel.

It seems you were really losing Harry, and there was nothing you could do. This was the beginning of the end. Harry would take you home, and you’d probably never see him again because he couldn’t forgive you for breaking his heart.

“Why are you crying?” His voice was soft and full of concern.

You feel his thumb wipe away a tear, and you wonder how you managed not to feel them escaping you.

“Sorry,” you apologize.

He frowns, not able to understand what you’re apologizing for.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about Dylan and leaving your house upset. For not calling you all week until I needed you.”

Harry knows you’re not in a secure emotional state for this conversation. It isn’t fair to him, and it isn’t fair to you. He stops you once again.

“Now isn’t the time,” his tone was firm and final.

Your mouth falls close, and you feel your face fall. Usually, you’re better at hiding your emotions, but after the day you had, there’s no facade, and Harry can see every bit of emotion on your face. It seems definite that when you have this conversation, you will lose Harry, and he’s too considerate to break up with you in a hospital.

“Bel,” he sighs, running a hand through his already messed-up hair. “I’m not giving up on you. Now and here is not the place for that conversation.”

A hospital is definitely not how you saw this conversation with Harry growing; if he wanted a different environment, you would allow him that. He deserves better, and you have to start proving to him it could still be you.

_______

After signing endless forms, you were free to go, released in the care of Harry. The nurse promised to personally see you in five days to remove the stitches. Your job–or Harry’s- was to ensure the wound stayed clean and uninfected.

By protocol, you were brought down to Harry’s car in a wheelchair, where Harry stopped to take a photo of where he promised to only show Mitch and Sarah. You rolled your eyes, not caring who he showed because you trusted him. Harry helped you buckle in, making sure you were comfortable before getting in and driving you away from the hospital you hoped to never visit again but knew it would be unavoidable as you’d be back in a few days.

Harry had piano tunes playing in the car, and you know he did that when he was headed to the studio. You wondered if Harry was at the studio when he received the call or was on his way there. You wondered if you ruined his day by hearing the news you were in the hospital.

“Naomi called me,” Harry tells you, breaking the silence.

“Hmmm…”

“Was wondering how you’re doing?”

“And what you tell her, Doc?”

Harry shoots you a funny smile, “told her you’re taking it like a champ.”

You’re unsure about that, and you decide to brush past that. “When’s her flight landing?”

He laughs, shaking his head, “what?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I’d be on the first flight out if it was her.”

“She arrives tomorrow afternoon with Viola. There were things both of them had to reschedule before flying out.”

That does not surprise you. It’s hard to drop everything you’re doing for someone who lives oceans away. You’re thankful for them and will remind them to show them when they arrive. You focus back on the road in time to see Harry take a right turn instead of a left. You frown but don’t say a word until he stops outside your house gates.

Harry presses the remote for your gates and pulls up the driveway. He parks next to your car, looks over at you and takes note of the frown on your face.

“Hey, you’re home. What’s wrong?”

You shrug, hoping he lets it go, and you go to get out of the car when he stops you.

“You can tell me, Bel.”

“It’s selfish,” you mutter.

“What is?”

“I-I just thought you’d take me home with you.”

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I thought you didn’t want to be there. You gave me my key back.”

You reach for his hand but stop yourself, unsure if he’s comfortable with that small action. “That isn’t why I gave it back, Harry.”

The silence lingers in the air, and you aren’t sure where to go from here.

“Are you sure you’re up for this conversation? You haven’t even made it inside.”

You drop your head, trying your best to keep your tears in, something this headache broke in you was how much you seemed to be crying, but if you were being honest, the reason you keep crying is because you know the possibility of losing Harry is high. “I can’t keep doing this, avoidance,” you croak out.

Harry exhales a long breath, looking at your house and then back at you. “Can we go somewhere else? Not sure I want to taint your house with any bad memories.”

You know he didn’t mean to hurt you with his words, but the wound is so fresh that your heartaches at the memories you have left him within the home he opened you into with open arms. Now, he’ll always relate it back to when you hurt him the most by walking away and not being willing to fight for him.

“Anywhere you want, H. I’d follow you anywhere,” you tell him honestly.

That gets you a hint of a smile, one that you haven’t seen in over a week and miss desperately.

“Alright, buckle up again then.”

You’re not sure if you should prepare for the worst or the best, but for now, you’ll go in with an open mind to show Harry you love him and will not give up on him.

______

Harry drives for some time up an unfamiliar road. It’s full of greenery and the occasional farm animal. You aren’t sure how long he’s been going, but you’ve seen him relax through the ride, no longer gripping the wheel like his life depended on it. Instead, one hand was on the steering wheel and the other on his lap. You know that hand used to rest comfortably on your thigh where he’d give you a squeeze every few minutes to check in on you. You took it to mean I love you. Now, you’ve been tiptoeing around each other, not allowing each of you any kind of touch to each other.

He pulls up a beaten path to display a small lake with only a handful of ducks swimming around. You look at Harry, waiting for him to tell you more about where he’s brought you, but he tells you to wait for him to come around to help you. He watches your every move as he guides you out of the car. Harry begins walking up a dirt trail, he grabs your hand, placing it on his bicep, and you let him guide you. This lake is secluded, with no sign of other people and many birds chirping in the trees. It must be a place many are unfamiliar with because, from the looks of the run-down bench, there is no upkeep happening.

“Sit with me, Bel.”

You feel your heart in your throat but do as he asks. The entire ride, you have been thinking about what you were going to say, but there are so many ways this conversation can go, and the thing you want most is to walk away knowing Harry still has your heart, and you have his.

“How’d you find this place?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Harry smiles, “early days after buying my house in London, I wanted to get away without being recognized, and I kept driving until I took a wrong turn and ended up here. I like meditating here or running. There’s a start of a trail about a quarter mile away,” he points behind you to the trail you had initially started on and sees the entrance straight out of a fairytale book as if stepping behind the tree line will take you to a new world.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I enjoy it. Now don’t go breaking my heart here, Bel,” Harry jokes, trying to break the ice to this challenging conversation.

The fact that Harry has said those words to you more than once makes your chest tighten up. You hurt him, and it’s clear it's not something either of you will easily move past. You might never forgive yourself for hurting him the way you did.

“Harry, I–that’s the last thing I ever want to do. I’d break mine a thousand times before thinking of breaking your heart. I hate that you keep saying it,” you confess and know he’s heard you because he’s fallen silent once more.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “There’s so much we need to say, and I hope we can let it go here,” he offers.

You nod and turn your body to face him. This will not be easy, but you have to confront all the emotions you’ve been holding back. Harry deserves all your honesty. It’s silent for a moment, and you know Harry is waiting for you to begin because, in your eyes, he has nothing to apologize for.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” you start, your voice wavering as you fight back the tears. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Dylan. He was–he’s a big part of my past I don’t look back at because there’s so much hurt connected to when I first met him. Even when we met again, our connection was the pain he was going through and nothing more. I know I should have told you, but it didn’t seem important, not when I hadn’t seen him as anything more than a friend for years.” You’re careful to wipe away your tears, not wanting to mess with the bandage on the side of your head. “He’s a friend, one that had the honor of meeting my family, but that doesn’t change a thing for me because you’ve also met my family. You’ve seen the people who care the most about me, and they love you. I love you,” you remind him. “You don’t have to forgive me. I was selfish. You opened up to me in a way that no one ever has, baring their soul to me, and I-I think by keeping a few things close to my chest could be my way out if you ever hurt me.”

“I never planned on hurting you,” he tells you in a low tone. You hear the crack in his voice.

“I-I know,” you cry. “From the moment I met you, you showed me kindness and respect. It's why I fell in love with you. From the first moment, I felt safe with you.”

Harry cracks a smile at your confession. “I believe you. I–I hate the way I found out. That your friends still joke about him or know about his feelings towards you.”

“You have to know I would never hurt you like that. Cheating is something we’ve both shared how we’ve seen it hurt others and ourselves, and I would never forgive myself for betraying someone like that, let alone you, H.”

“Thank you.”

“As for Naomi and Sarai, I’m not sure why they said he is still in love with me. Dylan’s been a good friend throughout my career, and as far as I know, he’s very much in love with his girlfriend, Allie. He hasn’t made anything public, but he’s always going on double dates with Logan and Ana.”

Harry takes in all the information, and you no longer feel a weight on your chest, but you’re still nervous because he can accept your apology, but it doesn’t mean he forgives you.

“Do you have other secrets?” He asks.

You shake your head, “no.”

“Positive?” He teases.

“Naomi listed everything out to me if you want to check with her,” you joke. “You can really put her through the test.”

“She says you haven’t been calling,” Harry changes the subject.

You sigh, raising your hand to rub your temple, feeling the beginning of a headache coming to you. “She’s told me to call you every day. I ignored her because I felt like I couldn’t because you asked for space. Then I got into my own head, thinking I deserved the pain I felt for hurting you.”

“When you gave me that key back, I thought that was it,” he confessed.

“Oh, Harry.” You reach your hand out to him and smile when he accepts it, raising it to his lips to give you a kiss. “I felt like I had broken your trust and didn’t deserve the key and what it signified. Not when you trusted me so much. That was me respecting your space.”

“Bel–”

“Maybe it was too far,” you add, knowing that in the heat of the moment, you weren’t sure how to feel but looking back now, there’s so much you would have done differently.

“A bit,” he teased.

“I am really sorry, Harry. It was never my intention to hurt you,” you feel him squeeze your hand and let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t let go.

“I know, Bel. I know.” Harry looks out to the lake, resting your intertwined hands in his lap. “It just felt like you didn’t trust me when from the start you said honesty and communication were an important foundation to have in a relationship.”

“I trust you with my life, H. The relationship I had with him was not something I saw lasting, as I didn’t want to be known as his girlfriend. There’s a reason I never went public with him. Our views were too different.”

“Did you feel like I forced you to announce our relationship?” Harry asks, and you know he’s referring to the final night in New York.

“Not at all,” you assure him. “It was different; with you, we were taking steps to get to know each other as I traveled with you. We did things out of order, but it made me love you even more. I told you that day I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure about you. Harry, you’re the biggest constant in my life. When I feel lost, I look to you as my north star. You bring me home wherever you are.”

Harry sniffles, taking in your words. “I love you, Y/N. The love I have for you can’t even be described, and when I got those voicemails from the hospital and I–I didn’t know if you were okay. I was scared that the last memory I would have of you was walking away from me, and there was nothing I did to stop you because I was the one who sent you away.”

“Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think—I’m so sorry.”

“The relief of seeing you on the hospital bed with only a minor injury was enough to know that I’d do anything to work through this with you because I want you through the good and the bad. I want it all with you, baby.”

Harry stands up, pulling you with him, and he wraps you in a big embrace, careful not to squeeze you too tight but enough to assure himself that he’s got you safe in his arms.

“Te amo, te amo con todo mi corazón,” you promise him.

“I love you too.” He kisses the top of your head. “I forgive you.”

“H, you don’t have to say that.”

Harry pulls back, gently cupping your face, “hey, look at me.” You stare at him with tears in your eyes. “I forgive you because I love you. We’ll work through this, baby. It’s you and me.”

“Tu y yo.”

“That’s right, Bel. Now let’s get you home. You’ve been gone long enough.”

“Wait,” you stop him.

“Baby, please. Let me take you home, run you a nice bath and give you cuddles.”

You feel your face flush, thankful to know you’re going to be okay, that he loves you and you love him. That you might have been selfish, but not anymore, not when you were close to losing him. Harry is the love of your life, and you know that will never change.

“I want a kiss,” you whisper. “Can I kiss you, Harry?”

Harry melts at your words, closing the gap between you. “These lips have been lonely, huh,” he teases. “I can fix that.”

“Dork.”

He leans in, pressing his lips against yours as they move together like no time has passed. You missed his kisses and touch; you mostly missed being with him. Harry filled you with love and safety, and not having him made you realize how much you love him. Some people are lucky enough to find their other halves, their soulmates, and you know you found yours.

You know you and Harry would argue in the future, it was inevitable, but there will also be happy times, and no matter what, you would always find your way back to him.

thank you for reading mis amores 💜 come tell me what loved

taglist: @alienorknight @harry-is-on-route-66 @myfavfanficsever @springholland @michellekstyles @harryismyfwend @japanchrry @lechairr @golden-hoax @harryspirate @thurhomish @itsmycorneroftheinternet @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thelovecayon @shawnieeboyy @dontworrysunflower @a-strange-familiar @caramello-styles @seguin-styles1996 @jjsgirlp4l @nctphobia @msolbesg @soullikestyles @willowpains@sophiaedits

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles story #harry styles fanficition #harry styles fic rec #harry styles writing #harry styles angst story #angst #harry x famous reader #love on tour series

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spaghettiisinmysoul · 3 months ago

Note

Can you do F - Fever dreams for Poolverine please?

I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!! This one was tougher cause I actually had to use my brain. 🤣 I hope you like it!!!

Here’s the ao3 link!!

Here’s a fic for a prompt from this post!!

This is a dream. Wade knows it is, because he looks in the mirror and it’s… Him. Smooth skin, little bit of stubble and the perfect hair he misses so goddamn much. But something feels… Off. Heavy. Maybe it’s a headache? Or a cold? He feels like this doesn’t usually happen in his dreams.

Usually he’s frolicking through flowers, or waiting way too long in the Chipotle line, or plowing through hoards of goons with swords for hands. But now he’s in his old apartment, staring in the bathroom mirror at a face he barely remembers anymore. And he’s got what feels like a cold.

Maybe a weird dream was prompted by Logan’s near constant nightmares. He’s been helping him with them lately. They weren’t a problem when Logan first moved in, but after a few days of the Wolverine sleeping on Wade’s couch, he started waking up in the middle of the night screaming. Wade even took three claws into his skull (like a champ, might I add) when he tried waking him up before it could get that far. Partially to spare Blind Al her much needed beauty rest, but mostly because he couldn’t bear watching Logan whine and thrash the way he did. Not in this situation, at least.

“Wade?” A voice calls from the other room. It’s Vanessa. She’s wondering why he’s taking so long in here. He sighs, pushes off of the counter and turns to open the door.

It’s the Void.

He’s frozen in the doorway, one hand on the handle. He coughs, dust kicking up with the wind.

He hears her voice again, far away and calling for him desperately. His head is pounding. But he runs out of his old familiar bathroom and into a desert full of unwanted things.

Right where he belongs.

Woah, wait a minute there, unconscious! That wasn’t very nice!

He’s running for a while. It’s hard, and he keeps slipping, and his heart is pounding in his ears. But she keeps calling his name, so he keeps pushing forward.

There are trees now. He doesn’t know when they started, but he’s in a forest, and it’s cold. She’s still calling his name, though, and it’s getting quieter. She’s tired too.

“Vanessa?” He calls, and flinches as his own voice echoes all around him. “I’m here, baby, where—“

His wrist his grabbed, and when he whips his head around to see who it is… It’s Logan! Speak of the goddamn devil!

“Logan, do you know where—“ He starts practically dragging Wade further into the woods, his grip on his wrist strong. He laughs airily, “—Oh, okay. This way? Cool. Thanks.”

They walk for a while. It’s more of a speed walk, actually, with Logan leading the way with no trouble at all, and Wade slipping on wet leaves and tripping over roots of trees. He’s still out of breath, and he still feels like shit. Logan’s grip almost hurts. Vanessa hasn’t stopped calling.

Logan suddenly stops. Wade does too, looking back at him and staring for a moment, before tugging on his hand, still death gripping his wrist. “Come on, we have to find her. She’s this way, right?” The Wolverine doesn’t respond, just stares straight ahead. Wade looks that way, but there’s nothing there. “What’s over there, pean—“

He’s grabbed by the neck and slammed against a tree. The wind is knocked out of him and he can barely breathe anymore. Logan hasn’t let go of his wrist, and when he opens his eyes, they’re at the TVA. Everyone is watching him. When he looks away from Logan, who is pissed, by the way, they all stare with unblinking, expressionless eyes.

He’s afraid.

“Lo,” it’s strangled, but audible, and he tries grabbing Logan’s hand to pry it off of him. He won’t budge. “That hurts. That— Please, d—“ He gasps as the other man’s grip tightens on both his neck and his wrist. He tries to thrash away, but he can’t move. Tries kicking him, but his legs are stuck too.

“Wake the fuck up, Wade.” It’s quiet, but it’s right in his face. Wade’s eyes widen, and he tries harder, whimpering now as he pulls at his hand. Logan slams him against the wall. “Wake UP!”

“Stop!” He sits up in bed, gasping for air and sweating bullets. Maybe those are tears. He’s not sure.

He’s home, he thinks. His head is still pounding. He can’t look around the room. It makes him dizzy. He can’t take it, so he just flops back down onto his pillow heavily.

Logan dodges him by leaning forward slightly. He’s sitting on the edge of Wade’s bed, watching him with wide eyes, his hands hovering over him. “You with me, Wade?” He looks genuinely worried.

“Hey, sugar bear…” His voice is barely above a whisper. “You know, I just had this crazy dream… You were there, and Vanessa was-“

“Yeah, I know. You woke me up calling for her.” He doesn’t sound annoyed, but is still speaking bluntly as ever. “And you’re burning up.” He leans forward to press a hand against Wade’s forehead, who flinches before the impact but melts into his touch. God he’s so cool… “Can you get sick?”

Wade just half-grumbles, half-moans in response, his eyes slowly closing. Logan takes a moment, waiting for a response other than just noises, but when he doesn’t get one he sighs and stands, leaving the room.

It barely feels like a second later for Wade, and he opens his eyes to a cool wet cloth being draped over his forehead. Logan’s standing over his bed again, placing a glass of water on his bedside table and a trash can on the floor next to him. They make eye contact, and Logan’s brow is furrowed, he’s thinking.

“Thanks. Feels nice.” Wade says softly, smiling up at him.

Logan nods, glancing over at the empty space in the bed next to him. “Do you… Want me to stay with you? So I’m close, in case you need me? Or do you want to be alone?”

Wade feels too disgusting to make too elaborate of jokes, so instead he’s honest, for once in his life. He pats the bed gently, giving Logan the pathetic wet dog eyes he gives him when he wants something he knows he probably won’t get.

Logan nods, walking around to the other side of the bed and carefully moving the covers to slide in next to him. It’s awkward at first, only for him, though. Wade, on the other hand, scoots closer, turning to face Logan and snuggle up in the blankets right next to him. Logan reaches over to readjust the cloth on Wade’s forehead. He doesn’t notice. He’s too busy falling back asleep already.

Maybe it’s exhaustion from being sick for whatever reason this happened. Maybe it’s because he feels most comfortable within arms reach of Logan. Or… Maybe Logan’s just thinking about it too hard.

But he’ll stay up and keep an eye on him.

#sketti writes #poolverine #deadclaws #wolverpool #writing prompt #fic #fanfic

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eyesore-boi · 4 months ago

Text

You think that you're alone but

We are waiting for you every night...

You're mine.

Close ups and other stuff below!

...so....10 years, huh?

I cannot understate how much FNaF means to me in my life, and yeah...know that sounds a b i t much considering it's the funny har har bear games, but lemme explain-

Truth is, i was actually terrified of FNaF when it first came out! I remember my first introduction to it was when i was having a sleepover at my friend's place and he was both playing and watching other people play the first game, and when i was watching it with him, i got scared and tried to avoid the game as much as i could, even claiming to hate the game despite just knowing the first game. I was young and was prone to sheltering myself from stuff i didn't understand, and that being the first scary game i've ever seen caused that reaction, but over time...that changed.

It happened when i was watching YT and clicked on a comic dub i never seen before, thinking it was an AU for a fandom i was in (probably Undertale i dunno), but lo and behold, it was actually a fandub/animatic for the missing kids incident, and that...peaked my interest. I got curious on how this scary game actually had an interesting story to it and not just some game that goes boo. So, soon after that, i decided to look up simply "FNaF Story", found the Game Theory videos, and...the rest is history.

I was amazed and hooked, got invested in how the games explained the story in ways i've never seen before, got excited when i saw everything click together in real time, and pair that with how i got into the series r i g h t when Sister Location came out, arguably when the lore really started to kick off, i knew there was no going back now. I stuck with the series since. I watched all the animatics and dubs, listened to all the songs, tried drawing the characters, made OC's, and even talked to other people about this franchise.

And now look- Not gonna pretened this whole time it's been sunshine and (Chica's) rainbows, especially in recent times. The drop off SB caused, the lore getting more and more complicated and convoluted, the divide between older and newer fans, being the founder of Mascot Horror (for every Poppy Playtime there i s a Garten of Ban Ban) and course the IRL drama, but in all seriousness...i still wouldn't trade it for anything.

FNaF, this series, is my very first experience connecting me with a community like this, both good and bad, helping me understand how to properly enjoy media and even learn/take things from it, and i think without it i wouldn't be in the fandoms i'd be in now. The scary, horror ones, the niche, hard to find ones, story driven, character rich, and of course...more importantly...getting me into Markiplier, which further influenced the "outside the box" kind of thinking cause my g o d for these two stories you need too-

And speaking of, because of those two stories, it lead to me branching out more creativily and even creating my own webcomic for an AU combining both of them, so regardless on how that'll go, i'm just glad this series has influenced me enough to create something for others to see, since that's all i ever want to give.

But really, this franchise will forever be with me, and though i don't always agree with all of it (i haven't read any of the books in y e a r s and i refuse to do so), it only makes some of the stuff it does do right completely worth it (like the movie, peak cinema), and for where ever this bear shaped train is going next, well, i'll be here for the ride for all of it. No matter how many burning buildings it goes through.

...oh and um- Right yeah. The actual art piece. Uh....it crashed multiple times when drawing it. It's even a miracle i was able to export it. I can't even open it up anymore. So even if i wanted to change anything about it, i c a n 't -

But still pretty happy with how it came together! Was run drawing these robos, some being kinda redraws from the past, while other's i've n e v e r drawn before, so that was interesting! But still, tried to draw the "main character" so to say from each of the main FNaF games, and just kinda be...walking along through the series, nothing too deep or complex, but still interesting enough! ....unlike the fnaf storyline cause g o d how many restaurants wERE THEIR S C O T T -

But for real this is going long enough, so ima head out and do my own FNaF related things thay you don't need to worry about shush *commits arson*

HAPPY 10TH FNAF BIRTHDAY EVERYBODY!! >:DD

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hyunpic · 1 year ago

Text

list of songs hyunjin has played on his lives/recommended:

note: im probably missing some & i couldn’t put links to all of them cause apparently tumblr has a link limit 🤨

lauv: julia, lonely eyes, invisible things, paris in the rain, never not, im so tired, the story never ends, i like me better

offonff: photograph, cigarette (ft. miso & tablo), dance, bath

beyoncé: crazy in love (remix)

billie eilish: i love you, &burn, idontwannabeyouanymore, ocean eyes, before i go, tv

honne: day1, la la la that’s how it goes

christina perri: a thousand years

shawn mendes: mercy, treat you better, in my blood

dvwn: phobia

dpr live: jam & butterfly

jehwi: dear moon

leehi: rose

bts: dna, waste it on me, make it right

colde: where love begins, string (ft. sunwoojunga), the museum, wa-r-r, your dog loves you (ft. crush), control me, a song nobody knows, im in love

got7: miracle, hard carry

justin bieber: lonely

josef salvat: call on me

taemin: criminal

night off: sleep

sam kim: make up (ft. crush), like a fool, sunny days summer nights

niki: lowkey

iu: the visitor, lullaby, knees, love poem, give you my heart, my sea

cha ni: starlight

sia: snowman

akmu: happening

sunwoojunga: run with me

the black skirts: everything

korea cracker: ocean (ft. hoyeon kim)

cosmic boy: can i love?

penomeco: no.5 (ft. crush)

yerin baek: blooming memories, limit

10cm: so…., however

day6: i’ll try, love me or leave me, when you love someone, you were beautiful, congratulations, zombie, days gone by, afraid

dean: d (half moon), instagram, what 2 do, bonnie & clyde

exo: first snow, the eve, love shot

sam fischer: this city

jukjae: do you want to walk with me?, lullaby

ph-1: nerdy love (ft. yerin baek), as i told you

baekhyun: love again, un village

amine: blackjack

young k: come as you are, guard you

flume: say it (ft. tove lo)

twice: dance the night away, fancy

ariana grande: thank u, next

hajin: we all lie

about: it has to be you

caroline says: winter is cold

h.e.r: u, wait for it

bol4: to my youth

monday kiz: winter is as i wished

paul kim: the road, additional

sweden laundry: the winter

jung seung hwan: in that winter

chungha: gotta go

zion.t: no make up, snow

airman: gloomy star, i’ll be your spring (ft. j_ust)

motte: dont run away

seventeen: a-teen, super

khalid: location

lukas graham: 7 years

imagine dragons: believer

bo kyung kim: dont think you are alone

jung ilhoon: spoiler (ft. babylon)

davichi: falling in love, 이 사랑

coldplay: everglow, viva la vida

lyn: my destiny

jus2: focus on me, long black, senses (jpn version)

crush: beautiful, you and i

ed sheeran: lego house, perfect, photograph, beautiful people

croosh: why

20 years of age: x

tori kelly: paper hearts

seulgi: always

luna: do you love me? (ft. george)

wisue: someone’s shining

epik high: eternal sunshine

jp saxe: if the world was ending

seori: fairy tale

bruno mars: marry you

the weeknd: earned it, die for you

jung seunghwan: its raining, an ordinary day, dear

sam tinnesz: play with fire

post malone: motley crew

jihyo: stardust love song

kim feel: your voice

sung sikyung: solar system, heejae

younha: stardust

wonpil: a journey

taeyeon: invu, some nights, toddler, drawing our moments

nct dream: boom

ha hyunsang: 3108

huhgak: memory of your scent

se so neon: nan chun, a long dream, midnight train, stranger

umi: remember me

tvxq!: mirotic

johnny balik: honey

red velvet: psycho

new jeans: hype boy

christian kuria: losing you

cigarettes after sex: k. , each time you fall in love, sunsetz, apocalypse

dpr ian: nerves, no blueberries, 1 shot

samm henshaw: broke

woodz: drowning

kelly clarkson: underneath the tree

kimmuseum: to you who cant sleep

taylor swift: betty

lana del rey: young and beautiful

harry styles: watermelon sugar, she

pink sweat$: honesty

masego: tadow

olivia rodrigo: vampire

troye sivan: youth, for him

kai: mmmh

2pm: my house

oasis: wonderwall, hey now

mac miller: that’s on me, everybody

nothing but thieves: amsterdam

bren joy: sweet

back number: i love you

mac ayres: next to you, roses

daniel caesar: blessed, ocho rios, get you (ft. kali uchis), take me away (ft. syd), do you like me?, disillusioned

green day: dilemma

puma blue: already falling

bruno major: nothing, easily, places we won’t walk, the most beautiful thing, old soul

#hyunjin song recommendations #<- so i can find it later for updates #i spent like 3 hours writing this and putting the links shdjdndb #maybe anon from yesterday finds this helpful!

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mikeywayarchive · 4 months ago

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Mikey Way: "Don’t be so preoccupied with yesterday and tomorrow, because there’s a whole today that you’re gonna miss"

Mikey Way opens up about the importance of staying present, his ambitious new album-and-graphic-novel project with Electric Century, and working with My Chemical Romance bandmate Ray Toro again.

February 26, 2021

Words: Emily Carter

Full interview under the cut:

“If this makes someone feel better for even an hour in a day, then I think I did my job,” smiles Mikey Way. “Even if it’s one person that loves it.”

The My Chemical Romance bassist is currently unpacking the wonderful self-titled second record from his side-project with Sleep Station’s David Debiak, Electric Century. Released alongside an accompanying graphic novel and a whole new world for fans to dive in to, Mikey is aware that his latest ambitious undertaking could serve as a welcome break from the strange times we’re all living in right now… not that it was initially planned that way. That’s simply how Electric Century have always been since their inception.

“The benefit of this project is that it is a pandemic, and people aren’t able to do conventional things to release art, so it’s pretty cool – this was going to be unconventional anyway, but I think people are now more open to something unconventional,” Mikey enthuses. “We didn’t plan on touring on this. We maybe were going to play some shows – in fact, there was one that we were going to do at San Diego Comic Con. But we weren’t really going to tour on this, especially in light of, you know, I have something else going on that is touring.

“But I still felt so strongly about this album and the graphic novel that I wanted it to be exciting, and I wanted it to be fun. And I think people are ready to be immersed anywhere else – people need escapism right now. And not only that, but they also need emotional release, and I think you’ve got both: escapism is the graphic novel, and I think the music is the emotional release.”

The self-titled follow-up to 2016’s excellent For The Night Control, Electric Century does indeed provide both of those things. An 11-track effort produced by Mikey’s MCR bandmate Ray Toro, the record takes in the infectious ’80s new wave of their debut, and ramps things up even further, packing in finely-tuned musical ideas while tying in cohesively with the story of the graphic novel.

“We kept going back and revising things, and then we would sit with things for a while, and we’d add to it,” the bassist explains of why the partly-fictitious and partly-autobiographical (“That’s my sweet spot!” says Mikey, “I love mixing music with fiction”) album has taken such a long time. “One of the things that extended this project was that we wanted the graphic novel to be as great as it could possibly be, and great things take time. The graphic novel gave us the time to perfect the music, and we were able to really make sure that this is the statement we wanted to make. Even until two weeks ago we were still tweaking songs! So I think the graphic novel gave us the freedom to really make the music everything we wanted it to be.”

Here, Mikey dives into all things Electric Century – from the album’s creation, to working with Ray again, to keeping the project open-ended and continuing the story…

Was the album all created remotely or were you able to get into rooms with both Dave and Ray at various points before – or even during – the pandemic? “It was all mostly before the pandemic that we did the brunt of it; I think some time in 2018 me, Dave and Ray got together in Los Angeles and did a big chunk of it. And then the rest was done with Dave sending stuff to Ray, and me going to Ray’s house, or us sending stuff to Ray and him sending it back. We got to do it in a way that a lot of projects are done in the pandemic nowadays! That’s how this project was done before the pandemic: it was done mostly remote. There was only one time where we were all in a room together, and in fact me and Dave, before we went to Ray’s, were never in a room together. He would demo stuff, send it to me, I’d give him feedback and make edits, send it back… And then once Ray became part of the project, he joined in on this process where we were sending him things. And then it all came to a culmination of us going to Ray and recording.

“I always joke with people that me and Dave have never really played any of these songs together in a room – we’ve rarely even been in the same room when we’re creating things. And maybe that makes something special… maybe we’ve stumbled upon something where we’re making something special, far apart.”

When Dave sends you an idea or demo, is there anything in particular that you’re really listening out for? “Most artists will tell you about this thing that happens and it’s like you get this feeling in your chest or your throat when you hear something. I kinda listen for that. I want to feel something when I hear it, and stuff will jump out to me and I’ll be like, ‘Dave, that’s the one we need to hone in on.’ I know what Dave’s great at, and when I hear him reach that point I’m like, ‘Let’s explore that.’ Maybe internally it’s hard for a human being to point out what they’re great at, and I feel like I’m great at finding what’s great out of what Dave’s doing. I talk to a lot of musicians and they kinda feel the same way: it’s like, ‘Ah, man, I know what you mean!’ Most musicians have this sixth sense where, if you feel something and you know it speaks to you, then maybe it’ll speak to other people, too.”

What have you learned from working with Dave? “What I’ve learned from Dave is to just be relentless! He’s relentless; he just doesn’t stop. At any given time there will be 40 demos that he’s sent me – and even over the past few months he’s sent me a bunch. He just tirelessly makes music, and I think there’s something admirable about that. His work ethic is amazing, and I think that’s what he taught me. I mean, I knew it before, but he’s really taught me to be tenacious with things.”

You’ve spoken about needing to stay creative, always. But what was the driving force that was pulling you back to this whole concept in particular? “When Electric Century was all about to kick off, I went to rehab [in 2014], and by the end of that 30 days, I was like, ‘I don’t wanna tour anymore.’ I wanted to take care of myself, and I think it kind of set the stage for this project – in my head, it was like, ‘How can I make this fun and not have a conventional record cycle?’ I always respected what Gorillaz did and thought, ‘Well, they make it work and they’re living in a ‘fictional’ world…’ And it made me realise that it could be done. I put a pin in that for a bit, and then around 2018, towards the end of the year, Z2 reached out and were like, ‘Hey, we’d like to make a graphic novel for the next Electric Century album,’ and I was listening to them pitching it to me and the guy said, ‘Hey, I kinda see this project as something like the Gorillaz!’ and it hit me like a lightning bolt, as I’d never said that to anybody before. From that moment on I was like, ‘This is what we need to do,’ and it kind of informed the project. I want Electric Century to exist in this almost Twilight Zone world.”

Did having such a big project to meld together drive you a bit mad at points?! “Um… no! I had a lot of help from people – one of my best friends Shaun Simon co-wrote the comic with me, Dave and Ray were there to help me make the music… I feel like with an ambitious project like this, I also had ambitious people with me. Some of the most creative, hard-working people I know worked on this, so I never felt overwhelmed. I felt like, if there was ever a moment for me to feel overwhelmed, somebody would be like, ‘Yo, I’m gonna help you out!’ It was a great tag-team effort.”

How did Ray get involved when it came to production? “We were unsure of what we were going to do with it. Dave had somebody that he loved working with, but they both felt it wasn’t a good match for the project – it was a mutual thing, which is fine. So then the first name that popped into my head was Ray – I was like, ‘Oh, Ray! He can do this!’ He did a tester song with Alive, and Dave was sold – we were just blown away. It’s funny about that song, too, because when I was in rehab [in 2014], Dave came to visit me – he brought a tape recorder with a cassette in it with Alive, and it was just him and an acoustic guitar. And I listened to that thing for probably a month straight – I was just lost in it, and I kept imagining all the things we could do with it. I kept roadmapping it in my head. That was the one that I kept going back to – I was like, ‘It’s got to be the song.’ And I think we succeeded with that; I think Alive is the anchor of the whole thing.”

Were there any conversations with Ray about, ‘Hey, you can tweak things as much as you see fit’ because you have so much trust in him? “Oh yeah, we let Ray do whatever he wanted! We were like, ‘Get as crazy as you want.’ We were excited to get his guitar on there, and his vocals are on there a lot as well. There’s a ton of Ray Toro on that album, and I’m super-excited about it. Just getting to hear his solos makes me happy – he’s one of the greatest guitar players on planet earth, doing what he does best. Getting to hear that on a record again made me so happy. He’s one of the best there is, and everybody knows that.”

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What made Till We’re Gone the first song to show people ahead of release – was it a case of it opens the album and welcomes people into this world, so it was always going to be the first song people would hear? “For me, Till We’re Gone is a great way to explain our sound, if you listen to it. It sets the stage – like when you watch a movie and you see the opening credits, and all the actors’ names cycle through! I feel like, when I listen to that song, I picture a movie starting. And not only that, but just sonically it’s everything that Electric Century does best, I think, in one song. And it’s also short and sweet. It’s got a very traditional song structure, and I feel like that’s the best first taste for this album.”

When we last spoke, you mentioned how the album sort of came before the graphic novel, and you had to create the story around that. Was the album tracklist quite easy to fit together, or did you have to rearrange songs to fit in with the story to make everything cohesive? “What’s interesting is – and when I look back on it all – when we did that initial interview, the album has changed since then. I feel like we were able to use that time to fix things. So there’s a bunch of songs we added, there’s a bunch of songs we fixed. I think that time allowed us to properly marry the two things, and make the songs fit the story that we’d written and vice-versa. When we did those initial interviews, the album was a little bit different, and a whole bunch of songs got added.”

The album begins with these thumping drums on Till We’re Gone, but then it ends on Someday We Will Sing Again which is so stripped back, and the complete opposite of the opener. What was the process of creating that musical journey? “I like the concept of this big, bombastic opening, and this stripped-back, raw ending. I feel like that’s how we’re put on this earth: we’re loud and bombastic as babies, and then we’re frail and raw when we’re elderly. I feel like that’s a good story arc for an album, and I felt being raw and exposed on that last album was a good juxtaposition for everything you’re gonna hear when you go through the journey. And then it’s the same thing with the story: the story kind of follows a similar arc as well.”

Would you say that this is a more emotional album than For The Night To Control? “A lot of emotion was channelled into this record, in all its forms. Dave was going through a lot – but of course that’s for him to talk about. But that is exactly what art is: you use it as an outlet to work out your feelings, both positive and negative. Ultimately that is what makes what you create whole and hopefully what the listener can relate to.”

You’ve spoken about mixing fiction with real life in your work – is there any song that you could pinpoint as the most autobiographical on Electric Century? “Alive – that’s a good one that I just like to kind of remind myself: be present, be alive. That whole sentiment of, ‘Your best moments are actually right here, right now.’ And that’s one of the themes of the graphic novel as well. People kind of romanticise about ‘the good old days’, or ‘when we were kids or teenagers it was so cool…’ but maybe the best days are right here, and maybe you’ve been wishing to be where you’re standing right now and you don’t even realise it. That’s the theme of the graphic novel, and that song especially. It’s a simple thing: be alive. I feel like that’s something I try to remind myself on a daily basis. And especially in light of what’s happening in the world. A lot of people feel like they’re in some strange purgatory – I think everyone feels that. And I think that song is going to speak to a lot of people.”

Is there anything that this project taught you about yourself? In terms of the storyline and putting yourself in that nostalgic headspace, did it make you realise anything? “It’s something that I’ve always suspected, but I’ve talked at length with people about it, where it’s like, ‘Don’t be so preoccupied with yesterday and tomorrow, because there’s a whole today that you’re gonna miss. There’s a whole today going on.’ We’re all guilty of that – and especially now when we’re all stuck inside and we can’t go anywhere, or do anything that we used to love on the outside world. And it’s like, ‘Well, maybe right here is where we’re supposed to be right now.’ You have to kind of hop into that perspective and realise that we’re all here for some reason, and we have to roll with it and make the best out of the situation right now.”

For people who’ve listened to For The Night To Control this is obviously just the next logical step, but are you nervous in any way, or is it more like, ‘Yep, of course people are gonna like it if they liked the last one’? “That’s kind of what I feel about this: if you liked the last album then you’re going to love this one even more, you know? We had a lot more time to do it, and I feel like we’re all older and wiser. I’m 40 now – I was in my early 30s when we made the last one! It’s almost a decade on from when Electric Century started, and I feel this is the complete sentence. The last one was like we were getting our feet wet and figuring it out, and this one feels like we figured it out.”

Is that your proudest takeaway about this entire project? “Well, what I’m proud about is that I didn’t expect this! I didn’t expect to make an album and graphic novel – it started out as an album and as time went on it grew and grew, and it’s something I’m proud of. It’s very ambitious, and I didn’t see it coming. It was that fateful call with Z2 – they said things to me and I was like, ‘That’s what we need to do.’ I’m proud of that, and I feel like it’s mission accomplished in terms of what I want Electric Century to sound like. I feel like we’ve reached the point I wanted it to be – it sounds exactly as I wanted it to sound.”

Could you see a sequel – both musically and with the graphic novel – happening some day down the line? “Yeah! Honestly, the graphic novel leaves everything wide open. It introduces us to a world, and you can easily revisit this world. And that’s another beauty of this project. I was blessed to work with a lot of amazing professionals, and this whole thing never once felt like a drain or a drag. It was a delight from the beginning to the end, and it’s somewhere we can revisit if we want to!”

Electric Century is out now along with an original graphic novel published by Z2 Comics.

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