Tumgik
#pause goes for another one because its not really that bad... ... ...it is bad but not that much
sentientstump · 1 year
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hes doing the best he can
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so, this drink is made of milk (i havent decided if its from a horse or not. If it is, then its pretty strong) And when its an event you drink it from these three-legged (or one-legged) wooden beasts. Honestly, I've never tried myself "xD
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But you know what ive actually tried? Sorrel. I used to eat those a lot, peaceful times lol
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"Hello." A dull thwack sound reverberated across the rooftop, leaving the boy who snuck up on Red Robin clutching his head. The boy, a meta if the large animal ears and tail were anything to go by, shook off the pain and pouted up at him, "What was that for?!"
The vigilante was unrepentant, holding his bo staff in a ready position, "You snuck up behind a vigilante at night. In Gotham."
"Okay," the meta conceded, still pouting. "You have a point there. Robin threw ninja stars at me when I tried to approach Batman."
That got Tims attention, "You tried to approach Batman? Was there something you needed?"
The kid suddenly got serious, "My mom went missing. I haven't been able to contact her for almost two weeks now."
Red pulled his arm closer to his face before he began typing on his wrist computer, "Can you tell me her name and date of birth?"
"Um." The other teen fidgetted with his tail a bit, "Okay, so...she's kinda Cheetah."
"...come again?"
"She's Cheetah. The...the supervillian."
Red Robin stared at him, and honestly who could blame him? The bats hadn't even known Cheetah had a son. "So why are you in Gotham? Why not ask Wonder Woman for help? Cheetahs one of her rogues not ours."
The teen shook his head, "She went to meet someone in Gotham before she disappeared. She seemed really agitated before she left, almost scared. I've never seen her like that before." He paused, giving the vigilante time to type before continuing, "I didn't go Wonder Woman since I figured I would wind up needing to talk to a bat anyway since its your turf and all." He said, waving a hand as if gesturing to the city around them.
"I wasn't aware Cheetah had a kid."
The meta grimaced, "she didn't until a year ago."
Red gave him a look, as if urging him to go on.
The meta chuffed, sounding a lot like whatever big cat he was supposed to be, "I'll only tell you my tragic backstory if you promise to help me find my mom."
"I'll find your mom." The bird said without an ounce of hesitation. Tim was a little offended. Did this guy think he was going to leave his mom in danger just because she was a criminal? Appearently so, seeing as the teen looked so relieved at his words.
"Okay, so my bio parents were evil mad scientists. Always a bad start, anyway they were obsessed with the occult and one day they suddenly took me and my sister to Brazil to hunt for some artifact of another. That alone was strange but weirder still was the fact my creepy godfather was paying for it all. He usually only does something like that when he's plotting "
"Plotting?" The detective interjected, "you make it sound like he does that often."
"Yeah. Hes a supervillian." The meta said casually, as if he didn't just leave Tim reeling, but the kid wasn't done yet, "He's had a massive crush on my bio mom since collage and never let it go no matter how many times she rejected him. She even married my dad, his best friend, and this dude just kept simping for 20 years." The teen rolled his eyes, "Hes convinced himself that if he murders my bio dad then my bio mom will fall in love with him and me and jazz will be "his"." He said that last part with fingerqoutes and a disgusted expression.
Tim filed that away for later, "Can I have his name, if nothing else?"
The teen seemed reluctant for a moment, "You're the worlds greatest detectives. You'll find out even if i try to hide it. Besides, I'd probably be better off if you and the Justice League know everything anyway."
Tim was...surprised by that. Most people usually weren't this open with them.
"His name is Vlad Masters, he also goes by Plasmius when he's dressed like a wannabe vampire. He's a ghost who's repossessed his corpse. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton, who are obsessed with ghosts and have convinced themselves that all ghosts are evil and must be destroyed, regardless of how much evidence points to them being wrong."
"And your name?"
The meta grinned at him, showing off four very sharp fangs, reminiscent of the large cat he takes after, "You can call me Jaguar. We were exploring a bit when I broke off from my family and got jumped by one of them. Suddenly I was struck by a claw and turned into furry bait. Fluffy stopped trying to make me his lunch and just stared at me before walking away, which was wierd. Then my parents found me, accused me of being a ghost, because thats naturally what someone would assume when thier son sprouts cat ears," he said while rolling his eyes.
"Naturally." Red joked, which had the benefit of making Jaguar smile.
"So my parents chased me through the jungle, shooting all the while, then suddenly a portal opened up in front of me. I'm not stupid, I know there was no way this wasn't a trap. I mean, a portal opening up right after that bizarre series of events and its the same shade of glowing green as the wierd death go my parents are obsessed with? There's no way they weren't related somhow, but I was desperate and jumped through anyway."
"I landed in another jungle, or the same one in a different location, I'm not sure. I tried hunting and foraging but wasn't very successful at either." Danny still remembered the throbbed in his head when he had headbutt that tree after missing his pounce on that pig he had been stalking. "Thats when Cheetah found me. She took me in and taught me to hunt and fight."
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Possible plot twists:
1. Danny isnt Phantom in this au
2. Danny is Phantom in this au but is trying to leave that life behind
3. My favorite. Danny has the ability to manipulate and control animals into doing his bidding with the effect of jaguars and other big cats being the most prevalent and he just doesn't realize it.
One of Cheetahs friends/allies realizes cheetah has changed and suspected something and convinced her to leave for a while to see if her care for this kid faded after a while away from his presence. It works and Danny loses another parental figure/possibly attacked by them too.
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bg-brainrot · 1 month
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The Night They Slept Together
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Summary: Tav pines, and their relationship with Astarion shifts ever so slightly. (They literally do just sleep)
Tags: 2nd person POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Pining, light hurt and angst, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, coping with feelings, act 2, pre-confession
A/N: some light angst as Tav comes to term with their feelings but we already know where they end up, so it's okay, right? :D
Word count: ~2.1k
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Your tryst with Astarion should be over by now.
It was supposed to be a one off moment of passion, a way to destress after all of the danger you’d thrown yourselves into. He’d asked so easily, you’d agreed just as readily– a quick celebratory moment after defeating that goblin camp, when your spirits and libido were running high.
The second time? Well, that was easy to write off as well. You’d just fought off an entire creche, moving through it like a pair of practiced assassins, a synchrony you haven’t felt since– well, you’re not certainly you’ve ever felt so in sync with someone. Either way, it was another easy nod to his sly, questioning look. 
You’d had similar excuses for your first night in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, for the handful of midday, afternoon, midnight romps since.
It’s just a way for us to cope with the situation at hand, nothing more, nothing less, you’d told yourself.
That is, until you’d realized that it wasn’t just that. Not to you. 
Oh gods, I love this insane vampire.
The night you’d realized that everything had changed.
What had begun as a distraction for you both, had turned into a poison– one slowly working its way through your system, incapacitating you piece by piece at the thought of another night falling into his arms, sinking deeper into the throes of an impossible love. 
After all, what is this other than convenient? And if you continued to be a mere convenience to him, well, you doubt that this would end well for you. It’s high time that you cut off the source of this poison before it festers too far. Before it grips your vulnerable, aching heart.
That’s what you’d told yourself, but you’re finding it so much harder to cut off the source when he’s standing right in front of you, waiting for you with a smirk toying along the edge of his mouth, an eyebrow raising suggestively as his voice lowers to a sultry invitation. 
You’d come by his tent to say goodnight. Maybe, ‘Good job today.’ Any excuse to see him really, but now you’re met with a challenge.
Astarion’s words don’t make it much easier either.
“Oh my dear, you look positively wound-up after today’s bouts. Care for a little… unwinding?”
His voice drips with promise, with want, with a feeling that echoes through your own traitorous core. But, like a sweet that’s overstayed its welcome, it seems too tacky, hardening into something utterly indigestible.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask, eying him carefully, fighting down your own building desires.
“Why shouldn’t it be?” he asks, a raised brow lowering in uncertainty. 
You hesitate, unsure how much truth you’re willing to part with. Certainly not, ‘Because I may have accidentally fallen in love with you.’ And you don’t want to shove him out of your life unceremoniously either. Just… to slow down, allow your heart time to adjust– to get over him, if need be.
After a pause that goes on for a second too long, you finally settle on, “It just seems as if we’ve already had plenty of ‘fun’, don’t you think?”
Astarion’s small smirk drops, a dark look entering his eyes as he registers your words, how they directly counter his own from your first night together. How they fall between you with the full weight of rejection. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown shy now, darling?” he says, voice a bit sharper than what you’re used to.
You’d known that trying to slow down wouldn’t be easy, but his downturned lips make you want to take back your words, dive back into the intoxicating miasma of his cold embrace. But you also know that if you don’t stand your ground now, you’re liable to fall too far too fast.
“Not shy per say,” you respond, measuring your words carefully. “Merely wondering if that’s what you want.”
Astarion seems no more placated by these words than your earlier ones. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t want this?”
Fear born of your heart, insecurity born of your nerves, damned logic born of your head– there are really so many reasons he wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want you. But you don’t want to be too transparent, not when this adventure could all be over very soon. You say as much.
“Well, our days could be numbered.” Then your lips continue. “Perhaps there is someone else you would rather be unwinding?” The question slips out of you, an unbidden, unwelcome concern courtesy of the fear building in your chest.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, response quick, tone biting. His lips are pressed in a tight line, the muscles in his neck tense as he clenches his jaw.
Gods, you’d known your heart would lead you astray. Here you are, facing an Astarion unlike any that had made a home in your bedroll. An Astarion made of sharp edges and cutting words. Expression closed, mouth a tight line, you find his change in demeanor aggravating. You bristle at his accusation. “No, Astarion. I don’t want that. If I did, I wouldn’t be here, speaking with you. Though you’re making me regret doing that much now.”
He tilts back at your words, leaning back on the heels of his feet as if thrown off balance. “Then why did you even come over? To reject me then to–to taunt me?”
You had meant to do none of that. Really, you’d only come over out of habit, to see him, to… spend time with him. But it’s hard to say so without being entirely too forthcoming with your feelings. You wish that you could put your feelings into words, however it’s your burden to bear, not his. He has more than enough on his plate between the Absolute and Raphael’s deal. 
So you shake your head at him. “I didn’t mean to reject you, Astarion. I hadn’t come here for sex at all.”
Once more, he asks the question you do not want to answer. “Then why did you even come over?”
You could lie. It’s as easy as breathing for you– it’s how you and Astarion had grown so close so quickly. You should lie, you tell yourself. But one look into his crimson, pleading eyes and the lie dies on your lips.
He looks hurt. So genuinely confused at your presence in front of him, deeply convinced that you could only be here for one thing and one thing only. And you know then that you can’t lie.
“I wanted to see you,” you say, the honest words tightening your throat on their way out, You haven’t told him how you feel, but you may as well have, with the way the words sound utterly, sinfully soft, a secret lost on the cold wind of the Shadow-Cursed night.
“You… wanted to see me?” he repeats, tone losing all of its edge, losing any of its structure at all.
You nod silently, uncertain if more words would help or hurt the situation.
To that, Astarion only blinks. His mouth opens, head tilting in that cautiously inquisitorial way, as he asks, “And then what?”
There was no ‘and then’ in your mind. Merely the need to see him, spend time with him, even after spending an entire dark, dreary day with him. But you suppose he wouldn’t understand that if you said it. So you need to come up with something concrete, a reason to be here beyond words…
“I was wondering if you wanted to share a bedroll tonight. To sleep,” you say, infusing enough confidence in your words that you can hardly note the nerves. You expect Astarion wouldn’t notice them at all. 
His defenses noticeably drop, his shoulders sagging in relief, and a sigh escapes him as he shakes his head at you wryly. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, darling? I understand that not everyone has my stamina, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
You want to roll your eyes, defend your honor as it hangs on by a thread, but you’ve narrowly avoided disaster and you’re not proud enough to ruin that. Instead you play into the role, ignoring the dull twinge that twists through your heart. “I wasn’t sure you would be so magnanimous,” you say, giving him the slightest bow of your head. “I should have known.”
“That you should have,” he says with a breathy laugh and he sounds almost… relieved?
More than anything, you want to ask him, why? Are you relieved that my feelings have stayed silent? That this thing between us remains uncomplicated? That you don’t have to find yourself a new distraction?
But your questions stay just as buried as your feelings do.
Your damnable feelings, which seem to threaten to burst out each time his eyes linger too long, with every touch you weren’t expecting. It must be a talent, holding them in as you do now.
They stay hidden as he extends a hand to you, inviting you into his tent with a warm smile and a, “Shall we?”
You keep them dormant as you follow, tucking your head into the now-familiar red structure, narrowly avoiding the mess he’s left inside. 
They almost slip to the surface as he pulls you down onto his lap, and a heat rises between you as natural as steam from a hot spring.
It’s an invitation, of course. One last effort from Astarion for something more tonight, for you to be won over by his beauty and charm. But there’s nothing to be won over because you are already his.
You wish he could tell, from your drunken declarations, from the way you’ve made a second home in his arms. Maybe he can tell, but refuses to acknowledge it– you could hardly blame him if that were to be the case. But you also can’t blame yourself for barely holding back.
Even now, seated in his lap, staring into his mesmerizing red eyes, you’re not certain you could trust a single word that comes out of your lips. So you throw every word you’ve ever known, could ever know, to the wayside. And simply kiss him.
You press your lips to his slowly, contact feather-light as you balance on his thighs. Bracing yourself with a hand on his chest, you lean in, locking your lips together fully. 
They move together easily, dance partners on a familiar dance floor, to a practiced tune, but when you think of all of the things you wish you could say, an urgency rises in you– a deep-seated need to tell him how you feel, even if only through this.
So you kiss him harder, your hands holding him all the tighter. You kiss him with every word unspoken, every intangible feeling rising in your chest, every single ounce of you that he’s already won, if only he were willing to claim it.
Astarion moves to deepen the kiss, placing a hand on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back, not understanding where your desperation comes from. Misunderstanding your intent altogether. 
Of course, what was I thinking? you wonder to yourself as you pull away, panting lightly. That some magical kiss could make this man realize my feelings, could make him love me back?
But you’re not in some copper novel. This man harbors no hidden feelings for you. Only a deep need to lose himself, and you happen to be the person he’s chosen to do that with.
So, despite the confusion in his face, you crawl off of his lap. Despite the way his hand trails along your side as you lay down, you don’t get back up. You merely say, “It’s getting late, we should get some rest.”
Astarion murmurs his agreement, but you can hear the reluctance in his tone, see the bewildered expression on his face as he lies down, all of his clothing still covering his body. 
You could laugh at the absurdity of it all, how unnerved he is, how deeply your chest aches– gods, this didn’t go well at all. But you don’t laugh. Only a sigh escapes you as you wrap your arms around him, as you press your body to his with all of the affection you cannot contain.
His arms stumble, they falter, but they find their way around you as well. An awkward embrace from a man who has no clue how he’s arrived at this point.
It’s difficult at a moment like this to remember that you shouldn’t love this man. That there are a dozen reasons to tamp down your feelings, a dozen more to run away. This was never supposed to be more than a single night of fun.
But, face tucked into the crook of his neck, hands clutching his loose shirt, nose filled with his carefully curated scent– you can almost pretend that this is real.
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yaut-jaknowit · 6 months
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Hi! I like you, you seem so cool. Such a vibe.
So, i might end up writing this eventually BUT the writers block has locked barricaded and blown up any entrance to writing anything beyond poetry for the past numerous months and, honestly, I don't think she (gn) is willing to open up. We've gone to therapy. But she just says she needs time. 🙄 . ANYWAYS, I had this idea, right? Reader and a Yautja who are mates/soulmates, and he is NOT for it. Big no no time. Shuts them down and pushes them away. Thing is, while the pull towards them is intense for him, he doesn't realize that for humans it's, like, a painful experience. They can go a bit without being near their soulmate once they find them, but months? *years*?? Eventually he goes back to earth and something pulls him to go check in them and finds them an absolute wreck. Chronic pain, maybe some of that ✨️classic substance abuse✨️, and absolutely heartbroken because their *soulmate* didn't even want them.
And... that's where the little writer part of my brain walks away.
Anyways, maybe one day I'll write this, but the ADHD part of my brain wants the gratification my writer part just isn't interested in entertaining.
I'd love to see your twist on it, if you'd be interested! If not, I get it (not every request peaks our interest and that's valid, but thought I'd share).
P.S. I just heard an owl for the first time in AGES. Really cool.
Are We Meant to be?
Pairing: Yautja x GN!Reader
Word Count: 2031
Summary: On a walk home from work in a city that wasn't friendly, you stupidly decide to take a shortcut. A shortcut that could cost you your life...
Author Note: Thank you! I'm glad I have good vibes! I might be falling into writers block... Towards the end, it was hard to figure out what to write but I hope this is good for you! I wanted to give you a start so you can finish it yourself!
Masterlist
Ao3
When you find your soulmate, it’s said that fireworks go off in your stomach. Then, life is a happy fairytale afterwards. Both souls are drawn to each other by an invisible string. Over time, they’ll be pulled to one another until they meet. From there, life is filled with happiness and complete. You are at height of your life with your soulmate.
So why was the universe cruel to you?
In the concrete jungle that made up your city filled to the brim of people and constant death, you raced back to your little apartment. The minute place you’ve carved out for yourself in a city like this. Something told you to be here, to stay here, no matter what happens. Just a tiny feeling in your cold, hope-filled heart. Maybe, just maybe your soulmate was here. So you endured the life you’ve created here and waited.
Waited for that faithful day they would stumble across your path and boom! Fireworks.
This was a bad idea, your brain shouted as you turned into a dark ally. It was a short cut that would shave off about five minutes. Five minutes closer to your studio apartment. Or lose your life.
A dark figure stepped out from the shadows. In the limited light, you see the way a blade reflects. Shit. Cursing internally, you skid to a stop and started to walk backwards towards the safety of the public street. But footsteps behind you had you pausing where you stood. More curses flew around in your brain as any logical thought.
Nothing needed to be said as you stared down the figure before you. This wasn’t unusual for a city like this. They wanted money, your money. Yet, you didn’t have much on you to offer. Probably only two dollars and nineteen cents in your pocket. Definitely not enough to quell them.
Before you had a chance to even inhale and speak, the person before you collapsed to the ground with nothing but little more than a squeak. A hunking form towering over his crumbled body. Your jaw dropped at the size of this figure. Your heart stutter in its bony cage as you were pinned to the spot like your shoes were welded there.
The string in your chest yanked hard directly in front of you. Your eyes couldn’t expand anymore at the feeling.
With nothing more but a breeze, the shadow zipped past you. You spun around to keep an eye on whatever had attacked your own attackers. Now that it was closer to the street lamps, you were able to pick up flashes of what it looked like. Yet, your brain couldn’t comprehend who this figure that moved in a blink of an eye was. You’ve never seen anyone move like that before. It couldn’t be possible.
A sick snapping echoed through the alleyway that had you tensing. The second attacker fell to the ground, unmoving. Finally, your shoes unpolarized from the dirty concrete but stepped away from the towering form that casted a long shadow. The head barely touching the tips of your toes. You swallow thickly and ignored the way your heart pounded heavily. It wanted freedom, wanted to rip out and go towards it.
He lifted his head. What could you see were long, thick… dreads? swaying as he shook his head. Metal, shining ornaments were attached to them. His form, larger than any man you’ve met before stood there. Only one arm moving, bending at the elbow. You couldn’t see what he was doing. You felt a fluttering feeling in your chest.
The figure whipped around with a snarl that echoed back at you. All you could see was emotionless eyes before it was upon you.
Your back slammed into the brick wall but a hand cushioned the back of your head. A gasp tore from your throat then your vision settled to take in the sight. He had pounced on you, pinned you to the alleyway wall, all the while breathing heavily. A hand had captured your neck, to ensure you stayed there, trapped.
Even with the knowledge this unknown figure might had just killed two people, your body was warm, lax underneath him. Your brain should’ve been screaming danger of the situation but all it sung was safety. A melody you couldn’t tell was true or not from the logical side of your brain. Yet, you couldn’t dispute the hot flash of an connection that struck you deep in your stomach at just his touch.
“Y-you…” he forced out in a guttural, gravely voice. This close to him, you realize he was wearing a mask, metal by the looks of it. “Not po-possible.” Your brows furrowed at his barely audible words. What did he mean?
Timidly, you reached out and rested your palm on his chest. He was incredibly hot, temperature wise. You felt a sort of netting there. He hissed, like a cat, and slipped the hand behind your head to snatch your wrist. It was pinned above your head. “No.” It was hard to understand what he was saying.
Not an ounce of fear entered your body as he continues to pin you there. Yet, your voice was caught behind a lump. So many questions fluttered around inside of your head but all you could do was stare into the emotionless eyes of his mask.
As if you had burned him, he ripped himself away from you within a blink of any eye. It left you feeling unsteady and almost falling to the ground. You saw for a moment he reached out to help you before letting the limb fall to his side.
Then, he was gone. In a small flash of blue, his form disappeared completely. Yet, you could feel him standing there, like a ghost to haunt you.
The walk home was confusing.
Blaring noises, inundated scents. Everything that a newly blooded would not be able to handle. Through the thick of it, the hunter waited in the shadows for the perfect moment. His ears picking up every little noise yet filtering them until he felt a pull. This pique his interest. A feeling he’s never felt before. His eyes closed as it persisted inside of him, his chest tightening.
A huff sounded from his mask he stood up, long legs stretching after being in a crouch position for so long. The Yautja cracked his neck a couple of times before beginning his trek through the concrete jungle. He allowed the tug to guide him over buildings as if he back on his home planet. It took him from one side of the city hundreds of thousands of oomans resided in all the way to the other side.
All of his moves were smooth, agile. He knew where and how to land before he was going to. His body going through the motion like a thousand times beforehand. His feet never making a sound. His breaths steady, confident. He loved this, the movement, the rise of adrenaline. That extra energy that filled his system.
The pads of his feet let him land silently on the edge of a building. The pull taking his straight down. He stopped and peered over the edge… to find three measly oomans. The heavy scent of fear permeated the air. He drank in the smell and watched the scene unfold before his bright eyes.
At the sight of ooman between the two male had his quills bristling at the sight. With his cloak deactivated, the Yautja stepped off from the edge. His entire body landed on top of one ooman, simply crushing it underneath his feet like the scum it was. Its frame making a sickening sound he could care less about to think of.
He launched himself at the other ooman. No mercy. A hand wrapped around the ooman’s throat while the other wrapped around its head. Only an ounce of his strength was extruded as he snapped the neck of this low life. Its body dropped to the dirty floor of this noisy, death filled city.
Beneath the thick scales that covered his chest, a strange feeling bloomed. It was the same notion from before. Pulling him backwards. He raised a hand to graze over the spot, deep in thought.
A snarl ripped at his throat. He whipped around to face the only other living thing in this dark path. The biomask that covered his face scanned over the little ooman left in his presence. Weapons, nonthreatening, adorn its small body. He wasn’t intimidated by them. He could scoff at how unprotected it was in a place like this.
He was upon the ooman in a second, ramming them into a brick. One hand coming around to cradle the back of its head while the other swiftly encased your neck. The Yautja gave it no room for escape.
His entire body tensed as the feeling tenfolded, eyes widening behind his mask. He didn’t know what was happening. Unlike any other time he’s had a ooman in his grasp, you didn’t move, you were like water in his grasp.
Tales as old as time sprung to life in his mind. “Y-you,” he grumbled in the ooman’s dialect. It hurt his throat to speak the language but he wasn’t going to waste a translator on you. He couldn’t… couldn’t. His heart, his mighty heart pulled, fluttered even, at your proximity and touch. “Not po-possible.” He hated the ooman languages.
The ooman’s face turned sour with confusion. He watched as you raised a hand to his chest, where his heart beats. A hiss surged past his mandibles. With a hand, he snatched your wrist and pinned it above your head harshly. Hopefully, you would learn a lesson. Not a single waft of terror rolled from your tiny, fragile body.
It jerked at his heart harder. In an instant, the Yautja yanked himself away from you with disgust. Yet, the way you stumbled from the lack of a steady body to protect you, he moved to help you. Halfway through the motion, he paused, arms falling to his sides. He needed to leave. Now.
A simple button had his cloak reactivating and gone from your sight. His feet were cemented in place right before you. You could still feel him, standing there. He observed you after you finally ripped yourself from the wall and began the trek of wherever you were heading.
Like your shadow, he followed you. All the way, even as you opened a door to a dingey old building and up the stairs. The Yautja followed your every move even as you prepared for bed and laid down. He watched you struggle to find comfort, kicking, squirming, and shivering. The distress clearly evident. Strangely enough, he wanted nothing more to march into your room and comfort you. But, the Yautja stayed.
When he knew it was time to become homebound, the Yautja gave you one last look. Days in, days out, he’s been your shadow, observing your every move. For the fifteen rotations of your planet, he’s been there. He didn’t allow himself to be seen, by anyone. Including yourself. He was there though.
.
Sleeping was difficult. A struggle to find peace within the storm raging inside of you now. It felt a door had been opened and couldn’t be shut. You felt incomplete now. A distraught noise escaped your lips as you fulfilled your worthless job. You leaned heavily on the counter with a sigh, eyes shutting. All you saw through the darkness was flashes of that night.
The night were everything changed.
On the day afterwards, you took an unfortunate day off from work. As much as you needed the money, research was needed to be done. For the entire day, you searched through every article possible about soulmates. Everything. You also dug into anything that was close to whatever had… saved you. It had saved you then disappeared. But it left behind a feeling that was consuming you every thought.
Was this what it felt like to be abandoned? You whined at the thought and opened your eyes. Work needed to be done. If only you knew the consequences.
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Innocent and shy masc reader has an incredibly dirty search history and an even worse taste in porn, has a large collection of order receipts from bad dragon. Cypher goes snooping and finds this all out? They have a little "chat" about network security -🐩
this is like my biggest fear except with my parents accidentally opening one of my packages. its either shampoo or a toy gnmsfgns
cw: suggestive, mentions of Corn, technically kind of cyberstalking? it's cypher what do u expect
wc: 718
It's late when you hear a soft knock at your door. You put your phone down on the bed, wondering who's on the other side of the door, especially at this hour. You hope it isn't a call for a last minute mission- the last thing you want right now is to be in a plane in a matter of minutes, geared up to fight.
When you open the door, you're greeted to the sight of a familiar beige figure, standing just a little too close. Cypher never seemed to mind getting in other people's space as long as he was the one doing it; invade his and he'd scamper off in seconds. His blue mechanical eyes scan over you quickly, though in a way that reminds you of someone checking for weapons rather than looking appreciatively.
"I need to talk to you about something," the man chirps, inviting himself inside your room before you can say anything. He slides by you with a careful hand on your shoulder, the leathery material of his gloves cool against your skin. You flush a little at the contact, fleeting but strangely electrifying. You shut your door behind him, folding your arms over your chest as you turn around to face him. You assume he's going to ask for a favour of some kind, or he wants to steal a piece of machinery from you, again, but you're really not in the mood to humour his requests, tired, and a little cranky because of it. Cypher pauses for a moment, hand half-raised in the air like he's trying to figure out exactly what he wants to say. "You know that I am very technology proficient, yes?"
You nod, frowning at the opening. He's usually pretty straightforward when he's asking for something.
"Come on, everyone knows to delete it afterwards. Are you trying to tease me?" Cypher's voice is smooth, peppy and cheerful but calculated, any hint of hesitancy gone. He's talking to you the same way he chides his opponents in a fight he's already won. The realisation sends a shiver up your spine- he knows something that either you don't know or don't want him to know. But you have an inkling, a gut feeling, that it's something you didn't want him to know. Not yet, anyways.
"What are you talking about?" You try, a little too quick to appear genuinely confused. Cypher's head only tilts minutely.
"You're too smart to be playing dumb. I mean, really?" Cypher scoffs, taking a few steps forwards, forcing you to take one back to maintain a semblance of distance between you two. "Looking up Moroccan models?" Another step forward, and your back brushes against the wall next to the door. "Picturing me as any one of them, hm?" Another step, and there's barely any space between you, and you want to die.
You hadn't intended for him to see any of that- although that meant he was snooping around your private search history, a whole other issue to tackle- but you also hadn't not intended for him to see any of that. It was a blurred line, your attraction to Cypher.
"'dirty talk in arabic'?" He has the decency to stifle a laugh, which only makes your face flush deeper, embarrassment, shame, and something else washing over you. "Mm, not to mention your purchasing history. Dirty, dirty, dirty boy," he clicks his tongue. "I thought you were all sweet, not so perverted."
You finally find your voice, the tips of your ears burning at this point. "I'm not the one snooping around in other people's stuff!" You tout back, a weak deflection.
"I'm not the one imagining their coworker is fucking them."
"Shut up!" You groan, really wishing with all your heart that you could be anywhere but here.
Cypher's beady blue eyes lift with a mirth you can sense through his mask. "Ohhh... but you like it. You're so red," and this time he does chuckle, mean and condescending, and damn if it doesn't send a little jolt of warmth through you, the idea that that little laugh is just for you to hear. "How about this: You show me which videos you like, and I'll give you a... personal lesson in how to delete your search history. How does that sound?"
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freedomfireflies · 1 year
Text
iFall For Harry
Part Two to this request!
Summary: Turns out, the stranger in your phone is kind of funny...
...and kind of sexy, too.
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Oh, my god. 
Harry, did you hear the news?
It takes exactly three and a half minutes for those familiar little bubbles to pop up.
Well hello to you, too. 
No, what happened?
You struggle to contain a rather giddy grin as you begin to type, A cheese factory exploded in France!
Wait, really? Shit, what happened?
I don’t know. But all that was left was…de brie.
Exactly sixty seconds pass before he begins to type.
Fuck.
I think I just snorted. 
That was…goddammit that was good.
You don’t even know what he looks like, but you chuckle at the idea of him laughing so hard he can’t help but snort.
Thank you, thank you. 
Took me two weeks to come up with that.
I’m impressed. 
Little offended, too.
Oh? Your heart sinks.
Yeah. 
Kept me on the edge of my seat for two fucking weeks wondering if I’d hear from you again.
Shit. 
You smirk to yourself as you flop down onto your sofa and think through a response.
Hey, it takes two to tango, pal. You could have texted me, too.
The bubbles make your heart pound.
Alright, that’s fair. 
In my defense, I didn’t have any more cheese puns.
Oh, is that all this is, then? 
You just use me for dad jokes?
Psh, nooooooo…
Then, another text.
Although, the jokes do make my days…cheddar.
 You laugh a little louder, suddenly very aware of the flush in your face over some stranger in your phone. 
No, wait. How do I erase a text?
I hated that. 
Seriously, how do I make it go away? 
My failure is staring me in the face, and I hate it.
You giggle under your breath.
Easy, Grandpa. 
Relax, just press down until the options pop up.
The conversation goes quiet for a brief moment before you watch his previous text vanish from the screen with a dramatic, poof!
Then, he begins typing again.
Hold on… 
Did you just call me Grandpa?
…psh, noooooooo
Oh, so that’s how it is?
That’s how it is.
Wow, and we had such a nice thing going, too.
To be fair, you never told me your age, and you don’t even know how to delete a text. 
What am I supposed to think?
First of all: rude. 
Respect your elders.
Second of all: this deleting shit is NEW, okay, and I just updated my phone, like…a week ago, so I never learned. 
Uh-huh. 
No, yeah, whatever you say, Grandps.
He responds with the emoji that’s rolling its eyes.
You smirk.
For your information, I’m 29.
Okay, which is a cool, hip, fun, and very fresh age.
Yes, I believe that’s the slogan for the retirement home, too. 
“We’re cool, we’re slick, and we might break a hip.”
There’s a longer pause between your text and his response. You hope it’s because he’s laughing. It’s not your best work, but you think it’s funny.
And then, you get the notification.
Dammit, that place sounds so much cooler than the retirement home I’m in now. 
Send me the address? I’ll wheel myself over.
You got it, Old Man. Will you need any help crossing the street?
How thoughtful of you. Yeah, that’d be great, and then you can finally earn your Girl Scout badge.
Oh, my God. How did you know it was the last one I needed?
Cause I’m old. And therefore wise.
Oh, right, right. No, that checks out.
Yeah. 
You lean back, forcing your eyes away from your phone to finally get a moment of reprieve from the excessive smiling. Why is this so fun?
I guess 29 isn’t so bad. Just…three years older than me.
Ah, another piece to the Cheese Girl puzzle. 
You’re 26.
Indeed.
26 was fun. 
I liked 26.
Yeah, it’s not too bad so far.
Just wait until your bones start to creak whenever you get out of bed.
I’ll keep a can of oil on my nightstand.
You grimace to yourself. Your worst joke to date, and you just hope you haven’t blown it.
Probably smart. 
My preferred method is lube, but…
Whatever works.
Your eyes widen.
Oh?
Yeah.
 My bones might creak but at least I can still fuck.
Well…shit.
You readjust your position on the sofa, desperately working to find a cool and relaxed and equally mysterious reply.
…so, no pressure.
Just be careful with all that lube. 
Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall.
Hope you’ve got Life Alert on speed dial.
Oh, I absolutely do. They love me over there.
You smirk to yourself, fighting yet another laugh. 
Yeah? Thank God.
Boy, I bet you’re a real stud with the ladies, huh?
Damn fucking right. 
This grandpa has moves.
I bet. Yeah, women love a man that squeaks when he thrusts.
They do, actually. I happen to squeak quite sensually.
Is that right?
It is.
Damn.
Might need to hear that for myself someday.
It was bold. Perhaps a little daring, and you don’t give yourself a chance to overthink it before turning your phone off and tossing it onto the other side of the sofa.
You give it five minutes before checking to see if he’s replied.
Thankfully, you have two notifications, delivered 3 minutes ago.
Yeah?
So what’s stopping you?
What is stopping you?
Probably a number of things, but instead of pointing out that he’s a complete stranger and could very well be a catfish (or even worse…that he might not even find you attractive) you decide to go with another joke.
All these Girl Scout cookies I gotta sell :/
Shit.
Yeah.
What if I bought a hundred boxes?
Then you’d have to hand deliver them to my door, right?
Your eyes roll playfully as you sigh.
That IS the Girl Scout policy, yes.
We pride ourselves on good service.
Fantastic, then I’ll take 100 boxes in the flavor of you.
Your lashes flutter as you reread the text, over, and over, and over. But before you can spiral…he’s sending another.
…shit, that was meant to be smooth.
Get it, cause…like, you know, get a taste of YOU. Like…if you were a cookie. 
Cause…I wanna taste you…
Explaining it makes it worse, doesn’t it?
 It should make it worse, but for some reason…he’s funny? And charming? And making your thighs squeeze together—
I think that can be arranged, yeah.
I’ll package them up nice and pretty, just for you.
Equally as cheesy, but apparently…cheese is where you both shine.
You hope he’s at least somewhat amused, and when he finally responds, your stomach flips.
This conversation is bad for my health.
Yeah?
Why’s that?
Because I’m in a meeting and I’m about to have a heart attack.
…why are you about to have a heart attack?
Oh, right. I forgot that happens at your old age.
Ha.
Funny.
Good thing you have Life Alert on speed dial.
Yeah, I don’t think Life Alert is gonna be able to help.
No? Why not?
Cause only one thing can save me now.
Cookies.
Your cookies.
To be exact.
See? Cheesy.
Wow, I was almost turned on and then…
Nope, there it goes.
Oh, is that what we’re doing? We’re trying to turn each other on?
Well, why didn’t you SAY so?
Hold on, I’ve got a few good ones.
Oh god.
Alright, here we go.
So…
What are you wearing?
…really? That’s all you’ve got?
Work with me please.
My gosh.
Clothes.
I have clothes on.
Yeah?
That’s a shame.
Two minutes go by without him adding anything else, and you can’t help but laugh when you realize that’s all he’s got.
Wowwwwww…
No, that was so good. I’m…holy shit, you just took my breath away. I’m so turned on right now.
I mean, my panties just FLEW across the room!
You’re THAT good!
Okay, very funny. 
I wasn’t done.
No, really. You gotta warn a girl before you just completely rock her world like that.
Honestly, I feel a little faint.
Where did you learn such a masterful technique? Really, you should teach a class on sexting, cause that was just…phew.
Listen, I was just trying to take it easy on you.
You know, ease you into my seduction before I gave it to you good and hard.
The last bit of his sentence has you stumbling over a gasp, but you simply clear your throat and work to find a response.
You have two options:
Either you tease him a bit more…
…or you ramp up the tension.
Well, by all means, Harry…
Give it to me good.
And hard.
He doesn’t respond for quite some time to this. And while you’d like to tell yourself that it’s because he’s just so turned on by your response…
…it’s more likely that you definitely fucked up and he wants nothing more to do with you.
But then…your phone dings.
Is that what you want then, hm?
Want it rough?
Shit, shit, shit.
Yeah.
If you think you can keep up.
Trust me, sweetheart, that won’t be a problem.
If you want it rough, I’m more than happy to oblige.
Is that why you texted me today?
Needed my help?
Truth be told, you don’t know why you texted him today, but you certainly aren’t upset with how things are going.
Me? Needing YOUR help?
Cute, but I think my fingers and I can manage just fine.
His response comes so fast, your head spins:
…fuck.
You smile.
Shit, okay now this conversation is REALLY bad for my health.
I might keel over right here in this meeting.
My death is on your hands, Cheese Girl.
Worth it.
You watch the bubbles float onto your screen for a good thirty seconds before they disappear.
Then, they appear again…just to dissipate before you can get your hopes up.
Finally—finally…a text.
Okay, listen, you don’t know me.
And I don’t know you.
I get that.
I’m a stranger, you’re a stranger.
But…
And hear me out…
What would you say to a phone call?
Your pulse stutters as you stare at his proposition, but he’s already sending his next text before you can decide if you’re really that stupid or not.
I know that’s asking a lot, but…
If you promise that you aren’t a 90-year-old man, and I promise I’m not some kid playing video games in his mom’s basement…
We could at least…have a real conversation.
And make sure that we really are who we say we are, you know?
And I could be assured that I didn’t just get a fucking boner in the middle of a busy boardroom cause of some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.
You hesitate.
Despite yourself, you are intrigued by the idea.
Worst-case scenario if he is some loser…you can just hang up and block his number.
And if he’s not…and he’s half as hot as you’re starting to hope he is…
You swallow.
Thickly.
I am not some perverted, internet creep that makes cheese jokes.
I’m just a regular creep that makes cheese jokes.
Promise.
And…yeah. 
I would be okay with a phone call.
As long as you do in fact promise I won’t regret it and that it won’t result in nightmares that haunt me for the rest of my life.
Ah, well…
Can’t say much for the regret…
But I do promise that I will try very hard not to give you nightmares.
God, are you really doing this?
Are you really doing this?
Alright, then…
Oh, so you’re doing it. You’re really that dumb. You really just let a complete stranger convince you to call him, even though he could be a serial killer, or a psycho, or—
Your phone rings.
You see his name pop up in large print as the cellphone just about flies out of your hand.
Scrambling to keep it steady, you lurch forward and collect a deep breath.
You can do this.
You can do this.
You’ll give him thirty seconds. And if he seems creepy…you’ll hang up, and you’ll move on.
And you’ll never get random boys in bars numbers again.
You press your thumb into the button on your screen and slide it to the right.
Here goes nothing.
“…hello?”
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~ iFall for Harry pt. 3 (the third part to this!)
~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist
~ More Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
Tag List:
@tinyhrry @supersanelyromantic @lomlhstyles
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the-doomed-witch · 2 years
Text
✦ You’re An Idiot & I Love You
Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
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Summary: After Thanos, you and Wanda quit the team to live a peaceful life together, trying to leave behind the trauma. (Read warnings)
Word Count: 4.0k
Author’s Note: hello here’s another fic, i’ve been working on it since almost a week :) i cannot stop listening to 305 by shawn mendes so i based the latter part of this fic on the song <3 the initial part is just a vent fic lmao. i’m thinking of writing a part two, but i don’t really know. my gif btw!
Warnings: 18+ MINORS+MEN DNI. traumatic past events, post-war trauma, flashbacks & nightmares, smut, thigh riding, fingering, praise kink, names (princess), a little angst, fluffy | best friends to lovers
Masterlist
YOU ARE NOT PERMITTED TO REPOST OR COPY MY WORK.
— ✦ —
You hit the pause button on your phone, look at the clouds and sigh. The park near your home is an amazing place to be, with all its flora, and a clearer view of the sky. Cities are so full of buildings, it’s almost impossible to see a clear sky outside the park anymore.
Whenever anxiety comes over, sitting on the park bench and listening to white noise helps you calm down. It also helps Wanda know where to take you when you aren’t at your best.
Sometimes she would hold your hand and sit next to you, listening to the same sound in a different pair of headphones. It’s truly therapeutic for both of you. The events of the past few years have been deeply disturbing for the entire team of Avengers. So you and Wanda decided to quit the team, and swore that both of you wouldn’t never exercise your powers again. Of course, there could be exceptional cases where the use of powers is ultimately the only way, but it’s mostly nothing to do with your simple lives.
Wanda goes to a therapist sometimes, and has offered you to try it out too, several times. You just deny with a simple shake of your head, and keep the topic aside. You’re happy to see her get better, settle her unsolved traumas, and accept Vision’s death.
“I knew you’d be here.” Wanda walks up to you, which is also the reason why you clicked the pause button. You give her a sincere smile, which she returns happily.
“Guess I’ve developed a little longing for this place. I can’t help but be here, I feel the safest here when you aren’t around.”
“Oh Y/N, you know I always come back home and always will. You’re my best friend, and the only one. I’m so happy that living together has worked out for the both of us.”
“So am I, Wands. I know I don’t have to run around the compound looking for you anymore.” Smiling with melancholy, you continue, “I miss bumping into our friends while doing that.”
She sighs deeply. There are memories of Vision in her mind, but they don’t feel like a dagger anymore. They are just bittersweet feelings for a star-crossed love. “Y/N, it’s been years since we left the team. Do you think they miss us? I wish we had parted with no hard feelings.”
“I think that it’s fine. It’s been years, nothing big has happened. And I hope it only stays this way. I don’t care if someone is still pissed off after so long, the war damaged us just as it did them, and we are still recovering.”
“But Y/N… you’re just refusing it all. There’s no point in being delusional. It’s affecting you, and your mental health in a really bad way.”
“I know but I cannot help it Wanda! I have had nothing before the Avengers, I don’t even know what I am grieving for. I haven’t had anyone to go home to since forever, and now that I have it, I wouldn’t change it for anything. Not even for friends who’d have hard feelings against me after I choose to live a life post-war.” You feel like you’ve spoken too much, because you feel like tearing up.
Wanda comes closer to you and hugs you tight. “Y/N, honey, it’s okay I’m right here.”
You sit there with her, since there’s nothing else you can do right now. For several minutes, none of you loosen the grip, too scared that either of you could turn to dust.
— ✦ —
On the way back home, you hold hands like little kids. Living with your best friend has got to be the best decision you’ve ever made. Feels like she holds a key to the corner of your heart that nobody has dared to discover.
“Hey, what are you thinking?” she moves closer and sits next to you on the couch.
“Nothing, just that you’re probably my favourite person in the whole world.”
“Stop being so cheesy and tell me the truth.”
“It is the truth. I love being with you Wanda, I love you.”
“I love you too, Y/N. Your existence lights up mine. I don’t want to leave you, ever.”
You give her a kiss on the cheek, and reply, “I will not leave you, ever.” After being through all the devastating events together, you’ve both developed quite a habit of sitting together in silence and thinking. Snapping out of the state, you go to your room to sleep. Or maybe just lay down. Wanda remains in the living room.
— ✦ —
It’s almost 4:30AM and you haven’t slept. Thoughts about Thanos, his army, your teammates, Natasha, and Tony come back. Illusions of blasts, gore and doom fill up your mind. Countless number of people have lost loved ones.
Maybe, just maybe, you could have done something to save your friends. Resentment and regret feel like two old friends who come to lay down next to you.
Wanda is in her room, you can sense her sleeping. It would be a good thing to have someone to talk to, but not that great if you’d have to wake her up. Eyes open, you go back to staring at the ceiling. Tears begin pooling in the corners of your eyes, ready to roll down any moment now.
Silently, you sniff away the mildest nightmare of the night.
— ✦ —
You sit at your desk a couple of hours later, and begin writing something that you don’t know. “Good morning. You're up early?” Wanda walks in. She’s still wearing her shorts and tank top. And she looks damn fine.
“Good morning. Also, what do you mean by ‘up’?” you reply back sarcastically.
“Oh well, don’t tell me you stayed up all night. Now come here, you desperately need a morning hug.”
“You’re a hundred and ten percent correct.”
You get up and go hug her closely. She rubs your back and whispers words of reassurance in your ear. You just hold her and smell her messy hair. You’re sure she used your shampoo but it only makes you want to hug her tighter. After letting go, you look at her face adoringly and tell her sincerely, “You look pretty. So pretty.” She blushes and pushes your shoulder lightly, as a friendly gesture.
“Stop teasing me! I haven’t even had my coffee yet. I’m gonna have to sound mad at you if you make fun of me right now.”
“You think I’m joking? You look fucking gorgeous. Not even kidding, I’d kiss you if we were toge-” You regain consciousness and regret saying anything at all. Should’ve told her I’m being satirical for no reason, you think.
“What was that you said?”
“Nothing.”
“No no, you said something. Say it.”
“Uhhhh that I was making fun of you for nothing. Go tie a bun or something.”
“Did you just say that you would kiss me?”
“What?! No!”
“Okay, if you say so. I don’t trust my ears anyway.” She simply walks out of the room with an air of smugness.
During breakfast, she asks you a question you never expected, but should’ve seen coming. “But like, let’s say hypothetically, would you kiss me if I asked you to?”
You almost choke on the toast. “Wanda, let me have my breakfast in peace. Please.”
“Another question, who would you kiss? Who is your type even? I’ve literally never seen you talk about this in almost over a decade of our friendship. Come on, Y/N, there’s got to be someone.”
“No Wanda, I don’t have a type. If someone is for me, they’re for me. There’s no one that I like right now.”
Her face grew serious and her smile faltered. “You know I can read your mind if I want to, don’t you?”
“I know that. I also know you wouldn’t break a promise to know about a possible date of mine or something.”
“Fine, you win.”
— ✦ —
You’ve been in the park almost all day again. But your mind has been thinking of something else today.
Why did I even say that at all? Would I even kiss her? Would she kiss me back at all? She probably still misses Vision. She literally loved him so much, they were perfect together. No, I shouldn’t even think of this. Especially when Wanda loved Vision so much, and probably still does. But then again it’s just ‘probably’. SHUT UP Y/N.
Screw this. I don’t want to kiss her at all. Never ever.
— ✦ —
“Well you came back quickly, I didn’t even have to come to the garden to bring you back. That’s new.”
“Yeah I guess?”
“Too tempted to kiss me, aren’t you honey?”
“Can you please stop with that Wanda? I don’t even know why I said that at all. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause awkwardness between us. But you’re kind of amplifying it and it’s making me uncomfortable. Can we just not do this? You simply looked gorgeous, that’s all. And I’m not the one to kiss someone just because of how they look. Just leave this.”
“Oh-uhm, okay Y/N. I’m sorry, let’s not make anything uncomfortable for either one of us.”
Wanda seemed deeply hurt by your evidently irritated reply. For a moment, she also felt terror-stricken. It was a side of you that she had seen, but never faced before.
“Thank you. Do you need some help with dinner?”
“Nah it’s almost ready. You might want to set up the table though.”
“Most certainly.”
— ✦ —
The following week is all the same. Everything is sort of normal. Morning comes, you have breakfast with Wanda, you go to the park, Wanda comes to pick you up in the evening, you both have dinner, go back to your own rooms, and you grieve.
A parcel arrives in the mail. It’s addressed to “Y/N Maximoff” and you’re quite unsure how that feels like. Wanda takes notice of it, but says nothing. You kind of wish she’d say something about it. Wanda makes mention of going back to her chores, but you ask her, “Don’t you want to know what’s in the box? I mean, they could’ve mistaken either one of our names.”
“Not really, you can go ahead and open it.”
It was a real bummer. You feel guilty about her attitude towards you. You know something is definitely off with Wanda. You sure have had fights and arguments with her before, but none of them have made her turn away like this. You keep the box aside and decide to open it once Wanda starts talking to you again.
I mean, we are talking but you know what I mean, you tell yourself. And find it stupid. However, the rest of the day continues.
You decide against going to the dear park today, considering how pissed off Wanda already seemed. There has got to be something which could make up her mood.
“Hey Wands, you wanna watch a sitcom? It’s been a while since we sat together to watch one.”
“No Y/N, you can watch it by yourself. I’ve got some work to do.”
And in the same way, she was successful at avoiding spending time with you through any other activity. She was mad at you. You had to clear things with her as soon as possible, before she could find a hundred more reasons to be mad at you.
By the time evening arrived, all the work should definitely have been done. You did not disturb Wanda during her online work even though you’d do that normally whenever you stayed at home.
“Wanda, I need to talk to you. Please stop walking around. You aren’t even listening to me! Just wait for a few minutes. Tell me what is wrong.” You hold her hand to hold her back from leaving.
She takes a deep breath and questions you, “Why do you think something is wrong? Besides, you are the one who did not go have her nerves calmed at a park today but I didn’t go around poking in your business. Leave my hand!”
“Hey, hey take it easy. Wanda, your face literally says “I am pissed off but I want you to guess what it is about” and since I honestly cannot figure it out so I’m simply asking you. If you don’t want to tell me then nevermind. Whatever it is, I am sorry.”
“I don’t want your apologies, keep them with you. And you can go do whatever the hell you want, I don't feel like talking to you right now. Also yes, I am pissed off.” Wanda’s voice slowly rises with every word she speaks, and a little discussion transforms into a heated argument.
“Fine, if that’s what you want. I won’t talk to you and I’m not even going to speak a word around you. You can say au revoir to my voice because I’m not gonna say anything. Night!”
“Yeah, as if I wanna hear you talk. I’m tired of it anyways. Night!”
Both of you have gone to bed without having dinner. And your mind is playing with you again. Flashbacks of not only the greatest war, but also your biggest fight with your best friend till now. You can hear her words echo in your mind.
“Yeah as if I wanna hear you talk. I’m tired of it anyways.”
“You can go do whatever the hell you want.”
“Leave my hand.”
In all these years, you have never heard her asking you to stop holding her hand. It was too heartbreaking to even imagine it.
— ✦ —
Wanda doesn’t talk to you the following day. Or the one after. Or the next. No calling you for the meal, no coming to pick you up from the park, nothing. You feel like you have had enough, so you approach her directly.
“So, do you want me to move out or something?”
“No Y/N.”
“Then speak your mind Wanda, I don’t even know what’s going on.”
“‘Speak your mind’ you say? Okay, here goes nothing.”
Without hesitation, she places her hand on the back of your neck and pulls you closer. For a moment, she stares into your eyes, and then kisses you deeply. You’re feeling both surprised, and satisfied. She closes her eyes to just feel you, and you place your hands in her hair. Her lips leave a trail as they move down to your neck, you tilt your head upwards to grant her all the access she would need. Wanda bites your skin and you let out a rough moan, driving her completely crazy.
That’s when you realise. Your best friend is marking your neck and you have no idea what’s going on. You gently motion for her to stop, which, reluctantly, she complies with.
“What?”
She clearly wants to go back to the moment, so she breathlessly asks you in return, “What?”
“Wanda.”
“Y/N.” She looks at you with a grin and pecks your lips again. “Alright, fine, let me explain.”
“Yes please, because as much as I love it, I’m still clueless.”
“I just have one question, now that you know, would you ever kiss me?”
Your cheeks redden up at her question. You avoid eye contact, gulp, and reply, “If you want then yes.”
She probably wants to growl and bang her head against the wall. “WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME HOW YOU FUCKING FEEL ABOUT ME?! CAN’T YOU SEE?!”
“See what Wanda?”
“Oh my God I cannot believe this. You are an idiot and I love you so fucking much.”
“Wa-”
“Don’t you dare say another word, I hate you! You’re just acting-” You shut her up by kissing her intensely, and again, and again, and yet again.
After pulling yourself away, you need some fresh air. So you sit on the couch, and beckon Wanda to follow. As soon as you’re sat, she decides to sit on your thigh, facing you. She slips her hands inside your t-shirt and seeks your permission, “Can I?” You smile and nod back at her, giving her consent.
She unhooks your bra, and cups your breasts in her hands each. Gently, she begins stimulating them. Your shoulders relax as she helps you feel lighter. You shut your eyes as Wanda gets you all worked up.
Suddenly, she pulls out her hands. You open your eyes and frown, uncertain about what happened. Wanda rubs herself against your thigh, making you moan by feeling her wetness. “Take off your shirt.” She directs you. You do as asked, and she’s met with the sight of your bare upper body. She immediately dives in to lick and play with your nipples, as you close your eyes again. Quite occasionally, you managed to say the same two coherent words; “Oh Wanda…”
She loves seeing you this way. It’s been years since she saw you relieve your stress. She hovers on your top, and connects her lips with your lips once again.
After a long heavy make out session, you decide to consider her wetness still lingering on your thigh. Grabbing her by the hips, you guide her for a pace. She’s in her yellow cotton shorts, and probably wouldn’t mind ruining them even more for you. Her moans get louder and louder till she finally says, “Y/N I’m gonna-”
“Yes honey, do it.” was all it needed for the knot in her stomach to release as she made a mess on your thigh. You slip two fingers within her heat to help her ride it out slowly. You mutter small praises to help her stabilise herself after her climax. Words like “You’re such a good girl” and “You did so well, princess” clearly had an effect on her. When you’re done and you pull out your hand from her dripping cunt, you let Wanda have a seat beside you.
She keeps on breathing heavily, but then looks at the sight of you licking your fingers clean. It was irrestitable for her, she had to pull you into a deep kiss. It was evident — she loved kissing you, whether it was a cute peck, a make out session, or just her catching her breath.
“Let me return the favour detka.” She requests you. You feel like it isn’t really necessary, but you don’t feel like breaking the moment so you let her do it. She pulls down your shorts, and begins teasing you over the panties with her fingers. You arch your back and groan, “Wanda please don’t-” So she bends and kisses your clothed core once before helping you strip off.
Slowly, she pushes in a finger, then adds another one. You spontaneously grasp her shoulders, which perturbs her. So she withdraws her fingers and looks at you tenderly and asks, “Y/N, are you really okay with this?”
“It’s just that… it’s been so long since I have…”
“Hey, I understand. If you want me to stop I can stop right away. You are always my first priority.”
“No, I want this Wanda. Everything feels so right, after so long.”
She slowly kisses you again, and this time not leaving out a single space she hasn’t discovered yet. Before you could do anything, she filled your intimacy with her fingers yet again. It’s an agonisingly slow pace, and it makes you shudder underneath her. “You look so gorgeous Y/N. You’re the most beautiful person I know, inside and out.” You can only breathe heavily in response because you’re (i) speechless, (ii) cuntful.
Gradually, she picks up the speed for you. Echoes of your pants and screams fill the room, and Wanda is enjoying every single bit of it. Soon enough, you were ready for your release. You try to warn her, but she understands your signal and whispers gently, “Come for your princess, Y/N.” It was all you needed to make a mess all over her fingers. She rides you through it as your elevated heartbeat goes back to normal.
She watches you with affection, and moments later you return Wanda’s gaze. She sits beside you again, and you both are in a familiar comfortable silence all over again. You decide to break it and bring up the previous conversation, “So… I guess I love you too? You’re the idiot by the way.”
“What do you mean that you guess? If you want to play the game then don’t forget you’re the naked one here and I can tease you really bad.”
“Oh really princess?” You wink at her and shift closer to her. She wraps her arm around you and says, “Let’s get a little cleaned up. I’m feeling a little hungry.”
You innocently ask her, “What do you want to eat?” but her mind is already running towards the wrong places. She swallows and replies, “A cup of green tea would do for me right now, would you like one?” You shake your head in the positive and get up.
— ✦ —
You two sit on the balcony to have the green tea. It’s late at night and the city is asleep. Your mind stares at the dark sky, still not quite visible because of the buildings. Wanda looks towards you the same time you look at her, she’s smiling. “Look at the moon Y/N!” She points towards it. Your gaze stays fixed on Wanda.
“I am looking at her. She’s breathtaking.”
— ✦ —
The following morning was enchanting as ever. You wake in Wanda’s arms, who is already lying awake next to you, waiting for you. “Good morning detka,” she whispers, “I hope you had a nice sleep.”
Morning laziness takes over you, so you hug her tightly and hum. She giggles and rubs your back with her hand, indicating for you to not doze off again. You groan, “I feel like I've slept after years, probably the first time ever.”
“It’s because you are sleeping for the first time in years. I love seeing you like this, but you need to wake up lyubov.”
“Fine, but you have to answer my question.”
“Go ahead.”
“What were you mad about, yesterday and before that?”
She hides her face behind your shoulder. “It’s stupid.” You hold her chin softly and tilt her head so she’s facing you. She sighs.
“Fine. I just didn’t realise how badly I’ve ever wanted to kiss you until you accidentally said that you’d kiss me if we were together. I’ve never been around someone who I could sit together with, listening to some white noise, and feel at home with. Hell, I’ve never been with anyone who could tell me they love me with my morning face. And then you backed off by acting all I-would-never-kiss-you so I was just a little pissed off. I’m sorry. You see, it’s stupid.”
“It isn’t, you’re just an idiot in love with another idiot. Also, don’t you dare say anything about your morning face. Your freckles, your faded accent, your natural hair - my goodness Wanda, I’d seriously kiss you if we were together.” You place little pecks all over her face, making her chuckle. “I love you Wanda.”
“And I love you Y/N.”
You hear the doorbell ring out of the blue. Against your will, you had to get up and open the door. There’s the mail for the day - a few bills, and a small box, addressed to “Y/N Maximoff” again.
You call Wanda outside the room. When she comes next to you, you ask her, “This is the second box. What do you think it is?” She arches her eyebrows suspiciously and takes the box away from you to keep it next to the bowl of keys. “We can find that out later.” she says before kissing your neck.
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dailycass-cain · 1 year
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So on January 26th yesterday,  I looked into how the comics had Cass combat her disability in Dyslexia being not able to read and relate words vocally. 
What worked, what didn't, and which era handled the progression better.
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At the very core of her very first appearance in Batman #567 by Kelley Puckett and Damion Scott, Barbara Gordon is trying to help Cassandra overcome her disability.  And it is her first words spoken that give her father David Cain pause.
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Batgirl Vol. 1 #2 gives us the first look into how Cass really doesn't fully care about learning in either study instead focusing on her new vigilante life. That is until running into Robinson and learning WHY words and writing truly matter.
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#5 has her run across a metahuman who has mental abilities and because of those rewires her brain to have the capacity to understand.
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It's a cheap copout for sure.  But it gives Cass a voice in her mind along with the capacity to speak better.  Bad news? It screws up her abilities and how her mind was originally wired.
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This leads into #6-9 basically being how Cass can get her ability to read body language and learn with the added bonus of her mind continuing to be the way it is.  Enter Lady Shiva who gives her this, but at a price aka the crux of what will lead into Batgirl #25.
Batgirl Vol. 1 #20 written by Chuck Dixon (art still by Scott). Where Cass comes to a drop man who's murdered before he can deliver a ransom. Her lack of being able to read leads her to seek out--
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-- one Stephanie Brown aka Spoiler.  I think at this point the reason Cass went to Steph was that she was afraid Babs would lecture her on neglecting her reading lessons (which she would later on).
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Tim Drake, she had just fully befriended (#18), but he was close to Babs. So Cass probably figured he accidentally let slip this and she'd be in trouble. Steph wouldn't she was on the outside from the Bat Family (at this time).
The issue does promise of Cass in attaining another reading teacher (which pays off in the most weirdest place, Convergence: Batgirl #1), but this plot point goes nowhere here. Cass/Steph's friendship would intensify for the next ten issues (#21, 26-28).
For the most part, we don't really get to see fully Cass try and fight her Dyslexia again until the Dylan Horrocks' run with #51 where we learn HOW Cass is expanding her word vocabulary via TV but neglecting on reading.
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This bit reads its crux with the infamous #54 (i.e. the one that causes Cass/Babs to fracture away from one another).
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In the issue, Cass has to deal with a killer robot that's taking out any place that has a copy of a book that has the codeword to shut it down. We learn during the fight, Cass has been neglecting her studies in reading.  Again with the infamous page:
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Now Horrocks did this because he was ordered to write Babs off this title (Birds of Prey, the comic Babs was primarily in would be eventually moving away from Gotham). It was the first of that would make the writer leave the comic (and DC Comics altogether).
Regardless again the way the case rattled Cass enough to think about it all and work back into trying to read.
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If there was instant positive of writer Andersen Gabrych when he began his run. He made sure this was a reoccurring plot point THROUGHOUT his run starting with #58.
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By giving Cass her own diary it enables her better way to try and combat her disability. Along with in the very same issue, Cass trying to actively read a book for the first time on page.
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The diary motif would be a hallmark of Gabrych's entire run with the book. So I'm not gonna post every entry. But I think that's why I really loved those first few issues because he covered ALL corners with the character. 
 You saw it all.
Never once did Gabrych use behind the issues trick. This was a struggle for Cass. I think it better helped resonate the character with readers by doing so. It also went down an angle that was different than Puckett and felt like the better next step from what was built on prior.
Course Cass would still have her bad habits of being an avid TV watcher. So the balance of her trying and struggling was a nice touch.
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This came to an ironic fully circle with #67 with Babs returning (for one issue) in the comic and the pair hashing out their differences and mending. But it also reveals a further reason why Babs really wants Cass to learn to read. Again, this is probably the best reason.
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She knows Cass wants to be Bruce's heir and be Batman. She knows the only way to fully be that is to get fully conquer her disability. And for the second time in her ongoing we get a look in how Cass's brain was wired from her learning from her father and the metahuman.
And we get the clearest answer how Cass's brain truly operates and why the usual methods in overcoming her disability in reading.
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That's the final gift Gabrych gave us. 
A hope.
 A small faint hope that maybe Cass could learn with whatever writer would take on the character next. The only thing is even he couldn't anticipate what was to come...
Batgirl was canceled with #73 and well the next time we saw Cass and how this disability was handled came in Robin #148.
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Alright, before I go into this portion. Newly minted Robin writer (this was his first issue) Adam Beechen came into comics had zero idea of the character of Cassandra Cain, other than what he was told and found.
The DC Editors on Robin did not help him or assist him. They gave him an edict... and he did that edict without question. The result....
Was this INFAMOUS page from Robin #149. Cassandra Cain the character who had the disability of Dyslexia somehow was able to learn another entire language.
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That's not even going with the OTHER problem Robin OYL gave us with Cass (but that's an entirely ANOTHER issue). Regardless after the story arc, Beechen (and DC) realized just how badly he screwed up.
Course, the entirety on HOW Cass was suddenly able to learn an entire language with how her brain understood information. Yeah, this was a plot thread nobody truly wanted to answer when the retcons began dropping after Cass's "EVIL" phase to fix it.
In fact, it was Beechen himself who addressed the issue in Batgirl Vol. 2 #1 amongst the CHUNKS of well exposition and history that was the mess DC made of the character from 2006-2007.
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So all those issues Babs mentioned in #67? Cass and Alfred fixed them and for the entire MISSING YEAR Cass made great strides to overcome her disability. THAT'S how she was able to understand the Navajo language.
Look I get what Beechen was doing and I also get we were NEVER gonna get the missing stories to showcase that. But to see an entire character's journey in overcoming her disability fixed overnight?
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Even with Beechen giving us a classmate in Sal (who's last name we NEVER learn, and is forgettable male love interest #3 for Cass) who gives us the promise of something we never get from the Vol. 1 ongoing. Because DC was gonna DC.
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That's basically it for the original run for Cass. That it was a nice harrowing journey that had its bumps but the character was making great strides to be better. Then well the road bumps began to occur and yeah...
I'll give it to Beechen that he tried at the very least to fix the holes he himself caused. But... in the format given it's just crushing how this was fully handled in the end.
Sadly we got nothing more as DC really did a meh job for about five years? We did get this little nugget in Convergence: Batgirl #1 though (somehow connecting that line from waaaaaay back in Batgirl Vol. 1 #20)...
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Which is shocking of all places for Cass trying to overcome her disability, Convergence: Batgirl #1 was not the place one ever would think to find that, but we had that surprisingly.
So when Cass was "reintroduced" into the DCU with Batman & Robin Eternal. A reset was in order and writers were allowed back to square one in how to deal with Cass handling her Dyslexia disability.
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I will say this for James Tynion IV and Scott Snyder on how they handle putting a metahuman with mental abilities they just slot that character in #11 by introducing the Sculptor who basically fills the same void the meta in Batgirl Vol. 1 #5 did.
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Much like the original metahuman, once this link is established Sculptor nopes her way out of the story and is never heard from again.
Which kind of surprises me, because it's something I figured Tynion would maybe address during his Detective Comics run (that had Cass in it) given how much in #11 and 12 establish the character and her origins. 
But nope. Nothing further.
So yeah, after this we got James Tynion IV's Detective Comics run that had Cass in it starting from #934-981.
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Not surprisingly, Tynion really handled the whole disability issue well than those in the past with the constraints he had. Even more so Juggling multiple characters in this book and going down a better avenue than his predecessors.
And that all begins with #953 with Clayface (Basil Karlo) trying to comfort Cass after learning her mom is Lady Shiva.
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By doing this. Tynion lays the seeds on how he'll deal with the issue on Cass combating her disability while also cementing the hallmark of this run, Clayface's rehabilitation and friendship with Cass.
#958 we see Basil teaching Cass Shakespeare by playing audio and having her learn to read and increase her vocabulary via that.
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It's probably the best thing Tynion did character-wise with Cass by briefly showing us this but fully giving us a more plausible method than prior on how to deal with her disability.
The fact that this hits throughout this arc (as Cass quotes Shakespeare at a good moment) and is carried over until the very end of his run when Cass meets Barbara in #981.
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This version of Cass is actively trying to combat her Dyslexia more than her prior versions, and this Cass is actively doing a better job. Even though we don’t get much Babs teaching Cass (though they do work together in the next arc after this that sets up Batman & the Outsiders). But that run doesn’t dig into Cass’s progress instead going into other routes to touch on with the character. 
Unlike what was carried over from Batgirl Vol. 1 to 2 (and between that) Cass has a more concrete subplot here. Where we can SEE and are TOLD of her progress.
That leads us into the current Batgirls ongoing. In #1. where this is a little bit lampshaded. As Cass uses a reading bag to combat criminals to retain stuff she/Steph had that was stolen.
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A further bit of subplot is continued throughout and in #4 with Cass now ACTIVELY being a bookworm and reading works of Edgar Allen Poe.
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Like it astonishes me that this element of the character has remained actually consistent from point A to B. But it's a nice contrast of things that creators at DC worked on better here than prior.
And no issue highlights that fight of Cass actively wanting to combat her dyslexia then "Sounds" from DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration #1 by Mariko Tamaki and Marcus To.
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It's why Tamaki just fully GETS the character of Cass not in every corner of the character.  Why many want the writer to handle the character again.
But Tamaki isn't the only one who did a good job in showcasing Cass fighting her disability and the one that does the best job is Shadow of the Batgirl graphic novel. Where writer Sarah Kuhn and artist Nicole Goux go both literally fighting her disability.
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And her actively learning to read and increasing her vocabulary by hiding in the library was absolute perfection.
But it also is a nice avenue (and nod to the past) by focusing on a library since that's the location where Barbara Gordon teaches (and again a nice nod to that character's history too).
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Quite literally...
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That's another layer to why I adore that graphic novel. Just the layer of dimension to BOTH characters while it gives that nod to Babs, the story is clearly more Cass. 
 Again, Kuhn modernizes everything to perfection.
So there you have the history of Cass and her disability.  And my final gift on this day (which has now passed) to celebrate the character of Cassandra Cain.
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Hidden in the Sands (Yandere!Naga!Kunikuzushi)
Warnings: Character Death (not reader, not kuni), Some Gore (description of a corpse), Injury (of reader), Monster AU, implied semi-cannibalism (he isn't human but close enough), some blood (mostly not reader's, a little is kuni's), biting, venom, graphic description of venom effects (used on reader non-lethally), kuni-typical insults, venom effects are made up, kuni tries to kill you (at first but doesn't follow through), reader has a semi-near-death experience, threats, kidnapping, imprisonment, nonconsensual touching (SFW ofc), general yandere themes, kunibaby is Not Nice but it's okay because he's hot, reader goes through the wringer... if you prefer soft yandere, this is probably not for you. loosely based on a rp I did with a friend.
Sorry I lied about the rook and sebek HCs. I have Sebek's pretty much done I think, but Rook remains an enigma. Might post them separately, idk.
Kuni's appearance is inspired by the desert horned viper. If the formatting seems a little weird at any point, it's because tumblr messed it up when I copy/pasted it here. Might fix it later.
6.5k words or so.
The Desert of Hadramaveth.
You haven't been here before. You thought the rest of the desert was bad, between the heat which was "enough to melt a mist flower but not really" (paraphrased from a certain fox friend) and the unforgiving terrain.
This was worse, with its near-constant sandstorms. This was the second one today, and you had only just left the Tanit camp. In other areas of the desert, you were begging for a reprieve from the sun, but here, you were almost begging for it back if it meant you didn't have to worry about getting sand in your eyes and throat. It was almost, almost enough to make you consider turning around and dropping the commission.
"Do you want to hear a dry joke?"
If it weren't for your friend here, you probably would. Unfortunately, you can't turn back now that you've gotten his hopes up. The most you can do is slump your shoulders and sigh, suffocating under the endless heat, what little you could see of the sun, and what you knew was coming next.
"Sure, I'll bite."
A large, beaming grin spread across Sanad's face, and you braced yourself.
"A desert."
"That's terrible."
"Oh, come on! It's funny and you know it!"
"Does that even count as a proper j-"
You paused, looking up at the sky. In the distance, you could see a large, beige cloud. Again?
"We need to find shelter. There's a sandstorm coming."
"Well, looks like we're in luck. Where isn't shelter?" he responded.
It was true. You and Sanad were somewhere just north of the Tanit Camps, near Wadi Al-Majuj. Ahead of the both of you was the entrance to a deep canyon, lined with ancient ruins. According to the map, it was called Pairidaeza Canyon. Behind you, there was another entrance to a different canyon, and according to your map, if you went back a ways and to the right, there'd be a third one.
"Come on, let's go! I need to look through these for my thesis!" He rushed, running ahead of you.
"Careful!" you called out. "There might be bandits down there."
He immediately slowed to a stop, sheepishly turning around to move back to his place next to you.
"On second thought, take your time. Just make sure there's nobody else in there."
You chuckle, already starting a reasonable pace down the steep slope into the canyon. "Thought so. Just a reminder, we're leaving immediately once the sandstorm ends, unless we find who or what we're looking for."
Right. What you were looking for. Recently, small groups of travelers and even large caravans were being attacked. Most of the attacks occurred between the Tanit Camp and around the Passage of Ghouls. A few supplies were usually stolen, but that wasn't the worst part.
A few days later, the rotting corpse of one of the travelers or nomads would be found, half-eaten and with a twin set of puncture marks in their throat. Any useful supplies would be missing, but oddly enough, the mora was almost never taken.
Normally, you'd assume that maybe it was just a deranged serial killer, and either the bodies were eaten by wild animals or the culprit was worse than you thought. But it was strange. What serial killer had fangs like that? And if it was a wild animal, what use would they have for supplies like bedrolls and first aid kits?
The survivors usually all said the same thing; they were caught out in the middle of a sandstorm, and all they heard was a scream or shout before one of their friends disappeared. When the body was found, some key survival supplies would be missing as well. When a caravan was attacked, some supplies (and occasionally people) would even be snatched right off the backs of the desert sumpter beasts.
Hence why you and your friend Sanad were out here to crack this strange case. Mostly you, though, since Sanad only wanted to take a gander at the desert ruins for some Akademiya thing. You'd probably have gone alone (or at least tried to, before you decided the mora wasn't worth it) but when he heard that you were going to this section of the desert, he insisted on coming for his thesis or something like that. He helped pay for the trip, and he was paying you personally, so you had no reason to refuse. He was your friend, and good company to boot, even if he was a little bit skittish.
"Well, that might be possible... but you said you didn't even know if the culprit was a person, didn't you?" he inquired, as the both of you passed the first of the ruins in the canyon.
You sighed. "Yeah, I told you all about that already."
A glimmer of excitement appeared in his eyes. "Well, I've been thinking since then, and I remembered this old desert legend! Have you heard of nagas?"
"Nagas?" you parroted.
"Yes, nagas!" He nodded his head. "They're an ancient race of ferocious half-human half-snake people that supposedly existed during the reign of King Deshret. Apparently they were equal parts revered and feared, as wise and strong beings."
You raised a somewhat skeptical brow. "I thought you didn't believe in legends?"
He laughed. "The Akademiya has declared them to be just baseless nonsense, so of course I don't think they actually exist. I just think it's very interesting, and it technically matches what we know..." He trails off, looking around in awe.
"If you want to look around, you can. Tell me if you see or hear anything."
You didn't need to tell him twice. With a rushed "thanks!" and a wave, he was practically bouncing up what probably used to be a set of stairs to a higher level within the ruins, off to your left. In the meantime, you'll look around, see if you can find anything interesting.
You looked up and around, spinning on your heels. From what you've seen of the canyon so far, it's just a straight corridor with partially collapsed stone ruins on both sides, and a fallen wooden bridge that once connected them. You can see several ways to climb up higher and explore the ancient stone buildings, including the way up that Sanad went.
You and Sanad are pretty deep into the canyon at this point, and you have to crane your head just to see the top. As you do this, you notice just how many floors there are in the ruins. Some have crumbled so much they seem almost completely inaccessible. They're so high up, you can't see anything on them from your angle at the bottom.
There's just so many places to hide. The realization makes you tense up a little. Maybe you should have gone up with him.
It's so strange though. The complicated ruins, numerous hiding places, and the nearby water would make this place an ideal camping spot for bandits and thieves. But so far, you haven't seen hide or hair of anyone else. Not even an abandoned camp.
Until somewhere in the ruins, you hear an odd sound. It's hard to make out, and it sounds so much like the normal shifting sand that you almost brush it off as a natural sound in the canyon. But you hear stone crumbling and rocks falling, and you look up, seeing something move on the side of a ledge too far above you to check. It's close enough that some of the rocks hit the ground next to you. You squint, watching the ledge, waiting for whatever it was to move again, but the sound stops. The hair on your neck stands on end–from what, you aren't sure. Sanad is even closer to the source of the sound than you are, but not far away at all. Just out of sight. Was it from him? Or someone watching him?
Or are they watching you?
You're not sure, and you'll check just in case. Sanad doesn't have anything to defend himself with except for a dagger. Without another thought, you surge up the stone steps, hand subconsciously finding its place on the pommel of your sword. When you get up there, you see him standing with a hand on his chin, studying some old glowing contraption you've never seen before.
"Did you hear that?" you ask, breathing just a little heavier than normal.
He turns to you somewhat incredulously, just as fine as ever. "Hear what? I haven't heard anything. Are you alright?"
You calm down a little bit, letting your hand fall from your sword. "I'm fine. I was just worried about you. Didn't you hear that noise? I saw something move up there." You look up at the ledge the rocks came from. You don't see any way to get up there that's safe.
The sand is starting to pour in harder through the massive gap in the canyon ceiling, and the wind is beginning to howl. You and Sanad are slowly being dusted in sand.
"You're a little on edge. Relax! A sandstorm is starting and the wind and sand probably just knocked a few rocks into the canyon or something. It happens all the time." He flashed you a reassuring smile, turning back to... whatever those were on the wall. They're shaped somewhat like bowls, and as sand pours into them, sand also pours out a hole in the side into another one of them. You're not the researcher here, so you ignore it.
You let go of some of the tension in your shoulders, letting out a held breath. "Alright, sorry for bothering you then. Just so you know, if the sandstorm gets any worse, we'll be moving deeper into the canyon to get out of the sand."
He turns back to you, somewhat pleading. "But can't I stay? I'm not the one looking for the guy, so you don't need me to come with you, right?"
You expected this, just as you expect that he'll be the one choosing to come with you after what you say next. "Yeah, you could, but if something happens I probably won't be able to hear it if I'm down there."
He freezes, grimacing a bit. "Alright, alright. Let me know when you move on."
As expected.
You chuckle at him with a lopsided smile, turning back to go down the ramp. He was probably right. It seemed like such a silly thing to panic over. Of course sand and rocks would shift and fall in the desert during a sandstorm. That's probably all you saw. You're glad you brought Sanad along and not some other stuck-up researcher who would have made fun of you for it.
When you reach the bottom again, you turn your attention to the ground. Aside from the sounds of the howling wind and pouring sand, you can hear water dripping as it coalesces into the wide but shallow puddle in front of you. That's not what interests you, though.
There's a long indentation in the sand, about as wide as you are, as if something had been dragged through. It extends further into the cave, where the ground becomes rockier and the track disappears.
You crouch down to inspect them further. Chances are, it's probably a large haul of supplies that was too big to properly carry. This place is the perfect hideout for thieves and bandits, so it would be worthwhile to investigate. If you're lucky, it might be the bandit you're looking for.
The canyon starts to darken, so much so that you now have trouble making out the edges of the track. Most of the sunlight that filtered in through the top has disappeared behind a haze. The sound of howling wind grows louder, and the hiss of pouring sand all around you is almost deafening. You've had quite enough of the sand raining on and around you, so you call out for Sanad to come back. It doesn't take him long to come rushing back down the way he came.
"We're heading deeper in to wait out the rest of it," you explain.
He sends a longing look back at where he had come from. "Alright... I see," he concedes, with a dejected slump of his shoulders.
You'll humor him. "Did you find anything interesting?"
He instantly brightens up, excited to talk about whatever he found. "Yes! It's this interesting mechanism that fills with sand. I read about it in a textbook once! It can be opened and closed, but I couldn't figure out how to. I've heard if you can fill them as they were intended to be, you can get treasure from them!"
You two begin moving deeper into the canyon, and you send him a teasing smile. "With the way you're talking, I'd almost think you're the adventurer here."
He shudders. "I could never. At least, not as a full time job. You encounter monsters all the time, don't you?"
"They're not so difficult to deal with, once you're used to seeing them."
"That is not at all reassuring!" He stops to let out a breath. "No, I just want the free mora. Trips like these are expensive."
You sigh. "Well, if you want to, we can at least take a crack at it together on the way out of here."
His eyes light up again. "That's wonderful! We can even split the rewards if we manage to solve it!"
"No more than an hour, though," you warn. "With all the sandstorms, we don't have the time to waste."
"Aww, fair enough." A moment of silence passes, and he turns back to you. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask you! Did you find anything interesting?"
You think back, and the only thing that comes to mind are the tracks.
"Well, a little bit behind us, I found these drag marks. Like someone had dragged a big bag or something, I couldn't tell what."
"Drag marks? Oh, so maybe it really is a naga after all."
You turn to him in exasperation. "Didn't you just say you didn't believe in them? Besides, why'd you even tell me about them if you don't think they exist?"
He laughs. "I'm kidding! I only told you mostly because I wanted to. But I have a more realistic theory too!"
"Really now?" You raised a skeptical brow.
He turns to you, faking a gasp in faux offense. "Why are you looking at me like that? Of course I do! I don't study at the Akademiya for nothing!"
You chuckle. "Oh, go on then. Don't keep me waiting."
"What if the culprit keeps a snake around? Think about it, at the price of a little food, they'd get an unlimited supply of p–Hey! Don't laugh at me! It's not as ridiculous as it sounds!"
Apparently you weren't as good at hiding your snickers as you thought. "No, no, I'm not laughing at you. I was just imagining it in my head. From what I heard, it would have to be a pretty big one based on the size of the puncture wounds and the distance between the fangs."
He crossed his arms, looking away. Guess he didn't quite believe you. "It's not THAT unbelievable, especially in comparison to the naga theory... Haven't you seen the street performers with the snakes in Port Ormos?"
You hold your hands out in a placating gesture. "Okay, okay, you're right, I'm sorry. But your theory doesn't explain everything–what about the half-eaten bodies part? And they almost never take mora either... besides, the street performers use nonvenomous snakes."
"I guess it would be risky, but in theory, venomous snakes can be trained too! Desert dwellers tend to be... fearless. Though..." He puts a hand to his chin in contemplation, looking down. "I'm not quite sure about that other part either. Though it's not as if cannibalism was ever off the table, there's always the chance it was just wild animals that found the body after. As for mora... maybe it's someone who never gets the chance to spend it anyway?"
"Like, a recluse or something?" you pipe up.
"Yeah, exactly! Someone who's completely self-sufficient, who doesn't need to deal with other people to survive. Makes enough sense. They probably get everything they need from the people they're attacking."
At this point, the both of you are up to your ankles in water. The canyon is fairly wide at the bottom and grows so much narrower towards the top that very little sand makes it through, so you take the liberty of brushing as much of it off of you as possible. The both of you pass the last of the stone ruins. Up ahead is just bare, mostly untouched canyon. It's damp enough to support an amount of greenery that seemed a little out of place in the desert. You can still hear the wind howl, but it's a bit quieter here.
You and Sanad pass an opening in the wall to your right, leading to a dead end with a fairly deep pool and what looked to be a crumbled stone bridge.
"Your theory is a little... out there, but some of it definitely makes a good deal of sense."
"It's an early hypothesis! We'll revise it as we find more evidence."
You roll your eyes a bit. "It's alright, I'm not judging you."
You look around again. There's plenty of dry places to stop and rest without worrying about sand, so this should be an adequate place to wait it out.
"Why don't we stop here?"
"Not yet!" Sanad points further into the cave, where it opens up some more, with a rock jutting out of the center of the room, surrounded on one side by a shallow stream of water. "I can see more ruins in there! You can stop there and I can keep looking around."
You sigh, for what felt like the hundredth time. As much as you wanted to rest, it wasn't far away at all. "Alright. But we're still going back to that mechanism immediately once the sandstorm is over."
"I know, I kn–"
From an entrance to another path to your right came a blur, barreling right at Sanad. You have barely enough time to shove him behind you and out of its way before it stops in front of you both, dark claws bared.
Now that you can get a look at it, you realize it's a scarred, shirtless man with a dark head of hair, sharp indigo eyes, and... two pale, straight horns? Looking down, he doesn't have a pair of legs, but a sand-colored snakelike tail with rough scales. Even without the rest of his tail, which was hidden behind him, he's quite literally twice your size.
A naga?
He sneers at your sword as you pull it from your sheath, showing off a long pair of fangs. "A little short, isn't it?" He hisses. "Good luck with that."
"Sanad, get back!" You cry, holding your sword out in front of you threateningly. The naga seemed more amused than anything, simply starting to circle. Watching.
While you backed up to keep the naga from getting between you and Sanad, he hurriedly ran far back the way the both of you came, staying just close enough to watch the both of you.
Without warning, the naga lunged forward, one claw-tipped hand reaching out to swipe at you. You swung your sword at his arm, but missed, just barely grazing his side. Still, it was enough to force him back. He brushed over the superficial wound with one hand, smearing what little blood came from it, taking a look.
You stand there, adrenaline pumping through your veins, unsure of what to do. His reach was almost as long as yours, even though you were the one with the sword. This has to be who you're looking for, but you're beginning to think that you should've brought more people.
When he looks back at you, that cruel sneer is still set in his face, but a glint of annoyance is now present in his eyes.
"Lucky hit. Don't count on it happening again."
He doesn't hesitate, rushing forward immediately. You swing again, but it's too early, and he barely has to slow down before he's coming at you again. He's so close now that he grabs your shoulder, claws digging in hard enough to draw blood, shoving you down. In a blind panic, you're forced to adjust your grip on your sword so that you can bring your arm back and stab into his tail.
Before you even realize what's happened, you're on the ground, wind knocked out of your lungs. The arm that had held your sword is pinned to the ground by one of his hands, the other still holding onto your shoulder. You wheeze pathetically while he leans down and slides his fangs into your throat.
Your sword had bounced off of his scales, barely even leaving a mark.
The first thing you feel in your throat is pain, followed by an overwhelming numbing sensation, only interrupted by pins and needles. He chuckles as you thrash around in his hold, your free hand trying to push him off. The sensation is spreading, from your shoulder down even to your fingertips. The only thing you can do is let out a pained groan.
The pressure, from anything, from his hands on you to your own as you push and hit him, hurts. Like everything that touches you only pushes those pins and needles deeper into your skin. It's this feeling that finally makes you go limp in his hold, giving in. It gives you the chance to look up, focus on anything but him, and see that Sanad has long since abandoned you. Lucky bastard.
You hope that he gets away, at least. Even as the half-snake thing on you pulls away to hold your face in one hand, forcing you to look at him.
"Seems your little friend didn't care for you as much as you cared for him. Don't worry. I'll do you a favor and make sure he gets what's coming to him." You manage to focus on his face, smeared with your blood and that same, ever-present sneer, but with something else behind it. Something vindictive.
You grit your teeth. It stung, even though you knew it was the only reasonable thing for Sanad to do.
It's petty, and it won't do you any favors, but you lift your arm and slap him across the face as hard as you can. The impact alone sends shocks of pain down your arm, but he barely even moves.
Instead, he laughs in your face, dark amusement flitting across his hauntingly beautiful features. "What was that? A love tap? After everything, I'm surprised you can even try." He leans in closer still, your noses almost touching.
"I'm sure you feel proud of yourself, don't you? Good job! I might just leave you for last, then."
Without another word, he dashes off to find Sanad, and all you can do is pray the snake isn't successful. After all, what's a pampered Akademiya researcher to do against a man-eating monster?
You try to stand, but a bone-deep exhaustion pulls at your limbs. You can only get halfway up before your vision starts to go dark and you collapse onto the ground in a graceless heap. The pressure still hurts, a strange buzzing sensation rising alongside the needles and numbness. All you can do to help it is curl onto your side, minimizing your contact with the ground.
You lay there for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness for who knows how long. The pain is fading slightly, but you're not sure if it only feels that way because you're getting used to it.
Maybe you're dying.
A chill goes down your spine at the thought, and you do your best to dismiss it. It isn't hard, not when your thoughts are interrupted by a terrified, blood-curdling scream cut too short to be natural.
It brings you back to your senses. You keep listening, but you can't hear any more noises over the constant sounds of the canyon. Dripping water, falling sand, and the howling wind.
If that was Sanad, then since you're already deep within the snake's den, it must be only a matter of time before he gets back...
You're pushing yourself back on your feet before you know it, another rush of adrenaline supporting you. To do what, you're not sure. If you couldn't win before, you certainly can't now. But you're already running as best you can to where you saw Sanad go, though it's more of a relatively fast half-stumble than anything else. Everything still hurts, and beneath the venom you can start to feel your muscles ache too, but if you focus on moving it isn't unbearable.
You forgot your sword. You'd turn back to get it, but even with the adrenaline your limbs feel like lead, and your sword arm is so weak you don't think you could do more than carry it anyway.
You've just reached the ruins again, and looking around at all the nooks and crannies gives you the idea to hide. As sluggish and unarmed as you are, you can't fight anyway. Maybe if you hide long enough, he'll go away. Sanad might still be alive, if you can make it to him.
You don't know how long you were laying there, but if you could hear Sanad, they couldn't have gotten far. That fact is a double-edged sword, you realize. It's been a while since you heard his scream, and if the naga was coming back then it wouldn't be long until you saw him. You don't have much time.
You stagger your way as fast as you can manage to your right. You don't see anywhere to hide down at the bottom, but there are plenty of places above. It's so much harder than walking on flat ground, but you force yourself up a wooden ramp onto a stone platform. There aren't a variety of places to hide here, either, but you don't have the energy to go up any higher.
You hear the water below you being disturbed, in a way too constant to be footsteps, and you quickly duck forward to avoid being seen. You don't dare look, instead opting to slowly move towards a large stone statue to your right, as quietly as possible. With one look back to make sure he hadn't come up to check, you hide behind the stone dais that the statue rested on.
You take a breather, listening for any more sounds. You can't hear the water being disturbed anymore, but the thought of moving alone is both terrifying and exhausting. If you wait too long and he finds you gone, he'll probably come back to look for you. On the other hand, if you leave too early and he hears you...
With this in mind, you rest a few minutes more. The wind is slowing down, and there's less sand in the air than there was when you and Sanad first came through, so the sandstorm has likely stopped. At least the naga won't have that going for him too, once you and Sanad leave.
You'd stay longer, but the anxiety eats at you. It's only a matter of time until the naga comes back, and you don't know what condition Sanad is in.
You get up on shaking legs, your body begging you to sit back down and rest more. You know better, so you force yourself forward, looking over the ledge to make sure he isn't nearby.
You stumble back down the wooden ramp, turning to continue down the path to the exit. You have to stick to the sides of the path, where the sand is highest, just to make sure nobody can hear the sounds of splashing water.
Sanad can't be too far off now. Maybe he'll be in the same state you are, and you both can return to the Tanit camp and get help. You still have your pack on you, but the only thing that might be useful soon is the small first aid kit and the knife.
You really hope you won't need the knife.
Just in case, you pull it out of your pack and put in in your pocket. You're out of the water now, but you've come to a steep hill. The only way out is up. You hope you can make it.
You grit your teeth, sweat dripping down the side of your face as you force yourself up the incline. Onward and upward, you think bitterly. The overused phrase "ad astra abyssosque" parroted endlessly by everyone else at the Adventurer's Guild comes to mind. You never thought you'd make it to the stars or abyss to begin with, but you didn't think your journey would end so soon, either.
Your muscles burn with exhaustion, and you think you can feel the numbness slowly spreading further into your legs. Still, you continue upwards, at a much slower pace, even as you almost collapse a few times.
You come up to a point where the hill flattens out for a short distance. You're panting from the exertion, and you almost breathe a sigh of relief until you see what's in front of you.
"Sanad!"
Before you know it, you've staggered forward to collapse at his side. He's lying face-down on the ground in a small pool of his own blood.
You turn him over, tears pricking at your eyes, praying his condition wasn't as bad as it seemed. His head lolled to the side, face pale and eyes empty, unmoving. The blood, on the ground and splattered all over the front of his Akademiya robes, still dripped from the massive tear in his neck. It looked like a set of claws had dug into his skin and tore off the front of his throat.
Your breath hitches, and you fall backwards, dropping his body. Tears well up in your eyes. Why hadn't he done the same to you? Why did he do so much worse to-
"So, so loyal. Like a dog running to protect its master. You're adorable, really, even if you're a little late."
You freeze, only turning your head to look over your shoulder at him. He's slowly approaching, a condescending smirk on his lips. Half-dried blood covers one of his hands.
"There's no need to mourn. He was pathetic. Did you know that he only cared enough to fight when it was his life on the line?" He looked distant for a moment, before looking at you with something almost soft in his eyes. It disappeared so fast, you'd almost think you had imagined it, the condescending smirk and mock pity sliding to cover his face once more. "You poor thing. You're better off without him. No need to thank me."
You blink away the tears, an idea coming to mind. You couldn't overpower or outrun him, so there's only one possible option for you. "You're a... you're a lying bastard! What else was he going to do?" You yelled at him, pushing yourself up on unsteady legs to face him, backing over your friend's body.
"Humans are untrustworthy," he croons, following after you. His eyes don't leave you even once. He's sizing you up, and with nothing more than a moment of contemplation, his smirk widens and a victorious glint appears in his narrowed eyes. "He was using you. Once you were no longer useful to him, he discarded you. It's pretty naive to think he left you with any other thought in mind."
You don't dignify that with a response, continuing to back up. One of your hands almost moves down to your pocket, where your knife is hidden, but you stop it before he sees.
Your heel hits the sharp incline behind you, where the hill keeps going, and you fall backwards and hit the ground. A derisive snort comes from the snake.
"I've decided what I'm going to do with you. It's much better than what I did to your friend, here. You should thank me, really." He towers over you, leaning down to your level, setting a hand down on the ground next to you. Your hand twitches for your knife.
He watches you for a moment, a quiet, breathy laugh leaving his lips at your frozen state. All you do is stare at him, shaking from the adrenaline. Finally, his other hand comes up to rest on the nape of your neck, pushing you closer to him. You can feel the sticky blood on his fingers.
His eyes glimmer with excitement, and he continues while your hand slowly drifts to your pocket. "You're just helpless. I think I'm going to keep you with me, like a little p-"
You thrust your knife at him, landing a hit on his side while he lurches away. Your blood runs cold. It should have been buried hilt-deep, but instead all you've done is leave a bleeding gash. It's not quite superficial, but it won't stop him, and you know you won't be able to land another.
His lips curl in a snarl as you scramble backwards up the hill. You turn, and start running, but adrenaline can only carry you so far. You feel almost like you're in a nightmare, fully conscious and trying to run but unable to move at any pace that could possibly save you.
It only takes a moment for a large hand to wrap around your ankle, dragging you underneath him. Your face hits the ground and your hands scrabble for purchase, but the dirt and sand only give way beneath your fingers. His other hand finds the wrist with the knife, squeezing tightly enough that you can feel the pain, even underneath the lingering numb, buzzing sensation. You can't feel your hand well enough to keep holding onto the knife. The pins and needles return, and tears prick at your eyes.
He knocks the knife far away from you and flips you over to look at him, dark eyes still burning with anger. "You're alive only because I let you live. Did you really think trying that was smart? Did you finally get it all out of your system, or do you want to try again?"
You try to speak, but the words get caught on the lump in your throat. A hand slams on the ground next to you, and you shrink in on yourself.
"Well?" A glimmer of satisfaction appeared in his eyes, even as his lip curled in a mixture of amusement and contempt. "I'm waiting."
It's all you can do to croak out a few apologies and look away, unable to stand his stare.
A deep chuckle resonates from his chest, and his other face grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him again. "Good enough," he croons. "Looks like it won't be so bad for you, then."
"What? What won't?" you whimper. His hand lets go of your face, drifting down to encircle your neck. Your hands instinctively wrap around his wrist, silently begging him not to squeeze.
That little mocking smile on his face widens. His hand tightens a little, and you panic for a second, but it doesn't go any further. Instead, his eyes grow distant, thinking.
They brighten up again, an idea coming to mind. He laughs quietly to himself, pulling his other hand off the ground and trailing it down your leg. "You can call me... Kunikuzushi. I think I know what I'm going to do with you now."
"Please don't hurt me," you plead, vision blurring with tears. He doesn't even look at you, instead watching his hand as he grabs your calf and pulls it up. "It's a little late for that," he hums, adjusting his grip to hold onto your ankle instead. His fingers are long enough to wrap fully around it and then some.
"I can't watch you all the time, and I need to buy myself enough time to get something to restrain you with... besides, you deserve this anyhow."
You were about to ask him what he meant by that, but with a distressing amount of ease, he twisted your ankle to the side hard enough that you could hear the pop. The pins and needles returned to that area full-force, the buzzing and numbing sensations right behind it. It didn't hurt that much, though. You could feel an ache beneath it all, but it didn't hurt as much as it should have. You were sure you could still walk on it.
Until you looked down, where it was still in his hand, twisted so far to the side that you weren't sure it would ever be the same again. It doesn't hurt that much, but your shoulders still shake and you still start to cry.
"There, there," he murmurs, dropping your ankle to stroke your hair. He leans down lower, a smile a little too sharp to be soft on his lips. "You'll be okay. I wouldn't get a pet if I couldn't take care of it."
You try to push him away. You know you need to do something about your ankle, but he only presses closer, resting more of his weight on you so thay you can't see it anymore. "It's a bit too late for that now, don't you think?" he whispers, leaning in to press his lips against yours, too eager and with too much teeth. You flail a bit, trying to push him off, but he only chuckles into the kiss, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. An arm wraps around your waist, pushing you closer.
It feels like an eternity, but soon he's sweeping you up and slinging you over his shoulder. He turns around to go back down into the canyon, and you watch Sanad's corpse disappear over the hill.
This time, you can feel him rumble with the force of his laugh.
"I'm going to have so much fun with you."
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sorencd · 10 months
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heaven knows
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pairing: neil perry x f!reader
summary: things just aren't the same with neil not around.
word count: 1.1k
a/n: WHY DO I DOP THIS TO MY SELFH SOBS HRHSHFHFH hve some wee little angst because after thuis i'll only be writing fluff lol
masterlist
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"come on, hurry up! my parents will hear us!" you laughed as you tugged on his arm harder, trying to help him climb up your window quicker. 
it was late at night and you were helping neil get into your room since he promised to visit you after his meeting with the poets. you were finishing up your studies when you suddenly heard neil whisper shouting from outside.
"a-alright, just let me-" he groaned, pushing himself up on a tree branch and quickly crawling into your room. you snorted at him as he fell onto the floor with a soft thud that you hoped your parents didn't hear.
"hi." he looked at you from his position down at the floor, a grin that reminded you of a child plastered across his face. 
"hi!" you beamed and extended your arm, offering him some assistance to help him stand which he gladly took. 
"sorry i took so long." he gave you an apologetic look and opened his arms, offering you a hug and you jumped onto him without hesitation, squeezing him tightly.
"i missed you so much." you said as you let him out of your grip and sat on your bed, patting the empty spot beside you. gesturing him to come to bed.
today was a rather tiring day for you since you had to finish a lot of things, complete a lot of requirements, and overall everything's taking a toll on you. what you really needed right now is the loving presence of your boyfriend.
after he sat down, you both got situated and cozy in each others comfort. he gently wrapped his arms around you and gave a soft kiss on your forehead. you looked at him with a tender smile. "i saw a cute dog on my way back home. it was about… this small." you whispered and lifted your hands to show neil how small it was.
"really? i saw one too, on my way here. maybe we saw the same dog. what color was it?"
you stopped for a moment to recall what the dog looked like, "it was white with a few brown and black spots on its back and face."
he perked up, his favorite smile of yours making another appearance on his face. "we saw the same one!"
you both shared a hushed snicker while you talked about your day. it was moments like these that really compensated for anything bad that happened to you. neil was there to cheer you up, he was there to make you feel better whenever you needed him. and the same goes for him. 
"your play's tomorrow! i've been waiting for it for like, ever." you whispered, holding his hand in yours. "i'm excited!"
"me too." he paused, an earnest expression replacing his once tender smile. "you'll be there for me, right?" he asked as he leaned his cheek on top of your head, pulling you closer.
"of course i will. obviously. i'd never miss your launch into hollywood." you and your boyfriend chortled lowly to each other, desperately trying to not make too much noise. you wished you could stay in his embrace until the end of time, just have the world go on and let the two of you cuddle. you weren't asking for too much. but this cruel world was unfair.
it was the morning after neil's play, after he had to abruptly go home without warning because of his father. you woke up to your mother calling for you downstairs.
"(y/n)! there's someone on the phone looking for you!"
you hurriedly hopped out of bed and made your way downstairs. you took the phone from your mother's grasp and put your ear next to it.
"hello?" 
“(y/n),” the voice behind the phone halted with a heavy sigh, he sounds like he’s having a hard time getting his words out. “i..i’m sorry..”  it was todd. why was he phoning you this early? why was he saying sorry? “it’s neil.. he’s…” 
you couldn’t hear what he was saying. the ringing in your ears blocked out half of the stuff todd said. your vision started blurring and it was like your world was spinning. you couldn’t breathe.
you quickly jumped up from your bed. disoriented, out of breath and heart racing fast. what was that? was that a dream or did you really answer a phone call from todd? you rubbed your eyes to wake yourself up and looked at your bedside table to check the calender, it was saturday. you and neil agreed that every weekend you'd go and visit your favorite spot in town, so you giddily stood up and went to your wardrobe to look for an outfit to wear.
memories from yesterday came back to you. neil’s play that you both have been looking forward to and how proud you were when you saw him perform on stage. he’s probably back at his dorm, talking to his friends. maybe you should give him a visit first.
you walked out your front door, with a huge smile on your face. excited to see your boyfriend today so you could shower him with all your love and affection. neil deserved it, he did amazing yesterday!
“hey (y/n)! where are you going?” your neighbor and also your childhood friend, danielle, waved as you stepped onto your front porch. her eyes were filled with empathy for some reason. why?
“i’m off to see..” you winked your eye, signalling that you were about to meet neil. you couldn’t risk revealing where you really were about to go since you told your parents you were going to pick something up from the nearby shop.
danielle’s expression suddenly turned sad, it seemed like melancholy instantly washed over her. what’s wrong? did something happen? you were so confused. she looked away to avoid your questioning gaze, she couldn't bear to face you. then it all came crashing back.
you stood there with frozen legs, the painful pang in your heart that once sunk down to the bottom and which you thought had gone away returning, the soreness in your eyes that you chose to ignore stung as you blinked and blinked. the play you thought took place a day ago were truly the events of last week. your mind was hopelessly trying to forget and push the memory down because you just couldn't accept that neil's gone. this throbbing in your chest won't stop, it's starting to bubble up into the surface and hurt again. your head hurts again, everything hurts all over again. you wish you could phone neil and tell him everything.
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© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.
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bre1995 · 3 months
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Fellow Traveler Scenes that make me sad
Hello everyone again!! This post is going to be another lengthy one, but I hope that you enjoy <3
(Yes I know there are a lot of these moments, but these are the ones from pretty much each episode that just shatter me each time)
In episode 1 when Marcus shows up you can see the scared look on Hawks face and then when Marcus is talking about Tim. I know a lot of things went down and Hawk kept his distance, but that doesn't mean he still wasn't scared.
Episode 2 when Hawk is making Skippy write that letter. You know 99% of those words are for Tim and you can see Hawk getting emotional when saying them and when Tim stops writing you know that he realizes that those words aren't just for Mary they are for Tim and that just shatters me.
Episode 3 when Hawk goes to Tim's apartment and even though Mary and Marcus had been telling him how bad things were, Hawk witnessing it for himself completely overwhelmed him and you could see it on his face. Also, when he excuses himself to the bathroom and almost starts crying because he realizes that he will be losing his Skippy sooner than he thinks. Then later in the restaurant when Tim is singing 'Perhaps' he looks at Hawk and some of the words he's singing and the force in which he says them you know are directed at Hawk and then he gets upset when he realizes he has embarrassed Hawk.
Episode 4 When Hawk has to take the lie detector test. Him having to mentally and physically prepare himself so that he can pass. Him lying about loving Tim (which was also was the longest pause of any of the questions), but that is also one of my favorite parts because he was wearing the tie Tim got him for Christmas, but the fact that he had to lie just to be able to keep his job. Just broke my heart, but also talking to Marcus you could tell that he felt completely guilty and broke his own heart. Also, in episode 4 which I know it's in the beginning when Hawk and Tim get into that huge fight and then at the end of the episode he apologizes, but Tim isn't there, but also him saying Skip instead of Skippy. There's just something about it that I can't explain.
Episode 5 Hawk not only breaks his own heart, but Tims too when he tells Tim that he's going to ask Lucy to marry him. When Hawk says that you can SEE it on his face that he doesn't want this to be happening and doesn't want to do it, but he FEELS like it's what he has to do. Also, Tim you can tell was absolutely shattered too and I know that's why he ends up signing up for the army. In this same episode when Hawk and Tim are in the bell tower and Hawk goes "Skippy, I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier." Hawk is so sad, broken, and doesn't want this to be happening. Also, Tim's "promise you won't write." These two love each other so much and it just pains me they can't be together the way they want to.
Episode 6 when Skippy comes to the house and looks in from the trees and sees Hawk with his family. I do love Tims bond with Jackson and the conversation they had about Hawk. In that moment you can tell Tim has no resentment fully towards Hawk at all and understands how he has to love and HOW he loves.
Episode 7 I know the threesome was sloppy and everything, but the small little moments between Skippy and Hawk just make me tear up. When Tim starts rubbing Hawks back and plays with his earlobe like he's always done thats my sign of him saying "I'm here for you and I've got you." The next part in this clip is when Hawk sees Jacksons picture and fully shuts down and starts to panic. Then him starting to break down and apologizing because he feels like he can't cry and Tim tells him its ok and then thats when Hawk fully lets go. Hawks "Let me die." Literally SHATTERS my heart. Hawk is so broken and hurt and that just makes me hurt. But when he full on has the breakdown is when I lost it. You can just see all the pain and anguish on his face. He really did need Skippy. At the end of the episode even though he has no one to blame, but himself, Hawk starting to panic and freak out about Skippy leaving and saying he's free of Hawk really got to him. He felt like he lost him again forever. Then the flash to the present of Hawk at the hospital while Skippy is in the hospital bed. The fear and sadness on his face. But that kiss to the forehead in a public place just makes me tear up so, so hard. It was the first time Hawk had done something like that in a public setting.
Finally episode 8 the one that never fails to make me SOB every time. Tim telling Hawk that he woke up not knowing who he was and Hawk saying "Timothy David Laughlin, that adorable Catholic Boy from Staten Island." Tim returning from the army and reuniting with Hawk (yeah I know that's not sad, but it is special) and him almost getting his dream job. Recommended by Hawk and then skip to the naked slow dance (which is just so beautiful and emotional in itself) you see Hawk so at peace and happy then he's ever been and then Tim says they will be colleagues and see each other every day. You could immediately see the panic and fear on Hawks face. Then you get Hawk turning Tim in and then crying to Mary (rightfully so). Then going to the hospital to see baby Jackson and immediately thats when we and Tim find out why Hawk did what he did, but it doesn't make it any easier. Skip to Hawk climbing into Tim's hospital bed and holding him and Tim saying "I feel like I'm fading away. I'm disappearing a little every day." the way he says it just shatters me (I'm crying even typing it). Then eventually Hawk asking if he owns a tuxedo, them at the gala, and of course Tim's speech to Hawk. "I have loved you my whole life. I've never loved anyone, but you. You were my great, consuming love. And most people don't get one of those. I did. I have no regrets." That whole part of the speech makes me cry every time. Add on top of Hawk's kiss and Tim savoring it and then teasing Hawk like he always does. Tim wiping away Hawk's tears. Hawk telling Tim that he wants to show up for Tim, but Tim (understandably) sends him home. Even though Tim is his home. The "Hey Skippy! Promise you won't write" "I won't" being their last words to each other. My goodness let the tears roll. (Again crying while typing this). Skip to the Aids Quilt and Hawk finds Tims square and Kimberly coming up to him. Hawk trying to hide his tears and then just letting them flow with the quote "Sweetheart, he wasn't my friend. He was the man I loved." *Cue more tears from me* I know it took him until after Tim died to admit it, but I choose to believe that in that moment Tim was looking down and would be so, so proud of Hawk. I'm also glad that he has Kimberly and she's still sticking by his side. But the show ending on that note is so beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time. I know this was another long one, but I'm so passionate about this show. Please feel free to share your favorite moments or even add to this!! I am up for conversation anytime :)
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zapreportsblog · 9 months
Note
Hiii, so, I don't know if you like the movies/series, if you don't, that's ok. I was thinking about a female reader who's living with Hannibal (don't really care if it's the TV or the movie one) and they're in a relationship, but she never tasted the human flash because she's vegan, buttttttt he started to tell her "it's not the same, humans are the ones hurting animals, mistreating the world, being cruel to anything and everyone, even with other humans", being manipulative, and she decides that It may be true after seeing something bad happening with animals and she tries and feel some sort of revange and that's the only meat she'll ever eat. I got it if you think it's too much or too weird, I just have a thing with Hannibal (??? Weird, I know) but thanks either way ☺️
I had to pause from starting a request because the fact you said “weird ik” caught my attention, there is nothing weird about having a thing for Hannibal I repeat, THERE 👏🏾IS 👏🏾NOTHING 👏🏾WRONG 👏🏾WITH 👏🏾HAVING 👏🏾A 👏🏾THING 👏🏾FOR 👏🏾HANNIBAL 👏🏾
Now lemme get started one this
❝humans are no different from animals❞
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✭ pairing : Hannibal lector x reader
✭ fandom : slashers x reader
✭ summary : (y/n) is Hannibal lectors vegan partner and she doesn’t necessarily minds his eating habits but when he brings some things to her attention she begins taking a different approach with her own eating habits
✭ authors note : wow my first hannibal lector story, to be a dick I added this to the vegan lifestyle tag that way if anyone goes there they can find my sick and twisted story :)
✭ slashers masterlist
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Hannibal Lecter, renowned psychiatrist and connoisseur of fine cuisine, found himself in an unexpected relationship with (Y/N), a passionate vegan who had never tasted meat. Their connection was both intriguing and complex, as their differing perspectives on food and ethics often collided.
One evening, as they sat together in Hannibal's elegant dining room, surrounded by the opulence of his home, the topic of Hannibal's unique culinary preferences arose. (Y/N), driven by curiosity and a desire to understand Hannibal on a deeper level, mustered the courage to broach the subject. "Hannibal," she began, her voice filled with genuine interest, "I've always wondered why you choose to consume human flesh. It seems contradictory to your beliefs and values."
Hannibal's piercing gaze met (Y/N)'s, his eyes filled with a mix of intensity and understanding. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. "(Y/N), my dear, I understand your concerns and the apparent contradiction that arises from my dietary choices," he replied, his voice smooth and measured. "But allow me to shed some light on my perspective."
He paused for a moment, his fingers delicately intertwining as he continued, "Humans, unlike animals, possess a unique capacity for cruelty and destruction. We are the ones who have caused immense suffering to the animal kingdom, exploiting and mistreating them for our own gain." Hannibal's words hung in the air,
He paused, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing. "Humans are the ones who have caused immense suffering to animals, mistreated the world, and shown cruelty to one another. By consuming those who have committed heinous acts, I am, in a way, purging the world of its darkness."
(Y/N) listened intently, her brows furrowing as she grappled with the complexity of Hannibal's explanation. She had always believed in the inherent goodness of humanity, despite its flaws.
“But Hannibal," she replied, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and disbelief, "isn't it a slippery slope? How can you be sure that you're not becoming the very thing you despise?" Hannibal leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative.
“I understand your concern, (Y/N). It's a delicate balance, one that I constantly navigate. But by consuming those who have caused harm, I believe I am serving justice in my own way. I am not indiscriminate in my choices; I carefully select those who have shown no remorse for their actions." He paused, his gaze unwavering.
"In a world filled with darkness, I strive to bring balance. By removing the wicked, I hope to create a world where goodness can flourish."
(Y/N) sat in silence, her mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. She had always believed in the power of compassion and forgiveness, but Hannibal's perspective challenged her deeply held beliefs.
It was now another day, or night in this case. The moon hung high in the night sky as (Y/N) found herself standing in Hannibal's meticulously designed kitchen, surrounded by the intoxicating aroma of a carefully prepared meal. Her heart raced with a mix of trepidation and curiosity, for tonight, she had made a decision that would forever change her perception of the world.
Driven by a desire for justice and a newfound understanding of Hannibal's perspective, (Y/N) had decided to partake in a meal of cooked human flesh. It was a choice born out of a deep-seated anger and a need to reclaim power in a world that often seemed cruel and unjust on animals.
As she sat at the dining table, Hannibal gracefully moved around the room, his presence both comforting and enigmatic. He understood the weight of (Y/N)'s decision and knew that this moment would be pivotal in their relationship.
“(Y/N)," Hannibal began, his voice a soothing melody, "what you are about to experience is a journey of emotions. It is natural to feel a mix of revulsion, curiosity, and even a sense of empowerment. Allow yourself to embrace these emotions, for they are the essence of our shared humanity."
With each carefully plated dish, Hannibal guided (Y/N) through the intricacies of her meal. The first bite, tender and succulent, filled her mouth with a richness she had never experienced before. The flavors danced on her tongue, a symphony of tastes that both intrigued and unsettled her.
As (Y/N) took another bite, her mind began to wander, memories of the injustices she had witnessed flooding her thoughts. She recalled the images of animals suffering at the hands of humans, the pain and cruelty inflicted upon them.
In that moment, the revulsion she had initially felt transformed into a simmering anger, a desire for retribution. Hannibal, ever perceptive, sensed the shift in (Y/N)'s emotions. He approached her with a calm demeanor, his eyes filled with understanding.
"(Y/N), my dear, anger can be a powerful force for change," he said softly. "But it is important to channel that anger towards a purpose, to seek justice rather than revenge. Remember, we are not defined by the darkness within us, but by how we choose to navigate it."
His words resonated within (Y/N), a reminder that her actions were not driven solely by vengeance but by a desire to bring balance to a world plagued by cruelty. She took a deep breath, allowing her anger to subside, replaced by a newfound sense of purpose.
With each bite, (Y/N) experienced a kaleidoscope of emotions. There was a strange satisfaction in consuming the flesh of those who had caused harm, a twisted sense of justice that she couldn't deny. And yet, there was also a lingering unease, a reminder of the fine line she walked between righteousness and darkness.
As the meal drew to a close, (Y/N) found herself grappling with the complexity of her choices. She had tasted the forbidden, walked a path few dared to tread. And in doing so, she had come face to face with the shadows that dwelled within her own soul. Hannibal, ever the guide, reached out and gently took (Y/N)'s hand.
“Remember, my dear, that darkness and light exist within us all. It is our choices that define us, and the way we navigate the shadows that determine our true nature."
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Text
Not Useless
Pairing: Finarfin x reader
Summary: Finarfin goes to meet his family. Later, the Reader finds him crying in the garden.
Warnings: Insecurities, I'm not the biggest fan of Finwë and it shows
A/N: First of all I would like to tag @batsyforyou (I hope I did this right, I never did this on tumblr before) and then I would like you to know, that right now I really LOVE Finarfin, so there are going to be more fics with him in the future. If anyone of you has a certain idea of just something you would like to see in a Finarfin x reader fic, just write it in the comments or in a reblog. Anyways, hope you enjoy this!
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
When you woke up in the afternoon, you felt a little better than before.
Since yesterday morning you had been plagued by a dry throat and a running nose and that morning you had felt so bad that you hadn't even been able to get out of bed properly.
So Finarfin, whom you had been courting for several months now, had gone to the feast with his family alone.
At first he hadn't wanted to leave you alone in this state, but in the end you had convinced him to go.
However, you had to promise your beloved Arafinwë that you would send someone after him as soon as you felt too unwell.
You didn't know how much time had passed since Finarfin had left, but it must have been several hours.
Carefully, you sat up in your warm bed and realised with relief that the dizziness that had plagued you a few hours ago had passed.
You decided that some fresh air would certainly do you good and slowly got up.
You went to the wardrobe and pulled out one of Finarfin's cloaks and wrapped yourself in it. The cloak was a little too long at the back, but you didn't care. You would walk carefully anyway, just in case you got dizzy again. Besides, it was more important for you to have some of your Finarfin with you now. Satisfied, you breathed in the scent of his cloak and made your way outside.
There was a large garden behind the house, where Finarfin and you often went on picnics or where he planted new flowers every week because they reminded him of your beauty.
The warm summer breeze flowed through your hair and you immediately felt more alive.
But this feeling was immediately interrupted by something that made your heart sink.
A little ahead of you, Finarfin was sitting on a small white marble staircase with his back to you, which is why he hadn't discovered you yet, sobbing loudly.
As you stepped closer to him, you could see that he had buried his face in his hands and his shoulders were shivering terribly.
You knew the shivering wasn't from the cold, but you took the cloak off your shoulders and wrapped it around his.
He looked up, startled. Tears were running down his cheeks and there was a look in his eyes that broke your heart.
You had always seen something sad in Finarfin's eyes, as if he was carrying an invisible burden that he was not yet ready to tell you about, but that was nothing compared to the desperate and sad expression that now shone in his eyes now.
"Arafinwë?" you asked softly and sank down on the step next to him. Finarfin's cheeks coloured slightly and he pressed his lips into a thin line. Then he whispered softly, "I am sorry. I did not want you to see me like this."
You let out a surprised noise. "What are you talking about? Did you sit out here so I would not notice you crying?" you asked, shocked.
Finarfin nodded and another tear made its way down his cheek. You reached out your hand to catch the tear.
"Why?" you asked softly. "You are my dearest Arafinwë! I love you and when you are feeling bad, I want to help and make things better. After all, that is what you always do when I am feeling bad."
At these words, Finarfin looked at you with a gentle gaze and gently took your hands in his. "Vanimelda," he whispered and gently kissed both of your hands. "It is not that I do not trust you my love. It is more that I- " He paused briefly. "What I am saying is that ever since I was little, I have felt that I am not enough."
You could see that it was difficult for him to admit this. He continued: "People have always seen me as the little brother of Fëanáro or Ñolofinwë. But you never. With you, I always had the feeling of being alive, free from the chains of my family's expectations. But you had never seen me weak either. I was not sure how you would react if you realised how useless I really am!"
"Arafinwë!" you shouted angrily and he winced slightly. Tears ran freely down his cheeks again and he sniffled. You carefully stretched out your arms and gently wrapped them around him until his head was resting softly on your chest, you had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and were stroking the sun-coloured hair you loved so much with the other.
Then you whispered softly as tears welled up in your own eyes: "You are not useless and I never want to hear you call yourself that again! I do not know what happened to make you feel that way, but you are not."
Finarfin scrunched up his nose and let out a wet laugh. "I think my mother would like you very much," he said quietly. "She is the only one in my family who never wanted to make me feel like I had to be more than I am, but even with her I always felt like I had to do something great to make her proud, even if she always told me I was good the way I am."
"She sounds great," you whispered softly. "Like a person I would like to meet."
Then there was a brief silence before you asked, "Was it your father who made you feel that way today?"
Finarfin nodded faintly. "He gave a speech before we ate in which he said how proud he was of all his children. He spoke longest about Fëanáro and Ñolofinwë. But he also mentioned Findis and Írimë and talked about their achievements. Only me - he did not even mention me. When my mother and Ñolofinwë asked him about it after dinner, they had no idea that I was listening, my father said he would only mention me when I had done something worth mentioning."
Your heart beat faster with anger. How could anyone be so unfair? "Now listen to me," you said in a firm tone. "Your father is an idiot if he thinks you cannot do anything outstanding. I have rarely seen anyone as gentle and good-natured as you and who cares as much about others as you do. Anyone who has you in their life is very lucky because you are the best person I know. The way you feel for others is unique and makes you such a wonderful person. The most wonderful person in the world, in my eyes."
You made him look at you and rested your forehead against his. "And even if that was not the case, it is incredibly cruel of him to judge his children by what they have achieved in their lives. He should love you all equally, after all, that is what a father is there for."
Finafin's eyes lit up in a way you had never seen before. For a moment you were afraid you had said something that had hurt him, but then he smiled gently.
"I think," he said, "I have just fallen in love with all over again."
He pressed his lips gently to yours and you let yourselves sink backwards to the floor. Finarfin gently stroked your hair and arms as your legs intertwined and whispered words of love against your lips.
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weak4skz · 1 year
Text
Hope is For Suckers
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Han Jisung x Reader
Genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst, idol au
Summary: Han and y/n have been friends since before they remember. But what happens if their friendship is severed by an unfortunate situation and Han goes off to be an idol while y/n is in college. When they connect through a mutual friend, what happens then?
Word Count: 1.3k (sorry it's short I'm just trying to get this chapter out)
CHAPTER WARNINGS: eating disorder, negative self talk/thoughts, body dysorphia, a lot of feelings, panic attack
NOT PROOF READ!!!
THIS IS NOT AN ACCURATE REPRESTATION OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED IN THE FIC
A/N: Sorry for the really late update. I've been really busy and haven't been really motivated to write. I might but HIFS on hiatus until July but idk yet. Thank you for all the support though, I really appreciate it
want2besomeoneelse lixie-jisung-stan jisuperboard mentoslol i-dont-know-me-either mooncallerautumn poisonivy21
this is my current taglist. if your name is in read it means I can't tag you. also please comment if you would like to be added
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When we pull into Chan’s designated parking spot I’m so nervous I could puke. 
“Hey,” Chan says, gently putting a hand on my knee to stop its bouncing. “They’ll all love you just as much as I do. But if you still want to go home I’ll drive you ‘kay?”
“No, I want to meet them.” I force out of my mouth. He just nods and we both get out of the car and begin to walk towards the door. When he opens it, the first thing I notice is the smell of freshly baked brownies. Then, I hear yelling and laughing coming from the living room.
“YOU landed on MY property. PAY ME THE DANG FINE.” 
Then I fear another voice scream
“YOU’RE IN JAIL! I’M NOT GIVING MONEY TO A CRIMINAL.”
“THAT’S NOT HOW YOU PLAY!!!” the first screams.
All of this over a game of monopoly? 
“Boys” I mutter with a playful roll of my eyes. “I know right” Chan responds with a small smile.
Chan leads me to the living room. “Hey guys” he greets the six men casually.
“Hey Chan hyung.” one with mid length dark hair and glasses responds. “Who’s that?” he asks, pointing to me.
“This is Y/n. She’s a good friend of mine and older than half of you so show some manners and introduce yourselves.”
“I’m Jeongin” glasses says.
“Seungmin”
“I’m Felix”
“I’m sexy king Hyunjin”
“Man shut up.” the shortest says with a small laugh, “I’m Changbin”
“I’m Minho”
Then they go around again and tell me their ages. But I thought Chan told me they’re were eight members in his group? As I finish my thought, someone bursts in through the door.
“‘Sorry I’m late guys. Oh hi… what’s your name? I’m…”
“Han?”
There is a pause, a moment of silence, and for a second I regret saying anything.
“Uh yea, I’m Han Jisung. How did you know my name?”
“Chan talks about you gusy all the time. I just assumed it was you because you were the only one missing. I’m Y/n''
oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh there is no way HAN JISUNG the man who is (partially) responsible for my villain backstory is the eighth member of Chan’s band
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick” I say, trying to excuse myself from the source of my impending panic attack. I speed walk to Chan’s bathroom and lock the door behind me. Once I get the feeling that I’m safe, I slide my back down the door and sit on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and burying my head between them. Then I try to regulate my breathing before I start hyperventilating.
Breath in, one two three, breath out. Breath in, one two three, breath out
I repeat it over anad over again until my breathing is as regulated as it is going to get. Then, I get up and fix my mascara and blot away the bits that escaped with my tears.
I walk out of the bathroom and find Chan alone in the kitchen. “Hey Chan, I’m feeling kind of sick so I think I’m going to head home.” 
“Are you okay? You were fine when we were at lunch.” he looked concerned. Great, now I feel bad for lying
“I just got really bad cramps out of nowhere. And you know I get crabby wehen I don’t feel very well.” I try to end the conversation quickly so he doesn’t catch me lying. “Oh, I didn’t know you were on your period. I would have just brought lunch to your place. Let me go get my keys so I can get you home, kay?” 
My period? Ohhhh, he thinks I’m on my period. Thank God he thought I was on my dperiod because I hadn’t thought that far into my lie. While celebrating that little victory, Han walks into the kitchen. 
“Oh hey. I saw you were looking sick and I wanted to come check up on you” he said while grabbing a soda from the fridge. “Yea I just have really bad cramps.” I lied again.
“That sucks,” he started, taking a sip of his fanta. “Hey, I was just wondering if you went to Fairview High School. You kinda look like this girl I used to hang out with.”
“Uh yeah, I went there. I thought I knew you from somewhere but I couldn’t tell.” I responded. ‘A girl I used to hang out with’ huh. Was I really the only one that was thinking about our relationship for the past seven years. Not gonna lie, that kind of hurt. Because up to a couple moments ago I thought very highly of Han, I still considered him a friend. Because he had been my only friend for so long, I sort of held hope that he would be my friend forever. But I was too naive, I should have known he would forget me. I mean, I’m not that memorable; but I thought I would at least be more than a girl he ‘used to hang out with.’
Not a moment later, Chan comes back into the kitchen with my shoes. “Oh, hey Han. The kids are waiting for you so they can start a new game of uno.”
“Ok. Nice catching up with you Y/N.” I mustered the nicest smile I could at the moment and responded with a bitter ‘you too’ before moving to hop off the counter to put on my shoes. 
Chan holds me down by my knees and kneels down to lace up my converse himself. “What were you guys talking about?” he asked after tying the first shoe. “We used to go to the same highschool.”
“Cool, were you guys friends?” Chan asks, now finished with tying both shoes. “I thought so” I mumble, mostly to myself. 
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bil-daddy · 5 months
Note
hi mr bildad um im just gonna dump this here since i have no one else to talk to
as someone who has always praised in their ability to be friends with anyone (i also need human interaction to survive btw) ive been feeling very lonely, especially since now are the school holidays.
my best friend (who is one year older than me) is barely online and doesn't take me seriously enough. and when i ask my friend group (with 2 other people my age) if they want to go out nothing happens. ive asked so many times but it's like they just don't want to hang out. and i keep seeing them post everywhere of them having fun with their OTHER friends (i don't know them bc they're from their primary schools; we are in secondary school now). and the obvious solution is to hang out with my primary school friends, right? well awesome news I DONT HAVE ANY.
and like ive just been feeling really really lonely especially today. i don't even text anyone except for my best friend, and even then she doesnt really respond properly because its like i dump a lot of messages and 4 hours later she skims through them, rinse and repeat.
(also side note i used to have another best friend but he ended up having a crush on me and didn't give me space so i kinda ended the friendship bc i wasn't comfortable with it)
during my entire TWO MONTH school holiday i haven't gone out with friends. not even once. while i see everyone else my age having so much fun and enjoying life while i just rot at home scrolling through tumblr.
so yeah im not really having a great time. hopefully when i get back to school in january things will be better
sorry for the long rant
Hey, kid (human). No need to apologize for the long rant. Actually, I've got a lot to say about this topic, too, so take a toilet break, grab a beverage and a snack, then sit down with your deal old Bildaddy (platonic, metaphorical) for a chat.
First off, sorry you're going through this. It hurts a lot when friends start fading away, and you realize they no longer consider you as close and you consider them. Feeling left out and like you don't have any real friends seriously sucks.
But it's actually something every single person goes through at some time or another--though most of us aren't brave enough to admit it like you have, because it feels embarrassing and shameful. Like there's something wrong with you.
There isn't.
There is nothing wrong with you.
Friends come and go, and 99% of the time it has nothing to do with you, or anything you've said or done. It isn't your fault. That doesn't mean it hurts any less, but it isn't your fault.
But that being said, I promise you, for every person you see pictures of having so much fun and enjoying life, there are twenty--probably even more--at home like you, scrolling tumblr, or tiktok, or reddit, or whatever the kids are scrolling these days.
And even those people you see posting pictures, that isn't their everyday life. They post pics of the good times, not the bad ones (well not usually) or the boring ones. Especially not the boring ones. I bet they do more sitting at home and scrolling than you think. They're just not advertising that for all their followers to see.
But that's not the point. The point is (dolphins! goats!) your current friends aren't fulfilling your need for socialization. And that means you need to find some new friends, anon.
You can still stay friends with your best friend and that old friend group. As in, don't send them a message officially ending the friendship, and don't delete and/or block them everywhere. You can still talk to them in school when you see them.
(Do unfollow them on social media if seeing them hang without you is upsetting--or better yet, pause on using social media entirely--except for tumblr, of course--until you're in a better place, mentally and emotionally. Bildaddy deleted instagram five years ago and never went back.)
But starting today, back off on asking these friends to hang out, and sending long text messages to your best friend that she only skims through. They're not matching your energy, so you need to start matching theirs. Either they'll notice the difference and start making more of an effort (no, not that kind), or they won't and they won't. But either way, you'll stop wasting your time.
Next, you take all the energy you were spending on your old friend group and start looking for new friends.
While you're still on winter break, there might not be as many opportunities, but there are some possibilities. Do you have any cousins around your age who might wanna hang out? Or maybe there are local events aimed at teenagers you can attend? Check libraries and community centers. Or on New Year's Eve, there might be some sort of Parents Night Out event you can volunteer for and help babysit a group of little kids, along with other teenagers that you could befriend?
Then, when winter break ends, look around your school for other students who might be in your same situation--and trust me there are others in your same situation. Is there someone who always sits alone at lunch? Or what about that kid in class who's too shy to speak up? Is there someone getting bullied or ostracized? Someone new to the school who hasn't made any friends yet? Look for the ones who might need a friend as much--or even more--than you do and try to befriend them.
It won't always work, no, cause nothing always works. But it will work sometimes. And you only need it to work enough times to make a couple friends. And if you make the right friend, they might have a friend group that you can join.
I know it's really scary to put yourself out there and make the first move. But you'd be surprised how receptive people are, especially the shy ones who are too scared to say 'hi' first, and rely on the braver ones, like you, for the human connection they need. Because we all need it. (Even me. Because I'm totally 100% human.)
Other ways to make friends are clubs, in school and out of school, which is probably what adults will suggest if you ask them, so I'm not going to spend much time on this. But they're right. If you're not already in clubs--academic, sports, art, books, music, anime, whatever your interest(s) is--join some! If there's nothing of interesting at your schools, churches and other local organizations might also have youth clubs and activities, too.
Shared interests in a sure way to make friends. I see it happening all the time on Tumblr. Those mutuals you wish didn't live so far away? Well, you can find mutuals just like them IRL! (Especially if you start or join a book club that reads Good Omens, or a tv show club that watches Good Omens)
Another option is getting a part-time job at a place other teenagers work. If this is something you can do without disrupting your schoolwork, try it. Fast food restaurants, cinemas, places like that.
You say you're someone who has the ability to be friends with anyone? Well, prove it! This isn't a threat, by the way. This is encouragement. I'm encouraging you.
Now go out there and make some friends, kid! I know you can do it! I believe in you, and everybody here is rooting for you.
And, as always, have an ox rib (platonic)
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fatuismooches · 1 year
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hi hello hows your day first of all you're my favorite harbinger writer thank you for the food ily
second, that dottore bf texts got me thinking THOUGHTS. ok so like dottore feels bad about not being able to come up with results right. so everytime he arrives at another dead end, he feels ashamed?? and doesn't want to face them so he'd just stand in front of their door silently and unmoving. at first the segments are shocked to see their creator HESITATE because he never hesitates?? especially when it comes to them??? but soon the segments(unfortunately) get used to the sight and take it as a sign not to talk to him. even tho it happened multiple times now, he still unconsciously goes to them bc he just finds their company comforting even back in their akademiya days but he can't bring himself to so he just stands there :(( and he can't let the reader know he does this bc hes scared they might lose hope if they did :((
I'm sorry if it's not coherent/hard to read or ooc DJSNSNA ITS LATE BUT I WAS IN THE MOOD TO REREAD YOUR WORKS AGAIN
WHAT ILY MORE ANON... YOU'RE TOO SWEET!!! AND OH MY GOD THIS IS SO SAD AND DELICIOUS... I'M JAWDROPPED
It's almost laughable how slow it's taking him to cure you. To think that such a thing would have him, of all people, so stumped is incredulous. Only that your condition was no laughing matter at all.
Normally, failure was something that he was unaccustomed to, but not necessarily a bad thing. Failure bears fruit in ways you'd never know. But in this case, it fills him with a variety of negative emotions. This wasn't just a research project, this was your life. And the only fruit being born turns out to be rotten in the end.
After another one of these mishaps, Dottore automatically finds himself walking to your quarters. Your company had never failed to be a plus for him. Other people were so noisy, bothersome. You were different. So lovely, to the point he was walking across the Akademiya's grounds to find you.
But outside your door, he pauses. Does he really have the right to go in there and act like everything is fine and dandy? Like he has everything under control? As if he didn't just make zero progress? Dottore just stands outside your door, straining his ears to hear your humming, or the stretching of pencil against paper, or whatever it is that you do to keep yourself occupied now.
The sight of the segments' creator hesitating to touch the doorknob is a sight to see. Perhaps, the rarest thing they've seen in all of their lives. They know him very well. And to see him do such a thing is something they'll silently remember for a long time. But when he does it again? They know better not to say anything. After all, they can feel each other's emotions. They bear the weight of their creator's pain too.
Dottore is not someone who particularly believes in or cares about "hope." He doesn't need to hope. Once he sets out to do something, it will happen. But, he's come to realize that you need it, something he can't ever blame you for. If keeping a cocky smirk on his face, a deep, low chuckle, and a bit of teasing here and there, will help you keep going, so be it. You shouldn't see him any other way.
He has to keep that alive for you.
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