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kentopedia · 7 months

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it's been decades since you've last seen dazai; your lover & your maker. now that you're finally happy, he's haunting you again with a thousand buried memories.

overall contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, exes to lover, gothic romance, blood drinking, vampire!reader, vampire!dazai, smut, cheating reader, complicated relationships, blood, gore, jealousy, manipulation, religious symbolism, betrayal, reunions — currently at 21k words

PART III ♰ MASTERLIST

Night after night, you returned to the bar to indulge in the taste of Dazai, the single ambrosia from Heaven that your ill-forgotten God had bestowed upon the earth. How lucky you were, you believed, to be the sole being that he would share himself with completely; no one else would know such bliss.

The conversation started out as little, but as the days and nights continued, you found yourself seeping into his presence, remembering just how easy it was and would always be. Osamu was your sole addiction, and like any weak person would, you continued to return to your vice.

Each moment you spent with him was like a beginning and end. A longing for a time that you could never return to and a fresh start all at once. Unlike the man from your old memories, he never turned to smirk at the women that were leering at him, brown irises focused only on the small quip of your lips as he drew an exhale of a laugh from you.

His humor was dry, and Dazai teased you often, but he wasn’t unkind—he wasn’t the evil monster that you remembered him being, even in the moments that you loved him with every ounce of your body and soul.

For the first time in his life, he opened up to you, told you things that he had never told anyone before. His life had been a mystery to you for decades; he’d kept it sheltered inside of him, a vulnerability that he would never let any enemy capitalize on. Now, though, he trusted you, perhaps in a way that he didn’t think he could until you’d spent time apart.

If you hadn’t turned on him in his darkest moments, sought to end him in a way that he’d always claimed to want, then certainly, at least a fraction of your love was true.

Despite all of that, though, you kept everything about your relationship transactional. You met up with him, gave him an ear and shared some of your own trials from the times you were apart. At the end of it all, you considered him nothing more than the man you once loved, the one that had turned you when you’d been at the lowest point of your life.

The relationship you shared could never be explained by a singular word. It was years of tragedy and misery and a love so deep that it consumed you from the inside out until it destroyed you.

That love would always be there. You’d always love him, but you were resolved to letting him go. This time, you could close this chapter of your life, could end things with Dazai on a note that didn’t leave a bitter taste in your mouth. You could become a person outside of him, could love Atsushi and learn what your new immortal life would be like with a man that had a silver heart, instead of one encased in iron.

Every night, when you left the bar and crawled back into bed with Atsushi, that’s what you reminded yourself of. If he ever grew suspicious of your activity, he never made note of it, and he stopped mentioning the deaths that had increased tenfold, the ones that were bleeding him dry and exhausting him to the point of collapse.

When three weeks had passed, and things had continued in the same vein, Atsushi reached his breaking point. His eyes were red, dark circles around them, his cheeks hollow. Somehow, you hadn’t noticed how much weight he’d lost until then, how pale his skin had become.

Atsushi had waited up for you, his knees curled up in his chest as he sat against the headboard. There was something vacant about his eyes, the life that lingered there had nearly disappeared.

Guilt clawed its way up your body until it tasted like nausea, and you wanted to vomit from the horrid emotion that took control. In every possible way, you’d neglected the man that was supposed to be the love of your life, turned a blind eye to spend time with the vampire that had once broken you so completely. It was a sickening twist of fate, and you had no idea how to even begin apologizing.

“Atsushi,” you said, the syllables tumbling out of your dry lips.

Though, you didn’t get far with whatever miserable statement you were attempting to make. Atsushi sighed, and looked up at the ceiling, tipping his head back as he rang his fingers together. “They’re sending me away for a week. Starting tomorrow.”

It took you a moment to process his words. You stared back at him, before rushing towards the bed, not bothering to kick off your shoes. “What?” you asked, aghast. “For more work? Atsushi, look at you. Some days, you can hardly stand.”

He shook his head, smiling softly as you came into his orbit. Atsushi’s hands were soft on your thigh, even though you couldn’t feel a thing under the thick layers of your dress. His purple eyes were full of an intense love, but so different than the predatory, desperate affection that Dazai had always shared.

You stiffened under his palm, hating that Dazai even crossed your mind. Atsushi retracted his hand, eyebrows narrowing together.

“It’s not for more work,” he said, yawning, despite himself. “They want me to take a break. Get out of the city and away from the murders for a while.” Atsushi laughed, though it was bitter and self-deprecating. “I don’t blame them. I’m a detective, and I can’t handle—”

“Atsushi, they’re gruesome. They’re vile. That doesn’t make you weak, that means you’re caring.” You deflated, crawling over to him to hold his cheek gently. “Any normal person would vomit at the sight of that. You shouldn’t be criticizing yourself for something like that.”

His frown deepened, but he said nothing.

“Can I come too?” you asked, even though you knew it would be difficult. There wasn’t enough time to plan, enough time to figure out an alternative to Dazai’s blood while you were in proximity to Atsushi.

Something that, you began to realize, would quickly become an issue. As long as Atsushi was human, you would always run the risk of hurting him.

Atsushi shook his head, finally, lacing his fingers in with yours against his cheek. “I think it’s best if I go alone. I need some time to process everything, and I think I’ll rest more this way.”

“But I don’t want you to be alone with all those horrible thoughts,” you frowned. “You’ll ruminate on them, and I don’t want you to come back feeling even worse than before.”

“I’ll be fine,” he promised. “I love you, but I want to worry about this on my own. Can you understand that?”

You were silent, a part of you secretly relieved, but evenly concerned. It seemed like the first step Atsushi might take in pushing you away, even if you had been the one to topple the first domino.

“Alright,” you finally said, standing once again to change into your night clothes. “Come back immediately if you don’t think you’re okay. Can you promise me that, at least?”

Atsushi nodded.

He left the next day.

You arrived at the bar earlier than Dazai, this time, your usual barstools occupied by two old men smoking new cigars. Instead, you sat at the table by the piano, with the woman that had long since learned Dazai wasn’t interested.

The bartender made you a drink you hadn’t asked for, finally taking his shot in the dark now that Dazai wasn’t around. Although you took it, you politely refused conversation, staring ahead at the wall instead, in the hopes that your once lifelong companion would hurry.

It had been two days since Atsushi had gone away, and you’d avoided Dazai in the meantime. An unwise decision, considering that your hunger had only increased tenfold in the hours that you were holed up in your apartment. There was nothing to occupy you there but a collection of books you’d already read and a piano that Atsushi hadn’t tuned in ages.

You tapped your fingers against the table impatiently. The door chimed again. This time, when you looked up, a pair of dark eyes were staring back, feet already dragging him across the room to greet you.

Dazai pulled out the chair, raising his eyebrows at your sour expression. “I take it something’s wrong?”

“Atsushi left,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back in the chair. “He’s been overworking himself, trying to figure out who this mass murderer is that’s roaming the streets. I have to sit there with a pretty smile and pretend I have no idea what’s happening at all.”

“You don’t have to. You could tell him everything, turn me over to him and spill every secret I’ve ever told you to the vampire hunters that will certainly come after me.” Dazai smiled lazily, leaning over the table. “You could do that. Why don’t you?”

You made a face at him. As if it wasn’t obvious that if you hadn’t turned him over already, then you wouldn’t do it now. Perhaps it was for the sake of all the good memories that you’d shared over the century. Perhaps it was only the fact that his blood had turned you into something immortal, and that part of your soul would never let you turn him over.

It didn’t really matter. That just wasn’t an option.

“You promised you’d cover your tracks better,” you said, ignoring his previous question to lean further over the table. “You’ve killed more people than live in my neighborhood, all in the span of a month. How can you sit there and pretend like—” you stopped, hushing as someone from two tables over began to listen in. “Osamu…”

“I’ve hidden my tracks better than you realize. I have centuries of experience, and I don’t need you to worry about that.” He shook his head, reaching for you across the table.

For once, you let him. Dazai gave a small smile as he took your hand, caressing the crease between your thumb and index finger.

“I can’t keep up with your increasing appetite on my usual diet,” he said, squeezing your palm once more before releasing it. “You cannot continue living with this human on a diet of animal blood, and I cannot continue feeding you without feeding off twice as many people.” He pinned you with his steely gaze, and, against every rational part of your being, you pressed your thighs together, shifting uncomfortably.

“You don’t have to drain them, Osamu. Let them live.”

He laughed, leaning away from you. “Well, I certainly haven’t been killing everyone, sweetheart. Just enough to keep your precious little pet busy. That way, he’ll never notice that his lovely fiancé is sneaking off to see her much more charming lover.”

You clenched your jaw, digging your nails so sharply into your thighs that blood dribbled down your legs. None of that should’ve come as a shock to you. That Dazai would plan something so elaborate, that he would lure you away from Atsushi; it was exactly the kind of plot that he would weave.

“You’re such a fool,” you spat, shaking your head as you turned away to face the door once more. It chimed as people came in and out, leaving the bar only by stumbling over their feet. It was too early; much too early for anyone to be such a mess. “I’m never going to love you again, Osamu. You lie, and you lie, and you lie.”

Dazai’s eyes flashed. “Is that the case?” He peered into every crevice of your face, into your soul, into the truths of your heart that were stripped bare by understanding. “From where I’m sitting, you’re the liar. You don’t tell the human where you’re going, and you pretend that you don’t have to tear yourself away from me every time you have a taste of my blood.”

He seemed far too proud of himself for you to be anything but irritated.

“We aren’t friends, Osamu. This is nothing more than a way for me to survive. Don’t pretend to know otherwise.”

“No, we never really have been friends, have we?” he laughed. “Yet, I never ran out of reasons to love you. Even more, I find something about you that I adore, something that I didn’t already know.”

You set your jaw, finally turning back to him. There was an openness to his features, a small smile that sent you whirling.

Every time he reminded you of his pure adoration, you tripped back over yourself, stumbling into a person that you haven’t been in half a century, one that lost all her senses when it came to an ancient vampire with those burning eyes.

“You don’t mean anything to me,” you said, and though Dazai was grinning at you, knowing too well that you were lying, you kept your voice steady. “We’ve both agreed to keep this relationship as it is, so don’t push your luck.”

“If that’s the case, then come back to my hotel with me,” he whispered, almost like a command, like he could twist your mind the same way that he could a human’s. “You can have as much as you want without worrying that someone will walk around the corner.”

“No,” you shook your head fiercely, not allowing your mind to wander into that territory. You thought of all the times you’d had Dazai laid out on your bed, ripping into his throat as he came inside of you. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you dug your fingers harder into your thigh. “It doesn’t matter if anyone sees, you and I both know that you can just erase their memories.”

He huffed. “But it’s so much more enjoyable in private, isn’t it?”

“No.”

He drew your name out on his lips, teasing and lighthearted. You denied one more time, clenching your jaw.

Dazai was silent. You’d thought that you’d won, that you could get your way with him once and for all. You made your way to your feet, ready to walk out in the alley and launch yourself at him. Perhaps this time, you would finally bleed him dry. Then, he’d be weak enough for you to kill, and you’d never have to put up with him again.

Though, none of that happened. Dazai’s expression shifted at the drop of a pin, turning into one of flat stoicism. His tone was no longer playful, and it instead became deep and serious, one that he saved for so few occasions because he knew what it did to you.

“Sit back down.”

You glared, feeling the annoyance twist into something different. “And if I don’t?”

“You’ll do what I say, or you won’t get any of my blood, sweetheart.” Though you nearly snapped the chair at the sound of his deepened voice, you followed his directions. Something had been set aflame deep within you, and he was a cheating bastard, cruel and conniving and everything that you’d once held dear. “Good girl,” he said in a whisper that only your vampiric hearing could translate.

You stared at him, too afraid that if you moved a muscle, you would lose every ounce of your composure.

His eyes raked over you, eyelashes fluttering over his cheekbones before settling on your flushed cheeks, the way you shifted uncomfortably, repeating Atsushi’s name over in your head, even though it started to sound suspiciously like Osamu.

“You’ll come back with me now, won’t you?”

Dazai watched for a moment longer as you squirmed under his steely gaze, and then his lips broke into a smile, like he’d just won a game and you were his prize for the taking.

“Nothing more,” you said, your words far too weak and wispy to come from your own throat. “I want your blood and nothing more.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning over the table two get close to your ear. “Don’t lie to me. I can smell how wet you’re getting.”

You flew out of the chair, taking two steps backward before you crashed into the waitress, who dropped the tray of drinks all over the floor, cursing at you as the glasses shattered.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, flustered as you remembered the last time something like that had happened, and it all seemed too familiar that you wondered if you had already died and this was your own brand of personal hell.

Resisting Dazai seemed more of a feat than braving the seven circles.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, and you backed up once more, crashing into Dazai’s chest, the smell of him all so overwhelming that you were salivating, desperate. He held you tightly to him, snaking a possessive arm around your waist.

“I’m sorry about my darling wife. She’s had a very stressful week.”

Something about that word made you weak in the knees, and you were only held up by Dazai’s strong embrace, forced to let his strength carry you. For decades, you’d lived in marriage, and he’d never referred to you as such. Never had Atsushi muttered the word so lyrically, had never drawn it out on his tongue in a way that made you desperate for him.

It was special when it came from Dazai. You could only melt from it.

The woman said nothing as Dazai dragged you away, forced you to gain control of yourself before you were out of the bar. Just a few steps and you would be outside, free to take what you wanted, the drink of ambrosia just inches from your lips.

“Let me, ‘samu,” you said, your voice small as soon as you reached the cool, evening air. “I’m so hungry.”

Though, he wouldn’t let you indulge, kept your lips from his vein as he smiled, brushing your hair away from your face. “Not yet, sweetheart. Be patient.”

You were buzzing, vibrating under your skin with anticipation, and if it wasn’t for Dazai’s strong grip on your arm, you would’ve lunged after one of the passersby. The scent of him so near to you drove you to the brink of insanity. Yet, he refused to let you so much as kiss his dark vein, keeping you at a distance as he waited for a carriage.

Neither of you spoke until you got to his hotel, one of the finest in the city, paid for by the centuries of wealth he had accumulated.

Dazai greeted those who walked out the door like they were old friends, a sideways smile at the man who stood behind the desk. They let him pass with nothing more than cheerful grins, already adoring the beautiful vampire with the sensual air that never seemed to leave him.

“Almost there, my darling,” he whispered under his breath, hushed and sultry. “Then, I promise you can take as much as you want.”

You ached, clutching onto his arm, your lust, hunger, and undying love all hitting you at once. It was like you were drowning in it, swallowed whole by the man that you wanted so deeply, so passionately. You needed him like a mortal needed air, even if you refused to let yourself accept it.

Dazai shut the door, locked it. You barely had time to register your surroundings, the finest linens and carpets that were draped across the room.

Instead, all you could stare at were his lips—the perfect shape of them, the perfect curve. How soft they appeared in the dark light of the evening, and how much you wanted to kiss them.

One time.

That would be all. It would be enough to get him out of your system, and then you’d never have to see him again.

With a speed that would have been imperceptible to a human, Dazai was upon you, his hands on your jaw tightly as he backed you into a wall, kissing you with every ounce of passion within him. His nails drew blood from your cheeks, seeping between the cracks in his fingers as you kissed him so hard that his lips bruised.

You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, so you touched him all over, his jaw, his shoulders, the lean expanse of his chest. He pressed himself closer, and you could feel him straining against his pants, the bulge so prominent that it had only been hidden by his coat before.

“Do you understand what you do to me? How badly I crave you?” He was kissing you over and over, across your jaw, down your neck, licking a long stripe from your ear to your collarbone before nuzzling his nose just below your ear. “Let me,” he said, digging his nails into your hips as he held you against the wall. “Fuck. I need to taste you.”

“No,” you said, but it was weak, and you were slowly falling apart under him. “No, Osamu.”

“I’ve stopped myself so many times.” He pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck, and you could feel his fangs slip out, so smooth and white. “The blood of a fallen angel, stripped of her grace by the man she loves so dearly. Such a beautiful resolution to this show you’re putting on.”

You were hot from the tips of your toes all the way to your forehead, and though Dazai didn’t bite you, you were too close to giving in, to letting him take from every part of you.

Before he could act on his urges, you gripped his hair, yanked him away from your neck and sank your teeth into his own vein instead.

Dazai let out a moan as his blood flooded into your mouth, his fingers tracing your spine. As you drank, your grip on Dazai slackened, before you were falling, losing yourself in him.

You were so dazed from the blood, you weren’t sure when you moved, when he had gotten you across the room into his lap. He set you on his thigh, his hands guiding your hips along the lean muscles there, dragging your clit along the ridges of his slacks.

“‘samu,” you gasped into his mouth, aching with need and want and everything in between. His pupils had dilated, eyes darkening with mischief as he bumped his leg against you once more, sending a jolt through you that had you tearing at his skin, spilling more blood into your mouth. “I shouldn’t want you.” Your breath caught. “I hate you.”

“I love you.” He said just as quickly, and smiled, petting your hair as you latched onto his vein, guiding your hips so you were riding his thigh. The friction was just enough for you to need more, for your arousal to seep through your panties, the cloth already wet. “Take what you need from me. Everything.”

You tore yourself away from his throat and kissed him, letting him taste his own blood as you pressed one of his hands to your breast.

His eyes flashed, and he cupped the outside of your dress, tearing right down the middle of the garment to expose your chest. Dazai kissed down your clavicle, swirling his tongue around the place where your heart no longer beat, before sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You moaned, throwing your head back while Dazai kissed you, curling his tongue in a practiced manner—he’d always known you from the inside out.

“Such beautiful noises,” he muttered, the words from his lips vibrating against your breast. “It makes me sick to know that another man has heard you like this. That someone can think their devotion to you is even a fraction of everything I’ve ever felt about you.”

Tears sprung to your eyes, bloody and red as Dazai rocked you against his thigh, pressed your aching cunt into his strong muscle. “Your love for me is unhealthy. It’s twisted.”

“I may not love you in the way that you want, but to the very deepest part of your soul, you know that I love you the way you need.” Dazai’s eyes were blown wide with lust, the irises a shade so dark they were nearly black. He looked every bit the true predator that he was, the absolute devil that had been put on this earth to destroy.

You threaded your fingers through his hair as Dazai kissed between your breasts, right below your neck, worshiping every bit of your body. “You tear me to pieces, Osamu.”

“Doesn’t matter. Every last piece of you belongs to me,” he said, bouncing his thigh just enough that you were gasping, tearing his skin as your clit caught on the fabric between you.

You were close, so close to your release, and you’d nearly forgotten how easily Dazai could make a mess of you.

“Your little human pet doesn’t take care of you, does he?” Dazai asked, cupping the soft skin of your breast, squeezing delicately before flicking the nipple with his thumb. “Didn’t even get to put my mouth on that pretty pussy and you’ve already ruined my pants.”

You flushed, hot as you sped the strokes of your hip, your grip so tight that your nails had claimed a home in Dazai’s bicep. The breaths that left your lips were so ragged it was almost shameful, that so little had happened, and you were already his for the taking.

“Osamu,” you said, the word barely a sound at all. “Osamu.”

“I know.” He shifted his head to reveal the bite mark that hadn’t quite healed, the vein that you hadn’t quite finished drinking from. “You need to cum so bad, don’t you, sweetheart? Haven’t been fucked properly since you left me.” Dazai smiled, dropping your head to his neck so you could smell his sweet aroma once more, could indulge in the taste of him. “My beautiful girl sleeps in another man’s bed every night, and he can’t even take care of her.”

You contemplated arguing, telling him that it wasn’t true, that Atsushi had always pleased you, had always made sure that your own pleasure came before his. But it was nothing compared to Dazai, nothing compared to the bright lights that flashed behind your eyes as he touched you, the gates of heaven opening up for two monsters that didn’t deserve something so holy.

“I’m so close,” you said, your teeth just barely breaking his skin. “Please, Osamu.”

“You don’t know how badly I want you right now. How much I missed sinking into you, feeling you so tight around me.” Dazai gripped your own thighs harder, his voice raspy and hoarse. “I promised you I wouldn’t kill him, but, god, I want to.”

You felt the sharp snap of something within you, and you bit down hard on Dazai’s neck, his sweet blood too much when it was mixed with the orgasm that hit you all at once. There was a fog in your mind, nothing there besides his name, his voice, his scent, and you started to wonder why you’d ever wanted anyone but him.

How much you wanted to love him, how badly you craved to indulge in it had, really, never been the question. You’d always been painfully in love with Osamu Dazai, hadn’t you? — and you were certain it had started the moment you met him, decades ago.

Tears fell down your lashes, and Dazai brushed them away, pulled you tight in his arms as you finally unlatch from his skin. All over, you buzzed from the feeling that only his blood could make you feel.

Dazai held you so close, shielding you from something you couldn’t discern, and you felt so lost, so confused, dazed from the man who wasn’t quite yours, but who had never belonged to anyone else.

He kissed your forehead and your cheeks with a gentleness you’d forgotten he was capable of. Without straining a muscle, he carried you across the room, his fingers leaving tiny little marks on your skin. Still, the sadness, the guilt wouldn’t leave you, your eyes burning with perplexity, even through the haze that his blood always induced in you.

“I only have one coffin, my love, and the room isn’t sun-proofed,” Dazai said, leading into the other room to open the coffin he’d made a bed.

“samu, I need to go home.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you yawned, dropping your head on his shoulder. “I can’t stay here with you.”

“There’s no one there.” Dazai’s fingers were gentle as they carded through your hair, scratched at your scalp. “And it’s not safe. The sun is about to rise.”

“I need to leave.”

You drew back to look at his face, surprised by the raw emotion that you saw there. For once, he seemed desperate, wanting to keep you near him, the heart that he held in the palm of his hand, even if you hadn’t realized it until now.

“Please,” he said, stroking your cheek gently. “I want you here.”

The hazy fog still lingered. It was no use trying to rationalize your thoughts. There was no reason to try and wash yourself of your sins, not when you’d already done something that you wouldn’t forgive yourself for after. “This can’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again.”

Dazai climbed into the coffin and held out a hand, glowing in the moonlight, a creature of the night straight from the stories that you’d heard as a child. “We’ll see if that stands true tomorrow.”

tag list: @cerberels @thateldribitch @hauntedsol @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346 @scinclaitnoir @mimimimiminanana @yolkyuyi @xxoolii @zephoncocaine @sookisaurus @angelsdemonsandhumans @kouyoumarryme @avocate-assia-dazai @mort-froggoo @fyodorisbbg @iluv-ace@kemis-world @pe4rl-diver @lacunaanonymoused @wilbur-the-hottie @zbriia

notes: mmmkay so my editing on this is not that great, please let me know if there's any glaring errors HSDHSHDf. there was another scene written, but i felt like this was a better stopping point (and i didn't get the next scene quite finished)

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lucyswinter · 4 months

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ocean blue eyes _•*.🌊

inspired by the song ‘gorgeous’ by taylor swift

pairing: cillian murphy x f!reader

summary: you love to admire your boyfriends pretty blue eyes :)

genre: fluff

warnings: cillains piercing blue eyes /hj

“ocean blue eyes/lookin’ in mine/i feel like i might/sink and drown and die”

♡ ♡ ♡

(a/n): second little blurb is out! im always reminded of cillian when i listen to this song hehe. *not proofread! im also not super happy with the ending of this but that’s alright.* also this is an au where his gorgeous lovely irl wife does not exist!! no disrespect to my queen yvonne or their kids!<3

♡ ♡ ♡

“Hello my love” Cillian hums as he slips his big hands around your waist and pulls you into a hug from behind. He pushes your hair to the other side of your shoulders and proceeds to rest his chin softly in the nape of your neck, but not before placing a tender kiss under your ear. “Sorry I’m home late” he apologizes, his silky Irish accent accentuating every syllable “The shoot went later than scheduled” he mumbled into your skin. You could feel his long eyelashes flutter shut against your skin as he took a deep breath. You both stood quietly for a moment, finding a relieving comfort each other’s natural warmth.

You reach backwards and manage to place the palm of your hand on the back of his head, giving his ashy brown hair a loving scratch.

“It’s alright Cill. I managed to occupy myself.” you tell him, bringing your hand back down to your sides to then wrap them around the arms he had woven around your waist.

“Hmm?” he asks, an amused tone to his voice. “And what did you occupy yourself with, love.”

“Mmm well I baked some cookies, and listened to some music…” you recount quietly.

“Oh? Well what kind of music you were listening to?” He chuckles, trying to move the conversation along.

“Well I had some Taylor Swift-“ you begin to tell him, but you were interrupted by Cillian unraveling himself from around your waist and spinning you by your shoulders to face him. “There we go, pretty girl. I can see you now” he smiles, giving you his full attention by locking his innocent, ocean blue eyes to yours “as you were saying…?” God you could just melt….

“Oh well i- um” you let out a slightly exasperated breath, distracted by his eyes that twinkled under the fluorescent lights of your apartment. “I was listening to um…” you start, unable to quite get the words out. His pupils were almost the color of a ripe blueberry, sweet and tender. How could you think of anything with those…those things staring at you? They were just so pretty, and they matched his complexion perfectly-

“My love, are you alright?” Cillian snaps you out of whatever daydream you had begun.

“Sorry I um” you clear your throat and turn your head slightly ajar to avoid his gaze. You notice the distinct feeling of blood rushing to your cheeks and tinting your soft face an embarrassing pink. “I sort of lost my train of thought there…what was the question again?” You ask him dizzily, avoiding his eyes in the hopes of getting out a complete sentence.

“Lovey, you seem quite distracted is… is something wrong?” he chuckles hesitantly. You continue to blush silently, your face painting itself even pinker at his attention. “Hey. Look at me.” He asks sweetly, lightly taking your head in his hands and turning it back to him again. At this point, eye contact was unavoidable, so you just accepted your fate, and let your brain be fried by the unimaginable shimmer reflecting off of his glassy pupils. He had to know what he was doing to you, looking at you sweetly, praising you, prompting you with gentle touches. It was so evil of him, teasing you. Surely it was illegal to look so perfect…

“Cill I just…your eyes are so…god they’re so…they’re gorgeous” you breathe. Your cheeks were now surely the color of ripe strawberries. “Sorry that sounded weird…”. You cover your cheeks with your palms, the momentary embarrassment making you want to crawl away and hide forever. It isn’t long before he tries to pry your slightly damp hands away from your burning cheeks. “Hey pretty girl, where’d you go.” He laughs. “Look at me” he asks again. This time, you comply, lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

It truly was an out-of-body experience. The longer you looked into his eyes, the more the dashing specs of grey begin to float in the shocking blue waters of the ocean that was his iris. The calm waves splashing back and forth with every small movement, every tilt of his head. You wished you could go to whatever body of water he had trapped in there, though you worry that you might drown if you tried, overwhelmed by the beautiful beaches, freckled with tan sand and thick palm trees.

It was all so difficult to tell him. You felt sort of…creepy being so easily encapsulated by a singular functioning part of him. And such a small one at that (unlike some other parts of him….😉). You knew he thought it was sweet, it just…gosh it drove you crazy. You couldn’t express it all if you tried, and it infuriated you, but you knew that it all came from a place of love. One last look at his eyes, you quickly remember you should probably break the silence that suddenly felt loudly eternal. Your eyelashes brushed your cheeks few times, trying to regain any train of thought.

“I love you, Cillian.” You decide. He could hear about all of this the next time you get lost in his eyes…

“I love you too, angel.” He coos softly.

♡ ♡ ♡

(a/n): tysm for reading my second fic! i will most likely be trying out some smut soon, so bear with me while i work on that 😭 (my bestie aki has written smut in the past so maybe ill ask them for some help lol) anywaysssss, love u, and the song i was inspired by is linked below 🎶 <3

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x f!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #lucywrites<3 #Spotify #gorgeous

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theres-a-body-here · 2 months

Text

Darling~

Miguel O'Hara x Male!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 |

As Miguel slipped in and out of consciousness, he became vaguely aware of being dragged along the hallway by some unknown force. It wasn't until he regained some level of lucidity that he realized it was one of your black tendrils wrapped firmly around his ankle.

All around, the sounds of battle echoed - cries of pain and success melding together, only to become silence as you took him deeper into the structure's internal complex.

You hummed softly to yourself, navigating the maze-like corridors with ease while keeping Miguel close at hand

"V-Venom," Miguel managed to croak out, struggling against the paralyzing effects of Scorpion's poison coursing through his veins.

Continuing the journey deeper into the base, you cast a tender gaze upon Miguel. Your voice held a sickly sweet tone, gently whispering words meant for his ears alone.

"We've missed you so much, amor."

Miguel, however, was barely holding on, fighting back waves of nausea caused by the debilitating toxin coursing through his veins. He opened his mouth to respond, but only managed a pitiful moan in reply.

The sudden ceasing of movement rouses Miguel from his drowsy state just enough to notice you stopping in front of a door marked by a prominent medical symbol.

Everything became hazy again as your slimy, black tendrils went to work on breaking through the keypad lock securing entry.

Then, everything went black for Miguel…

~~~~~~~~~~

A low hum gradually filtered into Miguel's awareness, slowly awakening him from unconsciousness. He groggily blinked open his eyes, greeted by a harsh glare emanating from the sterile white ceiling above him.

Disoriented, he soon discovered he lay atop a cold metallic stretcher, rigid and unforgiving beneath him.

Grunting in discomfort, Miguel rolled his head to the side where a tray of medical supplies rested on wheels. Various syringes and vials occupied its surface, suggesting recent use.

Just as Miguel started to relax, a chillingly serene voice invaded his personal space.

"We were worried you wouldn't wake," you said nonchalantly, studying him with such intensity.

Startled, he whipped his head towards the source, finding you perched comfortably on another bed nearby.

Eyes locked onto yours, Miguel felt his blood run cold at your unsettling calmness – unmistakably predatory in nature.

An oppressive silence filled the space between you both, punctuated only by the relentless buzzing of fluorescent lights above.

Unsettling tranquility hung heavy in the air as you leaned forward expectantly, ready to continue your conversation.

"We hope you were dreami-"

However, before you could finish speaking, Miguel sprang into action. In one swift motion, he flung himself off the stretcher, grabbed its metal railing, and hurled the entire thing directly at you with impressive speed.

You remained entirely unfazed by the incoming projectile as long tendrils burst forth from underneath your clothing, effortlessly stopping the stretcher mere inches from your face.

Each individual strand contorted and flexed in unison, crushing and tearing into the metal structure with minimal effort before casting aside remnants like discarded waste material.

As quickly as it had begun, it ended; an eerie stillness hanging in the air.

Miguel was gone.

"Rude."

There was no anger in your tone - simply mild irritation tinged with disappointment.

~~~~~~~~~~

Miguel sprinted through the winding corridors without looking back, every fiber of his being urging him forward. Every muscle screamed in agony as he rounded corners and vaulted obstacles with newfound determination.

Eventually reaching the expansive hub of activity, he observed countless Spider-People working alongside each other, collectively pushing back against an overwhelming tide of evil forces.

Relief washed over him momentarily, replaced almost instantly by renewed determination - finding Spider-Byte and fixing The Go-Home-Machine was now mission critical.

~~~~~~~~~~

Suspended midair via tendrils looped around his neck, Hobgoblin gasped for breath while desperately thrashing around in random directions. His struggles proved futile against your iron grip; eyes bulging in terror as he looked at your calm expression.

You waved a photograph casually under his nose, tapping at the figure of Miguel. Two other figures were captured in the image, but they had been scratched out with sharpie in an erratic way.

"Have you seen him pass by?" You asked sweetly, casually flicking your wrist in a manner that tightened the hold slightly – eliciting a panicked yelp from the trapped villain.

With subtle adjustments to your grip, you allowed enough leeway for Hobgoblin to speak freely without fear of suffocation taking over completely.

His voice trembled as he stammered out his denial. "No, I swear! Never seen him!" He insisted, frantically shaking his head to emphasize sincerity.

You dismissed Hobgoblin's protests with a simple hum, signaling your skepticism but accepting his statement nonetheless.

You released Hobgoblin abruptly, your tendrils flinging him through the air until he collided with a nearby wall with bone-crunching force. Dust clouds rose as he slumped to the ground lifelessly.

Your attention shifted towards another hostage suspended upside down by your tendrils - a Western-style cowboy hat obscuring most of his face save for a pair of terrified eyes peering back at you warily through his red bandana.

"¿Y tú, arañanita?" you queried gently, pulling him closer while pressing the photograph up against his masked face for emphasis.

"Have you seen him?"

Unease etched across his features as he examined the snapshot showing Miguel's likeness within its borders. Despite attempts to hide his recognition behind a facade of stoicism, the slight twitch of his eyebrow revealed the truth.

He knows

"I don't even know who he is," he lied smoothly, maintaining composure despite the racing rhythm drumming through his body like wildfire.

Yet as his gaze met yours, fear gripped him fully as he saw a knowing look reflected in your irises and a faint smile gracing your lips.

You know

"We're in a hurry, so we'll make this quick," you murmured soothingly.

With those final words uttered, two thick tendrils snaked their way around his skull, muffling any protest that lingered on his tongue thereafter.

Within moments, the helpless cowboy found himself engulfed in complete darkness due to your suffocating grasp covering his face entirely.

His muffled cries grew louder but ultimately faded into the air of the isolated area.

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #male!reader #yandere!reader #venom!reader #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #itsv x reader #male reader #villain!reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #spiderman #spiderman x reader #venom symbiote #Vemon!reader

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pebbleswritessometimes · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could I request a Larissa x reader who’s a teacher? There’s an event out of town for teachers and heads of outcast schools and reader is Larissa’s platonic date (they’re just friends… for now *evil laugh*). A professor from a different school starts flirting with reader, and since the professor is kind of pretty (not as pretty as Larissa of course), reader gets flustered and Larissa gets jealous. Larissa’s in a bad mood for the rest of the night and when they go back to the hotel, reader follows Larissa to her room to check what was wrong and Larissa kisses them out if frustration and tells reader her feelings. Can you also please make the ending steamy but no actual smut. Thank you!

I hope this is okay, Lovey! I’ve had writers block for a little while and this is the first time my brain has been like “WRITEWRITEWRITE” so I’m sorry it’s super long. Like 2800 hundred words or something and it’s definitely not the best but I hope it works. Let me know if I could do better!

Not proof read, love y’all

JEALOUSY JEALOUSY (that songs been stuck in my head)

AN: sorry about the formatting im so confused as to what happened to it, not proof read

Warnings:none

As much as you loved Nevermore, you couldn’t be more excited for a little trip away. Even if the trip itself revolved around the academy and other outcast educators from around the country. The invitation that was sent out had requested that, “Principal Larissa Weems, and one additional educator guest, of the invitees choice, attend the event for the opportunity to socialize and discuss what’s been beneficial for each schools students, communities, and staff as a whole.”

You had just finished your last class of the day, when Larissa had come in. Unbeknownst to you, she had stood outside of your classroom door for a moment, giddy that she’d be spending a bit of time with you, had you decided to attend the event with her. “Good Evening, Miss Y/L/N,” she spoke with a smile, as she made her way closer to your desk. You spun around,”Larissa! How’s it going?” You grinned and leaned on your palms. “Very well, thank you. So, this morning, I received an invitation to an event, just outside the state line,” handing you the letter, she continued. “Of course, I’ll be attending. However, I came here to see if you’d indulge me and be my guest educator? I know it’s a sudden trip, but I believe the insight gained from conversing with the other educators, may be beneficial for Nevermore.” She watched as you read the letter, biting your lip in thought. She stood tall and confident, as she usually does, only now, she was fiddling with her fingers. Maybe her hands were cold. “It’s this weekend? Sure, I don’t see why not,” you smiled and handed the invitation back to her. “Lovely, I look forward to our excursion. Enjoy the rest of your day, Y/N,” she began to make her way out of the class room before you quickly caught her attention once more, “Oh! Larissa! Sorry, do we know roughly how much the expenses for everything will be? I have to make sure I’ve got enough put away,” you looked up at her. She informed you that luckily, all of your expenses were paid.

By the time the event weekend had arrived, you had everything set in place. Miss Thornhill would keep a close eye on your students hall, spending money was set aside, and you entrusted your most responsible student, Bianca, with tending to the needs of your class goldfish, Hush. Situating your suitcase in the trunk of the car, alongside Larissa’s, you slid your sunglasses to the top of your head and sat in the passenger seat.

“I’m hungryyyyy,” you whined and flopped your head to the side. Laughing at your childish display, “I told you it would be a bit of a drive. You didn’t eat beforehand?” She obviously knew the answer. You shook your head and pouted. Larissa reached back behind your seat, and pulled up a small woven bag, filled with snacks. Gasping, you quite literally couldn’t be happier,” OH, you’re the best! You can pick what we snack on first,” you were too busy drooling over the multitude of snacks in your lap, you didn’t notice how her pale cheeks had suddenly been overtaken by a delicate pink.

The remainder of the drive to the hotel was full of snacking on treats, screaming the lyrics to songs, and Larissa adoring how peaceful you seemed as you slept. You even managed to make her a flustered mess when you insisted she wore your sunglasses to “shield those pretty blue eyes,” of hers.

When you two arrived, you were welcomed by both hotel employees and event volunteer staff. Larissa took it upon herself to check in and grab your room keys. “This is faaaancy,” you shimmied your way down the hall, towards your hotel rooms. “Hey Girlies! This whole floor has been reserved for the event tonight, so I’m assuming that’s what you two are here for,” a woman clad in a brown pantsuit, enthusiastically shook your hand. “I’ve got to run, it was lovely to meet you. Oh! Beware, the alarm clocks in this place have a nasty habit of going off at random hours,” she waltzed into the elevator.

“She seems very chipper,” Larissa chuckled as she pointed you to your door which was right next to her. “For sure, she was really purrrdy, too,” you said laughing. You didn’t seem cognizant as to the reaction Larissa had given to your words.

There was about 3 hours before the event started in the convention center of the hotel. Each of you chose to do what you wanted with the extra time, before you had to be ready and at the event. Your hotel room was modern, yet cozy. You had a comfortable bed with a plush blanket laying on top. The mini fridge was stocked with teas, juices, and waters of many brand names. You were thankful that the event coordinators gave you two free drinks. Grabbing a water from the fridge, you set out your outfit for the evening.

You decided to get dressed earlier than needed, you figured if you did it now, less of a chance you’d lose track of time. you wore a black long-sleeve top that accentuated your collar bones, a beige double-layered mesh skirt with black detailing that flowed around at your ankles, and adorned it all with a stunning citrine necklace and earring set.

Very quickly though, you got bored. What better way to entertain yourself, than to go hang out with a friend? You picked up the hotel phone, punched in a room number, as sat waiting for a response. “Hi, thank you for calling Pizza Place, how can I help you?” You held back a giggle, “I- you phoned me? I’m sorry I believe you must’ve gotten the wrong number,” confused as ever, Larissa had prepared to replace the phone on its stand. “No No! Rissa ! It’s me!” Laughing like a dork, you explained you were just messing with her because you were already ready and incredibly bored. “Oh you- haha, very funny,” she sarcastically chuckled, “you can come here and talk while I finish getting ready, if you’d like.” Less than a minute went by before you plunged the phone back down, grabbed your handbag, and knocked on her door. She tittered as she opened the door to your cheeky smile, before she stopped and admired you. “What? Oh, you like?? Look! It’s got pockets- oh! And,” you paused, stepping back and excitedly twirling around, “ISN’T IT MAGICAL?” She nodded in response,” yes, I love it. Certainly a magical outfit to fit such a magical person,” you giggled at her compliment, before you both moved into her room.

Larissa got ready in the restroom as you sat yourself on her bed. Talking through the open door, you went on and on about how much you anticipated speaking to the other teachers. They might have some good intel on how to keep the children engaged, or maybe they even have grand ideas about events to hold at the academy.

“Do you think that- woah…” looking up from your phone, “you look like royalty, Rissa,” in awe, you took in the sight. Swiftly turning her head in an attempt to conceal her blush, she grabbed her purse, “Thank you, Y/N. As do you, dear. Ready to go?” She asked, before you hopped off the bed, straightened out your skirt, and linked your arm with hers. “Absolutely.” If only you had noticed how much she flustered at the physical contact.

The venue was as elegant as you could’ve imagined. Taking in the scene, you both made your way into the crowd of people. Some quickly recognizing Larissa and moving in your direction. “Larissa, my, you haven’t aged a day,” a man with fangs spoke through a lisp. You stuck by her side as she conversed with principals from all over the country. You had never even seen some of these types of outcast in person. With a whisper, you informed Larissa that you’d be headed over to grab a drink from the bar. “Don’t be long, please. I’d much rather have you by my side than to speak with these people alone,” you smiled and assured her it wouldn’t be long. Selecting the finest lush red wine for Larissa, and an airy white for yourself, Larissa had found you back at her side. Thanking you as she swirled the glass, she took your arm into hers and began speaking to the woman who wore a dazzling hat, as to cover her snakes.

“Hey cutie!” It was the woman who spoke to you in the hall when you first arrived, “Goodness, you look ravishing,” looking over at Larissa who had glanced over for a moment,”You both do.” Complimenting her on her pantsuit, she invited you over to speak with her and some of the teachers from surrounding areas. “I’ll be over there, okay Riss?” Unlinking your arm, your allowed your hand to be taken by the other woman. Previously unbothered, Larissa was hastily overtaken by jealousy. The way the woman took your hand, and you allowed her to do it so easily. The way you nearly folded into yourself laughing at her jokes, the way you visibly flustered when she’d compliment you or she’d “accidentally” graze your skin. She felt possessive over you. She loved you, het you hadn’t noticed. Were the feelings not mutual? “God, this woman is practically throwing herself at her,” she thought.

Trying to spilt her attention in two ways caused Larissa to slip up in her disciplined demeanor. “What? I’m sorry, I lost focus for a moment,” she apologized to the man. She couldn’t care less about the statistics received from his school, her mind was completely overtaken by the thought of you. She completely lost it when she spotted that woman’s hand, resting on your lower back, as she introduced you to some of the higher up educators. What made you throw your head back in laughter? How was it that you so easily took such a liking to her? Would you have preferred to be here with her than with Larissa? She couldn’t help all the thoughts racing through as she quickly made her way to the other side of the room.

You often looked around the venue, trying to spot Larissa’s whereabouts. “Where the hell did she go?” You thought. Finally, about 30 minutes before the event was set to wrap up, you caught a glimpse of her leaning against the wall, nursing her glass of wine. “Rissa? Where’ve your been? I’ve been looking for you for almost the entire night,” you chuckled, still concerned. You received nothing but a hum in response as she downed the rest of her glass. “Rissa?”

“Enjoy the rest of the night, Miss Y/N,” she stood and pushed her glass into the center of the table. “Wait, what? Where are you going? We’re here together, silly. Are you okay?” Throwing questions at her, trying to stop her before she got to the doors.

“I-“ cut off by someone calling your name,

“Y/N! Some new friends and I are going to head to the pool after this, wanna come?”

Larissa scoffed and increased her speed, quickly exiting the venue. “Sorry, I’d love to, but I’ve got to go and help a friend with something.”

Racing through the lobby, you spotted Larissa just as the elevator doors closed. “Fuck,” running to the front desk to ask about the location of the stairs. Promptly speeding your way up the stairs, you made it to your floor just as Larissa had exited the elevator. Rolling her eyes, she continued her walk to the room. “Larissa! What’s wrong?” Shouting as you race behind her, “What the hell happened back there?”

“Please, go.” She shoved open her room door and went in. “I-“ using some strength, you pushed the door as she tried to close it,” Rissa, seriously, what’s wrong? Did someone do something? I may be short but rest assured I will take someone down for you,” finally pushing the door all the way open.

Pulling off her coat, she kicked off her heels. Reaching for her hand, she ripped her hand away from your grasp. “Please, talk to me, Riss?”

She let out a dry laugh. Setting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up in an attempt to prevent tears from falling. “You- That woman-“ failing to get her words out she groaned in frustration. “What about her? Did you know her?” Stepping closer, you stood on your tippy toes, grabbed her face and wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall. “Don’t do that!” startled by her sudden change in voice, you moved back.

“You can’t keep doing that!”

“Doing what?! I just-“

“No! You can’t just pretend like you don’t notice me trying to win your favor! Stop treating me as if you share the feelings i do! I keep-“ a sob breaking her from her sentence.

“Larissa, I don’t think I understand I’m sorry-“

She grabbed your cheeks, somehow both roughly and gently, and brought your lips to hers. You could taste the wine on her lips. It took a moment for you to process what was happening, but quickly you returned the effort. It was like everything stopped for a moment. Nothing existed, but her. “Oh,” was all that left your mouth as she pulled way. “Oh..oh god. Y/N, i am so sorry, i am so so sorry, i don’t know why I did that. I let my emotions get the best of me and I apologize if I’ve compromised our-“ she was too stuck in her anxious rambling that she didn’t notice you kicking the stool that sat by the desk. You dragged it with your foot, placing it just in front of her, before you stepped up. You spun her around and pulled her hands away from her face. Startled by the sudden height change, she spoke,

“What are you-“ letting out a hum as she melted.

“The feelings are mutual, Rissa. I promise,” you begrudgingly pulled away from her, not letting go of her face. “Did you just…use a step stool to kiss me..” You both looked down before she broke out into a small fit of laughter. “I.. yeah, yes, I did… and I’d do it again” you chuckled before kissing her once more.

“I’m sorry, i shouldn’t have allowed my feelings for you to ruin your night out,” she pouted. “Don’t be silly. I’m sorry that I hadn’t taken upon your advances. I have a hard time with cues, you know,” you brushed your thumb down her cheek, before she lifted you off the stool and placed you by the nightstand.

“That was quite the unexpected fervid display, wasn’t it,” she chuckled and wrapped her hand around yours. “Yeah, movie worthy, if I do say so myself,” smirking, you leaned up on your arm, “hey, so… you should totally kiss me again,” earning a good laugh from Larissa. “Is that so?” She gazed at your lips, memorizing every feature she could. Your heart began to race as you did the same. You never noticed how the apples of her cheeks were naturally, such a subtle pink. Pecking your lips once, she smirked as you let out a slight whine. “Cute,” she said before she smacked her lips against yours. You were completely enveloped in bliss as she bit your lip and delved her tongue between them. Moving your hand to her side, you traced her form. Gently moving your hand beneath her blouse, you trailed your fingertips to the clasp of her bra. Making swift work of it, she crawled her way on top of you, beginning to pull your top from your skirt, you moaned as her cold hands grazed over a sensitive area of skin. “Rissa you-“ startled by the sudden blaring of the alarm clock, you threw her off of you and both bounced away from the alarm. “HOLY SHIT, WHAT- oH… is that was that lady was talking about?” Both heaving from your previous attempt at “extracurricular activities” and the fear produced from the unexpected alarm clock, you busted out laughing. Making her way to shut off the alarm, Larissa picked up her coat and threw it on the bed. “We should get some rest, we can enjoy the day tomorrow before we have to head back home,” she gave a soft smile. You complied, still having a tint of a blush at the look of a slightly disheveled Larissa. “Goodnight, Rissa,” you made your way to your room next door. A few moments went by, Larissa had gotten settled into bed, before the phone started ringing, “Hello?” “Rissa, I’m bored again,” you admitted as she laughed on the other side of the phone.

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principal larissa weems #principal weems #wednesday weems #larissa x reader #weems #weems x reader #what the fuck is writers block and who said it was okay to have

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munsons-melody · 11 months

Text

eddie's death

summary: you were there with him in the upside down when the demobats attacked, leaving you to witness the death of the love of your life, eddie

pairing: eddie munson x female!henderson!reader

cw: death

recommended song: featured audio clip / lovely by billie eilish & khalid

word count: 1.7k

a/n: my goal was to make someone cry if they read this but it backfired on me bc i sobbed writing this. also i made this audio myself so pls no reposting it to any other site w/o my permission

masterlist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

you never meant for it to happen. you never meant for your boyfriend to get wrapped up in all of this but here you were, trying to defeat some evil creature of an alternate dimension together in hopes to save the world

you had just finished hearing your boyfriend play the famous chords of Master of Puppets.

the song you heard him listen to for hours on end after it came out, the song you would hear him strum on his guitar while you were sitting in his bed admiring how well he played, and unbeknownst to you, the song that was going to serve as his last performance

“most metal ever!” dustin and eddie screamed as they came back into eddie's trailer

"i'm so proud of you!" you squeal, giving him a giant hug and a kiss on the cheek

you were so proud that this plan was going smoothly so far...

oh how you wish you would've known

but the clang of metal above you continued to drum fear into your heart as the demo bats started to rain down onto Eddie's trailer

everyone knew the plan. everyone knew not to stray away from the plan, and god you wished eddie would've too

after helping dustin back through the gate into hawkins, Eddie went to lift you up when he suddenly stopped you and looked you dead in the eye,

"here," he said, handing you his guitar pick necklace, and you looked taken aback

"but why?" you ask and he gave a small smile before your eyebrows started to furrow, realising what he was insinuating

"god, eddie no, nothing will happen to you, i promise" you tried to reason but he didn't want to hear it

“i love you y/n, but please forgive me” he said, before shoving the necklace into your hand and hoisting you up through the air causing you to fall through the gate and land on your back on the mattress

the mattress from his bed where you spent many nights with him, laughing, smiling, kissing...

now you laid on it, watching the him act on a deadly heroic deed in order to save a town that hated him

“eddie!” you scream with confusion. you hoped he’d hear you and follow you back to where it was safe, that the conversation you just had was nothing more than an anxious thought, but that was proven untrue when you looked back up at the gate

he looks at you and dustin one last time before cutting the makeshift rope of sheets

“eddie no!” you scream again as your hand stretched out in a last ditch effort to somehow stop the events of your worst nightmare unfolding

“shit shit shit what is he doing?” dustin yells, and you look at him, pure fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins

"chairs" is all you manage to say before quickly grabbing the one next to the table and setting it up under the gate. the chairs weren't tall enough to reach the gate, so you quickly jump down, running to the side table next to the couch, stacking the chair on top

"once you get up you jump through" you told him. your mind was racing, there was no other thought occurring besides eddie

dustin quickly climbed up and did his best to jump through the gate when you heard a thud and a loud crack

seconds later, dustin was screaming out in agony when it clicked what had happen

"dustin!" you yell, climbing up the same table and chair he just did

you use all your strength left to jump into the gate, flipping down onto the mattress next to a screaming dustin

"oh my god!" you scream, helping dustin sit up

"jesus christ!" he sobbed out, but neither of you focused on his injury for long, both knowing the high stakes of eddie being out there all alone

"can you stand?" you ask him and he shook his head

your arm went under his in attempts to help him stand, not helping much but giving him some form of movement to head out of the trailer with

you heard a crash and scream from outside the trailer, the scream sounded like Eddie and you hoped and prayed there was a god out there to help keep him safe, that it wasn't him screaming, somehow he was fighting off every bat, not attaining any injuries

when you heard the loud noise, dustin and you looked at each other in fear, and you both scrambled to get out of the trailer, when the second you went out the door and caught sight of eddie,your heart dropped as your blood ran cold

you helped dustin run over to eddie, the two of you collapsing next to him

"eddie jesus you need to go a hospital right now" you say, trying to pick him up

"help me!" you scream at dustin, long forgetting about his fresh injury that happened moments before

the two of you try and help him up, but he's struggling to do anything by lie there on the ground

"wait no just give me a minute" he snapped and you laid him gently back onto the ground, lifting his head up onto your lap for support

"i didn't run away this time, right?" he started and you knew what was happening, it all clicked.

your boyfriend was dying in your arms.

"shh, eddie, you're going to be okay i promise" you reason, trying to wipe the blood off of his face

"you're going to be okay and we're going to get you to a doctor and soon you'll be right back to normal" you continued, starting to sob

"and I'm going to graduate right?" he asked with a struggling smile, his breathing getting more choppy as he tried to remain calm

"i think it's my year henderson" he said, reaching a hand up to wipe your tears that seemed to flow like river. even when dying, he always wanted to make sure your tears were dry, one of the many selfless acts of the man you love.

but it didn't stop the tears, if anything just watching him act that way on his deathbed reminded you again why you loved eddie munson

"i think it's finally my year" he spit out, the two of you both struggling to breathe.

"it's your year and you're going to do so many great things" you tell him, gripping his hand tight

"i love you man," he tells dustin, who's just as teary eyed as you

"i love you too eddie" dustin sobs out as he tried to stop the bleeding

"y/n" he croaked out", and you looked at him as best you could with your blurry teared vision

"yes eddie?" you ask in attempts to breathe but nothing seemed to slow down your heart which you believed would burst at any minute

"remember that day in the cafeteria? when you and i first met?" he asked, and you nodded intently. it was the best day of your life. it didn't matter that he ruined your favorite sweater when he accidentally ran into you, spilling your lunch everywhere, because the second you locked eyes, you knew you needed him in your life one way or another

and low and behold that's what occurred through date nights at the hideout watching him and his band play, late night picnics at lovers lake, helping him create campaigns for hellfire even though you were completely lost on everything going on in DnD, the times he snuck into your bedroom window late at night to comfort you after calling him at 3 am from a bad dream, the countless times you rewatched your favorite movie just because he wanted to hear you say all the lines you knew by heart, the early mornings in his trailer watching the sunset and seeing wayne get home from work...

"of course" you say, nodding to him

"that was the most important moment of my life, cause that was the moment i fell in love with the most beautiful girl in the world" he stuttered out, breathing even more shallow than it was before

"oh eddie" you manage to mutter out, your breathing erratic, sobs flying out of your body

you stare at him intently, waiting for him to mutter out another word to give you some sense of hope that he was still with you but when he failed to say another word you felt your entire earth shatter around you

you screamed.

the scream you let out was one of terror and heartbreak, almost like something out of a movie.

your throat was sore, your face was numb, and your vision was completely blocked by the tears

the screams continued. it was the only thing soothing the worst pain you've ever felt in your entire life

and you stayed like that for what seemed like hours, holding onto eddie for dear life, praying you'd feel his chest move or see his eyes blink but nothing happened

all you could hear was tour own screaming. your own sobbing.

the only thing you could feel was the numbness in your body soon taking over.

you didn't even hear when steve, robin, and nancy returned to the trailer to see you sobbing over eddie's body.

you didn't hear the gasp nancy let out, the cries robin had, or the stomping of steve's boots coming up behind you

"y/n we need to leave" steve said with urgency, but you couldn't move. you wouldn't move.

"y/n please we have to go" steve yelled, starting to wrap his arms around you in efforts to pull you away but you didn't move

it took all of steve and robin to pull you off of him, but even when you couldn't feel eddie's body in your arms, it seemed like your whole body shut down

steve immediately picked you up and held you bridal style back into eddie's trailer to where the gate was

but you didn't care

your body was frozen. you would've been fine if they had all gone through the gate and left you there.

you stared at the ceiling, wanting some form of thought to occur other than the one you were trying to process, the one you just lived, the one you'll keep reliving.

nancy and robin took to create another makeshift rope to replace the one eddie had cut and within minutes, you were thrown back into what the others considered the 'normal world '

but to you, it was purgatory.

fin.

#eddie munson #stranger things #dustin henderson #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie x fem!reader #eddie blurb #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #munsons-melody

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 10 months

Text

Just a cute little thing about Robin, Steve, and Eddie getting high and having a nice time. And hints at future Steddie. 💛 The conversation in this is nearly verbatim a conversation that me and @friendly-jester had not an hour or so ago, and they suggested we sounded like Robin and Eddie getting high.. and i had to agree... So ... take that as you will 🤣 ( thanks for the inspiration love!!! 💚)

"They just make me uncomfortable." Eddie says, taking a long drag from the blunt pinched between his fingers before passing it back to Robin.

"Oh I get that. For sure." She nods sagely, hair shaking, before taking a long drag herself. She passes it to Steve, his eyes are foggy, but he takes it, takes a drag, passes it back to Eddie and let's his head fall back against the couch.

"Did you know they lure people into swamps and drown them?" Eddie supplies, stretching his legs out in front of him on the floor. They make a wide V, one leg resting between Robin's own, spread just the same.

"Kangaroos!?" Robin gasps, staring at Eddie. Blinking rapidly.

"Yes!!" Eddie nods aggressive, his hair shaking wildly.

"Demons." Robin says, stoic.

"I always knew it." She shakes her head, takes another drag, tries to hand it to Steve, he doesn't respond, his eyes are squinted, he's staring at the wall. She bumps his knee with her hand, he eventually waves her away, so she passes it back to Eddie.

"They pretend to be stuck and when people go to help them. They shove them underwater! They are evil beings!" Eddie continues, takes the last drag and stubs the tiny end out in the ashtray, next to their last one.

"I bet it's a defense mechanism." Robin says, blinking rapidly again, her head resting on Steve's knee before rolling to rest against the couch.

"Drowning people!?" Eddie says, incredulous.

"I bet it is!!" Robin says, lifting her head to look at him. Eyes bloodshot and darting around the room before coming back to Eddie again and again.

"Jesus christ. They're evil. Creepy, little handed, fucks." Eddie breathes, shaking his head. He scratches at his head for a second.

"I do like Wallabies though. I think that's what they are. Like, tiny Kangaroos that just stay small." Eddie says, making a little motion with his hands, indicating how they are in fact small. His hand hovering a few feet off the ground. Robin's head is nodding slowly, like she'd started nodding to agree but then just... kept nodding.

"Yes! The small Kangaroos that animated ones are based off of! Those are Wallabies... I think. Not 100% sure on that though." She shakes her head, looks up at Steve and smiles, he's staring at the wall, before looking back to Eddie, a sad look on her face. He frowns to match her as she says,

"I was so heartbroken when I found out how terrifying actual Kangaroos are." Her voice is quiet. Eddie bumps his leg into hers and then reaches over, curls his hand around her ankle in comfort.

"They're horrific. Like..." he takes a deep breathe, gathering his thoughts as they seem to float away from him.

"Like, solid muscle bouncing around. With a weapon at the back and the bottom. AND THEY DROWN PEOPLE WITH THEIR TINY..." his yell, that has made all three of them flinch, trails off, his thoughts stalling.

"Their... um... shit. What are they?" He raises his hands, Robin looks at him, eyes wide, and he makes a grabbing motion with both hands.

"Boobs!" She shouts, pointing at him and snapping her fingers. Steve snorts but doesn't take his eyes off the wall, his hand reaching out toward it now.

"Hehe! Wait what? No! No! This!" And shakes one hand in the air, using the other to point at it.

"Oh! Oh! HANDS!" Her own hands splayed wide in front of her, flailing in excitement.

"HANDS!" Eddie yells back, pounding his hand against the carpet between his legs, nodding as he points at Robin.

"HANDS! THEY HAVE EVIL TINY HANDS FOR THEIR EVIL DEEDS!" Eddie shouts. Robin nodding enthusiastically across from him, patting at his knee.

"They're TERRIBLE. JUST THE WORST!!!" She cries, falling back against the couch dramatically, the motion doesn't even draw Steve's attention. He's sitting very still on the couch, his finger moving over and over a small scratch in the paint on the wall of the trailer.

"Steve." Eddie says. No response. Robin cranes her neck and looks up at him.

"Steve." Nothing.

"Steve." Eddie narrows his eyes.

"Steve." Robin looks to Eddie and smirks.

"Steve Steve Steve Steve Steve!" Both of them calling his name over and over seems to do the trick. He drops his hand slowly and lets his head fall to the side so he can see them both.

"Mmm? What?" The little grumpy groan makes Eddie smile, his chest feeling warm and full.

"What are your opinions on Kangaroos?" Eddie asks, leaning foward impossibly far, his elbows hitting the carpet as he rests his chin in his hand, looking up at Steve. Steve smiles at him for a moment, slow, and sweet, and hazy. Then a frown crawls onto his face and he moves his eyes to Robin, then back to Eddie.

"What... what the fucks a Kangaroo?" He breathes, sounding confused and slightly concerned. Eddie's eyes widen, he looks at Robin, her eyes are wide open as well, and when they meet Eddie's it's all over.

Robin laughs until she snorts, and then just laughs harder. Eddie's laughs have gone silent, his face red as he slaps his hand against the carpet. Steve's on the couch, a small, satisfied smile on his face.

His friends are here. Laughing. Because of something funny he said. He doesn't remember what he said. Or what they'd been talking about. But he watches Robin and Eddie laugh and laugh and feels lighter than he has in years.

He slides down until his butt hits the floor, both of them reaching for him as they laugh, like they're trying to pull him into the laughter too. Eddie's hand is warm on his knee, his eyes bright as he smiles at Steve, laughter echoing through the trailer, beckoning Steve to laugh with him.

Steve grabs Eddie's hand, tangles their fingers, almost says something too much for the moment, but Robin snorts again and sets Eddie off, his eyes linger on Steve for the briefest moment before Steve lets himself be pulled in.

He lets laughter bubble up in his chest and fall past his lips as Robin and Eddie cling to him, and he clings to them, and their joy fills Eddie's trailer on a random Saturday night.

#eddie and robin #eddie munson #robin buckley #eddie and steve #steve and robin #steddie #pre steddie #fluff #is this a crack fic? i dont think so #just the kids being allowed to be silly #steve gets high and gets quiet yall #my writing #mine #fates endless inkwell #steddie blurb #my fic

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cyren-myadd · 5 months

Note

Do you have a chapter snippet??

Hey guys, the last two weeks have been really busy for me, so chapter 19 is going to be late. Thank you for your patience and in the mean time, here's a snippet!

Wainfleet hopped off his bed and bounced over to Spider with a big stupid grin on his face. For a moment, Quaritch looked like he was going to say no, but then he heaved a sigh and waved for them to leave. Spider followed Wainfleet out of the room and down the hall, following an arrow that pointed them in the direction of the restroom.

“Maverick’s on the way to making a full recovery, by the way.” Wainfleet said cheerily.

Spider started walking towards the bathroom faster. The last thing he wanted was to put up with small talk from Mr. Clean’s evil twin. “Right… um, who’s Maverick again?”

Wainfleet looked slightly offended. “My dog. You hurt him the night you tried to run away, remember?”

“Oh,” Spider cringed at the memory of snapping jaws and razor sharp fangs. Privately, he wished the dog wasn’t going to make a full recovery. “Look, man, I’m really sorry, I—”

“Don’t look so nervous, kid, I ain’t mad at ya!” Chuckled Wainfleet as he patted him on the back. His big, thick fingers probed uncomfortably over his half-healed lashes. “Besides, you’ve already paid your dues for it, haven’t you?”

Spider shrugged his hand off and doubled his pace towards the bathroom. Why did the damn thing have to be so far away? “Yeah, I guess I have.”

If Wainfleet picked up on the signals that he didn’t want to talk, he must’ve ignored them, because he easily caught up with Spider and continued, “all water under the bridge! By the way, you cost me a lot of money when you ran off. I really believed you when you said you weren’t gonna make a run for it. We had a hell of a time placing bets on you! Ha!”

“Well, I’m glad somebody’s having fun here.” Spider hissed between his clenched teeth.

Wainfleet stopped in his tracks as it finally seemed to dawn on him that Spider wasn’t enjoying their conversation. “Wait, c’mon, kid, I didn’t mean it like that.”

At long last, Spider finally reached the bathroom. He grabbed the door handle, but before he could yank it open and escape Wainfleet’s presence, a big, pale hand slammed it shut. Spider yanked on the door handle, but it was in vain. Wainfleet was just too strong.

“Dude, I’m gonna shit my pants. Let me go already.”

“Just wait a minute, okay?” Wainfleet pleaded.

Spider heaved a long, dramatic sigh before releasing the door handle and turning to face him.

“Look, Miles, I know things have been… hard for you here.”

Spider scoffed.

“But I promise, this really is for the best. I know your dad was pretty harsh on you the other night, but he only does it because he’s scared for you. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but…” Wainfleet glanced around to check if anyone was listening and lowered his voice. “Ardmore didn’t really want him to get you back, especially after the whole fiasco with the court case and him going to prison. Your dad is working really hard to convince her that you’ll be an asset to the RDA, and every time you run off or disobey an order, it gets harder and harder for him to do that.”

“And what happens if he can’t convince her?”

Wainfleet grimaced and poked a finger into Spider’s chest just like Quaritch had done earlier. “Your dad wasn’t just saying all that to be mean. He really is scared for you, so if you don’t listen to him, he has to punish you to keep you in line. Trust me, it hurts him just as much as it hurts you, but he doesn’t have a choice. He’d rather do that to you than let you run wild and end up with the labcoats. So, please, don’t give him a reason to punish you, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t try to run off again.” Spider nodded in agreement while internally his head was reeling with the confirmation that he actually could get dissected or something. As far as he was concerned, Wainfleet had only convinced him even more that he needed to escape.

#spider socorro #miles quaritch #lyle wainfleet #avatar the way of traumatizing spider #avatar spider #avatar quaritch #avatar fanfiction #ao3

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annie-creates · 1 year

Text

My Leonora

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader

Genre: angst

Words: 1800

Note: I'm warning you now somebody dies here. This can be taken as a continuation of To meet you, even tho that fic is doing the worst out of all my stories and I probably wouldn't do another part normally, I wanna make even the few people who liked it happy.

Love. A concept of quite the importance in the school for good. Everyone keeps referring to it as this sacred thing that’s gonna ensure your happily ever after. Yet you didn’t believe this true love was something essential to reaching your happy ending. Not when your happy ending was a never. The dean of the school for evil to be exact. It started as an innocent crush the day you came into the school. Everyone has a teacher crush every once in a while, right? But yours didn’t evaporate in a few weeks or months, no. It grew into something more. Fondness and eventually love.

You spent your school years slowly but steadily falling in love with Lady Lesso, knowing she hardly even knows your name and has no interest in you. But just staying around her the few occasions you got here and there was enough. Since apparently this fairytale story isn’t intended for you, you’ll be happy with whatever you can get. That’s what you thought until you graduated and the storian chose you for your own adventure. You couldn’t imagine your future anywhere but here, in the school, by her side.

Your last night was blessed with dreams of the lady, something that happened on regular basis. Yet tonight it wasn’t a nice dream, it was a nightmare. You saw the love of your life in the hands of a man, she was wildly in love, and you watched him literally put a dagger in her back. You woke up in sweat and scared. You hoped this dream doesn’t come true, just like all the nice ones you had about her. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it for too long, your journey was starting today. You packed a small backpack and were send to an unknown place to begin your fairytale, taking last look and the two deans hoping to remember this picture forever. You didn’t know where the road will take you now.

You came back right before your two year departure anniversary. You’ve seen a lot in the world, lived through and experienced a lot. If you were still a young lady when you left, you were definitely a grow woman now. Sophisticated, skilled and sober-minded. Professor Dovey welcomed you back with opened arms, offering you to stay for a bit until you figure out what you want to do next with your life. You didn’t have a prince, nor a kingdom to run, you just… were. Not even your own story made you fall in eternal love with a man. Your life made you feel like you never will. Maybe you just weren’t destined to love someone.

The moment the dean of evil stepped into the dining hall however, that’s when you knew you already loved. You were in love with this woman for years now, and even years apart didn’t numb your feelings one bit. She sat at the table picking up a light conversation with her colleagues basically ignoring you until Dovey officially introduced you and she was forced to acknowledge you. She didn’t seem interest, more of mad that once again evil didn’t win. But, she looked at you, and that was more that she ever gave you before, so you weren’t gonna give up. No matter how long it takes.

“I brought you a coffee, noticed you drank it every morning black, without cream.” Was the first thing you said when she let you into her office. She apparently skipped breakfast and you wanted to do something nice for her. Or maybe force her to stop ignoring you since you’ve been back in the school for over a week now.

“Thanks.” Her acknowledgement was small but an acknowledgement none the less. You just nodded and left her to finish her work not wanting to intrude where you weren’t exactly welcomed.

Next time you gave her a little gift wrapped in midnight blue paper. It was a bottle of black nail polish, since you noticed she’s been experimenting with different shades of greys and silvers lately. She didn’t say anything since you didn’t physically hand it over but you saw her wearing it a week later.

Then you gave her a bubble bath with the scent of santal wood, because that was the perfume she wore every day you were blessed with being in her presence. It was just little things, you didn’t want to overwhelm her and you still didn’t know if she’d ever hold any interest in you. Maybe you were just hoping to win her over and have a somewhat neutral relationship now that Dovey offered you to become a teacher here.

This was going on for weeks, Anemone and Dovey slowly picking up on your fanciness for the dean. How could they not, they were very observant. They didn’t necessarily understand it but were supportive none the less. Lesso didn’t completely ignore you anymore, you’d even dare to say she became somewhat friendly with you. She actually talked to you during breakfast and lunch, asked your opinion on some of the subjects you were both teaching and even offered you to grade papers together.

“Do you wanna go out?” she blurted out one evening finishing her bitter tea grading the last couple of tests.

“Sorry?” you raised your head from your own stack of papers pondering if you just heard her wrong.

“Like to a date, with me. I undestand if you don’t.” she shrugged her shoulders acting all nonchalant about it.

“Nono, I, I’d really like to go out with you. On a date.” You clarified, a huge smile spreading over your face.

“Okay.” Was all she said and got back to her work, while you couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the night.

And so you went on a date. You brought her a bouquet of black dahlias she really appreciated. Even when she pretended she didn’t really put much care in, you saw the effort in her spotless suit and perfectly matching tie. You talked for hours about your life, what you experienced in your story, or just stuff you both liked. It took her quite the time to open up to you, but once she realized it’s safe to do so, she almost didn’t shut up. She had a lot to say as someone who generally doesn’t talk a lot. And you went to many dates after, each one even more enchanting than those before.

“He’s here.” Dovey blurted out trying to catch her breath from running all to the way to the staff room you were sitting in with Anemone.

“Who is?” you put your book aside slightly panicked by her distraught state. It didn’t happen every day something threw the dean of good off.

“Rafal.” She said it like a curse. Anemone gasped out and run into action.

“Who’s that?” you still didn’t really understand what’s going on and why this Rafal is such a big deal.

“He’s the soul of evilness, here to destroy our world with everyone in it.” Anemone began to explain as you all got on your way.

That’s how you found yourself on the mission to defuse the soul of wickedness itself with every means you had. Your spell training suddenly came in handy. Running through the school it took a few minutes before you found him, in the presence of no one other than your girlfriend. They seemed to be having a heated discussion on a topic you didn’t hear. His face seemed somewhat familiar to you, but you couldn’t place it.

“If you are finished now, it’s time to get back to your dark hole you crawled from.” Dovey interrupted them angrily. They both turned to you, seeing you three ready to fight with every means necessary.

“Oh you won’t need that… you wouldn’t want your lovely girl here to get hurt now, would you?” with those words Rafal grabbed Lesso with a knife to her throat. That’s when you saw it, it wasn’t a knife, more like a dagger. A dagger you’ve seen before, this was the man from your nightmares.

“NO!” you screamed, giving away your weakness for her.

“Oh, my my, does our little evil offspring have an admirer now?” his laugh made your breath hitch. “No wonder you can’t be even evil enough, when you have a foolish princesses falling in love with you.” Lesso’s eyes widened, never really hearing those words from yourself directly.

“Just let her go!” you tried to order, but all you got was another wicked laugh.

“You can’t love evil, little one. Evil doesn’t love. Evil doesn’t cooperate. And evil most definitely doesn’t share.” Rafal exclaimed and pricked the dagger in Lesso’s back, twisting it in for good measure. “Until next time.” he disappeared with an evil smile on his face.

“No no no no no.” you ran to your girlfriend to catch her before she fell to the ground, already feeling weak. You cradled her in your hands, trying to do anything to save her. “It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. Come on. Lesso. You’ll be fine…” you weren’t sure if you’re trying to convince her or yourself at this point.

“It’s alright.” Your lover exclaimed with difficulty caressing your cheek. “I love you too.” She smiled and you’d swear you didn’t se more sweet and genuine smile in your life.

“I love you, I’m so sorry. I love you so much.” You promised squeezing her in your lap.

“The name is Leonora.” She whispered.

“What?” you didn’t understand what she’s telling you, barely keeping up with your own tears falling.

“My name… is Leonora.” Lesso specified and smiled at you before closing her eyes.

“Leonora…” you smiled a little but the joy was short lived. “No. No! Leo, no!” you cried and screamed so loud the whole castle must have heard you.

Why were you given this love, all those years of loving her, when it was ripped out of your arms the moment you reached the happiness with her? What twisted fate destined you to lose your lover so soon? What wicked game was the world playing? Anemone and Dovey watched you with nothing but teary eyes of their own. You deserved better than this. You deserved your happy ending, you earned your happily ever after with your true love.

All your thoughts were the same questions over and over. Why me? Why us? Why did you have to take her from me so soon? What did I do to deserve this? Why is the whole world against me? When can I see my girl again? How long do I have to wait? Is she gonna do fine in heaven? I swear I’m never going to love anyone again. Not like I loved you, my true love. My Leonora.

#lady lesso x reader #lady lesso #lady lesso angst #lady leonora lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso #the school for good and evil #school for good and evil #sge #tsfgae #fanfiction #fanfic

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misscammiedawn · 20 days

Text

I want to talk a little about Suicidality. More importantly, how to talk to those experiencing it.

This is a heavy topic, though. It's under a readmore.

Massive content warning for suicide discussion.

I am of the firm belief that we need to talk about this. Not talk around it or signal how bad it is as this will not enable people the space to discuss without judgment. It's a tough topic. I think about it ALL THE TIME and never talk about it. It just keeps the thoughts in my head. I want to speak. I don't need to be heard. I just want to speak.

When I get really bad and start relapsing I spiral hard. Sometimes that spiral will push me away from loved ones, sometimes it'll trigger a bout of picking at emotional wounds that have scabbed over but more often than not I seek sources of comfort that do not require other humans.

Sometimes I talk to therapy chatbots so I can spew my emotions out at someone who will not be burdened or remember it-- this is for when I know it's a temporary storm and I need present relief without permanent consequence.

Sometimes I look online for messages that can ground me. Those "reasons not to die" inspirational videos and I typically close them the moment they make broad and reaching assumptions.

"You're loved"

"You have so much to offer"

"You're important"

Because they do so much harm to me. I don't know if they do good things for other people but I am fully cognizant of the fact that these people are shooting empty platitudes into the air. Which means when people who do know me say these things, I cannot fully trust that they are not just saying the words that society have conditioned them to say to people in pain.

When someone says these lines are they offering perspective that my mentally ill irrationality has left me blind to or is it telling me what they think I want to hear?

Every time a perfect stranger who has never known my life or my heart tells me these things it makes those words and sentiments weaker.

I can't speak to any experience other than my own. But I am a contradiction. I've passively desired death continually since I was a teenager. I have lived more years with the desire to end myself than I have with the desire to live. Over half my life since a turning point that opened a door in me that can never be closed.

I'm not going anywhere. The Event also instilled in me a lifelong commitment that I will never do to others what was done to me. I refuse.

But it gives me a perspective that makes the struggle all the more painful to me.

I desire and detest the final exit.

So the guilt trip doesn't work either. I know how it makes people feel. I've lived that. The thought of doing it to another person makes me... feel like shit. Which just feeds that evil dragon that whispers dark secrets in my ear. The more I am guilted, the worse I feel. The worse I feel, the weaker my resolve becomes.

So if you cannot positively or negatively influence a person with the potential of regrets and appeals to emotion. What can you do?

The obvious answer is listen.

That does help.

But I'd be a hypocrite if I took my worst impulse and fed it into a ELIZA chatbot and preached for other people to listen. Clearly I am denying those in my life the opportunity to do that for me, half because I know the pain of hearing someone talk about those topics and half because, as mentioned, I do not wish for permanent consequences to temporary emotions.

The other step is that I am desperate for someone to condone it.

If I could go back and have an honest to god conversation about things, with the people who instilled this hatred of suicide into me. I don't think I'd try to change things. I'd just want to hear why, understand it and say "I really wish you wouldn't, but I understand why you want to."

PhilosophyTube's episode on the topic has been sitting rent free in my head for years.

It's the simplist and most powerful phrase in the english language, I think: “I understand how you feel.” I've been up there. I've flown that mission. I fly it a hell of a lot. And you're not necessarily bad or broken inside just because they're sending you up. So you fly safe, Cosmonauts. - Abigail Thorn

I don't want to kill myself. I don't want anyone to kill themselves. But all of the talk, all of the activism, all of the push for suicide prevention. It focuses on stopping a person with a desperate desire to escape their circumstances, their pain, their existence and it asks them to not act on those desires.

There's no version of events where the desire itself is treated. Even when a person has no drive to follow-through, the desire doesn't truly go away. Decades of therapy, better life conditions and reasons to live haven't made it go away for me.

At my worst, I research it. Run the numbers. Live the fantasy. The information I got from ethical exit resources lives with me. I know exactly what to do, what to buy from Wal-Mart. On one hand I feel empowered by the fact that I have control in that I can do it and I choose not to. Some days that gives me comfort. Other days I curse 2020 Camden for researching that forbidden knowledge and burdening us with it here in the present.

A hard thing I had to do recently in trauma therapy was write down the full list of actions I'd take and send it to people I love so they could recognize the steps if I started to take them. That flooded us with shame. Also inspired some of the need to talk about it.

But still, I don't really regret poisoning myself with the knowledge of how to do it, even if it most certainly is a detriment to me.

Because "I understand" is just a sentence. "I've been there" is just a sentiment.

What gets me through. What helps me survive?

It's feeling like I have a choice and that when I'm hurting and desiring to scratch that itch, I can ask myself "do you want to go to Wal-Mart?" knowing full well I'll get that sharp and angry "NO!" in reply.

Because there's something else I learned in that "forbidden research".

One of the doctors who was involved in activism for Canada's MAiD laws (and was imprisoned for helping people attain The Final Exit) was on a podcast talking about their view on euthanasia and when they feel it is inhumane to let someone live. They spoke about the cruelty of keeping someone in suffering tethered to life for the comfort of the surviving family and noted that guilt was not a good motivator and would only cause further knee-jerk reactions and defensive behaviors.

So he told a good story about someone who he helped.

"Can you imagine having one more happy memory?"

The person at the end of their life spoke about the pain they were in, the way their mind was giving in on them, the sad faces surrounding them all of the time and the fact that all the memories of vibrance and life were being replaced by this slow downward spiral as the months dragged on. There were joys of seeing loved ones and there were comforts and conversations and then... dying became routine. Expected and inevitable and there were no more fresh and beautiful experiences to be found in the process of dying. Only pain.

When the patient knew without a doubt that they would never have another happy memory to enjoy before the end they said they were ready to go and no one around them could argue.

It was a bittersweet story but it stuck with me.

2001 was the first time we acted self-destructively. We have had spirals, even since hearing that story in 2020 (one even started us writing this post), but I considered hearing it while on the edge of the knife to be the moment I reaffirmed the knowledge I'd never do the deed.

2001-2020 our motivation was in pain. In knowing what it's like to get that call from the hospital. To have to be buzzed in to the mental ward to visit the shame-filled loved one who needs all of your love and understanding and you silently ask yourself "is it selfish for me to feel hurt? Who will even comfort me in this time?" to take responsibility and be strong when everything is falling apart...

I can't. I won't. Never. Never EVER.

That kept us safe for a long time. But it made the storms so hard to weather and it made that thought at the back of our head insist "we'll do it eventually"

In 2020, when we knew we were an hour's shopping trip away from the edge, that story gave us something to dream. "Hey, idiot, we're working so hard to transition. Why would we give up now?" and, yes, the process of transitioning damned near killed us... but it wouldn't always be hating ourselves and feeling like the journey was impossible. We could climb Mount Celeste. Just give it a year. A month. Another day.

Can you still imagine us happy?

If you can, then live another day. Just carry on. As long as you can imagine a world where you have one more happy memory it's worth the pain of today.

I don't know if this will strike everyone the same way it did me. But it helped. So much. In a world where all the creature comforts like concerts and cinemas were stripped and we spent weeks and weeks alone indoors going quietly crazy and growing terrified of a hostile world that was about to see an attempted insurrection in the near future, it was so easy to be consumed by darkness and give in completely...

And I think we've done okay. Fine enough. I doubt life will ever live up to what was hoped or imagined. Things will always be a struggle. Things will always be tense and hard. But there will always be moments. New happy memories. I owe the me of yesterday the smiles of today and I owe the me of tomorrow the ability to experience those smiles.

I don't need to be told I am loved, I am valuable, I am all the things that my illness refuses to let me believe.

I just need to know that I have experienced happiness in the past and it's not impossible for me to experience it again.

That'll keep me going.

#camden posting #watch me post my trauma in public #personal #cw: suicide #bpd

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masn-mount · 2 years

Note

I know you have a lot of requests but may I suggest an angsty idea ? like mason’s gf who overheard him saying to his friends that she’s clingy and he can’t enjoy himself when she’s around ? only if it does inspire you, thank you for reading me !

thank you for your request anon! there's been a lot of fluff so here's something different! I hope you guys like it, please let me know what you think! xx

warnings: angst, not proofread

words: 2,2k

small word, big impact

gif; movnt

You were sitting in the middle of the bed folding some newly washed clothes when you heard the front door open and quickly shut right after. You waited a few seconds, expecting to hear a call for your name but when it didn’t come you knew Mason hadn’t taken a notice to your shoes at the front door. You had told him you would come over a lot later so it didn’t surprise you.

You continued with your task at hand and once you were done you put away Mason’s clothes and some of your own pieces that you always kept around at his house before deciding to join Mason downstairs. You could hear another voice once you made it halfway down the stairs and when you reached the bottom you could tell he was on the phone so you stopped in the hallway, not wanting to disturb him while he was on the phone. You weren’t sure who Mason was talking to but the words that left their mouth made you frown. “I guess y/n is stopping you from another night out?” You felt a little taken back since you had never stopped Mason from going out to see his friends. You were quite the opposite, always telling him to go out and have fun and if he really didn’t feel like it you would encourage him to invite his friends over instead.

“Yeah, she’s coming over later.” You felt a little hurt over the fact that Mason didn’t deny what his friend said but instead agreed with them.

“So, like always?” The laugh following the question sounded evil and when Mason said nothing but hum you felt like you were close to crying. You didn’t know any of his friends felt like that about you, they had always been nice to you ever since you met them, often telling you that they were happy Mason had met you but now you were doubting that any of that was true.

You were doubting Mason too.

Walking out of the house was impossible without Mason seeing you so you were debating on just turning back around and walking up the stairs because you knew you shouldn’t be listening to this conversation and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to hear more of it.

“She’s my girlfriend, you know.” The tone Mason spoke in sounded more playful than serious. It sounded like he was just saying it for the sake of remind his friend and maybe even himself and not because he wanted the conversation to end.

Mason’s friend countered his statement without a second beat, “that’s so fucking boring. Ever since you met y/n and settled down or whatever you’ve become so boring. What happened to the Mason we all knew and loved who would go out and leave with a different girl every night?” You were starting to feel sick and at that point you were fully expecting Mason to stick up for you, to tell his friend to stop being stupid and to respect his relationship but instead he stayed quite for a few seconds before laughing.

“It’s fine.”

“Come on Mason.”

"It's nothing. It's fine. Y/n likes to be around which I've never minded before but now...I don't know mate. I feel like I can't breathe sometimes. She's always here and it feels like we live together a lot of the time which we obviously don't." You felt embarrassed because Mason had never mentioned any of that to you before. He would always tell you that he wanted you around as much as possible, that he loved how you kept some of your things around his place to make it feel like your own home too. He always told you he wanted you to spend the nights with him and the morning too and if you didn't have school or work he wanted to come home to you after training. "I know she's just trying to be supportive because the season has been mad and anything but normal but she's kinda..." You felt like you were holding your breath in as you waited for him to finish his sentence.

“Clingy?”

"Yeah." By now you were sitting on the floor, feeling a little defeated as you stared down at your lap. Your eyes were burning and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to prevent any noise from giving you away.

The short confirmation from Mason hurt you more than you could ever imagine it would.

You felt like you had heard enough so you got up from the floor and carefully made your way back up the stairs and to Mason's bedroom. You were debating on just walking past the first door and go to the guestroom instead but you didn't.

You got in bed right away and you're not sure how long you laid there but all that was running through your mind was calling your friend to tell her to come and pick you up but you couldn't just walk out like nothing happened so you would wait until Mason would hopefully leave. It was a little funny, you hoping Mason would leave his own house as soon as possible when normally all you ever wanted was for him to hurry home so you could spend the rest of your day together.

After another thirty minutes or so your thoughts were interupted by the sound of footsteps making their way up the stairs and when the door cracked open you shut your eyes even if your back was already turned towards the door and Mason. You tried to stay as still as possible even if it was proving to be difficult because you were still crying. "Y/n?" You felt your heart ache at the sound of his voice and you had to bite down on your lip so you wouldn't let out a sob.

The room stayed quite for a few seconds but you knew Mason hadn't left the room and your confirmation came when the bed dipped behind you before an arm wrapped itself around you. "I could do with a nap." You almost felt stupid for wanting nothing more than to just forget about what you had heard downstairs and let him hold you but you couldn't.

You weren’t stupid and he couldn’t think you were.

When Mason pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck you let out a shaky sob, unable to hold your emotions in anymore. "Y/n?" You just shake your head, worried that your voice would let you down if you tried talking. "Hey, hey. Did something happen?" When you didn't say anything Mason tried to pull you towards himself but when you didn't budge he moved over your body and laid down before you so he could look at you. "Look at me, babe." You did but it only made you want to cry harder. "Are you okay?" You shake your head. "Are you sick?" You shake your head again. "Can you tell me what's wrong? you're worrying me."

"I feel stupid." You take a deep breath. "I was hoping you would leave so I could leave after without having to see you." Your words are slightly slurred due to your crying that you're still unable to stop even if you're trying and repeatedly wiping at your cheeks.

Mason looked genuinely confused at first before his eyes slightly budge open. It confirms to you that he knows exactly what you’re on about. “I can’t believe you, Mason.” You felt like a mother scolding her child for eating the cookied they weren’t meant to touch.

“Y/n. I don’t know what you think you’ve hear-”

“I heard enough.” You gave him a sad smile.

Mason shuts his eyes tightly, feeling beyond stupid.

When he walked into his room and saw you he was happy and when he noticed you crying he thought it was over a movie you had been watching or a sad Tiktok you had seen but it didn't take long for him to realise that you were upset over what he had been stupid enough to say.

“Baby, I was just being stupid. Okay? I don’t know what the fuck the conversation was even about. I’m just tired.”

“Being tired can’t always be your excuse for everything.” You knew he was tired and you didn’t blame him but that had nothing to do with what he had said. “You talked about me like I don’t even mean anything to you behind my back, Mason.”

“Don’t say that, you know how much you mean to me.” You didn’t stop him when his hands moved up to wipe your tears away but it was to no use because fresh ones fell right after. “I’m sorry.” You sit up against the headboard and Mason does the same right after. “I’m a fucking dickhead.”

“Did you mean it?” Asking was painful but the silence following the question was even worse. “It’s fine if you did.”

“It’s not.”

“So you did mean it.”

“No, I didn’t.” You turned your head so you could look at him, challenging him to just tell you the truth. “I don’t. I don’t think you’re clingy. I think, I don’t know.”

“I’ve never felt like I had to ever be someone else around you or that I needed to worry about how I ever acted until today.”

“You still don’t.”

“That’s not true and you know that.”

“I’m sorry for what I said.”

"It's not just what you said, Mason. It's also what you heard being said about me and yet you didn't once stick up for me. Your friend claimed I don't let you go out and you agreed but when have I ever stopped you?" Mason was just sitting shaking his head next to you because he knew he had fucked up. "How do you think it felt for me to hear your friend talk about how they preferred when you'd fuck around with different girls? is that how you and they saw me at first? as just someone to play with until you got bored? Is that what I am because if so I've been around way too long for it."

“God, no. You have never been that.”

“I just don’t get it because if one of my friends made you sound like a problem I would always defend you. I would do that always because I love you and your feelings matter to me a lot more than anything else.” You had to take a deep breath because you felt like your heart was beating too fast. “But you know what? None of my friends would ever talk about you like that because I talk about you like you hung up the fucking moon.” You felt one single tear slide down your cheek as you let out a sad laugh. "I guess that makes me clingy."

Mason's eyes shut as he leaned his head back against the headboard. His heart was thumping loudly in his chest and he could feel his ears and cheeks heating up more and more for each second that passed because he felt embarrassed. Not because he had been caught but because he had been caught acting like a teenage boy trying to impress his friends by acting like he doesn't care about anything. He wasn't a teenage boy anymore, he was a grown man and he had someone in front of him who loved every single part of him and yet he had ruined that.

“I’m going to go. Lauren is picking me up.”

“Please don’t go.”

"Mason, do you honestly expect me to stay here? I heard you complain about how I'm here too much!" Your patience was running thin and you felt yourself starting to get angry. “You could have just told me how you felt and I would have understood. You could have just told me you felt like I was here too much and I would have given you space but instead you went about it the wrong way and still expect me to just act like nothing happened." You chose your words carefully, not wanting to hurt him just because he had hurt you. “You’re meant to talk to me about how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t know what else to say except that I’m so fucking sorry. I know I messed up. I know you didn’t deserve to hear any of that. I know that and I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“You should have thought about that before.” Mason was hoping you would say anything but that. He was selfishly hoping you would tell him that he hadn't lost you, that you were still his but that you were just hurt but when you didn't he felt his eyes water and his vision blur. "I'm going to go."

“Y/n, come on. We can work through this."

“I need some time to think, okay?” Mason felt hopeful at that. “Good luck on international break. I’ll be rooting for you like always.” You knew your friend hadn't arrived yet but you needed to get out of his house. You couldn't handle seeing Mason cry and you knew that one more lok at him would have you folding so instead you ran down the stairs and waited outside for ten minutes before your friend arrived. The ride was silent and once you were in the comfort of your own apartment and in your own bed you let go completely and cried until you fell asleep.

And twenty minutes away, Mason is crying too because he can't do anything but wait.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #football imagine #football fanfic #writing

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booksdaydream · 1 year

Text

The Lost and Found

*SPOILERS OF THE GAME HOGWARTS LEGACY AHEAD*

Characters: Dark!Sebastian; use of MC; GN!MC; Ominis Gaunt.

Summary: Based on this post by @avadakedavravravra. Basically, Sebastian goes mad after hearing MC and Ominis decide to turn him in during IN THE SHADOW OF FATE quest in the game, so he plans to take Ominis’s place.

Warnings: mild violence; mild abuse (imprisionment); talks about death (Solomon); angst; pretty sad, I think.

Word count: 2K+

A/N: I found this idea very interesting and thought to explore, maybe add a little sprinkle of romance, maybe MC being a hero? Some potential for good ending. So far, I only wrote about Sebastian spiraling, but I intend to write a part II to continue developing his evil plan. Enjoy some angst!

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Masterlist

This chapter on AO3

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Sebastian wasn’t surprised when MC walked on him arguing with Ominis at the Undercroft. His last decision on using the killing curse against his uncle was a necessary evil on his quest to find a cure for his sister, but Ominis didn’t seem to understand that. His bestfriend of all people refused to see reason. He refused to understand that Sebastian didn’t mean to hurt his uncle, but doing so was the only way to save his sister. And now, Anne was considering turning him in. But she needed him. She needed her brother. Sebastian asked MC to convince Ominis of such, through a pleading tone and a desperate look. He had noticed that Ominis had started to listen to them, sometimes more than himself. They couldn't refuse him.

“No matter what happens from here – I’m glad we met”, he shot MC before turning his back on a distraught Ominis and a concerned MC. Sebastian left the Undercroft so his two friends could have a private conversation about it without his presence looming over their decision, and MC could thoroughly convince Ominis. Or so they thought. Sebastian could pretend to leave for their sake, but the decision was hardly a simple one for him to leave on their hands.

As soon as he opened the clock secret door, he casted a disillusionment charm on himself and silencio on his feet, descending the steps onto the Undercroft once more. He approached his pair of friends to hear their discussion without their voices echoing and getting lost on the room and hid behind a column. He watched MC reach out to Ominis’s arm in a comforting gesture, squeezing it while his breath got caught in his throat. “Ominis”, they called. “What a mess -“, he responded starting to rant about his concerns.

He told MC about meeting Anne and becoming aware of her distress, her battle between wanting Sebastian to face consequences for his actions and not wanting him to get further damaged was maddening. His voice was increasingly upset, quavering at his build-up emotions. But all Sebastian heard was his words. Cutting like knives, dripping his betrayal. “I don’t want to lose Sebastian, but I don’t think we have a choice”. The first part didn’t matter. Not anymore. Not with what he uttered right after. He wanted to turn him in. Sebastian held his breath, however, waiting for MC, hoping for their answer, he heard intently. They would disagree, they would stay by his side. He was sure of it. MC would support him even if his bestfriend – the word now had a bitter taste to it – wouldn’t. But the betrayal came in pairs that day. “We don’t have a choice. You’re right. You were right the entire time.”, MC responded in a quiet, almost whispery tone.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His most trusted friends colluding to have him sent away, probably to rot in Azkaban. He would never see them again, let alone see Anne. His blood rushed to his head, his heart pumping fast in his chest and his mouth drying out. He could feel his ears ringing and all the pieces he understood for the rest of the conversation sounded like accusations to him. His friends weren’t concerned for his future, Merlin, oh no, they were concerned with their own guilt. Saving their own arses by turning his in. “I’ll tell the Headmaster”, Sebastian heard Ominis say with a tired voice and a sigh. Then, his mind started racing. He needed a plan. Quick.

Sebastian waited quietly for them to leave the Undercroft, his mind racing. What could he do? Intercept Ominis? Try to convince him? No. He hadn’t listened. He had made his choice. Maybe he could get rid of Headmaster Black? He’d killed before, he could kill again. No. No. He wasn’t like this. Killing was what got him here in the first place. There must be a better way. Then his mind wondered to a room he heard about from one of the house elven in Hogwarts through a whisper. The Room of Requirement. A room that appears when one needs it. And who would be in more need of a hiding place than Sebastian at that moment. He had to find it, however, and for that he needed time.

Quickly he rushed to the DADA classroom, the closest, and hoped Professor Hecat wouldn’t be in. He was lucky. He entered her room and swiped some parchment, writing a quick letter for Headmaster Black. An excuse to take him out of his office. He told him to meet Professor Hecat on the other side of the castle near the greenhouses, something urgent about a duel between students and a hurt pureblood. That’d do. And sent it with a spell. He had no time for an owl.

Then, he rushed to the kitchens, he needed to find a house elf that would tell him where the room was hiding. He rushed like his life depended on it, and it did, tripping some students just then realizing his spells were still in place. Not bad for a fifth year, he thought with a smirk. It took him long and precious minutes until he found a house elf willing to talk, Gloria, she seemed nervous but excited to share the secrets of the room to a student in need. It was on an empty wall in the Astronomy Wing. Sebastian rushed, finally visible to the other students, except his former friend Ominis that didn’t seem to notice him as he moved towards the other side of the castle. Probably returning from an empty Headmaster’s office. Sebastian frowned. An idea forming in this head.

He sneaked into a corner and made sure he wasn’t seen by anyone, once again casting the disillusionment charm and the silencio on his feet. Sebastian looked around for Ominis and easily found him heading towards the transfiguration courtyard, likely looking for Headmaster Black. These corridors were slightly busy with other students but as mentioned before wasn’t Sebastian quite the lucky guy. Peeves floated into the scene and started tormenting some second years, quickly scaring the students away. Ominis was also spooked by the poltergeist hastening his pace urging Sebastian to act faster.

Sebastian approached Ominis from behind, still protected by his charms, and casted disillusionment on him. This wouldn’t have worked on anyone else but him as Ominis didn’t see anything change, except feeling a weird sensation that came with the spell. However, he didn’t think much of it, his mind was elsewhere. Buried in thoughts and worries about a very special friend of his. Sebastian struck Ominis general location, as now with him barely visible he had to guess, with a Full Body-Bind spell and heard a thud. Perfect! He felt around the place with his also barely visible hand and found Ominis laying on the ground. He picked him up and hoisted him over his shoulder. Sebastian was fit enough to carry his much skinnier friend with ease. He summoned Ominis wand that fell farther away from its owner and hid it in his inside pocket. In a hurry he left for the room of requirement.

Indeed, was he a lucky boy for the room made itself known almost immediately as Sebastian stepped in front of the wall. He was concerned the room would show itself for Ominis’s sake, but he was delightfully surprised to find it otherwise fit for his needs. The intricate door emerged from the rock-solid emptiness and opened quietly into a small room, with some simple amenities. A bed, a toilet, and a bath. Sebastian put his, now heavy with the many steps he had to climb, friend onto the bed and undid the disillusionment spell.

He was greeted with a confused stare, almost desperate. Without any sound made by Sebastian, Ominis must have been utterly confused about what was going on. And Sebastian wanted to keep things that way for now. He kept his friend bonded and took a deep breath. What now? He had Ominis. Entrapped. He had yet to speak with the Headmaster, as it seemed. Should he confirm it? Would Ominis lie? Should he try to talk some sense into his friend? The word felt bitter once again and Sebastian felt as if he had no friends anymore. Besides Anne he was now truly alone. The boy he captured was but a stranger. He turned around and left.

–

It took two days for the Headmaster to summon Sebastian to his office to enquire about Ominis’s whereabouts. By then he already had a plan. Wonky, but manageable. For Headmaster Black he told an elaborated lie about Ominis visiting distant relatives to rekindle his connection with his family’s Dark Arts as a result of a fierce fight between him and his sister after his uncle’s death, almost as if Ominis intended to slowly make up for his wrongdoings to his family’s traditions. The Headmaster seemed proud of his story and promised to punish him lightly upon return as having accumulated content to revise in class would be punishment enough – although Sebastian heard Professor Weasley much more disappointed reproval of Ominis’s “decision”.

To MC, Sebastian put on a happy front. Pretending they had decided not to turn him in and, oh, that made him so delighted. In his lie, they were the bestest of friends. About Ominis, however, he was concerned, but he understood that maybe the realization one could lose family so easily as Sebastian did his uncle, it wouldn’t be surprising if Ominis was suddenly afraid of losing the Gaunts. But it wasn’t as if MC fully believed his lies. They knew Ominis. His fears, his traumas, his family’s cruelty. He’d never return to them, much less to the Dark Arts. But until they could find him, putting up with Sebastian’s cheeriness was the least they could do. And Sebastian knew their suspicion too.

To Ominis, Sebastian said nothing. He fed him once a day with two pieces of bread and water. He never spoke to him, never even showed him his face. The only interaction he had with his former friend was to pluck a couple hair strands from his head after casting a Full Body-Bind spell for a second time. But it wasn’t as if Ominis had accepted his fate. In his first day, he familiarized himself with his new room and tried to get answers from his captor, only receiving a light scoff in return for his snappy mouth. He first tried questions which quickly turned into threats then pleads to then return to questions, all remaining unanswered. Whoever they were, they didn’t care he was a Gaunt, they were careful to take his wand and to keep him in a place he’d never been to before. Ominis spent the entire day touching the walls, the floor, trying to reach the ceiling and failing.

He tried to make out what kind of room was he in. Was he still in Hogwarts? He must have been. Whoever took him didn’t walk so far. Did no one saw them leaving? Them carrying him? There were students around. Peeves was around. They must have been close to invisibility. They must be a student. Or a professor. Or a family member. Could they be a Gaunt? He’d shiver. His brother, Marvolo? Maybe a prank for all the years he had fought against their teachings. Surely, they wouldn’t come all the way to Hogwarts for that, not now. Why now? Perhaps it was a Goblin? No, MC took care of them. Besides, it was very unlikely he was away from Hogwarts. They hadn’t Flooed, nor apparated. He was awake when they left afterall. His thoughts kept him awake for many days and even when he repeated some of them to his captor, he only heard silence back. He didn’t know yet, but it was going to take him weeks before realizing who was keeping him. And months, before he finally gave up.

Sebastian needed to keep up these appearances for a month. Only a month. Until the Polyjuice finished brewing. And then, Sebastian would disappear and Ominis would return from his family holiday with a slight affinity for the Dark Arts. Or maybe, he could return from a month in captivity from the hands of Sabastian Sallow. Except he never escaped. And he was simply substituted. His friends wanted him to be a monster. No, they made him into a monster. They allowed him to become one. So, they would have it. The monster they created.

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*No reproduction of this text allowed without credit*

#hl #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #mc #sebastian sallow angst #hogwarts legacy angst #hogwarts legacy x reader #fanfiction #fic #writing #sebastian sallow fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanfiction #meustextos #the lost and found

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neopuff · 2 months

Text

ALWAYS ON MY MIND

chapter seven: broaden the mind ships: sasha/milla characters: milla, sasha, oleander word count: 7311 ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53435410/chapters/137330218

[chap 1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

Many things came naturally to her.

Dancing, having great hair, friendly conversation, caring about children…

…and best of all - being a psychic secret agent.

Within a year of working with the Psychonauts and working alongside Agent Nein, Milla had become an agent of significant renown. Everyone in the Motherlobe knew her by name and reputation and by her brightly colored dresses. They even started to call her the Mental Minx. Psychonauts from around the world knew of the exploits and successes of Agents Nein and Vodello.

They had the highest mission success rate of any partnership in Psychonauts history. They saved countless lives. They solved mysteries long forgotten. They uncovered psychic secrets. And best of all - they looked good while doing it.

July 6th, 1980 Liverpool, England

“Sasha,” she communicated psychically, not wanting to give away their position, “I can feel them up ahead. Two minds full of turmoil - though one is much more disjointed than the other.”

He nodded at her and they continued towards the door, making sure to stay invisible the entire time. “No matter what happens, make sure you work as quickly as possible.”

“Of course, darling. We’ll get Owens out of here safely.”

They went silent for a minute, focusing on the creaking and shifting sounds made by the abandoned factory. It clearly hadn’t had anyone inside in a very long time - the hustle and bustle of new activity was probably dangerous. If the bomb didn’t kill everyone, the building could just fall down on its own.

Up ahead, the two agents spotted a large, triangular door. It was already open, and they could hear someone talking quite loudly. More than talking, actually - he was bragging. Bragging about his evil exploits.

Milla shook her head and could practically feel Sasha rolling his eyes behind the sunglasses. They’d faced a good number of villains together, but they never got used to the showboats.

“Just a few seconds to go, mon cherie!” boomed the haughty voice from the other room. “And now it’s my time to say…adieu!”

Milla and Sasha locked eyes and decided there was no better time to get moving - they’d struggled to find the location and wasted too much time getting inside. There was no more time to lose.

Together, they burst into the room, not surprised to see Owens tied crudely to a large explosive device and Vaillant attempting to sneak out the window.

“Sacre bleu!” Vaillant shouted. He started to scurry, moving his arms and legs faster than ever.

Sasha reached out a telekinetic hand to grab onto his shirt. “I’ve got him, Milla - get the bomb!”

“Already on it!” she responded quickly. She created an extended time bubble, giving herself extra time to use telekinesis and take apart the bomb from the inside. She’d studied this. She knew exactly what to do. Didn’t make the situation any less nerve wracking - but Sasha staying so close by was helpful. He was letting her know how confident he was in her ability to save them all, and she wouldn’t let him or anyone else down.

The time bubble ended and one more second passed before the timer finally stopped - with 0:01 left on the screen. Milla took a deep breath and pretended not to notice the drop of sweat sliding down Sasha’s face.

“Excellent work, Agent Vodello,” he said with a smile, still holding the wriggling and ranting Vaillant in the air.

“Thank you very much, Agent Nein!” Milla responded, reaching down to untie Owens.

The short, portly man was hyperventilating until she untied the rope, then he jumped into the air gleefully. “Oh, thank you! Thank you both so much!” he shouted, wrapping his arms around Milla’s waist and hugging her tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She looked surprised for a moment, then patted his back. “We’re just glad you’re safe!”

Sasha stared at them, unable to hold back a pout. He didn’t one hundred percent understand why he was pouting, but there it was. And he couldn’t look away from the man latched onto his partner - she didn’t seem uncomfortable, but Sasha still felt an urge to pull him off of her. Some people were too presumptuous, initiating such significant physical contact with strangers.

He thought back to the first time Milla had hugged him and then turned away from her, running a hand through his hair. They knew each other a little by then, at least. It wasn’t remotely comparable.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Milla asked, suddenly standing next to him. “Did we miss something?”

“No.” He glared up at Vaillant, who was still cursing at the three of them loudly. “He’s giving me a headache, is all.”

She smiled at him and laid her hand gently against his arm. “All the more reason to get him to the local authorities as quickly as possible!”

Normally they’d bring caught villains back to the closest Psychonauts facility for processing, but Vaillant wasn’t actually psychic. He’d been faking it for months in an attempt to steal from the locals, not realizing he’d caught the eye of the Psychonauts by doing so. For a while they’d just monitored him, but his recent murder attempt was significant enough to warrant their interference. Local police wouldn’t have gotten to Owens in time, so it was worth the exposure risk to save at least one innocent life.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” he answered with a smile.

Hollis was right, working with Sasha had taught Milla so much about being a Psychonaut. He was patient with her when she struggled and encouraging when she needed a boost. He was intelligent and worldly and knew exactly how to handle the homicidal psychics that tried to stir up trouble.

That being said, Milla liked to think she taught him things, too. Sasha socialized more often since their partnership began, and he was more confident when it came to certain types of missions.

April 18, 1981 Pretoria, South Africa

Milla enjoyed dressing up. Everyone knew that about her - she was always dressed to impress, after all, and had a comprehensive selection of beautiful clothes to choose from every day. It was one of those little things that made her feel better, especially when she was having a bad time.

Getting to dress up for a mission was a special treat. And even more special, was getting to see Sasha dress up, too! His clothes were modest, conservative, and repetitive. He had several of the exact same jacket and pants to prevent wasting any time getting ready in the morning. But for their current mission, he had no choice but to play dress-up with her.

She’d chosen his outfit for him - the villainous party they’d be attending was glamorous and avant-garde, two things that Sasha Nein did not know how to dress for.

Luckily, his partner was well-versed in all things fashion.

Milla was making some last-minute adjustments to her outfit - deciding on which earrings to wear always took her the longest amount of time - when she heard shuffling behind her. She smiled and decided on the long, large dangles when a voice spoke up behind her.

“You, um…you look lovely, Camilla.”

Getting compliments from Sasha Nein wasn’t rare - in the past year, he’d begun to compliment her more and more on her skills and occasionally her hair when she put some work into it. But it still made her feel very, very good. She smiled brightly and turned around, putting the earrings in. “Thank you, Sasha! Maybe I’ll try this hairstyle again sometime.”

She finally took a good look at him and Milla couldn’t fight the smile that came to her face. Which then turned into a giggle that she had to cover up by putting a hand over her mouth and turning away.

Sasha frowned, his cheeks turning red. “What? Is the mustache too much?”

Milla shook her head and walked closer, reaching up to adjust his large, bulbous hat. “No, darling, it’s perfect. You look very handsome.”

He grumbled and turned his face away from hers. “...thank you, but looking handsome isn’t exactly the goal.”

She laughed at that and moved her hands down to his coat, tugging gently on the lapels. “No, of course not. You look very menacing, too. We’ll blend right in, I’m sure.”

At that, Sasha turned back to her, and Milla suddenly became very aware of how close their faces were. Sometimes it scared her how much she enjoyed being close to him, especially considering how well they knew each other. They’d been inside each other’s minds on countless occasions - it was intimate in its own way, but so, so different from really feeling each other.

She smiled at him again and backed away, walking to their hotel room mirror. “I think we should add some jewelry to your outfit Mr. Barroso,” she said cheekily, referencing the fake name he was using to get into the party.

He let out a deep breath behind her and slowly followed. “Whatever you say…Mrs. Barroso.”

When she’d first started at the Psychonauts, fellow agents told her he was stiff and unfun and overly serious all the time. Milla would give them stiff - especially when she hugged him or kissed him on the cheek - but certainly not unfun and he was perfectly capable of loosening up and joking around with her. It took them a bit to get there, sure, but when she saw him crack a smile or heard his laugh, it made her feel like her day was a success.

The most important thing about him, though, was how safe she felt with him.

Milla didn’t have any fear going into unknown territory. Sasha was always by her side and they’d keep each other safe - whether facing a villain of unknown strength, sneaking into a club with dozens of known criminals waiting for an opportunity to shoot, or even just chatting with a man whose eyes wandered more than necessary.

And even if he wasn’t right there with her, she felt safer knowing he was a part of her life.

March 3rd, 1982 9,500 Miles Over Lake Tanganyika

“Sasha!”

His head hurt.

There was a piercing noise in his ears and a bright light in the center of a pitch black tunnel that was his vision, but mostly all he could focus on was the pounding in his head.

“Darling, please open your eyes!”

He tried to move his arms and twitched a few fingers, too exhausted to do much else. Trying to move on from the distracting headache only made him realize that his entire body hurt, too. Why did it hurt so badly?

“Come on, Nein!”

A different voice spoke that time, and then he realized: there were voices speaking to him. Both in his head and in his ears, two voices repeatedly shouting his name. It was kind of agitating, if he was being honest. Why were they shouting? He could hear them just fine.

Sasha scrunched his eyebrows together and heard a gasp as he did. It sounded almost like a happy gasp, if he had to guess.

Then there was suddenly a heavy weight on his chest, and he was all but forced to open his eyes and finally take in whatever was happening around him.

“M-Milla?!” he coughed out, trying to catch his breath.

She pulled back, letting one hand rest on his shoulder while the other cradled his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re alright, Sasha! I’ve never seen you get hit like that before!”

“I knew he’d be fine.”

“You can barely walk, Morry, go sit down!”

“Bah! Fine! But you’re not the boss of me!”

Sasha blinked repeatedly, slightly blinded by the sudden brightness of the room and definitely confused by the conversation he was hearing. “What’s…going on?” he said slowly.

She took a deep breath before answering. “You were shot, darling. A few times.”

He frowned and took a deep breath. That would explain the pain he was in. The memories of their current mission started flooding back to him as he tried to figure out what parts of him were aching and throbbing the most. “Where?”

“Ah, um…your right shoulder was hit, and your right calf was grazed a few times.” She paused for a second, stroking her thumb against his cheek. “Your shield protected you from getting hit in the head, but one bullet grazed your temple.”

Sasha sighed. “Can you move me into a seated position?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound as miserable as he felt.

“Of course,” Milla answered softly, doing as he asked.

Sasha opened his eyes properly and took in the view - Milla was sitting on her knees in front of him, not a scratch on her, while Morceau was laying on a bench behind them covered in bruises and blood. The man was cradling one leg, giving Sasha the impression that he’d been shot as well. At least he had plenty of experience with that.

“What happened with Peters?”

“His helicopter is still out there!” Oleander shouted from his seat. “But Milla here wanted to make sure you weren’t dead before she took him out!”

“Morceau!” she said sternly, glaring at the man. “You make it sound like I did something wrong!”

Sasha shook his head. His partner struggled to leave behind injured teammates, and as much as he appreciated her help, there were times when her concerns got in the way of finishing the job. “He’s right, Milla. You need to stop him. There’s no time for this.”

She sat there silently for a moment, staring at him. The way her eyes bore into his own made Sasha realize that his sunglasses were gone - no wonder the lights were hurting his head so much worse than usual.

“But I-”

“Camilla.” Sasha closed his eyes, trying to focus. He was in a lot of pain. “We’re fine. Go.”

“...alright,” Milla said softly.

He could hear her stand up and felt a surge of pride that she was listening to him, but before she took her leave from the jet, Sasha felt a pair of warm lips brush against his forehead. His entire body would’ve gone stiff if he had the energy for it - instead, he opened his eyes just in time to see Milla giving a similar smooch to Morceau.

“I’ll be back.”

Sasha watched her go and let out a deep sigh. He and Oleander needed to tend to their injuries as much as possible. But he also wanted to take a minute and think about how he could still smell Milla’s perfume against his skin. It was slightly intoxicating.

“Ha! What did I say, Nein? You’re not special!” Oleander shouted, a pained smirk on his face. “She’ll kiss anyone who needs it!” Sasha’s face turned bright red as he realized Morceau was referencing and completely misinterpreting an earlier conversation they’d had. “That’s not what I…ugh…just shut up, Morry.”

It was hard to think that they'd ever been strangers.

Over three years into their partnership and Milla couldn't imagine her life without Sasha Nein as part of it. She still did her own thing on free weekends - she'd go out with friends and party or have a few drinks and it would be a lovely time. But it wasn't the same as when she and Sasha would go to the bowling alley together and just…talk.

There was one evening they spent together where Milla found herself unable to tear her eyes from his face. He'd been talking about aliens - a subject he was quite passionate about that Milla did not find particularly interesting - but she couldn't bring herself to interrupt him or add anything.

She just wanted to listen to his voice.

When they parted ways that night, she realized that she was in love with him. It was a bit embarrassing - not the love she felt, but the knowledge that she'd probably been in love with him for a long time and not noticed.

As a Psychonaut who was meant to pay close attention to what was going on in her head, Milla felt clueless. She hadn't had such strong feelings for another person since she was a teenager, and she definitely didn't know what to do about it.

She really doubted that Sasha felt the same way about her. He appreciated her and maybe even loved her, but in love seemed like a stretch.

Milla sighed and floated towards Sasha’s office. She knew he was working behind that door even though he told her he was going home. She knew him better than that.

She glanced at the door next to his - which was currently an empty office after Second Head Forsythe moved to her new space and then Agent Yeomans moved to the Psychonauts base in the United Kingdom. Maybe, if she played her cards right and kept being an unstoppable team with Sasha, Milla would be the next agent to earn it.

“Darling,” she thought, reaching out to Sasha’s mind nearby. “Try not to stay up all night.”

There was a slight hesitation before he responded. “Of course. Goodnight, Milla.”

Those two sentences were a regularity for them - Sasha loved working through the night, forgetting to eat or sleep because he was so focused on a project. His dedication to his work was admirable, but he needed to take better care of himself.

She sighed and floated away from his office. The few drinks she'd had in the bowling alley were making her mind repeatedly fall back to the subject of love and she knew she'd need to sleep it off, then hurry up and organize her thoughts in the morning. If she made Sasha uncomfortable around her, she'd never forgive herself.

August 20th, 1983 Melbourne, Australia

It was a long chase.

A long, long boat chase through Port Phillip and Milla was so glad it was over. It felt like they’d been on their feet for hours and if Charno’s boat hadn’t run out of gas, they probably wouldn’t have caught up when they did. Thankfully, their own boat was powered by Sasha’s psychic powers and with the help of a few PSI pops, that was practically unlimited.

Neither of the two villains were psychic - simply interested in psychics and attempted to capture some psychics for experimentation - so Milla and Sasha were stuck dealing with local law enforcement to collect them. They’d likely have to come back for some psychic interrogation, but due process was important.

Milla didn’t particularly enjoy dealing with police. Her experiences with them as a teenager had been bad enough, but dealing with them as an adult hadn’t been much better. Especially not when she was standing around in her bikini.

She frowned, listening while Sasha explained the situation to Officer McKenna. The man was taking notes while his partner handcuffed Charno and De Lacey and shoved them into the back of their car.

They were dressed for the beach, not for a jail cell. Milla felt bad for them, despite the fact that they’d tried to kidnap her earlier in the day. Maybe Sasha was right, she was too forgiving sometimes. But it was simply how she was.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t have anything to add?”

Milla glanced up to see that the police officer was addressing Sasha still, pointing to her. He’d probably introduced them as concerned citizens who came across a bad situation, rather than the Secret Agents they really were. Many countries refused to recognize the authority of the Psychonauts despite all the good work they did, so it was easier to just pretend they were citizens half the time.

“No.”

The two officers looked at each other, almost like they were having a psychic conversation of their own.

Sasha piped up again. “She doesn't speak much English.”

“Alright, whatever,” the officer responded.

They could both read his simple mind very easily and knew he didn't believe Sasha, but also that he didn't care. And that he was mostly interested in talking to Milla because of her looks.

As they walked away with the villains in tow, Sasha walked back over to Milla and quickly took off his jacket, placing it gently on her shoulders.

Milla already had her arms wrapped around her chest and smiled as his hand lightly brushed hers. She tugged on the jacket and closed her eyes, comforted by how much it smelled like Sasha. Who knew the scent of cigarettes could ever be so enjoyable?

“Thank you,” she said softly. The bikini was starting to feel a little uncomfortable while they stood around for so long.

He shrugged in response. “You looked cold.”

Though Sasha was a master of keeping certain thoughts to himself, Milla could pick up little hints from his mind that implied he didn't like the way those officers and other random passersby were looking at her. It was very sweet.

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, pulling back in time to see him visibly stiffen and his face turning bright red. Milla smiled and turned away to give him enough privacy to calm his nerves down. “And now I'm not cold!”

He took a moment, taking enough deep breaths to get the normal greenish color back to his cheeks.

Milla decided to tease him a little more, only because she enjoyed it so much. “I think I may keep this, actually. I've never felt so comfortable!”

Sasha turned to her and pouted slightly, the pink on his cheeks coming back. “I…that's my favorite jacket,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I guess you'll have to get a new favorite,” Milla responded with a bright smile on her face. She looked back at their boat and it finally hit her that they were miles and miles away from where they'd parked the jet. “We should start heading back before it gets dark.”

He frowned, confused by the sudden change of subject. “Yes, I suppose we should.” After a pause, he added, “I'll want that jacket back eventually, Milla.”

Getting to know Sasha Nein was a slow process. He was a very private man, and even when she was in his mind there were things he kept away from her.

She knew about his situation with his father. It was awful, but, in her opinion, their relationship was definitely fixable. But she didn’t want to stress him out by asking too many questions, despite the fact that she really wanted to help. Milla’s father passed when she was a teenager and she would’ve loved the opportunity to see him again if she could. But Sasha’s situation was different.

By the fourth year of their partnership, she’d come to know more details about Sasha’s mother, too. And the details of why Sasha ran away from home.

He was so young. Only a few years older than some of the orphans that’d been in her care. It was heartbreaking to know that he was so confused and scared and uncomfortable that he didn’t want to be around his father anymore. And by the time he fully understood what had happened, too many years had passed to go back without explanation.

She was so moved when he told her that he and his father had some brief contact through letters over the past several years. It was small, but she was proud of him. His experience was strange and unique and traumatizing and she was glad he was working through it one step at a time.

Anytime she expressed those feelings, he’d dismiss it and compare it to the terrible things she’d been through. He even told her, once, after a few drinks, that her strength to move forward inspired him to keep trying with his father.

She could’ve kissed him for that, but it was probably for the best that she didn’t.

Still - it was nice. Nice to know that what she’d gone through and how she’d grown was having a positive impact on one of the most important people in her life.

December 25th, 1983 The Motherlobe, California, USA

He didn't particularly enjoy the time of year.

Sasha was an atheist, first of all. So celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ held no interest for him. He had very little family, and what he did have was thousands of miles away. And he didn't have many friends to celebrate with, either.

So instead of a time for joy and jubilance, to him it was a time of crowds and loud music.

Which was all the more reason for him to stay in his office and work extra hard - especially when he and Milla were in the middle of tracking down the Noodler.

He was a despicable man who used his psychic abilities to jumble people’s minds. He'd turn their thoughts and ability to form words into an absolute mess, making a person refer to shoes as fish or doors as cats. His latest victim had lost control of his limbs - when he tried to command his leg, it would move his arm instead.

It was a dangerous and advanced bit of mental power. Sasha would've been impressed if he wasn't so disturbed by it.

The Noodler last struck on December 16th at the Santa Cruz County National Bank. After three days of repairing damaged minds and getting information, Sasha and Milla were back at headquarters to analyze the data and see if they could figure out the next spot he'd hit.

But as they sat in their respective offices, Sasha looking for patterns in spots the Noodler attacked and Milla mentally reaching out to see if anyone could help her find him, he wondered if this was cruel.

Just because he had no interest in Christmas didn't mean Milla felt the same way. She probably had standing invitations to at least a dozen Christmas parties, and he was practically forcing her to stay at work with him instead.

With a deep breath, he reached out towards her mind with his own. “Milla?”

It was only a few moments before she responded. “Hello, Sasha!”

Her cheerfulness always made him smile. “I just wanted to say, um…I appreciate you working late with me, but if you have anywhere else you'd like to be right now, I won't be offended if you leave.”

This time there was a much longer pause, one that made Sasha briefly worry that he'd said something wrong.

“Ah, right. It's Christmas Eve, isn't it?”

He sighed. It wasn't surprising that Milla was focused so intensely on their search for the Noodler - one of his victims was only twelve years old and she was always extra sensitive to the endangerment of children. “Almost seven o’clock on Christmas Eve.”

He could feel her mind sorting through something for a few moments until she responded again. “I was thinking of going to Sherri’s little Christmas party, but it doesn't sound like it'll be a good time.”

“Why's that?”

There was a bright happiness radiating off of her words. “Because you won't be there, of course!”

Sasha's cheeks turned pink and he severed the connection between their minds for a few moments so he could collect himself. He was never quite sure if Milla was serious or just teasing him when she said things like that, but either way he knew he'd have to quickly take the memory of those words and file them into one of his many folders dedicated to Milla Vodello.

He reconnected their thoughts and continued the conversation. “I, um. I appreciate the sentiment. But you really don't have to stay if you don't want to.”

She hummed a Christmas tune in their shared thought space and chuckled. “You know, Sasha, at a certain point it'll feel like you want me to leave!”

“I certainly do not,” he answered quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. Sasha enjoyed spending time with her and he liked how dedicated she was to their work, but he didn't want her to feel obligated just because he was a workaholic (as she so lovingly put it). “Just want to make sure you know that I don't expect you to stay all night.”

“You don't have to stay all night, either, you know.”

“I can assure you, I've nowhere else to be and no one else to talk to.”

There was a brief pause before Milla sent out another thought. “What about your father? You told me you'd been wanting to get in touch with him again.”

Sasha felt nervous at that, shame and guilt creeping over him. And thanks to their shared mental connection, Milla could no doubt feel his shame and guilt, which then made him feel even more ashamed and guilty. It was an unfortunate cycle. But she was correct, Sasha had every intention of reaching out to his father again. After the Wrong Address Debacle of a few years earlier, he'd sent out one letter apologizing for the delay and then…that was it. He hadn't heard back.

But he was able to confirm through a contact in Germany that his father was alive and well.

So Sasha was stuck: send another letter? Call him? Or assume that the lack of reply was its own response and their relationship was done forever?

“I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to bring up bad feelings.”

Sasha sighed. The holidays were a time for family - it was inevitable that his father would come up in one conversation or another. “It's fine. I've just been…putting that off.”

A small part of Sasha wondered if it would be worthwhile to take a trip and see his father in-person for the first time in two decades, but then he felt abnormally small at the thought of making such a big step. Perhaps with his partner by his side, it wouldn't be so bad, but he'd never place that burden on her shoulders.

“Well if you ever want to go see him, you know I'd be happy to come with and support you!” Milla chirped, sending a wave of positive energy his way.

He smiled as the warmth fell over his shoulders. It was uncanny how well she could read him in only a few years time. It was no wonder he enjoyed her company so deeply. “I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Milla.”

Milla had very strong feelings for him.

She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but she also wanted him to know. Just in case there was a small chance that he had similar feelings for her. He was shy and a bit awkward sometimes, so if she made her feelings clear then perhaps he’d feel more confident about his own.

Assuming there were feelings to be confident about.

It was difficult to tell. He spent more time with her than anyone else, but they were partners. He complimented her often and smiled at her and laughed with her, but they were friends. None of that was particularly damning. Not to mention his lack of interest in physical touch or romantic movies and books…Milla wasn’t sure if he had any interest in romance at all.

She was toeing a complicated line. She couldn’t be too obvious about her feelings because he’d get uncomfortable and it’d be a whole situation and then she could potentially lose the most important person in her life. But if she didn’t do anything at all, then…well, it wasn’t like Sasha Nein would ever make a first move. Especially if he wasn’t sure how she felt.

They didn’t have to get together, of course. She was perfectly happy just being partners and friends. But if it was possible, then she wanted to try it. She wanted to be with him more fully. She wanted to kiss him and see the adorable look on his face while he tried to hide the burning in his cheeks.

Part of her was a little scared about the possibility. They worked dangerous jobs and lived dangerous lives. Any day could be their last.

But her feelings for him were already so strong. Losing him as a friend or losing him as a lover would be equally difficult. Her life would feel empty either way. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to talk to him about it.

So she hesitated. She flip-flopped on what to do. She wanted to tell him, she didn’t want to tell him. She wanted to be with him, she didn’t want to risk it. She wanted to kiss him, she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. She wanted to hold him, but even more than that, she wanted him to hold her and that was a completely different situation which she had no idea how to create.

Until she could make a real decision on the matter, Milla stuck to her usual. Hugs, cheek kisses, light flirting. Little things that helped Sasha peek out of his shell and would hopefully help him understand just how much she appreciated him.

March 12th, 1984 Venado Tuerto, Argentina

The suit was a bit much.

Sasha was used to his partner wearing bright and colorful clothing, but it was usually very loose and flowing and comfortable-looking. Dresses that fell gently over her shoulders or skirts that danced around when she spun in the air.

What he wasn't used to were some of the clothes Milla chose to wear on missions. She certainly dressed for the occasion, no matter what that occasion was. Fancy ball gowns, sure. A little black bikini, alright.

But the skin tight leather catsuit was where he started to draw the line.

Though Sasha obviously had no say over his partner’s wardrobe, he felt very nervous while she had it on. He could clearly make out every curve of her body and the fact that a small part of him enjoyed the view was making him extremely uncomfortable. He didn't want to be the type of man to sexualize a woman on the job, but…well.

It was very tight.

He watched carefully as Milla lowered herself closer and closer to the caiman pit. She opened up the jar and telekinetically retrieved the president’s brain, quickly floating it up to her partner.

Sasha grabbed the brain and took a deep breath, happy that he finally had a distraction from the view. He knew he was being very disrespectful towards his partner for feeling such a way, but…well. He was only human. And she was very attractive. And he had come to terms with that fact a long time ago.

He re-cranialized the president as Milla made her way back up to the roof, scaling expertly. After so many years of working together, he didn’t even spare her a glance, knowing she’d land on her feet without so much as a misstep.

The shorter man staggered a bit, rubbing his forehead aggressively like he was fighting off a major headache. Being de-brained was an unpleasant experience, Sasha had been told, though he’d never dealt with it himself.

“How are you feeling, Presidente Alfonsín?” Milla asked, hand on the man’s shoulder. “¿Cómo está?”

The man shook his head and took a deep breath, pausing for a long moment. “Malo. Muy malo.”

Sasha heaved a deep sigh. If he was answering questions, then the re-cranialization process was successful. “Mr. President, can you tell us your birth date? Or the name of your wife?” He paused, then looked over at Milla. “Maybe you should lead this.”

She smiled at him. “My Spanish is not perfect, but I’ll try my best-”

President Alfonsín suddenly groaned and fell onto his back, spread-eagle and staring up at the sky. “Doce de marzo.” He paused and closed his eyes again. “María.”

Sasha walked over and took a seat next to the tired man, knees up and arms laying on top of them. “Good. Sounds like you’re back to normal.”

“Not yet,” the president said quietly. “Still in pain.”

Sasha stared down at him, about to continue the conversation or offer some sort of pain medication, when he heard a loud zip! behind him. Naturally, he turned around to see what was going on, and was greeted with the not-so-unexpected sight of Milla unzipping the back of her catsuit.

He turned away immediately, his cheeks a deep pink color.

“Sorry darling,” Milla said quietly, though there was a distinct chuckle in her voice. “It’s just so uncomfortably tight.”

“Mhm.” Sasha looked straight ahead, wondering what he’d done in a past life to deserve such punishment. “I noticed that. Looks very, um. Uncomfortable. As you said.”

She sat down and shivered as the wind hit her newly-freed back. “It was helpful getting through the lasers, though.”

He could feel his neck and hands getting sweaty. “Of course. That makes sense.”

She really did love him.

October 1st, 1984 Kowloon, Hong Kong

Levitating was very different from flying, which was very different from falling, which was very different from hurtling through the air surrounded by debris and heading straight for the ground.

Milla levitated almost as much as she walked. It was second nature to her - she didn't even have to think about it.

She was very comfortable while flying. The Psychonauts came into some money and had recently upgraded their jet - making it faster and safer than ever before.

Falling wasn't fun, but it was easy. Recoverable, usually.

But in the aftermath of an explosion - one they were very lucky to have gotten away from - Milla found that it wasn't as easy to recover when falling at such speeds. Sasha was right next to her, thankfully not injured any more than herself, but they both knew that was about to change.

She barely had enough mental energy left for a shield. It was safe to assume that Sasha was in the same boat. So they'd have to save what little energy they had for the exact moment they hit the ground. Prevent as much damage as possible.

They didn’t even need to communicate psychically to decide that taking hold of each other and combining their shields would be the best way to land. Milla grabbed Sasha and Sasha grabbed Milla and they squeezed each other as tightly as possible as the ground got closer and closer.

Shields went up, ground was hit. They landed intensely, rolled around for a moment, then finally stopped. Debris was still falling all around them. But Milla wasn’t too concerned.

Her focus was entirely on the man under her - whose arms had been wrapped around her waist just a moment earlier. Her hands were on his chest and her legs had managed to land on either side of his.

She was completely straddling him.

Which would’ve been the most notable and embarrassing part of the entire situation if not for the fact that their faces were mere inches from each other’s. It was much more distracting at that particular moment.

Especially when she noticed the blush coating his cheeks, complimenting the shy smile on his face. He looked good under her like that. He looked handsome. He looked se-

Milla knew she had a blush on her face as well, and smiled back at him. This was different. They’d been in plenty of intimate situations, been stuck in a small closet together, been thrown into one another and landed in a heap of limbs. But this was different.

Different in that she really, really wanted to kiss him.

It was a good thing she knew how to close her mind off to Sasha, or else he’d probably be scrambling away from her as quickly as possible. The thought made her laugh internally, and her smile grew wider.

Which made him smile a little more, too.

That was encouraging. She didn’t need encouragement. What she needed was-

“Nein! Vodello! Where the hell are you?!”

…that. She needed that.

The two of them were immediately shaken out of their stupor - Milla quickly sat up straight and looked to the left to find Morceau coughing and waving smoke out of his face.

Sasha sat up as well, but she was still straddling his waist so he could only get so far.

Oleander squinted his eyes at them and nodded, still coughing. “Are you two alright? That blast was intense!”

“We’re fine,” Sasha answered quickly. But then he turned to look at Milla again. “You are fine, aren’t you?”

Milla smiled at him. “A few cuts and scrapes. Nothing serious.”

Sasha smiled back. And then they were stuck in the same boat from earlier, except for one notable difference.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here before the local fuzz show up! I can’t get arrested again, not after last time!”

“We’ll be right there, Morry,” Milla answered, waving some smoke out of her face. There wasn’t much debris falling anymore, though the building they’d leapt from was in bad shape. It probably wouldn’t stay up for too much longer.

“Ahem, um. Milla, if you could, uh…”

She looked over at Sasha and tilted her head, then remembered she was quite literally preventing him from getting up, and quickly stood up and shook her head in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, darling, let’s get out of here.” She reached out a hand to help him up.

Sasha took it and they were both perfectly aware that their hands lingered longer than necessary.

“Let’s go already!” Oleander shouted, leading the way.

Sasha Nein did not like to exaggerate. He did not like to over- or underplay the seriousness of something. He did not like to make mountains out of molehills, or molehills out of mountains, or anything like that.

But when it came to Milla Vodello, sometimes he just…wasn’t sure how to quantify his feelings.

They were strong, stronger than he’d had for anyone else in his entire life. And he knew through reflection, advice, and analysis that he was one of the most important people in her life, if not the most important. She was affectionate and kind and reached out to him often. They chatted telepathically more than frequently - after half a decade of working closely together, they’d simply fallen into a habit.

When she woke up in the morning, she’d immediately reach out to let him know. Even when they were miles apart, their minds were connected like they were standing right next to each other.

It was a level of intimacy he’d had to get used to, but once he had…there was no going back.

He’d started mentally reaching out to her more often. Some days it felt like they were always talking in one way or another - her comforting presence would linger in his mind while he was working, and she seemed to enjoy when he’d curiously peek into her mind while she was working. Their partnership had blossomed better than he ever could’ve expected. They worked so well together it was like they operated as a single unit.

Sasha had also begun to understand over the years that he was probably in love with her. At least a little bit. Which was absolutely terrifying - love, being in love with someone, reminded him of his father’s misery after his mother died and Sasha never wanted to be stuck in the same situation.

But it was too late. The love was there and it wasn’t going away, whether he held her hand or kept his distance.

Sometimes she would spend so much time in his mind that he would swear he could smell her perfume.

He loved her quite a lot.

He probably wouldn’t ever tell her. Better to pine forever than potentially hurt their partnership.

Being around her was enough for him.

#psychonauts #sashamilla #milla vodello #sasha nein #science party #lunchtime yoga #carrofics #ok. this is my last attempt #i have removed all but one picture #now WORK!

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idealisticrealism · 5 days

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TCL 3x10 thoughts

The main things:

The ep starts immediately after last ep, then goes to the next morning and takes place over just one day. Nadia also says it’s been ‘an eventful few weeks’ since she made the deal to buy the house (which was in 3x01, so the entire season has taken place over around 3 weeks)

One of my favourite things about this series, and about Thony specifically, is that she’s not only an unintentional angel of death for the people around her, but also for criminal empires?? Literally this show is full of seasoned criminals who thrived for years in the darkest parts of the Vegas underworld, and then they encounter Thony, and boom! Down they go. Hayak. Cortes. Kamdar. (Even Arman, in a slightly different way). And now it looks like Sin Cara is next… honestly the Feds should be falling at her feet in gratitude haha

Lol at Thony and Fi’s little bit of theatre for Jeremy as they set up their own little ‘sting’ for him. Thony actually nearly breaking and laughing at Fi’s ranting for a second was so cute, because while this is a serious situation, it is a bit bizarre to think that this is what their life has become. And this scene was so worth it just to get to watch two skilled actors having to pretend to be bad at acting… moments like this are always fun, like a kind of act-ception haha. Ngl it’s a good thing that Thony confronts Jeremy by the end of the episode though, bc I doubt it would have taken much longer for him to notice something was up, with all the dramatic conversations happening right in front of his bugs while and other conversations were hushed under the cover of super loud TV/music. Not to mention the suspiciously intentional-looking plumbing emergencies lol (seriously Thony?? A hammer??? lol). To be fair though, Fi’s acting did improve a lot by the end, with their clever little ploy to make Jeremy think Thony was on her way to kill Nadia. That entire sequence was done well– even though anyone who has been watching the show for more than like a week would know that Thony would never kill Nadia (at least while literally any other option existed), it was still enjoyable to experience the ‘suspense’ that the creative team set up regarding Nadia’s fate. I just hope that she can make it through the finale…

Honestly I love the deliberate continued theme in this show of Thony being caught between worlds, and the constant push and pull of ‘good vs evil’ and ‘power vs vulnerability’. It’s why, despite all her efforts, she can never quite escape the criminal world, and she can never quite escape the hold of the FBI either. And they’re often tied up together, too– to protect herself or someone she cares about from one, she reaches out to the other. In late s1, Arman helped protect her from the FBI by agreeing to be an informant, and in turn she was part of the plan to protect him from both the FBI and Hayak. In S2, she agrees to inform for the FBI again in order to protect Arman and keep him out of prison. And now, she’s making that same deal– and risking her own safety– but for Nadia this time. To me, though, I think that she’s reached a kind of ‘fool me once’ situation with the FBI, and though she says she’s going to help then take down Sin Cara, I think she is actually going to be following her own agenda, and using the ties she has to both the cartel and the FBI to manipulate them into taking each other out, and leaving her being the only one left standing. And god I hope that’s where things are headed bc I would be so here for it.

I really wish we’d been able to see a lot more of Thony and Nadia’s relationship this season, because it’s so compelling and complex and I’ve loved every moment they’ve shared so far. Nadia’s “oh no” at seeing Thony walking into the club was hilarious; they haven’t seen each other in the week or so since the wake, but Thony showing up at the club looking deathly serious is never a good sign. I loved that they were immediately like ‘ok bye Jorge the grownups need to talk’ tho lol– he may have formed connections with both of them, but he hasn’t gotten to this level of club membership yet. Thony’s first question to Nadia (“Did you cut a deal with the feds?”) felt like an interesting tie-in to the events of earlier eps, given that it was exactly what Nadia asked her at the wake– tbh these two must feel like they’re on a merry-go-round or something, and it’s all because they just haven’t been completely open with one another!!! But finally, here, they’re starting to be, even if it’s too goddamn late now (*adele voice* we could have had it aaaaaalll). But anyway ughhhh “All I wanted was to find Arman, like you. I wanted to protect him.” Honestly Nadia acknowledging/accepting Thony’s genuine love of Arman has been one of the parts of this season that I have appreciated the most. These two women are bonded by that love, which is why Thony telling Nadia she should have come to her is such a punch in the gut, because you can see her pain and regret, her utter dismay at the fact that her preoccupation with her own family (getting Fi and Chris back, preventing Luca from being taken away) led her to overlook what was going on with Nadia– aka with Arman’s family– and now she has let down the only other person Arman truly loved. And I think she went to La Habana fully intending to warn her, but then it became clear that Nadia wouldn’t listen to her even if she did try to pose the fake-death plan (“You always think you know everything. But you don’t”), and would’ve almost certainly tried to run instead, endangering both of them. So instead Thony tries once more to talk Ramona out of it (unsuccessfully, of course), and ugh when she says she wants to take care of Nadia herself “For Arman” and she squeezes her eyes shut as she says his name… the grief of losing him is still so goddamn fresh and now she’s terrified she’s going to fail him by not being able to save Nadia in time. But that’s the thing about Thony– she never gives up on the people she loves. And because of Arman, that group includes Nadia.

Nadia’s reaction to Thony striding straight into her house (literally how does Thony even know where that is?) is so funny bc she doesn’t even get angry, it’s just like mild exasperation as she tries to convince Thony to leave. That is, until her brain catches up and suddenly she just stops and says “What’s happening?” because she knows Thony, knows that she wouldn’t actually barge in like this without a damn serious reason. When Thony tells her the danger she’s in, she believes her immediately (ugh her panic was hard to watch) and immediately begs for Thony to help– because while they may have a complex relationship, she knows that Thony is the only person she has left who actually cares what happens to her, and she also knows that Thony is clever and capable and holds a surprising amount of power, and often does manage to fix things even when a situation seems impossible. Which is exactly what Thony does next– and while I wish that Thony had explained to Nadia about what she was going to do, so Nadia didn’t have to have those brief moments of terror and betrayal before she lost consciousness, I get that it had to be written this way or it would have spoiled the twist. But oh man, even though I knew Thony wouldn’t kill her and that she was going to be fine, the relief at seeing her wake up on that couch was still so damn real, phew. Eva did an amazing job with Nadia’s emotions on waking up, from utter confusion to a mix of relief, gratitude and anger. The scene between her and Thony in Jeremy’s lair felt like it was cut off midway through, which I guess means that they’re going to pick up exactly where they left off in the finale next week, like this was actually a 3-part finale rather than a 2 parter, and I can’t wait to see more of the Nadia/Thony dynamic next week.

And given my love for both Nadia and Thony, gotta say I do love how much Ramona herself has shown genuine admiration for both women, for their competence, intelligence, determination, fortitude, their coolness under pressure, and their desire for power. (Like in her conversation with Ramona, Thony would always deny that desire, but tbh people who want a simple family life do not become cardiac surgeons. Much like being a cartel leader, it’s a profession that provides money, prestige, authority, and a near-godlike ability over life and death– ergo, power). Anyway, Ramona’s entire art collection, her life, is centred around women with those traits, and tbh in another life I think these three incredible women could have become an unbeatable team that ruled Vegas together. Ramona saw that possibility and tried to make it happen, only for both of them to reject her, and now… well, I think we are heading for a ‘this town ain’t big enough for the both of us’ situation, and lbr it’s going to be Thony that’s the one left standing

Honestly I love that I have written a bunch of words already for this ep, and it’s all been about women– that’s one of the true gifts of this show, how much it focuses on women and their stories and their relationships. In the earlier seasons it was mostly just focused around Thony and Fi’s characters, but after the loss of Adan, and having a female villain for a change (two if you count Russo), the focus on women has definitely expanded and been even more apparent this season. I’m sad that it’s looking unlikely that Ramona or my baby Nadia will return next season, because they deserved to have more of their story told. Still, I’m clinging to the hope that Nadia may somehow return, and I’ll get more of the amazing Thony & Nadia dynamic that we all deserve

Anyway I guess I could talk about a boy now– though given that he is literally surrounded by women in his life, Jorge is an honorary girl to me lol. It was cute to see him so excited about all the hotel stuff, from his big spiel to Nadia to all the proposal materials in his office– looks like he’s finally found his own path, not just the one Ramona chose for him. (Though holy shit it’s so messed up that the corporate world is literally the best place to hide illegal activity, wow). I found it hilarious that when Jorge was trying to sell Nadia on the hotel idea and saying all this stuff about how she’ll be the face of it etc, the picture very clearly shows he’s planning to call it ‘JS hotel’ lol. So she’s the face but it’s named after you?? Hmmm. Also geez he laid it on a little thick with the flattery there, but I guess it worked, because you could see how smitten she was with the hotel idea. And I can understand how some people might interpret that as her being smitten with him, but I genuinely don’t think so. First of all, she lost the man she loved literally like a week and a half ago; there’s no way that she has even the slightest inclination to look at anyone romantically right now. Plus, the show has already established that she’s incredibly good at reading people. She knows he’s trying to manipulate her in order to access her money, but in her life, that’s just a demonstration of good business skills. She sees what working with him can give her, and she wants it. In S1 she says to Arman “What do we own? Nothing”-- I think it’s hugely important to her character to actually be in possession of something big, to be the owner, not just the manager, to remove herself as far from the powerless girl from the Argentinian slums as she can. Anyway I love that one of his arguments is that she’ll be ‘set for life’ if they do this… because apparently already having 50 million dollars isn’t being set for life??? Man, what a world they live in haha. Anyway with it seeming unlikely that Nadia will be around next season, I wonder if the hotel will still somehow happen in S4? Maybe somehow Thony gets involved with it, though I don’t really see her wanting any part in something like that… tbh my main concern is that we might not get to see the La Habana set next season :(

Seeing Jeremy’s reaction to being burned was so satisfying. Not so clever now, are you, buddy?? Got outsmarted by a civilian just like Garrett did, and now you’ll be working with her, just like Garrett… but unlike Garrrett, she has zero regard or sense of obligation toward you, and so you may think she’s gonna work with you and follow your orders, but think again. She’s just going to bide her time until she has you right where she wants you, and then she will completely fuck you over, because you betrayed her family and took the man she loves, and that’s what you deserve. Be grateful if you walk out of all of this alive.

Other stuff:

Omg Fi going for the baseball bat to take out the smoke alarm. Someone has issues with impulsivity haha. Tbh her and Thony’s entire relationship is just the two of them taking turns holding each other back from doing something stupid and I love it

Ugh seeing Nadia standing all alone in that huge empty house, talking about how it’s time to put the past behind her and have a fresh start… and then later saying to Jorge that she just wants to be free… and then Thony telling her at the end that she’s free and she tells Thony that she took her whole life form her… ugh stop giving me stressful foreshadowing here writers. If Nadia has to go, write her out by having her run away into the sunset with her millions. Don’t make me watch her die twice!!!!!!!!!

I didn't initially remember seeing Ramona and Russo cross paths at La habana, but @gsue74 reminded me that they glimpse each other across the club the first time Ramona goes there, and Ramona noticed the way Nadia reacted to her arrival. Well done of the writers to plant that in 3x04 to come back up now. Anyway I do enjoy Russo’s sassiness though. It was never super obvious before bc she was always having to play the serious one keeping Garrett in line, but I think I see why they got along lol

Oh boy the agent that scared Violeta really fucked up lol, like maybe don’t piss off a super powerful cartel leader??? Dude’s gonna be feeding the fishes in the Hoover Dam in no time lol

I love that the proposed hotel site is completely in the middle of nowhere, like too bad if the guests want to visit any other part of Vegas haha. Though I guess that might be entire point, to make it like a one-stop shop so guests will spend all their time and money in the one place lol

JD is such a cutie. Loved him taking advantage of a free weekday to bring thoughtful gifts for his bae. Lol at Fi shutting him up with a kiss– she really needs to go somewhere private and tell him everything though, bc he needs to know so he doesn’t inadvertently screw things up for them again.

I really felt for Fi when she found the immigrant worker house empty– this show is always full of painful near-misses in terms of timing, but at least in this case there’s still the hope that Thony will be able to use her sway over Jorge to find Camila and Gisele

Anyway ugh the promo for the finale looks so good… Nadia at Thony’s house, wearing borrowed clothes while Thony makes a plan to get her her money back… Jorge apparently being there too and helping them… Thony in a fancy dress, shooting a gun… it might be Ramona’s assassin guy that she shoots (one of the clips looks like he could be fighting with Jeremy) but man it would be cool if it was actually Ramona or Jeremy that she shoots, and honestly I’m so down for either of those options. Maybe she even does it to protect one of them from the other– like maybe she shoots Ramona to save Jeremy, which would mean she’d probably get pardoned by the FBI for everything. Or she shoots Jeremy to save Ramona, making Ramona extremely grateful, and as a result Ramona makes sure the shooting never ties back to her, and brings her into Sin Cara in a position of power…. Either way it’s going to make for an interesting S4!

#The Cleaning Lady #TCL recaps #TCL spoilers #The Cleaning Lady spoilers #ugh my baby Nadia #all I want is to see Thony give you a hug

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