#you can't marry him without jumping to another universe

[furylad]

bro this is so funny you actually DO need to jump to another universe, reveal yourself as Starborn, take Barrett to get his own Starborn powers, then do his romance quest, and ONLY THEN will he feel mentally and emotionally prepared to commit

this is even funnier if he dies in your first run for romantic angst reasons like I did, because on top of all that ^ he also had to die first

men will literally die and be reborn in another universe and split themselves into two people before just going to therapy smh

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME #11.5 SPECIAL

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Let’s start from the beginning one last time.

Word count: 5,800

Warning: Heavy angst and character death. Dead Dove do not eat.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

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Let’s start from the beginning one last time. 

My name is Miguel O’Hara, and in an experiment gone wrong, my genetic code was partially rewritten with Spider DNA, giving me superpowers.

My home is Earth 928-C where I was the one and only Spiderman... of my home dimension at least.

I invented and built a dimensional travel device that allowed me to jump between universes with the goal of exploring the limits of the multiverse. 

And then I met a woman in this other world who nearly died from a crazy freak accident.

I saved her of course.

Then I saved her again.

And again, and again.

... And again.

We fell in love, and I decided to stay with her in her world.

You know the rest. We got married. We had a life together.

I was happy. Really happy. 

For a while.

[Earth 383-D]

3 YEARS AGO

"Goddamn idiot bird," Miguel mutters under his breath.

Vulture is on the loose again, wreaking havoc on the city. The maniac is flying high above the city grounds, leaving a trail of mayhem in his wake. 

Miguel's been in pursuit for the better half of two hours. In that time, the bird has derailed the High Line, literally hit a traffic light and managed to knock over the spire on the Statue of Liberty as if he was flying under the influence.

Then somehow flew across town through Tribeca, along Lower Manhattan and Greenwich Village and now reached all the way to Midtown Manhattan. 

Dumbass ugly stupid bird. 

Miguel digs his claws into the exterior of the limestone and granite of the Empire State Building to steady himself, using the momentum to leap forward.

The Vulture crashes into a skyscraper 50 feet ahead of Miguel, and in the mad dash, he can see a man tumble out of the building head first to the ground from the 30th floor. 

Swinging forward, Miguel slings out a web from his palm, catching the screaming and sobbing office worker in midair and lands briefly against the windowpane. He ensures the man is secured to the building in a cocoon of webbing until the fire department can get him to safer grounds.

Miguel doesn't even get a second to catch his breath. From afar, he can pick up the sound of another window being crashed into by the unwieldy metal bird. 

Crap. 

It's impossible for Miguel to both chase the Vulture and keep everyone else in his path of destruction safe. One superhero can't be in two places at once (none that he has encountered).

Gritting his teeth, Miguel leaps off the building swinging freely into the air to make up on the lost ground between him and the metallic cuckoo bird.

He needs backup, and the backup is unfortunately running late.

Where is he? Why is he always late?

Does that man not understand that when someone calls for backup because of an emergency, the emergency part indicates that there's some urgency to it?

Flying through the air 100 feet above the ground, from the corner of his eyes, Miguel catches the familiar garish red flowing cape that billows from the cowl of the grand cloak and suit. 

Miguel would know that weird wizard get-up anywhere. 

"Strange!" Miguel calls out, and he can feel irritation rattle in his chest. "You're late! Where the shock were you?"

"The word you're looking for is 'fuck.' Where the fuck was I," the man responds with a sarcastic drawl.

Strange levitates through the air, effortlessly without expending any energy at all as he catches up with Miguel. "You gave me no notice. Be happy I showed up at all."

From a distance he sees the dumb bird soar high up into the sky and towards the all too familiar crowned roof of the Chrysler building. 

No. nononono. 

Why is he there? What is he doing there? Anywhere but there. 

His back flashes cold then burning hot as the Vulture makes a straight beeline for the familiar building.

It’s fine. Maybe he’s not going to fly in there. Maybe he’s just going to fly past it.

Miguel watches as the metallic bird soars up and up and up, past the midpoint of the building, past the 40th floor of your office and up to the 50th floor. The tight squeeze in his chest eases.

Then the vulture stops, mid-flight and looks down below, as if he changed his mind, before he descends again. 

Shit! Shit! SHIT!

He dives into one of the windows between the 40th and 50th floor. The sound of broken glass and shrill screams can be heard even from where Miguel is. 

Blood freezes in his veins and nausea overtakes him. Calm down. Breathe.. Maybe you’re not in. After all, Lyla’s security protocols would’ve been activated by now if you were. He would’ve been alerted. 

Soaring through the skies, Miguel reaches over to his wrist to punch in the dial for Lyla to check in and reassure himself you're safe. But his tracker blinks back in an alarming red, and he darts down his head towards the display.  

Error. 

His heart stops. 

The flying silhouette reappears through the shattered windows and the metallic harness strapped onto the vulture gleams bright against the sun.

It’s only then it hits him. Lyla's been deactivated by the madman's stupid Electro-Magnetic Harness. 

Why hadn't he foreseen that as a technical flaw?

Against the reflective glass panes, Miguel sees you, caught in the Vulture talons like a mouse captured by a large predatory bird. Every hair on his neck stands on end. His vision bleeds into red, blood roaring at the sight of it.

Kill him.

Miguel's gonna murder that freak for touching you. Crush his windpipe so he can't ever squawk again, then rip his throat out with his claws and feed it to the street pigeons for good measure.

Launching himself through the air, Miguel tears up the side of the building. The tempered glass beneath his claws and feet, shatters into sharp jagged pieces as he closes the distance. 

He is almost within reach. Only some 30 feet that still separates you from him. Leaping the final distance he slams hard into the side of the Vulture until metal crunches beneath his feet. 

Miguel roars until his throat burns with it. Palms gripping at the man’s jaw and prying it back to get at his bare throat. His fangs are ready to sink into the jugular. He can see the dark pupil of Vulture's eyes dilate with fear. 

Good. Miguel's anger will be the last thing this freak sees.

"Miguel calm down," Strange shouts at him from behind. "You're gonna knock her off."

Miguel freezes at the warning, forcing himself to hold still as he looks down to where you are dangling precariously from the Vulture's claws.

"Be ready," Strange shouts, and Miguel looks to him, not understanding what the hell he means. 

Strange rests his hand over the shiny blue gem hanging around a chain from his neck.

What does he mean by be ready? What is Strange going to do?

"What'd you mea–"

Miguel doesn't have a chance to finish the rest of his sentence. An unnatural force vibrates through him. A pulsating wave that pervades his senses, punching through his lungs and knocks him back. 

In an instance, you're propelled away from Strange and the Vulture, and you are freefalling towards the ground below.

Miguel leaps mid-air, arms outstretched to catch you as you plummet towards the ground below. His fingers clasps around your wrists, your warm skin against his fingertips.

He's got you!

Taking hold of you by the arm, Miguel pulls you into his chest as he wraps one arm securely around your waist.

Immediate relief fills him from the inside out as the adrenaline and the searing anger is already starting to fade now that he knows you're safe.

"You okay, nena?" he asks.

You nod, arms finding purchase around the back of his neck, and squeeze down tight. He swings you both to the safety of a nearby rooftop.

There's barely time for him to touch the surface, he hears the nearby explosion and sees Vulture crash into the concrete wall of the nearest building. 

Strange is levitating nearby, hands making wild gestures, presumably to perform some hocus pocus ritual. There’s a magical glow as strobes of light manifest out of thin air surrounding the Vulture from all sides and wrapping around him in a restraining bind.

Miguel sets you down. You're a little bit wobbly on your feet, and seeing you stumble the way you do has that protective streak spark anew in his chest.

Stupid Strange. He can't just do shit like that. 

What if Miguel hadn't reacted in time? What if you had fallen? 

This is why Miguel hates working with the guy, even if they’re friends. Always on his moral high horse about Miguel being reckless, then he pulls shit like this.

"Everyone alright?" Strange asks as he levitates through the sky to set feet close to you both on the rooftop.

Miguel grits his teeth with annoyance at the man’s casual demeanor when he nearly threw you out of the sky.

"Shock you, Strange," he spits out.

"Miggy..." you sigh in a reprimanding tone next to him. 

Stephen shakes his head at him. "I told you. It's fuck"

"Fuck you, Strange."

Sanctum Sanctorum is closer than home and Strange has, comfortable sofas in his ridiculously big mansion. Big enough sofas that Miguel can actually lounge in them comfortably without it feeling cramped. It's why, given the choice, he always prefer to regroup there, over your tiny apartment.

Besides, while the man's control over his magical powers can be suspect at times, he used to be a doctor. Supposedly one of the leading brain surgeons in the world, and Miguel is a lot more comfortable at the prospect of Strange giving you a checkover to make sure you don't need further medical attention than trying your luck at one of the local ERs.

"Follow my finger," Strange says as he shines a little flashlight into your eyes and moves his index from side to side. 

Your eyes follow him dutifully, and Strange proceeds with the rest of his medical check, asking you the boring standard questions. "Any symptoms of dizziness, lightheadedness, or a sense of vertigo?"

He fires them out in rapid succession, and a bit too perfunctory for Miguel's liking.

"Noticed any changes in your vision, blurriness or double vision, etcetera etcetera?"

Miguel's jaw tic in irritation at how Strange is putting in minimal effort and just going through the motions.

"Yeah, you're fine." Strange pats your knees, then whisks the flashlight away into nothingness with his cape.

That medical check wasn't anything close to thorough. Miguel crosses his arms over his chest. "Are you sure? Her feet were wobbly before, I wanted to make sure she didn't sprain her ankle."

"A little bit overprotective as always aren't we?" Strange says.

Miguel shoots the man a glare and Stephen sighs, "Her reflexes are fine, I don't think anything's sprained."

"Check again, you seemed sloppy," Miguel accuses.

"You know, I'm doing this as a favor because you’re a friend. Do you have any idea how much a medical examination by one of the leading neurological surgeons in the world would cost you normally?"

"I'll have Lyla transfer the money."

“No, it’s not actually about money just–" Stephen shakes his head, then sighs. "Nevermind.”

He gestures for you to drape your leg across his lap, then he reaches over to gently assess your ankle as requested.

"What is this necklace?" You ask. You lean closer to Strange, inspecting the blue gem where it rests against his chest.

Strange swats at your hand, the way an adult scolds a child with sticky chocolate smeared hands trying to touch the fine china.

"It's a protection amulet. When activated it forms a protective barrier that forcibly repels everything within ten feet of you."

"Huh," you reach back for the amulet undaunted by the earlier reprimand, fascinated and clearly enamored by it. "I'll give you fifty bucks for it."

Strange looks offended. "It's not for sale, and if it was it would certainly be worth a lot more than fifty dollars. It's a genuine magical artifact, not fake costume jewelry from the theater department."

You purse your lips, considering the amulet.

"Forty," you offer.

Miguel has to choke back a snorting laughter in his throat at the way Stephen's eyes goes wide in confused outrage.

"Wait, why is the price going down?"

“We’re in the middle of an economic crisis, Stephen,” you counter.  

Strange's head darts over to where Miguel sits, presumably for backup, but he's knocked on the wrong door. The man must be mad if he thinks that there is ever a world where Miguel would side against you.

"Strange, we both know it’s easier if you just give her the amulet." Miguel says. 

The man sighs, shaking his head in defeat.

"Be careful with it," he says as he drags the chain over his head to place it in your awaiting palms. "And don't lose it like the invisibility amulet with Mysterio. Had to spend a whole month clearing up your mess when that creep used it to get into the women's locker rooms at every local gym in Greenwich!"

"That wasn’t my mess! Miggy lost that one during an aerial fight. You can't blame that on me."

"You married him, so you're responsible for him. I consider you two jointly to blame."

"Now you're just lashing out," you shoot back.

Miguel watches the two of you in patient boredom, his head propped up by an elbow on the arm of the sofa. He expended way too much energy during the fight, and now he needs to refuel. 

If Miguel leaves you two to it, you'll spend an eternity bantering, the way you do. His stomach growls. He wants food. Wants wantons and beef ho fun and a dozen custard salted egg buns for dessert. And the longer you two are at it, the longer it's going to take for him to get it.

"Nena," he calls out, "I'm hungry. Are you two done? I want to go for dinner."

You shoot Miguel a quick smile, pulling out your wallet and take out a wad of green bills then fold it into Strange's hand with a happy grin.

Strange looks down at the crumpled up money in his hand. "Wait, you're only giving me thirty? I thought we said forty."

"You still owe me like ten bucks from mini golf last week."

Strange pockets the money with a grumble. "Unbelievable." 

“C’mon,” Miguel says as he stands up and gestures to the both of you with a curt nod of his head towards the door. “Let’s go. I’ll pay for dinner this time,” Miguel says, and that seems to abate Strange’s outrage somewhat as the man grabs your coat from the sofa cushions and offers it to you.

Life on Earth 383-D is strange.

Life here is borderline primitive. The technology is something out of the stone ages.

Social media is a wasteland. Reality TV is a dystopian concept. And he doesn't understand who Kardashian is or why everyone is obsessed with her and her family. 

He does like fax machines though. They are basically teleportation machines and it boggles him that the people of your dimension do not seem to understand its potential.

The one thing he will give this version of earth credit for is that the food here is nice. Everyone in his home dimension is too health conscious, and fried food has long been banned by the government for the long term damage it does to the cardiovascular system. 

He also likes the life that the two of you have built together here. You have a home in that tiny shoebox apartment. You have friends. Strange friends. Like the Doctor who flies around with the help of a magic cape and now practices the mystic arts after a gap year in Asia. A young girl whose main superpower is the ability to communicate with squirrels. Then there’s that ugly red-masked wise-cracking, katana-wielding maniac who never dies.

Sadly, your friends are not the only thing that is strange about your surroundings.

Miguel perches himself on top of the Chrysler building sitting hunched over on the ledge of the roof. He’s drained and bone-tired, chasing down a helicopter that had gone haywire and was hurtling towards your office building. 

Luckily Strange was able to assist and sent it through a magic portal to crash into the Atlantic without putting any lives at stake. 

"Just had to do some cleaning up," Strange says as he sets his boots back down on the ground. 

Miguel doesn't answer him, staring out at the city view and the setting sun as he takes a well earned breather for a moment or two. New York is a bit of a shit hole, but it does look pretty from a high viewpoint, especially when the sun is setting, Miguel has to give this city that.

It's silent between the two of them. Or at least it is until Strange decides to break it with a harkle of his throat. When Miguel doesn't react the man does it again, coughing discreetly in a clear attempt to get his attention.

Miguel doesn't say anything about the man's sore throat. He ran out of the lemon drops you bought him as snacks hours ago, but he does tilt his head up at the man.

"She's been getting into a lot of these incidents lately. More than usual, more than any normal human for it to be a coincidence" Strange says.

The whole of Miguel's back stiffens.

"Have you noticed the abnormal uptick in strange unexplainable supernatural occurrences lately? Indoor tornadoes. The rain of poisonous frogs outside of whole foods. A sinkhole appearing right next to the cafe your wife frequents."

Miguel doesn't love the insinuations. Even with his lips pressed tightly together, Miguel can feel the small muscle in his jaw flex like a nervous tic at the mention of it. Because yeah, he's noticed, kind of hard to miss when your wife's life is in constant peril at all hours of the day.

Ice storms in July that hit right outside your workplace. An inexplicable solar flare causing a blackout that had every single vehicle within a 5 miles radius go haywire in the dark near your apartment. A swarm of mutated mosquitoes with a venomous bite that chased you down Central Park. 

The incidents are occurring more frequently. They are also getting increasingly bizarre and dangerous.

No one can say it’s just bad luck when the daily occurrences around you are defying the very laws of nature itself. Something isn't right with the universe, and he's not sure what else there is to do except pretend that everything is still ok.

"What are you implying?" Miguel asks through gritted teeth. 

But for the first time in the years that Miguel has known him, Strange's talkativeness is nowhere to be found. He doesn't answer Miguel. He's smart that way, the clever bastard. Knows that if he says one wrong word, Miguel is going to unhinge his jaws like a feral alligator and snap at him. 

Strange has said what he needed for Miguel to know exactly what he's getting at. The man just meets his eyes with an intentional stare, not shying away from Miguel's glare.

It's not like the thought hasn't crossed Miguel's mind. Not like it hasn't been keeping him up at night, every night.

Even though you've always been accident prone and suffered from bad luck, at this point it's a mathematical impossibility that anyone would run into as many near death incidents as you have.

This isn't by chance. It's by design. Miguel's suspected as much for a while now. He just doesn't know whose design and why.

"It's not her fault," Miguel spits out.

"I never said it was."

"Even if what you are saying is true..." Miguel stops, and stares down at his fisted palms with a sinking feeling in his guts. "There's nothing she can do about it to stop it. You can't put that on her."

"Whether she knows about it or not, if it's true, none of this is going to go away.

Strange walks over to where Miguel is, sitting down next to him.

"It’s been escalating in severity," he continues. "There are strange universal energies attached to her. There’s warping of the universal order and space around her. We don't know how bad this can get, if we don’t do anything about this, it could unravel the fabric of reality itself."

Despite the calamity of what Strange is implying, his voice is even and calm as he says it as if he might as well be discussing the weather. That trait has always annoyed the shit out of Miguel.

"What are you planning to do if this continues?" Strange asks.

It's such a silly question. Strange says it as if this is a multiple choice question. But for Miguel there's only one correct answer. 

"Protect her. I have to. She's everything to me."

Miguel is staring into the sunset bu all he sees before him is your face even though you aren’t here. The happy smile that he wants to preserve forever. He tries to fight the ache that's building in him at the thought that it would go away.

"Strange, don't tell her. Please. She doesn't need that burden."

He fists his palms into his side.

Miguel never liked asking for help, but even he knows that if what Strange is saying is true. That if the universe for some unfathomable reason wants you dead, then he's going to need all the help he can get.

If Strange has figured it out. Then it's only a matter of time before others do as well.

Soon enough, you won't just have the universe coming after you but every superhero and villain combined in a united front to take out the common threat that you pose to this entire universe.

Even Miguel knows he can't do this alone and as much as that helplessness tastes like failure and bile in his throat, he can swallow his pride if it helps keep you safe.

"Stephen, you have to help me save her."

From behind, Strange rests one hand on the corner of his shoulder. The weight of it feels like a promise being made. For the first time in a long time, Miguel feels like he can breathe just a little bit easier.

"I will do what I can, my friend."

Weeks go by. There are more incidents. Runaway vehicles that go haywire. Electrical storm fires. Rain of poisonous locusts. 

Somehow he manages to protect you from it all. 

It just means that he has to be more vigilant, that's all. The universe doesn't rest and neither does Miguel now. Lyla has been set on constant alert to wake him up whenever he's napping at any small signs of abnormal occurrences happening near you, with an electric shock to make sure he wakes. Something the A.I. is taking a worryingly amount of glee in (which probably means he needs to retune her programming when he has time).

And today, today Miguel was meant to have a Sunday lie in. Universe be willing, his goal was to sleep all the way into the late afternoon and then you had promised to take him to IHOP and get him all the pancakes he could eat for late breakfast.

But right now he's not asleep. He's trying to. But there are hushed words and whispered murmurs, buzzing in his ear that keeps trying to drag him away from sleep.

It's you and Strange.

Judging from the distance of the noises, you're both standing outside in the hall. The fact that you two are trying to be quiet makes it worse. If you'd spoken in normal volume he could tune it out as white noise, but the conspiratorial quietness of it all makes the hair on the back of his neck tingle with alertness.

Fuck's sake. He swears to god if you two are gossiping and making fun of Hercules’ costume (or the lack of it) again.

It's too early for this crap. Don't you two know that people are trying to sleep? He was up all night chasing crazy Kraven worshippers releasing animals from the Brooklyn zoo. Miguel had to gather wild zebras and crocodiles all the way down East Village til 4am.

With a groan, he drags himself halfway up along the mattress, about to go and growl at you both to be quiet, when the cluttered noises register as words and the fuzziness of sleep clears momentarily.

"He'd destroy this world for you."

Huh? What are you two talking about?

Miguel's too groggy to make sense of the context of what's being said. Even with his super hearing he has to focus to make out the words.

"You can't let him."

Irritated, he gets out of bed and walks to the front door to swing it open. The first thing he sees is you standing with Strange in the hallway. You jump at the suddenness and look up at him with wide eyes.

You have the worst poker face of anyone he's ever seen in his life.

"What are you two jabbering on about this damn early?" he asks.

He'd expected the two of you to act coy, maybe a clever 'wouldn't you like to know' retort back from the Mystic. Instead, Strange's face is entirely inscrutable, tone serious as he responds.

"We were just catching up. Nothing important. I need to head back," Strange says, then he turns to you with a meaningful tilt to his head. "Think about what I said."

"What was that about?" Miguel asks you as he watches Strange step through a portal and disappear.

You don't say anything. There's a worried frown etched between your eyebrows as you bite down on your lip.

Something crawls under Miguel's skin at the whole interaction.

You're oddly quiet the whole afternoon. Deep in thought and walking around as if in a daze, which unsettles him.

It's not difficult for him to guess what's wrong. He might have been half asleep when you and Strange were whispering in the corridors, but Miguel can put one and one together. Having two PHDs and a lifetime's experience of working in theoretical physics gives you that leg up.

In a last ditch effort to get you out of the uncharacteristic blues, he orders a dozen of your favorite cupcakes from that tiny shop in New Jersey. It costs an arm and a leg to have it couriered, but it'll be worth it if it makes you smile. 

Then he sits down next to you on the bed and places the pink pastry box down on the mattress. It's your favorite place to eat cakes and it’s why you two always end up with crumbs and frosting all over the sheets.

You happily cram half a cupcake into your mouth in one bite as you eat, and he watches you contently. If there was any fairness in the world, this quiet idyllic moment could last forever. In a good world, Miguel wouldn’t have to burst this perfect bubble. 

Sadly, this world is neither fair nor good sometimes. 

"Strange said something to you right?" Miguel asks. 

You still next to him, clearly torn between whether or not to share what was said to you, probably in secret with the very intention of being kept away from him. 

“Nena,” Miguel tries again, and you close your eyes taking a deep breath, caving into his prodding. 

"Strange thinks that my incidents might be correlated with the strange natural occurrences lately."

That fucking asshole. He knew it. Irritation pings across his jaw, and Miguel bites it down. He tries to reel it, forcing back the rant that wants to surface. Instead he tries to focus on you instead of his own anger. 

"We don't know that. It could just be a series of coincidences," Miguel tells you. 

You nod, but Miguel's not an idiot and neither are you. He can see the worry creasing your eyes as you look down to your lap. 

Putting down the cupcake, he reaches over and links his right hand with yours. 

"Nena, don't worry.” He cups his free hand over your cheek to drag you up to meet his eyes.

“I'll fight the whole universe to keep you safe if I have to. Nothing's ever going to harm you so long as I'm here. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. You're the most important thing to me."

You smile at him at the words, but there's a wistfulness to it that embeds a dull ache in his chest that he wants to physically rub away to make it stop.

You lean into his touch, until your forehead presses up against his and the physical touch blunts the ache in him for a moment, putting it on pause. 

"You’re the most important to me too," you say.

The sky itself cracks open not long after. 

It doesn’t take the combined forces and intellect of the entire world too long to hone in on you being the root cause. Soon enough every superhero, mutant, villain and alien starts coming after you. Because hero or villain alike, no one truly wants their world to end, not if it’s not on their terms. 

Mysterio tries to kidnap you by the elevator in your apartment building. The Human Torch even tries to burn the whole building down. The Punisher tries to murder you point blank outside your office.

Miguel can’t remember the last time he slept. He’s running on fumes. Day after day, he feels like he’s getting by on borrowed time. 

The friends and allies you have thin out fast as the threats to the world increase in severity. Miguel never imagined having Deadpool standing outside his door stating that the life of one single person cannot outweigh the universe itself. 

It’s all so stupid. None of them know what they’re talking about. A lynching mob with their torches and pitchforks. Never stopping to think whether harming you could trigger something much worse.

If Strange is right and you are the knot at the center of the fabric of reality that is coming apart, then ripping that out leaves a hole. Miguel gave up on explaining that fairly quickly because he realized that theoretical consequences doesn’t matter to an angry mob scared of facing the reality of extinction. 

It all becomes a blur. 

Exhaustion eats into his bones, until he can no longer tell the days apart. No matter how many times he saves you, disaster is always waiting just around the corner. 

And now he’s chasing down the Green Goblin to the top of the Chrysler building from the 61st floor, where the green freak has cornered you to the edge of the rooftop.

Miguel is already out of breath, running away from the coalition of superheroes and villains that are hot on his heels, trying to stop him from saving you. 

Adrenaline beats fast in his veins as he keeps running. Miguel is only able to make out those in pursuit in brief glimpses. The bright blue spandex suit of Reed Richards as his freakishly long elastic limbs stretch towards him. The blocks of metal hurtling towards Miguel, missing by inches and crashes into the side of a building as Magneto’s form hovers nearby. 

He ignores them all, not sparing a glance behind him. He just has to keep moving. It doesn't matter that his muscles scream and burn in exhaustion. Doesn't matter that his head dulls with a heavy ache from lack of sleep. He has to keep going for you. Has to save you.

He's so close, he's almost there.

From the corner of his eyes, he makes out the familiar garish red flowing cape fluttering against the blue sky.

Strange.

Miguel marginally relaxes, at the sight of the sole ally he has left in this universe. He leaps across the rooftop, into the temporary safety of the observatory deck.

His feet doesn't even reach the ground. Something restrains him from behind. Bright lights materialize out of thin air. It wraps around Miguel's limb with the strength of unbreakable manacles, hugging him so tight it restricts the flow of blood to his fingers. Then he’s brought down to his knees. 

Miguel whips his head back and Strange stands there, hands formed in a holding gesture.

“What are you–”

"I'm sorry," Strange says.

Miguel snarls at his restraints, wrenching and twisting in every direction he is able to even with the limited range of motion, but it's to no avail. The harder he struggles the more forceful the restraints seem to close in on him, mirroring his strength.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this. I really hoped there was another way but every life in the whole of the universe is at stake, Miguel."

Hot burning anger spears through him, and if he could he would raze it all to the ground with it. This place, this world and this fucking traitor standing there can all fucking burn. Miguel is gonna kill him. He's gonna kill this fucking bastard. He can't believe he trusted him.

“Strange, fucking let me… Stephen!”

He hears your pained shout and snaps his head towards the sound.

Miguel is only ten feet away from you. Ten measly feet from where the Green Goblin is holding you by the ledge of the rooftop. He can still reach you, if he can get free he can still save you. 

Tearing through the magical binds, there’s a bone-cracking sound in his shoulder. Searing pain spreads through his arm. For all his struggles, he doesn't know if he’s even an inch closer towards you. 

He watches you drop from the ledge. 

It's a pin drop moment where everything stops. His heart is no longer beating. 

No. This can't be how it ends.

He's moving forward, even as the sharp restraints digs into his limbs and flesh and burrows in with an excruciating ache. But the pain doesn't matter. All that matters is you.

It claws into him, and digs and tears, until he is sure that his entire limbs are going to be torn off, but he doesn't stop, keeps pulling against the resisting strength that surrounds him, rips against the hindrance embracing every ounce of the pain until finally, the pressure gives.

There's a cacophony of sound that's left behind him as he leaps through the air. He slingshots downwards, cutting through air as he tries to reach you.

Miguel catches your hand and relief fills his chest.

"I got you. I got you," he murmurs. He's not sure if those words are to calm you or himself.

Pulling you up in defiance of the pull of gravity, he tries to haul you up towards him. Your hand squirms in his, and if you keep going you're going to slip out of his grasp.

"Nena, don't move," he shouts in alarm, but you don't stop, twisting in all directions, making it harder for him to get a better grip.

What're you– You're resisting against his strength, why would you...

It hits him with a sickening realization.

You don' want him to save you.

"Stop!" he shouts. “Stop!”

You shake your head, tears filling the corner of your eyes that flow upwards and everything is upside down to him. 

"We’re out of time. You have to let me go,” you say. 

His fingers squeeze down even harder at your words, refusing to hear it. 

“There's still time. There are still other options. I can still save you!” 

Your hand reaches for the amulet pressed against your collarbone. Dread floods every nerve in his body as he sees your fingers squeeze around it.

"No!" He shouts. Screams it so loud it burns in his lungs. But deep down he knows it's not going to make any difference. "Nena, don't!"

The wind whips too loudly against his face. The sound of your heart pounding so painfully hard in his ear that it's deafening and he knows that sound will haunt him forever. 

You're scared.

He sees your lips move, but he can't hear what you're saying.

But he's heard these words so many times before from your lips that he knows them by heart. 

''I love you.''

An invisible force blasts away at him, it shatters through him through his limbs and torso into the very soft tissue of his stomach and makes his teeth shake. He's propelled upwards, unable to control his movements or defy the gravity that he's learned to navigate after all these years mid-air.

He holds on as hard as he can to your hand, but it doesn't matter. His fingers slip, his grip is lost.

You're falling through the sky.

Miguel doesn't remember much after that.

Somehow he makes it back onto the ground.

Somehow he finds you amongst the cracked dirty concrete. 

Somehow, despite falling from over a 100 feet your body is still intact where it lies lifeless on the ground.

Your bones are broken though. Body limp and soft in his arms in a way that has never felt more wrong to him. His only consolation is that you're still warm in his arms, and he thinks that maybe if he just doesn't let go, if he holds you tightly pressed to him the way he is doing now, it'll remain that way forever.

The sky has cleared above. There are no cracks in the azure blue canvas.

This world is saved. 

His world has ended. 

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To @thirstworldproblemss who has been with me on this journey since chapter one without her enthusiasm and her companionship and friendship and listening to my wild ramblings about this story, I would never have set out to write this thing. She gave me so much joy in the process, she also gave me her time and her skills and brainy talent to help me process and brainstorm this into a shape that I was excited to share with you all! You also have her to thank for that devastating last line.

@guruan who has been a constant well of inspiration with her amazing art, her bright sense of humor and her sharing of theories of what's going to happen! You've made writing this story so much fun!

Author's note: Here we go guys, we've officially entered the final arc now. With only three chapters to go! I am so excited to share the remaining puzzle pieces with you all!

[artist-issues]

THE END of the Hunger Games is flawless.

The ending paragraph of "The Hunger Games" is so perfect. It so totally wraps up the whole point and takeaway of the books, and every character's journey, and nails it.

First off, the paragraph's context is about what you teach your children. Children, who are seen as the most precious treasure any person can handle in the book--treasures that can be turned into weapons and used against the treasurers. Children, who can bring down corrupt authority or keep it in place. So first off, a paragraph that addresses how important teaching children is is the best context for this perfect paragraph.

Second, Katniss is specifically teaching them what? "how I survive," which is her entire being. She makes every decision based on survival. She volunteers for Prim and doesn't kill Peeta in the first Games and chooses not to be with Gale and chooses to play her part against Snow all because she can't survive in a world where the alternative outcomes happen. Plus, survival is what other characters base their decisions on, too. 13 doesn't nuke the Capitol because it might ruin humanity's chances at survival. Hunger is the central plot device used to give Katniss all her skills, because without food, you don't what? Survive. Even "love" in these books is only another tool for survival; it makes suffering worthwhile, and purpose visible, and loss surmountable, and nightmares endurable, for every character. Finnick, Peeta, Katniss, Katniss' mother, even Buttercup the cat. The point of the book's lesson is "how to survive."

Third, the thing that could ruin love and pleasure's usefulness as a tool for survival is fear. But specific fear--"I'm afraid it could be taken away." It's fear that something you love, which makes survival worthwhile, could be taken away, and with it goes survival itself. The whole Hunger Games demonstrate that--"you rebelled against us? Then we're showing you that we can take away your children, the things that make survival worthwhile." And you know what? That's the dividing line between Katniss and Snow. Both Katniss and Coryo have survival as their ultimate goal, and have fear of the things they love being taken from them. For Katniss, it's the good opinion of the people of 12, it's her life with her sister and mom, it's the freedom from owing anyone anything, it's food and the ability to feed herself. For Coryo? It's his family name and reputation, his cousin and grandmother, his legacy, and his ability to never return to the cannibalism of the war. The fear of losing those things that they love is what could drive them to take no pleasure in them. To be afraid forever--and with fear comes the never-enough desire for control. To hang on to those things long after you've forgotten to take pleasure in them. Katniss almost does this with marrying Peeta or running from 12 or even becoming the Mockingjay. She's so afraid of losing what she loves that she jumps through hoops to control hanging onto them: does what Snow says, then does what Gale says, then does what Coin says. Plays a part in each of their games, to try and control the outcome. Coryo actually does do this, and for a while, has enough power to make that control almost universal. All because of fear of the things that he used to take pleasure in being taken from him.

Fourth, the alternative to focusing on the fear and the very-real danger of losing everything--is "focusing on every act of goodness I've seen someone do." This is just faith. Because it's true that the world of Panem (and the world in general) is full of people who are so afraid of losing control over what they love that they kill children and mutate nature to keep up the game, the illusion that they're in control. What you love could be taken from you. The world's full of that. But. The world also has unconditional love in it. People like Peeta, who saw that Katniss would kill him for her own survival in the first Hunger Games, but still chose to sacrifice for her anyway. People like Finnick, who loses everything including his mind, his body, and the things he loves most, but still gives Katniss the only rope he's got that's holding him together, just because he sees she needs it. Focus on that truth, instead of the simultaneous-truth that the it could all be taken away, and you'll have faith, not fear. You'll give up control and just enjoy what goodness you can. And when you do that, nobody can take it from you--not in spirit. Just like nobody could take Peeta's love for Katniss from him.

Finally, "it's like a game." To make a set of rules for yourself, a set of responses to the darkness of the world like making a list of things to focus on exclusively, is a game. It is a type of control--but it's just control of your own thoughts. Carefully using the game so that, in the arena of your brain, the love-shaped tribute is victor over the fear-shaped tribute. So that that battle stays in your head, instead of breaking out into a war that destroys what made your life worth surviving in the first place. Controlling what is your responsibility to control, instead of playing God and trying to control what's not yours. Drawing a line between what's good and what's bad, and staying firmly on one side of it without justification for crossing it.

That's why The Hunger Games is so good. Not because it has interesting dystopian settings, or because Gale and Peeta are hot and the romantic tension of the love triangle lets us self-insert ourselves. (Like other, worse YA fiction.)

No, The Hunger Games is so good because every part of it, from the characters to the setting to the symbolism to the names to the pacing to the development to the mood to the twists in the narrative, is used to uphold that main point. The main point that's so succinctly, cleanly, beautifully made in the last paragraph of the book.

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Hi I'm a big fan and I just wanted to let you know I love your yandere headcannons I like the way you write them, I hope you don't mind me requesting for yandere headcannons of koridai, courage and platonic!wind. If you accept I can't wait to see them. (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡. (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

Y’all Courage and Koridai simps are on crack. I’m here for it tho. Not doing wind in this part as i’m still planning where he’ll be

Yan!Chain headcannons

Tw: Yandarism and it’s accompanies, Courage and Koridai, I traumatised them, oops, child abuse, SH, baby trapping.

Courage

His version of the guide was different- far more than the rest. You were there. He saw your reflections in the mirrors and out of the corners of his eye, he heard whispers of your voice, you were there since as long as he could remember. He used to think you where an imaginary friend, as he didn’t have many actual friends. It made sense. But you never went away. No matter how much medications he took or lashes he’d taken, you were there.

It was when he learned of who he was and what purpose he held that he learned what you were. And it didn’t take him long to start going off the edge.

His very own guide- someone to hold and keep all to himself. Someone no one else could see. Someone no one could steal. Someone that would finally stay.

When he meets with the chain he’s still got that entitlement.

This reflects in his love languages. Physical touch and Quality time, being as close to you as often as possible. You were his reward, his support, his gift to be put through what he was put through. He deserves you.

He’ll hurt himself for your attention. Im talking full out stab wounds if that’s what it takes for you to kiss it better.

Fiercely loyal. Glares down anyone that flirts with him and would even flat out insult them when you were still just a spirit in his minds eye. Now you’re real however? He can and will compare people to you.

Has a hand on you at all times. He doesn’t care if he’s getting glared daggers, he’s throwing his arm around your waist and savouring the way you flush.

On that note, i’m sorry if you’re easily flustered. Like- truly. This man is a f l i r t. He’ll learn what makes you tick and abuse the living hell out of it. Even if it’s whispering the filthiest things into your ear, he’ll do it if it gets you blushing.

He’d kidnap you. 100 %. Married and with a kid by your side so you have to stay and so everyone knows you’re his. A wife on his arm and an heir to his title, even if they needed a little… assistance to realise that’s what they wanted.

Fav nicknames for you: Dear, Babe, Babes, Sugar, Honey, Loves, starlight

Koridai

It took him a while to realise you were his old guide, purely off of the fact he was so deep into believing he hallucinated you.

But prying him off of you when he comes to is what’s more difficult.

Again with physical touch, but he has a sweet spot for words of affirmation and gift giving. (you’re really racking up sugar daddies)

Golden retriever energy to the nines. Waiting at your hand and foot, back and call in case you might need him. You did so much for him, he might as well pay you back. He’ll cater to whatever you want of him. You want him to jump, he’ll ask how high. You want him to smile he’s beaming. You want jewellery, he’ll mine the gems himself. You want him to change his clothing, he’ll let you pick out a whole new wardrobe. You want a husband, he’ll hire the officiant. You want a man dead, all he needs is a name.

Two faced as Sky and Wars. Absolute sweetheart to your face, plays dumb to be unassuming, slips passed the squabbling of the chain and next thing they know he’s gone and you’re in his universe.

Another kidnapper.

Fun???

Either way you’re leaving with him or he’s leaving with you. He’d gotten himself so hurt while you left him unattended for 5 minutes to get water, and you expect him to live without you? After how he was forced to leave you behind? After he dug you a grave?

He can cry on command, and you’re none the wiser. You’d hold him as he sobbed and sniffled as the others watched. You’d defend him and his place, and off of the lies stories he told you, it’s a wonder you saw his emotions at all.

Nicknames: Whatever makes you the most embarrassed or flustered

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My You-niverse: Bud Cooper

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Bud Cooper x F!Reader, throughout the series: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

Warning: a bit of period typical sexism, reader is pregnant

Series Masterlist

When you kick the blankets off you, your eyes widento see your round belly. Oh shit. Oh fuck. You were pregnant.

Not Marc notices you just sitting there and came back to you with concern, "You okay? Is the baby okay?" He kneels down and gently presses a hand to your stomach, "You okay, princess? You giving mommy some trouble this morning?"

"We're having a girl?" you ask in disbelief.

Not Marc's brows furrow, "Yeah. We found out weeks ago, remember?" he reaches up and places the back of his hand to your forehead, "You're not feeling warm. Do you feel dizzy or anything?"

You shake your head, "No. No, it's-I had a weird dream. I suppose I'm just trying to make sure this isn't another one."

Your supposed husband shakes his head, "It's not, honey. I'm here," he cups your face, love in his eyes, "The baby and I are here. We're real."

You nod, "Yeah, yeah, okay."

He wasn't comforted by your answer so he stands with a grunt, "I'm calling out of work today."

"No, no, love, it's okay. I promise."

"I just want to make sure that nothing happens to you two, okay?"

Not Marc walks over to the phone on the nightstand and dials a number. He asks the phone operator to direct his call to his work, "Hey, Mike. It's Bud Cooper." Bud, so that was his name, "Yeah, the wife isn't feeling too well. I'm staying back just in case anything happens to her or the baby. Yeah...sounds like a plan. Alright. Bye."

He hangs the phone up and looks back at you, "Maybe we should get some food in ya and see if that helps?"

Bud helps you out of bed and guides you down the stairs to the kitchen. He has you sit at the table and looks around the kitchen, "Um...where can I find the pan?"

"Cabinet next to the stove," your answer surprises you. How you already have the knowledge and layout of the kitchen is new.

Bud chuckles to himself, "You know how useless I am in the kitchen. This is the women's domain," he opens the cabinet and grabs the pan. He sets it on the shelf and continues to ask you where everything is.

You eventually get up and grab everything for him, but then he has you sit back down, "Okay, I can cook all this myself. See, I'm not completely helpless."

You hum, not loving Bud's current views on women. Sure, this was the norm of this time period, but that didn't mean it didn't leave a bad taste in your mouth.

While Bud cooked, you decided to grab the newspaper out front, but not after promising him that you'd be careful. When you picked up the newspaper, the year stared back up to you 1955.

"Oh wow."

"Good morning, Y/N!" a woman from across the street waves at you as she kisses her husband on the cheek.

You wave back and proceed to walk back inside the home...your home. As you sit back down, Bud places a plate of breakfast and some juice in front of you. Everything is cooked just how you liked it.

He then sits across the table from you and grabs the newspaper you brought in. He places his glasses on and reads while shoveling eggs into his mouth.

Your stomach jolts and you gasp, making Bud immediately rushing to your side, "What is it? What's wrong?"

You smile up at him, "She kicked."

"She's becoming more active, huh?" he kneels down and presses a hand to his belly again, "Looks like you're up and awake, huh, princess?" she kicks again and Bud laughs, "Yeah, honey, this is your daddy."

He continues to talk to your little girl and you can't help but get emotional at the sight. You and Marc are married, yes, but you didn't talk about kids yet. You were content with or without them, but you weren't sure on Marc's views. Considering how he grew up, you're sure he'd be apprehensive.

If, no, when you get back to him, you'll probably have to discuss this with him. Because you can't help but imagining Marc in Bud's position right now. You see the love in his eyes and you just know that Marc, hell even Steven and Jake, would be good fathers.

"You okay care there, lovebug?"

You wipe your eyes, "Yeah, just really happy."

Bud smiles up at you, "I am too."

__________________________

Marc and Steven never thought that hopping through multiple universes was so exhausting. So far they'd been to three different universes. They had to make sure they were in disguise, not wanting to disrupt anything in each universe. But every version they've seen of you, made them miss you even more.

Doctor Strange, seeing the worry and hopelessness in their eyes comforted them, "We'll get her back. It just...takes time."

Steven, currently fronting, shook his head, "I know she'll be okay. She's strong. I just...if someone travels through so many universes, will it effect them in any way?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest."

___________________________

You've been in this universe for less than a day and you already dread leaving. You didn't think yourself of a motherly type, but every time you looked down at your belly or rubbed it, your heart felt so full.

Despite ensuring Bud that you're fine, your "husband" insisted you shouldn't be working on the nursery. So he rolled up his sleeves and worked on painting the room. A baby pink already adorned two walls. How cliche to make your baby girl's nursery fairytale themed. She was your princess after all.

While Bud works on the other two walls, you put up some pictures and artwork. You take a step back and observe your work. You find yourself smiling and rubbing your belly.

"Everything's turning out great, I'd say!" Bud exclaims, coming up next to you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

You nod and he kisses your head, "Why don't you start up lunch while I finish this up, hm?"

"Sounds good!" you peck his lips and waddle your way to the kitchen, when you enter the threshold, you're suddenly somewhere else.

"Fuck!" you whisper to yourself and you're suddenly tackled to the floor as a rain of bullets fire your way.

"I fucking told you to get down!"

"Marc?" you ask to your..husband?

"Pope! Let's go!" another man runs into the room, helping your husband's doppleganger to his feet and then you.

"More hostiles are headed this way. This mission is fucked."

'Pope' nodded and then turned to you, "Rosa, you good?"

You gulp and nodded, "Y-Yeah. I'm good." you looked down noticed the tactical gear you're donning. A knife strapped to your thigh and a gun to your other.

Who were you in this universe?

[laurelindebear]

Saturday nights have been D&D/TTRPG night for...a long long time now. But at the moment I'm not taking part, and it feels...weird, and sad. My group is still going, but about a month ago, before we went on our trip away, the session ended with something of a falling out and it brought to a head all the problems that have been building up for me for awhile. Rant and just...being sad below.

The group consists of 7-8 people: myself, my husband, his brother (and sometimes sister in law), and four of our friends. Husband and brother in law normally take turns DMing. They're both pretty good DMs, but we use a lot of homebrew and allow a lot of stuff that isn't in the rules, and power creep has become a real thing.

Main problem I have is that at this point, three of the (currently) seven people are actively harming the fun for me. One of the people is husband's oldest friend and they used to be closer but they don't have so much in common now. They have always been annoying (eg calling us on the phone every single day when we first got married, before always-online services). Despite having played TTRPGs for decades, they never remember what their spells or abilities do, whether we're playing, what time we start, etc. They and they alone have trouble with the dice room (somewhat conveniently - we swapped to using a room with dice rollers years ago in part because we simply didn't believe their actual rolls with physical dice (we're playing on voice, not in person) - they're also a habitual liar about pointless things like that. Maybe most annoying is that they are always playing another game at the same time (usually World of Warcraft), and not something that's easy to tab out of, or which only uses half your brain. I level fishing etc while playing a lot, because it's so boring otherwise, but it doesn't take my attention. But because of this, they are only ever half-aware of what's going on, at best. They get bored of their characters before the end of every campaign, without fail, and often have them get killed off/reroll in stupid ways because they think its funny.

Person two is a friend who is just kind of obsessed with finding ways to 'break' and game the system to make their character overpowered. At the end of a previous campaign they decided they were going to one-shot kill the ultimate big bad by summoning a herd of...oxen or something way above the guy's head and dropping them on him for massive damage, because it was funny. It only half-worked, partly because the DM wasn't keen on having the final battle go that way, I think, but you get the idea. This time they're trying a multiclass build specifically to do ludicrous amounts of damage every fight, which works because of the way we handle short and long rests and healing. Then there's the fact that all their characters are super greedy and have to loot everything, even when it's detrimental to the party; and that their go-to special thing to do to anyone they don't like or anyone we need to question is to shove stuff up the person's butthole. (They also enjoy being very cold and evilish and acting without consulting the group.)

Person three is my BIL who I've talked about before. Sometimes we get on ok. But we have very different values and we can clash a lot. He's borderline obsessed with the military and military loyalty, and he's actively proud and defensive of British colonialism. (!!!!) He also is very precious about male gaze, and criticism thereof, to the point of acting very personally offended and harmed by how 'women on television/ in films/ in games can't have big boobs now.' In this campaign he's been very metagamey, where no matter what we encounter (we're jumping between universes) he knows exactly who and what everything is and doesn't hesitate to explain it all to us. He may have encyclopedic knowledge of all TTRPG systems and critters, but his character absolutely wouldn't. He's also very bossy; he gets cross if he feels he's the only one putting forward plans and strategy, but as often as not when anyone does suggest a plan, he immediately jumps in to say how terrible it is and why it won't work - even if it will. He's loud and can be aggressive and I'm pretty shit at assertiveness, although sometimes if my husband is DMing he'll actually tell me, off mic, that my plan/idea is a good one and to keep going with it regardless of BIL's dismissals. In this last campaign especially, he's been obsessive about sex and boobs and everyone in the party getting laid every adventure, when that's really not what most of us are about.

Anyway, the last game I played turned into a mess because we got transported to your typical 'warworld coliseum battle royale' type world run by a super powerful wizard or lich or something. We were fighting some of the guy's minions and doing ok, but Powergamer decided it was too dangerous and taking too long so he tried to attack the big boss, despite hints from the DM (husband) that it wasn't a great plan. As a result we all got Meteor Swarm-ed and Doesn't Pay Attention died (again).

As we were in the process of escaping, I had a wild thought to try to pickpocket the boss, or maybe sneak something from his balcony while he wasn't there - I was playing a rogue and my stealth and sleight of hand were very good. I mention this in just a thinking out loud way, and get screamed at by BIL because 'THIS IS A LEVEL 36 MAGE CASTING LEVEL 18 FIREBALLS, OF COURSE HE'LL BE ABLE TO SEE INVISIBLE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING' etc etc. Somehow when other players do something bonkers and risky - say, diving off a zeppelin into a tower window, telefragging a castle, or using a weird demonic artifact to bring a Mecha Joan of Arc back to life, whose programming is essentially to destroy all humanoid life - it's more likely to be taken as funny, or 'haha it's your funeral but do whatever', but for me, no, I'm an idiot and how dare I even think about doing that random thing? Nevermind that neither his character nor anyone else would know what 'level' the bad guy was because that's not how RP works, characters don't have stat books on them! I lost my temper and just said something like 'ok well I try and I'm dead then, forget it', and left the channel, and I haven't been back.

So now I'm without a group, and...it sucks. My husband is sad, and I'm sad. But I don't want my RP games to be all powergaming and sexual assault and celebrations of colonialism and getting shouted at. It's not fun. And it just wasn't fun...but I wish it were. It so often has been. Maybe it will be again. But right now I feel lost and a little bit alone and it's coming at really the worst possible time, with autumn being a historically very shitty time for me and this year with my stress about politics making me both physically and mentally unwell on the daily.

[dapper-shipping-forever]

The impatient proposal

1998 T.rigun Vash. T.rigun S.tampede Vash posted here x

The proposal simultaneous to the first. 1998 Vash does it slightly different, but with no less love to it. Gill is forever part of him.

The other proposal ! Reblogs always appreciated !

💜💜💜

Just on the outside of town the cliff hung above it, and the hike to the top of the cliff was actually pretty easy. Vash wouldn't have picked a more exhausting spot for this. He wouldn't be a gentleman if he tired her out like that.

Rocks crunch under their feet as they travel. After all, it wouldn't be romantic if Vash asked Gill to marry him while he's panting for a breath. Right, the box in his pocket is the real reminder that he is leading his girlfriend to the top of this mini mountain for a specific reason. 

The anxiety roiling in him has been there all day. Scratch that, all week. Double scratch, months. There's a lot of things to dissuade him. He's the humanoid typhoon, naming one reason. Every time she's with him could hurt her, naming another. He has gotten her hurt numerous times, naming yet another. She should say no, truthfully, he thinks. He wouldn't blame her if she decided to get away finally, stop chasing his storm and find someone, hm no he can't finish that thought; the pain of envisioning her with someone else hurts way more. But would it be what's right? 

His hand is squeezed by Gill's, clasped the entire hike. "Vash, my dear." She interrupts his thoughts. "What's got you distracted recently?" 

He jumps. "What? Me? Distracted? I've got the sharpest focus of anyone !" He laughs but it stops at her flat look; he sees the worry behind her eyes, knowing she sees he feels the need to wear a mask for her and that she dislikes that, and he feels bad. He drops the act, looking away with a sad look to him. "I'm just, I've never quite seen myself as deserving of, well, you, yknow." He says, afraid to meet her eyes.

"Awe, baby. That's what it's about?" She asks.

"Uh, sorta." He scratches his hair. Not completely, but mostly.

She stops walking, forcing him to stop abruptly as she swishes in front of him. She cups his face in her hand, brows upturned in concern. "What's brought this on?"

Hrs shrugs. "It's just a thought." He brings his hand to her's, holding it tenderly on his cheek. "I mean, fuck am I glad to be with you, trust me there's not a second where I'm not thinking about how much I love you. It's just, is this selfish? How much I love you? I know the trouble following me, but all I want is to keep you close by. Sometimes I worry I'm just sweeping you into my typhoon."

She dips her head, his face is directed at her but his eyes keep themselves planted to the floor and she gets her face in view. Shes gently smiling. "Have I at any point made some indication I'm not with you by my own choice?"

"Um, no." He says, eyes now unable to look away now that he caught her look.

"That's right, because I'm with you because I choose to be." She continues.

He steps forward, desperation in his eyes as he searches her's. "And if you could go back and decide not to love me?"

"Not an option. There ain't any universe where you're not my love." She answers without any hesitation there.

Vash trembles. "I've caused awful, terrible, horrible things."

"They weren't your fault." She is certain.

"I've gotten lots of people harmed." He says.

"You've saved many many more." She says.

"I'm selfish." He reasons.

"You're allowed to be." She reassures Vash.

"You think?" He breathes.

"I know." She affirms.

Vash breathes deeply, squeezing his eyes shut for a bit before looking back into her face. "Would you let me be selfish with you, more than I have been?"

She laughs a bit, not at him, of course. "Darling, I would frankly prefer it if you were." 

He takes her face, dwarfed in his large, rough hands. He pulls her forward and she openly follows as he drags her into a deep kiss. She keeps her hand on his cheek and the other finds his hip. He searches her eyes after it. "Say you want this; please say that you want forever too." 

She meets his depthless eyes without a hint of uncertainty. "We are forever."

Slowly, genuinely, he smiles again. "Thank you, Gillian." Vash means it.

She hums. "There's more." Not a question.

"Yeah, there is." He chews his cheek, but there's something impatient to him now, mixing with his many other feelings right now. His eyes flick behind her. This whole conversation has been right before the peak of this mountain. "Come with me." He grabs her hand and leads her quickly to the flat surface of the cliff top. 

He spins, now taking both of her hands while he walks backwards to guide her more while she laughs. "What's this?" She asks him.

He glances around, silently assessing this spot. But now he thinks maybe anywhere is the right spot. He just needs her there and it's good. "I have something to ask you." He meets her gaze.

"Then ask, love." She urges him.

He breathes in, breathes out. Maybe he is dangerous, maybe he has done wrong, and maybe he can't be forgiven, but she believes in him. That's what's important. She loves him. He loves her. They have love. Loving her is the only choice he wants to have. Being with her is his forever. "You are more precious to me than I can possibly say. Baby, you have been there for me in more ways than I can count, and probably more than I'm fully aware of. You're my biggest cheerleader, the person who's taught me to accept myself. I'm never going to thank you enough for that. My biggest goal now is to spend forever making you the happiest person anywhere." He gets to his knee, taking the box in his pocket out to present her with the ring he designed for nobody but her. "I'm yours, my soul belongs to you. And, I want to be official with this. I want you to be mine, tied to me forever." He wets his lip, looking into her wide, stunned eyes above him. "You're more than my partner, you're my soulmate who I'd seek out in every dimension. I love you. Gillian, would you please marry me?" He asks her.

She smiles, eyes wet with tears. She wordlessly leans closer, bending to settle her forehead on his, and he feels tears slip onto his face. "Yes, Vash, yes." She breathes. "I love you. I would love nothing more right now than to marry you."

He grins, wide and full of joy. He nuzzles her forehead. "You're," He stutters. "You're going to be my wife now."

She laughs, thick with her tears. "Yes, my husband."

He laughs too. "Well we gotta actually get married before that's my title."

She whines, pouting. "But I want to call you my husband right now."

He shakes his head. "Then I promise not to make you wait a lot longer than I already have for this. Can fiancé satisfy you just for a bit?" 

She grins. "Yeah, that sounds good too." She kisses him, and he eagerly reciprocates the gesture.

As they pull back to take a breath, he takes her hand in his and slips the ring onto her finger. It looks beautiful on her, just as he'd wanted. He kisses her hand, the ring pressing into his chapped lips. Hand held to his mouth, he starts laughing having no other outlet for the intense happiness filling him completely. He stands in a quick movement, scooping her into his arms and dangling her above the rocks as he spins around. "We're engaged !" He shouts, laughing.

She giggles, hugging him close. "We are !"

"You're my fiancé ! I'm your fiance !" He continues, just saying it increasing his euphoria.

"All extremely true." Gill's legs just kinda swish around as he wildly moves them around the cliff top. She gets it, a similar rush of joy is taking residence within her and she relishes in being in his grasp.

After a few minutes, he sets her back on her feet, steadying her. He hasn't stopped his laughter, and Gill's confused as her fiancé runs around her to the cliff's edge. Though she understands what he's doing as he cups his mouth and shouts to the small town below. "She said yes !"

She squeals. "Vash ! Too much !" She blushes, running forward and hugging his waist to drag him back. Distantly a single whoop is heard from someone in town. 

Vash just keeps laughing, spinning in her hold to hug her. "We gotta, we gotta tell the others now." He is riding a high that has no end. He can't wait to share this with their friends. For real, he can't. Scooping her into his grasp again, he slings her onto his shoulder and holds her there as he takes off into a sprint back away from the cliff and to town.

"Vash ! Hey, it's not that much of a hurry !" She yelps, yelling to him across her shoulder. But she is grinning too, chuckling at his unbridled enthusiasm to tell everyone that they're engaged now.

He just squeezes her hip, focused on keeping her steady while he makes use of his long strides and high stamina. "Trust me, I've got too much energy for walking !" He calls back.

Running in the town, speeding by the buildings and surprised residents gets them quickly to their hotel. Bursting in the door, Milly, Meryl, and Wolfwood are all surprised where they sit around a table chatting there.

"What the?" Meryl exclaims.

"Gill said yes !" Vash yells the second he's skidded to a stop inside the lobby.

Milly claps her hands together. "That's amazing !"

Wolfwood laughs. "Finally actually did it, eh?"

Gill tries to glance around to their team. "Yall knew?" 

Meryl scoffs, but her smile for her friends is wide. "Of course; he's been begging us for advice for months by now."

"Months? You've been trying to ask that long?" Gill asks Vash.

Vash blushes to the sky. "I might have taken a while to get it right. Plus getting the ring took a while too. I had to do this correctly, you know, baby." 

Gill chuckles, smiling to herself. "Silly boy." She lifts her hand with the ring to look at it.

"Was it just like you'd imagined?" Milly eagerly asked, leaning forward in her seat, eyes almost sparkling.

"It was better." Vash said dreamily. 

“What’d the blushing bride think, though?” Wolfwood chimes in. 

“It was amazing.” Gill says, almost to softly to be heard. “Um, Vash, my love, can you set me on the floor again to have this conversation?” She kicks her legs to emphasize that she currently can’t actually see any of them.

“Right ! Sorry, sorry.” he plops her on the ground, but right away just hugs her again with his arms wrapped around her torso, her back pressed securely along his chest as he grins with a bright smile.

She leans into this embrace gladly, continuing her thought. “I’ve thought about getting engaged to Vash since before we became a couple and about marrying him. But the actual engagement was more beautiful than I could’ve imagined; and I’m sure the wedding is going to be better as well.” She lovingly squeezes his forearm, Vash blushing hot on top of his happy expression.

Milly looks overjoyed. “Show us the ring ! Vash already let us see but I want to see it on your finger !”

Meryl sits forward, just as excited. “Yeah ! Let us see.”

Gill lifts her hand, and the girls squeal. They both lean forward to get a better look.

“It’s gorgeous !” Milly exclaims. 

“I’d say it definitely is.” Gill glances at it. 

The girls get out of their seats and Vash, semi pouting, releases her to let her girl friends swarm her in their hugs. 

“I’m happy for you ! You two are wonderful together.” Milly says, having both shorter women wrapped in her large arms.

“Thank you, milly.” Gill chuckles, squeezed.

When the hug loosens somewhat, the girls stand close. Meryl meets Gill’s eyes, expression softening. “I’m happy for you too. In all the time we’ve traveled together, I’ve never seen you brighter than when you’re together. Congratulations.”

Gill’s expression becomes gentle, thoughtful. Hearing Meryl happy for her means a lot; the girls have all been close for a long time. “Meryl, thank you.

Wolfwood slides to stand by Vash while the girls chatter. “You did good, needle noggin.” he side eyes him with a genuine smile.

Vash looks at him. “Thanks, Wolfwood. Now I just have to keep my vow.” To make her happy and protect her.

“You’re gonna.” He holds out a fist, and Vash touches it with his own. “Never doubted that.” The two men share a look.

Yeah, Vash is sure of it. With every thing he is, that vow is being kept. “I know.”

After a couple seconds, Wolfwood grins wider and surprises Vash by slinging his arm around his shoulder. “Alright, then, everybody !” He yells to the team. “We gotta celebrate ! Let’s hit the bars !”

“Gill never drinks.” Meryl points out.

“Eh, I think it’s alright. Let’s do it.” Gill says, shrugging. She can enjoy the celebration without booze too.

Wolfwood and Milly whoop, and Meryl shakes her head and sighs but follows them as they leave, Vash and Gill lingering in the lobby. Their eyes connect, and they smile for each other. Hands joining, they walk out into a loving forever, always close together.

[trenchcoat-of-hats]

we did this based on our own system, and it's purely self-indulgent, but we're sharing it with the world anyway!

TW for lots of mentions of non-specific drugs

Klaus could hear voices in his head. He was used to hearing voices around him all the time, but this was different. Vaguely familiar, but he didn't remember anything like this.

He expected he'd one day lose it, but not so soon. Although it also didn't feel like he was hallucinating voices either; he knew what that felt like because of certain drugs doing it to him.

They were all talking to each other, they seemed confused. As weird as it felt, Klaus couldn't help listening into their conversation.

"I'm pretty sure we're dreaming."

"Definitely not. What did you guys expect when we jumped through that portal in headspace?"

"Not to end up back here. What year is it anyway?"

"We're an adult, so that's neat."

"Not neat. The body feels like shit."

"Well I, for one, am happy. We can actually get high now!"

"Omg, true!"

"Seriously?"

All different voices, but they all sounded like Klaus, apart from one sounding younger, but other than that he just somehow knew they were all separate voices. It was like he could feel other people residing in his mind. But that was ridiculous.

"It's not ridiculous, it's not even as rare as people think."

Oh great, now they were talking to him.

"Look, why don't you just relax, sit back, and let mummy take the wheel?"

"What?" Klaus replied out loud.

"We just want to front properly, like take control of the body."

"Yeah. We wanna. Wanna get high."

"Yeah. What do you have?"

"I'm not just gonna let you take control of my body?? What even are you?" Klaus said, blinking as if it would make the voices go away.

"I'm Klaus."

"They said 'what', not 'who'."

"Sorry, but we are you. Kind of? What are we, guys?"

"We're… copies of you, based on what we saw of the show you're from."

"And fanfiction!"

"Yeah. Lots of fanfiction too." Klaus could feel that voice side-eye another of the voices.

"Since when was I in a show?" Klaus asked, whilst ignoring the part of him that was happy people wrote fanfiction about him.

"Multiverse."

"The show's called 'Multiverse'?" Klaus asked.

"No, dumbass, because of the multiverse, there's a show about you in another universe, and that's where we come from."

"And now you're here to invade my brain. Fun," he said bitterly. Because the universe had decided he needed yet another part of his body taken without his consent.

"No- That's not- We're not here to take your brain. We don't even know how we got here. But now that we're here, we just wanna hang out. Right, guys? And trust me, hanging out while you're in the one body will get more natural with time."

"And might I add that it's way better sharing a body with people than having to be alone all the time?"

"I beg to differ."

"You shut up."

"Sorry."

Klaus sucked in a breath. "Fine. I'll give you trippy fever dream demons a chance. What are your names?"

"Klaus."

"Klaus."

"Klaus."

"Klaus."

"Klaus."

"...How am I meant to distinguish you…?"

"I'm Bagel."

"And I'm Keres, and that's Kassian."

"Hi," Kassian said.

"We kinda just distinguish the others by what season they're from, and there's teen Klaus, that one Klaus from a murder mystery AU, and the Klaus who's married to Dave… So he gets a different last name," Keres explained.

"Oh shit," said the Klaus who was married to this 'Dave' person, because Klaus just somehow knew who was speaking. "I have to get back to my son."

"He'll be fine, he's got Dave," said one of the others named Klaus.

"I know, but I can't just be away forever."

"How about we figure this out after we get high?" Keres suggested a little impatiently.

"Fine, do that, but I'm going into the innerworld if I can find it."

Within moments, Klaus felt three of the voices just disappear.

"So you don't know who Dave is?" Keres asked Klaus.

"Nope."

"Don't worry, I don't either," said the 'murder mystery AU' Klaus.

"Same," said the teenage Klaus. "I mean we all know of him because we've excessively–and I mean excessively–watched our source. But I never met him in my source."

"Well anyway, that's interesting," said Keres. "How old are you?"

"I'm-" Klaus began, but before he could finish, his girlfriend opened the door.

"Hey, babe," she said, and then frowned at him, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just had a bad dream."

"Alright. I'm heading to work. Don't steal any of my shit."

"I thought you trusted me."

"Not when you look that shaken. See you later."

And with that, Klaus was left alone with the voices again.

"Anyone remember her?" asked Kassian.

"'Course not," said Bagel.

"Back to business, I don't actually care how old you are, what drugs do you have?" Keres asked.

"Jesus, you guys are needy. I'm already high, hence the lack of ghosts."

"Oh yeah. We spent so long without them we forgot they're a thing."

"Didn't you just write a fanfiction about yourself and ghosts?" accused the murder mystery Klaus.

"No, that was Klaus."

"Am I the only one concerned about the fact none of us noticed this body is high?" teen Klaus asked.

"I'm not on something very strong," Klaus shrugged. "And can we not call me 'this body'?"

"I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about your body. Our body."

"Fun…"

Klaus felt another of the Klauses appear again. He now knew, somehow, that it was apparently Klaus from 'season two'. "Guys… I have bad news. I have a feeling we're not from another universe. I think this brain made us."

"That can't be true, we remember everything. We even remember our life before we existed in the system. It had to have been real," Keres said.

"We remembered our source life and that wasn't real."

"But we didn't remember it in that much detail."

"How much detail do you remember our 'real' life in?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"You know what I found in that innerworld? The fucking afterlife. You know the one. There was the little girl on the bike, and other people who I'm assuming are other headmates."

"Oh shit…"

"So this guy's brain made its own version of a place they've been to a million times in their life. What difference does that make?" Bagel asked.

"The difference is I don't think we've really died before. l think we've always been a system, the afterlife is our headspace, and we're new headmates."

"What about season 3?" teen Klaus asked. "Those were some pretty solid deaths."

"Please, season 3 was shit, let's not count that as canon. Besides, if this is real life, none of what happened in the show has happened, and it might never. So Dave…"

"...Might not have been real," Keres finished for him.

"That's bullshit," Kassian snapped. "Like I said, we're probably dreaming."

Bagel counted the body's fingers, then pushed on the wall. "Nope."

"Hey, where'd the Klaus who 'owns' this body go?" asked murder mystery Klaus.

"Probably stress switched out," said season 2 Klaus. "Because this is a system that's been functioning for a long time."

"So my boyfriend's not real either?" Keres asked bitterly.

"I guess not. Sorry."

The Klauses were silent for a minute.

Dave's husband hopped back into front.

"Ah. I guess we've all figured it out now," he said.

"Hey, it's not that bad," season 3 Klaus had followed after him. "Might as well make the most of it."

"The most of what? I fucking hated this life," Keres spat, getting murmurs of agreement.

"At least we've got a cock now," teen Klaus grinned.

"Oh, great. Now I can get double dysphoria when I front…" Keres muttered.

"It's going to be okay, guys," Dave's husband said. "We'll find a way to get back to our life, get back to our system. In the meantime… We could try to find a way to make our life here less shit?"

"I wanna see our siblings," S2 said. "We can make amends with them."

"Okay, perfect."

"Can we break up with our girlfriend?" murder mystery asked.

"She's not ours to break up with."

"Klaus won't mind," Bagel said.

"Except we won't have anywhere to live if we break up with her," Keres said.

The Klauses were brought into silence again, realising what all this means.

"...I'm sure it'll be fine!" said S3 over-enthusiastically.

Having no other choice, the Klauses settled into this new system. They tried their best to get everyone to cooperate with each other and live a better life than they had in their exomemories. Somehow, it worked out for the most part. Except they had no idea how to get back to their own system…

Prompt #568

Several introjects of the same being somehow find themselves inside their source self's mind. Now they must adjust them to a new life as a system while adjusting themselves to their new – old? – life as their source.

Bonus: at least one of them is questioning in the background if they still count as introjects if they're back in their original body now.

[theomnicode]

Saitama and Genos are just hopelessly baffling to me

As someone who has had a Significant other for 12+ years going or longer now, it is absolutely baffling to me how Saitama and Genos are somehow MORE involved than WE ARE in this intimate way that they're always joined at the hip, yet not physically or romantically involved somehow. And just as domestic and domestically intimate as actually involved, married couples.

Genos literally fetches Saitama's heart underwear boxers and puts them outside the bathroom so he can dress up after a bath. Genos would probably jump into the bath if it had room in it. Genos legit stared at Saitama wearing a tiny towel getting a massage from massage chair.

Genos has expressed in meta that he 100% thinks Saitama's consciousness and his body are beautiful, ergo he's about as attracted as cyborg who thinks his sensei is not interested and who's still figuring out his own emotions can be.

The only problem seems to be that Saitama and his emotions need a light switch put into ON position.

I can also count like minimum 4 dick jokes made about Saitama eating phallus shaped food objects and awakening libido joke in which Genos gut headbutts to boot, from the top of my head. Fucking bananas and popsicles man, one being anime-only addition. I can't believe it took me this long. Screw Metal bat making dick jokes, Saitama eating them is where it's at.

And the longest fry too. Saitama, not inside a family restaurant damnit!

Oh wait, Genos stole the fry, I guess he's the inside joke. The latex glove examination on the fry does not escape me either. Nor does the OVA episode theme.

And how come Saitama is comfortable lounging around in pyjama bottoms 5 days after Genos moved in when Genos is obviously drawing him reading manga? He's self-conscious about his bald head and self-image otherwise but not this?

Something shifted though, because Saitama actually held Genos physically close for the majority of 169.

Progress!

ONE is writing the slowest of slow burns in all of fiction. Within the time duration of mere 6 months in universe. It's gonna take another 7 years isn't it?

Come on man.

I can't make this shit up even if I tried.

How obvious can a parallel get?

Like how the other brown bear protects the smaller, white coloured and more vulnerable bear from the rain. Like how Genos rushed to Saitama's aid and protects his vulnerable emotions, his love for other beings (like his love for pets) from melancholy.

To his beloved's aid.

And he will find him before the stars do. Stars is the universe, ergo it's OPM God, who is also trying to prey on his emotional vulnerabilities. Long as Saitama only shows his emotional weakness to him and comes back home to him, his safe haven, he'll be fine.

It's not a coincidence that in the OVA, Bang had been thinking about 200 different ways how to take down Saitama when his guard was down. When Bang is one of the identities God has assumed to lure in emotionally vulnerable Garou.

Even without a map to the place where I'll return The heat of your heartbeat is guiding me The arrow of that thought is flying straight ahead Even if it's far away.. When we reach our hands out, the bond teaches us that kindness is strength That is what's important to have for living That's why I'll be back I'll be back to right here

Saitama: That’s not the point... I have the feeling that things like a heart to heart interaction, sharing an umbrella, warmth, are all things broken away in my life. Other people can have things like big events and circumstances happening, romances and such bringing happiness in their daily lives. I have the feeling something broke and that sweet-like fluffy, nice stuff just fell right off from me. That's what I meant.

Saitama: Genos, look, have you ever seen a hero anime without a love interest in it? Genos: I don't remember watching a lot of anime in the past.. Why do you ask? Saitama: Well, we're heroes, right? We're working and living as such. And yet, why are we indifferent towards things like love interests or girlfriends? In some way it seems obvious and logical, but is it really ok? Are you ok with reality being so much harder than fiction?

I can't make this shit up man.

I will be forever malding if ONE is writing some kind of unrequited love scenario. That would just be cruel. I just want them to be wholesome together like fate intended. ;_;

(Genos gets so jealous on the cd drama lmao)

(awakening libido is from rush of hormones and neurotransmitters like dopamine and his instinctive drives and desires jumpstarting on his younger body when his future self regained homestasis and connected the psyche)

[sca-rian]

my scarian "cinderella-but-with-a-weird-twist" au (long post ahead!)

first chapter is out <3

consider: grian is a thief, with the whole "being a thief in a fantasy world" clichés and shenanigans. and he is a good one, mind you. hes a member of a well-known thief guild and was partly responsible for some large scale robberies

grian is about to jump into his most ambitious robbery to date: he plans on stealing something directly from the castle, because fuck the monarchy and everything. of course, he knows he could easily get caught, but that doesnt stop him once he thinks about how much money he could make and how much respect he would receive from his peers

that being said, it will still take a lot of planning, though. first stage? infiltrating the castle and analyzing what exactly hes working with. luckily, a ball is taking place in a couple of days, and that sounds like a perfect opportunity for sneaking in without attracting much attention [first plot hole from the wip: how he gets into the ball? guess we will find out!]

grian gets pearl, his friend and also involved in the thief guild, to help him with disguising himself. the final result (any ariana griande fans around?) looks pretty convincing, and hes mostly confident he can make the plan work out for him

and, well, maybe it would have worked, if it wasnt for a stupid prince and his stupid goal to find a wife

you see, scar is not that interested in getting married. sure, as a prince, he knows he will need to get around to it eventually, but the pressure to do it right now? he just can't think of anyone who could be a good fit, someone he loves, or at least likes enough to spend a life and build a family together

until the kingdom organizes a ball, and scar meets the most fascinating woman he has ever seen in his life. while she looks beautiful in her red dress and long blonde hair, what truly gets him are her fierce eyes and the way she, when he supposedly isnt noticing, looks at him like she could kill him at any giving moment

scar immediately realizes shes not there for the reasons she says she is, and that makes him even more interested to know more about her

meanwhile, grian, under the dress, make-up and wig, could not be more annoyed at the prince for trying to talk or charm him in any way. sure, that could be a good opportunity for advancing with his plan, but it would be much easier if scar didnt act like the enchanted fairy tale prince he is

after that, time seems to fly, and, at the same time, it doesn't. grian finds himself stuck with scar for way longer than planned, and, as midnight approaches, he realizes he wont be able to get any more work done, besides the few locations and guard positions he could memorize from walking around with scar

as scar rambles about yet another little occupation from his privileged life, grian realizes he can't do that anymore. his feet hurt from wearing shoes definitely not made for him, and he can only think about his warm bed back home

getting rid of scar wouldn't be easy, though, so he made it the most impolite and unexplainable way he could think of: grian just. ran away. and left scar very confused, but somehow even more certain he had met someone he actually liked

jumping to a few days ahead, grian is feeling miserable. although he could draw from memory what seemed to be a decently accurate map of the area he saw on the castle, it wasn't enough. and now he couldn't think of a way to get back there

as the universe seems to hate (or maybe love) him for some reason, he hears knocking on the door

grian doenst mind getting out of his small messy office, as he knew pearl would be able to answer the door at such a time. still, curiosity got the best of him, and he decides to stay listening to see who in their right mind would be knocking at doors on a residential area with such a bad reputation

turns out its one of the princes servants, and grian immediately gets the feeling something is terrible, terrible wrong

(you won't possibly guess what happens next. god, why is this post so long)

as it turns out, the prince met a mysterious lady at the ball and is desperately looking for her around the kingdom, as the only thing she left behind when suddenly leaving the castle was one of her shoes. therefore, the castle is having all suiting ladies try on the shoe to see if it matches

grian locks the door to his office in desperation, while pearl reluctantly agrees to trying on the shoe. although the shoe doesn't fit her, she says there's someone else in the house who could try on it

grian firmly says he won't do it, but pearl tells him it could be a good opportunity to proceed with the plan, so he agrees

for the shock of the servant, the shoe fits perfectly

(scar, when informed, is very amused about the unexpected turn of events, and in no way minds his dream lady actually being a man. grian couldn't be more miserable)

[justplainwhump]

Playground

For @whumpawoman Angstpril; prompts are Whumper-Run-In, Panic Attack, and maybe even Revenge.

This arc is a collaboration with @for-the-love-of-nsfwhump​ , Damiel is hers and in this universe, they’re married to Ira. Also - this is a piece of writing I’m very proud of, and I hope that you like it.

Content: whump aftermath, trauma, panic attack, referenced captivity, referenced lady whump, referenced death/murder of a loved one.

Emma is pulling at Isaac's hand, and he almost has to jog to keep up with her short legs. "Your uncle is an old man, Emmy," he says, half joking. He's not old, but he can't walk fast. Not since he's had a bullet lodged in his hip, in the night that cost him everything. 

"But I can see the playground already! Can I go? Please?" 

He can see it, too. A big wooden pirate ship, some swings, a handful of other adults and kids wrapped into warm clothes on this sunny day in late fall. It's just some meters, he tells himself. It's safe. Still, it takes him some seconds to force his fingers to open and let his niece's gloved hand slip out of his, as she races off. There's something to the way she runs. Despite the childish joy to her movements, the somewhat clumsy way she sets her feet, he still thinks of Sophie. Sophie, who can't be here, who has never met her niece, and whose laugh he misses every single day. The last thing he's seen her do was run. Run by his side, to safety, to freedom. It had been so close. They could've been together. They should be.

They aren't. He's alone.

On the playground, Emma has reached the pirate ship and is already climbing up, gloves dropped on the ground, hands and booted feet steady on the small climbing grips. Sophie and him have always wanted kids. They'd talked about it often enough, before they went to bed. Two, at least, one boy and one girl, maybe. He wonders, if they'd ended up with the light brown curls Emma shares with him, or maybe more of the straight black hair from Sophie's side. 

He'll never know.

There's another kid going up the wooden wall next to Emma now, a black girl her age with a cloud of curls around her and purple earmuffs. He's still out of earshot, but he sees them talking, racing each other to the captain's stand on top. The other girl's parent is standing close, arms folded, attentive. They're tall, at least six feet, lean and muscular, and something about them makes Isaac's stomach clench. They look like them. Like the figure from his nightmares, the one he sees in every crowd, the reason why he can't ride the subway or go to crowded pubs, or do anything outside. Like the tall, lean monster, the one who took Sophie away from him, when he'd ran away with her, when she'd finally seen him, and believed him, and she'd looked at him and told him she loved him. The monster has hunted them down without remorse, they've grabbed her and hurt her and dragged her away. Isaac still remembers her screams, her panic, her fear, and the cold, brutal efficiency of the hunter.

His steps have slowed involuntarily. Usually, he'd just turn around and leave. The park is big, he can go somewhere else, somewhere he doesn't have to be around his memories, but his with Emmy, and the tall figure is right next to her. 

It's not them, he thinks. It's not them, they are far away, they are somewhere in the woods hunting their next victim, they aren't the folk to hang around on playgrounds, they wouldn't care about Emma. 

His shirt is soaked with cold sweat, as he forces himself to step closer. "Emmy," he calls. His voice is trembling, broken almost. "Emmy, baby, come here, we're leaving."

She doesn't hear him, or pretends not to, as she jumps onto the slide down.

The tall one has heard him, though, head snapped back, taking in the whole situation, the playground, the other parents, and Isaac, frozen in place. Long braids are falling from underneath their woolen hat, eyes narrowed, lips pressed together into a thin line. 

It's them. It's not their shadow, not a memory from the past, it's them, the hunter, it's the one who shattered everything Isaac had ever dreamt of to pieces in a single night.

"No," Isaac whispers tonelessly. "No, no, no." He wants to step back, but his legs are rubber, there's the edge of the sandbox behind him, and he falls, to his knees, shivering, panting. His hands claw into the sand, like they did into the forest ground six years ago, but he can't feel, there's nothing, only emptiness. 

"Sir," they call, and he thinks he remembers their voice. They've called someone else Sir that night, too, in a voice rougher than today, but he recognizes it anyway. "Are you okay?"

He's not. He's not, he will never be, he can't ever be okay, and it's because of them, and they don't even seem to know. He stares at them blankly from where he's kneeling on the ground, at them and the white-haired young woman suddenly by their side. He wants to warn her, to warn Emmy, anyone, but his voice has left him, and he's helpless to watch. The woman is holding a toddler, and she hands him off, to them, and Isaac's vision narrows, gets black around the edges. He can't breathe. He hears them talk, French, he thinks, and that it's odd that he can still find a coherent thought, and then a soft hand is laying on his arm and the woman is talking to him. "Breathe, Sir, breathe with me, alright?" Her voice is quiet and smooth, and he wonders if he's actually breathing, maybe he's not, maybe he's just dying, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. 

"In through the nose," the woman says, and he feels her hand gently pressing his to give him a rhythm. "Out through the mouth."

Shakily, he nods, follows her lead. He doesn't look up, just stares at their hands, hers over his, in the dirty sand of the sandbox. In through the nose. Her hand is small, a little red because of the cold, and there are some scars, crisscrossing lines in her tan skin. Out through the mouth. Her nails are clipped short, a little dirt underneath them, and her fingers are calloused, as if she works a lot with her hands. In through the nose. There's a broad black band tattooed around her wrist, and he sees some colorful patterns emerge over it, vanishing under her sleeve. Out through-

"Cherie," the hunter says.

His breath hitches. His eyes are glued to the wedding band. 

"Pas maintenant," she mumbles. 

Isaac sees their feet show up in his vision, clad in bright yellow winter boots. They were wearing boots back then, too, but those were black. Do they know who he is? Do they know, what they did to him? He doesn't dare looking up.

"Tu lui fais peur," she says. "J'arrive. Cinq minutes, Dami?"

Dami.

Dami. Damiel.

Isaac gags. He remembers the name. He always will. It's them. The person who just steps back. The person with the purple woolen hat and the bright winter jacket, a happy parent on a playground, a protective spouse. 

A beautiful wife. Two kids. A boy and a girl.

They retreat, while their wife goes on counting, and Isaac nods. In and out. Yes. He's breathing. His heart rate is slowing down, his vision is starting to clear. 

Damiel.

Damiel, the monster, who took the world from Isaac, gained everything Isaac himself lost forever.

"Are you better?", the woman asks. 

Isaac looks up, into her dark eyes, clouded with worry. She's not as pretty as Sophie was, but there's something to her. Something that made Damiel love her. To choose her, as mother to their kids, to build a family with.

There have been moments, many of them, in sleepless nights, when Isaac thought about revenge. About what he'd do, should he ever encounter the monster again. Death couldn't be enough. Torture couldn't be enough. Hollow and empty, nothing compared to what they did to him.

He knows, now.

"Yeah," he whispers, and allows her to help him back to his feet. "Yes, thank you. I will be."

[chibi-tsukiko]

Five More Minutes

A Malec fic inspired by the song "The End of the World" by Billie Eilish because it’s all over TikTok and I can't get it out of my head.

I hope you like it 🙈

click on title to read on AO3 or scroll below

Tag list : @legendofconsullightwood @themostawesomehuman @littleturtle95 @tobeornottobetequila @morgnstern @zfoxdraws @bookworm-jedi @magnus-the-maqnificent @banesbitch @fair-but-wilde-child @beclynn-herondale @khaleesiofalicante @my-archerboy @youngreckless @thomaslightwood @runecarstairs @high-warlock-of-brooklyn @itsdaughterofthemoon

Magnus wakes to a high-pitched beeping. He flicks his wrist to silence the sound, keeping his eyes closed. The room is dark, but he can feel the warmth of the sun on his back as the first rays peek through the curtains. For a second he thinks the sound was an accident, a hallucination even, but then he feels the bed shift beside him. Guilt pinches him as he realizes he unconsciously shut off Alec’s alarm, but he shakes it off. He’s exhausted. They both are. Life has never been easy for them, but this past month has felt like every obstacle got together and hit at once. It’s been nonstop. Quality time has become getting dressed together, a quick kiss goodbye at the door, dinner, when they can both manage it, and the few brief moments before sleep takes hold. Neither of them are ungrateful for the roles they’ve earned, Magnus couldn’t be prouder, but they have needs too. Alec isn’t the only one who gets grumpy without his morning cuddles. They’re in desperate need of a vacation, and the second Magnus finds a window amongst the chaos, he’s whisking them away. Far away. Someplace tropical, with no cell service.

He feels a gentle press of lips on his temple, he hums, and presses his face into the pillow, hoping the bed will swallow him. And then more beeping starts. This time, from his own cellphone.

Magnus groans as he reaches to shut the accursed noise off right as the water from the shower starts. He flops back down onto his stomach, muffling a whine. He’s not ready yet.

Five more minutes.

——————————————————

He should really take a break, Magnus thinks as he summons two more books from his library. He’s been at this for days. When was the last time he slept? Tuesday? What day is it now? It doesn’t matter. He slides the plate of food Alec had left him this morning aside so he can set the books down; it clinks against the other plates. He should really just move them to the kitchen. Stepping around his desk towards the cabinet on the other side of the room, he nearly trips over himself. You need sleep. But he can’t stop. It’s been almost a week now since Catarina had come to him about a strange sickness she’d been encountering at the hospital. A week since Alec had been tracking a series of magical explosions that had been occurring throughout the city. A week since they’d started discovering the bodies of children in the streets. Almost a week since Magnus finallyconnected the events. Too long. Now he was in a race against time. He adds more ingredients to the potion and gives it a quick stir.

They haven’t found the coward whose chosen to experiment on these children. When they do, Magnus hopes to have a moment alone before Alec hands them over to the Clave. For now, Magnus can at least put his skills to use and create a cure for the illness before it claims more lives while his anger festers.

He flips through another book, while simultaneously sending one back to the library, and summoning three more. He barely registers the press in his wards, the shuffling of feet, or the hand on his shoulder. Alec says something to him, but he doesn’t really hear. He nods, answering to what, he’s not sure. He leans back over the cauldron, giving it another stir. He’s so close.

Five more minutes.

————————————————

They’ve been here for hours. Magnus is nursing his third drink of the night, his eyes never losing sight of the server as he weaves around the other guests. Despite how often he complains about attending High Warlock meetings, he’d rather listen to those old fools reminisce than another false retelling of the Claves’ accomplishments. Magnus does his best not to correct them, he even bites his tongue when they slip in a snide comment or two. It’s not worth it, he tells himself. Alec stays by his side the whole time, unwavering, but Magnus doesn’t miss the way his shoulders sag in relief each time their conversation with officials gets interrupted. Or how he squeezes Magnus’ hand whenever someone remarks about the company he keeps.

It’s nothing Magnus hasn’t heard before, nothing he doesn’t prep for before these gatherings, but that doesn’t mean Alec deserves to hear it. He can’t do anything too outlandish, but he can cause a few drink spills. Alec catches him a few times and Magnus hides his smirk behind his glass while Alec nudges him with his shoulder.

By drink number four, Magnus is at his breaking point. He’s counted the tiles on the floor a dozen times and he’s got a tension headache forming at the back of his skull. Suddenly, Alec is tugging him away, mid-conversation, cutting through the crowd, unconcerned by the sideward glances. He finds a quiet corner at the end of the hallway and Magnus starts to ask what’s wrong, but Alec kisses the question from his lips, crowding him against the stone wall.

Magnus gasps when they part, his fingers curling into Alecs jacket as he presses their bodies together. Alec’s breath is hot against his throat and Magnus has to stifle a moan. Alec shifts to cup Magnus’ face with his hands, sliding their lips back together. It’s gentler this time, slower, and Magnus hums into it. Then all too soon Alec is pulling back, Magnus keeps his eyes closed, leaning forward to chase after the kiss. Alec mutters something about returning to the event, but Magnus isn’t ready yet.

So he wraps his arms around Alec’s neck and kisses him, soft and languid.

Five more minutes.

——————————————

Magnus’ ears are ringing. His once quiet loft, now echoes with a cacophony of shrieks and giggles. He leans against the door frame of his bedroom, a warm smirk spreading on his face. He watches his heart as it twists, turns, and jumps on the massive king sized bed. A tangled mess of ivory, chestnut, and cerulean. In his hundreds of years, he never imagined he would have this. He longed for it, hoped for it, but never expected it. Yet here it is, right in front of him. Who knew the world could fit on a single mattress. Who knew that centuries of life would pale compared to moments like this: Sunday afternoons watching his husband play with their sons.

Sons. He has sons. He’s married. The words send fireworks through his body, he never tires of saying them. He feels so full.

Alec flips both boys onto their back and moves their shirts subtly before blowing raspberries on their stomachs. The room explodes with laughter, and god Magnus wants to drown in the sound.

Alec catches his eye and sends Magnus a knowing smile. Their boys immediately tackle the distracted Shadowhunter, chanting for Magnus to join them. He knows that this time is fleeting. He’s heard from Catarina’s experience, seen it himself each time Jocelyn brought Clary to his door. Children grow fast. Soon they’ll be moving on and moving out, starting their own lives. If Magnus blinks, he might miss it. So he relishes in these moments where he can step back and soak it in. He leaps onto the bed, basking in the euphoria he’s found, gripping it like a vise.

Five more minutes.

—————————————

Magnus can’t breathe. He’s dizzy with nausea, and there’s a throbbing sensation at the back of his head. He’s vaguely aware of the surrounding commotion. His mind registers voices around him, but they’re muffled as if he’s being held underwater. He feels heavy, like someone has tied anchors to each of his limbs. Everything seems to move in slow motion, and Magnus can’t make heads or tails of it.

Amongst the haze, his focus finds his husband’s face. He’s beautiful, Magnus thinks. Not just in his features, the softness of his skin, the hue of his eyes, but in his soul, his stead-fast nature, and the way he loves. Magnus can’t believe how lucky he is. His vision tunnels, fading black from the corners, and he closes his eyes to gain composure, only to snap them back open in a panic. Afraid he’ll miss something.

How did they get here? It was supposed to be their day off. Magnus had planned a full day of lounging on the couch, but the universe had other plans, it seems. He should have silenced Alec’s phone.

The world tilts on its axes, and Magnus wills himself to stay in the moment. The hand in his is hot, he squeezes it, desperate to commit the feeling to memory. Alec’s face blurs and Magnus is quick to blink, tears smearing the kohl around his eyes. He looks disheveled, he’s sure, but he can’t care. He just needs to focus.

Please, he begs as another wave hits him.

Five more minutes.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

SHOOTING STAR

Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 1.555

Warnings: fluff; hurt with no real comfort; sad; angsty; all the feels; happy end (?)

A/N: It might contain spoiler for the Kingsglaive movie ending

Summary: Two years ago Nyx had lost the love of his life because of Niflheim and once again the anniversary is around the corner. The only time where Nyx allows himself to watch the stars...

"Oh, look! Another one!", you called out excited, pointing at the sky as you saw another shooting star crossing the firmament.

Nyx chuckled and watched you more than the night sky. He always could see the stars, they never changed. But he didn't want to miss a second with you. Since you had entered his life, Nyx felt happy. He felt as if he had found his place in life. He was amazed by you and your whole being. He noticed every time how beautiful and easy life was when you were around.

"You're not even looking, Nyx. You will miss all the beautiful shooting stars!", you complained with a pout but as you saw Nyx' love-filled glance, you smiled softly.

With the back of his hand, he stroked over your cheek before he cupped your face gently, "You're my shooting star, YN. I don't need anything else as long as I have you in my life."

You swallowed thickly by the heaviness of the said words. You loved Nyx. More than anything. And the way he looked at you and how his voice sounded told you that this was something different. Something deeper. More meaningfully.

Nyx pulled something out of his pocket and kept it hidden in his closed hand. He considered his next step once again but he was certain what he wanted, "YN, I... I love you. There's no doubt that I will love you till the end of time. A life without you would be meaningless for me. So, I would like to... Do you wanna marry me?", he asked softly with a pounding heart while presenting you the ring. He was sure with you and still there was a little chance that you could say no-

"Yes! Yes, Nyx! I wanna marry you!", you called out, jumping against him that he fell on his back into the soft grass of the hill that was your special place.

Nyx chuckled about your overexcitement and embraced you. As you sat up on him, he put the ring over your finger to seal the promise he gave you to love you forever. He kissed you and leant back with a smirk on his lips, "Oh, you missed a shooting star.", he said teasingly.

You brushed along his nose with yours, "I don't care. All my hopes and dreams are lying right in front of me. I would be crazy if I would ask for more when I already have found the biggest treasure.", you whispered before you kissed him deeply...

Two years later...

Present...

Nyx looked at the skyline of Insomnia and the setting sun. It was a magical light, the one you always loved so much to watch because of all the different shades of colors. The first stars showed their shy light. It was the sight Nyx loved and cursed at the same time because every single star reminded him of you. Averting his eyes, he kneaded his hands to distract himself but it wasn't working.

Libertus found his best friend on the rooftop of the Kingsglaive headquarters and closed slowly up on him. Silently, he stepped next to Nyx, not sure how he could help him.

"You know sometimes I ask myself where's the reason why I am still alive while all the others had to die. It's not fair."

"Nyx...", Libertus sighed. To see him like this was always painful to watch because there was nothing he could do for his friend.

"I miss them!", Nyx whispered with a tears filled voice, leaning away so Libertus wouldn't see his tears, "I miss YN so damn much. It's been two years and still, it almost kills me."

"I know...", Libertus said helplessly. Nyx barely showed this side to someone not even in front of him. But Libertus wasn't surprised that Nyx' was out of control emotionally with the anniversary of your death around the corner. It was the hardest time for the hero.

Not just because of your death rather because your wedding had been planned. Just a few days were left til your big day. Everyone had been excited for the both of you. All friends. Your both families. And then, Niflheim attacked Galahd and everything changed like a merciless snap with the fingers.

Libertus looked up at the slowly growing nightsky of Insomnia with the sparkling waves of the wall. Between a bunch of clouds, he spotted a small and fast shooting star, "Huh... A shooting star. A very rare sight here in the city."

"Yeah, it's because of all the lights arounds us. With all the demons... it's never really dark anymore.", Nyx sighed, looking at the sky as well, missing the beautiful, warm summer nights of his home.

"I still can remember how you and YN went every night on this one hill for stargazing. The whole summer long.", Libertus said with a sad chuckle and a heavy voice. He also missed you. The lighthearted love of his best friend had left a big gap in many people's lives.

"YN had loved stars so much...", Nyx said but his voice broke, "Could you... I... I would like to be alone for a little while. Please.", Nyx asked without looking at his friend.

"Of course.", Libertus answered, patting his friend's shoulder to show his support before he left Nyx alone with his grief.

Nyx waited till the door closed behind Libertus before he looked up at the sky again, addressing you wherever you were, "How could you leave me, huh? We were supposed to be happy. Together. With a future. We should be married by now. You ... you should be wearing my name and not lying six feet under in the cold ground.", Nyx whispered and squeezed his eyes shut, sobbing soundlessly, "I'm too tired to fight alone... I can't do this any longer...", thick tears were rolling down his cheeks as he let his hellish sadness run free, "I want to be with you again... I already should be with you. YN, please... Take me to you.", Nyx begged with a defeated voice.

A soft, warm breeze caressed Nyx' tear-soaked skin in a way only you had stroked him to make him feel special. Nyx shuddered by the feeling because it felt as if you would be near. He was craving to get touched by you just one last time even if he knew it wouldn't happen. Another, slightly stronger breeze that ran through his hair how you always had loved to do it, let him open his eyes again.

Sniffling, Nyx looked up at the sky and saw a sparkling shooting star crossing the dark blue firmament. Like a lightning, your voice appeared in Nyx' head as he remembered the night, two years ago, as his world was still perfect because you were alive and lying in his arms. Suddenly, Nyx remembered the story you had told him back then...

"Lover stars?", Nyx asked confused, looking at your profile as you stared at the night sky of Galahd.

You looked up, meeting Nyx' love-filled glance. You could still see the happiness sparkling in his eyes that you had said yes to him, "Yeah... Don't you know the legend?"

"No... I- I don't know. But you could tell me.", Nyx whispered before pressing a gentle kiss on your temple.

"A legend says, if two people love each other strongly while alive, their love will endure everything, even the test of time. When they die, they will become beautiful stars to be part of the endless depths of the universe to live side by side forever.", you explained in a low, warm voice.

Something of this legend caught Nyx' attention which let him frown, "That sounds wonderful but... What happens if one of the lovers dies early?"

"Then, the one, who died without being with their partner, will become a sparkling shooting star, traveling through the nebulas, galaxies and visiting planets until the true love will join them."

"And what happens when they meet again? Are they flying around together?"

"Kinda… Then, they will cross the sky together one last time, side by side, to reach the place where their love and hearts belong. For us, I'm sure it will be here...in Galahd.", you said lovely, squeezing Nyx hand...

Nyx blinked with a sad smile, " You're my shooting star, YN. Have a nice trip through the universe while waiting for me. I'm already looking forward to being with you again my love."

**

Three days later, the Crown's City had fallen. Libertus watched Lunafreya leaving the chaos that was left of Insomnia after the darkest fight they all had ever witnessed. She was on her way to bring Noctis the ring. The ring, which should save the future.

The sun rose higher into the sky while Libertus just sat there on a stone, very tired and considering his next steps. As he looked up at the clear blue morning sky without the secure wall, two shooting stars were crossing the firmament side by side.

They had been fast and were barely to be seen. Just that there were two made it even possible for Libertus to spot them.

The two stars were as close as lovers would be and they were on their way back to Galahd.

The place where you and Nyx belonged to.

Together.

Forever.

[ye4gerismarchives]

the bachelorette: the wedding

an: h-hey guys😅 a whole month w/o rhe bachelorette. y’all prolly forgot about it. fortunately, i haven’t😭 sorry yall, i’ve been up all night for the past month reading about nasty white men instead of writing for the bachelorette. this chapter has 4768 words, so i guess that’s a plus.

tags: black, fem reader. i don’t have any triggers off my head, if something does trigger you, do let me know

taglist: @taybird

5:00 am

You had plans to send Levi to his grave. How dare he wake you up at like four in the morning only to start your makeup and hair an hour later? The makeup and hair team were completely respectful towards you and respected your space, considering today was going to be full of emotions.

As your face was getting beat, there was a knock at the door. The makeup artist working on your face stopped so that you could address the person at the door. "If your name is Levi, don't bother coming in," you say. The door opens and your heart jumps because

Her Royal Highness Princess Historia and her girlfriend, Ymir, were in YOUR room.

"Oh sh*t, Your Royal Highness," you let out. Members of your team start to curtsy and bow to Historia. Ymir stands awkwardly behind her. She must have been getting used to the royal bs around her.

You stand to curtsy as well but Historia raises a hand to stop you. "Today is all about you. Ymir and I are going to be your bridesmaids today! Levi called us and we decided we would support you today!" she says cheerfully.

So, Levi probably wasn't going to die today. Now, you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him but you still side eyes him. He was a powerful guy- you were still under the impression that he said something to Mikasa during the show and caused her unusual behavior.

"O-Oh?"

"Yeah! Ymir and I will get changed but we'll see you in your dress."

And with that, the princess and her girl left your room. It was like a dream.

5:30 am

Weeks before the wedding came, you went dress shopping. However, it didn't go how you wanted it to go. Ideally, you would be dress shopping with Sasha, Mikasa, and Connie. There was no way in hell you would call Sasha and ask her to go with you. You called Connie, who refused to pick up. You thought about calling Mikasa but you felt uneasy about it. So, Levi and his husband, Erwin, went with you.

Erwin was a complete angel. He asked you respectful questions about your life and even made you laugh. Spending time with Erwin made you realized how...dark Levi was and even made you question why they were even together. But your thoughts couldn't stop you from seeing how Levi melted under Erwin's touch. They loved each other. You hoped that You and Jean would be like that.

With their help, you managed to pick the perfect dress.

Slipping it on for the second time was just as magical as it was the first. Your team awed and cooed over how beautiful you looked. Historia and Ymir entered in matching pink outfits and immediately started fawning over how good you looked.

You felt your face redden up and you couldn't help but smile. But all of that went away when a familiar face entered.

"You...you look good, y/n."

"Mikasa...what are you doing here?"

Mikasa was standing in front of you in the same pink color that Ymir and Historia were in but her outfit was a sleeveless wide-legged jumpsuit. Her bangs were brushed away from her face and the rest of her hair sat behind her ears- well, mostly.

"Levi called me. He apologized for everything and told me to come over to apologize to you too. And then he forced me to be your maid of honor," Mikasa explained.

Levi forcing her to come over sounded like him but apologizing? He must have realized he went too far, especially since Mikasa was his niece. Levi was too caught up in creating and entertaining drama that he probably forgot Mikasa's relation to him.

So, you decided to let everything go.

You walk towards Mikasa with arms open and she's shocked but she doesn't hesitate to envelop you in her arms are well.

"I'm so sorry, y/n. I know was so out of line. I'll never let any man get in the way of our friendship again," Mikasa said as she squeezed you harder.

"Same here. If things don't work out with Jean, I'll marry you instead," you joke. You can feel Mikasa's laughter vibrate against your neck. She pulls away first and you proceed to ask another question. "Have you been in touch with Sasha?"

Mikasa purses her lips and shakes her head. "She's been radio silent. I can't tell if she got more backlash than me. She's off social media and just unwilling to speak with anyone. The hate probably got to her and she's just hiding for now."

You weren't too surprised. Mikasa was doing a job- a terrible one- but Sasha went out of her way to sleep with one of your guys...but she was drunk. You could imagine Sasha being the most discussed and debated online. Without speaking to her, you wouldn't know what was really going on in her mind.

"Oh! You never said hi to Princess Historia or Ymir. They're my bridesmaids for the day," you point out. The color leaves Mikasa's face when she realizes who's in the room with her. "Sh*t. Your Royal Highness," Mikasa curtsies. Historia lets out one of her signature giggles and begins to introduce herself and Ymir to Mikasa. As that goes on, your team starts helping you with your dress again.

You were slightly glad Mikasa was by your side today. The situation between the both of you was awkward but you were willing to give her another chance.

7:30 am

In the last two hours, you've done photoshoots and chat with everyone around you. Now it was time for Jean to be yours and for you to be his. You did question the early wedding time that Levi gave you but this would probably be the last time you saw that man so let's just let him do what he wants.

You were visibly nervous. You were gripping onto Mikasa's hand like it would be your last time doing so. "Hey, just remember, he's not your real husband. At least for now. This is all show," Mikasa reminds you. She was right. Jean may have been romantic with you but also he got his hour of fame, he could possibly leave you. Maybe he would get married to Connie.

You started to take a few deep breaths as you pulled up in front of the venue. Levi had rented a beach (not the one you and Connie were on) for your wedding.

From what you could see in the car, there were multiple seats and people were filling them up. You hoped that Connie's family had no ill-feeling toward you and decided to show up. It would be a shame since you were caught on television talking about how you would love for them to be there.

Your car came to a slow end. "y/n, do not worry. Remember, THIS is all fake. Only you decide if it's real," Mikasa reminds you. Levi opens your door and offers his hand to you. "It's go time." Mikasa helped you with your veil making sure that it wouldn't hit the ground.

"y/n, I know I may have been a menace but I'm happy for you. You might have had the most popular season yet," he says. Him bringing up ratings was no shock to you. You don't reply and Levi have his moment.

You like to think that Jean would like to spend the rest of his life with you. You knew that wasn't the case with many Bachelorettes and Bachelors but you look at Levi and Erwin...ah well, that wasn't a good example, considering that Erwin wasn't a contestant. He was the previous host. 'CALM DOWN,' you tell yourself, 'YOU AND JEAN WILL BE GOOD. AND IF HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU, ITS WHATEVER BECAUSE I'M THE BEST THING EVER.'

Minutes later, you're at the end of the aisle. Jean has his back turned and he's pacing back and forth slightly. Next to him is Connie. You know this because you recognize his big egg head. You're happy he put everything aside to support the both of you.

Mikasa takes her place in front of you and the music starts. Levi offers you his arm and you take it.

This was really happening.

You looked into the audience with a smile on your face but everything was moving so fast, you couldn't recognize their faces.

Before you knew it, you were by Jean. He still couldn't look at you- not until Levi gave you away. The marriage officiant clears his throat and begins to talk.

"We are gathered here today to witness the union of Jean and y/n. Welcome friends and family! We're glad to have you with us.

Today is the beginning of a remarkable journey for this couple. Drawing on their mutual admiration, respect, and trust, they are ready to embark on the next chapter in their lives. We celebrate the love and light evident in their relationship and wish them well on this joyous occasion.

Who gives this woman away?"

"I do," Levi answers. He takes Jean's hand and places it on top of yours. Jean then moves his under yours so that he could hold it. He looks down at Levi and mouths 'Thank you'. The shorter male nods and takes a seat.

The officiant gives you and Jean a moment to face each other. Jean had the biggest smile on his face when his eyes landed on you. "You look gorgeous," he whispers. "You're not so bad yourself," you reply.

The officiant continues. "If anyone has cause to object to the forming of this union, speak now or forever hold your peace." You look over Jean's shoulder to see Connie. You couldn't see his whole face, thanks to Jean's height, but you could see his eyes. They were narrowed and looking straight at you.

You wanted to feel bad, but you couldn't. YOU decided that Connie would not be your spouse, and that was final.

No one responded to the officiant's request, so he continued.

"Marriage is an integral part of the human tradition. Let us remember, as we stand here before the Universe, that the vows taken today hold great importance, just as they did to our ancestors. As individuals, we choose to enter the union of marriage to share all aspects of ourselves with our soulmate. Today, this is true for Jean and y/n."

Soulmate. You hoped that was true for you and Jean. You did meet him on a tv show.

"There are few greater joys in life than finding someone with whom we truly "click." In that spirit, I will now share a short reading on soulmates from author Richard Bach:

"A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we're pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we're safe in our own paradise. Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we're two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we've found the right person. Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life."

Under the eyes of Ymir, together we take a moment to acknowledge the seriousness of the commitment being entered into today. With great joy, we also recognize the special bond shared by Jean and y/n.."

This...this was a special bond indeed. Not only that, it was completely random. The next part of the wedding was your vows. The next part of solidifying your relationship.

"I will now invite the couple to share their vows. Jean and y/n, the promises you make today are sacred; they are the groundwork from which your marriage will grow and blossom over time.

Jean, would you like to begin first?"

Jean nods and squeezes your hands. "y/n, hopefully by the end of this ceremony, you will be my wife. I know there's a lot that you're worried about but I'll do everything to make you happy. I'll always protect you and keep you satisfied."

"y/n, your turn."

"Jean. I'm not too sure what to say...you've out-speeched me," you joke. Jean chuckled. "But...I too promise to love and protect you. I'll also make sure we're on the same page because that's very important for our relationship. I'm willing to fight for us."

You look at the officiant, letting him know that you were done.

"Let us proceed. Jean, before your family and friends, do you take y/n as your beloved Wife, to have and to hold, through laughter and in sadness, through challenges and successes, so long as you both shall live?"

Jean is silent for a moment. He's rubbing the back of your right hand and staring straight into your eyes- almost as if he was reevaluating everything. This made you nervous. Jean was a smart guy. You know you couldn't hold him down and force him to do anything he didn't want.

"I...I do," he finally answers. The weight on your chest dissolves.

"y/n, before your family and friends, do you take Jean as your beloved Husband, to have and to hold, through laughter and in sadness, through challenges and successes, so long as you both shall live?"

"Yes, I do," you answer quickly. You hear small laughs coming from the audience.

The officiant gives you a small smile before continuing. "Wedding rings are a traditional symbol of the strength of the bond between two soulmates."  Connie comes from behind Jean with the wedding bands and gave you both one.

"This bond is never broken, and continues in a perpetual circle, glowing with the warmth and eternal light of two souls in a perfect union. By wearing these rings, you will be always reminded of the connection you share and the vows you have made today. Jean, please, repeat after me;

I, Jean..."

"I, Jean..."

"present you, y/n, with this ring..."

"present you, y/n, with this ring..."

"as a symbol of our everlasting love."

"as a symbol of our everlasting love."

"Let it never lose its luster..."

"Let it never lose its luster..."

"just as my love for you will never fade."

"just as my love for you will never fade."

Jean, still gently holding your hand, slips the ring on (whatever finger your culture uses for weddings!). He can't help but admire it for a moment. He looks back up at you with the biggest grin. All you had to do was place the ring on his finger and your marriage would be "official".

"y/n, repeat after me. I, y/n..."

"I, y/n..."

"present you, Jean, with this ring..."

"present you, Jean, with this ring..."

"as a symbol of our everlasting love..."

"as a symbol of our everlasting love..."

"let it never lose its luster..."

"let it never lose its luster..."

"just as my love for you will never fade."

"just as my love for you will never fade."

You slip the ring onto Jean's left finger.

"By the power vested in me by the Ymir Life Church and Paradis, under the eyes of the Ymir, I happily pronounce you Husband and Wife! Jean, kiss your bride."

At that moment, everyone disappeared. It was just you and Jean. Jean places a hand on your waist and pulls you in. You find your hands riding up his chest and resting on his shoulder as you get closer. You and Jean connect and all of sudden, you're not in that bubble anymore.

"Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time, I give you Mr. Kirstein and Mrs. l/n!!."

You and Jean left together as "spouses". The first thing you did was official wedding photoshoots that were to be spread all over Paradis and all over the world- thanks to social media. Y'all kinda look like Meghan and Harry tbh.

Anyway.

You both got an opportunity to change in your reception outfits. After that, it was another car ride to the reception venue. Jean held your hand and couldn't stop talking about how beautiful you looked. You were so flustered, you couldn't get a response out. When you reached the venue, the driver helped out first and Jean slipped out of the car after you. He took your hand and entered the reception venue with you.

When you entered the dining hall, you were welcomed by cheers and claps. It was extremely overwhelming- not in a bad sense, however. You looked around the room and caught some familiar faces. You saw Bertholdt and Reiner sitting at a table with another unfamiliar girl. Across the room, Mikasa is seated with Connie, Historia, and Ymir. Everyone else is family that Levi most likely reached out to.

You and Jean take a seat and the cheering calms down. You lean on Jean's shoulder and sigh. The day wasn't over yet, but you were already so tired. Jean places his head on top of yours. "I can't wait to just be with you. I don't know what you had planned tonight but to be honest, I just want to sleep. I haven't realized how tired I was until now," Jean says quietly. "I have to agree. Let's just take a shower, cuddle and just pass out."

Jean brings his head up and smirks at you. "A shower? Together?" You only roll your eyes jokingly. "Oh, look, I think Levi is gonna call us up to have our first dance." "Don't worry, I'll get my answer sooner or later, y/n. You can't run from me." Jean pokes your arm teasingly, which causes you to squirm a little bit. Levi calls you up and Jeans takes your hand to lead you to the dance floor.

(Song of your choice) starts playing and you're not even sure where to start. Jean has a hand on your waist and is holding your free hand. You have a hand on his shoulders. "I'm not even sure where to start, we never practiced," you whisper. Jean smiles softly. "Don't worry about it. We're in this together aren't we?" He begins to move, taking full control. You stumble a bit but your reception dress hides your clumsiness. After a bit, you weren't stumbling anymore. You rest your head on Jean's shoulder and he pulls you even closer. Your movements get even slower. The music slowly disappeared and so did everyone else. It was just you and Jean.

When the music actually came to an end, you pulled away slowly. "You did great," Jean says softly. "So did you." You both go back to your seats. Waiters started to come out and take everyone's orders for dinners and started to pour drinks- meaning a toast would be coming up.

Mikasa comes up to the dance floor and awkwardly clanks her glass, trying to get everyone's attention. Everyone turned their heads and it wasn't because of the awkward clanking of the glass. There were some 'What the hell is she doing here?'s and 'Eren's b*tch?'s. You could visibly see Mikasa's nervousness so you attempted to lock eyes with her. It took her a while but she could finally look you in the eye. Mikasa clears her throat. "Um, hi. You're probably wondering why I'm here but today is not about me. It's about y/n and Jean. I was once y/n's closets friends until I was pressured to do something that I wouldn't normally do." Mikasa gives Levi a side-eye. The shrimp man crosses his arms and rolls his eyes.

"y/n is absolutely amazing...I can't really put it into words but there's something about her that just make people want to be around her. I can see why Jean fought so hard to be with her."

Jean squeezes your hand when she makes that comment.

"I often think to myself about how y/n could have easily met Jean at a café or a movie theatre or something rather than on TV show. But at the same time, this was good for her...and all of us. Here we discovered the lengths of our friendship and who we really were as people. I believe these ups and downs helped y/n find Jean- her true love. Honestly, I wish you both a happy future. Make it worth it."

Mikasa raises her glass and everyone clinks their glass with their neighbors. Connie begins to walk up to the dance floor as soon as Mikasa leaves.

"I'm going to be really honest with you. This is was unexpected. I honestly thought that today was going to be about me." Connie raises his eyebrows at Jean, who furrows them.

"But I guess it's a good thing I didn't marry y/n. I wouldn't have been enough to handle. So, congrats to you, Jean. You're tolerable."

Connie gets off the dance floor without giving you or Jean a look. You look at Jean and he's hurt. "H-hey...maybe he's drunk or something. In his feelings, you know? Don't let him make you feel bad," you say. Jean gives you a small smile before sipping down his drink.

Moments later, it was time for parent dances. Jean got up to dance with his mom. It was a little bit uncoordinated than yours but they looked like they were having a lot of fun.

Next was the bouquet and garter toss. You started with the garter first. You sat in a chair with your legs cross. You knew this was going to happen but it wasn't rehearsed. Jean could see your uneasiness, so he started doing a silly sensual dance. It made you laugh and your laughter got louder once he started shimming down to the floor. He got closer to your thigh and you felt your face heating up. You slapped your hand over your mouth once he starting biting the garter and pulling it off. As he continued, you cupped your face. When Jean was finally day, cheers erupted and you uncovered your hot face. Jean closes his eyes and throws the garter into the crowd and it lands in the hands of Reiner. The guys cheer even louder for him as he awkwardly glances over at Bertholdt, who is a few people away from him.

Next was the bouquet throwing. You closed your eyes and the guest counted you off. Once you heard the number three, you threw the bouquet. You open your eyes and turn around to see that Bertholdt had gotten the flowers. His face is so red...he look like a tomato.

After your guest settled down, it was time to cut your cake, meaning that your wedding day was almost over. You picked a (cake of your choice) for tonight. "It looks delicious. I can't wait to try it," Jean whispers in your ear. "It is. You'll love it," you respond. You pick up a knife. Jean wraps his hands around yours. You both gently place the knife on the cake and pushed it down. You lean back to give Jean a kiss and he gives you one. Jean grabs two forks by the cake and hands one over to you.

Jean scoops a piece of the cake first. He places a hand on your chin and you open your mouth. "Ladies first," he says as he places the cake in your mouth. You take a minute to savor the taste before swallowing. You also take a piece of the cake and get on your toes to feed Jean. He chuckles softly at your struggle before taking the fork from you and feeding himself. "You're right, it's good," he says after swallowing. He bends down slightly to give you another kiss.

The night was slowly coming to an end. There was no sight of Connie after his stupid speech and Levi and Erwin were getting ready to get home. Historia and Ymir had left right after the cake cutting ceremony but had promised to call you once everything had settled down. You and Jean formally greeted your guest and started your goodbyes.

Mikasa had gone up to you with a slightly awkward face. "Today wasn't so bad, huh?" she starts. You give her a kind smile. "It wasn't. Did you enjoy yourself?" Mikasa pauses to answer. "Your wedding was beautiful...however, I can't get upset over the reaction about me being here. y/n, I have to apologize again. What I did was completely wrong. I shouldn't even be blaming Levi for everything. I could have told you at first and-"

You pull Mikasa into a hug to shut her up. "Mikasa, move on. Come on, we're adults! At least you're apologizing and trying- unlike someone we know," you joke. You pull away. "Hopefully, if Jean and I have a real wedding, it won't be as awkward for you." Mikasa nods. "I'll see you around. Congrats." As Mikasa walks off, Reiner, Bert, and this mystery blonde come up to you. Inside Reiner's pocket is your garter sticking out and Bertholdt is clenching your bouquet.

"Hey," you start," Thank you for coming. Who's your friend?"

Bertholdt looks over at the blonde. "Thank you for inviting us...um...this is Annie. My dad thought you were her."

Now, why did Bertie's dad think you was this yt girl?😟

LMAO. "Nice to keep you, Annie. You Bertie's girl?" you ask.

Annie shakes her head no frantically. "OH, NO. Never in a million years, no. Yuck!" she answers dramatically. Reiner throws an arm over Bert's shoulder. "He's actually my boy now," he says proudly. "OH-! Congrats! So we're having a wedding for you soon, yes?" You tease. Reiner nods and Bertie tries to hide his face in Reiner's hair. "When did this all happen...? I just eliminated you like...two weeks ago?"

"Well...Reiner and I were still in contact and when I left, he reached out to me. We met up a few times and we hit it off," Bertie explains. "Congrats. I'm really happy to hear that," you answer. You turn around to look for Jean. He's talking to his mom. He gives you a small glance before continuing his conversation with her. "I better go catch up with Jean. It was nice to see you...and finally meeting you, Annie." The trio say their goodbyes before leaving.

You make your way over to Jean but you're stopped by the human fit of annoyance- Levi. You were so tired of him but you threw on a smile since Erwin was walking over as well. "Yes, Levi? I thought we were done here," you say in a singsong voice. "Aw, you're ready to go?" Levi says sarcastically. You open your mouth to answer but he cuts you off. "For starters, thank you for adding on to mine and Erwin's paychecks. We really appreciate it. Arrangements for your hotel and honeymoon have been put together. You're tired of me, but don't hesitate to call me if something goes wrong. Besides that, I wish you luck. Make everything worth it."

Levi walks past you and Erwin stops to hug you before following his husband.

Jean makes his way up to you, his mom following behind. "Everything good? I saw shrimp talking to you." You take Jean's hand. "Everything's good." Jean pulls you into a side hug. "Aw, you guys are so cute. I really do hope you last," Jean's mom comments, "I've always wanted a daughter."

"Mom, nothing's official yet-"

"I'm glad you think of me as your daughter, June."

"Well, I'll see you later. Jean, take care of her tonight. Be good to her and listen to her. Don't be rough, she's not a rag doll," June warned her son. She had a finger up in his face and everything. Seeing their relationship on the regular was going going to be hilarious.

Jean swats his mom's finger out of his face before waving her goodbye. He then fully wraps his arms around you. "No offense. But I'm glad this is over. We'll get to know each other one on one now," he says. You can't help but agree.

ITS FINALLY OVER. well not exactly. i have one more chapter to write and y’all will never hear about levi, 12 guys, and dates ever again😭 but since this series has reached its goal (you getting married) please do me a favor and rate my series, it would be appreciated!

[softsebnbuckystan]

Soul ties - Part 1 (Bucky Barnes au)

“Oh, my my my soul so glad He's popped by to say hello to me„

Your wedding day was coming soon, which is why you were parading around the store in a puffy white dress. You had insisted this is the last thing you did, since you didn't trust yourself with a white dress and unsupervised. Your best friend was there, obviously, and he was a little too excited about this dress.

"I love it", he said. "You look like a princess."

"I'm not sure..." You sighed. "It's too much, I'd like something slimmer, like..."

"A mermaid cut would be stunning on you," the sales assistant chimed in. "I actually think of this dress...wait a second."

She came back as quickly as she'd left with a gorgeous long-sleeved white dress. It was simple, with some lace here and there, and you loved it at first sight. After putting it on, you were convinced Darren, your groom, would love it as much as you did.

"Considering the smile on your face, I don't think I need to ask if you like it."

"No need, indeed. Oh Steve, isn't it beautiful?"

"It is, y/n. This dress found its owner, I believe."

Steve Rogers hadn't been in your life for a long time, and yet you could not imagine your days without his precious advice. He'd done a great job at rescuing you in Sokovia and even though you might not have had the same powers as your little sister Wanda, he decided to protect you as well. That's what Steve did : he protected people he cared about and now, he was your best friend, a brother, a shoulder to cry on and a contagious smile to hear.

"I can't wait to walk you down the aisle."

"Are those tears in your eyes, big guy ?"

He shook his head, visibly moved. You flashed him a cheeky smile as you walked to the changing room and you heard him snort. In the car back home, Steve couldn't help but think about your dress choice. You'd been avoiding this kind question the whole day.

"I love the dress you picked, of course, but is there a peculiar reason you rejected the one that showed some skin?"

You anticipated his next question and decided it was best to answer it right away. Talking about soulmate tattoos never missed to make you feel like an imposter, a liar. You couldn't say you liked that.

"You know the skin isn't the problem, Steve. And no, I still haven't changed my mind about Darren."

Steve looked back at the road and nodded.

"I support you no matter what, you already know that. I just wonder how it's possible he hasn't seen the tattoo yet."

"I'm careful. And whenever he asks, I tell him I was born without one."

"He buys that ?"

"Yeah. It's happened to other people, sadly. He can never know the tattoo doesn't show his first words to me. I love him and that is all that matters." You desperately searched for a change of subject or a way to lighten the mood. "I'm still wondering what my supposed soulmate did – or will do – to me though... I mean, 'shit, i'm sorry' isn't common. I've never seen swear words on anyone's body except mine."

"Well, you are far from common yourself after all."

"I guess you're right."

---

"Ready ?"

You exhaled slowly and closed your eyes for a second. The smell of roses and grass was all around you and you could feel some rays of sunshine hitting your skin. Coming back to yourself, you looked at Steve and placed your hand on his arm.

"Ready," you answered, even though you did not mean that.

"Easy," he said as he felt your hand shake. "Darren is already crazy about you, he's not gonna run away. You on the other hand...well, it's still time to make it happen."

"I don't wanna run away, silly! I... I want to marry him. I am just, you know, slightly anxious."

"Yeah, slightly." He scoffed. "It's okay, you have the right to be anxious. Let's go, shall we?"

You almost couldn't hear the music playing as you started walking down the aisle. Every one was looking at you and it made you feel...weird ? Darren, at the other end of the path, was smiling at you. He strongly believed in you being his soulmate. After all, all his tattoo said was "hello", and he'd been confused his whole life at the amount of people speaking that word around him. You tried to smile back, of course, even though it felt slightly off. No one was looking at you weird, though, so it must've been just a feeling. Steve finally left you next to Darren.

"Dear guests, friends and family, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union in marriage of Darren Garrett Ward and y/n y/l/n."

Wanda, your sister and bridesmaid, gave you a reassuring look. She knew about the tattoo as well, even though she always thought of it as an old-dated superstition who tricked people into believing there was only one person right for them in the universe. That couldn't be true in her opinion, since she was blissfully in love with an android, who – technically speaking – had no skin to put a tattoo on. Her views on this had played a great role into making you feel better about lying to Darren.

"I, Darren Garrett Ward, take you, y/n y/l/n, to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

Okay, your turn now. You had this. With a smile on your face, you proceeded.

"I, y/n y/l/n, take you, Darren Garett Ward, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Sir, you may kiss the bride."

As Darren leaned in to kiss you, the whole crowd cheered and threw flower petals at you. That was the moment you finally felt filled with joy. The sun was shining above your head and everyone was perfectly happy for a moment. The kiss ended and Darren took your hand to take you a little farther in the beautiful garden, where all the tables had been installed for the party. Seated at the biggest table, you felt good, even with all those pair of eyes over you. You were married to the man you'd loved for three years, and nothing could ruin this perfect night. Steve finally joined you after speaking of the last details with the band he'd hired.

"Mrs y/l-Ward, I believe I haven't properly introduced you to my friend here..."

Unfortunately for the friend ini question, that was the moment a kid chose to hit him with a football, causing him to spill coffee all over your chest.

"F*ck, that's hot!" you exclaimed after getting up as a reflex.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said instantly, with a somewhat grumpy voice because of the slight humiliation.

The two of you immediately shot looks at each other, at loss for words. Steve, who'd heard the exchange, couldn't believe his eyes. He'd always thought that his friend's "f*ck, that's hot" tattoo meant...well, something else. In an effort to seem unsuspicious, he finished introducing his friend.

"Bucky, meet y/n. I..."

"Steve, you'll finish the presentations later," Darren interrupted. "Y/n needs to change. Can you take care of that ?"

In an another scenario, you would've preferred Darren to offer his own help but there and then, you jumped on the occasion as Steve seized your hand and strode away from the scene. You were – undoubtedly – in total disbelief and when Steve handed you your evening dress, you had no idea what was going on anymore.

"What do I do now ?"

--- yes, i am back! I rarely post on this media, but I hope my story can make some people smile or just spend ten minutes away from their problems! Feel free to give me feedback

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. CXXIII

It was a love story from the very beginning

Missing Each Other

(15x06/15x07/15x08)

Hello my friends! We are still walking over the last Destiel breakup. I'm gonna talk in this meta about how they miss each other even when they're mad at each other. Because they're two dumbasses in love.

Remember this is a summary from my season 15 metas. You can find all the links from these episodes here: X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X and X.

Come Back Home

Previous episode we saw a visual reference that linked Dean with a fish. Now in episode 15x06 we have Castiel trying to catch a (hard) fish and walking around a fishing ship, mentioning Dean to let us know, the symbolism about that sneaking fish. Castiel misses him.

Another important visual element in this episode was the lady reading a book that pictures the Destiel breakup we are witnessing and writers are making it one of the centric topics.

I'm talking about the Destiel color coded lady, with a hint of pink (happiness)...

...reading a novel titled: "Lovers Quarrel".

An now, let's talk about the awkward Destiel phonecall.

Let me tell you that Dean didn't have to ask to talk with Castiel when he was speaking with the sheriff, but he did it anyway. Why? Because he missed Castiel.

Even so, he won't recognize it. Because he is still mad, and Castiel is still mad, then why is Dean asking for him?

Because he needed to scold him about not answering Sam's messages. Because Sam is messaging him, but Dean is not.

And then...

Look at this:

DEAN: Would you put my agent on the phone, please?

He can't lose the opportunity to talk with Cas.

SHERIFF ROY [handing the phone to Cas]: He wants to talk to you.

CASTIEL: Hello?

He wasn't happy about it, at all. As a parallel with that phonecall in season 14, in which Castiel said it was good to hear Dean's voice, this time it isn't.

DEAN: Cas. Sam's been trying to call you.

CASTIEL: I know.

DEAN: Did you check his messages?

CASTIEL: Nope.

Dean is behaving very childish here, and Castiel isn't checking the Winchester's messages, because he really wanted to move on from them, from Dean.

DEAN: Right. Smart. Why would you? Look, I don't know if you care or not, but, uh... God... Chuck... is back on the board, so watch yourself. And check your damn messages.

After this, Dean suddenly cut the call, and Castiel looks very upset about that. But thing about these words Dean told him has a hidden message:

And then... "Chuck is back in the game." Is the same as if Dean wanted to say HEY CAS YOU LEFT BECAUSE CHUCK WAS GONE, WELL, HE IS BACK, SO... YOU HAVE TO COME BACK BECAUSE CHUCK IS BACK. NOT BECAUSE I'M MISSING YOU SO MUCH AND I'M SO DEPRESSED SINCE YOU LEFT, BUT BECAUSE CHUCK IS BACK.

That's so Dean, right?

A miscellaneous point I repeated so many times in all my metas from this season was, Castieo was related to people dressing green and pink and Dean with people dressing blue and pink: THIS IS BECAUSE THEY'RE EACH OTHER'S HAPPINESS.

Another symbolic reference, this time related to Dean's behavior, it's the following piece of dialogue between Dean and Sam at the beginning of the scene:

DEAN: You know they still put, um, jokes on the backs of these things. Listen to this one... What's round and bad-tempered? "A vicious circle." (...)

This is self referencing over here, my friends, because is talking about how Dean is stuck in his toxicity, and his way to "solve" his problems and repress his feelings m is a vicious circle that never ends, and he's playing in the same line, and lying to himself. The bad temper, is a reflection of Toxic Dean, and he's trapped in this vicious circle, and he needs to MOVE ON to make things changing.

And because we had people moving in this episode, it's another symbolic analogy to what Dean must do to grow up.

Bi!Dean episode and Dean's attempt to fix things with Castiel

Episode 15x07 was full of Bi!Dean subtext.

Dean is praised by a male sheriff, and we had a waitress flirting with him. And Dean rejecting her all the time. Why? Because he behaves as a married guy, married with Castiel, if you know what I mean.

We had the whole bi flag lighting when Dean was singing on the stage, and this whole sexual tension with his old friend, Castiel's mirror.

Jumping from Bi!Dean to the Destiel breakup, we had this symbolic dialogue:

When Dean found the girl at the bar, he interrogates her, but Lee, his friend, called him, and the words he says: "She went without saying goodbye?" "Well, maybe she deserved it."

This was related to episode 15x03 when Castiel walked away from Dean. It felt as if he didn't say goodbye to Dean, 'but maybe Dean deserved it.'

Keeping the drama here, we had Castiel calling Dean the whole episode and Dean not answering the phone.

Castiel came back to the bunker because he had a plan, but when things doesn't work well, he calls Dean... A lot of times. But Dean didn't answer... Just like a cheating husband. Cas lost his temper and he even shouts WHERE ARE YOU!? At the phone.

Avoiding the whole Swayze's Bar and Rocky's Bar parallels you can find in my meta link on the top of this analysis, let's just go to the 'Lovers Quarrel scene and enjoy the failed attempt from Dean to fix things with Cas... à la Dean.

Gift credit @agusvedder

When Dean appeared at the bunker, Castiel's face is about surprise, relief, and a hint of heart eyes, Dean is acting as if nothing had happened between them, just like I expected to occur, because is his way to avoid things. But this time it won't work, because CAS recalls immediately Dean's hard words and the last call, and he recalls that THEY DIDN'T PART FRIENDS (this quote from episode 7x17 when they came back to see each other after the break up in season 6).

That's why I said Dean is trying to fix things à la Dean here, just acting as if nothing happened. It's the coward way to try to approach the love of your life.

Awkward, horrible and wonderful, Awkward silence. The romantic tension here! Even my dog saw it. This was deliberately written and performing to show what it is: ROMANTIC TENSION.

This was gold... because Dean's face is yelling: Uh, oh, wait, don't go, we still can chat a little... oh wait, right. Things are still bad... got it.

So, Cas changed his face, and he just threw a few words, and leaves, quickly. Dean senses this, and he just grimaced, okay... What did you expect, Dean? Things are not good. You need to use your words!

Imagine their hearts running fast, dry mouth, knowing they love each other so much and they missed each other so much. They're finally in the same room, but things are not good. Castiel is very hurt and Dean can't spell the magic words.

And now, it his wasn't enough Destiel pining for you... we had this last scene:

Gifset credit @agusvedder

Dean stares at Castiel, and Castiel feels that look, but he didn't look back at Dean. This is because Castiel is trying to show Dean how much he hurted him. The Destiel eye-fuck/eye-love making has been always their way of intimate communication. Well. Castiel cut it off here. Just like Dean did with that phonecall.

Time to Fix things. Time for Purgatory 2.0

The whole episode 15x08 showed how broken were Destiel. Dean and Castiel were shown in divided, separated, in all the frames.

We also had this...

Gif credit @agusvedder

Castiel didn't touch Dean to heal him FOR THE FIRST TIME. This scene was very meaningful to show things are not good.

We also had the scene with Rowena, in which they were sitting far away from each other, another empty seat in the middle, and Rowena noticing this, and obviously, giving that married couple a good speech. Almost yelling at them to fix their mess.

So, if Dean and Castiel had to fix their relationship, what better than go to Purgatory again. The place where Dean realized he was in love with Castiel. Because it was pure, and his feelings and thoughts alined into one spot: THE LOVE HE FEELS FOR THAT ANGEL.

After this scene, Dean and Castiel spoke with Michael, and did you know what Michael says in one of his lines?:

ADAM: What about 'I'm sorry'?

LEGENDARY MY FRIENDS! The whole Universe was yelling at Dean to use his words and ask for forgiveness to his angel, to fix things with him. That's why karma sent them back to Purgatory.

Miscellaneous: two things I want to point about Saileen: they were mirroring Destiel the whole time, even the goodbye scene and even Dean calling Eileen as the hot woman perfect for Sam, that understands him, it was a reference to Castiel, the perfect man for Dean, that understands him and is pretty hot.

Second is the fact that Castiel cockblocked Sam and Eileen. Again, karma. 🤣

To Conclude:

The 'Lovers Quarrel' was shown in the show as one of the centric topics. GA could see and be aware of the ROMANTIC TENSION between these two.

But don't worry, the breakup is coming to it's end in the next episode. One of the most beautiful Destiel scenes, and is happening in Purgatory of love 2.0.

I hope you liked this meta, see you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @dizzypinwheel @horsez2002 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @belacoded @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @deancasgirl777

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from season 15, here you have the links:

Vol. CXXI, CXXII.

Buenos Aires, July 25th 2021 12:47 PM