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#this was just me writing down the words my brain was thinking
pathologicalreid · 3 days
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Spencer x fem!reader fic based on “Work Song” by Hozier?? Whatever storyline or category you want!!
work song | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, near death experience, blood, gunshot wound, hospitals. word count: 1.77k a/n: hozier song request makes my brain go brr. i hope the people of tumblr enjoy this bc i most definitely enjoyed writing it.
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boys, when my baby found me
Your hair whipped your face as you spun around through the labyrinth of a warehouse that your team had found themselves in. It seemed like an impossible task, trying to navigate this space, but you had already cleared over half of the space.
A small noise, like a shoe squeaking, caught your attention, causing your ears to rise like an animal hunting for prey. Turning a corner, you had your flashlight and firearm raised, coming face to face with Morgan. The both of you relaxed ever so slightly, no longer ready to pounce.
Ricocheting throughout the warehouse, you heard a deafening gunshot. The sound bounced off of the metal walls of the building, making it almost impossible for you to determine where the sound originated from. Meeting Morgan’s eyes, he nodded his head to the left, signaling for you to go that way while he went right.
You affirmed his tactics, turning slowly and making your way to the left. The rusted building was now so eerily quiet that goosebumps were sprouting across your body, even under your bureau jacket.
Continuing your way down the narrow passageway, you saw movement inside of a room. Sliding your back along the wall, you peeked into the room, seeing two bodies on the ground. You whispered almost imperceptibly into your radio, calling for medical. One of them was the local officer that the BAU had been working the case with.
The other one was Spencer.
You pivoted so that you were entirely in the doorway, facing the UnSub, he raised his gun at you, but you were already pulling the trigger, hitting him square in the forehead. Breathing heavily, you lowered your firearm before scrambling over to Spencer.
I didn’t care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her
In your ear, you could hear Morgan shouting, “Y/N, Reid, sound off, dammit!”
Something needed to happen. You needed to do something, but you had such severe tunnel vision that the only thing you could think about was Spencer.
He was gasping for air on the metal ground of the warehouse, lying in a pool of his own blood. You observed in horror as the red puddle spread with each passing moment.
Launching into action, you tugged your jacket off, stuffing the fabric onto Spencer’s side in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Even Kevlar vests had an Achilles heel, and the UnSub had managed to strike him precisely where there was a gap in the material. All the while, you were muttering the words, “Stay awake.” Just those two words, over and over again, like a prayer.
You hummed, using one hand to apply pressure to his wound and lifting the other so that you could smooth his hair back. His skin was alarmingly clammy, and you knew that, even with your attempts, he was losing too much blood. “Y/N,” he muttered, sounding like he was using all of his strength to say your name.
Gently, you hushed him, “It’s okay, Spence. Don’t talk, you’re gonna be just fine,” you insisted as his blood soaked through the knees of your jeans. You weren’t sure who you were trying to console at that moment.
“It makes sense-“ he said, being cut off by a cough, sending blood spurting out of his mouth. If his lung was collapsing, there was nothing you’d be able to do. You tried to shush him again, but he had more to say – he almost always did. “That I’d see you while I’m dying.”
Choking on tears, you leaned your face onto your shoulder so that you could wipe them away without moving your hands. “I’m here, I’m really here,” you urged, he wasn’t hallucinating, and he wasn’t dying. Not on your watch. “It’s me, Spence. I’m right here,” you told him carefully.
He opened his mouth again to speak, and you wanted to tell him to save his strength. You also didn’t want to deprive him of his words. “You…” his voice trailed off as he searched for the words, “You’ve always been my favorite dream.”
Sniffling, you shake your head, “I’m not a dream, I’m right here.” You told him, watching carefully as his eyelids grew seemingly heavier, “baby, open your eyes.”
in the low lamplight I was free
His skin was pallid. Even in the dim, orange light of the warehouse, you could see a sickly sheen forming on his skin. His body temperature was dropping, and it was all you could do to not cover his body with yours as you tried to keep him warm. “Spencer, please,” you rasped, urging him to open his eyes.
Your only solace was that his chest was still rising and falling. His breathing was rickety, but he was still breathing, and that had to count for something. “Spencer,” you cried, watching as blood sept through your jacket, flooding between your fingers as you tried to keep him in one piece.
“Love, open your eyes,” you begged, your eyes flooding with tears until everything was just a blur of red.
His heart was beating, you could feel it beneath your hands. A weak, unsteady beat under your trembling hands. “Baby, please, oh my god,” you pleaded, verging toward incoherent babbling.
You were second-guessing if he was still breathing. If his heart was still beating. With that realization, you screamed.
when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth
At first, you were just screaming, letting the vibrations of your vocal cords portray your emotions, and then you screamed for your team. You had never felt more alone, kneeling in a puddle of Spencer’s blood, and no one was coming to help you.
This couldn’t be how it ended. You refused to acknowledge it, even as you felt the life leave his body.
Leaning your head to the side, you spoke into your radio, “I need medical. I’m in the upper west wing of the building. The suspect is dead, I have an officer and an agent down.” Tears continued to stream down your face.
You heard footsteps behind you as people piled into the room, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off Spencer. Not when there was a chance that it would be the last time you looked at him while you were both still breathing. “Agent,” someone said, but it didn’t register. They kept repeating themselves until two strong arms wrapped around you, dragging you away from Spencer.
Now sat on the floor, you clocked the paramedics that were now frantically working on Spencer, packing his wound, and cutting off the Kevlar vest.
Breathing heavily, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Rossi approached the local officer, checking his pulse. Emily was hovered over the UnSub, collecting his weapon from his corpse.
You were still being firmly held back, trying to pry the tattooed arms of Derek Morgan off of your torso. “Stop, let me get to him. I need to get to him,” you struggled against his grip, but any attempts at freedom were futile. The medics were saying awful things about a weak and thready pulse and pneumothorax.
Clinging to any semblance of hope that you could find, you listened to them talk about Spencer’s pulse, knowing that a pulse meant he was alive.
Your breathing quickened as you looked up at Morgan, Hotch was hovering behind the two of you, “I should’ve called for medical sooner.” Your voice was miserable, you had sat there with your jacket to his side for far too long. He could’ve gotten help from professionals.
“You radioed almost five minutes ago for medical,” Morgan informed you. “The EMTs just couldn’t find you in this damn maze.”
While you had no recollection of calling for help when you first found Spencer, you also knew that Morgan would get no pleasure out of lying to you.
You heard one of the paramedics say there was no pulse, and you didn’t remember anything that followed.
no grave can hold my body down
Crumpled in a ball, you picked at the crusted blood in your fingernails as you focused on the steady beeping of Spencer’s heart monitor.
According to Emily, who had been there when you woke up in the hospital, you had passed out around the time that the medics lost Spencer’s pulse. The doctor said it was just a result of stress. Thanks to some IV fluids and hydroxyzine, you were able to be discharged.
Spencer had been out of surgery for several hours now. The doctors had been careful to use the term “if he wakes up”, while you had made sure to say “when he wakes up.” You were playing the most horrendous waiting game, and there’s nothing worse than playing a game you have no interest in.
You were now donning a pair of black sweatpants and an old Academy t-shirt. Being the only team member permitted to see Spencer while he was still sleeping – girlfriend privileges, as Morgan phrased it – you waited with only the noises of his monitor to keep you company in the ICU.
Nurses came in and out, trying to manage his pain without the use of narcotics, making sure his blood transfusions were helping, and every once in a while, they’d check on you.
At this point, you had been nursing the same cup of ice water for hours, remembering the last thing Spencer had said to you: You’ve always been my favorite dream.
There was something so peculiar about being with someone who read so much, especially when he said such eloquent things while bleeding to death. You sighed, slumping back in the chair, you looked back at Spencer, only to be surprised that he was looking right back at you.
You jumped slightly in the chair, leaning over so that you could look at him, “Hey,” you whispered, maintaining the reverent tones of the Intensive Care Unit. “How do you feel?”
He’d lie to you and tell you he was fine, but you could tell by the way his heart rate increased that it was a lie. His eyebrows furrowed as he clocked the white patient ID bracelet on your wrist and your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been crying,” he observed.
Despite yourself, you smiled softly, “I thought you were dead.” Your voices were each raspy, yours from screaming and his from being intubated.
Slowly, he unfolded his arm so that his hand was extended to you. Without a second thought, you placed your hand in his. He hummed softly, “And leave you? Never.”
I’ll crawl home to her
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blixssily · 1 day
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"i love you, it's ruining my life."
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| being bailed out by your ex is sure to bring back lingering feelings, no?
| dazai osamu x reader
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˓ ꒱ notes and disclaimers: pm!reader and ada!dazai. dazai is reader's ex lover from the port mafia. gn reader. reader and dazai are both in their 20s. incorrect jail description. not proof read, apologies for any grammatical mistakes! might be incredibly ooc and might contain wrong information about the port mafia, apologies for both.
˓ ꒱ authors notes: in light of taylor swift's new album coming out, i'm trying my hand at writing for dazai!! i'm bad at writing angst so please bare with me. :(
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the cold metal confinements are tight around wrists, the officers must've cuffed you a tiny bit too tightly you think. the blank grey walls of your prison are as uninspiring as your thoughts, you can't even find it in yourself to even try to escape from jail. to the majority of the members in the Port Mafia, crime was almost always a guarantee during missions. treading the lines of the law was a common thing, most missions included breaking those precious regulations. it was almost like the law had just become mere suggestions, guidance that you could choose to follow or not.
and sadly for you, the hands of the law had finally caught up with you this time, confining you into a bland concrete box. you were currently sitting on the bed that came with every little cell. not even sitting on it was comfortable, much less laying down on it. despite how uncomfortable the bed was, it would be quiet a pathetic sight for a Port Mafia executive to be sitting on the floor and just staring at the wall so you decided against it.
normally whenever you were unlucky enough to have been caught by the law, someone from the Port Mafia would bail you out, namely Mori or maybe some other executive. you weren't too surprised when an officer informed you that you had been bailed out, preparing your usual apology and to listen through a few lectures from whoever bailed you out on to be more careful during missions.
you're escorted out of your little concrete box, you wonder if the officer is going to remove the hand cuffs around your wrists. you follow the officer down the prison hallway, thankful to not be sitting on that god awful bed that you could've sworn was just a rock with a blanket draped over it. you're expecting to be met with a very displeased boss, preparing your apology for your clumsiness in being caught when.. you don't see him at all. in fact, you see someone you thought you'd never see again.
he looks.. different. he's grown taller, you're sure of it. he's been ridden of his usual black trench coat you always saw him in, his right eye and cheek no longer being covered by the fabric of gauze. instead, he's wearing a tan trench coat now, a bolo tie replacing his usual tie when he was in the Port Mafia. his hair messy and curly, not that it was ever neat, god no. you stare at the absence of bandages around his right eye and cheek, revealing his complete face and you can't help but mentally kick yourself for staring a little longer than necessary.
and suddenly, you become hyper aware of the sinking feeling in your stomach. it makes you sick to look at him, sick that your brain subconsciously forces you to relive your shared memories together. you avert your gaze down to the grey grounds of the prison lobby, unable to meet his gaze without glaring bitterly at him. your ex had apparently bailed you out of jail. your ex boyfriend from years ago when you both were in the Port Mafia. a cocky little smirk adorned his features, maybe he hasn't changed that much in some ways.
you find it in yourself to look up at him, emotions brewing behind your eyes. anger, confusion.. mostly anger, and yet you find it in your heart to feel relief at that fact that he's alright. that's he's not harmed. he had up and left without a word, not even a goodbye to you. you worried for him days on end, calling and texting but to no avail which ended up in you just calling it a breakup, calling him your ex boyfriend. despite the relief, it's minuscule in terms of your anger towards the man you once loved. you glare at him, glare at his stupid cocky smirk and how he seems like he doesn't even care about the history between you two. it's like nothing ever happened between the both of you.
"you're the one who bailed me out? what is this, some sick game you've decided to play?" you scoff at him, there was no way he just.. decided to bail out a Port Mafia executive out of the goodness of his heart, no.. no no no. that couldn't be true. "shame, not even a thank you?" you roll your eyes at his feigned sigh of disappointment. an officer releases your wrists from the metal confinements, red mark were already formed on your wrist. you bring your hands to your wrists, trying to soothe your irritated skin from how tight the hand cuffs were. you don't realise the look in his eyes, the slight change in his expression when he noticed the marks on your wrists. he doesn't like seeing you hurt, he absolutely hates seeing you in pain even if it's a mere scratch or.. in this situation, marks from a police officer's hand cuffs.
"come on now, the least you could do is thank me." he says with another cocky smile, you wish you could just slap it off his face but something tells you that he wouldn't exactly be ecstatic with you slapping his face in a police station.
"what do you want?" you snapped, not in any mood to be dealing with his teasing words accompanied by his usual shit-eating grin. he couldn't have bailed you out for fun, or for some sentimental reason. he wanted something, there was also a price when it came to him. "ah, how harsh! you're breaking my heart here.." the asshole has the gull to even jokingly suggest something like that.
"nothing much, really. just thought i'd help out an old friend." he hums, and you don't know if his words only spark a new flame of anger inside of you or if it wrenches your heart. the fact that he would consider you an "old friend", when you were his literal partner when you both were teenagers.
"an old friend? be a man you asshole, own up to who you broke up with." he doesn't answer, as expected. you're not sure whether you'd even prefer a response from him or just silence.
"let's talk, hm? maybe somewhere else?" he suggests after some time, calmly putting his hands into the pockets of his tan coat. you notice the slight change in expression in his face, you've spent years trying to practically decode this man and it only added to his amusement when you both were teenagers. now, you're thankful you took the time to observe him. you don't know exactly what he wants to talk about but, you know it's something serious.
"fine." you begrudgingly agree to him, sighing as you notice him leaving without another word and you know that's your queue to follow him. you don't know what you were expecting from the bandaged man, but he leads you to a little café. you raise an eyebrow at him when you two reach the front door, not exactly expecting him to take you to a cute little café that sells pastries and drinks. he meets your suspicions gaze with an innocent smile, urging you to step inside before him. what a gentleman. you step inside the humble establishment, greeted with a friendly smile by the cashier before settling into a seat near the back. he sits opposite you, it's almost as if he's treating this like you're his friend and you both are just going for lunch.
"so? you never answered my question." you reminded him, crossing your arms as you lean back on the plush backing of the seats. "what do you want, dazai." it hurts him the way you say his name, his surname. you never did that when you both were together, he liked being addressed as 'osamu' or 'samu' by you, it feels like salt being rubbed into the wound when you call him by his surname.
"oh? i'm deciding whether to get the latte or..." he trails off, noticing the most unamused expression ever on your face. he chuckles at the sight, shaking his head. "i'm only joking." he hums, stopping his little act at looking at the menu on the table. "i.. wanted to see how you were doing, is all." he shrugs, not really having a good explanation for bringing you to this cafe or hell, even bailing you out of jail. "i mean no harm by doing any of this, truly." he adds on before you get to question him, knowing what you were just about to ask him.
did he really mean that? that he wanted to just.. talk? you don't know what you should reply with, as a Port Mafia executive you should've killed him by now for being a traitor, but as his ex.. you're not sure what to feel. truthfully, sure you were pissed off at him for leaving without a word but you just couldn't find it in yourself to hate the man.
"fine, one hour."
"oh come on, two?" he pouts childishly, a sight you hadn't seen for awhile.
"one hour and a half. make it quick." you relent once again, it seemed like he still had the ability to make you soften up to him.
and so with that, you two proceed to awkwardly choose out your drinks for the time being while at the café and try your hands at small talk. it was.. incredibly awkward between the both of you, undoubtedly it was a little weird to even talk about work since well.. him being a Detective at the ADA and with you being a Port Mafia executive, what was there to talk about? it's weird to be so stiff with someone you used to be so comfortable with, you used to be able to talk about anything when you were younger but now it's just.. not the same.
while you two were talking, your phone screen lit up. some message from another Port Mafia member came up, said something about it being urgent. "i.. have to go, it's important." you looked up from your phone to face him, rolling your eyes at the tiny little pout that graced his lips. "a shame, maybe next time?" he suggests, hoping to have another time to talk with you again. you get the feel he misses you dearly.
"maybe." you shrug, standing up from your seat. you slid a napkin over to him, pointing to the corner of your mouth to signal to him that he had something on his. he mutters a small 'thank you', a tiny bit embarrassed that he might indeed have something on the corner of his mouth. as you leave, he uses his phone to check his appearance and.. there wasn't anything there? he thinks it might just be a silly little prank on your end to tease him after so long, he mindlessly flips the napkin in his hands as he puts his phone down.
in the corner of his eye, he noticed some.. writing on the napkin. your... number? you had changed your phone number some time after he left and now, you had given him your current one! it meant that you at least weren't that mad at him after so long, and that you at least wanted to stay in contact with him.
he decides to text you, just in case you decide to change your mind in the mean time of your separation.
your phone lights up as you made your way down the street.
[unknown number, 3:46 p.m ➜ you] "same place, friday?"
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commander-rahrah · 17 hours
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I'm excited to read it too! I'm glad you find it interesting! Don't worry about your post because long! Your thoughts are so interesting!
I agree that Astarion would have to come to terms with Reader/Tav's boundaries too since it works both ways! I definitely feel that Astarion would be too lost in drinking from the blood of a sentient creature to notice the signs.
He would feel ashamed when he's aware of their fear yet they still chose to offer despite that might made him feel like he manipulated them like Cazador did to him 😭
What his excuses are if they try to offer in the early days makes sense! He would be too ashamed & terrified to have such a vulnerable conversation with them yet 😞
He would feel safe enough to bring up their fear after he confessed about everything. He would make it clear to them he doesn't want them to suffer by making them do something they don't want to like he did especially after how much they have helped him & how important they are to him 😭
He would respect their decision if they said it's too much for them. He would support everyone's personal choices & autonomies even though the concept is still new to him 😤
He would need an explanation if they insist on feeding him regardless of their fear. They would explain that not only do they trust him, they love him more than they fear it 🥹
He would only accept if they establish some ground rules 👍 like he did when it comes to physical intimacy & sex which is healthy for both of them!
I know it's unrelated but thank you for adding this because you described me pretty well 🤣 I would definitely react to even the smallest of cuts so Astarion quickly but gently sucking it & giving a small kiss on it would be a fantastic distraction 😳
You're welcome! Thank YOU for entertaining me & sharing your thoughts! I'm glad you enjoy putting Astarion and Tav/Reader in all these different scenarios too 🤍
Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD How would Astarion react to GN! Reader/Tav actually had suspicions that he's using them but still chose to believe that he's not. So when he confessed he manipulated them, they're even not angry at him.
They're sad for how much & how long he has suffered to be the way he is now, but they're also genuinely hurt that he did take advantage of their trust in him. They don't blame him but they admit it still hurts and wants some time alone to process it.
After leaving them be, they would go to him when they're ready to talk to him. They would tell him how grateful they are that he chose to come clean with them despite knowing how it would be easier for him to keep quiet for it, and thanked him for trusting them enough to be honest with them.
What do you think of it? I'm curious :3
Hi Anon! Sorry for the super late response, I let this one stew for a little while in my brain and the other night I had this dialogue idea and couldn’t resist writing a little scene about it tonight! I hope you enjoy ❤️
I envisioned this scene happens half way through his confession, and then imagined the rest of the conversation about intimacy and boundaries would happen afterwards! It’s about 1100 words, and canonical Astarion backstory warnings apply — trauma, dark thoughts, etc.
.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨
“I just — I feel awful." Astarion’s throat worked silently, his eyes glancing down to his boots. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan — seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy — instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in." He finally looked up at your face, studying intensely for your reaction. 
“I—oh,” You pulled your hand away from him as uncertainty flooded your features. He saw your eyes dart back and forth, but they weren’t studying him. No, you were lost in thought. “Oh.”
Astarion licked his lips, his hands ringing together in front of him nervously. “You have every right to be angry.”
“I’m not angry. I thought we… I don’t know what I thought.”
The rest of what he had planned to say vanished out of his mind. Instead it started to betray him, a cruel voice whispering about how he knew you would react like this. Did he really think it would go well?
His pink mouth hung open as he scrambled for what to say, trying to think of how to make this better. But he’d done enough already, hadn’t he?
You crossed your arms over your body, your cheeks flushing deeply. “I feel a bit like a fool. None of it was real, the whole time?”
“Not the whole time,” He confessed as soft, vulnerable moments with you flashed in his mind. The very moments that made him start to drop the act. “It hasn’t been as of late, but before… in the beginning, up until recently, yes.”
His red eyes followed your throat as it bobbed up and down before flicking back up to your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your mouth a sad pout.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Astarion whispered, not daring to move forward.
“I’m thinking… I need a moment.” You admitted, already looking behind you and away from him.
His heart sank, but he nodded. “I— okay. Of course.”
And then you were off, your head down as you stalked away from the edge of the beach and back to the warm glow of camp.
He stood there stunned for a moment, before turning around to stare at the dark, choppy waters in front of him. Hundreds of scenarios began to dance in his mind — what if you went back to the camp to tell the others? Would he be met by pointed blades and blazing spells? He imagined being kicked out, staked, cursed, roasted alive with fireballs. Hand delivered to Cazador as extra punishment for his sins. Anything his twisted broken mind could come up with played like a messed up vision.
Astarion didn’t even try to stop the repetitive dark thoughts. It was what he deserved.
Eventually, the vampire slinked back into the camp some time later — once the sky was inky black and the moon was the only light to illuminate the way back to his tent.
“Hi.”
The sound caused his ears and shoulders to perk up instantly. You were sat in the grass and dirt outside of his tent, your arms wrapped around your knees and pulled to your chest.
“Hi.” Gods, he sounded breathless. But he couldn’t see any weapons or angry barbarians or wizards nearby. That was a good sign, right?
“I wasn’t sure when you’d come back.”
He cocked a brow, “I figured you wouldn’t want to see me again.”
A sigh escaped your lips, “Astarion, don’t be dramatic. I asked for time to think — not for you to leave.”
He blinked at your sharp tone, but nodded his head in slight defeat. “You’re right. And you waited for me because—?”
You brushed off your clothes as you stood up to his height, “I would like to finish that conversation, if you’re ready.”
Well, there was no denying the inevitable.
He nodded his head solemnly, stepping forward to open the flap of his tent and inviting you in with a wave of his hand.
The privacy his tent offered was slight, but this late in the night he knew most of his companions would be fast asleep. Quickly lighting a lantern, he joined you on the fabric floor.
His half-dead heart was thundering, the thrumming sound echoing in his pointed ears that he almost missed your quiet voice.
“I understand.”
“What?” His brows furrowed, looking at you with confusion.
“The stories you’ve told me… your scars… I understand why you did it, why you felt the need to do it.” You explained, your voice and eyes tender as you looked at him in the low light. “But you manipulated me, Astarion. You took advantage of me, toyed with me and my emotions to get what you needed. That hurts.”
Astarion’s stomach twisted into a hard knot, “I know.”
“But you also didn’t need to tell me any of this. You could have kept pretending, kept up the charade until we faced Cazador… But you didn’t. Why?”
Now it felt like his stomach was crawling up his torso and into his throat. Gods, what was this feeling? Why did you do this to him. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before. I failed with my plan. It felt apart the moment I realized… that I had fallen for you.” He admitted, but his fluttering heart made more words stumble out of his mouth. “And I know you probably don’t believe me, why would you after everything I just told you. Trust me, nobody feels more stupid about it than I do.”
You cut off his rambling, “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think that’s probably the most honest you’ve been with me since I’ve met you,” You said earnestly. “It would have been a lot easier for you to keep on pretending, wouldn’t it? Pretend I’m just another mark, another means to an end to get through the day.”
“I don’t want easy… I don’t want to just get through the day. Not anymore.” Astarion whispered across the small tent, staring intently at you.
You cocked your head slightly in question, “And what do you want?”
“I want this, I want us — to be real. You deserve something real.”
“So do you, Astarion. You deserve something real.”
Your name escaped his lips as a choked sob as overwhelming wave of emotion settled over him. “I don’t even know what real looks like. How do I give that to you if I—?”
“Do you trust me?”
The vampire nodded through his tears, “Yes.”
“I trust you,” You said softly.
“After everything I’ve done?” He croaked, waving his hands dramatically, “You’d trust a monster—“
You grabbed onto his extended fingers gently, squeezing them. “Yes, even then.”
He looked down at your hands touching, before intertwining his pale fingers with yours carefully. “Maybe you are a fool.”
You let out a breathless laugh, the sound waking up something in him he’d long thought dead. “Maybe, I am. But you fell for me, so what does that make you?”
Astarion’s mouth twitched up until it match your smile, “The luckiest vampire alive.”
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forkloverr · 1 day
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MORE OLDER LEON HEADCANNONS!!!
I thought I would take advantage of me and @thebiscuithater 's older Leon brain rot AND also answer this ask that had been sitting in my inbox (SORRY!!) anyways.... infinite darkness Leon supremacy <3 🤍 - No silliness (if you know what I mean) but Leon gets a little mischievous 🤍 - An older Leon was in mind while writing this, but to each their own :)
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stubble.
The moon is piercing through the windows, various lamps and small lights illuminate the space around you. Soft jazz is quietly playing in the background. It’s approximately 2 AM, and instead of being honked out and snoozing in your warm comfortable bed, you’re hunched over the stove, cooking a warm meal for your husband, Leon, to come back to. He had been called to an impromptu mission earlier that day, and you just knew he wouldn’t be coming home at a reasonable time. So, you sacrifice your precious sleep and prepare a home-cooked meal for him to enjoy as he rests his aching body. You softly rub your droopy sleepy eyes, picturing a sad Leon standing in front of the microwave heating up some instant ramen. That is NOT how your husband is going to look tonight, and you were sure of it. Who knows how much time had passed, it seemed like these noodles would never be done, and maybe, just maybe, you could rest your eyes a little…. It couldn't hurt, right?
As sleep seductively enchants you, a hot prickly sensation overtakes you as haunting lips plant on your neck. Large sturdy arms slither around your waist, and just before you could scream bloody murder, a familiar husky voice appears. “Well well, what is this? Isn’t it a bit late for a princess like you to be awake?” Leon whispers, kissing your cheek as those last words exit his mouth. Your body immediately relaxes, the threat of a (very hot) murderer killing you as you're making homemade ramen no longer exists. Through an obviously fatigued voice, you reply, removing your hand from the pot to rest upon his scarred hand. “I didn’t want you to come home lonely and hungry..” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, realizing how corny that sounded out loud. (Or maybe it was the steam from the noodles) Leon’s arms squeeze you gently, his head moving back to your neck. “Mmm… How sweet of you, now I feel guilty for not bringing you anything as a repayment.” Then and there you could tell what mischievous plan he was formulating in his beautiful brain. He knew your weakness, HE KNEW very well what it would do to you. And perhaps just wanting to see you squirm, he did just that. Once again pleasant goosebumps arise from your neck as Leon kisses your neck, purposely letting his stubble graze your sensitive skin. You can't tell if you want to scream or say other things that will not be mentioned. You start to giggle, his touch heating up your whole body. Just like he imagined, you squirm beneath his touch, softly grasping at his arms that were keeping you captive. Oh but he doesn't stop, in fact it almost encourages him to keep going. It feels like lava is pooling in your stomach, and butterflies are traveling up your throat, transforming into those sugary sweet giggles he craves to hear. His steamy breath ricochets off your neck, teasing you for more. “Have I messed with you enough dear? I don't think so… maybe just one mor-” The sound of bubbles boiling over the stove interrupts his snarky torture, and immediately reminds you that you were supposed to be watching the noodles. “Oh..” You squeak. Leon finally releases you, spinning you around to look at him while also turning the heat down on the stove. Placing one calloused hand along your jaw, he kisses your lips softly. “Thank you for this love, but after we eat, don't think I’m done with you..” He winks.
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kamig4mes · 2 days
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heyy, could you please write headcanons for how shigaraki would react/feel with a gn s/o who gives him small things that remind them of him? like, they see a red rock and give it to him bc its the color of his eyes, that kind of stuff
hey hey honey, of course! It's the first request from mha that I make here, although I must admit that I didn't expect it to be from shigaraki! ksdjdjsj 🤭 anywaay, I came up w/ a couple of things for this boy, I hope you enjoy it
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#pov: Shigaraki would react/feel with a gn s/o who gives him small things that remind them of him.
★ warnings: realistic hc, fluff, established relationship, affection, couple love, league of villains
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—shigaraki!
Realistically, you don't even know how you managed to get this guy to end up being your boyfriend. I mean, your mental dictionary is so broad and far-fetched but the words "love" "consideration" "passion" seem not to be included in it but here they are both! Celebrating even the smallest things you do for him.
Sometimes the gifts with the most emotional meaning are found when you least expect it.
They were walking hand in hand through some deep neighborhood of the city with a path to the forest when something suddenly made you brake sharply and scream.
"Oh my- STOP!!"
"WHAT?!"
Shigaraki flinched when he heard you, alerting all his senses. You got rid of his grip to step back on the way to take something in your hands.
When you came back to his side he looked at you surprised, almost angry.
"Here, take it honey" your arms outstretched towards him with that smile adorning your face, he was looking at you like you were crazy "it's for you"
"If it's a fcking spider I swear to yo-"
"Who do you take me for? C'mon, just hold out your hands" he reluctantly does as you ask, rolling his eyes when you smiled in victory.
At first Shigaraki stiffened when he felt the light weight on his bare palms, moments later he relaxes when he sees that it was a small stone. But not a current.
"A red stone?"
"Yea', a little weird, isn't it? But.. It reminds me of the color of your eyes.." you confessed, feeling your cheeks (and his) burn red hot.
Shigaraki froze instead. The poor man didn't expect to hear you say that, and he never expects it! He's not at all familiar with this type of treatment and sensations that you generate for him, and despite having been dating for a couple of months, this type of affection is still unexpected for him.
Deep down, his heart warmed up like a torch, sending his brain the signal to shout out all the tenderness that you generated in him with that simple gesture. But he couldn't, he felt blocked and too shy to answer correctly.
Since your boyfriend was silent for what seemed like a whole minute, you rushed to bring his attention back.
"We must get back soon before dark, don't you think? We don't want to get lost" you laughed, awkward kissing his cheek quickly. You didn't need him to respond to your acts of love, you understood his heart perfectly. But, sometimes, you wished he would express his emotions more with you.
"And I'm so sorry for yelling earlier"
"Uh-mh, it's okay.." Shigaraki sighed, before linking his hands again and kissing the top of your head "let's go back home"
You learned to identify your eccentric boyfriend's tastes and understand his peculiar manias, but you suspected that you still had a lot to discover about his twisted inner world.
It was just another day of the year when, while cleaning inside the drawers of Shigaraki's bedside table, you came across a somewhat small and neglected notebook with his name engraved on the lid.
You decided to take a look at it, surprising yourself with the amount of sketches that were embodied inside. And you couldn't help but melt with tenderness when you saw that a large part of the drawings that filled that notebook were you portrayed. You rushed to leave it where you found it and get on with the cleaning. It seemed strange to you that that book was out of place but thanks to that cluelessness, you discovered that Shigaraki liked to draw.
From that moment on, every instrument/drawing material you saw reminded you of him. And without realizing it, you ended up buying an impeccable set of graphite pencils for him.
When Shigaraki returned home in the afternoon, a box with a note greeted him in the living room. He looked everywhere in your search, in vain. The white-hair then approached the table to inspect the gift.
"This reminds me of you, and I think it may serve you. All yours"
As he guessed, the calligraphy was yours. Upon unveiling its contents, the thousands of drawings inside his notebook whipped his mind, clearly remembering every moment he made them, especially those where you were: sitting in the living room, in bed asleep, with your back on the balcony, etc. Just thinking about it, his corners rose in a smile that, if you were looking at him, you would be disarmed of love.
"God.. So adorable..."
He may never ask you how you found out about his hobby, but that didn't interest him. Because the best piece of art he can have is you. It will always be you.
Luckily, you have in mind his love for sweet foods. It became essential for you to buy breakfast cereal, specifically the sweetest flavor that existed on the market because it seemed to be the only one that met the necessary sugar levels for him. It's the first thing you look for when you come back from shopping.
"Tomura, honey, I'm home!" you screamed once you entered his warm abode. Soon you heard how a few footsteps crawled down the stairs to receive you next to a kiss.
"You're back soon" Shigaraki took the bags from you and carried them to the kitchen, poring over their contents. When he didn't see it anywhere, he questioned you, "Did you buy it?"
"Of course, it was already running out"
Shigaraki examined your facial features to make sure you weren't lying.
"The one with the double honey-? "
"The one with the double honey and sprinkles, baby, here it is" and you waved the long-awaited colorful box.
Shigaraki blinked with a hidden surprise when you finished his sentence. He loved that you remembered the details about him, he loved feeling special and listened to. Especially if it was you.
The white-hair nodded before turning around to leave the kitchen and go back to his business, hiding from you that goofy smile that was starting to outline on his face.
Whenever you pass by a video game store, the impulse to buy a game from their range of tastes ends up taking over you in some way or another.
"What are you getting me now, puppy?" he mumbled a barely audible giggle as he took the rectangular gift and tore the wrapper "Is this another one of your jok- Oh.."
His eyes widened as he observed the package in his hands. That limited edition Mario Kart game that came out a couple of weeks ago had him so surprised.
"Damn, y/n.."
With his role as a villain, he had moved away from his gamer side quite a lot. But he made sure that no one touched his glorious shelf full of his best and favorite video games. And you were there to stock that dusty shelf, to remind him that that side of him isn't quite dead.
"Do you like it? Although it's not such an important thing"
"Isn't it such an important thing?!" Shigaraki raised his voice offended.
You shrugged your shoulder, feigning indifference even though his beautiful surprised little eyes had you internally screaming "I thought it was missing from your collection"
Shigaraki looked again the video game, his heart turning completely upside down, not believing that you could give him something so difficult to get in the first weeks of release, but you would do anything for him.
He subtracted the space between you, catching you by surprise when he pulled you by hugging you tightly.
"Thanks u, babe.."
As long as it comes from you no matter what you gave him, even if he doesn't show it to you verbally, he appreciates all your gestures.
You smile softly, stroking her hair "don't thank me, honey"
That's the way he was, shy, inexperienced, spontaneous and shy just like a little boy. But little by little that child was growing up, opening up to the affection that you offer him and experiencing the rules of love with you by his side because thanks to you the words "love" "consideration" "passion" were added to his mental dictionary with a clear and real definition, thus finding ways to show you all that love that he also has to give you.
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©2024 / ENJOY ♡ — I was as realistic as possible, I like hc's to be like that. If you liked it, don't forget to repost it so that it reaches more little people. Thank y, I love them!
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maryrouille · 7 hours
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Toxic romanticization of studying
In a word of introduction, my profile partly shows that studying and exploring is wonderful. But as a person involved in science*, I would like to show healthy and true patterns of this beautiful adventure in acquiring knowledge.
The inspiration for writing this post this time was not the phenomenon from Tumblr (although you can also observe it here), but from Pinterest. There you can come across cycles composed of quotes and photos whose aim is to motivate young girls to learn, succeed and get good grades. These images often also show examples of characters from movies, TV series or real life that you can aspire to be like. Overall, I have to agree that it really works! But I would like to draw attention to certain elements that need to be verified.
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1. You shouldn't get up at 5am
First of all, the correct amount of sleep is one of the most important factors affecting the proper and effective functioning of our brain. During sleep, nerve cells regenerate, organize information acquired during the day and consolidate memory traces, which is directly related to learning. Lack of sleep increases impulsivity, deepens negative thinking and slows down the body's reaction time!
2. You can be a genius without good grades
Of course, good grades are a pleasant confirmation of our knowledge and praise for hard work. However, sometimes it is worth considering whether the structure of exams themselves, especially those with closed questions, affects the results. We often study for one specific exam, the knowledge of which may be very… limited and sometimes not useful, so it is worth prioritizing the topics that we study hard.
3. It's not cool to think you're better than others
We are different and have different priorities in life. It is also worth considering how many people escape from the rat race and start a slow, stress-free life. So we have to agree that judging people based on grades or responses under stress (sic!) is not cool.
The good thing about romanticizing studying
As I have already said, these types of collages are really motivating. So let's talk about what's great about them and what's worth highlighting and saving for later.
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1. Knowledge is beautiful, but your outfit and surroundings can also be
We know that we should never judge a book by its cover, but… the issue of social perception painfully confirms that we do and will continue to do so because this is how our brains work. And isn't it nice when someone looks at us and thinks this girl is so classy?
Moreover, a nice outfit that makes us feel good gives us a lot of self-confidence. There are also many studies confirming the positive impact on motivation and concentration of a neat and aesthetic workplace.
2. Not just cramming, but also discovering
Broadening your horizons is easier with passion and real commitment. And to achieve this, the topics must really interest us. Not everyone has yet found something that they are extremely passionate about in science, so that is why you have to dig deeper and discover different areas.
3. Don't be afraid to use your knowledge in practice
Schools and universities, unfortunately, have their own rules and they do not always allow you to show your 100% potential. Thus, share your knowledge with others externally, write essays, blog and social media. This form of activity also makes you learn things faster and easier. In addition, contacts with others will expand your knowledge.
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Therefore, I must say that it is worth choosing your inspirations carefully. Nothing helps you enjoy studying better than a clear head and lack of prejudices.
*This post was inspired by my own experience with studying. If anyone is interested, I think I can share my mistakes that did not help me in an academic adventure :)
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hellcat8908 · 2 days
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Hi there! It's been a while since I requested because I have been busy with exams and i am completely burnt out and emotionally drained. So i was hoping you could write something for me.
This is how my parents met and i was thinking you could write it based on any bat boy or all 3 if u like. So reader walks in with reports or their a party. And someone removes her hair pin and her hair fall and it's all long beautiful and silky. And literally the whole party stops.
Thank you and have an amazing day! ❤
Hopefully now you get a chance to recharge your emotional battery and destress. Thank you for your request, it was fun to write something outside of my recent angsty mood. I hope you enjoy it.
Let Your Hair Down Poly Batboys x Female Reader
You began working for Rhysand as a secretary of sorts. He was always polite but never gave you a second glance, same with Cassian and Azriel when you did work for them. "You're coming to starfall this year, right?" Mor interrupts your thoughts. "You know I don't do crowds and parties." You tell her. "Come on, you can spend the evening with me. I'll save you from socializing." She teases.
"I don't have anything to wear, and it's tomorrow night." You say as a last ditch effort excuse. "I'll take care of that." She states cheerfully. "Alright, just this once." You relent. "If you'll excuse me, Rhys is expecting these." You say, indicating to the files on your desk. "I'll see you tomorrow night. I'll pick you up after work." She says before carrying on her way.
You gather the files on your desk before making your way towards Rhys's office. You knock on his door before he tells you to enter. He's entertaining a gorgeous woman who you've not seen before. "I'll see you tomorrow night." She tells him before taking her leave. "I have the reports you wanted." You tell him as you hand them over. "Thank you." He says without a second thought. "If you don't need anything else, I'll head home." You tell him. "That's fine. I'll see you tomorrow." He says as Azriel and Cassian walk in. "Have a good night." They tell you before turning their attention to Rhys.
On your way home, you deal with the anxiety that tomorrow night is already giving you. You keep trying to think of the positive things about tomorrow night, but you can only focus on the three unattainable Illyrian's you work with. You cook yourself dinner before relaxing with your book for the night.
The next day makes you anxious and on edge as your brain overthinks everything. You manage to retrieve the three suits for the guys and leave them in their offices. "Mor said you were coming tonight." Cassian says as you hang his suit on the back of his door. "Yeah, she talked me into it." You say nervously. "It's a lot of fun. Hopefully I'll see you there." He says, giving you a soft smile. You know he is just being nice, but you can't help the warmth that spreads throughout you.
You make it through the rest of the day, and before you know it, Mor is taking you to the house of wind. "Come on, you can get ready in my room." She says excitedly. "You're going to look so good." She says as she pulls a garmet bag from her closet for you. She unzips the bag and pulls out a stunning silver beaded dress. "Mor! It's gorgeous, but don't you think it's a little overkill for me?" You ask. "You'll be stunning in it. Just try it on." She says encouragingly.
After you change, you admire yourself in the mirror. You always thought yourself kind of plain, but in this, you looked exquisite. "Now for hair and makeup!" Mor says as she pulls you to the vanity. She expertly curls and pins your lush long hair to perfection, like your mother used to when you were little. With one final look in the mirror, she walks with you to join the party. True to her word, she stays with you, saving you from being the awkward girl in the corner.
You scan the crowd and find Rhys with his date talking to Cassian and Azriel. The three of them look amazing in their suits. Your eyes linger longer than they should before Mor pulls you back to reality, "Are you alright?" She asks with a knowing smile. "Yeah, I could just use a drink." You answer. Before making your way towards the bar. You order a drink and drink it quicker than you should. After returning the empty glass, you join Mor again.
"Come on, let's dance." She says as she drags you to the dance floor. Your drink gives you enough courage to go for it. The two of you start dancing and having fun. You can't help but smile as you let loose for once. As you're dancing with Mor, you don't notice the shadow that's found its way to you. It playfully works its way up your body to the pin holding your hair up. Suddenlyba gentle tug jas your curls cascading down. Even curled your hair is longer than most.
Sudden, it seems like all eyes are on you, including the ones you've been wishing, which would notice you. It's all so overwhelming in the moment as they admire your long, lush hair that perfectly frames your beautiful face. "I'll be back, I need the powder room." You tell more as you make your escape. The party seems to resume in your absence as you quickly make your way inside to regain your composure.
Meanwhile, Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys all stand momentarily stunned as a golden cord snaps between them and you. Rhys's date tries to regain his attention, but he dismisses her without hesitation. He tells her it's best if she finds someone else to spend starfall with. Once she is gone, they each blurt out that you're their mate. "What do you mean yours? She's mine." They argue amongst themselves for a few minutes. "Let's let her settle this." Rhys says as he starts towards the house, his brothers following behind.
You finish regaining your composure and sit in one of the chairs in the living room for a few minutes. Soon, the guys are walking in, causing you to stand up quickly, "sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I just needed a moment." You apologize, afraid you overstepped a boundary. "Not at all. Please make yourself comfortable." Rhys says. "I wanted to apologize for my shadows behavior, sometimes they have a mind of their own and forget their manners." Azriel says. "No harm done. I didn't even notice it at first." You respond with a soft smile.
"I'm sorry to have pulled you away from your date." You tell Rhys. "I'm not." He says with a feline grin, catching you off guard a bit. "I think I should rejoin Mor, if you'll excuse me." You say as you start to walk towards the door. "Y/n, wait. Please." Cassian says as he gently grabs your hand to stop you. "There's something we'd like to talk to you about." He continues. You look between them, "ok." You say cautiously before taking a seat. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad, we promise." Azriel says.
"There's no point in trying to toe around it, so I'm just going to say it. Outside something happened that will change everything if you accept it. The mating bond snapped for me." Rhys says, deciding to lay it all out for you. "And me." Azriel says. "And me as well." Cassian adds. "This isn't funny! What kind of a joke are you playing at?!" You say angrily before you feel the pull and snap of the bonds. Each string leading to one of them. Your body stills, and your eyes go wide. "It's no joke, darling." Rhys says knowing what just happened for you.
"All three of you? But how?" You ask, shocked. "Yes, all three of us." Azriel says softly. "I won't choose between you. I won't be the one to ruin your brotherhood." You say adamantly. "We're not asking you to choose. We don't want to deny each other their true mate. We are willing to share." Rhys says. "How would that work?" You ask. "However, we're comfortable. We've shared in the past, and it's been an enjoyable experience." Cassian answers. "There's no right or wrong. We just have to figure out what's best for all of us." Azriel says.
"We barely know each other." You say. "Spend the rest of the evening with us. We can get to know each other." Cassian says. "What about Mor and Rhys's date?" You question. "I already took care of my date situation. As for Mor, you can tell her the truth, or you can feign not feeling well." Rhys answers. "I can't lie to her." You say surprised he would suggest it. "Alright, so we tell her the truth." Azriel says. "Or we just wait for her to come looking for you." Cassian says with a teasing smile.
"I don't want you to miss the party, though." You say, knowing it's their tradition. "You're more beautiful than any starfall." Azriel says as one of  his shadows lets down your hair again. "You can't help but laugh at its antics while you feel the warmth from the bond fill you. "You should wear your hair down more." Rhys says as he admires you. "Come on, beautiful." Cassian says as he stands and offers you his hand. "Where are we going?" You ask. "A private balcony where you can still see starfall as we get to know each other." Azriel says as he and Rhys follow you and Cassian out.
Once you're on the balcony, you can't help but admire the view as the sounds of the party are distant. "This view is stunning." You say as you overlook Velaris. "Not as stunning as you." Cassian compliments. Rhys hands you a glass of wine as they join you. "What do you think everyone will say when they find out about us?" You ask. "It doesn't matter as long as we're happy." Azriel says. "I still don't know how this will work." You say. "We'll figure it out along the way. Just do what feels natural." Rhys says as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
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whorediaries-09 · 1 day
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can i use you up?
pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s) - angst. a/n- a different take on my style of writing.
little train series masterlist.
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sirius wanted nothing more but to punch the wall beside him. his feet were atrociously restless and he felt something within him that he'd never felt before. he was sure his knuckles would turn white with the grip he had on the newspaper.
in a span of a few years, he'd escaped the treacherous hold of his nightmares, been accepted into a place he could happily-safely call home. he'd escaped the prison- the hell hole that bound him down, depriving him of the ever sweet freedom. he had found people he could keep close and call home.
little did he know his home was really only just the town where he'd be arrested.
he didn't know he'd be barricaded to his ghosts, tied together with his pasts and prison. he didn't know he'd been bound by shrieking dementors that'd reminded him of his memories he'd so carefully concealed within the corners of his mind.
and with each passing day, when his trial is put off, he feels his hope blur and the fire of rebellion seeded within the crevices of his heart die.
he feels his last bit of sanity fade.
*-
sirius doesn't get any visitors. he never expected any the moment he'd been thrown away into the cell. so when the dementors rattle down on the cell, he grumbles, turning and tossing onto the stone floor.
'sirius!' moody's loud voice bellows. sirius recognizes it, he's learnt to memorize it and hate it so very well.
'what is it alastor!' he screams back. he fills the rage fill him up again. he likes it when he's left alone - when he's not treated like an animal in a zoo. he feels revolting, it scars him into the very depth of his skin.
'the ministry has decided to look into your case once again.' alastor says. his fake eye moves erratically. sirius has learnt to not let the joy affect him. the dementors don't scare him, no. the memories do. so with lifeless eyes, a true contradiction to the gaze of sirius black, he stares at him.
'i thought the ministry was far too fed with injustice? did their big fat brains come back to senses again? or is today april fool's alastor?' he spits.
'black, mind it. i might change my mind.' he piercingly glares at him. he chooses to stay silent and not give him a reaction upon his statement.
'who's taking on my case?' he asks, silently. he's quietened down. he doesn't want the emotions to overrule his logics.
'i am.' a new voice replies. sirius stares for the source of the voice, suddenly interested.
you appear from the shrouded darkness. staring ahead into his piercing gaze, you stand determined on the floor. as formality you offer him your name. he shakes his head, gazing at your form up and down. you shiver under his cold gaze.
'what interests you in my case, young lady?' he asks. to establish your seriousness, you stare right through his cold gaze.
'the injustice.' you whisper. he stares at you before his face breaks into a mocking smile which turns into a harsh, cruel laughter. his head heats up with rage he's never felt before.
'injustice?' he spits. 'i've to believe suddenly all you have gotten your senses back and you should hold a trial for someone who was arrested without proper evidence?' he waits for you to say something. he notices a shift in your body language as you relax your shoulders and shift your eyes on the ground before staring into his again.
'i don't care if you believe me or not. what i can promise you is that i'll give you your freedom.' you say, so serenely. for a moment, he feels a pang of jealousy at your calm state. but it quickly dissipates when the rage controls him over again.
'is that so? what lovely words! why should i believe that you don't think i'm the killer? what confirmation do i get, young lady?'
'that's a fair point you've got there mr. black. but i believe you because...well there's no way you could've been the cold blooded killer. i can only promise you and give you the surety of my words. if you insist, i can make the unbreakable vow with you.'
'you can't do that,' grunted moody, 'it'll trigger the dementors.'
'fine. if he wants, i can make the vow on the day of the trial.' alastor grunts.
'no.'
'yes,' you emphasize. 'do you want me to make the vow? will you believe me then?' sirius stares at you. he tries to decipher through the curtain of your blank stare.
'yes.' he says, his voice quiet and seemingly calm. within him, however, he breaks. he hears the hurricane with his name on it, coming nearer and nearer. the blood rushes to his ears, and he buries the heat within himself.
so, he does his best to lay to rest all of the feelings that have been in his heart. but in his mind, they sink into a swamp.
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original idea posted by - @lilwnet
taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510
(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)
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moodymelanist · 1 day
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Want to write the reverse of your wlw nessian drabble where cas doesn’t realize she’s gay yet but nesta thinks cas stares at her boobs a little too much to be straight
hell yeah I do. hope y’all enjoy this one and happy @nestaarcheronweek day 4 🩷 got the title from tangerine by kehlani hehe
Read on AO3 here!
“Are you going to keep staring down my shirt, or can we get this presentation done?”
Cass startled so badly at Nesta’s words that she nearly knocked over her water, only barely managing to catch the reusable bottle at the last second. “What?”
Cass and Nesta had been paired up as partners for their advanced writing requirement course, and they’d been making steady progress on their presentation in one of the library’s group study rooms. Cass was an education major to Nesta’s political science, and Cass had never been so excited for a group project in her life.
At least, until Nesta had shown up to the library wearing that shirt. It was just a simple, blue, wrap-tie shirt, but between the way it made Nesta’s eyes look even bluer than usual and the way it perfectly cupped her breasts, Cass was having a difficult time staying focused on the task at hand.
“Sorry,” Cass said, hoping her face wasn’t as red as it felt from being called out. She’d thought she was being more discreet, but Nesta had clearly proved that theory wrong. “I was just, uh, zoned out.”
“Were you zoned out the other three times, too?” Nesta fired back without missing a beat.
“I…” Cass trailed off, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound insane. “I just think your shirt is really… cute.”
Nesta Archeron was easily one of the most gorgeous women that Cass had ever seen. With her gray-blue eyes, bronze hair, and amazing fashion sense, Cass spent most of her time wanting to be just like Nesta. Granted, Cass was way too much of a tomboy to pull off even a quarter of Nesta’s wardrobe, but a woman could dream, right? And who better to dream about that Nesta Archeron, especially when she had on a shirt like that?
“Right,” Nesta replied with the most deadpan voice Cass had ever heard. She sighed heavily before shutting her laptop altogether, fixing Cass with a slightly incredulous look. “Are you ever going to get your shit together and ask me out?”
“What?” Cass blurted out, all the blood in her body rushing to her cheeks. God, she hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I don’t—”
Nesta rolled her eyes. “Cass, I can do this assignment in my sleep. I just wanted to make sure my gaydar was working.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cass answered. Okay, maybe sometimes she found herself staring way longer than she should’ve when it came to pretty women, but that was just… what everyone did. That didn’t mean she was anything more than a strong ally, no matter how many times she cringed when a man came near her.
“Don’t you?” Nesta asked, cocking an eyebrow. She leaned forward, a victorious little smirk gracing her lips as Cass’ eyes immediately tracked the motion. “Well that’s a yes.”
“It’s not my fault you have a great rack,” Cass blurted out, her brain to mouth filter evaporating altogether.
Nesta snorted. “I’m not making you look at it.”
“If I wasn’t looking, I’d have to be dead,” Cass muttered.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Nesta retorted with a roll of her eyes.
Before Cass could think of a proper reply — Nesta thought she was pretty? — Nesta reached out and grabbed a hold of Cass’ chair, pulling her own so close that there was no room to escape. Not that Cass was feeling particularly inclined to do that, anyway. It was dizzying having Nesta so close; she was pinned under that icy gaze and couldn’t back away even if she wanted to.
Cass didn’t want to.
“I’m going to finish this assignment when I get home,” Nesta said, her voice low and offering no argument. “Give you some time to think about… things.”
“Think about what?” Cass said back. She was hardly breathing as Nesta leaned in even closer, placing her hand on the chair in between Cass’ thighs for balance.
Nesta was close enough now that it would’ve been easy for Cass to lean in and kiss her, and find out if her lips were as soft as they looked. Cass’ lips parted in anticipation, every thought in her mind besides Nesta emptying out like they’d never been there at all, and she was torn between leaning forward to kiss her or letting Nesta continue to order Cass around like she owned her.
What the hell was wrong with her?
“That’s what I thought,” Nesta breathed after a few moments, her lips still dangerously close to Cass’ own. When Nesta laughed quietly at Cass’ reflexive frown, Cass could almost feel the vibrations on her lips, and God wasn’t that a thought. “You’re taking me to dinner tonight.”
“I— okay,” Cass agreed. God, she hoped she didn’t sound as dumbstruck as she felt; Nesta didn’t suffer fools, and Cass wasn’t trying to be one. “Whatever you want.”
Nesta finally leaned forward to press a kiss to Cass’ cheek, pulling back with a smirk. “I think we’ll get along just fine. See you later.”
Cass watched Nesta grab her things and saunter out of the room, the only thought in her head I love when women…
Well. At least one woman, that was for damn sure.
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @fieldofdaisiies | @goddess-aelin | @c-e-d-dreamer | @talkfantasytome | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @sv0430 | @talibunny30 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @champanheandluxxury | @lilah-asteria | @burningsnowleopard | @sayosdreams | @readskk | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @bellaful08 | @readergalaxy | @podemechamardek | @pearlfortears | @nerdperson524 | @jmoonjones | @kale-theteaqueen | @autumnbabylon | @hiimheresworld | @illyrianshadowhunter | @dustjacketmusings | @live-the-fangirl-life | @that-little-red-head | @sweet-pea1 | @brieq | @queercontrarian | @jsmelodies | @afflicted-with-wanderlust
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mihai-florescu · 2 days
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Putting a message i sent earlier under a read more, it has some thoughts ive expressed before tho. ES, of course
My thoughts as an EichiP... i view ! and !! as different stories in the way they're approached tbh, what i fell in love with enstars for was the character driven storytelling of one event seen through different perspectives, where you see the antagonist in one perspective become a protagonist in another story and can empathize with the entire cast like this. I fell in love with eichi's story of second chances, getting what you want and regretting your actions in the process, redemption, desperation, overcoming fate and asserting one's self into the story, saving a school in a dying industry that saved your life by giving you a dream; i consider it an arc fulfilling to the reader at the end of ! era. But we still had to continue... and it's not like we didnt get inklings of eichi's dreams of idol utopia, the idol soldier idea goes back to main story 1, but !! loses the charm of the original series through expanding the worldbuilding so much and shifting to a plot driven story that opens 10 cans of worms instead of offering resolutions. There's not really room to breathe if the stakes just keep getting higher and higher...
As for the colonisation plotline, it's been here since the beginning of ES2. The SS arc makes it obvious, but i remember even before, the talks about ES taking over from local businesses, trying to be seen as the standard, it was always the direction ensemble square as an institution would take. But the "antagonist in one story, protagonist in another" approach doesnt work anymore with such subjects. The guys responsible for this are your coworkers you share dorms with. I read the stories but cant empathize anymore, so i've been feeling disconnected from eichi for a while. I see enstars with eichi at its core but i didnt care for his center event, i read it, didnt like the ending, and overall felt off. Eichi becoming the villain of ! to attone for the war kind of loses significance if a year later he is a cartoon villain idol colonialist you can't even sympathize with anymore because of the magnitude of events. However i do think !! has done good things for some characters pushing them further or developing them in a way ! didnt. But for others...
I also have my issues with sci fi elements becoming the norm, even taken metaphorically or as hyperboles, when one of the central themes i love about enstars is humanity. Then again, i am a war era fan that relied on manipulating human desires and perceptions, and the fact that there were no monsters or gods, just humans framed as such, playing on people's fears and beliefs, it's a bit jarring to me to have them introduce AIs forming from escaped comatose brains (im minimizing the switch climax rn, i didnt even hate it as a whole, just this resolution im unhappy with)
It also feels like we've lost some of the meta aspects of the writing i liked, a certain awareness of being characters in a story and there being an audience. But im still struggling to word my thoughts on this matter. I felt it present in main story 2, even if it annoyed me at parts in its obviousness ("good thing we're not protagonists, no one would want to read about us" youre right aira you are not interesting to me. And yet i'll read your story to try and empathize nevertheless. I have other thoughts on aira too, perhaps for another time). I wish we explored a bit more what it means to no longer be the central protagonist, from trickstar's perspective...and brought back the successors topic. But i havent read every ts story yet so i'd be foolish to complain before really making sure i've checked everything. To me ! ended satisfyingly with room left for elaborations and imagination, but i dont feel like !!'s ending is really ending anything at all. Not necessarily bad since it's not like the game is shutting down, but overwhelming worldbuilding wise while underwhelming character wise...
Let's see... im not sure how to end this. Just a bit of a stream of consciousness as a ! fan who still loves enstars despite my critiques. Mainly, well, no one's gonna take away the stories that already exist that i do love and impacted my life greatly. And i do think !! had some really good things too it brought, or at least stories i hold dear too. Change is scary and i don't think it's always for the best, but it's also fun to see where it goes next...
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stevie-petey · 2 days
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ive been feeling a little stug deprived but i cannot for the life of me think of a blurb idea so,, hit me with a blurb you've been wishing to write about stug :3
anon u also stumped me like i KNOW i have blurbs ive been dying to be asked about but suddenly my mind is blank ,,,, pls take this silly thing my brain managed to concoct
enjoy !
"one more loop around the block before i take you home?" steves voice rasps out, husky from lack of use. neither of you have spoke much as he drives the two of you around hawkins. its been at least an hour now; music plays softly throughout the car and the windows are rolled down to let in the early june nights cool breeze.
you lean your head against the passenger seat and listen to freddie mercurys smooth voice as he plays over the speakers. hes become one of your favorite artists thanks to steve. "i dont want to go home just yet."
steve grins, he knew youd say this, and you smile at the knowledge that he knows you so well.
his fingers are wrapped lazily around the steering wheel as he takes a slow turn back towards downtown hawkins. you watch his movements, illuminated by the lamp posts that spill light onto the otherwise dark wooded street. its late, the first monday of june and the last day of your junior year.
it had been steves last day of high school, and all he had wanted to do was spend it with you in his car, driving in circles around your small town.
you close your eyes and allow the moment to seep into your bones. youre in steve harringtons car, there are crickets outside as he drives you around the town the two of you met and grew up in, and youre in the car with the boy that you love and you know that he loves you, too.
"you still with me, angel?"
you hum. "im still here, honey."
"your eyes are closed."
"im enjoying the moment," your eyes remain closed and yet you can feel the smile that steve flashes your way. you can hear it in his voice, you can feel the shift in the air.
the car slows down at one of hawkins only stop lights. steve looks over at you and feels a heavy wave of affection roll over him. youre curled into yourself in the passenger seat, your hair spills over the headrest as you close your eyes, and its rare that he gets to see you so relaxed. "i can take you home if youre tired."
"but i love driving around with you," you mumble, feeling sleep beginning to crawl over you. but steves car is warm and smells like home. "one more loop, please?"
again steve feels affection caress his face when he hears your words. youve only curled further into yourself and your eyes are still closed; steve knows you really are struggling to stay away now. its late, he knows he should get you home soon so you can sleep, yet steve cant bring himself to deny your request.
"one more loop, but then im taking you to bed."
you giggle, happy youve won, but you try to argue some more anyways. no one else has ever been able to match your wit, so you revel in the quips you share with steve. "fine, its the first day of summer. dont be such a grandpa."
steve laughs, his voice is still husky and you can feel it drape over your tired body. "angel, weve got all summer to drive around this stupid town."
weve got all summer.
"promise?"
more crickets chirp and the car begins to drive once more, the stoplight now green. freddie mercury sings about the love of his life and how he doesnt want her to hurt him. your question of a promise joins alongside his pleads, and steve understands.
"i promise." he reaches for your hand and you feel his soft lips press against your palm. hes slow with the kiss, as if hes sealing his promise with it, and your body fizzes at the touch. "now lets get you home."
you bring the hand that hes holding to your face and nuzzle against it, too tired to respond with words. you simply nod your head and keep his hand there as a content sigh escapes you. steve has to bite his lip, scared he'll say the three words that terrify him.
youre everything.
youre his everything.
but steve has all summer to tell you this.
so instead he drives you home, taking the long way just so his hand can rest against the dip of your cheek for an extra few minutes.
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I've made. S o m a n y. Attempts at analyzing Vox's relationship with the fuckin Angel & Val bullshit. So many. But they always come out sounding like fucking word salad. So instead, I'm going to try making a bulleted list of all the different pieces of evidence I've gathered, and then simply not draw a conclusion because I don't fUCKING KNOW-
Vox does not like Angel
Vox seemed excited at the prospect of Angel quitting(despite knowing he physically can't?)
Like his eyes *literally* lit up he was so excited(the same way Velvette's did when she was yelling about wrist ruffles & Carmilla's did during Whatever It Takes)
Saying "Angel quit?" could've been him joking, but between his expression, tone of voice, and the context surrounding the line, I don't think that's the case?
That line is weird as fuck man...
There are two reasons Vox doesn't like Angel: Val constantly freaking the fuck out over minor Angel-related things & he's probably jelous of how much space Angel takes up in Val's brain
Vox does not seem to care for Angel's well being, probably viewing him as nothing more then a cash cow
I say "seem" and "probably" because it IS significantly more likely that Vox doesn't give a shit, but we haven't seen Angel & Vox interacting one on one yet, so there's still a chance I could be wrong and Vox does care in some capacity? Again significantly more likely he doesn't I'm just trying to cover all my bases here
Which speaking of- we don't know how Angel feels about Vox at all? Like aside from Vox's cameo in Poison(Angel's pseudo-dream sequence), we don't actually get Angel's perspective on Vox. Ever.
Like I'd assume Angel doesn't LIKE him just by virtue of his relationship with Val but there's no real way to tell?
Vox(seemingly) hasn't done anything to deal with Val's weird issues with Angel
He probably can't get rid of Angel entirely because of the loss in profits
But he also hasn't attempted to limit Angel's ability to leave the studio or anything, and he hasn't done anything to Val that might discourage his irrational behavior
He's actually pretty hands off when it comes to all of the other Vees' shit just like. In general. The only time we see him interfering is when Val is destroying Velvette's stuff
Vox doesn't seem to give a shit that Angel moved out of the studio
Like he isn't even happy about it just true neutrality-
He only STARTS caring when Val starts threatening to shoot up a building about it(read: when his image is now on the line)
The look Vox gives Angel in Poison just kind of proves he. Doesn't like Angel. And is kissing(but appearently not dating???) Valentino.
The fact that the blood drips, which are usually on the left side of his mouth, are coming off of the right instead during this scene FEELS important but that's another topic entirely so I won't go into it here
Also, as stated before, Poison is a pseudo-dream sequence, so this scene might be less about how Vox views Angel and more about how Angel views Vox
But if that's the case, I cannot for the life of me decipher what the fuck Angel feels about Vox from this one shot so it's pretty much useless for now 💀💀💀
Alright that's it. I tried my best to be impartial and just write down what we know about the characters while also pointing out any gaps in information we might have, but if you think I'm being too generous or too harsh with any of these bullets and feel the need to tell me, PLEASE be nice about it and also use tone indicators. I don't wanna sound like a whiney baby or whatever the fuck but I genuinely cannot handle feeling like a stranger is yelling at me rn and tone indicators help me a LOT in that department.
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mimisempai · 2 days
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Not the same goodbye anymore
Summary
Aziraphale and Crowley have said goodbye many times in the past, but today, as he watches the Bentley drive away, the angel realises that now every goodbye will be different.
Notes
50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts
Kiss #46: A lingering kiss before a (long) trip apart.
On Ao3
Rating G -  902 words
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Crowley glanced at his watch and sighed. There was no point in putting it off, it was time for him to go.
He said quietly, "Angel..."
Aziraphale nodded and replied, "Say no more, it's time for you to go, isn't it?"
They stood up at the same time and walked side by side to the door of the bookshop.
The demon turned to the angel and, taking her face between his hands, said softly, "The longer I delay, the harder it will be. Don't be sad, it's only a few days, you won't even have time to miss me".
Aziraphale replied in a slightly wry tone, "I know, you're only leaving for three days and yet it feels like a trip around the world."
Crowley stroked the angel's cheek with his thumb and replied softly, "I know, Angel, believe me, I know. I feel like I'm going away for a long time too."
Aziraphale had done his best not to show the melancholy he had felt at the thought of the demon's absence. He had told himself that he should be happy that Crowley was so passionate about his work at the planetarium.
It was just for some days.
They'd been apart for much longer, with no certainty of seeing each other again, which was not the case now.
But despite all this good reasoning, now that Crowley was about to leave in a few seconds, the angel found it hard to put up a front.
He wanted to put his hand over his mouth to stop the words coming out, but Crowley still held his face in his hands and the Angel's mouth was running faster than his brain so he couldn't help but blurt out, "Will you miss me?"
The demon gave a small smile and replied in a low voice, "I miss you already, Angel.
Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the angel's in a tender kiss. 
When he tried to pull away a fraction of a second later, he could not because Aziraphale's hands had caught his face and were pressing against him to make the kiss last. The demon didn't struggle, of course, and the kiss lasted a few more seconds.
When they finally broke apart, Crowley ran his thumb over the Angel's lips and said sheepishly, "I really have to go now, Angel.
Aziraphale, his throat tightening, nodded and walked out with the demon to accompany him to the car. 
Once in front of the Bentley, Crowley planted a light kiss on the Angel's temple before getting behind the wheel. 
Aziraphale waved at him through the window and, seeing his sad little smile, the demon couldn't resist and rolled down the window.
Poking his head out, he said to the angel with a half-smile on his lips, "One last one for the road?”  
Smiling, Aziraphale leaned over and, after one last kiss on the demon's lips, said softly, "Have a good time, my love."
They looked at each other in silence for a few moments before the Bentley decided to take matters into its own hands and sped away.
Aziraphale, chuckling slightly, followed the car with his eyes until it disappeared around the corner.
"Hard to let him go, isn't it?"
The angel, who didn't really have the heart to deflect, replied softly to Nina, who had just arrived beside him, "You have no idea." 
Nina nudged him with her shoulder and replied, "Oh, I think I have a little idea, you know, when Maggie decides to go on one of her trips in search of rare records. I may know she'll be back, I may know it'll only be for a short time, this little place she's got here..." 
Nina tapped her chest before continuing, "remains empty, and the emptiness is felt until she's back. So, knowing your story, I can imagine... how it is for you."
Aziraphale nodded without answering, for Nina couldn't have described what he was feeling more accurately. 
But at the same time, today was different from all the times he'd watched Crowley leave, not knowing when or if he'd see him again, not being able to say how he felt, never knowing how the demon felt.
Everything was different.
Crowley loved him and he loved Crowley.
They both knew it.
He knew that Crowley would be back in three days.
He knew the demon would miss him, just as he had made no secret of the fact that he would miss the demon.
So, sure, that little void Nina was talking about was there, in his chest, but it was bearable because he knew Crowley would be back soon to fill it again.
So instead of focusing on that void, he decided to focus on the perspective of the demon's return.
He turned to Nina and asked with a smile on his face, "So, Nina, what sweet treats are you serving at the cafe today?"
Nina threw on that little smile she always had when she understood a situation, put her arm around Aziraphale and led him to the coffee shop, giving him a detailed list of the day's pastries.
Three days later, when she saw the Bentley parked outside the bookshop, she thought that it was unlikely that the bookseller would be coming in for a pastry today, as he probably didn't need any comfort food.
His beloved was back.
The emptiness would be filled again.
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
Ineffable kisses series : here
Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here
Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2
Part 1 Story 1-99
Part 2 Story 100-?
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BALLERINA - Chapter Fifteen (Epilogue)
A Jake Kiszka AU
Physiotherapist!Jake x Original Female Character
Previous Chapter.
Story Masterlist
A/N: Hi everyone! This is the final chapter of Iris and Jake’s story. Honestly, I never thought I'd be able to finish my very first chaptered fic, but here we are, finally. I'd like to thank everyone who enjoyed this little story. A big thank you goes to those who supported me and encouraged me throughout the writing of this fic. You know who you are😉
I really hope you like this!
Word count: 1.4K
Warnings for this chapter: angst, nerves, feelings.
_________________________________
Paris, a year later.
Those mirrors along the walls were reflecting her every move and she kept seeing mistakes that didn't even exist.
Iris had been dancing and practicing for almost ten hours now. Her muscles burned but she didn't really care. She wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.
It was getting dark outside, signaling to her that it was almost time to go home. The next day was going to be her day. The most important one in years.
She practiced a few more moves and then packed her bags and walked the short distance separating the ballet school from her flat.
Her little rented flat, right next to her sister's, was tiny, in true parisian fashion, but it was wonderful. From her small balcony she could even see the Sacré-Cœur; its pearlescent white stones were shining even brighter with the full moon.
She tried to calm her nerves by admiring the beautiful basilica from afar, but it was useless. She was so nervous she couldn't stop her hands from shaking and her heart from hammering in her throat.
The next day was going to be a big step for her. It was the day in which she was going to dance again in front of a crowd after a year and a half.
And she couldn't stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong.
After tossing and turning for a while, she managed to finally turn off her brain and rest.
~
The next day, she woke up early. After a quick breakfast, she checked if she had everything she needed in her bags and left for the Opéra Garnier.
It didn't matter how many times she saw that theatre. Every time her eyes landed on its golden statues and white columns it was like the first. Little tingles travelled down her spine every time.
She showed her badge to the security at the entrace and reached her dressing room backstage.
She placed her bags on the floor, changed into her ballet shoes and started rehearsing again, trying to stop overthinking and fighting the urge to run away from there and never come back. It took her a while to finally silence the insufferable voice in her head that kept telling her that she was going to miserably fail but, eventually, she managed to do so, drowning that insecurity under the music of her choreography.
Before she knew it, her time was up.
Looking at the clock on the wall, she realized that her turn was quickly approaching.
The buzzing of her phone startled her.
She wiped her sweaty trembling hands on her leggings and read the text she had just received.
It was from her sister. She was telling her that the theater was packed and wishing her good luck using the French word “merde” like a true Parisian.
She smiled but her heart was threatening to jump out of her chest at any moment.
She finished getting ready and, when there were only 20 minutes left before her turn, she exited her dressing room.
Her heartbeat was deafening in her ears as she walked towards the stage.
She felt like a robot.
She wasn't even paying enough attention to her surroundings the closer she got to the stage so, when a pair of cold hands wrapped around her waist and dragged her behind the heavy velvet curtains, she was positively scared.
She gasped and thrashed around to escape, but a whisper in her ear made her stop abruptly.
“Iris”
Jake.
He was there.
Tears started flowing freely down her cheeks and she immediately relaxed in his grasp.
She quickly turned around and kissed him passionately, feeling his comforting presence in every cell of her body.
He cradled her face in his hands and caressed her cheeks, tenderly wiping away her tears with his thumbs.
“You told me you couldn't make it" Iris whispered.
“I told you I wasn't sure of it. I managed to arrive last night” Jake whispered back, a little smirk of mischief on his beautiful face.
“And you didn't tell me?!” She exclaimed, incredulous.
“I didn't want to distract you with my presence. But, as soon as I got here, I kept thinking about the fact that you were so close to me and I really couldn't stop myself from needing to see you, to touch you, to kiss you.” he said truthfully, blushing slightly and lowering his gaze to the floor.
She grasped his face and kissed him like it was the first time and almost lost herself in the kiss.
“Thank you” she whispered on those plump lips that she had come to know so well.
The sharp call to the stage made them both flinch and jump.
They shared a last kiss and a look full of love, before parting with a whispered “I love you.”
The moment she reached the stage the nerves were still present but she felt a lot less upset than before.
She could still feel the warmth of his presence on her lips and fingertips and that helped her immensely.
The air was cool all around her but her heart, so full of love, burned like a pyre in the night, lighting up everything with its orange glow.
The applause of the crowd filled her with joy and energy and when, finally, the first few notes of the music echoed in the room, she felt her feet start to move on their own accord, following the lead of her ever-present passion for dancing.
Throughout the performance she only ever had eyes for him, letting his calming presence guide her mind into a state in which nothing could hurt her anymore.
She had forgiven him two weeks after she had left for Paris and had abandoned him on the curb in front of her house, on that stormy morning of June, with teary eyes and a broken heart.
She had finally come to terms with the fact that life without him was simply unbearable.
She had mulled over the whole predicament so much she had given herself so many headaches, but, eventually, she came to the conclusion that, in his shoes, she would have probably done the same to protect her sister.
She realized he hadn't even meant to fall for her. It had happened. And she was so glad she felt the same and was ready to share her life with him.
When she had called him the first time, he hadn't answered and it scared her to death.
He had called her back in the middle of the night saying that he was in surgery when she had first called and asking if she was alright. He sounded extremely worried.
They had switched to a video call almost immediately and they had cried, laughed and talked for four entire hours.
The next weekend they were finally together. They had dinner in a cute little restaurant near Montmartre and then they went straight to her flat because they couldn't keep their hands off each other any longer.
He had flown to Paris a few more times while she attended the internship there and, every time, they went to visit museums and galleries together. They were always connected in some way. Her hand on his bicep, his arm around her shoulders, their fingers brushing when they walked. It was as if one was afraid to lose the other at any given moment.
Deafening applause brought her out of her thoughts abruptly.
Everyone in the room was on their feet praising her for her beautiful piece.
But three smiles were the only ones that she had eyes for.
She couldn't stop her tears from spilling while looking at them.
Her sister was standing between a very proud Jake, who mouthed a little “I love you” and Josh, who winked at Iris when he saw she was watching him and sent her a little kiss.
Their eyes were shining and their smiles beaming with love for her.
And it was all that ever mattered.
_______________________________
Thank you for reading!❤️
Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka @twistedmelodies @ignite-my-fire @gvfmarge @writingcold @brujamagik @edgingthedarkness @gold-mines-melting @mindastreamofcolours @blacksoul-27 @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @mapelsyrup07 @klarxtr @takenbythemadness @peaceloveunitygvf @lyndz2names @jazzyfigz @its-interesting-van-kleep @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat
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poetryandfluffycats · 18 hours
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Quiz time!
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A/N: took a small break but im back and im writing bungo fics. hope you enjoy
Pairing: Kidnapper!Nikolai Gogol x fem!reader
Warnings: dark content, kidnapping, mentions of animal violence, mentions of human violence, implied abuse
Content: Nikolais been keeping you trapped in his basement for 3 weeks now. What does he have in store for you today? You have no idea
Words: 1.0k
Oneshot under cut!
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"Oh darling! I'm home!"
The infamous voice of Nikolai Gogol shot through the basement, followed by the sound of his leather shoes creaking against the stairs. My head snapped up from its place on the pillow, watching him with wide eyes as he descended to the bottom of the staircase. The jester had a smile on his face, seeming all too giddy about... something. What that something was, I had no idea.
He was quick to skip over to me, looming over my curled up form under the covers, a hand buried deep into the abyss of his coat. He pulled out a bouquet of pink roses, shoving them under my nose. "For you, my dove" he purred, his voice dripping like sickly sweet honey.
I took them, albeit hesitantly, and examined them with a cautious eye. They were pretty, a light, pastel pink color with a white ribbon tied around the stems, and smelt like heaven. A sweet-but not too strong-floral scent that reminded me of the spring time. It was a nice gift, no one could deny that, but knowing Nikolai...
There had to be some type of ulterior motive.
"Pretty..." I murmured, holding the flowers close to my chest. "Thank you..."
I hadn't spoken much since I got here, only ever really muttering a word or two to keep him satisfied. He talked enough for the both of us, anyway, or at least that's what he had said when my lack of words first was noticed by him.
"Only the best for my sweetest dove! Now, come come, what shall we do today? You're probably just dying to have some fun, right? Aha! I know!" Before I could fully understand anything he had said, Nikolai pulled the covers back and lifted me in his arms, carrying me bridal style as he twirled around the basement.
"Quiz time!"
Quiz time. His way of asking personal questions on the justification that it was 'just a game' and 'there's no need to be shy". Sometimes he'd throw in random questions about Ukrainian literature, to which I almost never got right. I think that maybe he thought that asking a few general questions among all the pervy, personal ones would make me more comfortable, or less likely to catch on to the real meaning behind his game. It didn't.
I hated Quiz time.
Nikolai plopped me down on the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of me. His teeth showed as his lips curled upwards into a toothy grin, head tilted to the side and eyes blown wide. Maybe that's just how he always looked.
"Question 1! What is your favorite color?"
It was such a simple question, childish even. Something a teacher would ask their preschoolers on the first day of school. Yet, it made my throat close up, heat beating faster and faster as the seconds ticked by. What was my favorite color? Did I even have one anymore? What was the point in having a favorite color if I was trapped down here?
"Uh..." I stuttered, eyes flickering around the room. Anywhere was better than Nikolais cold, mismatched eyes. "Purple... b-but I also like red"
Nikolai clapped his hands together, a high pitched squeal leaving his lips. "Wonderful! Gosh you are just too cute, I might simply combust! But then you'd be stuck cleaning my brains off the wall which I don't think you'd like very much, so I'll refrain for you, my darling"
Cleaning brains off the walls? He said it so casually, like it was a normal passtime for him. Was it? Probably.
"Question 2! What is your favorite animal?"
This one was easy enough, and a small smile creeped onto my face as I answered. "Kittys, I have a few at home. They're the best little guys"
My heart ached at the thought of my fur babies. How long had they gone without food or water? Without being pat or doted on? Did they miss me? Had someone taken them in or were they sitting at the window waiting for my return?
Would I return?
Nikolai squealed again, his smile growing impossibly wider, the tips of his lips nearly touching his ears. "Cats are adorable! So fluffy and cute and squishy! I would just love to squeeze them until their little heads popped off!"
He suddenly scooted closer to me, the space between us slowly decreasing until our knees knocked together. He brought his fingers up to my cheeks, pinching them as if I was a baby. "Just like you! Squish, squish, squish! So damn cute"
Our noses bumped together as he leaned in closer, those cold eyes hyper-focused on my lips. I felt like I might hurl as his hands trailed down from my cheeks to my waist, his fingernails digging into the flimsy fabric of the nightgown he forced me into my first day here. This was wrong. So, so wrong.
"Please" I whined, tears threatening to spill at any second. "Please don't"
I had been so lucky the past 3 weeks with him not touching me, not with sexual intent anyway. No kissing, no touching, no... sex. Nothing. He would ask his stupid questions, force me to play his stupid games, and lay with me in bed at night, but that was it. But now, it seemed my luck had finally run out.
"Question 3!" Nikolais voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down my spine. "Now, dove, this is the last question, so make sure you pay extra attention, mkay?"
Not like I had a choice.
"Who do you love the most in this whole wide world?"
There was only answer to that question. Only one answer he wanted, anyway. I had learned the hard way what the consequences of getting it 'wrong' were. It was so degrading, humiliating, dehumanising even, the punishment he had given me for answering with the wrong person. I wasn't keen to go through that again.
"You, Nikolai. I love you the most" I sounded robotic, like a puppet. Which in reality, I kind of was. Just a little puppet in his clown show.
"Correct! 3 for 3, you're so smart! Now, for the reward"
And then, his chapped, cracked, messily painted lips were on mine. It wasn't recpirocated, it wasn't even pleasant. It was gross, slimy, wet like a fish. Maybe I could pretend I was making out with a fish. That would've been million times better than this bullshit.
I hated it.
I hated him.
I hated myself.
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spidergangforever · 7 months
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hey pspider people!! how do you feel about the stars that reside above your very heads? :3
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