#i genuinely detest my old work | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purplekiwis · 1 year ago

Text

𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆

Summary: While they're on opposite ends of the social spectrum, Y/N and Harry have been the closest of friends for years. But could it be that an all-night working session for a science project helps them break out of the friendzone?

Genre: Friends to Lovers | Nerd!Harry x Badgirl!Y/N

Warnings: SMUT | Self-Deprication | This is coming-of-age story. There's no mention of their age but both characters are in their last year of high school (just a heads up in case someone doesn't want to read because of that)

Wordcount: 10k

A/N: ok y'all, so i have made a mistake.

i was like 99% sure there was a request in my inbox asking for a blurb where harry was nerdy? i found it interesting so i started working on it... only to realize halfway into things that that was not in fact what was written in the request 😅

i figured i might as well post it anyways since i wrote it but yeah... i'm sorry, anon! i (now) know you wanted subby!harry, but all i have to give you is nerd!harry (don't worry, i made him a lil subby just for you 🤫)

also, before y'all flood my inbox with asks about the non finished fics (rightfully so) i hear you and i'm very, very sorry for the lack of updates. i had to take a break because i kept feeling like the texts i could come up with weren't good enough for the stories i wanted to tell. i still partly feel that way, but i'm hoping the lack of real harry content will inspire me to write more in the near future. thank you for reading my dumb little stories, i love you 💖

****************************************************************

Harry was never too fond of grocery shopping.

He really didn’t like the whole “put things inside the cart, remove things from the cart at the cashier, bag them, put them back into the cart, get them in the car, take them out of the car, bring them inside and put them away” process.

It was extremely inconvenient to him.

It was also very time-consuming, though Harry believed this particular belief of his was directly influenced by having to grocery shop with his grandparents every other day.

Naturally, they were slower than he was, so he'd just drag his feet behind them, push the cart and wait for them to ask him to grab something from the shelves that their aging pains no longer allowed them to reach.

That part was fine, what bore him the most was how easily they got sidetracked by trinkets that weren’t on the shopping list. Oh! And how they always managed to locate a random old person they knew from God knows where who engaged them in talks that appeared to stretch for hours.

Harry would try and make up reasons not to go with them sometimes, but he always felt a little guilty about it afterwards. After all, it was a very small favor for him to help his grandparents with their groceries, considering they had been the ones to provide him with a loving home after his parents failed to do so.

People always seemed to feel sorry for him when they found out he'd grown up without his “real parents” around, but he'd never had reasons to complain, really. Unlike his parents, Joe and Martha had always treated him nicely and made him feel genuinely loved.

They were a little overprotective at times, but like Y/N always said, that was probably because they watched too much TV.

Speaking of Y/N, Harry didn't hate grocery shopping with her so much. He even kind of enjoyed it as long as the space wasn't too crowded. That day it wasn’t, which he was extremely thankful for because it reduced the chances of them bumping into any familiar faces who might ask about his grandparents, or if the girl he was with was his girlfriend.

That’s another thing he detested about running into people his grandparents were friends with - they loved to pester him with indiscreet questions about his love life that made him go red-faced. It was even worse when he happened to be with Y/N during those times; fortunately, she was always a bit clueless about it. Harry guessed that the reason for that was that she was so comfortable with their friendship that she wasn't even aware of what was going on… even if she thought it a little odd that he kept introducing her as his neighbor even though they weren't neighbors anymore.

Despite the fact that they no longer lived next door to each other, Y/N was still a frequent visitor at Harry’s house. Ever since his family relocated to a different area of the city, it had become custom for her to spend the night whenever the two had group projects to do.

Their journey was always the same. As they got off the bus from school, they would head to the supermarket to stock up on frozen pizzas and late-night goodies to help them through the long hours they’d be spending working on their computers.

That day was no different. They'd just grabbed their pizzas, and were now wandering around the drinks aisle looking at the options.

“Do you think your grandma would notice if we hid one of these in your backpack?” Asked the ex-neighbor, Y/N. The smile on her face got him figuring she was up to no good… even before he noticed the bottle of whatever alcoholic beverage she was holding.

The idea startled him a little more than he'd like to admit. “Don’t start! And put it back before anyone sees you.”

The way his body jumped made Y/N laugh as she set the bottle back on its shelf. “Relax, okay? I was only messing with you... I knew you'd be too chicken to do it. But just so you know, they don't even ask for an ID most times.”

He replied to her with a headshake. “You're not as cool as you think just because you get drunk with your friends every once in a while.” She didn’t seem too pleased by his remark, but Harry figured that by now she ought to know he didn't mean most of what he said when he was annoyed. “You can get an iced tea… or a pepsi… or that weird-flavored soda you like.”

“Fine.”

Harry noticed that even after he allowed her to pick her favorite drink, Y/N still didn't seem particularly happy with him. She trailed behind him in silence while he pushed the cart around and didn't even appear to care when they walked past the shelf where her usual go-to snack was.

“Did you know that statistically, people who start drinking in their teens have a 5 times higher likelihood of becoming alcoholics than those who only start later?” Harry knew it probably wasn't the best conversation topic to get her to talk to him, but it was the only thing that came to his mind in the moment.

“Did you know that stating facts like that makes you look 1000 times more of a nerd than you already are?”

Harry snorted at her retort. “You didn't seem to mind me being a nerd when you asked me to work on the paper with you.”

“I do every paper with you, why should this be any different?”

He smirked at that. It was true. He and Y/N had attended every academic year together since they first met in elementary school, and they had managed to enroll in almost all of the same classes each time. They were currently in their senior year of high school, and their friendship was still pretty solid despite their different personalities and social interests.

Y/N was in the midst of a rebellious phase. In the beginning it all had been quite harmless, with her obsession with dyeing the ends of her hair crazy colors and pairing fishnets with knee socks. That somehow led her into starting to hang out with people Harry considered to be a little unnerving.

He wasn't sure what exactly made him annoyed about them... Maybe it was because he was a little resentful over having to “compete” for Y/N's attention and feared he would one day completely lose her to them, given that they were undoubtedly the cooler part of the equation. Perhaps part of it was also because those people reminded him of the kind who used to bully him for being a dork when he was younger. Thankfully, he wasn't being bullied as much anymore, but he still didn't have many friends.

He also barely interacted with girls, as one might expect. There were times he had crushes, but he was always afraid to talk to them, so things never really went anywhere. Thus, Y/N was really Harry's only female friend.

He confesses sometimes he was surprised she still wanted to hang out with him as much as she did. When she became popular, Harry naturally assumed she would ditch him for social status reasons, but that never happened, which was a big relief to him since he liked having her around.

They were both geeky, so they watched a lot of movies and played video games together... but when it came to other things, they were a little different. Y/N had a much better sense of style, was much more social, and enjoyed doing dumb things like smoking weed and getting drunk behind her parents’ backs.

Harry had never really understood the appeal of it. In fact, his lack of interest in participating in that stuff sometimes worried him a bit, but again... it wasn’t like he wasn’t curious.

There were a few times when he thought it would be cool if he could hang out with Y/N and her friends, go out drinking, dance, and maybe, just maybe, if he was very very lucky, even get to kiss someone on the mouth.

But then he always ended up reasoning that people like him weren't welcome at parties and that if he ever dared to step foot into one he'd probably end up being the butt of everyone’s jokes.

Even knowing so, he couldn't help fantasizing about it… especially the last part. Yes, Harry definitely thought about intimacy a lot more than he'd ever be willing to admit… and he also pondered a lot about how being practically invisible to girls sucked… and about how much he wished one would give him a chance.

He was aware of his issues, however. He knew he wasn’t exactly the hottest guy around. His haircut and clothing were out of style, mostly because he lacked the confidence to mess with his looks and follow the trends the way other people did. He’d buy new t-shirts sometimes; the only thing was that they almost always had gaming-related designs which obviously didn't do his style much good.

But it wasn’t all bad. Harry knew he had nice eyes… he just couldn't get the girls to come close enough to notice them. He figured the way he stared at the floor when he walked, along with the thick glasses he had been wearing since childhood had also taken part in preventing people from noticing how green his eyes were.

He thought Y/N had nice eyes as well, and he liked the way she accentuated them with make-up… even when her eyeliner turned out a little uneven or got smudgy because she forgot she had it on and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.

She'd been doing that a lot in the last hour they'd been working on their paper, which was making Harry feel a little bad.

Normally, by that time in the evening Y/N would already be working on her part, but as they'd started later than usual, she wasn't. Also, being the control freak he was, Harry always wanted to be the one in charge of the research portion of any papers they worked on. Leaving the final task of writing and flourishing to Y/N.

So the poor girl had been sitting next to him for hours, watching him go through articles on his laptop.

Harry could tell by the increased frequency of her yawns that her battery was running low, so he wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard her hesitantly ask, “Are you planning on staying up much longer? Aren’t you getting tired?”

“Um… not really. I found this really cool essay and want to make sure we gather all of their data.” He was so preoccupied with copying and pasting that he didn't even look away from the screen as he replied to the question. “It's a shame we don’t have any hot springs nearby... wouldn't it be cool if we could collect samples of these microbes and study them in the school lab?”

“Are you for real?” She looked at him like he was crazy as she let her back slide halfway down the bedframe. “Do you really find these stupid water microbes that interesting?”

“Not all of them, it’s just that I’d never considered that there could be some growing and thriving in actual boiling water… since, you know, that’s what’s supposed to kill them.” Due to the silence that followed, Harry realized that despite Y/N's efforts to keep him company, she was moments away from falling asleep. “Should I go get the air mattress to make your bed?”

“I can't sleep. I haven't done my part yet.”

“It's fine; we still have the entire day tomorrow to finish.”

“Don't bother with me if you’re focused on the paper. I just need to close my eyes for a bit, but I won’t fall asleep.” She promised, but Harry knew better than to believe her. “Do you mind if use your covers? Your room’s a bit chilly.”

“No, not at all.” He didn't mind it, in fact, he even found it a little exciting. Not in a pervy way, but it felt good to know that a good looking girl would be using his bed and leaving her girly scent on it. Harry tried not to dwell on those kinds of thoughts over Y/N too much, but of course he thought she was hot. He wasn’t that blind.

He hadn't always felt that way. For a long while Harry just thought of her as his best friend, but she'd grown into her curves in the last couple of years and he would be lying if he said his eyes and mind didn't occasionally wander. He felt a little bad about it, but it wasn't like he was ever going to do anything other than fantasize, so he supposed it was alright… as long as she didn’t catch on.

Truth be told, he’d always liked Y/N’s personality, but as of recently her looks and the way she dressed had also made her the type of girl he was attracted to on the outside. Yes, it was always the girls who wore alternative clothing and scowled a lot that caught his eye.

He was aware that his preference sounded extremely stereotypical coming from a shy loser like him, but it wasn’t like he could help what he was keen on.

“Is the entire chapter on Volcanic Islands really necessary?” She asked, leaning further into him so she could see the laptop screen despite being laid down.

“I'm not sure if it's necessary, but I thought we should at least mention these two islands since they keep coming up.” He could feel her sigh of defeat on his arm. “It’s already halfway done. I've already gotten all the info about Iceland… now all that's left is this tiny archipelago in Portugal.” With that, he rushed to type the final location on the Google search bar but was taken aback by Y/N's chuckling. “What are you laughing at?”

“Do you not know how to delete your browsing history?” She asked him, still laughing.

Harry's brows furrowed slightly, but he smiled along. “Huh, why? Seriously random that.”

“Random, really? I may only be half awake, but I can still see.”

“See what?”

“See Pornhub come up on your suggestions when you started typing Portugal.” Harry's face dropped instantly. Then, with a harsh slam, he shut his laptop lid. He could feel his entire body tensing up as a burning wave swept across his face, hotter than he'd ever felt before. “Harry, relax!” Y/N remarked when she saw him like that. She seemed rather worried about it as she clung to his arm and shook it. “Hey, look at me, this isn’t a bad thing. You don't have to-”

Before she could say anything else, Harry covered his face with his sheets and muttered, “Yes it is. It’s embarrassing.” Honestly, even that felt like a tame word to describe how he was feeling. This was, hands down, one of the most awkward circumstances he’d ever been in. He wasn't prepared to deal with it, so he chose to remain hidden and avoid further conversation.

He knew he'd have to come out at some point, but he couldn’t bear the thought of facing Y/N knowing that she knew he watched porn and wanked. It was making him feel all kinds of yucky, which was why he was a bit shocked by what happened right after.

Y/N ventured under the sheets after him, and eventually nestled into his side. The warmth felt nice, but being so close to her was weird. He liked it, but it also made him feel worse at the same time, given that she'd been the catalyst for his breakdown in the first place and all that. Plus, he still couldn't wrap his head around why she wanted to touch him when he felt so icky.

Despite the fact that they were right next to each other, it took a while for one of them to venture breaking the silence. By the time Harry tried, he had a dry mouth, so he had to swallow first. “I know it’s not your fault, but I'd honestly rather you hadn't said anything because knowing you saw is making me feel like shit.”

His faltering whispers seemed to stun Y/N a little, as if she'd already accepted that they wouldn't be talking for the rest of the night. “There's no need for you to feel that way… especially with me.” She returned his hushed words. “I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you'd get like this. I was just joking.”

“I know, but it still bothers me.” Harry was a little surprised by how at ease he felt speaking in quiet whispers while hiding under his covers. For some reason, talking to Y/N in this setting wasn’t as mortifying as he'd anticipated. “And just to be clear, I have no idea how that ended up in my suggestions. I always use incognito mode for that stuff.”

He couldn't see her, but he could feel her shrug. “You must have forgotten to open a new tab. It has happened to me before.”

“Oh. So. You watch it too?”

“Doesn't everybody, at least once in a while?”

“I don’t know… I suppose they must, yeah.” They both fell quiet for a bit, but not for longer than a few breaths as Harry felt the urge to clarify something. “I don't want you to think I'm a perv, though. I don't watch it all that often… not the kind of stuff that you’re probably thinking I watch, anyway.”

“What do you think I think you watch?”

“I don’t know, like… cringy, scripted porn… you know, the usual “oh no, I’m stuck!” stuff that shows up on the main page.”

“Um… I’ll be honest, you’ve always came across as more of a Hentai guy to me. And before you say anything, this isn't just me calling you a weeaboo. I've watched my share too and overall, I think it's much better than that other stuff you were talking about.”

“Yeah, fine... I'll admit that I like Hentai, but it’s not all I watch.” Harry wasn't sure why he felt so keen on sharing all of a sudden, but weirdly, he was kind of enjoying their conversation. He found the topic interesting, and he'd never had the chance to discuss it with anybody in person before so… it was fun. And, on top of that, Y/N was disclosing a bit too and he liked that he was getting to know this part of her as well. “Do you know what audio porn is?” She hummed and nodded yes. “Cool, so, there’s this category called ‘guided masturbation’ that’s basically just girls talking and like... telling you what to do. There’s no visual content really, but it has a very real feel to it that I like... almost as if you're on the phone with someone.”

“That's interesting, actually. I always thought that audio porn mostly for women, since, you know... everyone says men are visual creatures.” She shifted her weight slightly, turning towards him. “But you still find naked girls hot, right? the sight of them?”

“Well, of course. I’d be worried if that wasn’t the case.” Her question struck Harry a little, but he liked that she was acting curious and asking him things. “Honestly, I think the reason why I don't watch more regular porn is because I can't picture myself living out the fantasies. I don’t know, it’s weird to explain.”

“You can’t picture yourself in a sexy plumber costume ready to unclog a hot milf’s pipes?”

Harry snorted. “You're joking, but that's pretty much what it is.”

She hummed as she drew closer to him on the bed. This time her, placing her head into the crook of his arm. Her mouth was closer to Harry's ear in this position, although he wasn't aware of this until he heard, and felt, her whisper again. “Is that why you like to hear girls telling you what to do? because you're a bit unexperienced?”

Harry wasn't usually one to cuss, but shit. Hearing her whisper that somewhat snarky question so close to his ear struck a chord with him. It was freaking hot and kind of reminded him a bit of the audios he liked. Obviously, it wasn't as explicit, but it was better in many ways. A huge downside to the experience, however, was that it was extremely difficult to concentrate afterward. In fact, in the midst of his thoughts, Harry almost forgot to reply. “Um… I guess? I’m sorry, I kind of forgot what the question was.”

“No, it’s all good. I’m sure you must be getting tired.” With that, Y/N crawled out from under the covers. As she did so, her hand stumbled onto Harry’s toppled over laptop. “Oh, I didn’t even notice this was here. We should probably turn it off, right? Assuming you don't want to keep working after this.”

Harry also came out from hiding and sat up in a position similar to hers, with his legs partially covered by the covers. As his eyes re-acclimated to the brightness of the room, he massaged them a little. “Sure. I’ll just need a moment to, uh… make sure the file got saved properly, if that’s okay.”

Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, Y/N snatched his pillow from his side of the bed. She tucked it under herself and slid back under the sheets. “I've got a comfy bed right here so… feel free to take as much time as you need.”

He smiled at her antics as he readjusted the laptop over his legs and opened it. Turns out the file had been autosaved, but Harry still saved it once more before switching off his computer and setting it over his desk. “Yeah, that's fine. I don’t mind giving you my bed for the night and sleeping on the air mattress for a change.”

“Or you could spare yourself and sleep right there instead of worrying about which one of us will be sleeping on the floor.”

Her offer caused his eyebrows to rise, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing to do. He liked the idea of it but was a little concerned about accidentally doing something embarrassing in the middle of the night. What if he made a toot? Or worse, had a wet dream? He hadn't had any recently, but one never knew when it might start happening again. In any case, he'd probably wake up with a stupid morning wood as usual, which was something that he could typically make go away before he got up when Y/N was around… but if she was going to sleep next to him, wasn’t there a chance she could tell? That prospect made him terrified. “Um… I'm not sure that I'm a good sleep partner; grandma says I used to move a lot in my sleep when I was small.”

“Oh. I don’t mind. I just don't feel like sleeping by myself tonight for some reason.” Y/N shrugged, leaving him unsure of what to say next. It was already difficult to say no when it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it became nearly impossible when he looked at her and met her begging eyes.

Well then, if she was being so casual about it, he figured it must not be that common for people to do humiliating things in their sleep, contrary to what he had previously been led to believe by his insecurities. The other factor that was pushing him to say yes was that having to get up to grab the air mattress from the attic and make Y/N a bed sounded a little too demanding for how lazy he was feeling. His bed wasn't even tiny either, so they'd have plenty of room to spread out without troubling one another throughout the night. “Ok, alright. But don't grumble tomorrow about having trouble falling asleep because of me. This was entirely your idea.”

“I don’t grumble.” He made sure to let her see his eyeroll before turning off the lights and getting into bed with a second pillow for himself. No one said anything for a bit, they were just adjusting their positions in search for the most comfortable one. Harry was still wide-awake, but he believed it wouldn't be long until Y/N fell asleep. She was already close to when they were working on the paper, so it shouldn't take long at all.

She proved him wrong, though, when she blurted out something after minutes of being quiet. “I have another question for you...”

“Oh. What’s that?”

Harry saw a shadow that he believed to be her head poking up from the pillow, propped on what should be her arm. Her voice sounded quite chirpy too, which meant he’d probably underestimated how awake and willing to chat his friend actually was. “Have you ever… like, kissed anyone?”

“That’s so random.” It was during times like these that Harry wished he could travel back in time. If he could go back and pretend to be asleep two seconds ago when Y/N asked if she could ask him a question, he wouldn’t even hesitate. Heck, he'd even pretend to snore if it meant not having to respond but alas, since Harry didn’t have any time travel abilities, that wasn’t an option. She knew he was awake and was anxiously awaiting his response. “You're quite random sometimes, Y/N...”

Her voice was hushed, yet a little taunting. “That’s not an answer.”

Harry sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let him off the hook until he participated in the discussion she wanted to have. “Alright, then… define kissing... does something like a peck qualify?”

“No, Harry. I'm talking about actual kissing. Tongue and all.”

“Oh um. I knew that, obviously.”

“And did you do it or not?”

“Yeah I, uh. I've kissed...” His words stumbled slightly. They didn't come out as cool or confident as he’d hoped, but he did try to make his statement sound plausible. “But it wasn’t with a lot of tongue... just like, a little bit.”

Y/N let out a snort at his unconvincing answer. “You’re a shit liar, but fine. I used to lie about it too when people asked me.” Rather than defending himself, Harry didn't say anything, which told his friend all she needed to know. “Is it something you think about, though? would you like to do it?”

“Well, yeah… of course I’d like to. Even some of the guys I hang out with have done it... and you’ve seen them.” Harry felt a bit mean making that remark about his friends' looks. Obviously, he wanted them to have someone who liked them, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had much going in terms of physical appeal. “I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I know I’m the problem and that the reason why I haven’t kissed yet is because I’m not a kissable person. My only hope is that things will change once we start college. I don't know if I ever told you before, but I've been thinking about switching to contacts. I was also thinking it could be nice to exercise a bit just so clothes would fit me better. What do you think? It should help, right?”

Even in total darkness, Harry could tell that Y/N's eyebrows were deeply furrowed by her tone of voice. “Who was it that told you you weren't kissable?”

“Nobody needed to tell me. I see myself every time I look in the mirror. I dress like my grandpa and have a bit of a hunch like him too.”

“I think you're mistaking being unattractive for wearing clothes that aren’t particularly flattering. It's very different.” Harry knew she couldn't see it, but he was kissing his teeth at what she’d said. “If the reason why you want to make those changes is to feel better about yourself, then you have my full support… I do, however, have a feeling that’s not all it is, so I hope you realize that you don’t have to bend over backwards to be likable or kissable, or anything else. You already are all of those things exactly as you are.”

“I appreciate you sugarcoating things to make me feel better but if what you are saying were true, and I was fine the way I am, I wouldn't have this much trouble finding someone who saw that in me.” He sighed, a little annoyed by her efforts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard for me to believe you’ll ever understand what it feels like to be me. You’re like... the coolest, most kissable girl ever.”

There was a slight click, and suddenly the room got soaked in an orange light that caused Harry to squint despite his familiarity with it. His bedside table lamp was on, and Y/N was staring at him in awe. “You think I’m kissable?”

Crap. Had he really blurted it out that way? He couldn't recall the precise words he had used, but it seemed unlikely that Y/N was asking him that for no reason. She looked very taken aback by what she’d heard, and Harry, who still hadn't a clue how he’d managed to put his foot in it yet again, felt his face turn red and his tongue stutter once more. “Not in a weird way! Maybe I phrased it in a way that made it seem like I was being weird, but it was just a form of expression. Not that what I said isn’t true, but I would never say it like that. Even if I wanted to kiss you, which has never crossed my mind, really.”

“Hm.” Y/N’s gaze was drawn to her hands as he finished. Harry observed that she was picking at her nail polish, which was rather unusual for her unless she was nervous. “Is it really that ridiculous? I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind...”

His forehead wrinkled. “Why? Because you feel sorry for me?”

“No Harry, because I'd like to.”

“Me? You’d like to kiss me? Why?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” Her tone was a little hesitant, but she carried on. “Aff, okay… screw it. I might as well tell you since we’re talking about it. So, I, uh. I have a bit of a thing for you. I’ve had it for a while, but it was never serious… since well, I never really felt like there was a real possibility that it could be reciprocated. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner, that and because I wasn't sure how things would turn out if you rejected me so… I figured it would be best not to say anything.” She shrugged once more, as a small smile formed on her lips. “You’ve also never mentioned having any crushes or being into anyone, so I thought maybe you weren't interested in that type of stuff much.”

“Yeah, right.” Harry rolled over in bed, facing away from her. It wasn’t unusual of Y/N to play practical jokes on him from time to time, but this one did not go over well with him. It seriously screwed with his self-esteem and since it was her, he could have easily been tricked into admitting something he'd end up regretting. “I know you’re taking the piss and I don't think it's funny, like, at all.”

“Why would I be taking the piss? Do you really think I'd joke about something like this? And look at me when I'm speaking to you!” She pulled on his shoulder, compelling him to lie onto his back so she could at least see his face.

Harry complied with her, but not without a groan. “I'm serious Y/N. If you’re trolling, this is your one chance to say so ‘cause If I find out later that you were doing this to see me make a fool of myself or to get me flustered, I'm going to get really, really angry at you.”

“I may play a lot of dumb jokes, but I don't play with people's feelings like that… let alone my friends' feelings. I'm dead serious, Harry. It's really not that hard to see it if you think a little.” She huffed, upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She'd guessed he’d act a little wary at first but hadn't expected him to think she was pulling a prank on him. How could he have missed that she had a thing for him anyway, with how touchy she was when they were alone together? With her acting so eager to be his first kiss? She'd been shit at hiding it for years. It was so clear. “Do you remember when we were kids... my parents took us to a fancy playground by a lake and... there was a girl there who had a Nintendo but wouldn't let me play with it, she would only let you, so I snatched it away?”

"Yeah, I remember.” As he replied, Harry was unable to stop himself from letting out small laugh at the memory. “And then you threw it in the water because you'd heard from someone that Nintendo’s were waterproof. Your parents got so mad, and she wouldn't stop crying. It was awful.”

“Yeah, that. Except, I never really thought that they were waterproof. I did it because she was nasty... and it made me upset that you’d left me to play on the slide alone.” Y/N admitted, also laughing and shaking her head a bit at her childish antics. “I didn't know back then what being jealous was, but I think about that day sometimes... it makes me feel embarrassed obviously, but it also makes me realize that I've always been really possessive of you. I think if you'd turn out to have many girlfriends I would have realized much sooner that my feelings for you weren't just friendly ones.”

“Wow. Was that really what that was?” Harry was stupefied and Y/N couldn't not giggle at his open mouthed reaction. “I’m sorry, it’s just… this whole thing is really confusing. My head is spinning a bit and... being completely honest, part of me still thinks that you’re joking but at the same time, you seem serious enough so I’m gonna choose to believe you. Even if I have no idea why you'd like me that way, other than maybe ‘cause I'm tall.

“The hair too. Don't forget your fluffy hair.” She added playfully. “No but, even though I like those things, they aren’t the reason why I like you. I just do. There’s no logical explanation for it.”

“Yeah, um. That makes sense. I mean, not really but I think I understand that feeling you were describing and… I can kind of relate to it too since I've kind of had a small crush too since last year… or well, I've realized last year... back when you were dating that Joshua guy. It made me jealous. I’ve always thought it was silly though, so I tried not to think about it too much.” Harry acknowledged, albeit doing it with more trepidation and delay than Y/N had. “I've had other crushes too, but they were on girls I never talked to so... they didn’t last too long.”

“Wait so… you’ve had a crush too? since that long?”

“I- uh.. I have. Yeah.”

“You must be really good at hiding your feelings then, because I never noticed anything that suggested that, much less that you were jealous. Trust me, if I had any inkling I would’ve had this conversation with you last year instead of doing what I did. I didn’t even like Joshua much… I just wanted to have someone.” She pursed her lips in a mournful smile before reaching out for Harry's hand. It wasn’t the first time that their hands had brushed, but this time something in Harry's chest was sparked by her touch, making him feel both ecstatic and stiff at the same time. “It's nice that you've had other crushes, though. I think I'd be more upset if I found out you'd been caught up on me all this time and I'd just been completely unaware of it. With that said, I don't want you thinking about other girls now. Only me.”

“Yeah, okay. Just you. I like how that sounds a lot.” Harry had no idea what had possessed him, but he felt compelled to bring her hand to his mouth and kiss it. His gesture made her giggle, but he got somewhat self-conscious afterwards. “Was that lame? Probably, right?”

“No, it was cute. I liked it.” She reciprocated by lifting his hand to her mouth and placing a kiss over his knuckles. “Is there anywhere else you’d like me to kiss?”

With a tentative smile, he gave her a direct glance before nodding. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him but as they got closer, Harry's body tightened a little. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, yet the sight of the rosy, fluffy cushions was giving him pause. “I’m sorry if I’m not… uh… if I don’t know how to...”

She gave his cheek a comforting caress. “That’s fine, but are you okay? You’re shaking a bit.”

Harry laughed, feeling rather frustrated with himself. “Yeah, um… sorry about that. I'm just really nervous.”

“It can wait if you're not ready.” Y/N made a point of assuring him, even though she had a feeling that waiting wasn't what Harry wanted. He was just nervous, which was totally normal for someone who was about to get their first kiss. The most she could do was try to make him a bit calmer. “Is there anything specific that you're worried about?”

“No, I’m ready. It's just a bit overwhelming. This is all so alien to me… it’s a lot for my nervous system to handle.” Y/N couldn’t not frown a bit at how adorable he was as she listened. “I- I'm also a little in over my head, thinking I probably won’t be as good as the boys you've kissed before.”

“You don't have to worry about that, really. Trying stuff until you figure out what makes the other person melt is the most fun part.” She assured, before giving his hand another kiss. “We’ll learn that from one another, okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Upon his approval, Y/N pulled herself closer and higher, until her face was barely above his. They both smiled as she rubbed her nose against his... once, twice, and then it happened. She dropped her head just enough for their lips to touch.

Her tenderness and Harry's stomach-bursting butterflies were in stark contrast, making for a bizarre, yet fascinating combination of sensations.

They weren't quite in time with one another's lips but their kiss was free flowing. And it felt flawless, akin to a Vivaldi concerto or a Michelangelo masterpiece. There was something alarming about it too, however. Suddenly, Harry could feel the relatively insignificant seed of love that Y/N had planted in his heart blossom into a giant sequoia tree. And he couldn't, for the life of him, fathom the possibility of having shared a moment as nice with anyone else.

He was truly loving whatever love spell she was casting on his body with her kissing, which is why he couldn't help but let out a low whimper when he felt their lips unglue from her pulling away. “Why did you- why did you stop?”

“Your glasses are getting in the way.” She explained as she carefully started pulling them off his face. “Here, much better.” As soon as she was done placing his glasses over the nightstand, she raised her leg and straddled him. Well, sort of. It was more of an embrace; except she was laying on top of him. “This is okay, right? Not too much pressure?”

“Mh-mm. Better. Thank you.” Harry's face was flushed, and he couldn't stop smiling as he stared at her. She was so pretty, and her body over his felt so cozy. It was still hard to believe he had kissed her, but the tingle on his lips confirmed it was real, despite how uncanny it all felt. “I like this a lot, being this close to you.”

“Me too.” She ran her fingertips across his blushing skin. “You're so cute like this. I should’ve kissed you way sooner. You seem to like it too, don't you?”

“Mh-mm. I really do.” Harry desperately wanted more kisses from her, but he was still a little too unsure of himself to initiate. Besides, he’d really liked when she took initiative earlier and led the way so that’s what he wanted to happen again. “I’d like to do it some more, if that’s okay...”

Y/N smiled at his request, but wasted no time before she leaned in to taste his lips again.

It was mostly just smooches that they were trading, but that didn’t keep her from taking a nibble here and there. Harry was very responsive to her nibbles, which she appreciated. She’d never been with a boy who got whimpery and breathy just from making out before, but she found it to be incredibly encouraging and arousing.

What made it extra hot was knowing he wasn't doing it on purpose because he knew girls liked stuff like that. It was just how his body was reacting to her. She was also well aware that her kisses had gotten him bricked up instantaneously. His warm stiffness was palpable between her thighs, despite being covered by his pajama bottoms.

If it had been any of the boys she’d kissed before, the erection would have freaked her out a bit, but as it was Harry she thought it was cute that he was so excited. He wasn't the only one feeling this way though. The damp panties she had on served as a casual reminder that she was getting quite excited as well.

Despite her wants, Y/N had been doing a great job of controlling herself… only that task became much more challenging when Harry started getting more comfortable, more intuitive, and by default, touchier. At some point in the course of their kissing, he’d started sliding his hands up her back and, on occasion, giving her hips a squeeze. He'd noticed she was pleased by this, so he worked up the nerve to lower his hands to her bum and squeeze her there too.

“Not feeling so shy anymore, are you?” Y/N playfully teased, to which Harry responded by smiling and hiding his face by pulling her in for a hug. It hadn't been her intention to rub up on him, but he’d drew her in so close that their bellies were flush together, so when she shifted next he felt it on his crotch… and moaned, all deep and throaty. They stared at each other, until Y/N turned her mouth to Harry's ear and asked, “Do you want this? want me to do it again?”

His nodding was quick. “Just don't go too fast, ‘cause uh... might feel too good.”

“Okay, got it.” She said, then held onto the pillow under Harry’s head, nails digging into fabric as she began to move slowly on top of him. Rolling her hips to press down on the bulge in his pants. The pressure on her clit was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it was a relief to finally have a way to sooth some of the built-up tension, but on the other, it made her yearn for more friction.

She could feel his heavy, strained breathing against her skin. “Mm, it's too much, feels… too good. Ah-” He moaned again, once her fingers gripped at the roots of his hair.

“Shh, quiet.” Y/N covered his mouth and smiled. “I love your moans, but we have to keep it quiet.” She said, before removing her hand from his mouth and putting her lips in its place.

“I know, sorry.” Harry replied once she broke their kiss. “If I get loud again, you can repeat that hand thing if you want… it was hot.”

“Hmm, was it?” She returned her hand to his lips, but this time she allowed two fingers to go inside and prod into his mouth, that he was keeping slightly ajar for her. “That’s good, Harry. You're a natural at this, I think.” She had been straddling him with her body leaning over his, but she sat upright for a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked with her fingers in his mouth from farther away. As soon as he saw her eyes fixed on him, his lips encircled her fingers, and his tongue began to softly wriggle between them. “Mh-m... that's it. Just like that.”

As she started moving her hips again, Harry's hands shot to her waist, to hold her as she rutted against him. This gave her more balance, so she ramped up the pace, rubbing harder and faster to create the desired friction for her. The change caught up with Harry quickly, who began groan restlessly into her fingers in response. She pulled them off to let him speak. “S-slow... please go slower. If you don't, I'll-”

“Make a mess. I know. Give me your hands.” As per Y/N’s request, Harry slid his hands away from her waist and held them up between their bodies. Y/N took them, entwined their fingers together and then without warning, allowed her weight to fall forward, successfully pinning him to the bed. “I know you want to, but you're ashamed about doing it in your underwear. So, I was thinking… if I keep you like this and force it out of you, maybe you won't feel so bad about wanting it anymore. What do you say?”

“I just don't want to get you dirty, that's all. I thought I could keep it under control a little better, but I can't. It feels so much better than my hand.” Harry acknowledged, smiling shyly. “That sounds hot, though… the idea of you forcing it.”

“I know but don't worry about getting me dirty. I brought extra pjs.” She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hands. “So…you want to do it, then? Since you think it’s hot…”

A delaying groan rumbled in his throat before his lips parted into a broad smile, the kind of smile you make when you’re on the verge of breaking into laugher. “I’m going be so embarrassed about this tomorrow, but yeah. I want to.”

Y/N shook her head at him, grinning. “Don't. I've always wanted to do this. It's a bit of a fantasy of mine, I guess.” She didn’t give him a chance to react to her confession, as she started rutting against his cock again. This time she wasn’t being gentle or avoiding any harsh friction. Her movements were quicker and jerkier than they had been before, and she tightened her hold on his hands as well. She had a hunch Harry liked the feeling of being held down and used, so that's what she was doing.

He was shivering beneath her, taking fast breaths through his mouth as he looked her in the eyes. The poor baby couldn’t stay quiet for the life of him, either. His whimpers and groans were unrelenting, so she was bound to muffle him once more.

His now-free hand joined hers over his mouth, but it didn’t linger there for long since he took hold of her wrist and started guiding it downward. “My neck,” He pleaded lowly, his voice trembling. “…want your hand on my neck.”

She gave him a devilish smirk before grabbing his throat. She only needed to hold him still; there was no need to squeeze or do anything else. “And I want your cum,” she told him, hoping that slipping in a few dirty words in combination with her movements would make him snap. “…want to get all wet from it.”

Harry’s legs jerked beneath her. “Close,” He warned, a little startled. “So, so close…” The fact that she could not only hear him but also feel his words on his throat as he spoke was incredibly arousing. “Please…” He pled sweetly, what triggered a sudden desire in Y/N's chest to be closer. She released her hold on his throat and hugged him tight as she drove her hips into his, rutting violently to make him orgasm.

It worked.

Between her thighs, Y/N could feel his warm juices seeping through the material of their pajamas. So she kept rutting, wanting to make sure she had extracted every last drop of them.

Harry returned her tight hug all the way through his climax, and he didn’t let go after either. They remained in that position for a while, holding each other close regardless of the slightly unpleasant wetness that was binding them together. “We should probably change right?” Y/N asked after a beat, despite her lack of want to wrest away from him.

“M-hm. I’m all gross and sticky.” Harry laughed. “I’m gonna need another shower in the morning, but for now, I think I'll just wipe it off and put on new boxers. I mean if you don't mind that I don't wear pants to bed…”

“No, I don't mind. I'm gonna take mine off too.”

“Oh. That's a great idea. Sounds perfect to me.” Harry playfully quipped, before he got out of bed and started opening drawers. “Also, um… I don't know how to ask without being weird, but could you close your eyes for a moment? so I can take care of myself real quick?” Y/N said yes and turned away to give him privacy while he cleaned himself and changed. She was a tiny bit surprised that he hadn't wanted to use the restroom for that, but she figured that since it was closer to his grandparents' bedroom at the end of the corridor, he probably didn't want to risk going and waking them up. “Okay… you can look now.”

When Y/N looked at him next, the first thing she noticed was that he had on a pair of tight, black boxers. The next thing she noticed was that Harry was looking at her legs, since, as he’d probably seen when he turned, she had also stripped off her pants in the interim, leaving just her grey panties on. “What?” He smiled in response to her curious gaze.

She wouldn’t bring it up, but she could see he had grown a little hard in his boxers just from seeing her sprawled in bed with no pants on. “Nothing, you’re cute.”

Harry snorted at that. “Thanks, but you're much cuter.” He wandered across the room to where the supermarket bags were. “Are you thirsty? Do you want water or a snack? ”

“Hmm, just water if that’s okay.”

Harry handed her the water bottle and sat down on the bed next to her while she drank from it. “You didn’t cum…” he pointed out after a moment of pause.

“Oh um… yeah. I didn’t. It’s okay though.” Y/N laughed, shrugged, and took another sip of her water.

“Hmm.” Harry hummed, before scooting a little closer to her. “It must be a bit of an unpleasant feeling, no? and hard to sleep like that.”

“It is a little until it goes away but nothing that I can't handle.”

“Hm.” He hummed again, before Y/N cocked her head to kiss his lips. She’d only meant to give him a peck, but Harry changed her plans when he leaned in to kiss her deeper. He seemed really eager to continue kissing and well, she wasn't about to say no to him. Especially when he went so far as to nibble on her lip, which he hadn’t done before. He was also getting handsy with her, and she loved it. He was touching her more and focusing on the spots he'd learned she liked.

“That,” She blurted, as she paused to catch her breath. “That feels really nice.”

“M-hm.” He murmured against her lips as he kissed her again. His hand continued to grab at her as they kissed, to the point where Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She hadn’t meant to but ended up moving her knees apart out of desperation. Being so blatant almost made her feel ashamed, but she didn't because she felt Harry's palm wrap over her crotch. In response to his touch, she moaned into his mouth, and he moaned back, surprised at how her moisture had soaked through her panties. “Teach me.” He asked, softly. “I want to learn. I- um, want to make you go to sleep happy.”

“That’s so nice, Harry, really. I, um-” She smiled while wiping the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m already happy.” She didn’t know what was making her so overwhelmed with joy all of sudden. She’d always known Harry was boyfriend material, but it was still nice to see how much he gave thought to her needs and happiness. And she was happy. So, so happy to finally have him like this, all to herself. “Do you want me to show you how to touch?”

“Yes please. To make you feel good.”

“Okay.” She placed her hand on top of his. “Here,” she explained once she’d guided his fingers to the spot of her panties right above her clit. “Circular motions with your fingers feel really nice, so does pressure. You don't have to focus on just that spot though… the nicest feeling is when you rub there but also all over.” She glanced at him, then bit her lip and asked, “Wanna try?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry responded, adjusting his position slightly so that Y/N could get more comfortable. They decided to have her sit between his legs, facing away from him since that would make it easier for her to lead him. Once they’d both settled, Harry began to touch her in the way she had showed him, moving his hand broadly enough to reach a little bit everywhere in between her legs. “Am I doing it right?”

“Mm-hmm, you're doing really good.” Y/N was still holding his hand while he touched her, and she was fascinated by the size difference between their hands. “Your hands are really big, which... makes it feel extra good.”

“Really? That’s nice. I'm definitely grateful for that.” He said while looking down as well. “Should I put more pressure, or is it okay as it is?”

“It’s fine but I wouldn’t mind a little more...” She could tell he was afraid of hurting her, and that’s why he was being so careful and gentle in his touching. She wasn’t planning on rushing him or constantly give him directions though, so instead she simply relaxed against his chest and let him probe at his own pace. Because, after all, even though he was playing safe, she was still thoroughly enjoying herself.

It took Harry a few minutes to figure out how much pressure and speed he should be using, but eventually he pressed and swirled his fingers around her sensitive nub in a way that felt just right. When Y/N’s breath faltered he glanced at her worriedly, what made her chuckle. “No, don't worry. You didn't hurt me. Keep going like that.”

Harry smiled at that. He’d had a feeling he was starting to get the hang of it due to the way Y/N’s breathing had become more erratic and she'd begun to quiver against him on occasion but hearing it from her mouth that he was doing a good job was much, much better. He was really looking forward to making her cum. She looked so good like this, flushed and a little out of breath. She'd been staring at his face a lot from over her shoulder in the last couple of minutes, biting her lip and letting out little gasps of pleasure to let him know he was making her feel good.

“Like that. Don’t stop.” Those quiet, whispered words snapped him out of his reverie. He knew what they meant, even before she told him, “I’m really, really close.”

He'd learnt from a meme he saw once that when girls said that, boys weren't meant to speed up or change what they were doing in the slightest. So he merely focused on adding a bit more pressure, since that was something he knew she liked, and trying to keep his hand's tempo.

Despite how hot he found it, Harry wasn't very comfortable with dirty talk, but seeing her like this and recalling the perfect, filthy words she'd said to him just before making him cum, he felt compelled to give it a shot. “I can feel how wet your panties are, it’s so hot.” He whispered into her hair. “I can smell it too and it makes me want to eat you so bad. I've never done it before, but I can't stop thinking about doing it to you.” Rather than trying to sound hot, he was simply stating facts about how she was making him feel, and somehow it was working. “I wanna make you cum like this first though. From rubbing it this way, like you taught me to.”

Harry's words, paired with the precise movements of his fingertips around her pussy got Y/N right at the edge. She trembled, clutched his wrist, and strained to keep her legs open.

“Please, please, please...” She started begging out loud right before the warm pleasure bubble on her belly popped, so Harry did the same thing she’d done to him and muffled her by putting his free hand over her mouth.

He hadn't anticipated being able to feel when a girl orgasmed, but he was. He could feel the strong pulse under his fingers as soon as Y/N started to cum, and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. He could also feel the damp spot on her panties becoming even wetter as he rubbed her through it and God, the smell… it was making his mouth water.

If she didn’t look so exhausted, Harry would have begged her to let him take off her panties and lick her clean, but those puffy, glossy eyes didn't permit his mind to stray any further. If there was one thing Harry understood about Y/N, it was how she looked just before falling asleep, and that was exactly how she was getting.

So he helped her into bed and laid down beside her, but his heart wouldn't let him fall asleep before he asked, “You’re staying for the entire weekend, right?” and his ears picked up a faint “M-hm” in return.

This was going to be the best weekend ever.

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x yn #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #nerd!harry #sub!harry #harry styles x you #purplekiwis #kissable

960 notes · View notes

fanficwriterlover · 1 year ago

Text

Safe With A Ghost

+18 Readers Only

Chapter 2 : All Those Who Suffer

Summary : After making a narrow escape, you find yourself wounded and alone...will you survive? Will Simon/Ghost ever hear about you if you die ? For now...all you have is will power and hope.

What to Expect: Self Stitching, Blood, Killing, Gore, Cursing, Pet-Name, military stuff (I'm not a pro so sorry for my inaccuracies), medical issues, tension, shouting, rage, crying, emotions,mentions of nausea etc.

Pet name: Pigeon

Word Count: 4.6K

════ ⋆Safe With A Ghost MasterList⋆ ════

═════════ ⋆Chapter 3⋆ ═════════

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghost got off the heli, that picked him up at the airport in Manchester...he barely slept a wink. When the heli, landed he immediately grabbed his duffle bag getting off the helicopter. Stepping off grudgingly, he felt the vibration in his pocket ignoring the sound of Soap calling for him in the distance.

He smiled under his mask feeling already better despite the dread of going to work in a minute. Seeing he's already got a message from you. He figured by now, you've headed to work, as you're holding your cup of coffee for you long night shift ahead. Even though to his constant detest for such a drink, you simply however thrived on it over a well made cup of tea. He'll never understand your American taste palette but luckily he loved you enough to "allow" (yes he is allowing because if you were a recruit he would've thrown out the coffee maker long ago) it. Yet seeing your message brought him back to the present as he replied back.

You: Miss you already... :(

Ghost: I miss you too pigeon, you at work ?

You: Image Sent

Looking at the picture, it made his heart beat, it was a picture of you smiling, your genuine smile. You were in your lab coat, your hair in your normal high ponytail, and red nurse shirt. You were of course to no surprise, holding your favorite mug of coffee, yet he tried to ignore that detail. He saved the picture onto his phone setting it for your contact number. Whenever he got a new picture of you, he'd update the contact photo so he could see the last picture of you. It was almost like a habit, one he was sure you knew. And you seem to indulge him in. Sadly, he knew he had a job to do and sent you one quick text.

Ghost: Gorgeous. I'll be back before you know it pigeon.

You: Counting on it. Be safe, I love you !

Ghost: Love you too.

With that he made his way to his quarters, to put away his stuff, and put on his gear. His old familiar bunker was the same as the last time he left it. He tossed down his duffle bag behind the foot of his cot, and went to his small locker where he kept his stuff. Pulling out his vest, glasses, balaclava with the skull stitched onto it, gloves, and other weaponry equipment. It was a process to put everything on, and holster all his weapons. Checking his pistol, rifle, grenades, smoke bombs, etc. He always had a mental checklist on making sure he was all prepared. Getting his comms on and ear piece in as he was beginning to adjust to the weight of the vest. Stepping out of his bunker, Simon, was gone, now it was Ghost.

You looked at your final text from Simon, heart lurching, as you kept reading the same text over and over and over again.

Ghost: Gorgeous. I'll be back before you know it pigeon.

How such simple words made you linger over them, analyzing it, dissecting it, interpretating. Your overthinking brain trying to make a whole scenario of the message, wondering what he was doing at the time he texted you, was he really missing you ? Does he really think you're gorgeous ? So many questions racing through your head, you had to shake your head abruptly to regroup yourself and tell yourself Stop overthinking it...he loves you... he'll be back for you....he thinks your beautiful...don't let your mind fiddle his words. You were in the bathroom after feeling nauseous, you figured it probably was the meals you both had over the course of Simon's return home, he did have a sweet tooth and you both were eating a lot of bake goods. After taking a minute to regain your composure you made you way to the front desk asking the nurse for a new chart to examine your next patient. The nurse Carina, seemed to tell you were feeling off as she was a close co worker friend, looked up from her computer screen with a concerned looked "You okay y/n, you've looked like youre about to hurl down this aisle ?" You laugh softly as she was holding your next patients chart as you reached for it "I'm fine Carina, just my boyfriend was on a bake good spree and I'm feeling the effects" Carina eyed you head to toe as you watched her slowly give off a mischievous grin "Oh ? You and your boyfriend huh ? Maybe your pregnant" You were already glancing down at the chart when she had said that as you look up abruptly blushing "I'm a doctor, I'd think I'd know when I'm pregnant, besides I'm on the pill" you wave you hand dismissively making your way to your patients waiting room "Next case here I come..." you shout over your shoulder heading to the elevator "Don't be spreading false rumors !" Carina cursed under her breath as she huffed "Still think you should take a test !" Rolling your eyes getting into the elevator you began looking over at this patients chart you when the elevator door dinged, you started to make your way to their waiting room considering every detail they've given to the nurses. You found it weird the chart mention this man having a cold, this was annoying to you, wasting your time over a mere cold, when anyone could just nurse themselves back to health at home. But it was your job, nonetheless, to treat people. When you opened the door, there stood a big man, you would've thought it was Simon but didn't give off the same aura. His was more prominent like he almost want to be noticed. He had tattoos all around his neck, he reeked of alcohol and smoke (judging from your sense of smell which you never realized how strong it was, definitely smelled of weed, but you weren't going to comment on that). His eyes were black and hollow as you took note that he wasn't sitting in the chair, no he was standing arms crossed like he's been expecting you. Weird...he doesn't look sick..."So....Mr-" Before you could even finish saying his last name, you felt an arm slip around you and cover your mouth, you felt something press into your lower back, it was cold, you realized it was a gun. You eyes wanted to sob, your mind racing, you was staring at the large figure as the man behind you spoke "Move. Scream. Or try to run, I'll put a bullet through you...you hear ?" Judging by his voice he almost had an accent.... it was gruff in a way, no charismatic, just blunt "Nod your head for me velikolepnyy (gorgeous) if you understand?" Mustering the courage you slowly nodded you head. "See ? Wasn't so bad. Now you're going to walk out this hospital calmly. We're just gonna get a...what you Brits say ? Cuppa tea ?" He Snickers near your ear, it was horrifying to hear. "aye, but you aren't British are ya malen'kiy (little one) " All you could do was look at the man in front of you, now that you're studying him, he was dressed in a sweater (even though it wasnt that cold out for a jacket), thick pants with lots of pockets, his bald head and bodyguard like face. He definitely gives off, mafia vibes, someone who'd snap you like a toothpick if he needed to.

The man spoke to the other man "Poshli, yesli kto meshayet, ustranim." (Let's go, if anyone interferes, eliminate.) The big man in front of you reached into his sweater which you could only presume he had a gun as well...How the hell, they get through security?! He spoke "My ne khotim ustraivat' stsenu, budet besporyadok" (We don't want to make a scene, it will be a mess.) Feeling the gun press harder into your back you wince "bylo by veseleye, chem snova, ya uverena, chto s etoy kukloy... my obyazatel'no vyzovem prizraka"(it would be more fun than again, I'm sure that with this doll... we will definitely summon a ghost) whatever was said they both gave a deep chuckle, you presumed the worse meaning they had horrible intentions for you. Pulling you from your thoughts he took his hand away from your mouth as you stayed silent as he roughly grabbed your arm forcing you to walk at his side. You had to walk at their brisk pace, it was hard not to scream for help, but the cold gun into your back was enough to stay silent. You just prayed you found an opening to find an escape from them. They quickly made their way to the emergency exit, one only medical staff have access to, one no one knew unless you studied the hospital floor plan, which obviously gave her a hint, these people, planned this out...they knew the layout, how to avoid cameras, the hospital weak points. As you made your way down the staircases they were talking to one another to whole descent, you however were zoned out, thinking about Simon...what would he think when he returns...a cool blast of air snapped you out of your daze. You were outside. The men now picking up their pace as you were forced to jog now, it was then the man holding a gun at your back was being neglectful. He and the man both holstered their guns, as you kept walking, you eyed at your feet and scanned around you. Plenty of covering, and building, you were surrounded by shops, businesses, etc. Out in public. It was perfect. You then took the chance, you made a fake trip, causing the man to stumble in his stride as you were able to loosen his grasp, taking the advantage, hitting him in the groin. He hit the ground hard, you made a dash to the road not caring. Behind you can hear him painfully yell "Pristreli yeye! Ne day yey uyti!" (Shoot her! Don't let her get away!)

Just when your foot hit the road you knew it was good timing because you could see a zip line of cars coming. You just kept running even after hearing a loud pop, you felt your body shot up with fear,coldness,and nausea, but you kept going. Running on pure adrenaline, weaving through people. As you make it around a corner seeing a hotel dashing inside. In that moment, you were safe...for now...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pulling up about 90 klicks they got out of the humvee. Price gripped the edge of his vest to speak "Alright, Alpha Team will consist of Ghost and Soap, you two will handle the ones at entry, Bravo Team will be Gaz and I, we'll cover you and handle the ones on rooftop. Infiltrate, collect data, then pull out. Laswell's on channel 2 keep it on everything will go through HQ, any leads is what we're after, otherwise if anything arises we verify with Laswell, Is that clear ?" Everyone nodded their heads. As Price grabbed his rifle "Alright...let's see what's in store for us."

Soap and Ghost kept low, making their way into position, they both laid low to examine the warehouse, Ghost was looking through his scope on his rifle while Soap was using some binoculars, they were observing the place and how many were keeping watch. The comms rang out as it was Price "Ghost, Soap ? You in positions ?" Ghost reached for the button to respond "Affirmative, eyes on building." Looking through his scope briefly, Laswell than responded from HQ "This is Watcher, to Alpha Team 01 and 02, you're clear to eliminate any targets in your way" Both Ghost and Soap responded through their comms "Rog". Ghost held up his rifle close to his chest, as he made hand gestures for Soap to follow, making their way down to the building, staying in the blind so they wouldn't be spotted. They had their night visors down, as they got closer, they both pulled out their knives, then began eliminating the 3 guards at entry. Was quick and efficient. Causing no noise as they used hand to hand weapons. Ghost slitted two the mens throats with ease, while soap had to wrestle the 3rd to the ground before stabbing. Was barely putting up a fight. Ghost didn't like that it wasn't a challenge, but they continued on. Soap spoke "I'll take point LT" Ghost grunted in approval as he hit the comms "Soap and I entering, heading upstairs." Letting go of the button,hearing a response from Price "Rog, Gaz and I won't have visual, you're on your own in there". Soap led as they did encounter some men who fired at them, however they made quick work of them firing back. As they walked over the fallen bodies, Ghost looked down at their bodies seeing that they had an insignia, he bent down to inspect as Soap stood watch. It was Russian. He cursed getting in touch "This is Alpha Team 01, Ghost to , Watcher, Copy, we got Russians in here, I repeat, we have Russians" the static came through as it was Laswell coming through "Copy Alpha Team 01. Eliminate all targets. Get the data and rendezvous back to base." Ghost comms back before standing up holding rifle "Copy that" looking at Soap who seemed ready as ever. "Right LT, let's get this done"

Without any hesitation, both Ghost and Soap made their way up to the top floor, eliminating the last bunch of men who were in a room where obviously the planning happened. There was a bunch of maps littered everywhere pinpointing particular spots, one he recognized but didn't put much thoughts, looking over documents they had, until Soap shouted "LT, you need to look at this !" Ghost head snapped to where Soap was, making his way over, when his heart dropped at the sight. Soap was holding a picture, of none other than....you. Ghost mind began to race What the fuck they'd want with y/n ?! How the hell did Russians know about you ?! Slowly it began to make sense...the pinpoint on the map looked familiar because it was where YOU worked. The picture was of you walking into the hospital. He couldn't fathom when these photos were took but all he knew was you're in danger. Soap interrupted his anger rampage in his head "Why they have pics of a lass ? Who is she ? Maybe their next target ? Perhaps she has something they want ?...Ghost ?" Soap sees Ghost turn on his heel storming out of the building as Soap held the picture of you. Soap rushed behind to catch up with Ghost as he spoke into the comms letting Price and Gaz know they had a hit and coming out. Ghost just kept walking though, Price and Gaz making their way to meet "What'd you boys find ?" But Ghost didn't pay them any mind marching back to where they left the humvee. Price looked at Soap quizzedly "What's going on Sergeant?" Soap gave a shrug "I don't know either sir, but the minute he saw this..." Hands Price the picture of you. Price frowned watching Ghost not waiting up for them. Grumbling to himself as he lets out a heavy puff from his cigar "Fuck.."

Hopping into the humvee, Ghost barely waited for everyone to pile in, already hitting the pedal before Gaz and Soap could get comfortable. Price scolding for almost losing his cigar "The hell Ghost ! What's going on ?! You better cool it Lieutenant or I'll take the wheel. " Ghost grip tightened on the wheel "Sir, she...the photos..." He processed his next words not letting them hear how shaken up he was "I know her." The captain raised his brows not wanting to pry as he could already tell from Ghost's behavior this wasn't an ordinary friend...it was someone much deeper "I see...than what ties does she have to a warehouse in Iran with Russians ?" Ghost side-eyed his Captain when Price noticed he let out a puff of smoke " Obviously it's an enemy of yours. If they know her...there's a good chance they know where you live and all of us." Gaz and Soap glanced at each other hearing this as Gaz spoke "So likely we have a rat amongst us?", Soap interjecting "If it's someone the LT knows then obviously they have deep access to shit only a handful would know." Soap rubbed his mohawk"Shit, we in quite the shit hole too, who the fuck would betray us !" This made them all sit silently tension lingering on each other's words. Price spoke up again. "From here on out. We don't rely on anyone. Even Laswell. I don't believe she'd do something like this...but that doesn't mean someone in proximity is. We'll stay off the radar. We'll go to Manchester find this girl. And figure out from there any leads to who and why we've be compromised. I'll get a hold of Nik." Gaz and Soap agreed but Ghost was silent. He was too busy worrying. Hoping nothing horrible has happened to you already. He's barely been gone a day and already you're being targeted. When I find out who fuckin took pics of her...if anyone laid a fuckin hand on you... I'll make them SUFFER dearly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were exhausted, now that the adrenaline was settling...you body was now feeling the side effects of after your narrow escape. Deciding to take a room for a couple weeks, you didn't want to risk trying to go home only for them to stalk you. You sat up on the bed of your hotel room wincing in pain, when you were running for you life, they were able to shoot you. Luckily you could tell the bullet wasn't embedded too deep, was more superficial. You could extract it on your own. You sat up groggily, having used the hotels towels and robe string to tie around you bleeding shot thigh. You never realized how much adrenaline made you almost immune to the pain, and now you're wishing it was still pumping because the pain was unbearable. This sucked...you couldn't go to your hospital too afraid they'd expect you to go there to treat your wound and leaving the hotel was not optional, least there was food. Seeing the phone at the bedside, you made an attempt to call Simon's number multiple times. Your hand was covered in blood from putting pressure on your wound as it dialed. "C'mon Simon....pick up..." Tears began to fall down your cheek as you shaked leaving another voicemail "S-Simon....I-I need you...." You began to sob into the phone "I'm scared..." It the beeped as you were shaking holding the phone tearing dropping on to the keypad. Trying to compose yourself. Deep breaths...I'm sure Simon would be here if he could...right ? You were too tired to deal with your wound but you had to suck it up and do it. Limping, standing you grabbed the pen, using the cord from the tv, a fork and knife (from food you asked to be delivered to your room and some wipes that went with it ,you began to do your own bullet removal. Luckily you've had experience but with not the correct tools it made it very challenging. You put a hand towel into your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming. You used the tv cord to wrap above the bullet wound to stop the blow flow a bit, tightening is hard as possible, as you began to cut around the bullet wound with the knife. Eventually using your hands and fork you worked into your thigh to pull it out...it was painful, you had to keep running your voice through your head as you whimpered and screamed with your gag in mouth trying to pull it out. Once you finally did, you had to force some of the curtains string using the tiny threading (your mother used to sew so you knew how to collect string from materials) you began to use the strings you had to stitch your thigh. When finished you used some cut up bed sheets to wrap around your thighs to hold the bleeding. It wasn't the best, but it would work for now. Feeling hazy, you laid back down onto the bed tears welling up as you began to fall asleep from exhaustion..."S-Simon." Was the last words you mumbled as you hoped you'd wake up and it was just a nightmare...or never at all.

Thanks to Price, he made some calls as they found someone near Manchester who could locate her quickly. They were at best 5 hours out from where you worked, Nik had picked them up flying as quick as possible. It was unnerving. He hated feeling restless not knowing where you are, if you were safe. His gut was already feeling sick to the pit of his stomach as he dreaded what may have happened to you. Especially how defenseless you'd be. He was clinching his rifle so tight he didn't even realize as Price sat next to him smoking his cigar as he tilts his brimmed cup hat back "So." He lets out a small air of smoke speaking softly as he holds the cigar in hand "Who is she really Simon ?" Hearing his name Ghost snapped his head at Price, eyes narrowing, his eyes were sunken and almost seemed furious mixed with anxious. Ghost grumbled "Don't be spatting out my name..." Price glanced at him still waiting for an answer, which Ghost relented setting down his rifle to his side, "Her name is y/n, she's my....." His features twisted as he had no problem with having you as a girlfriend but saying it to his Captain and everyone else...made him feel almost shy. "significant other..." As he gets those words out tentatively. Price was shocked....hearing Simon had a girlfriend all this time and he never knew, Little sucker didn't think he had it in em. "Seems she's quite the deal to make you lose it..." Simon flinched at this, aware of his behavior so far as Price puffed out another smoke "We'll get her back Simon." Ghost looked at him as Price gave him a nod, Ghost hoped...no knew he'd get you back. He just hoped not too late. As his mind wondered apparently Price had a phone that was a backup when they had to go incognito, it was from someone in Manchester he knew. He answered "This is Price, give me something good Rococo" Ghost frowned at the name. He never heard of it, but he just hoped the person got Intel about you. He didn't dare look in Price's direction just listening to him respond with "Mhm" "Right" "Shit" (hearing that made Ghost more anxious) settling his nerves when Price thanked the man and hung up. Taking a breath through his nose he spoke up "Alright...so, apparently the Russians did make an attempt to kidnap her..." Before he could finish Ghost shot up standing, eyes wild ready to pounce as Gaz and Soap watched uncomfortably as the Captain shouted, gripping Ghost's shoulder to settle him down, "Let me Finish Simon ! Sit !" The captain regained his composure as Ghost relented to sitting back down, going back to grip his rifle ever so tight, the rifle looked like it was bent. "She got away from them. Was caught on some security cameras near the hospital. However, she looked.....wounded. Right now, she's at a hotel. The Russians are snooping around, they're probably hoping she'll come out. As of now, she is still alive." Relief, anger, anxiety, fear, all emotions began to overwhelm him with the thought of you. He didn't know which to feel at the moment until Price interjected another thing "Also, Rococo found the room she's in, he's got access to the cameras down her hall so he'll be watching, and...he knows her room number. " In this moment, Ghost just blinked as Price offered him the incognito phone, Ghost just staring at it, he was scared you won't answer. Price could tell his reluctance as he spoke with authority"Call her Simon" Ghost took the phone obeying an order since that's something he's ever known, but he was truly scared to not hear your voice or worst if the kidnappers succeeded again and they pick up the phone. Swallowing it all. He dialed the number given from Rococo. Hearing the beep from the machine until....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the hotel phone ringing made you open your eyes slowly, as you were gazing up at an unfamiliar ceiling. You frowned for a moment taking in your surroundings realizing it wasn't a nightmare...you're still living it. You sit up, gasping out in pain, noticing your leg was still bleeding. The reminder that the phone was ringing made you reach for it answering it groggily "H-Hello ?" .....Is this a scam call or something ? Bunch of teens maybe making prank calls ? Or the office or kitchen calling ? Before you were going to hang up..you heard a familiar deep British voice, "It's me, Pigeon.... it's Simon" you froze....your eyes welling up full of tears as you were now shaking "S-Si ?" He lets out a soft huff mixed with a laugh "Yea, Pigeon it's me...." Your mind was reeling with relief hearing his voice, his deep gruff voice made you feel all warm inside "How'd you...When....This....I-" you mind was spiraling you didn't know what to feel "Deep breaths for me pigeon...I know it's a lot right now. I'm on my way." Hearing him say that, your tears began to fall "R-Really?" You could already imagine him smiling at you when he responds "Really. I know you went through a lot. I promise nothing will happen to you." This is what caught your attention as you furrow your brows "Wait...how'd you know I was here ?" You could only hear your heart beating hard scared of the answer " I can't tell you that over the phone lovie, it's a lot to take in. But I promise, when I get there. I'll tell you everything. This is my fault you're in this mess" you smiled softly wiping your tears sniffing "Yeah well, I knew from the day we met you were trouble Simon..." you let out a soft laugh for the first time in a while since this ordeal. Ghost hearing it made his heart throb, he missed your voice. "Hang tight, what room you in ?" You glance around to find a way to see what number room your in "Room, E 17" he frowned a bit " Not near the exit or elevator right ?" you laugh, now understanding his reasons for being paranoid "No, I'm away from any escape window, stairs and elevator....and Simon ?"

He lets out a shakey sigh scared if he hangs up it'd be your last time "Mmm?" You take a deep breath eyes welling up again Stupid hormones "I love you..." Waiting for what seemed like an eternity Ghost smiled under his balaclava "Yeah....I love you too Pigeon. Be there soon." That's all you needed to hear....your Simon was coming to save you. Everything will be fine now. After a few minutes of silence taking in each other's words, you hung up on him reluctantly, wishing you could stay on the phone with him forever but knew, it'd be more worth him focusing to get here. You smiled, your genuine smile. Simon, your love, was going to save you from this nightmare. Now you just have to wait for him to get here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for Reading !

ꨄ︎ I know this chapter was much shorter and felt rushed than my first, but that's cause I wanted to leave at a good cliffhanger for the next chapter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ꨄ︎Taglist:@marshallowy @babygirl-panda19 @crazy-phan-girl13

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon x female reader #simon ghost x f! reader

269 notes · View notes

mcntsee · 10 months ago

Text

— ★ works in progress!

↳ these are not in any specific order!

— KAZ BREKKER

— my wife

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Summary: This marriage was not an act of love, just pure convenience. Kaz thirsting for revenge, and her itching for a way out.

Snippet: Perhaps, in this alternate life, they might have fallen in love. In that scenario, Kaz speculated he would have invested genuine effort into getting to know her. Truly know her. And just maybe, their wedding would have been a celebration of love, not a calculated ruse.

— crimson smoke - 3.1K words

↳ (Kaz Brekker x sister! reader)

Summary: Stealing the Neshyenyer

Snippet: Her eyes widened in fear as she tried to step away from him. Her father's grip was relentless. She managed to break free but found herself unable to step back further. She whispered, "Da..."

— routine

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Snippet: But maybe routine was meant to be broken every now and then.

Still, he waited and waited, but she never came.

— what’s your name?

↳ (Kaz Brekker x civilian! reader)

Snippet: Initially, a person’s name holds little to no significance to us. However, as we build a relationship with them and feelings arise, their name acquires a new meaning. Someone's name signifies the feelings it evokes in you.

— breaking my heart

↳ (from jesper’s pov + slight platonic!crows)

Summary: Jesper’s heart breaks at the sight of Kaz Brekker, his boss and the coldest person in Katterdam, on his knees.

Snippet: His breath caught in his throat as he watched Kaz’s usually steady form falter. He watched as his knees gave way, and sank to the ground, pressing his forehead against the cold earth.

— the problem

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Snippet: “I fell in love with you.”

“Say it again.”

— my angel

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Summary: Epilogue for Fires of passion, ashes of hate from Kaz’s point of view. (Can also be read as a standalone or first part to my devil)

Snippet: She remained the sole divine thing he believed in— the one enduring belief he still clung to.

— my devil

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Summary: Epilogue for Fires of passion, ashes of hate from reader’s point of view. (Can also be read as a standalone or second part to my angel)

Snippet: He was the forbidden fruit she couldn’t resist—the captivating rebel who stole and kept her heart.

— my dearly detested

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Summary: Enemies to lovers

Snippet: "I've known you for a while now, Rietveld. Although my family wasn't much into Lij festivities, I remember you and Jordie being part of it, just like me."

— old friend (request by: lottle-is-little)

↳ (Kaz Brekker x civilian! reader)

Request: I was wondering if you could write Kaz x reader (female) where the girl is from Lij and was best friends with Kaz (like Alina and Mal) and Kaz finds photos of them and Jordie together before they moved to Ketterdam (she stayed behind when they went and lost contact) and he misses her a bunch and him and the Crows go to Lij and meet her and super fluffy and happy

— the waves (request by: @lottle-is-little)

↳ (Kaz Brekker x grisha! reader)

Request: Reader is a part of the Counsel of Tides and Kaz doesn't know and something happens where the Counsel threatens the city because of something that happened and the reader comes back to the Slat exhausted from using their power too much at once and passes out and Kaz takes care of them.

— stalker (request by: @tayrae515)

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Request: Reader having a stalker. Maybe it starts out as creepy notes the reader hides but ends up with the stalker approaching her (kidnapping or not.) and Kaz saving the reader by dealing with the stalker. Maybe it even ends with Kaz's attempt at admitting he cares about the reader.

— my head, my heart (request by: @nicole198205)

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Request: kaz brekker x reader where the reader has been struggling with like migraines or something and attempting to hide it from kaz but he eventually finds out?

— pull me closer (anon request)

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Request: maybe they are sleeping together for the first time, but not in a sexual way. like, they are cuddling for the first time after working on his touch aversion for so long?

— stay with me (anon request)

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader)

Request: reader is from The Menagerie, and Kaz is paying her in debts, as well as Inej's, and she's one of the crows, she's in love with Kaz, he's in love with her, but the something happens and she's afraid that Tante is gonna take her back to The Menagerie, and she decides to run away but then Kaz says the famous "Stay. Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me." to her.

— my demons, your fears (anon request)

↳ (Kaz Brekker x grisha! reader)

Request: kaz brekker x reader oneshot where they grew up together as neighbors but then the reader's parents died and Kaz'a family took her in and she went with him the Jordie to Ketterdam and was with Kaz helped Kaz swim out of the Reaper's Barge because she's a tidemaker. Anyway, her and Kaz used to be together but they broke up and then the reader had a nightmare about Jordie and woke up screaming and crying and Kaz comforted her and brought her to his bed to sleep for the night and in the morning she was confused why he helped her and they get back together or something, you can choose the ending.

— those eyes (request by: @yhaywhwvsh)

↳ (Kaz Brekker x reader + slight platonic! crows)

Request: Reader finishes what she wanted to do in Ketterdam (her goal) and she only stayed because of Kaz, but after that argument "You would be nothing without me, Brekker", "I saved you. Don't forget that." she leaves. She comes back to Ketterdam after the Ice court heist and all that shit and the new Crows met her?

— don’t panic, love (anon request)

↳ (Kaz Brekker x gn! reader)

Request: i was wondering if you could do a fic where Kaz or Freddy can tell the reader(gn if that's okay) is going to have a panic attack before they knew due to Kaz/Freddy seeing the signs and provides the reader with comfort and helps them calm down

— THE CROWS

— long live (anon request)

↳ (slight Kaz Brekker x reader + platonic! crows)

Request: six of crows x reader (platonic)/slight Kaz x reader based on the song "Long Live" by Taylor Swift?

— you shot me! (anon request)

↳ (platonic! crows x reader)

Request: 31. "You shot me!" "Oh, don't pretend to be surprised. It's unbecoming." So maybe some sort of just heist gone wrong but with comedic elements. Of course someone got shot but its funny right

— FREDDY CARTER

— I’ll take care of you (anon request)

↳ (freddy carter x reader)

Request: fluffy one shot of Freddy Carter taking care of the reader when she’s sick, Thank you so much ILYSM!!!

— SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

— the aftermath (trojan horse pt.2)

↳ (ghost x reader + platonic TF141)

Summary: Zero is dealing with the aftermath of their London mission. Luckily she has Simon by her side. And of course, the rest of her team.

Snippet: He grappled with disbelief. A lifetime of enduring pushbacks, hits, and abuse had etched a belief of being unlovable. Yet, here she was, loving him effortlessly, as if it were as natural as breathing.”

— ALASTOR

— bygone (series!)

↳ (human! alastor x fem! reader)

Summary: it’s fascinating how different people can be in hell from how they were back when they were alive, which is exactly why charlie decided to visit the hotel guests in their heydays.

— angelic prey (anon request)

↳ (alastor x angel! reader)

Request: We can have a yandere Alastor with an angel reader... After Charlie went to heaven, the angel reader was moved by his proposal to save the demons... So to help Charlie the reader went to the hazbin hotel... What no one counted on is that Alastor fell in love with the angel reader... Now what would happen?

— CRIMINAL MINDS

— come back to me (anon request)

↳ (spencer x reader)

Request: spencer reid x reader (preferably non bau reader) where reader goes missing and they are gone so long that they are presumed dead. And they are never found (at least not found alive)???

#banners by cafekitsune #six of crows #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows x reader #fanfiction #kaz brekker #angst #fluff #oneshot

46 notes · View notes

whatacartouchebag · 6 months ago

Text

So holy shit, just had a commenter apologise for getting excited and commenting on a bunch of my fics, thinking they were being annoying for doing it on works that were so old.

My dude, the oldest one was posted just over a YEAR ago.

Like christ on a cracker, wrapping my head around this mentality genuinely hurts. I still get the fleeting, odd comment on stuff that I posted to an FF.net account I abandoned in 2008. I'm still posting stuff to the same fandom that this commenter is reading fics from! I literally posted something within the last month!

I get that the consumerism of fanworks has taken over fandom spaces entirely. I get it, but fuck me if I detest it dearly. If something's not sitting on the front page of a tag, it's just considered dead, and I hate it.

Not to be all old man yells at cloud, but the way being a part of any sort of fandom space means playing a number game from hell these days is honestly the worst feeling. We're not in it for the numbers! We never were! The numbers are the smallest pip of serotonin on our radar compared to actual feedback and comments.

When this person first came into my inbox, and I saw a string of four of five email notifs come in to say I'd received a new comment, my dudes, I CRIED. Teared up like a bitch, because that's something that's so rare and beautiful and I've never seen it happen before. I honestly felt so blessed and warm and fuzzy. The fact this person took the time out of their day to read it and tell me the parts they liked, tell me they passed a couple of these fics onto others, just tell me a solemn thank you for writing what I do...

THAT'S WHAT I WRITE FOR.

No, I don't crave praise. No, it doesn't fill my ego.

It's about putting something out there into the void and hearing an echo finally. It's about standing up on stage and waiting for someone in the audience to make any sort of response other than cough and shuffle out the door. It's about knowing we've hit some sort of emotional response in our readers, because that's the ONLY way we know what we're doing is working. It's the ONLY way we know how to improve.

It just... it makes me so sad to know that we're only ever seen as products these days, not people. I love creating. I love being able to write, but it just hurts so much when it feels like no one else out there cares, you know?

Because that's what fandom culture is these days.

It honestly feels like no one cares, and fans are actively apologising for existing.

Like what the fuck went wrong along the way to nurture this mentality and how do we surgically remove it with a chainsaw.

#irl Cart #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #creative writing #AO3 #Cart writes #i was just so STOKED that day y'alls don't even know #and then getting that comment today just felt. hollowing.#tried to articulate and educate as best as i could at the time #but yeah #you have no idea how much it hurts unless you're a creator as well #fucking hate it here hey 🙃

22 notes · View notes

bookshelfdreams · 1 year ago

Text

aaaaah no i saw another "Izzy can't be homophobic you idiot I headcanon him as gay and anyway, he's right to hate Stede for being soft and inexperienced and rich" post send help (ik all of this has been said before and better, I just need to get it out of my system)

First of all, Izzy is a white and maybe not straight but definitely traditionally masculine man in a society where racism/sexism/homophobia/associated bigotry exist. Okay? Okay. These things exist in the ofmd universe, there's no arguing that away. It therefore stands to reason that Izzy, who grew up in that environment, harbours homophobic sentiments, because it is literally impossible to avoid that.

Detesting Stede for being effeminate and gnc is homophobia. Plain and simple. That's the core of homophobia. It's not about who someone finds attractive in their heart, it's about doing gender wrong. It's not so much about who you have sex with, but how you're doing it.

(And this is what Izzy and Calico Jack and the Badmintons and everone who ever bullied him hate about him. It's not that he's upper class. It's not that he's rich. It's this.)

Homophobia and the patriarchy go hand in hand. Under patriarchy, anything masculine is good and superior and anything feminine is weak and detestable. A good man, a proper man is defined by what he isn't (=not ever feminine), and any association with femininity is degrading. This is why Stede is called a woman (derogatory) by people who are perfectly aware he is a guy, why he's called Baby Bonnet: Both these things say You are not a real man. Does anyone who hurls abuse at him think he's gay? Who knows! It's well known he's married and has children, for fuck's sake! But it doesn't matter what's in Stede's heart, it matters how he behaves, how he speaks and carries himself, his interests, his inability to fit it.

Why do you think he's called fat when he isn't as an adult and wasn't as a child? It's the same thing, it's not logical, just a way for people to express their vague discomfort with him in the most hurtful way possible.

The way Izzy talks about him and the way the Badmintons talk about him parallel each other and that's not a coincidence. Izzy talks about Stede as having "done something" to Ed's "brain", Chauncey Badminton says he "ruined" Ed, that he's "not human" and a "monster". This is the exact violent, dehumanizing rhetoric that has forever been flung at gnc gay men, effeminacy as a corrupting, contagious influence, good upstanding manly men being seduced (hah!) into the Gay Lifestyle. You're not a person, you're a disease.

Fop and ponce may be old fashioned but they are also homophobic slurs.

Izzy doesn't detest the upper class. He has no trouble at all weaponizing his whiteness against Ed when he sends the English after him, when he attempts to buy Ed for himself with Stede's life. Izzy can fit into that world well enough to use it for his own gain as long as it will let him, and sure, he'll be crushed as soon as he's no longer useful but that doesn't stop him from aligning himself with the literal enemy, does it? That's what makes Izzy a class traitor (derogatory) btw, and why analysis that tries to paint him as "just a working class guy who hates the rich" a little silly.

("We're not bigots we are just ordinary salt-of-the-earth working class guys who hate the out of touch liberal elite and anyway, they're all perverts" hmmm, where have I heard this before?)

It's baffling to me that people watch this show and genuinely think "Izzy isn't homophobic, he just hates Stede because he's rich" is a good argument like??? Who expresses this exact sentiment in the show????

Look. I know where this comes from. I too read Izzy as queer. But queer people are perfectly capable of being homophobic towards each other.

Izzy can accept Ed having sex with men who are not him. He's fine with that, and sure, that seems to be proof that He can't be homophobic! at first glance. But, under patriarchy, not liking women sexually is - well, maybe not ideal but under certain circumstances acceptable (after all, under patriarchy, not liking women is perfectly reasonable and encouraged, so it's not a huge leap). But what is not acceptable, what needs to be violently suppressed at all costs, is men being insufficiently masculine.

Which is what Izzy detests about Stede, and what he attacks Ed for in ep10. And this is homophobia in a nutshell.

#yes okay i care too much about this whatever #but i DO want it noted that i went and made my own post instead of picking a fight #which was very brave of me. if i do say so myself #sigh. when will we be free of 'HAVE you considered that hating someone for being different is fine actually' takes #our flag means death #izzy hands #thoughts

101 notes · View notes

jodithann827 · 7 months ago

Text

He Said What?!?

Rated: General / Posted on Ao3 / @today-in-fic

Summary: What would happen if he heard something he wasn’t supposed to?

Huntsville, Alabama

December 18th, 1998

Motel 6

The slow and steady hum of the radiator vibrates across the cramped confines of the not quite dingy, but not quite pristine motel room. The sun, having set hours before and taking what little warmth the day offered with it, left the room dark, save for the two beside lights and the standard desk lamp which emits a soft glow. The sound of water gargling flows through the closed bathroom door while Assistant Director Walter Skinner sits on one bed, waiting to wash the stink of the day off. Shaking his head slowly, he thinks back to the previous morning. His commute had been a breeze, his secretary was finally back after a detestable stomach flu had held her captive the week before, the Director of the Bureau was in a relatively good mood, and all of the agents under his watch were performing as needed. Yes, it had been the perfect start to the day. Perfect until Fox Mulder barreled into his office (he really needs to put a stop to that) spouting off about alien abductions and mysterious disappearances. The day went so well until 9:48. Why he entertained Mulder’s crazy ideas is beyond his comprehension. Well, that’s not entirely true. As strange as Muder is, Skinner genuinely likes him—not that he would ever divulge that tidbit of information—and, crazy or not, Mulder has proven himself to be an exceptional agent.

As Mulder spouted and Skinner listened, removing his glasses ever so slowly and rubbing his temples at the thought of the impending headache, he thought back to the previous weeks. Weeks in which Mulder killed a man and faked his death, only to reemerge and blow one giant metaphorical hole right in the center of a government conspiracy. That’s not to mention the almost-death and then amazing recovery of Agent Scully, which Skinner still isn’t sure he understands. He’s just thankful that Agent Scully is at home recovering, and will be ready to get back to work in a matter of weeks. Unfortunately, he knew he wouldn’t have the same luck taming the beast that is Fox Mulder as Scully would.

When Mulder finally got to the point and asked Skinner to sign off on the 302, Skinner could hear Scully in the back of his head. Don’t let him go, Sir. He shouldn’t go alone, Skinner. You know what’s going to happen if I’m not there. He found himself nodding at her words, though Mulder mistook his nodding as permission granted. He profusely thanked him and, with the look of a kid on Christmas morning, mentioned something about booking the first flight out and going home to pack before Skinner realized what had transpired. So, out of respect for Agent Scully and a concern for Agent Mulder, that’s what brought him to Huntsville; a crazy X-file with an even crazier agent. Of course, Mulder’d booked the trip so quickly that the only vacant motel in the area had one room, which is how Skinner finds himself with a roommate.

The bathroom door opens, tugging Skinner from his thoughts. Mulder walks out, thankfully dressed in plaid pajama pants and an old shirt, as puffs of steam follow him.

“Bathroom’s free,” he announces, striding over to the black duffle bag placed haphazardly on the side table chair. He rummages around for a minute, then steps back and falls onto his motel bed.

“You know I could have handled this one on my own, Sir,” Mulder insists, as he had the whole plane ride to Alabama, the car ride to the local station, and again on the way to the motel. Skinner glances in his direction and makes a weak attempt to raise his eyebrow like Scully does, which Mulder of course doesn’t notice..

“Two days, Mulder. I’ll give you two days,” Skinner responds, once again shaking his head, as he gets up and departs for the bathroom.

***

Later, as they lay in their beds, not quite ready for sleep, Skinner looks up at the pale white ceiling of the motel room and sighs. “I know you could have handled this on your own, Mulder,” he admits. Even though it’s dark and he isn’t looking in his direction, he knows Mulder is smiling.

“You promised Scully you’d go with me,” Mulder half asks, half states. Skinner chuckles, or at least as much of a chuckle as he’s willing to emit in front of an agent. “I understand, sir,” Mulder assures him. “I know she worries when she can’t be there to have my back. I know I sometimes make rash decisions…” he pauses when Skinner huffs. “Okay, maybe a lot of the time. Thank you, sir, for being willing to come with me instead of denying the case. I appreciate it, and I know Scully does as well.”

“How’s she doing?” Skinner asks, carefully, as he doesn’t like to speak of agents who aren’t present.

He’s been concerned about her since her remission. She called him a week and a half after her discharge, indicating she was fine and ready to be back at work. Skinner had to bite his tongue from saying something he would regret, like Have you completely lost your mind, and then told her in no uncertain terms that she is not to grace the doors of the Hoover building for at least another four weeks, and only then with a doctor's note. She’s still so weak, physically. Even when she returns, he knows she won’t be ready to be in the field right away. He makes a mental note to check for any upcoming conferences he can send them to upon her return, maybe ease her back into work.

“She’s getting stronger every day. I’m pretty sure she kicked her sweet and well-meaning mother out of her house by the second week of her recovery,” Mulder laughs.

Skinner is amazed and wonders how the agents accomplish anything, being two of the most stubborn individuals he has ever had the pleasure of meeting.

“That’s good,” he tells him, then adds, “It’ll be good to have her back. Well, goodnight, Agent Mulder.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

***

Hours later, Skinner awakens to a sound. Unable to identify it at first, he lies motionless, straining his ears. He hears it again. After a few moments, he realizes it’s Mulder, whimpering in his sleep. Recognizing the agent is dreaming and they aren’t in imminent danger, he rolls to his side and tries to go back to sleep. As he’s about to doze off, Mulder’s whimpers become more frenzied.

“Please, no,” Skinner hears from the next bed. He raises his head a bit, checking to see if Mulder has woken up, but the man’s closed eyes and pained expression assures Skinner that he is very much asleep. Unsure of how much longer Mulder’s dream will go on, Skinner attempts to sleep, but is incapable.

“No… can’t. Please… understand,” whines Mulder. Skinner wonders what is going on in that brain of his. He’s using a voice Skinner has never heard. He sounds scared, young, unsure.

“Mm lost,” Mulder continues, and Skinner hears a hitch in his voice. He wonders if Mulder will start crying in his sleep. Maybe he’s dreaming about his sister.

“Without you,” Mulder states.

Nope, Skinner immediately knows who Mulder is thinking about, and he longs for sleep. Of course, he’s suspected it for years. But without evidence, he never wanted to make a big deal out of it. He knows there are tons of wagers and bets floating around the bureau regarding the status of Mulder and Scully’s relationship, but he usually doesn’t pay too much attention to those things.

“Need you,” Mulder's voice pulls Skinner from his thoughts. “Best friend… No die. No happen”.

Skinner realizes Mulder is thinking back to the cancer. He wants to wake him, tell him it’s all okay; Scully is fine and she’s not going anywhere. But he also doesn’t want to startle him or cause him any embarrassment, though there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about, at least not yet.

“Promise me,” he mumbles, followed by a string of gibberish from Mulder’s dream-induced mouth. “Scully… please…love you… me.” Skinner prays sleep takes him that very instant. He knows more than he needs to, more than he should. Apparently, something in Mulder’s dream has calmed him, which Skinner doesn’t care to know, nor does he want to speculate. He realizes Mulder’s breathing has evened out and he is slumbering once more.

Unfortunately, Skinner is now wide awake and can’t get his agents out of his mind. Now that he knows, even though he tells himself there really isn’t anything to know, he quickly decides not to do anything about it. Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, as much of a pain in the ass as they—well, he— can be, are his best agents and their dynamic is something not to be messed with. He rolls over again, imploring that he’ll forget every word by morning, but knowing the sounds are burned into his brain forever.

***

Skinner wakes the next morning, wishing and hoping it was a dream, but upon seeing Mulder exit the bathroom, dressed in his suit and ready for the day, he knows it was anything but.

“How did you sleep, sir?” asks Mulder, a look of complete innocence on his face.

“I never sleep as well on the road as I do at home,” Skinner replies, sitting up and stretching. The morning sun is attempting to peek through the drawn curtains. Well, now or never, Skinner thinks to himself. “Hey, Mulder,” he says, his voice strong, but slightly tentative, as if testing the waters. Mulder looks in his direction, eyebrows knit, waiting for him to speak. Oh to hell with it, he thinks. “Mulder, did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Mulder’s eyebrows reach so high they almost touch the top of his forehead as his eyes bulge from their sockets. I’ll take that as a no, Skinner muses. Mulder stares at his boss for a minute, and Skinner almost feels sorry for him seeing the terrified look of pure dread adorning his face.

“What did I, uh… did I say anything, uh…” he fumbles over his words, trying to find the right ones to ask.

Skinner smiles slightly and decides that as much fun as this could be, he’ll go easy on Mulder, just this once. “You said a few words and mumbled a bit. I’m surprised no one has mentioned it to you before. I just thought you should know.”

Lifting himself from the bed, he staggers toward the bathroom to get ready for whatever this ridiculous day has in store for him. He turns slightly to look at the younger man. They’re idiots, these agents of his, but they’re his idiots, and for now, Mulder's secret is safe with him. He’ll be ready whenever Mulder feels free enough to talk about it.

#fox mulder #dana scully #the x files fanfic #msr #walter skinner #talking in his sleep #he said what?

19 notes · View notes

luckyshouse · 3 months ago

Text

i had a large dog growing up, and it also died in a way that was extremely traumatizing to me. and then my mom immediately replaced it with another larger, more aggressive dog that ended up killing my childhood cat. i think i was really conditioned to specifically only like toys and inanimate objects (and a few other animals, like my cats or rats) because of how rampent animal abuse was in my house, but also because of how genuinely fucked up the dogs were in my house. almost all of my childhood toys have been destroyed or ripped up or pissed on by those two dogs, i would go into the backyard and find just oodles and oodles of mangled bits of my toys i heavily relied on as an autistic kid, and my parents would blame me and say it was my fault for leaving the door open, and the dog only does that because he loves me and my toys smell like me. for some reason the dog only destroyed my toys, out of all the toys in our house (household of 3 kids) and since i was old enough, my parents didn't see a reason to replace them because i was "too old for them anyways."

i really think that's whats been causing a lot of turmoil in my own understanding of myself. i've always been THE animal person in my family, not just the cat person, but i was known for liking ALL and ANY animals. and i think this is still very true. when i was first kicked out and looking for work they kept suggesting that i try to get a job with animals, which started all of the inner fighting because i couldn't figure out why i really detested the idea.

i think i'm learning that despite being an animal person from a distance, a lot of my feeling towards animals are actually rather negative, because i'm always viewing them through if their pet care is good enough, and hyper obsessing over their body language to make sure theyre comfortable and happy.

toys on the other hand have never done me wrong. they were my equals and my best friends, and they were being hurt as much as i was growing up. while i was being hurt by my parents, my toys were being ripped up or maulled or thrown away or disregarded as childish and stupid. and i think i developed a lot of really strong kinship with the idea of toys and inanimate objects. can't help being a physically disabled autistic person i guess.

#animal death //#pet death //#pet abuse //#animal abuse //#just trying to broadly catch everything #ive been thinking about it a lot recently.

14 notes · View notes

namig42 · 6 months ago

Text

Hello there, I finally finished the first part of a Wyllstarion fic I started writing ages ago. Please enjoy.

Just One Yesterday (Ch. 1)

Next Chapter >

Read it on Ao3 as well!

Summary: Originally inspired by the lyric "anything you say can and will be held against you, so only say my name. It will be held against you," from Fall Out Boy's song "Just One Yesterday."

This is a modern AU where Wyll is a police officer and Astarion is a sex worker. Despite a problematic start, the two manage to find a connection and have it build in time into something more.

---

Wyll Ravengard was a young rookie on the police force of Baldur City. He's been working the scene for a few years now, but has yet to feel like he has made any real difference. Part of that is due to his chief, Mizora, who makes a point of sending Wyll to do all the more unsavory jobs that are passed down directly from her own boss, Zariel. Early on in his time on the force, Wyll was optimistic and very loyal to the people of the city. Mizora saw this and used it against Wyll, leading him down a dark path of less than legal actions that Wyll now cannot afford anyone knowing. In exchange for her silence, Mizora has now made Wyll her personal pet. She sends him on secret missions to chase down certain felons, detain criminals of seemingly victimless crimes, and on one occasion, even taking the life of someone before things could get out of hand with a case. Wyll detests his career now because of Mizora, but if he stepped out of her shadow, the things that he's done would solely be on his head and he would be seen as the villain, not the hero. For now, he grins and bears his duty, telling himself that at least he can still help people while also serving Mizora’s means.

On this evening in particular, Wyll was sent on a mission to detain some of the countless streetwalkers that have been reported downtown. One too many problematic incidents have taken place with some higher ups in the city, and Zariel has decided that the field needed to be weeded out. Mizora had left this job to Wyll, deeming it unfit for the rest of the force to be seen doing these jobs since it would bring awareness to the drama happening with those problematic higher ups she was supposed to be protecting. Wyll was expected to go undercover for this case and arrest anyone who approached him offering a service without making a scene.

And that is exactly what he planned for, though he already felt a wave of guilt and anxiety at the notion that he needed to allow himself to be seduced and lured. When it came to exploits of lust and love, Wyll was a traditional romantic. He was genuine and authentic and wasn’t interested in acts solely of the flesh. Whether Mizora knew that and decided she wanted to watch Wyll suffer or not or was simply unaware, Wyll still had to deliver on the mission. One step at a time , he thought to himself as he made his way downtown for the evening.

Wyll was dressed in some worn jeans and a burgundy henley that he'd owned since his teenage years. It was an old shirt that was a little tight now, but it still got the job done. He looked like a regular guy out for a late night stroll near the downtown park, as if he was on his way to a bar to meet some friends or play some pool. Just a normal person. That’s all he had to be for now, but Wyll knew that he was anything but a normal guy with casual plans, and it made the guilt surge through his body all the more, leaving his hands clammy and his mouth dry.

His intel had told him that this park was a common spot for a certain gang that was known for its promiscuous services. They were a group of beautiful, pale people that often stalked in groups of two or three, luring people away with their charm and promises of a good time according to the reports. Sometimes the victims came back with empty wallets, but more often, they were never seen again. If Wyll walked around enough, he was likely to find a target or two to detain.

Wyll was feeling nervous about this whole endeavor. He hadn't ever had a job like this before, and he wasn't known for being the best liar. Omitting information, sure, that was understandable, but pure deception? That was something he was afraid of screwing up immediately. He had never had a knack for it, and his father taught him that honesty was the truest way to justice. He had hammered that notion into his son, leaving Wyll without the skillset he needed for this scenario. Wyll knew how much his father would disapprove of him these past few years, but he couldn’t bear to tell his father the truth. His father, Uldur Ravengaurd, the pinnacle example of honor and justice, would arrest his own son on the spot if he knew the terrible things Wyll had done for Mizora, even if Wyll has always tried to mean well and do these heinous jobs on his own terms.

It was as he was thinking about his father and the dread that filled his stomach that Wyll spotted a group of three people standing in the main square of the park, leaning on a fountain and surrounded by street lamps emitting a soft white glow. There were two women and one man, and they were all extremely attractive and fair-skinned. All three were dressed in attire that seemed more fitting for a nightclub rather than a night in the park, fitted with tight pants that left little to the imagination, skin tight tops, and their hair pulled away from their faces. Both women had their hair pulled back in a bun with lips painted ruby red, and the man’s curly hair was short and sculpted to frame his handsome face.

He was still feeling nervous, so instead of approaching the group, Wyll leaned himself against a nearby fence and glanced at the group every now and then. He noticed that the group of three began to stare back and began whispering amongst themselves. Wyll looked down at the ground and tried to calm his nerves as he felt the eyes of the beautiful strangers piercing him. After a moment of pointing and the small sound of soft voices, the handsome man with white, curly locks approached him.

"Well hello there darling~." The man approached Wyll from the side and casually leaned against the fence. His voice was low and dripped with sex. Wyll had to swallow before looking into the man's red eyes. "Whatever is a dashing thing like you doing in a place like this~?"

"Just out for a late night stroll.” Wyll choked out, sounding fine enough but feeling somehow even more nervous under the predatory gaze of this handsome stranger. “Lovely night, isn't it?" Wyll looked up and gestured to the full moon that sat directly above the two of them. Wyll hadn't noticed it before, but now that he saw the pale glow of moonlight, he realized the color was very similar to the man's hair. It was a lovely color… Wyll began to wonder if the stranger’s hair was naturally that silver.

"A lovely night indeed," the man said, his eyes not moving from Wyll’s face. "What's to say we make it an even better one?"

Wyll made eye contact again before asking, "what do you mean?" He had a feeling he knew, but he didn't want to mess this up and blow his cover so quickly.

"I know a charming little spot not too far from here. Perhaps we could steal away for a bit and… get to enjoy each other's company?" As he spoke those last words, the man's fingers gently grazed the back of Wyll's hand. Wyll wanted to recoil as if he had been electrocuted, but he resisted the urge. This was definitely a target he was supposed to take back to the station. He needed to get this beautiful man alone first, that way the other two in his group wouldn't immediately be on high alert.

Though he was tense, Wyll managed a soft, polite smile. "Lead the way."

The man with the hair like moonlight smiled devilishly before gently taking Wyll's hand and leading him deeper into the park. As they walked in the night air, Wyll got a better look at the man he was about to arrest. They were about the same height, though Wyll's frame looked a bit stronger and more filled out than his newfound companion. The other man was a bit thin and gaunt, as if he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in a while. His skin was almost as pale as his hair, and his eyes were a bright red. Wyll wondered if they were contacts. The silver-haired man wore tight leather pants and a leather jacket with only a top made of fishnets underneath. His nails were painted black, though they looked a bit chipped, almost as if they had been bitten slightly. Wyll looked at the back of the stranger’s head and saw just how soft the man’s curls looked. The front of the man’s hair had looked polished and styled, though the back looked as if the curls had been left in their natural state.

Wyll pondered this mysterious man, but quickly tried to block out the thoughts. He couldn't let himself get distracted or attached. The more he humanized his target, the harder it would be to do his job. A job like this was hard for Wyll to justify for himself already. After all, sex workers weren't offering any services that harmed others. Though it isn't the most honorable line of work, he didn't think that they deserved to be arrested for providing the services they did, especially if they were being pressured by a boss of their own. Wyll could relate a bit with his own predicament, but he shoved that thought right out just as fast as it came into his mind. If he felt himself relating to a hypothetical, he’d have an even harder time following through on the job he was supposed to do. It didn't matter though what he thought in all of this. Mizora told him to do his job, and so his job had to be done. If not… it may not even be worth going back to the station.

After a few moments of strolling in silence, the man led Wyll through a shrub and entered a small clearing near the edge of the park where a little shack was stowed away. It didn't look like more than a storage shed, but that didn't seem to matter. The mysterious stranger led Wyll with that same gentle grip through the door and into the small building. Inside was a bit dusty and barren, save for a few large crates in one corner and a mattress on the ground on the other side of the space. A bit of the pale moonlight seeped into the room from the small windows that lined the tops of the walls along with the remnant glows from nearby street lights, just like the ones back in the main square. Besides that, the room was quite dim.

"Well now, we should introduce ourselves properly before getting down to business, hm~?” The stranger dropped Wyll’s hand and turned to face his client. With a dramatic flourish of one hand and the other on his hip, he introduced himself. “My name is Astarion."

Astarion, little star. A lovely name fit for a gentleman of the night. Gods, it rolled off the tongue so well. Was that his real name, or one he simply used for this line of work? Either way, it was beautiful.

Wyll was still a bit frazzled as Astarion stared at him with that hand on his hip. He leaned to the side so casually and gracefully, as if he was posing for a piece of art. It was incredibly alluring. Wyll could feel himself falling into the trap that he was sure many others did as well at the hands of this mysterious man. Astarion gestured to him with a relaxed flourish and asked, "what should I call you, darling?"

The way he spoke was like music. He was so captivating, Wyll lost himself almost entirely for a moment, wanting to drop the mission and be engulfed by this stranger of the night. He had a false name that he had planned to utilize for this mission, but before he could even think about it, his mind slipped and he simply said, "Wyll."

"Wyll," Astarion said in that theatrical tone of his. Wyll took a small gulp after hearing his name on Astarion’s lips. "A fitting name for a proper gentleman." Astarion began to step a little closer to Wyll. Wyll took a step back, but after only one step, he felt his back press against the cold brick wall behind him. "It's funny, most people are upon me before we even reach this spot. I appreciate someone with manners and decency. No need to be afraid though…" Astarion began to enter Wyll's space even more, trailing a finger up Wyll’s chest, then his neck, and then his jawline. Wyll could feel the other man's cool breath on his face as the mysterious man leaned in a bit closer. Just as Wyll tightly shut his eyes and thought he was about to be kissed, Astarion leaned into Wyll's ear instead and whispered seductively, "I won't bite."

Wyll had never been with anyone in this capacity before. Yes, he had had sex. He was a young man in his mid 20’s, after all, but that was less about sex and more about making love. There were the few girls he dated seriously in his past and a couple handsome men he fancied, though never approached or engaged with. The women were all lovely at first, but the sex had been mediocre at best. Eventually, they all left Wyll because apparently he wasn’t exciting enough for them. Everyone loved a hopeless romantic until the novelty of chivalry wore off, and they ended up bored and uninterested. They loved the fantasy it seemed, not Wyll Ravenguard. In regards to men, Wyll had never allowed himself to pursue another man before. The culture he grew up in didn’t shame the idea of homosexuality, but Wyll had this feeling that if he didn’t do things traditionally, then his father would’ve resented him, but that was a tale for another time.

The point was that in all his escapades, nothing had ever been like this. All his other experiences had been so tame, so simple and focused on romance with people Wyll had tried to establish a connection with. Already though, just the way Astarion moved and spoke, it was enough to excite Wyll and send a flush to his dark cheeks. This wasn’t romance. This was lust. Pure, intoxicating desire filled Wyll’s mind, and it was beginning to be too much.

As Astarion’s mouth began kissing down Wyll’s neck, Wyll decided he needed to stop this before things got out of hand. He already felt himself slipping away from control, and there was a part of him that felt… scared? Empty? He couldn’t be sure why, but it was likely due to how unfamiliar this situation had been for him. He grabbed Astarion by the wrist and flipped the man around so that it was Astarion against the wall instead of Wyll, though it was Astarion's front instead of back being pressed against the wall this time. Astarion’s arm was pinned behind him in Wyll’s strong grip, holding the pale man stiffly in place.

"Well, aren't you a cheeky thing~?” Astarion said coyly. “You really know how to lower a man's guard. I didn’t take you for the forceful type.” Though he spoke with that same theatrical style, there was a small anxious tone that entered his melodious voice. Wyll didn’t like how that new tone made him feel, but he shoved the unease to the side of his mind to think about later.

"You're under arrest," Wyll spoke firmly, regaining his composure and sense of duty. Astarion sighed, sounding more annoyed and disappointed than worried. "Of course, the handsome ones are always too good to be true…"

Wyll tried to ignore that comment as he continued. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you-"

"’Anything,’ you say?" Astarion interrupted, that playful coyness coming back to him. Wyll paused in the middle of his speech, taken aback by Astarion’s interjection. What kind of question was that?

"What if I were to only say your name~?" The tone of voice filled with sex came back as Astarion asked the question. He moved his hips back and grazed Wyll's front with his ass, grinding ever so gently on the officer. Wyll jumped back, beginning to lose his composure again at the prospect of what was just said. Astarion took the opportunity of freedom to turn himself around and step away from the wall, leaning towards Wyll and giving him that same devilish grin from earlier. Wyll hated to admit how well it was working.

"Wyll, would you hold yourself against me this evening~?" Astarion asked the seductive question with such ease, as if it wasn’t the first time he had said those words. Wyll noticed now that Astarion’s actions were so perfect in this moment, as if he was performing in some kind of film. Every action and word was so perfectly alluring and so flawlessly executed, as if he had performed this scene a million times. Wyll, not knowing the script that Astarion was working with, took a step back once more and felt himself lean against one of the larger crates on the other side of the shed. His hands moved back to grip the edge and support himself as Astarion stepped closer and moved into his space once again. The pale man put one hand on the crate behind Wyll, leaning into the younger man and using his other hand to gently caress Wyll's chin. With the most tender of touches, Astarion pulled the officer in for a kiss.

As much as Wyll should’ve resisted, he allowed himself to be kissed. His hands dug into the wood of the crate as he felt the erotic sensation course through his body. The soft, cool feeling on his lips felt like a shock, sending waves of strange, terrifying pleasure through him and down to his lower half. He had never kissed a man before, and no other kiss had ever felt like this. Though it wasn’t all that different from kissing a woman, this scenario felt more exciting and terrifying than anything he had ever felt. The charming stranger seduced him so effortlessly. Perhaps Wyll was weak, maybe even a bit lonely, but he allowed himself to be swept off his feet for a moment. Astarion pressed his body against the cop’s, using the hand that wasn’t supporting himself on the crate to move gently down Wyll’s side and to his lower back, pulling the young officer even closer. He could feel Wyll’s excitement starting to build in his jeans, and Wyll even heard a moan escape his own lips as he felt Astarion’s cold body press against his.

Astarion broke the kiss and moved to whisper Wyll’s name in his ear again, this time a bit softer and filled with quiet desire, as his hand trailed down Wyll’s side once more and moved to the front of his pants. At the sensation of being palmed, Wyll inhaled sharply and his whole body jolted. In his panic, he grabbed Astarion’s wrist that had just grazed his front and pulled it to the side, gripping it tight. Astarion made a small, pained noise as Wyll tried that same flip again, though Astarion was better prepared and resisted this time around. He pulled his arm towards his chest so Wyll couldn’t twist him around as easily. Instead, Wyll used his leg and hooked it behind Astarion’s ankle, sending the pale man falling onto the mattress behind him. Wyll quickly flipped Astarion over while the man was still surprised and sat firmly on Astarion’s lower back, that way he couldn’t flip over again. Now that he had the advantage once more, Wyll didn’t hesitate to pull out his handcuffs that were stashed in his back pocket and begin cuffing his newfound companion.

“Wait, please!” The cool, seductive confidence had left Astarion’s voice. Wyll did pause, surprised by the quick change of tone. He kept his grip tight on Astarion’s wrist, but had only cuffed one hand so far. The pause didn’t last long though as Wyll regained his sense of duty and began cuffing the other wrist. Astarion’s breathing began to quicken, almost like a cornered animal. “I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll do anything, just please don’t take me away.” He was panicked, but there was still some sense of composure behind his words.

“You’ve committed solicitation of sexual acts and prostitution. As an officer of the law, it is my duty to take you in.”

Astarion wriggled under Wyll, the sensation of his squirming body sending a guilty wave of pleasure through Wyll as the friction in his pants rubbed against him, but Wyll held out strong. As he tried to break free, a thought clicked in Astarion’s mind and he went still under Wyll. “What evidence do you have?”

Wyll froze. “I’m sorry?”

“What evidence do you have that I have charged money for sex?”

Wyll opened his mouth to speak, but then realized that he had none, not officially anyway. All his assumptions this evening have been based on the intel he received from Mizora, but he had no actual proof that Astarion was one of the members of the group he came to this park looking for. Though he made a slew of incriminating remarks, there was nothing that would work as evidence in a court of law to accuse Astarion of prostitution. All he had as of now was speculation and conjecture. As Wyll pondered this new set of circumstances, Astarion continued, “all I’ve done is offer a bit of fun, which you consented to. The only crime I’m guilty of is being a whore, but there’s nothing illegal in what I’ve done tonight.”

Wyll sat there, still holding Astarion’s wrists in place and pinning him against the mattress, though his grip began to soften. God, did he already screw this job up? He didn’t even think to try to get evidence. He was so inexperienced with work like this, with interactions like these, he hadn’t even thought past allowing someone to lure him to a secluded area. After that, his plans fizzled out. God… I’m such a fool.

He didn’t confirm or deny Astarion’s accusations, but he did move to uncuff Astarion. Once he was free, Wyll rolled off of Astarion and to the side. Astarion moved to his knees and stretched his back, then rubbed his wrists where the cuffs had dug in and left faint, red lines on his fair skin.

“I’m sorry,” was all the rookie could muster up, pulling his knees to his chest.

“Oh, no need to apologize. I’ve been handled much rougher than that.” There was a lingering, awkward silence that thankfully Astarion broke quickly. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” The question was sincere and non-judgemental. The bluntness of it turned Wyll’s face a new color that he didn’t even know he was capable of.

“No!” he said, a bit louder than he intended.

“I see,” Astarion said dismissively, turning and sitting back against the wall to face Wyll as he continued his questioning, “but I take it you’ve only been with women?” The flush that burned Wyll’s face only got deeper at the accusation, but he couldn’t deny it. He turned and buried his face in his knees. “Is it that obvious…?”

Astarion giggled. It sounded so light and playful, ringing in Wyll’s head afterwards. That may have been the first sound that Wyll heard from Astarion all evening that didn’t sound so rehearsed. “You’re not as subtle as you may think, officer.” Astarion moved his foot and nudged Wyll’s leg with it. Wyll’s face immediately lifted from his knees and turned to look at Astarion, who had another smirk on those lovely lips of his, though this time, it seemed a bit more relaxed. His eyes were softer, and there was a sense of desire in them this time that seemed more genuine than before. Would he still want an inexperienced fool like Wyll after all that?

“Would you still like to hold yourself against me this evening, Wyll?” Astarion asked, a new, softer, more genuine tone appearing in his voice. There was a bit of exhaustion and sincerity that was now apparent on his face as well.

“I… I don’t know…” Wyll said, the nerves returning. He had to turn his eyes away from Astarion’s face again. The nerves were coming back, and he still had a job to do. He couldn’t do something like this. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. Astarion was incredibly attractive, that wasn’t the problem, but there was a hollow feeling in his stomach, one that left him nervous and worried. What would Mizora do to him if he didn’t come back with at least one arrest tonight? Would he be committing a felony if he slept with Astarion, even if he technically didn’t have any solid evidence against him that proved he was a prostitute? Why would Astarion want to spend the night with an officer anyways?

As the questions ran wild in Wyll’s mind, Astarion nudged Wyll’s leg again to get his attention. Once Wyll finally met his gaze again, Astarion asked, “what would you like then, darling?”

Wyll stared at the man of the night blankly. Astarion had a soft, exhausted expression that resonated with something in Wyll. He had thought of Astarion as handsome and alluring all evening, but that soft expression was something that he could only describe as beautiful.

“Maybe, for now… we could just… talk?” Wyll said, his voice shrinking in embarrassment. Thankfully, Astarion didn’t seem put off by the suggestion. Instead, he moved to lie down on the mattress and stretch out his legs. “Alright, we can talk. Did you have a topic for discussion in mind?”

“Well… can I ask why you invited me to this place?” Wyll asked, not comfortable enough to lie down. He remained in his fetal position towards the foot of the mattress.

Astarion sighed, “well, to have a little bit of fun, obviously. I thought that was fairly clear.”

“Well, yes, but… why me? Why didn’t one of those other women you were with invite me somewhere instead?”

“Well,” Astarion began, rolling on his side and resting his head on his hand to get a better look at Wyll. “I thought you were adorable, sitting and showing interest while nervously dodging our stares. You’re a handsome young man, you know.” Wyll blushed at the compliment, averting his gaze again. He had never had the chance to flirt with another man before, and Astarion had so much experience that left Wyll feeling like a babe in the woods. Astarion was amused by Wyll’s darkened cheek, then posed a question of his own. “Did you not intend on having a bit of fun this evening? Were you simply a good officer trying to do your job?”

“It’s… complicated, but yes, I was out here solely for work.” There was no point in trying to be coy about it. He had already tried to arrest Astarion, so he already blew his cover.

“Well, darling, in the future, if you’re scouting for workers of certain occupations, might I suggest trying to pay them first or requesting their rate?”

“Yes… I didn’t… think about the details before jumping into this…”

Astarion scoffed playfully. “Clearly.”

Wyll wanted to curl in on himself in embarrassment and his lack of experience. Astarion saw the reaction and only felt moderately guilty. He rolled onto his back once more and decided to be courteous enough to change the subject. “Well, what do you enjoy doing in your free time then, Officer Wyll?”

“I enjoy reading…” Wyll couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious about his hobby, but the new topic relaxed him a bit. His shoulders softened and his knees relaxed away from his chest a bit.

“I do as well,” Astarion admitted. Wyll was a bit surprised, honestly. Astarion continued the conversation. “What do you like to read?”

“Stories of fantasy and… romance, mainly.”

“Of course you’re a romantic,” Astarion said with a tone of pseudo judgment, unsurprised by Wyll’s taste.

“And what’s so wrong with that?” Wyll asked with a curious grin, turning his body to face Astarion a bit better.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” Astarion said with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “It’s just so predictable that someone as polite as you would be a hopeless romantic. Let me guess,” Astarion turned on his side again and began to gesticulate even more as he proposed his theory of Wyll. “You love a good fantastical story where a vigilante of justice comes in and saves a poor heroine, and the two of them fall deeply and madly in love and live happily ever after?”

“And if I did?” Wyll said, managing to regain some composure and enjoying the turn of conversation. It wasn’t the first time he had been teased for his taste, though he had to admit, it was more fun coming from Astarion. Astarion scoffed and fell on his back again, waving his hand above his face and dismissing the comment. “It just means you’re horribly predictable, but there’s no shame in that, darling~.” The last statement had that playful snarkiness return, and it put a smile on Wyll’s face.

“Alright, then what do you like to read, Astarion?”

“Oh, nothing in particular. Fiction, non-fiction, histories, whatever I can get my hands on, really.”

“Well, what kind of stories are you fond of? I take it you’re not one for romance?”

“I don’t mind a good deal of romance,” Astarion said, a bit offended, “but I much rather prefer stories of adventurers, revenge, and deception. They are much more interesting reads, if you ask me.”

The two continued on like this for hours, talking about stories that they were fond of and wanted to share. Wyll even admitted to his appreciation for more promiscuous types of fiction, and Astarion was impressed that Wyll managed to even quote one particularly bad erotica that they had both happened to read at one point in their youths. As the conversation continued, Wyll felt more and more comfortable around the beautiful stranger. He wasn’t comfortable enough to lie down, but he did move to rest against the wall at the head of the bed, sitting right next to Astarion’s face and watching the man’s dramatic expressions as he talked about one of his favorite stories, The Count of Candlekeep . It was the story of a man who was falsely arrested after being accused by four other men and forced into prison for over twenty years. During that time, he met a wise man and learned about a hidden treasure that, after escaping the prison, he found and made his own. Soon, he became one of the richest men in the world, and through the power he gained for himself, he was able to get terrible, gruesome, satisfying revenge on all four of the men who had betrayed him. As Wyll watched Astarion passionately recount the tale, he couldn’t help but admire him. The smile that appeared as Astarion talked about the Count and how fascinating his character is, the way his brow creased slightly as he recounted more intense scenes, the way his hair fell to the side on the bed and slowly became a bit messier throughout the evening as the mattress ruffled it. He really was handsome, but he seemed to grow more alive as the night continued, and it captivated Wyll immensely.

“Of course there’s romance involved as well, and it’s incredibly well written, but there’s so much more to the story than just that. I can’t believe you’ve never even heard of the book, but you can quote The Salty Mermaid .”

Wyll shrugged. “It never came up in my father’s library, it seems.”

“Well, your father should develop better tastes.” Astarion said, waving his hand dismissively. Wyll laughed and responded, “perhaps you’re right.”

The two sat in a moment of silence for the first time in a while, though this time, it was comfortable. Astarion lay next to Wyll with his eyes closed. He looked so serene. Wyll couldn’t help but stare and take in the delicate yet chiseled features of his companion’s face. His soft, delicate white lashes, his strong, lovely nose, those soft, slightly thin lips… He was truly a vision. Wyll was tempted to reach out and place a hand on Astarion’s head, maybe even petting him and feeling how soft his curls really were, but he resisted the urge. He didn’t want to be too forward.

After sitting in the silence for who knows how long, Astarion yawned and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. “Do you happen to have the time, darling?” Wyll looked at his watch and saw that it was already past three in the morning. Upon hearing the time, Astarion’s eyes shot open and he shot straight up. “Is everything alright…?” Wyll asked, concerned by the sudden shift in Astarion’s demeanor.

“Yes, of course, I simply lost track of the time is all. It’s quite late and I should be getting home,” he then turned and gave Wyll a concerningly serious stare. “As should you.”

“I suppose so… but what’s wrong?” Wyll asked, genuinely worried now. He reached out and placed his hand softly on Astarion’s shoulder. Astarion jolted away from the touch and stood up from the mattress. “It’s nothing… “ he said, brushing off his leather pants. “I just think that it’s late and you should be on your way. You’d be much more comfortable in your own bed, surely.”

“Well, yes, but are you alright?” Wyll asked as he stared up from where he sat.

“Of course I am!” Astarion turned to face Wyll, but that rehearsed feeling returned to his demeanor. His voice lilted in a way like it did when they first made their way to this shed, and Wyll felt a bit nervous. He stood up as well, brushing dust off his backside and looking at Astarion with what must’ve been visible concern. “Wyll, darling, I’m perfectly alright~. I just don’t want a young, handsome thing such as yourself losing out on your much needed beauty sleep. How do you think I kept this face as charming as it is all these years~?”

“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” Wyll asked. He couldn’t imagine what he had done, but he had an even harder time understanding Astarion’s new urgency.

“Darling, of course not,” he sighed and placed a hand on Wyll’s arm, and this time, Wyll enjoyed the touch. There was a warmth to the sensation that had been missing earlier. “You’ve been the perfect gentleman all evening. Well… besides our little wrestling match, of course.” Astarion said with a small giggle and a smile that seemed a little too perfect. “It’s just… well…” Astarion paused for a long moment, then finally managed to continue. “You failed in your mission this evening, and so I think it’s only fair that I fail in mine as well.”

“Fail? What mission? What do you mean? Are you in danger?” Wyll asked, a sense of urgency rising in his own throat. Astarion shook his head and made his way over to the door. “No, nothing like that, I’ll be alright.” From the way he spoke, Wyll had a strong suspicion that this new companion of his was lying. Astarion turned his gaze to the door and opened it for his guest, then motioned and smiled at Wyll. “You should go.”

Wyll walked slowly to the door, standing in the doorway for a moment and staring at Astarion. The man with the silver hair couldn’t bear to make eye contact with Wyll, it seemed, but managed to speak. “It’s been a pleasure spending an evening with you, Wyll.”

“The pleasure’s been mine. Perhaps… it doesn’t have to be the only evening we spend together?” This seemed to catch Astarion’s attention. The pale gentleman looked at Wyll’s expression and saw that the young man seemed sincere. There was a softness in his face that made Astarion freeze for a moment. Though he was concerned, Wyll was pleasantly surprised to see Astarion fumble for the first time all evening.

“I’m… not sure if that’s the best idea…” Astarion said tensely.

“Well, I won’t force you, of course, but I’d like to enjoy your company more, if you’d permit me.” Wyll grazed the back of Astarion’s hand with a finger, and Astarion seemed surprised. Instead of running away from the touch, Astarion turned his hand and let Wyll hold his with a soft grip. He sighed, “Wyll, I don’t think it’s a wise decision for us to associate further.”

“Well… could I ask why?”

“My… occupation. It involves certain people that… I don’t like them knowing who I associate with, and I’m afraid if we spend any more time together, they might become curious.”

“Are they often that nosey in your personal affairs?” Wyll asked with a small hint of disbelief.

“You have no idea. ” Astarion said with a deep sigh. Wyll squeezed his hand and offered him a smile. “Well, if I did happen to want to search out your company again, is there a way I could find you?”

Astarion cocked his head to the side and looked at Wyll with admiration and frustration. “You won’t leave me alone, will you?”

“I will if you want me to,” Wyll responded.

Astarion stood for a moment and looked at their entwined hands. After what seemed like a long moment of heavy contemplation, he met Wyll’s gaze. “There’s a bar near the park. It’s called the Elfsong. I tend to spend my Saturday evenings there starting at dusk. If you’d like to search out my company again, then I’d suggest there. For now,” he released Wyll’s hand and motioned to the open door again, “I believe this is where we should say goodnight.”

Wyll sighed and nodded reluctantly. “The Elfsong at dusk, I’ll keep it in mind. Have a good evening, Astarion.” He stood for a moment, wondering if he should offer a handshake or even a hug before leaving. Instead, Astarion leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Wyll’s eyes opened a bit wider as he stared at Astarion, who was now smiling nervously. “Good night, Officer Wyll.”

With that, Wyll stepped outside the shed and Astarion closed the door behind him. He stood there for a moment and touched his cheek where Astarion had kissed him. It wasn’t like the kisses they exchanged earlier in the evening. This one left a sensation not of nervous electricity, but of something pleasant and ethereal. There was a warmth that lingered on his skin. Wyll never recalled kisses from his girlfriends ever feeling like this. It was something special.

As he began to exit the park the way he came, he had a feeling of something watching him. The feeling made Wyll nervous, but he did his best to maintain his composure and walk just a bit faster than he usually would. It was a Sunday, so if Wyll was lucky, he would get to see Astarion next Saturday. That’s if Mizora or this gnawing sensation of being watched didn’t get him first.

---

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

#wyllstarion #astarion x wyll #bg3 #fanfic #astarion #wyll ravengard #demisexual #modern au #police #sex worker #writing #long post #mizora #ulder ravengard #mine #just one yesterday

17 notes · View notes

hikari-drkspc · 2 years ago

Text

↬ general yandere! stanley headcanon

character: stanley snyder [dr. stone]

warning: yandere, mentions of m0rder, mentions of viol3nc3 ; MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, PUT YOUR AGE IN BIO/PINNED POST TO INTERACT

words: 698

a/n: this is a repost from my main blog (@/hikari-writes) so yes this writing is old + bad, i just moved them here w/o editing bc im lazy and wants to keep reminding myself how bad my writing used to be <3

➳ Stanley would definitely be the more possessive type of yandere if anything.

➳ He’s the type of guy that doesn’t take no for an answer, so you will be his no matter what.

➳ His obsession would start as a simple attraction towards you. He just finds you amusing to a degree and he likes interacting with you.

➳ As he found himself falling more and more in love with you, his desires to keep you all to himself grow alongside his feelings.

➳ Which is never a good thing to happen, by the way.

➳ You should definitely expect him to remind you of who you belong to constantly, even to the point of suffocating you.

➳ I’d say he’s one of the most extremely dangerous yandere in the Dr. Stone universe. Not only because he won’t hesitate to kill anyone that he detests, but also because there’s a chance for you to be one of them too.

➳ Stanley has lived his life as a military officer and I’m betting he has never experienced love before, therefore making his understanding of it to be extremely twisted.

➳ He expects you to obey him, and if you don’t, well, let’s not talk about the consequences.

➳ As I said before, I somehow imagine Stanley to consider the choice to kill you, even though it’s a rare occasion for yanderes to kill their darlings and the most they would do is to break them to the point of no return.

➳ Although, for him to actually consider this decision, you must have pushed him a tiny bit too far.

➳ He thought that maybe as a corpse, you’d be more obedient to him and won’t question his love.

➳ But enough talking about him killing his darling, let’s talk about how he’d act around you.

➳ He’s not a fan of PDA but he still occasionally does so just to show the others that you belong to him. It wasn’t even done out of true affection for you. He just did that to assert dominance.

➳ When you two are alone, he would have you sit down beside him and let him rest his head on your lap after completing whatever task Xeno had given him.

➳ He’s a manipulative and calculating type of yandere and would fabricate a lot of lies in order to make you stay with him.

➳ He’s not a delusional yandere, but his limited understanding and knowledge of love made him not quite realize what he’s doing is wrong.

➳ Actually, even if he knew, he won’t actually stop his behaviour.

➳ His way of showing his affection is by playing with your hair. Whenever he rests his head on your lap, he would twirl some of your strands of hair and kiss it.

➳ He’s a very blunt and straightforward guy so he constantly would tell you how beautiful you are. He won’t actually shower you with lots of praises every single minute or anything, so he makes sure his compliments sounded as genuine as possible.

➳ He won’t hesitate to kill or at the very least, break a bone or two, of anyone who does as much as stare at you.

➳ He’d be so disgusted by them. You’re not at fault for being so beautiful. No, of course you’re not at fault. It’s those filthy pigs’ faults for not understanding their damn place and even thinks of getting their hands on you.

➳ Stanley won’t hesitate to kill anyone or everyone but he has made Xeno an exception. Not because he felt indebted to him for whatever reason that makes him work for the scientist nor is it because he considers Xeno to be his friend. Rather, it’s because it would be extremely inconvenient to live in the Stone World without the aid of a genius such as himself. Even with all that has been said and done, he still loves you albeit a little too twisted. He doesn’t wish for you to live in the wilderness anytime soon.

➳ He can show his undying affection for you, but only under one condition and that being you not opposing him in any way possible. All you need to do is just humor him and you will be safe from the clutches of Death.

#yandere #tw: yandere #dr stone #dr stone yandere #dr stone x reader #dr stone yandere x reader #stanley snyder #dr stone stanley #dr stone stanley x reader #dr stone yandere stanley

111 notes · View notes

jess-moloney-malarkey · 9 months ago

Note

Based on what we see on social media, do you think Jamie is different? Is there something happening to him? What is your opinion? (he's not being genuine… he doesn't seem happy… reserved.. he's far from his fans.. I see that)

Me, personally? I truly don’t see anything worrisome in my opinion. Historically, he’s had periods of quiet on his social media, that’s not new or out of character. I mean if you scroll back on his Instagram, he took like a year off from posting, he went from June 2019 to October 2020 without posting anything. He doesn’t look unwell or sad from what I can tell. He doesn’t look much different aside from having shaved the beard for ST5. He doesn’t smile all the time in photos in general, so that’s not concerning. He’s got a lot more followers on his socials now than he did before ST, and also detests Elon Musk/Twitter/X, so interacting with fans is probably more difficult online.

I don’t know. I just think he’s getting older. Things change, people change, people slow down. To me, he seems like a 35 year old man settling into himself after years of working on it. He seems unconcerned about what people think of him and he’s content to do what he pleases in his art and life.

#jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #jess moloney #asks i obviously sent myself :)

11 notes · View notes

basketprutas · 1 year ago

Text

WHAT IF? ✧*。

We were meant to be?

Characters: Businessman!Childe & fem reader

Genre: arranged marriage, angst to comfort. Set in an alternate universe

Notes: Second post, lets go (ᵔ◡ᵔ) I've been on a roll, and I've been motivated to write a lot for some reason. Let me know what you think by sending something to my inbox!

No song to recommend except speak now (Taylor's version) because that's all I played while writing this (though I do recommend Castles Crumbling)

I recently started writing again; click here to learn more about me ^-^

Being married to a successful businessman such as Tartaglia would be a dream for others, but it felt like a nightmare for you.

You’d spent little to no time with one another, always passing by each other when the both of you would leave for work. In the same house that never felt like home.

He was dismissive of this whole ordeal; he clearly disliked the thought of an arranged marriage, but you weren’t sure if it was the idea of it or the fact that it was you who he got married to.

Were you unattractive in his eyes? Is he detested to be with someone like you? Sure he may have had a long line of women waiting for him, but you considered yourself to be at least presentable.

Now you spend your days alone, despite having everything at your grasp.

Did you really have everything, when you had a husband who refused to acknowledge you?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

You got home one day, tired and sleepless. You had to finish up a huge deal with a potential client and you were exhausted by the time you arrived home. Seeing that Tartaglia wasn’t home, you plopped on the couch and drifted off to sleep, letting your body rest after a tiring day.

An hour later, Childe comes home to see you peacefully sleeping.

He wastes no time and grabs a blanket to drape over you.

You wake up hours later, confused with the blanket on your body.

“You should sleep some more, it’s still the evening.” Tartaglia calmly says as he goes back to his room.

You slept again, confused and wondering if he felt obligated to do that or if he genuinely cared.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

The morning you woke up, he was the same dismissive Tartaglia that you knew. He never acknowledged what happened last night, and just went on with his routine before leaving the house.

It ate you up inside how you couldn’t understand him. Does he hate you? Is he staying for the sake of the company?And it hits you; He feels obligated to do all of this because it really is for the company.

That hurts to think about. But how can you complain when it’s as plain and simple as that?

You can’t ask for more, you’re just a marriage on paper.

Everyone just needs to believe you’re in love, you don’t actually have to be.

So why do you feel you yearn for someone so close yet so far away from you?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Those thoughts crept up more and more as the weeks went by. It was clearly affecting your performance; you kept missing meetings because of how nauseated you were knowing Tartaglia was going to be in the same room as you.

You made your time out at work earlier so you don’t have to see him at the house, and made your wake-up routine earlier than his so when he wakes up you’re already out the door.

All of that just to avoid him, to avoid seeing him, and realize you were falling deeper and deeper into something you shouldn’t have.

But all of that effort was thrown off the window when both of your families set up a dinner party, forcing you and Tartaglia to be at arm’s length.

“Same as before.” Was all he said before leaving the car to enter the estate.

You know the protocols the both of you set up to make it convincing for everyone; his hands on your waist and a bright smile with champagne on the other hand.

It hurt to smile like you were his when you know you weren’t.

“So how have the both of you been?” A guest asked.

“Same old, same old. Me and Tartaglia have been busy lately. I'm just glad we have time to ourselves when we go home at the end of the day.” You reply, hugging him with your arm as you leaned in close to him.

“I’m surprised you still use Tartaglia, don’t you feel comfortable calling him Childe?” Your eyes perk up at that comment.

Shit.

“Force of habit, apologies.” You pass it off as a joke.

The night passes and you decide to stroll in the garden at the back of the estate, alone. Acting like you really were lovers took a toll on you tonight, most especially with these new-found feelings of yours that were getting harder and harder not to ignore.

As you sit on a bench, looking up at the stars, you think.

Is he getting tired of this? He’ll probably ignore me again when we go back home. I just hope no one asks us any more questions, I don’t think I can handle it.

The thoughts were overwhelming. Before you know it, little droplets of rain start to fall on you rapidly. When you stood up, you were already drenched in the very strong rain. Instead of running back to the estate, you sat back, letting the rain pour onto you as you decided to cry it all out.

Pathetic as it may be, it was helping you let out your feelings. You cried, sobbed, and didn’t care if people saw you. Either way, they wouldn’t know that you were crying because of how strong the rain was.

What you didn’t know was Childe was looking everywhere for you, out of concern because of the rain. When he saw your silhouette in the gardens, he wasted no time running up to you.

“Hey-” He called out your name as he ran. “Tartaglia?” You brushed off the tears rain from your face and looked up at him. “What are you doing here? It’s raining so hard!” He screamed so you could hear him through the pouring rain.

You couldn’t answer right away. “Sorry.” Was all you could think of saying as he grabbed your hand to make you stand up. “You could’ve gotten sick! You don’t like getting sick, right?”

It was true. While it would be natural for someone to hate being sick, you hated it on another level. When you would call in sick for work, you’d still have your laptop ready on your bed as you experienced a fever.

“H-how’d you know that?” You ask. “I know all kinds of stuff about you! How you hate people being late, how you like your coffee hot, how you would arrange the spices at home in alphabetical order for some reason.” He laughed, still talking loudly through the rain.

He looked beautiful. Despite the rain on his face, despite his look of concern for you, he was majestic.

“Wait, were you crying?” He asked. His hand instinctively held your cheek.

“I-I wasn’t.” You lie. “Your eyes are red.” “That’s because of the rain-” You try to excuse yourself.

“Like hell it is.”

He quickly wrapped his arms around you.

“Are you okay? Did something upset you tonight? Is that why you’re here in the rain?” He quickly asked those questions and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall as you stayed in his arms. “I’m sorry I’m usually more put together, I…” You couldn’t say the words.

Maybe, for now, this short-lived affection was enough for you.

“You can tell me anything, you know that right? I’m your husband after all.” Those words caused an incredible amount of pain to you for some reason.

You breathed deeply before asking,

“Am I your wife, then?”

He looks at you, confused. “Of course you are. I know I don’t really show it, but I care for you. A lot. Contract or not, I still want to be married to you.”

One sentence was enough for all of your worries and fears to go away.

“You don't know how much those words mean to me.” I sigh and hug him tightly.

He smiles fondly and accepts the hug as the rain poured down on the both of you.

“I’m sorry. It seems like I had something to do with your current state.” He says, still holding you.

“I thought you hated me… hated this.” You finally admit.

“I could never hate this. The only thing I hated about this whole thing was how I never got to fall in love with you the right way.”

“What do you mean?”

“You-- gods you’re beautiful, you know that? And I was mesmerized by you when I would see you at gatherings. When I got the news we had to get married, I should’ve been happy. But I wasn’t. You didn’t have the chance to love me for who I was and instead, you were dragged into this contract. So I… I made sure to be distant. For your sake.” He says, clearly feeling guilty and upset about how he handled the situation.

“Clearly, that isn’t working. And I’m sorry. I thought you liked this arrangement…” His voice starts shaking. “I’m sorry too. For making it such a big deal-” “It is a big deal. No man should treat their wife this way and I learned my lesson for trying it myself. I won’t make this mistake again. Not when I finally know you feel the same for me.”

You had enough power within you to look at him in his eyes.

His mouth was trembling.

You put your arm on his cheek and smile.

“Can I finally kiss you?” You ask.

“I’ve been dying to do that.” He replies.

The two of you lean on one another, lips touching with a bright smile. Despite the ongoing rain, you savored that moment. The moment when everything clicked.

The moment when you knew you were meant to be with him.

When you pull away, the both of you smile, still holding one another. “We should probably get back now.” He laughs. “We probably should.”

He holds your hand as the both of you walk back to the estate, drenched from the rain but happy and content.

END.

Notes: this trope has a chokehold on me and I swear I won't stop loving it ♡( ◡‿◡ ) This one is a bit longer than my first post, that's because I really wanted to flesh out the story properly with the right amount of angst and comfort. Hope I provided that!

Inbox is always open for suggestions and comments.

-Clara

#childe #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact #childe genshin imagines #tartaglia genshin imagines #tartaglia #ajax genshin #childe imagines angst #genshin x reader

45 notes · View notes

ren-rambles-often · 3 months ago

Note

I couldn't help myself and send the person who harrassed you the following, lol

The ironic thing is that successful creatives being "freaks and weirdos" means they are normal people, and reserve their "freak" tendencies for fiction, like healthy humans do. Whereas those who cry and throw tantrums over "weird" fiction don't know how to be normal in real life.

AND THIS IS GENUINELY SO TRUE TOO!!!

A bit off tangent but also related, I'm gonna be a bookworm for a bit. So last night I finished reading Moriarty by Anthony Harowitz, I love most of his books, I'm almost done with the power of five and Alex Rider series, and in a lot of his stories even for the younger audiences there's still a good mount of death. "Moriarty" had a lot of death and gruesome scenes, and Moriarty as a character was genuinely a psycho who didn't have a problem with using and killing even those that helped him. It was genuinely so fun to read and even in the end notes it's told that the writer has written so many books and committed so many fictional murders in their time of writing.

Shit like this can be said for Stephen King and so many others, their works and raw and whether people like it or not, it's fun to read and enjoy so many taboo themes in fiction that we cringe and detest in real life.

Because in real life people get hurt and it doesn’t end when we close the tab or turn the page, real people continue to hurt and feel. In real life things like empathy, consent and boundaries exist and normal people respect those and the obvious fact that real human life and emotions aren't to be toyed with.

Going around calling real people pedos, fetishiziers, murders and all sorts of names just bc of how they engage with fantasy and fiction ignores these boundaries and lowers the value of human life equating it to simple ink on paper or pixels on a screen.

If a taboo topic offends you or triggers some terrible emotional scar, I sympathize but just like you there are boundaries or themes even I wouldn't touch. But I don't shame the enjoyers, I block and move on. Your triggers in fiction are yours and yours alone, close the page, block and move on with your life. Name calling won't save future victims, educating and stressing the differences between irl and fiction will.

Ugh I already told myself I wouldn't use this account for discourse but the last few hours have been so laughable to me. Accusations don't faze me but I'm very argumentative which I'm trying to curb. I want to spend more time on things that make me happy and excited to know more, not fight 18 yr olds and minors struggling for financial dependence and relevance. Y'all do you 😘

Thanks to anon coming to my aid I appreciate it and I hope they don't start bothering you too. It's best to ignore these people.

Which is why I turned off reblogs, if you wanna rant abt me, take screenshots I won't know abt or scream in my replies so I can block you. Peace and love ✌

#writeblr #anime #fanfiction #profic #profiction #fiction is not reality

2 notes · View notes

nikibogwater · 2 years ago

Text

Final Daniel Spellbound Blethers (season 2):

In terms of overall quality, it’s like Season 1+. All of the stuff I love about the show has gotten even better. But unfortunately, a lot of the things that didn’t work for me in season 1 were done even worse in season 2. Or, maybe they just looked worse because the good stuff was better? Yeah, let’s go with that, I like that better.

Anyways, I’m gonna be bouncing all over the place here (more so than usual, I mean) so apologies if this is a little jumbled.

Spoilers below the cut!

My biggest positive from this season was the new characters and their involvement in the story. Shak is an endearing little brat in the way that only kids can be, and Jayce is a deliciously tragic villain with all the swagger and charisma of a main protagonist. It genuinely broke my heart a little bit to see Shak reunite with her brother, only to realize that he’s not the person she once knew and loved.

On the flipside, I also often felt like the show wasn’t giving this situation the emotional weight it should have had. Shak and Jayce reuniting played off more like old classmates running into each other at the grocery store. And Jayce being able to temporarily fight off the Dread Magic within him because of the love he still had for his sister seemed more like an afterthought than a serious character moment.

Looking back on it, I think this was more to do with how the scenes were directed and edited than with the script. Like I said, the characters and the story they are part of are enthralling, it’s just something about the way it was delivered in the final product that felt a little....I don’t wanna say half-assed, but more like the directing/editing team were skittish about making things too serious. Which is a real shame because they had everything they needed to make a really emotionally compelling arc here.

Jayce as a character is surprisingly complex and oddly sympathetic. I loved that there were often no clear visual cues to let you know who was talking at any given moment--you’re left guessing as to whether this is really Jayce saying/doing these things, or if it’s just the corrupting force of the Dread Magic.

I’m anticipating a redemption arc for him somewhere down the line. There were just too many hints that the real Jayce is still in there for this to be the end of him.

Shak is just as fun to watch as her brother, and speaking as a little sister who loves her big brothers, I think the writers nailed her personality and motives. Her bit about touching all of Jayce’s belongings when he’s not around to yell at her felt particularly true-to-life, haha. She’s also allowed to be vulnerable, and I like that the show never lets you forget that she is just a child.

Daniel getting a little sister in Shak is everything I could have asked for from this show (sans Hoagie being turned into bacon) and I can die a happy woman now.

I really loved Daniel’s character as a whole this season, even more than last season. He’s clearly grown a set of morals since we were first introduced to him, and he constantly gives off these wonderful Exhausted Oldest Sibling vibes. I love seeing flawed characters change and grow to the point that they can start guiding other characters through their arcs.

Hoagie was slightly better this season, but not enough to really change my opinion of him (I detest him and I’m always extremely disappointed any time he escapes from a near-death experience). He had a handful of moments where he acted more like a genuinely likable character, which is a marked improvement over season 1, where he had literally zero. But he’s still unbearably loud and obnoxious and just overall despicable, and I’m afraid no amount of self-aware jokes about his general awfulness is going to fix that. They’d have to either send him through one hell of a character arc to make him clean up his act, or turn him into lunch meat. Personally, I’m voting for the latter.

This second season also delved into darker visuals and implications, which really lent a feeling of weight and tension to the story. I’m of the opinion that antagonists/antagonistic forces ought to be at least a little unnerving, but Dread Magic and the way it manifests is downright scary, and I love it.

I adore Elyse. She exudes massive amounts of raw Karen Energy, and Julie Sype sounded like she was having a blast voicing the character. She was a really fun minor antagonist.

Alright. I’ve put it off long enough. I have to address my biggest negative with this season: the character drama.

The conflict between Daniel, Lucy, and Hoagie felt as forced as a toddler jamming a circle into a square-shaped hole. In order to establish conflict, one or more of them had to act in a way that is painfully at odds with their established personalities. And what’s even worse is the way this retcons all of the relationship development that happened in season 1. Lucy is constantly assuming the absolute worst about Daniel and flat-out refuses to hear his side of the story. Like, Luce, honey, I thought you guys were friends. I thought you cared about him and valued his friendship, why are you suddenly so determined to push him away???

Then there’s poor Daniel, who is constantly being treated like he’s the one who needs to learn a lesson here, but given the circumstances, he’s really not the one who should carry the blame. Yeah, of course he can’t help Lucy find her scepter, he has a literal bounty on his head. He’s not actively putting off finding a way to turn Hoagie human again, he genuinely has no idea where to even start. The show keeps painting this as Daniel putting his career as a Tracker before his relationships, but in an effort to keep him from looking irredeemable, they kind of forgot to have him actually do that. In fact, it’s always his supposed friends who push him away first.

If anything, the lesson Daniel needs to learn here is how to end toxic friendships, because my LAND, Lucy and Hoagie spend the entire season treating him like trash when he’s not done anything that even comes close to warranting such behavior. And then they have the gall to make him feel like he’s at fault??? I’m sorry, but no matter how much this show tries to convince me otherwise, the fact of the matter is that Lucy and Hoagie were the ones instigating every negative interaction with Daniel. Why wouldn’t he focus more on his job instead of his toxic friends? The whole Friends Before Career thing only applies if your friends are actually, y’know, your friends.

I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking this, maybe I missed some crucial detail, or maybe it was just the ten-episode limit that kept the writers from being able to tell the story they actually wanted to tell. Whatever the case, the whole thing left me with a very bitter taste in my mouth, and I’m actually a little concerned about the kind of influence this could have on young kids starting to form friendships of their own. Like, I think it’s great to show kids protagonists who screw up and do or say awful things, but if you then forget to portray those protagonists realizing that what they did was wrong and working to fix it, then you’re just telling kids that it’s actually okay to treat people like this.

I feel like I should clarify that I really only notice this show’s flaws because it does so much so well. It’s like when you love someone, and then that person does something stupid that only hurts themselves, and you want to take them by the shoulders and shake them because DANGIT, STOP SHOOTING YOURSELF IN THE FOOT YOU BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL FOOL!

So yeah. In conclusion, season 2 was a very fun time for me, but also as frustrating as it was fun. But I will definitely take strong feelings of fondness and frustration over apathy and anger any day. So go watch Daniel Spellbound if you’re even a tiny bit interested. This is an original IP floating in an ocean of soulless reboots and cash-grabs, so even if it’s not absolutely perfect, I still want it to get as much attention as it possibly can. I will always want a flawed but inventive story over tasteless, risk-free rehashes.

#niki blethers #daniel spellbound

25 notes · View notes

randomkposts · 1 year ago

Note

In your opinion, would fem mello be a 'not-like-other-girls'

E:- Mello might be like that unironically.

K:- expand?

E:- Mello breaks the conformity of what is seen to be as socially acceptable in femininity

K:- and masculinity

E:-Mello as abrasive as she is, I can't genuinely add her with the misogyny attitude of 'I'm not like other girls' that is a sub branch of 'pick me' girls. Both are taken with the goal of putting down other women in order to elevate themselves.

K:- you make a good point.

E:- Especially with our Mello. Thank you!

I detest that sort of attitude since it's seen as a part of "feminism", but breaks it instead of strengthening it.

Besides that, Mello is Mello, she does her own rules and likes what she likes. She might've been coming off that, however she isn't going to make it her personality.

K:-"I'm not like other girls" is putting other girls down in an attempt to differentiate yourself from them, at their expense. .. and yours. Have some solidarity.

E:-Lmao. When i read that last part I can imagine Mello walking away but turn around and jabs a finger at whoever is acting like this

"Have some fucking solidarity."

K:-"I l'm not like other girls, I'm not obsessed with makeup".

"Ok then, I'm sure you have your own weird obsessions that other people roll their eyes at you over, but you don't see me bringing it up as a topic of conversation with you."

E:-Also it does point out that yes most of our fem versions of L Near Mello and Matt aren't the usual form of "general" social acceptance however none of them are going to tear down other women who do follow feminine traits.

K:-I don't do makeup really, but if someone has put the time into it to develop skill at it, then good on them.

E:-Especially ones like Takada, Naomi and yes even Misa can be added.

Yes! That too! I love light and bright soft colors and dresses. I can't always wear them due to weather and work.

While yes if we wanna continue the ye old inner misogyny self hatred maybe Mello did have this stemming from other outer interactions outside of Whammy.

K:-As foil to Mello, Light would do that unironically in the opposite way.

Light hates everyone in this, and will dunk on boys and girls.

"You've never played a video game?"

"What am I a boy? Why would I waste my time on that."

"You've never had a spa day?"

"I'm not like other girls, I don't waste my time on that" except not outloud, just inner monologue for both.

E:-As looking at Whammy.....they genuinely don't seem to give a shit about normalcy.

They should invest in Social Public cues as a class mandatory seeing all their geniuses are inept.

K:-"That kid can be a autistic as they want, all that matters here is that they can solve murders."

E:-Agreed. "As far as I am concerned, I take my studies seriously. Enjoy your spa, your nails seem to be neglected."

Mello can also toss that attitude with the best arm shot she can cause she has seen all types of geniuses at Whammy's so fuck that type of thinking.

K:- A Class social ,as other people see it.

"I know half of you dont care to interact with other people in real life, but its important to learn how they think, to understand possible motives behind murders, if nothing else. So as stupid as it sounds, being possessive of another person under the guise of love, is plenty of reason to commit murder. Apparently. We will now cover that angle in detail."

E:-"Today we learn why humans tend to act aggressively to commit murder when they aren't receiving intercourse. And decide to blame women for their woes."

Hey, Funny thoughts like unrelated to this, DN needs you to accurately write names and correct face right. Imagine someone getting a face tattoo only to cover it with make up lmak. Lmaooo.

K:-I think enough of a facial Tattoo might count as enough to mess with the Shinigami eyes, but I think something permanent like a tattoo would eventually count as a part of your face, in contrast to something temporary like a scarf.

E:-Yeah but like is anyone gonna check if you cover it with makeup consistently.

K:-It never came up in death note, because its set in Japan. It should have been a problem when Light had to interact with Amarica. I think it depends on the makeup.

Like maybe if it was massive clown makeup or something.

E:-I mean lets be real someone gonna have to done that at some point never update anyone kept it private. You seen makeup gurus right. Freaking magic with contours.

K:-I don't know, Tattoos are not always something you can get in one session.

E:-Small. Get a mini bee tattoo.

K:-And they need time to heal. Would be hard to keep a secret.

E:-Put a bandage and go "I got my ass handed to me."

K:-Several times in the same place?

E:-No, since tattoo's generally depend on how long it takes. Some can be done in a couple hours and can be small.

Shit K I can tattoo a mini soup character and cover it up

K:-We are forgetting about fake tattoos! Which are temporary, and so changeable.

E:-AHAHAHA! I was gonna bring that up but went meme later.

K:- wait. Let me look up the rules.

"A side view of a person's face is enough to be able to see their name and lifespan. A person's eyes must be visible in order for it to work, but if they are wearing sunglasses while their entire face is visible, it will work. It will also work If half a person's face is seen vertically.

Circumstances where the Shinigami Eyes will not work to see a person's name and lifespan include seeing the back of a person's head, seeing the lower half of their face (i.e. eyes are not visible), and seeing their body but not their face.

A photograph of a person is also acceptable, and follows the same rules as listed above. The only exception to this is when the person in the picture is deceased, in which case their name and lifespan will not be visible. "

Or formally. -

"In order to see the names and life spans of humans by using the eye power of the god of death, the owner must look at more than half of that person's face. When looking from top to bottom, he must look at least from the head to the nose. If he looks at only the eyes and under, he will not be able to see the person's name and life span. Also, even though some parts of the face, for example the eyes, nose or mouth are hidden, if he can basically see the whole face, he will be able to see the person's name and life span. It is still not clear how much exposure is needed to tell a person's name and lifespan, as this needs to be verified."

E:-Mmmm

K:-Tattoos might not work

E:-If half is covered then they can't see it.No no wait

K:-But masking and wearing sunglasses would

E:-We aren't taking in people or ex convicts who do try to cover up half their tattoos.

Who says a convicted man can't use foundation?!Society?!

*slaps hand on podium* NAY I SAY MAKEUP IS ARMOR!

K:-Nothing against foundation. But I think its getting at face shape being important.

So the question is, would wigs, hoodies, or religious coverings be any protection?

I mean, a Burqa deff would be more then enough protection.

E:-Oh totes. Man Covid fucks up Kira's day didn't it.

K:-Yes. But just a mask might not be enough. So sunglasses to be safe. Mellos burn scar did not protect him from kira murder. Makeup would protect someone from Light, but not Misa, Is what I guess I'm saying. Or Mikami.

Sunglasses that would protect one from the shinigami Eyes, Eclipse!

E:-Damn hack eyes. Oh well guess its back to the traditional misspelling foreign names or wrong kanji. we gotta give those sunglasses to L.

K:-Maybe If Misora had worn a wig, and makeup, Light would have ignored her. But she had no reason to go to that length of deception to the public at that point in time, as they still didn't know the how.

Look, If I could have a way to keep it without being killed by the shinigami fov being boring, I would be hard tempted by the Shinigami eyes. They get visual acuity of 3.6, or 72/20 vision, regardless of OG eyesight.

Whether that is worth half of my lifespan is a hard question to answer, but the temptation would be real.

But like, Lights a killer who has his list, goes through it, and moves on.

In contrast, Misa is more personally motivated, and Mikimai is more detail obsessed.They can just check the TV for pictures. Because Kira being able to kill through photograph sounds batshit to the average Joe, and people still need to know what the school shooters and ect look like, and maybe its easier if they are dead. And then enough of the public was on Kira's side that it never really died out.

E:-True bur this is Japan. Who has no issues hiding child killers. And still maintains hiding killers faces even post trial. Or the issues with the European system as well doing the same.

K:-Canon Light goes for the surface crime.

E:-LMAO! He just skims Justice.

K:-He kills people who have commited crime and have their name and face available. He doesn't dig. Like, he digs enough to hack, but hes relying on the public a lot more then he would ever consciously admit.

E:-If he needs details he has Mikami.

K:-Thats not until part 2.

E:-True true.Ugh God imagine he used the power of 2chan. Japanese 4chan

K:-Like I mean, maybe by part 2 he has gotten better at looking past surface crime and for underlying issues, but If anything, I think the prominence of the cult and stuff means he might have gotten lazier.

E:-Light learning management

K:-I mean, Mello is out there running the mafia (in a vacancy that may be kira related), but that the Mafia still exists after years of Kira indicates that Kira is not as effective as he hopes it to be.Thd Mafia still being around and capable of abducting his sister, indicates that overall crime is not receding as he thought it might.

E:-Oh no its full on rampant. He is dealing with surface crime. Not the actual big guys.

Or corrupt politicians outside of Japan like the Philippines or Latin America or South East Asia.

K:-Yah. The thing about both Light and L as figures of justice, is that they are holding up the current system they live in, not challenging or exposing it.

E:-While I can't blame them for not digging in more it does add to the fact its not as deep as it could've done as it centers around justice and ego of man.

K:-They are Justice, so they uphold the justice system as they see it. Light plays it by the socially conventional rules, where L goes off the socially (and often ethically) acceptable path to get the end result, which will be criminal caught. L cares about the journey, where Light cares about the destination.l, it's the same place, but different roads. They don't care why crime happens, just that they stop it. I guess I would say Justice is a core theme, but not the point in the story.

In contrast, PDN is about Persona 5 and Death Note, so will explore Justice in a lot more detail.

E:-That crossover is gonna take so much brain cells.

K:- I know

E:-I am a monkey with a keyboard ,K

K:-Hey, Imagine if Death note had Nickajack

"Mello is running the Mafia from America".

"Actually Sir it's worse. He's running the Mafia in Nickajack"

E:-I mean shit yeah that can happen they never had 9/11

Lmao lets make it real. Gotta commit to the DN crazy ass world logic. I snorted my coffee out with that Mello bit. I hope you're proud of yourself.

K:- I am

#female mello #always a diffrent gender #a conversation with my friend #death note #death note mello #random k #female light #light yamagi #gender #i'm not like other girls #discussed #feminism #tattoos #makeup #justice #DN Shinigami Eyes #death note worldbuilding #plot bunnies #PDN

8 notes · View notes