#this was made in a rushed way btw might be forgeting something!
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A/n: Ehehe, Since yall like my previous work! Thank you <3. I brought you guys some Daisuke fluff :))) Enjoyyy.
Daisuke x fem!reader
Warning: None, just fluff
You sat across from Anya, your usual bragging endless rambling about Daisuke. She leaned on her hand, watching you with an amused expression as you poked at your food packet, barely eating.
“I’m just saying,” you sighed dreamily, “he’s so… thoughtful, you know? Did you see how he fixed the terminal in the utility (Idk what im saying) yesterday? He didn’t even complain about getting grease on his shirt. I would’ve been whining the whole time.”
Anya smirked. “And by ‘thoughtful,’ you mean you were staring at him for twenty minutes straight, hoping he’d notice you?”
You shot her a glare but couldn’t help the blush creeping up your neck. “I wasn’t hoping for anything! I just… admire his work, that’s all.”
“Uh-huh,” she drawled, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve got it bad. Why don’t you just tell him already? I’m tired of hearing about how cute his stupid hair looks when he forgets to comb it.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I can’t just confess to him! What if he thinks I’m weird? Or worse, what if he laughs?”
Anya rolled her eyes. “Daisuke? Laugh at someone? He’s too nice for that. Honestly, he’s so oblivious he probably doesn’t even know you like him. You’d have to hit him over the head with your feelings to get through.”
You mulled over her words the rest of the day, sneaking glances at Daisuke whenever he passed by. He was soft-spoken and a little... awkward, but something about him made your heart race—his quiet kindness, maybe, or the way his lips quirked up when he smiled. He's so energetic you love it sm.
Later that evening, as you sat alone in the couch, you saw him walk in. He paused when he spotted you, looking a little surprised, but he offered you a small smile.
“Hey,” he said softly, sitting a few seats away. “You’re up late.”
You shrugged, trying to play it cool even though your palms were sweating. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you?”
“Same,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… hard to relax here sometimes.”
For a moment, you stared out at the endless stars on the screen, the silence between you surprisingly comfortable.
Before you could lose your nerve, you blurted, “Daisuke, can I ask you something?”
He turned to you, his dark eyes warm and attentive. “Of course.”
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding like crazy. “I… I like you. Like, a lot. And I’ve been trying to tell myself to just stay quiet about it, but Anya said I should be honest, and… yeah. I think you’re amazing, and I just wanted you to know.”
The words tumbled out in a rush, leaving you breathless and terrified. Daisuke blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, to your surprise, his cheeks turned pink, and he let out a soft laugh.
“Y-You… like me?” he asked, almost incredulous.
You nodded, feeling like you might melt into the floor. “Yeah. I do.”
A small smile spread across his face, shy but genuine. “That’s… wow. I didn’t expect that. I mean, I’ve always thought you were really kind and funny, but I never thought you’d…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck again.
“Feel the same way?” you offered, a little hopeful.
He nodded. “Yeah. I… I like you too.”
Relief and excitement flooded through you, and you couldn’t help the grin that broke across your face. “You do?”
He laughed again, soft and sweet. “Yeah. I do. I just didn’t know how to say it.”
“Well,” you teased, feeling a newfound confidence, “I guess it’s a good thing I beat you to it.”
A/n: UEHEJEIWIWHE WHY IS DAISUKE SO CUTE AND LITERALLY ENERGETIC <3 I LUV HIM SM! BTW, THX FOR READING! SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI
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Mystically Broken AU - Chapter 9
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Donnie's POV:
It was quiet. These walls were thick. That much was obvious. I was given food. But I never ate anything. They took my tech. Making weaponry for them. Against my will.
Honestly, I didn't mind if they killed me. I couldn't care less. I've experienced life's ups and downs and I've accomplished centuries of work no one can replicate. I've done all I could. What else could I live for? No one would miss me. I was a criminal. Not them apparently.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I thought of them. Mikey, Leo, Raph, April.. and.. Dad. Dad.
I touched the huge scar on my right arm, covered by a makeshift gauze. Shivering once I felt the sting or memories flashing back.
.
.
.
WHIP!
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.
I hissed in pain at the thought. The way they were so eager as well. Like I was just lab experiment for them. Testing my own tech on me. The glowing purple whip zapped around. I hoped they were satisfied. Then they could leave me alone. With food I'll never eat, with clothes I'll never change into, with memories I wish to forget.
.
.
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DONNIE!
.
.
That voice. That high-pitched tone.. happy go lucky. But it sounded distraught. Could it be?
Angelo?!
He held me tightly. Hugging and I happily hugged back. It was an appropriate occasion. He wasn't alone though, I lift my head to look at.. them. Oh, they look wonderful.. elegant in such high-quality apparel. They smiled. I couldn't get it out of my head. I paused before..
"cough, cough. So.. you came too. You look.. stellar."
"Don't look too bad, yourself."
I wanted to argue, to say I looked terrible in my current condition. But their happy smile made me stop. They were being genuine.
"Raph and Leo need us! Come on!"
Right. Leo and Raph. They were likely going to be contained using.. MY tech. How unoriginal.
We make it to the battle ground where Leo and Raph were holding their own against the police force which were using MY TECH! Getting their grubby hands on them and.. EUGHHH!
"Time for some RAZMATAZZ!"
he jumped in the fight.. albeit carelessly.. he moved with such flexibility.
They were supporting my weight. They held onto me. Being careful, so gentle.
YOUR POV:
We needed a way to deactivate all that tech..
I remembered bringing something. I show it to Donnie. It was his tech gauntlet. His eyes lit up. He grabbed it, with a lot of excitement (ignoring at how it was slightly stained with coffee which was definitely not my fault.)
With a few taps of a button. They were deactivated. Though that didn't mean we were done yet. Once Leo and Raph got some breathing room, they started attacking full force.
Cornered and defeated.
We were taking a breather. That was until we heard a loud laugh. Familiar yet.. worrisome.
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I know we didn't get much of Mikey and Raph but everything is being rushed. 😮💨😮💨
This story really had a lot of potential if I had tried harder but after this series will end, I might make short FICS about em and how their doing, maybe even a mini series focussing more on the YANDERE part since they aren't really.. y'know.. yanderying right now.
Btw, i was considering killing Donnie off.. but oh well! A trick to use for the future. 😋
Yours truly,
MysticMidnight
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise tmnt#save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise donnie#rise leo#rise mikey#rise raph#yandere rottmnt#rise donnie x reader#rise leo x reader#rise mikey x reader#rise raph x reader#Rise Leonardo x reader#Rise Donatello x reader#Rise raphael x reader#mystically broken au#mystically broken
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CHALLENGERS (2024)
i've been racking my brain for quite some time now to come up with a way to really express how i feel about this film - and i think the best way to do it is just to say that it truly made me want to get into filmmaking. and that it made me feel so fucking alive. it felt like a different type of oxygen. like crack or something. this is obviously going to be a ramblepost so i apologize if it's super fucking messy. also big spoilers will come with a warning so don't worry abt that. i am going insane.
+ btw here's the trailer if u don't know anything abt this hehehehe
anywayy i've never sat through a WHOLE film with a smile on my face bc i was just so fucking excited. elated is a really good word here i think. all of the following thoughts and words are in fact coming from my lower tummy bc no other film has turned me on so much as this did. it's not about sex btw.
luca guadagnino understands. he really fucking does. this guy is everything i want to be. it's all about the intimacy and the closeness. the sweat. the colors. the eyes. the dialogue. the camerawork. the build-up. staging and blocking. lighting. it is about sex but not in the way that you think. forget about porn and smut and whatever the fuck you think sex is. it's about watching and observing. taking everything in. it's about your heartbeat. the warm and fuzzy feeling in your stomach. a tightening knot. want and desire. anger. the rawness of it all. just the way things should be. forget about quickies and think about your best friend thinking about your lover. it's hot, right? it's about the rush. it's about sharing and not sharing. it's about greed and envy. think about sore muscles - how good they feel. think about flashing lights and thrumming bass in your ears. it's about music that makes you feel alive. it's about nudity, it's about power. humility and the absolute lack of it. it's about real humans, real people. eroticism. kissing. disgust. need. spit and saliva. tongues dancing together. muscles. skin on skin. laughter. love and something that's very akin to it but not quite the same. extreme close-ups and moments in slow motion, followed by fast-paced cuts and scenes. slapping. teasing and bickering. it's about everything i could possibly want in this fucking life and luca just handed it all to me on a silver platter.
i'm trying so hard to make this as coherent as possible lmao please bear with me i quite literally shed a couple of tears just from the overwhelming feeling this film gave me.
the casual intimacy is insane in this. one really specific thing made me absolutely lose it - there are TWO scenes where art spits out his gum into people's hands. the first is with tashi and the second time it's with patrick - both times they stand so close together that they're almost brushing against each other and they keep eye contact. there's zero disgust, there's no ew you just spit your gum into my hand. they ask for it. both times, patrick and tashi, hold out their palms for art to do it, and they do it without a word. no please or spit it out. i loved it so fucking much i wish i was better with words bc this genuinely had such a big effect on me. this type of intimacy is so important to me. it feels so real.
the dialogue was fucking great. i feel like the script is often where i might get The Ick bc i just hate when it's just so clear that it was written down without a second thought abt whether or not people actually talk like that (ok this actually might just be a problem with every single film my country makes but still). this felt good!!!!! they talk over people, they talk about small irrelevant things. they repeat what they said, they giggle, they laugh - again, it just felt so real and i loved it.
also. men in shorts. sweaty men in shorts. with shirts and without shirts. biceps. more sweat. muscles. we need more of that in life actually. i think men should wear shorter shorts and they should bend over more. ALSO MIDRIFF. SHIRTS RISING UP JUST A LITTLE, GIVING US A GLORIOUS PEEK OF WHAT'S UNDERNEATH. WHEN I TELL YOU THAT LUCA UNDERSTANDS I FUCKING MEAN THAT SHIT.
THE SOUNDTRAAAACKKKKKK RRRRRAAAAHHHHHHH EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU TRENT REZNOR AND ATTICUS ROSS WE LOVE YOU TRENT REZNOR AND ATTICUS ROSS!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean it's obviously not a surprise that the score slaps so hard bc well... these guys have yet to make a bad score lmao. but this one is genuinely one of my favourite scores i think. super fast paced, exhilarating - it suits the film so fucking good holy shit. fuck it i'll give you a few songs:
challengers: match point + yeah 10x + pull over +
the cast was incredible. and also very hot. i think they were all so fucking perfect and i have literally zerooo complaints abt them i loved them so much. but if i had to pick a favourite performance... it's josh o'connor as patrick zweig. fuuuuckkkk, man. ok maybe i'm a bit biased here i do wanna kinda eat him buTTTTTTT HE'S AN AMAZING ACTOR OKAY. i loved his character soooooo fucking much and i think he did such a good job at portraying this little silly fucked up guy. the way he looks at art, the way he acts around art...
here are two crazy fucking examples for you the churro + the chair uhhhhhhh i am very unwell abt them actually what the fuuuuckkkkk
oke but yeah i just might be really down bad bc i really do love overly cocky assholes with beautiful big smiles okay don't judge me
THE VISUALSSSSS OH MY FUCKING GODD THE COLORSSS!!!!!!!! IT WAS SOOOOOOOOOOOO BRIGHT AND PRETTY AND FUN AND ALIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EVERYBODY CHEEERRSSS!!!!!!!!! it's such a big problem nowdays that all of the films are so fucking dark like bro where's the sun...... dark and just very dull you know??? and i hate it i hate it so much. this was great though. again - super birhgt and colorful, luca plays with the light like a god and he's really making me believe that the cinema is truly backk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
they also mentioned spider-verse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i <3 luca fr
okay i think this covers most of it. i think. i have already decided that i'm gonna go and see it again next week so i'm sure that i'll be returning to this post!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope you can all feel my love for this wonderful piece of art and i hope that you all will go and watch it aswell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 ily thank you for reading<333333
#i got so tired just bc this was just so much#in a good way#i loved it i loved it i loved it#btw if any of you go and see it i'd looove to hear your thoughts too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#ceo of letterboxd says hello
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Let’s create a “clegan/buckxbucky/buckyxbuck/eganven/whatever we call the buckies” playlist together.
🎶 🛫 When you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen that remind you of Clegan (MOTA) and publish them. Then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool) (@onyxsboxes so i can add your replies to the playlist) 🛫 🎶
You can include more or fewer songs (as you prefer), I'll collect all the replies and put them together in a playlist that I'll share in a week or so (I'll update it as I receive replies, so no rush and no pressure).
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS & sorry in advance, i am a music lover first and a person second so i can’t not be intense about this despite having chosen mostly super cheesy songs!!
if i needed someone (the beatles)
if I needed someone to love / you're the one that I'd be thinking of / if I needed someone / if I had some more time to spend / then I guess I'd be with you, my friend / if I needed someone / had you come some other day / then it might not have been like this / but you see now I'm too much in love
there were so many beatles songs i considered since they wrote so extensively on many sides of love, but rather than going with my first obvious choice “if i fell” i thought this was a good song when thinking about them meeting, especially from gale pov! the cheeky way to phrase this, “i’m a very independent person and quite busy too btw BUT if i were to need someone in my life you’d probably be the person”, just that slow process of falling for a friend when the butterflies in your tummy start changing little by little, you smile a little wider any time you see your person, but you’re maybe not quite ready to admit it to even yourself yet, but in soft moments you might slip something like “the last few years would’ve been a lot rougher without you… bro”
2. standing next to you (jungkook)
Stop, can you feel that? / It's like Heaven and Earth moves whenever we touch // The universe approves when you and I dance // They can't deny our love / They can't divide us / We'll survive the test of time / I swear that I'll be right here / Standing next to you
this is fun, sexy pop perfect for the moment when they eventually do stop dancing around each other, that first love bubble of excitement of each touch and kiss and just being close to someone <3 but also the “standing next to you” sentiment is so good when thinking of even particular scenes in the show and overall how they’re able to show their love in public in fics too, just standing close to someone when you’re aching to feel.... also everytime a song mentions dancing it's in my clegan list
3. ocean eyes (billie eilish)
I've been watchin' you for some time / Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes / Burning cities and napalm skies / Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes / Your ocean eyes // I've been walkin' through a world gone blind / Can't stop thinkin' of your diamond mind / Careful creature made friends with time // I'm scared / I've never fallen from quite this high / Fallin' into your ocean eyes / Those ocean eyes
idk if this even needs explanation, i think the blue ocean eyes are a stable of this fandom and this also serves again as a perfect bridge from the previous songs as the flirty love bubble morphs into real feelings, almost scary in their intensity
4. falling away with you (muse)
So I'll love whatever you become / And forget the reckless things we've done / I think our lives have just begun / I think our lives have just begun / And I'll feel my world crumbling / I'll feel my life crumbling / I'll feel my soul crumbling away / And falling away / Falling away with you / Staying awake to chase a dream / Tasting the air you're breathing in / I hope I won't forget a thing
This could be a stalag/immedieate post-war song, i mean the whole song is so sad but these parts in particular are talking so beautifully about overcoming difficulties, loving someone when you know you can’t fix them and you might be a little broken too but for now the love in itself will be enough, will have to be enough to get your through the worst and then you can start to reasses where to go from there
5. exist for love (AURORA)
And then you take me in / And everything in me begins to feel like I belong / Like everybody needs a home / And when I take your hand / Like the world has never held a man / I know I cannot heal the hurt / But I will hold you here forever / If I can, if I can / And then I learned the truth / How everything good in life seems to lead back to you / And every single time I run into your arms / I feel like I exist for love / Like I exist for love / Only for love
Because I’m a hopeless romantic i needed to end it here, this is probably the most overly sweet n hearteyed song ever made but it fits them perfectly and in this small narrative over these songs i want them to always end up here bc real life sucks and i seek happiness from fiction
+ sata vuotta / hundred years (behm)
i know you asked for five but this finnish song just fit for them perfectly, especially since i’ve been reading @joeyalohadream cooler fic part two as a bedtime read for the past few nights and been in my feelings (you’re absolutely phenomenal writer and I adore your work!!) so i wanted to add this, but figured it probably wouldn’t make any playlist since the lyrics are the oof of it… I did a quick partial translation for the first part:
I’m sure that just with your eyes / You could make the sky itself fall down / And all the birds find their way to Eden / I might be losing my mind / When I find myself running after you to the hallway / Just to see your shadow for a moment more / And if you felt like drowning / I would give you my lungs / So you could breathe / If you let me / I’ll hold your hand tight / For a hundred years at least / But even that wouldn’t be long enough / No one else can make me promise them / Hundred years of my time, at least / And if you’d be okay with it, even longer than that
(there were so many finnish songs i realized fit them PERFECTLY but idk if it’s okay to spam them in this context, maybe some other time)
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU i love yapping about music and clegan so this was a dream way to start my day!!
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A Yule Ball Teasing
Pairing : you and Tom Riddle
Word count : 2285
Request : Tom making you jealous on purpose like going to the yule ball with a different date and ignoring you through the night (you're dating btw)
A/N : Thank you to the person who requested this! I genuinely had so much fun writting this !!
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The yule ball. McGonagall had just announced the news to everyone. Voices started buzzing all over the great hall gradually. Sitting over the slytherin table, you were excited. Ballroom dancing with Tom? You couldn’t be more thrilled. You shot a look filled with expectations towards him. He took notice of your glittering eyes, giving you a courteous smile full of love. That was it. The two of you were going together and you were certain of it. However, although you both had been dating for a while, you weren’t one to lower your standards. You were expecting Riddle to ask you to be his date for the night. Because you were dating, it was without a doubt that you both would attend together, yet you believed in gallantry - and Tom had been doing a great job at it so far - making you wait in anticipation for the way in which he would ask you out.
As the morning's announcements were now over, students emptied the great hall with fiery conversations. You rushed over to Tom’s side, taking a hold of his arm. “Can you believe it? A ball! I’m so excited!” You lovingly raised your head, as he was considerably taller than you. “Yes, that sounds quite interesting.” Always so aloof. You loved that about him. He wasn’t easy to crack, which made you probe into him relentlessly. Constantly bugging him, trying to know what was on that brilliant - yet sometimes dark - mind of his. Riddle didn’t mind you fussing over him like that, as he took it as a form of affection akin to that of a cute little pet, a puppy. But never uttered those thoughts to you, afraid to cross a line he shouldn’t. He simply loved teasing you.
“Let’s.” You almost asked him to go together. He gave you an inquisitive look. “Yes?” You avoided eye contact, “let’s practice lots and lots so we can be good dancers. You know, McGonagall said we’d all have to take dance classes.” A convincing recovery. You internally praised yourself for this. To you, it seemed like Riddle didn’t notice that you were actually about to say something else, but the fact was that he understood and feigned ignorance. He knew you so well - thanks to his easy understanding of people - and was already scheming a new way to tease you. “Right, not a skill I ever thought of acquiring, but since the opportunity is there, might as well.” You chuckled at his remark. “You always think so seriously and logically Tom.”
“Of course. Plus I’m not the one who’ll be stepping on their partner’s feet the whole night.” Partner. Was it coming? The invitation you were awaiting even though he sneakily made fun of you yet again. “Hey, what makes you think you’ll be better at this than me?!” The two of you were now climbing stairs, arms still linked. “Well for starters, I’m not clumsy by nature.” He gave you a certain smirk that caused you to lightly hit him on the shoulder.
The two of you reached the top of the stairs, Tom broke himself free from the intertwined arms to take a hold of your hands. “Alright then, this is where we part. Have a nice class.” He gave you a peck on the forehead. You sheepishly smiled. “But seriously though, did you really have to take divination?” Why did he always ruin the moment? If you didn't know better you’d say it was on purpose - which was the case - but you fooled yourself into thinking that’s just how he was. Slightly irked, you squeezed his hands with intent. “How many times are you gonna ask me this? And how many times do I have to say that I chose this class because it seemed easy!” He sneered, as he returned the squeeze on your hands tenfold. “Yes, that's right. I wonder why I keep forgetting it.” You almost whimpered at the slight pain coming from your fingers, giving him a mock of a polite smile.
“Oh, stop it already Tom!” He gently released your hands, before placing his own behind his back. He courtly bended his back, gently deposing a kiss upon your lips. “Later then.” Your ears went slightly red. “Later,” you timidly replied. He raised himself, smiling at the sight of your ears. You both parted ways and it dawned upon you. He didn’t ask you to be his date to the yule ball!
Dance classes supervised by Professor McGonagall turned out to be quite tedious. She was rigorous with each student’s training, and as Tom predicted, you stepped on your practice partner’s feet so often that he asked for another one. You plummeted in embarrassment, before finding comfort in Riddle’s gaze. His eyes hid malice and encouragement nonetheless. “Being each other’s practice partner would only ruin the fun,” was what he said. You had then steeled yourself, accepting to be partnered up with whoever wished to have their toes destroyed.
Still, the one you loved failed to ask you to the ball as days of practice and regular school activities went by. You witnessed other student’s invitations, becoming increasingly jealous of them and anxious at the passing of time. The subject of the yule ball started to irritate you the more you heard about it, which unfortunately was all anyone could talk about daily.
Your relationship with Tom remained the same, and you dared not bring up the matter, bitterly accepting the fact that you’d be each other’s partner regardless. You went as far as getting a pale blue and white gown, after how Tom said those colors complimented you. You hadn’t informed him of it yet, wanting to surprise him, even if he wasn’t fond of surprises.
The night of the yule ball arrived. You and Tom had agreed on a time and place to meet. “Let’s meet somewhere other than the Slytherin common room, so we can have a little moment together before the festivities,” was Tom’s idea. Feeling somewhat nervous, you came earlier than expected. However, as time went by you started to get worried about your date. Endless pairs of students passed before you, yet yours was nowhere to be seen. The time of the ball was drawing near and you decided to wing it and go look for him in the common room. It was deserted. You ran back to the meeting place, in the hope that he might be there. Eeven so he wasn’t. You started to think that maybe you had the meeting place wrong. You went about the lifeless Hogwarts running and panting. You got the opportunity to look at the time in your search. You were already thirty minutes late.
You rushed over to the ball, still concerned about Tom’s whereabouts, hope lingering in the back of your mind that he might already be there. As you entered, your thoughts were right. He was there! However, he was with someone else. You stood there, alone, sweating and breathless, your hairstyle hanging on for dear life, your ankles aching while everyone seemed to have the fun of a lifetime laughing and dancing. A pressure started to obstruct your chest as breathing became more and more difficult.
You hadn’t had the time to take in the breathtaking look of the decorations as your eyes met his briefly, but Tom quickly returned his attention to his date. Why? Why was he doing this when the two of you were dating? You felt a tingle in your eyes. This won’t do. There was no indication in his behavior let alone the relationship for things to be as they are now. Just even yesterday the two of you were making out in the Room of Requirement!
You needed an explanation, as you took back the feeling coming from your eyes. You tried to rush over to his side. “Tom!” He took his date and went somewhere else, pretending not to hear your cries over the loud music. Great. Now he was ignoring you. Try hard as you may, you weren’t able to get a hold of him. He swiftly guided his date all over the ballroom, avoiding you like the plague and playing deaf. People were even starting to get suspicious of you, muttering while looking in your direction. Even the teachers looked at you with inquiring eyes. The endless hours you spent tripping over and stepping over others toes suddenly felt meaningless. You practiced so hard for him and yet he couldn’t even acknowledge you, why?
It was enough for you to leave the room, whilst you failed to notice the smirk that sat on Tom’s face whenever he was sure you weren’t looking. He was relinquishing himself in your behavior along with your facial expressions while also fighting the urge to rush to your side to comfort you. He decided to end his little game once he saw you leaving.
Sadness turned to anger, as you made your way outside the castle. Surely the frozen night would be enough to numb even the pain in your chest. You were so furious at him, that you started cursing out loud in the dead of the night. Your boyfriend had just broken up with you without so much as an explanation leaving you wondering where things went wrong. Feeling somewhat calm after, you crouched, playing with the pristine glittering snow, trying to keep your mind off the situation.
“You’ll catch a cold like that.” You dared not turn around having recognized the smooth voice coming from behind. “Leave me alone!” Your voice cracked, betraying you of the feelings you were trying so hard to hide. “I think I left you alone long enough.” You clutched the snow in your hands until it melted.
You heard the crunch of his footstep over the snow before his shoes appeared in your field of vision. You didn’t raise your head, making him lean down to your level. He cupped your face gently, with his warm hands, forcing you to look into his eyes.
Glee was written in his eyes for a moment, before returning to their everlasting expressionless stare. “It was all on purpose. Me and my date were in on it, you know how I love to tease you. I must admit, it was a delight to see you running after me like that. But I don’t want you too saddened either, so forgive and forget?”
“No.” There was a limit to how much you could take. “What will it take for me to win you over again?” He had started to squeeze your cheeks making your lips look like that of a duck. Even though no fondness could be found on his face, he looked at you with the look you associated with love, causing your chest to tighten.
“I didn’t dance with her.” He released his grip from your face. “You didn’t?” This somehow lifted a weight off your shoulder. You practiced so hard for him after all. “I know how much you wanted to dance with me, so how could I go and get my first dance of the night with another?” He raised himself, extending his left hand towards you. “Shall we dance?” You raised your head, taking his hand in anticipation.
He raised you up with speed, catching you firmly in his arms. He directed his right arm towards your waist, as he continued to use his left to cling to your right hand. You instinctively placed your left hand upon his shoulder as he led you over a waltz.
“You’ve gotten quite good at this.” You cursed yourself for being this gullible, as you swallowed his sweet talk. “Thank you, I’ve been doing some extra practice.”
“Forgive and forget?” He asked you once again. You smiled, as love found its way back to your heart. “Fine. But if you ever pull something like this again!” He gave you a smile. “I won’t.” You both knew deep down that it wouldn’t be the case. Yet wasn’t this why you loved him? His teasing had no bounds, some worse than others yet you still remained by his side, faithful.
Dancing with Tom felt dreamlike. The two of you seemed to compliment each other’s steps quite well despite the thickness of the snow below - or maybe he was just that good at leading - causing you to question the skills of your previous partners.
Without warning, he took you by the waist to raise you up in the air, twirling you around. “Woah, what are you doing?!” You hadn’t learned this move in class, and were clutching to his shoulders for dear life. “Having fun.” He replied, looking at you from below. He kept you up in the air, in spite of no longer twirling, taking in your feature in the moon that glimmered over. “Blue and white really does suit you well. This dress looks nice on you. You are beautiful.”
Your face turned bloodred at his remark. “Don’t say things like that, it’s embarrassing!” Secretly, you enjoyed it. He put you down, scoffing lightly. You contemplated him, engraving his smiling features in your mind for the thousandth time. He brought you close to him, as if to try and keep you warm, wrapping his arms around your back and waist, while you rested yours upon his chest. You looked up at him fondly, while he returned the fondness not through his face but by leaning for a kiss that you returned almost immediately.
As you both parted from the embrace, a shiver ran down you. “I think it’s about time we return inside.” He put his suit’s vest over your shoulders, guiding the both of you back over the Yule Ball.
#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#harry potter#harry potter fandom#hp fandom#hp fanfiction#hp fic#hp fanfic#tom riddle#voldemort#tom marvolo riddle#lord voldemort#tom riddle fanfiction#tom riddle fluff#tom riddle angst#harry potter fluff#harry potter oneshot#oneshot#angst#fluff#comfort#hurt/comfort#fanfic#fanfiction#hoshi fic
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daily writing day 1: rocks or some shit
link to daily writing master-post here
Yulki sat on her cushion next to her tea table, putting the pot of hot water on the coaster that sat near the right corner closest to Yulki. She began preparing the ceremony, idly remarking to herself that it would have been smarter to set everything up while the water was boiling. Yulki picked up her spoon and shoveled approximately half of the small shards of gangue into the small glass teapot on her left. She poured the hot water into the teapot slowly and carefully. before putting the glass lid on and relaxing.
She had been working double time to get those sales reports done by the end of the month. Thankfully, her son, who worked at the same company as a miner had brought her some rocks that most viewed as useless. but Yulki knew better, sure it didn't give any kind of competence but it calms her nerves much better than any kind of quartz tea. It always made her feel more nervous, like something was smothering her emotions rather than giving them a nice warm bath.
She observed the tea as the clear blue water turned a nice reddish gray. Clearly this was mixed in with some copper so it should give a bitter taste but not nearly as strong as proper copper tea, that stuff it nearly undrinkable.
Yulki poured herself a cup savoring the fragrance, it was truly something. She could not understand how people could throw that stuff away to cook under the moonlight. Yulki felt the tea start to cool and took a tentative sip. The sweetness of the gangue and the bitterness of the copper contrast in a perfectly soothing way. This was truly what she lived for. No other tea could match the variety nor the taste that just a little bit of gange could produce. People only cared about competence though.
Yulki could understand the logic behind that, why worry about taste if you could take a sip of bile and gain super strength. But what did they drink for fun? What did they drink to relax? It was possible that there was something that everyone drank that she didn't know about. And it was possible that some might not like the taste of gange, but wha- Yulki cut herself off there was no point ruminating on what others were doing she should just worry about herself and just enjoy her own tea.
Once she was done Yulki got up to make herself another pot of water sliding open the door stepping into the hallway immediately forgetting what she was doing. Boy was she tired, maybe she should sleep. Yulki made her way over to her room all the way at the end of the hallway.
Light came from the window, that wasn't a good sign, she could see the moon coming over the horizon, drenching the land in its golden light. Yulki sighed and walked over to her kitchen, throwing her pretension about competence and made herself coffee bean tea. She wasn't a big fan about how mild the bitter taste was, but it did its job. Coffee beans were found to be one of the only plants to give a competence that being wakefulness.
Yulki grabbed the sack of roasted beans and began pounding them with her mallet, crushing them into small chunks that she poured into her travel mug along with some room temperature water. It will still infuse just not as fast as if it were hot. And rushed out of her house hastily throwing on her work uniform and probably forgetting her wallet too.
this was one of the magic systems that i was going to use for my wip before i settled on what im using right now.
gangue is a rock that is widely consider useless and is found mixed in with other useful minerals and metals, i feel like that's a bit rude so i figured id give it a bit of love
i am not proof reading any of that btw
@ohnoitsslime @kaylinalexanderbooks @theeccentricraven
@illarian-rambling @beloveddawn-blog @caligusabs
@weird-dork37 @ratedn @leahnardo-da-veggie
@you-need-not-apply @elsie-writes @fwoofz
@mr-orion @squarebracket-trickster @the-ellia-west
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❛ you look happier. ❜
For Campbell/Joe?
Maybe some angst for poor, sad Joe?
(You’re amazing btw… I spend days looking at your GO extended universe stuff :) thanks for everything u do)
Thank you~! That's so nice of you, anon! :D
Warning: mild depression, use of the word manic instead of bi-polar (because this is the early 90's!)
On with the fic!
--
The bus came to a stop and Joe quietly rose from his seat, shifting his backpack on his shoulder before exiting. He knew the path up to the hospital better than he knew his own walk from the bus stop to his flat.
He kept his head low as he passed a few of the patients and a nurse out on the lawn, doing whatever it was they were doing. His hands were shoved in his coat pocket, his fingers touching at the guest pass he had. It was grounding him to have it there, a reminder that today was going to be good. It needed to be good.
He was spiraling, it happened. He was told that it was going to happen and he often wouldn't predict it.
Joe hadn't told Campbell when they spoke on the phone about his mood, the DJ had been so happy to talk to him that Joe didn't dare try to bring down his joy. He didn't want Campbell to worry about him either.
He found himself inside, when did that happen? The card was out of his pocket, and he was placing it on the front counter at the entrance. The nurse behind there smiled at him, probably said a greeting, he wasn't aware. He might have replied, he didn't know.
He took back his card and signed a sheet, then he headed into the hospital. He passed more patients and staff, some greeting him, some ignoring him.
He walked a familiar path, his body on autopilot as his mind wandered. He hoped that he hadn't shown his current state of mind to Campbell on the phone last night, he hoped he looked happier today. He wanted to be in a better mood for his boyfriend.
Joe was upstairs, passing the familiar TV room, where the usual folk were sitting around the TV, watching their stories. He passed them without a word, instead his body took him to a familiar window. The blinds were up, there was muffled sounds from inside.
He could see an excited face inside, talking into the mic, even though none of the equipment was turned on. Campbell was saying something before he glanced at the window, then did a double take. His smile was wide, bright, showing teeth. He was excited, of course he was, shouldn't Joe be? He was, but he didn't know if he could show it like his boyfriend did.
Campbell scrambled from the desk and threw open the door, rushing out into the hall. It was quick, but suddenly Joe was wrapped up in a tight hug, and actually felt himself being lifted off the ground. "C-Campbell...!" He exclaimed, then yelped when he was spun around.
"Joe! You're early! Wasn't expectin' you for another hour!" Campbell laughed, spinning them around once more before finally putting Joe down.
Joe huffed, shaking his head a little, before glancing at the clock. "No, I'm on time. You just haven't been paying attention to the time. Again."
"Really?" Campbell looked at the clock and blinked. "Ah! You're right! Can't believe I lost track of the time! Should've been out there waiting for you at the entrance. Heh, next I'll lose my head! But then what would this fabulous staff be paid to examine?"
This actually made Joe laugh. "Campbell, that was terrible. Good thing you're keeping to DJ-ing and not comedy."
"Oi! I'm hilarious!" Campbell sniffed, trying to look offended, but this only made Joe laugh again. He watched as Campbell smiled. "You look happier."
Joe stopped laughing. "W-what do you mean?"
"Well, when I saw you through the window, you looked really down. Hell, you kinda sounded that way on the phone last night too."
"I did...?"
Campbell nodded, then put a hand on Joe's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "That's alright. You're just having a low, I completely understand. I mean, I've been dealing with them all my life, ya know?"
Joe wanted to slap himself, of course he'd forget his boyfriend would understand. He was manic, he had highs and lows, it was normal for him. Joe sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Sorry."
"Ah, don't be. Come on, you can chill in the studio with me! Maybe even help me out with my next set, if you're up for it?"
He looked at the understanding face of his boyfriend, and he nodded. Yeah, he was up for that. He slipped his hand into Campbell's and followed him into the little studio.
--
Campbell seems like he'd be very understanding, he tries his best with others from what I remember in the show, he'd do the same with Joe.
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Can u please share some old hollywood lgbtq actors / actresses and movies??? ( even if it's subtle or queer coded because i know they would never show explicit gay content in the old hollywood Era ) . I'm also interested in 70s - 80s lgbtq movies / actors / actresses!
yes of course!!!! it's been a long time since i watched any old gay movie so this list need some updating but let's see: (i'm adding non hollywoodian/american movies too if you dont mind) (also i'm putting those that i believe are the best gay watches in italic, and tried to cut the gaycoded ones down a little bit to the most heavy coded ones)
old lgbt movies:
different from the others (1919) - gay movie
sex in chains (1928) - gay movie
queen christina (1933) - gay movie tho not much as the two above. we see christina kiss a woman at the beggining but that's pretty much it. still a great watch!
the lady vanishes (1938) - gay coded side characters. they are not villains btw which is a win!
rebecca (1940) - gay coded main character/side characters
cat people (1942) - gay coded main character
laura (1944) - gay coded villain
the red shoes (1948) - gay coded villain
rope (1948) - gay movie (not too explicit but it's definitely not coding anything kdhdkxhdj)
song of love (1950) - gay movie! this one is a bit more artistic and experimental with lots of nsfw material so if you are a minor don't watch it!
all about eve (1950) - gay coded villain
strangers on a train (1951) - gay coded villain
diabolique (1955) - heavily gay coded main characters
rebel without a cause (1955) - queercoded main character and gay coded side character
tea and sympathy (1956) - gay movie
the third sex (1957) - gay movie! extremely homophobic tho but im adding it here anyway
girls in uniform (1958) - gay movie! there is a silent original version of it but i still haven't watched it
cat on a hot tin roof (1958) - gay movie! lot of it is cut out tho to please the audience at the time. i recommend reading the play before watching it. there is also two made for tv movies of this made in the 70s: one with natalie wood that is slightly more up front and one with jessica lange that uses the entire gay text!
compulsion (1959) - gaycoded main characters. it's basically rope (1948) but a little more obvious.
suddenly last summer (1959) - gayside character. a bit too homophobic too but still good!
victim (1961) - the most important movie in the list!! pls watch it!
a taste of honey (1961) - side gay character
the children's hour (1961) - gay movie!
the leather boys (1964) - gay movie! kinda boring tho
dream a40 (1965) - gay short film!
winter kept us warm (1965) - gay movie! again very boring but it is a gay movie so im puttinf it here!
the boy and the wind (1967) - gay movie
reflections in a golden eye (1967) - gay movie
the gay deceivers (1969) - gay movie. main straight characters tho and it's rly silly/stereotypical. but it's fun
the boys in the band (1970) - gay movie
some of my best friends are...(1971) - gay movie
cabaret (1972) - side bisexual characters
that certain summer (1972) - gay movie
a very natural thing (1974) - gay movie
dog day afternoon (1975) - gay movie (al pacinooo)
the rocky horror picture show (1975) - gay movie
la cage aux folles (1978) - gay movie
querelle (1982) - gay movie. lots of nudity and sex scenes tho they are mostly artistic!
come back to the 5 & dime, jimmy dean, jimmy dean (1982) - one of the characters is a trans woman
another country (1984) - gay movie (dirk bogarde loved this one 💕
kiss of the spider woman (1985) - gay movie
desert hearts (1985) - gay movie
my beautiful laundrette (1985) - gay movie
law of desire (1987) - gay movie
maurice (1987) - gay movie
apartment zero (1988) - gay movie tho it's leaning on the coding side. still gay horror movie starring colin firth!!!
as for actors and actresses (confirmed ones) : rock hudson, patsy kelly,montgomery clift, tab hunter, william haines, dirk bogarde, greta garbo, marlene dietrich, farley granger, ramon novarro, ruby dandridge, marlon brando, sal mineo, john dall...
#those are from the top of my head#also along time ago i was made aware of an actresses who would present herself by saying im a lesbian what do you do???#but i forgot who she was#this was made in a rushed way btw might be forgeting something!#ty for trusting be for that lmao#mail
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Lonely Heart
Prompt: Elain takes care of Injured Azriel - it's the first time they're alone since they almost kissed. Angst might be involved. ONESHOT.
A/N: I've been working on the prompts I've received (thank you so much for sending them btw) but I had this idea and I just had to write it.
No one but Feyre, Rhys and Mor could winnow to the Town House.
That’s what Elain kept telling herself over and over again as she stood silently next to her kitchen’s door, a bread knife in hand, waiting to hear any kind of noise again. A storm had hit Velaris earlier that day, the rain and wind chasing everyone away to their own homes, and it was possible she was mistaking every crack of thunder and every branch of a tree hitting the windows for something else… And yet, Elain couldn’t ignore the way the hairs on the nape of her neck stood up, as if they were all too aware that this wasn’t of the storms’ doing. She had lived in the Night Court long enough to have learned to always trust her instincts.
She was silently cursing herself for ever thinking getting her own place would be a good idea. Sure, living with her sisters and their mates had been exhausting to a whole new level, but maybe some things were worth it if they meant she got to stay alive. Rhys had sworn the Town House was as safe as their own house, warded to the point only three people would be able to winnow directly inside – and she knew none of them would enter her personal space without her permission.
But she had been baking when she heard the unmistakable creak of her front door, the tell-tale of someone entering her home – even if no footsteps had followed. She kept forgetting to buy some oil to fix that terrible noise, but today she had to be grateful for her own loss of memory, even if her heart pounded heavily inside her chest, and her arms and legs had long gone numb.
Adrenaline seemed to be the only thing pumping through her body as she tried to control her breathing, her entire body jerking at the sound of a drawer opening and closing, followed by a soft curse and a thud. It sounded as if they were in the sitting room.
Elain frowned, knowing that even if she left through the back door, she wouldn’t be able to return to his place without doubting every single sound she ever heard. She willed her sisters’ courage and prayed to the Mother for luck as she crossed the hallway, as silently as she could manage, her bread knife ready to strike.
She heard herself gasp at the shadow sitting on the floor, head thrown back against the wall next to the window. The moonlight hit his face in a way that made him impossibly beautiful, a painting of angst and sorrow. She had no idea what Azriel was doing here, and by the look on his face, he wasn't exactly sure either.
“Azriel?” She called, her voice thundering through the silent room. She reached for the light before she could even think, and the sight in front of her was enough to drain the colour off her face. “Are you hurt?” She whispered, the sound of her bread knife hitting the floor a distant reality as she took him in.
He was drenched, his dark leathers glistening under the warm light, his hair splattered against his beautiful face as he stared at her. He tried to move, wincing once before dropping against the wall once again. Only then did she realize why exactly the Illyrian warrior was on her floor, dripping and panting. He had an arm clutched to his side, his hand pink in what looked remarkably like faded blood.
Elain rushed to his side, bending to her knees as she reached out to touch him. Azriel flinched, so she dropped her hands. She pretended not to be hurt by it. “Can you get up?” She asked, her eyes taking in his appearance, looking for more injuries. Azriel nodded once before he tried to get up to no avail. Elain held his hand, noting his flinch as his hands touched hers, put his arm around her shoulders and helped him stand up, taking him to the closest wingchair where he slowly sat. It would be ruined by the end of the night, but she doubted either Feyre or Rhysand would care. Azriel slumped against the chair, groaning as his wings hit the cushioned back. “Your wings…” Elain muttered, frowning as she inspected them further. Elain knew how sensitive Illyrian wings were and noting the bleeding gash on Azriel’s left wing she knew he had to be in excruciating pain.
“I got ambushed.” He gritted out, his midnight voice a comfort Elain hadn’t been expecting. She hadn’t even realised he hadn’t spoken until now, her own racing thoughts loud enough to keep her company. Her eyes darted from his bleeding side to his wings. She knew how to treat his wounds enough so he could rest, at least until she could call for Madja in the morning. He had come here for a reason, one Elain doubted didn’t include her. He knew better than anyone that, at the very least, she knew how to be discreet.
“Take off your shirt.” She demanded, swiftly turning around to hide the blush that tinted her cheeks. She ignored how very wrong it had sounded, her entire body heating up as she rushed to the kitchen. Nuala had come by earlier that week to teach her how to brew medicinal potions and ointments and she couldn’t be more grateful for her resourceful friend as she reached for the glass jars by the sink. She remembered her lessons with ease – white vinegar and thyme to disinfect, eucalyptus and lavender to stop the wounds from infecting and dress the wound as comfortably as possible. Grabbing a few towels Elain returned to the sitting room, where Azriel now sat without his upper leathers. She gulped far more loudly than what she intended, his eyes darkening as they followed her.
“What are you doing?” He rasped as Elain dropped to her knees once again, grabbing a clean towel before dousing it with the vinegar brew.
“Taking care of you, of course.” She said as neutrally as possible, applying as little pressure to his hound as possible. It didn’t look deep enough that it wouldn’t heal in the next few hours, but the Shadowsinger seemed more than comfortable with the pain. Not for the first time since she met him, she hurt for him. How many terrors had he lived his lengthy life? She couldn’t help but wonder if there had been any reprieves at all. She ached to help him on that matter, but rejection was a vengeful parasite.
“I can do that.” He said but Elain simply ignored him.
“Where were you?” She asked as she switched to the eucalyptus tonic. She felt his eyes on her, but she pointedly avoided his gaze. There was something to be said about her strength in ignoring someone she ached for so fiercely.
“A mission.”
Elain chuckled drily. “And here I thought it was at training.” She said, immediately regretting her own tone. Gazing up at him she couldn’t help but blush when she saw the smirk adorning his lips. She refocused her attention back on his wound.
Why had he come here? She wouldn’t believe he thought the house to be empty the same say she wouldn’t believe his visit had been innocent at all. The last time Elain had been this close to him his lips had been inches away from consuming her completely, his touch as unrestricted as her desire for him. After having so much taken away from her, after having so much thrown at her…Elain had foolishly believed him to be someone she was choosing for herself. She now cursed herself for such foolish thoughts, the tang of rejection as present as it had been that night.
Elain frowned, rejecting those unwelcome emotions. It wasn’t the time to think of such things, not when he appeared to be badly injured. “Please lean forward.” She said a bit more shyly now as she gathered the gauze, searching for her trusty bread knife. It remained by the door, and Elain rose to get it, ignoring the shame that threatened to overpower her. Would she ever stop looking foolish in front of him?
“What were you going to do with that?” He asked, his breathing calmer now, his hair curling as it dried. Elain’s brows pitched together as she looked at the knife.
“Cut the gauze to dress your wounds.”
“No,” His face as stoic as always. “Before. When you saw me.”
Elain felt her cheeks heat but ignored it as she made her ways towards him again, cutting the gauze with a single swiped. “I was protecting myself.” She replied, her tone daring him to question her reasoning. She was well aware a bread knife would only let her protect so much, but it wasn’t like she had any weapons just lying around. Rhys had told her there’d be no need and she had believed him.
Azriel frowned. “From me?” He asked softly. Elain’s head snapped up, her eyes meeting his. Since when had he so little faith in her?
“Would I need to?” She asked back. Azriel simply stared at her, his expression as apathetic as only he managed.
“Never, my lady.” He said, his voice low. Elain glanced at him, ignoring all the wrong ways her body reacted to him. She finished tying up the gaze, finally pushing to her feet. It seemed tight enough. She grabbed another towel, heading towards his wings as his hand reached out to grab hers. “Elain…” He muttered, his eyes so filled with regret she felt sick to her stomach. She wasn’t sure if he was waiting for her to speak, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t again apologise for what had happened that night.
“I need to take care of your wings.” She nodded towards the gash, finally able to step away once he released her wrist. Elain grabbed the softest towel, dousing it in a smaller douse of vinegar before she walked towards the back of his chair. The wound had luckily stopped bleeding, but it was deep enough he would need to call for Madja come morning. She pressed the cloth to the surrounding area of his wound, surprised when his entire body shuddered under her touch. “Does that hurt?”
Azriel chuckled darkly, his head falling forward in a way that flexed his back muscles deliciously. Elain quickly looked away, not for the first time that night wishing for the lights to be dimmer. What was she thinking? “No, that didn’t hurt.” He mumbled so Elain tried again, her finger accidently meeting the leathery membrane. Azriel hissed this time, his entire body tensing further.
“What?” She demanded, brows furrowed as she inspected his wings. She wasn’t even applying any pressure, nor was she touching the stabbing wound.
“Illyrian wings…” He started, his breathing ragged. Elain saw him shake his head as if trying to clear away any unwanted thoughts. “They’re very…sensitive.”
She knew that. She had taken that into consideration, which was why she was barely applying any pressure.
“I might not be a healer, but Cerridwen and Nuala have taught me the basics, you needn’t worry.” She promptly assured him. “I know what I’m doing.” She added when the silence turned deafening.
“I know you do.” He added softly. “But they’re not only sensitive in that way.”
“What-” Oh. Oh.
Elain blushed furiously, almost dropping the towel to the floor. Feyre and Nesta had never mentioned such a thing nor had Nuala and Cerridwen. And why would they? It’s not there was any reason why she needed to know that.
“Right,” She cleared her throat, hoping to the Mother her embarrassment wasn’t as obvious as it felt. Or at least that he would spare her and not mention it. “M-maybe it’s best if you do it yourself? I’ll-I can wait in the kitchen while you-” She was fumbling with the glass jars when his rough hand grabbed hers again, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.
Azriel offered her a smile. “I want you to do it.”
Elain felt her breath catch inside her chest, her eyes never leaving his. “Are you sure?”
Azriel nodded once, his thumb stroking her hand once more before releasing her. She walked back, her hands shaking slightly as she tried again to clean his wound. Knowing exactly how it affected him… She felt embarrassed, entirely too hot for an autumn night, and yet that information wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
With as much care as she managed, she cleaned the surrounding area of the gash, completely aware of every shudder and intake of breath out of Azriel’s mouth. He was gripping the arms of the chair, the wood groaning under his touch. Elain felt like taking a cold bath in the confines of her bedroom, far away from everyone. Her body reacted to him as naturally as breathing and she cursed herself for the heat pooling in her core.
“Elain.” He groaned, snapping her out of her dirty mind. Had he scented her arousal? Embarrassment flooded her as she quickly stepped away from him.
“I-I’m sorry.” She stuttered, shaky hands grabbing the eucalyptus potion. Had she poured it already? She couldn’t remember. “I cannot bandage your wings tonight.” She explained, her voice wobbly as she gathered her things. “You can sleep in one of the rooms, if you want to.” She added quickly, her eyes never straining away from the things in her hands. “I’ll call for Madja in the morning and-”
“I don’t regret it.” He interrupted her, his voice low and yet loud enough to awaken something inside of her she feared feeling ever again. Hope was an old enemy.
Elain’s lip quirked up, so at odds with what was going through her mind. “You don’t need to say that.”
“I don’t regret it.” He gritted out, pushing to his feet.
“You should sit down-” She protested.
“Elain.” She felt his calloused hand press against her neck - just as it had been that night - before he wrapped it around her throat, squeezing it in a way that ought to be depraved. Elain shivered, making his eyes darken in answer before he repeated his words, “I never regretted it.”
Elain closed her eyes, longing for the quiet hours of earlier when Azriel had only been a distant ache she was learning to ignore. “Why did you come here?”
His jaw clenched as his eyes searched for hers. “It was the first place I remembered.” He frowned, as if not quite sure the lie had worked.
“Tell me the truth.” She pleaded. Azriel’s eyes flickered between her own, as if trying to understand what she was asking of him. As if deciding whether the truth was worth the consequences it would bring.
He frowned, as if angry at whatever he had realised. “I can’t stay away from you.” He muttered, every single word as pained as the previous one. Elain eyed him then, her heartbeat pounding against his fingers where they pressed against her neck. She was panting, unsure of what to think or feel. How could he say a thing like that? How dared he give her hope after the swift rejection he had delivered only weeks ago? Did he take her for a fool?
Or maybe he saw her only as a quick way to get relief. She had been touching his wings for the past few minutes and knowing what she knew now, she wouldn’t be surprised that was what made him change his mind. But she had had enough of males changing their minds about her. Didn’t she deserve a love worthy of a song? A love as her sisters had found.
Elain looked into his eyes, her own dropping only once to his lips before she raised them up again. She didn’t miss the way he leaned in further, didn’t miss the way his hand tightened around her neck. She was playing with her own heart at this point, but she had little left to lose.
So she parted her lips, her whisper a secret between the two of them. “Prove it to me, then.”
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Okay so similar to pretty boy (which I love btw!!!) could you do one were reader paints Steve’s nails and it’s just hardcore pure fluff? xx
LOVE THIS! soft steve is my fav thing. Ty for the request :)
Fill the Gaps - Steve Harrington
Summary: Steve paints your nails terribly, so you paint his to show him how it's really done, leading to a very mushy admission.
Warnings: tooth rotting fluff!!
Word count: 1.2K
"Keep still!"
Steve's tongue poked out between his lips in concentration as he swiped the colour over your nail. His hands were shaky - though he protested that your hands were moving, that was the reason there was more nail polish on your skin than your nails. Steve had been laid out on your bed - sprawling, comfortable- when you had begun to paint a new coat on your chipped nails.
"Can I try?" he had said, and you thought it would be a sweet - and harmless, totally not messy- activity.
You were most definitely wrong. It didn't bother you much though, you liked any excuse for Steve to hold your hand. He had a delicate grip on your ring finger as he tried his best to stay within the lines of your cuticle. His brows furrowed as he got frustrated with himself. "God," he said, "star shooter can't stay in the lines." He paused his brush strokes for a second, hesitating as he eyes your pinky.
"Do you want me to show you how to do it?" you asked, propping up on your knees and grabbing a book to lean against. Steve nodded. Though he was terrible, he wanted to learn. He liked helping you do things, plus it was fun to him. He also liked the excuse to hold your hand for so long. Fully expecting you to demonstrate on your other hand, Steve was shocked when you grabbed his own and laid it flat on the book. You spread his fingers apart. "Is that okay?"
"Sure," he said, eyeing the electric blue bottle curiously. You took his fingers into your hand gingerly, resting them flat. You took long , careful strokes on his nail, revealing a clean block of colour. "See?"
Steve watched you intently as you did the rest of his hand, as if he were in a lesson. He wanted to do this for you in the future, so he took mental notes. But it was so hard for him to concentrate as your thumb steadied his hand from shaking. The way you- any part of you-made Steve nervous drove him nuts. Steve was a confident guy, but the second your skin brushed his or you so much as smiled at him made the King Steve lingering inside crumble and left behind a stuttering, blushing mess. He wanted to be this mysterious, hard to get guy that drove the ladies wild, but he would go all warm and gooey inside the second he made you laugh and forget all about it.
You and Steve had been together a little while. Long enough for him to have met your parents, and you to have met his. Long enough that he called you his girlfriend when he introduced you to people, and long enough that you had to apologise to friends that your boyfriend was stealing you away again. You were extremely happy together.
And yet, neither one of you had said it yet.
You thought maybe he would say it two months ago, when he had waited to pick you up after work. He was leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed over his chest with a daft grin on his face. He looked like something out of a John Hughes movie and when he outstretched his arms and enveloped you, resting his head against yours, you thought he would say it. But he said "I missed you," and placed a kiss to the top of your head, and that was good enough for you.
The second time you thought he was going to say it, you were shopping together for dinner. You felt his eyes on you as you reached for high shelves and pushed the cart with blissful domesticity. You thought he might say it as you rushed into the rain to get the paper bags into his car before they melted in the downpour. Then as he paused and looked at you with the most soft look on his face, you thought that this was it.
But he just kissed you, and that was good enough for you.
Steve had zoned out, thinking about the wind chime song of your laugh - his favourite sound, he had decided- when he noticed you were done with his whole hand. "What do you think?" you asked. Steve flexed his hand out in front of him. As he looked at his electric blue nails, his eyes drifted to the excited glint in your eyes. "I think you want to do my other hand," Steve drawled with a smirk, "I'm right, aren't I?"
You nodded, grabbing his other hand from its place by his side and beginning to paint. "Come on, let's make you pretty."
"I love you."
You hand jolted, getting blue nail polish all over Steve's hand. "Shit! Sorry," you rushed to grab the remover and a cotton ball, dragging it over his palm. You rushed to clean it up, desperate for more time to relive the sound of Steve Harrington telling you that he loved you, over and over again.
Steve was suspended in mid-air as he awaited your response. Tired of waiting, he stopped your frantic hands. "Hey," he said, "cool it before you ware away layers of skin." He chuckled, but he was buzzing with nervousness. "Listen, you don't have to say it back - you don't have to say anything! I just, God, I thought this would be easier," he ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I love you, and I have for a while, and I don't know if you feel that way about me, but-"
You cut off his rambles with a small kiss. "I love you too," you said, hand resting on his cheek.
Steve's eyes widened as you pulled away. "Oh," he breathed in a sigh of relief. "That's good."
With both of you exponentially more relaxed, you finished Steve's other hand. The two of you , with your matching nails, spent the rest of the day together. When night fell, the two of you curled up in the limited space on your bed. Every so often, Steve would dip his head to your ear. "Say it again," he would whisper.
"I love you," you would say, heart thumping in your chest each time, and Steve would smile contently.
He had everything he wanted , with the stylish bonus of having electric blue nails.
#steve harrington#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x yn#steve harrington stranger things#joe keery#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fics#eddie munson imagine#fluff#joseph quinn#stranger things#stranger things 4#eddie munson x yn#eddie stranger things#stranger things cast#stranger things bts#stranger things fluff#underrated#steve harrington fic#eddie munson fic
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Promt: getting into an argument and accidentally admit feelings for eachother.
Loooved your recent stories btw❤️❤️
Hi!! It’s been forever since you sent this so thanks for being patient. ☺️ I wrote a one shot for the 2022 sherlolly week about 9 months ago and it was one that really stuck in my brain. I’ve been thinking about doing more with it since then and it suddenly hit me that your prompt would work really well. Hope you don’t mind that I used it for this! Here’s ch 2 of the fic below and I’ll also link to AO3. And surprise… a third and final chapter will also be coming tomorrow! 🥳 be sure to let me know your AO3 name, so I can gift it to you. Happy reading! 😁
Please Don’t ch 2
Returning from town after settling some business, Sherlock opted to take the long winding road back to Musgrave Hall, which took him through the woods. He was never in much of a rush to return to his family’s estate anyway, and much preferred the intrigue of the natural world. There was where he discovered the unexpected and learned things he never would have if stuck behind a desk all day. Besides, best to stay active, having seen the physical results from his brother’s very different choice of profession and lifestyle.
Sherlock broke through the trees at one point in the path, the view opening up to the fields and cliffs that overlooked the seaside. This was always his favorite part of the walk. And after enjoying the impressive vista, Sherlock’s gaze shifted, as it always did, to settle on the fields and the little farmhouse which happened to be his personal favorite.
The Hooper farmhouse.
He didn’t always visit, but at the very least he liked to stop and take it all in, just for a little while. It had been a home away from home for him since he was a child. Sometimes even more of a home than his real one. Even the stillness of the home itself was pleasant to gaze at, perhaps with no other sigh of life than the puff of smoke coming from its chimney. But sometimes, if he waited a while… he might see her as well.
Once in a while when passing, he’d catch a glimpse of Molly Hooper, out in the fields or in the grounds around the house. She might be carrying firewood into the house or tending to the chickens and livestock or maintaining the home itself. No matter what it was, the occasional sight always made him smile, despite himself and his cold hearted nature.
But he always supposed that Molly was a part of those comforting childhood memories, so of course the sight of her was a pleasant one.
As Sherlock stood there in the breeze that came off the water that evening, he did indeed happen to see the door open. What he saw next though, was wholly unexpected.
A man stepped outside, too far off for Sherlock to recognize, placing his hat on his head as he beamed at Molly, who stood on the threshold bidding him farewell. Sherlock watched as the man visibly lingered and then finally tipped his hat and made his way to the road to take his leave. Then the door to the little home shut as Molly made her way back inside.
Sherlock couldn’t help but stand there in stunned silence for a few moments. This was… most perplexing. He felt… hurt? No of course not, merely concerned for her. Who was this man? Perhaps it was none of his affair but… this was his family’s land after all! Hadn’t he the right- nay, responsibility! The responsibility to ensure that Molly be wise in how she conducted herself!
Deciding he hadn’t a moment to lose, Sherlock impetuously marched down the hill towards the little house, having suddenly become a man on a mission. He knocked at her door upon arrival, then squared his shoulders.
Molly swung the door open without so much as a word of question.
“Did you forget someth- Oh, Mr Holmes, good evening.”
“Might I come in, Miss Hooper?”
She looked round in confusion for a moment before stepping aside to allow him entry.
“Is… is anything wrong, Sir?” Molly asked as they walked into the sitting room of the small home.
Sherlock merely sighed, stopping at the fireplace and leaning his hands against the mantle. “I’ve come by to advise you to take care, Miss Hooper,” he finally replied, turning round to face her, hands clasped behind his back.
“To take care?” She remained perplexed. “In what way, Sir?”
No point in beating around the bush.
“Who was that man who just left your home this evening?”
Realization flashed in her eyes. “You mean Thomas Harding? Yes, he was just here.”
Sherlock narrowed his eyes, thinking. “Thomas Harding… he is the blacksmith, is he not?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Mmm.”
Molly’s brow furrowed a bit. “But, Sir, why must I take care? What is the meaning of this?”
Sherlock gave a little huff. “Do you think it proper that this Mr Harding be calling on you here? Alone?”
Molly’s entire demeanor changed, though he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. She crossed her little arms tightly over her slightly flour coated dress and glared at him.
“Mr Harding is a respectable man, I’ll have you know! I offered him refreshment but he refused to even take a seat! Merely stood inside my doorstep and made polite conversation after giving me the bunch of flowers you see before you on the mantel.” Molly gave Sherlock a pointed little look up and down. “You’ve certainly never been so shy about making yourself at home here!”
“That is completely different,” Sherlock proclaimed, stalking about the room. “I am the landlord!”
“And I s’pose that means rules of propriety don’t apply to you, then?”
“It means I have the right to take an interest in the lives of my tenants! And a blacksmith? Pff! Really, Miss Hooper, surely you can do better than that.”
Molly’s jaw dropped, her eyes went wide and she dropped her arms in her shock.
“Mr Holmes, first you insult my reputation, and now you insult my choice of suitor! As I said, Mr Harding is a good man, and he is also an honest worker. What more can a simple woman hope for?!”
“He is dim witted and would make a dull husband,” Sherlock replied flatly.
Molly’s voice rose further. “He is kind hearted and would surely cherish me! And what business is it of yours who I wed?”
Sherlock could feel himself running short on ammunition, and his fingers tapped against his own hand in wild agitation as he walked.
“This land is an investment, after all. I paid its debts a year ago and that has turned out to be a profitable choice. I have no desire to see that come to nothing once again when you wed a man who hasn’t the backbone or smarts to succeed at working a plot of land!”
Her face fell in a way that nearly made his hardened exterior crumble completely.
“I… I know this land is your family’s investment. Of course it is,” she said more softly. “But I thought that attachment to… to my father was your motivation in paying our debts. Was that a lie?”
Perhaps that was a bad choice of argument.
“I- I never said that.”
“Well then what is this?” Molly demanded, her combative tone returning. “How and why do you expect me to tend to this land and this home forever on my own? And why should I give up on the dream of a good husband and family simply because I cannot have-“ She stopped, placing her hands heavily on her hips and turning away.
“Cannot have what?!” he pushed against his better judgment, drawing nearer.
“I cannot have more than this and it is cruel for you to pretend that I can!” Molly bit back, whirling to face him again, her eyes now glistening. “An honest blacksmith who’ll treat me kindly and that I might just grow to care for one day is all I can have!”
She paused for breath and Sherlock nearly rushed to her in that instant. For what, he couldn’t say, but he held his feet back, not fully expecting what came next.
“Because I cannot have the man I truly want!”
Sherlock clenched his jaw and fists at his side, feeling like every inch of his skin humming with a maddening energy. “You see?! This is precisely why I needed to advise you! You are a fool, Molly Hooper, if you think you cannot have any man you set your mind to!”
She was the one to move then, marching over toe to toe with him, though somehow feeling the need to be louder still. “And you are the greater fool for being blind to what has been right before your eyes for years! Because it is you that I want and can never have!”
“Ha! Yes you can!”
Oh.
Oh.
The room went completely still and silent, save for the soft crackling of the fireplace and the sound of both his and Molly’s unsteady breathing. Sherlock’s mind went over and over what they’d both just said, trying to make sense of it all. Had he always known how she felt? Had he always known how he felt? Perhaps deep down he had.
The difference was that now there was simply no escaping it.
#sherlolly#prompt fill#Georgian au#period romance#reeeally had fun with this one#oh and ch 3 is already written#so definitely posting tomorrow!
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Work It Out
Summary: Spencer realizes that he might just have feelings for his neighbor after seeing her in her workout gear.
A/N: I boofed it. Trying to write a blurb and I ended up writing a whole fic. I will never learn.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Implied that reader is athletic but no mention of her body type)
Category: Smut, Angst, Fluff
Warnings/Includes: bad communication, cursing, smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, light spanking, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!
Word count: 2.7k
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Requests Filled:
“blurb idea that’s been living in my head, rent-free: reader is spencer’s neighbor and a dancer, who he has a huge crush on. spencer goes over to her apartment to borrow something and interrupts her daily stretches and spencer gets all flustered because she’s wearing leggings and a sports bra, and she’s so flexible”
“okay so this next thought came to my mind while i was doing some exercise lol: imagine that u started a new routine and you feel super tired at the ten minutes of the video haha, then spencer came back to work and when he see u doing some squats he's so turn on and then he just get close to you from behind and whispers "c'mon bunny, u can't with this, the only thing that u can handle is my cock" and then he just fuck y/n so hard aaaaaaaaa btw i'm the anon who sent that visual the past week of Twitter about the flowery lingerie 😌🙏🏻 —🥀”
“okay so like reader working out in Spencer’s apartment and he’s just watching her and getting all worked up. reader noticed and starts teasing him until he can’t handle it - 🐍”
-- -- --
They’d struck up a friendship almost instantly, from that first day that she moved in. He tried to help her with her boxes but he almost felt like he was holding her back, he got winded just going up and down the stairs on his own, let alone while he carried an entire box he later found out had been full of books. She laughed at him when he placed it down on her kitchen table and read the permanent marker label on the side. He still remembers how light her laugh had made him feel, how perfect it was.
From that first day things were just easy, effortless. He liked that he didn’t have to think around her, about work, about anything, he always felt so comfortable around her. Until that day.
The day that he couldn’t find his dustpan and brush after breaking a glass, so he went next door to see if she had one he could borrow. When he knocked on the door and heard a small ‘it’s open’, he walked in as normal, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight.
The furniture in her living room was pushed to the walls as she stretched in the centre of the room. He was sure there must’ve been a name for the pose she was in, but all he could concentrate on in that moment was how her body looked in the spandex of her leggings and sports bra. The smooth way her body contorted into strange shapes, the way her back arched so perfectly, and the way he could make out every curve of her body in a way he’d never really noticed before.
Thankfully she didn’t seem to notice his staring as she concentrated on her movements before finishing up her pose.
“What’s up Spence?” she breathed once she relaxed, turning her eyes to him.
And for a moment he wanted to turn around and run away. He was almost positive that his face was a glowing shade of pink, he could feel the heat as it radiated off of his cheeks while she looked at him expectantly.
“Uh, I um- A glass!” he stuttered out, “I broke a glass” he finally managed but she still just looked up at him with a puzzled expression.
“Okay, we’re really low on news today I see” she laughed, and he sort of wished she hadn’t, because it’s his absolute favorite sound.
“Sorry, I wanted to- I uh- I came over to see if you had a sweeping brush?” the words almost get caught in his throat but he fights to get them out, and he’s more proud than he really should be.
“Oh, under the sink!” she tells him, and he makes quick work of finding it before mumbling his ‘thanks’ and rushing back to the safety of his own apartment.
It’s a day he could never forget, even if his memory was normal. And part of him wished he could forget, because he knows that that’s the day he started treating her differently. It wasn’t easy or simple anymore. It was awkward and strange and he had a huge, stupid crush on her.
-- --
It doesn’t take long for her to notice the little changes in his behavior, the way he avoids her in the halls, or always seems to be inexplicably busy whenever she tries to make plans. And on the odd occasion that they do speak he never seems to be able to hold eye contact. It continues like that for a while until she just can’t take it for another second.
She waits until she knows he’s home, staring out the peephole at the door opposite hers until she sees him open it up and walk inside. She gives him about 5 minutes before she marches over and slams her fist against the door, a lot more urgent than necessary.
When he opens the door he looks tired and deflated, and his tie is undone, hanging around his neck. She can see the fatigue leave his features a second later, only to be replaced by a look of pure shock.
“Y/N?” he asks, like he’s not sure she’s really even there.
“Yeah, can I come in?” she asks, but she’s already maneuvering past him and into his living room like she’d done so many times before he’d gotten strange.
“What are you doing here?” he manages to get out once his shock subsides.
“What’s going on with you Spence? We’re best friends until one day you decide you don’t like me? What’s that about, I just have to pretend like I live next door to a stranger now?”
He looks like a deer caught in headlights. She’s not even sure she can see him breathing as his face begins to flush.
“I’m sorry” he breathes out first, “I wasn’t trying to- okay I was avoiding you, but it’s not because I don’t like you”
“Sure seems like it” she sighs, and for a second he looks heartbroken.
“No!” he blurts out, “It’s not that, I swear” he shakes his head, reaching out to touch her before retracting his grip, thinking the better of it.
“Then what is it Spence?” she looks at him with a softness now, with a pleading behind her eyes, and he can’t hold back anymore.
“It’s because I do like you” he says it like he’s relieved, like it had been gnawing at him, “Because I really like you”
“Like me?” she asks, the realization finally dawning. “As in...”
“As in... romantically?” he can’t look at her when he says it, closing his eyes as if he’s bracing for impact. But the next thing he hears is his favorite sound once again. She laughs at him. It’s not cynical, or rude, it’s the kind that’s filled with joy, and maybe just a little exasperation.
“Well I wish you’d’ve told me that sooner” she says once she’s calmed down, and when he opens his eyes she’s smiling at him, taking a step closer.
“You do?”
“Mmhmm” she nods, “That way, I could’ve let you know all about this crush I’ve been harboring on you for a while now.”
He doesn’t have time to think before she’s got her lips on his, soft and delicate against him. For a minute he can’t really understand what’s happening as her hands reach up to cup his face softly, and they stay there after she pulls back. Her thumbs gently grazing his cheekbones as she admires his shocked expression.
“You’ve had a crush on me?” is the first thing he thinks to say, and she nods, smiling up at him.
“Since that first day when you helped me move in” she admits, and the timeline clicks in his head. She’s wanted this longer than he even had. Something about it puts his mind at ease, the though of being desirable to someone like her just makes him swell with pride in a way he’s not even sure he understands.
“Oh” is all he manages to get out though.
“I know, we gotta work on your self confidence because you, Spencer Reid, are a catch” she smiles at him before diving in for their second kiss.
-- --
It’s probably too crass to say out loud, but his favorite part about moving in together is undoubtedly, her daily exercise routine. Sometimes it’s in the morning, sometimes the afternoon, sometimes the evening. He’s actually starting to suspect that she times it for when she knows he’ll be around to see it.
He waited a little while to confess just know much he thought about her in those leggings. The lilac ones that were still in her rotation. Not that he didn’t find her sexy all of the time, he really did. But there was just something, maybe pavlovian, about seeing her in those lilac leggings. The way they hugged her body, he always found himself staring more than he was proud of.
Whatever routine she’s following this morning has her just a little out of breath. And he pretends to be reading the paper at his desk while she pants less than 10 feet away from him. The sound alone is distracting, but when he glances up and he can see her doing squats, all he can focus on is her ass in those fucking leggings.
“8, 9.... 10″ she breathes out, finishing off with a small groan.
“Too hard?” he chuckles, giving in and laying his paper down.
“No way, I can handle it” she turns around to grin at him before turning back around, starting into another set, counting them out slowly.
He seizes the opportunity and gets up out of his chair, making his way quietly over to her while she concentrates on her form. When he’s finally behind her she’s nearly out of breath again, pushing through the last rep when his hand snakes around her waist and pulls her back against him. He leans in to her ear as he whispers.
“C’mon Bunny, I guess you can handle your squats, but can you handle this” he almost moans it as he presses his already hard cock right up against her ass.
“Fuck” she breathes out in a little gasp, her hands moving up into his hair to pull him closer.
“Do you think you can handle it Bunny?” he groans again, grinding himself against her this time.
“Yes! Yes Spencer please, I can take it” she moans out as his hands begin to roam over her body, gently tracing along the exposed skin between her bra and her leggings, feeling the warmth of it.
“Then be a good Bunny and bend over for me, okay?” he growls against her ear and she moves fast, bending over the back of the sofa, and presenting herself to him. He takes a step back to admire the view for a moment before he’s got his hands on her body again. His fingers go straight to the waistband of the leggings, tugging the smooth fabric down, pulling it until it's gathered around her feet, quickly doing the same with her panties until there was nothing in his way.
“Fuck, you look so good like this” he groans, a soft hand caressing the smooth skin of her ass before rising up and coming back down with a loud slap, followed by a high pitched whine from her.
“Did you like that Bunny?” he asks, gripping a rough handful of her ass as she moans out a meek ‘yes’
So he repeats the action, pulling his hand up only to slam it back down again rough and excited against the now sensitive skin.
“Fuck” she purrs, her legs closing, thighs moving together in an attempt to get some friction. But he puts a stop to that right away, placing one of his feet between hers and kicking them apart so her legs were spread for him.
“If you wanted something Bunny, all you had to do was ask” he teases, moving his hand along the curve of her ass until it was hovering between her legs, where she was desperate and wanting. He purposefully lingers just a moment too long before pushing two fingers inside of her. He’s rewarded with a low moan that pours out of her.
“So wet from just a little spanking, you’re so good for me” he groans, “Do you think you can handle my cock yet sweetheart?”
She can’t help the way she clenches and tightens around his fingers at the very thought. It’s not like they didn’t fill her up, they were so much longer and more agile than her own fingers, but nothing could really compare to his cock.
“Fuck, please” she whimpers, wiggling her hips just a little as though that might help convince him that she deserved it.
“Such a good girl, I think you’ve earned it” as he speaks he pulls his fingers gently out of her, and she forces herself not to while at the loss of contact. He pulls his cock out of his boxers, pumping it himself a few times before he lines up behind her. Though they both love this position, she can’t help but miss watching him. The way his eyes close and and he bites his perfect plump bottom lip. But then he’s easing in and the feeling of him is enough to eclipse every other thought in her head.
“Oh god! Spencer!” she stutters out a moan, her hands flying forward to grab at the cushions on the sofa, digging her fingers into the soft down.
“You feel so good Bunny, always so wet for me” he groans as he pushes the whole way in, burying himself right up to the hilt.
His hands make their home on either side of her hips, his grip is tight as he pulls her back against him at the same time that he pushes his hips forward, slamming in on each thrust with everything he’s got.
Hips hit against her ass each time, rocking right up against the quickly forming handprint there whenever their skin collides. The slight burn only intensifying the already overwhelming pleasure.
“So- ah- I’m so close” she manages to moan out in between all the gasps and pants, and without speaking Spencer reaches down to grab the straps at the back of her sports bra, using the leverage to pull her back up. Meeting her halfway he presses his chest right up against her back, one hand snaking around to loosely grip her throat. The other making its way down between her legs.
“Fuck- Spencer- I-” she gasps at his fingers start to run in small circles around her swollen clit, his hips continuing their motions at the same time. All of it building dangerously fast.
“What’s the matter? Too much for you Bunny?” he teases with a groan, right against her ear.
“No!” she rushes out, one of her hands bracing herself against the back of the sofa, the other draping itself loosely over his hand between her legs, encouraging but not interfering with its movements.
“That’s a good girl. Are you gonna cum all over my cock Bunny?”
She doesn’t have time to answer his question before she’s putty in his hands. Melting into his grip as he continues to move inside of her and against her. The only thing keeping her from falling to the ground is her loose grip on the edge of the sofa and Spencers hand around her neck as she moans out his name.
It’s only a few seconds later that his hips begin to stutter and both of his hands are on her hips again, pulling them tight against his own as he grows closer and closer. And then he’s cumming with a rough groan and a bunch of shallow breaths, filling her up entirely as she begins to slump against the sofa once again.
“Spence, fuck” she says with a deep breath, “That was unbelievable”
They’re both covered in a layer of sweat now, and Spencer can feel the hair that’s probably stuck to his forehead. In his exhausted state all he really wants to do is lay down against her back, gathering their breathing again. But he knows that’s just his cloudy mind talking. So he manages to loosen his grip on her hips and pull out slowly before rushing to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth.
He takes it and gently cleans the mess that he made between her legs before it gets the chance to drip down. Once she’s clean he helps her stand upright once again.
Although he’d come a long way with his self confidence there were still times like this where he let himself feel awkward, or unsure. Especially right after he’d just been so bold. But in times like this she knows exactly what to do. Rising up, she places her hands on either side of his face and kisses him, soft and gentle, just for a moment, before pulling back again to look at him.
“Shower?”
-- -- --
Thank you so much for reading x
-- -- --
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heyo !! how about a yelena fic where she’s like badass to everyone except y/n where she’s like super soft? i love your fics btw !!
soft
marvel masterlist | marvel headcanons | navigation
yelena belova x reader
word count: 658 words
a/n: y'all really love yelena, huh? same tho. also, thank you, it really means a lot that y'all even slightly enjoy my writing <3 side note, i might post some bucky today/tomorrow cuz i'm just feeling it yk? anyways, enjoy :)
warnings: none, just hella fluff
requests are open!
You weren't an Avenger. You couldn't harm a fly, you got sad when a leaf didn't crunch after being stepped on, you hated watching horror movies because you would then be forced to wonder whether someone's under the bed or in your closet. Needless to say, it was quite odd that you were dating one of the most dangerous women you could think of. That wasn't saying much though, considering the fact that you knew of very few deadly women.
Nevertheless, you loved your girlfriend, Yelena, and you knew she loved you back. You, however, knew nothing of how she presented herself to everyone else. Everyone was mostly surprised that Yelena would be in a relationship in the first place, not to mention how much you obviously loved her. They would see you visit the complex whenever she was there, sometimes with a plate of some delicious homemade baked goods or maybe pizzas from the best pizzeria in town, and it would make them wonder why you loved her so much when she seemed to not feel the same way. Little did they know the true nature of your relationship.
Yelena's sides only began to show as you visited her more often, all cuddly and lovey just for her. You would notice how some of the other Avengers gawked at you when she pulled you into a big bearhug or how confused they looked whenever they caught her peppering kisses all over your face. You only really learned how the Avengers viewed her when you were caught in a battle with some villain they were currently facing.
You didn't mean to get caught in the midst of such danger. It just happened so quickly that you couldn't get away in time. Yelena saw you from across the battlefield in the city block and had to keep herself from panicking. Seeing you there, in such a dangerous position, gave her such an adrenaline rush that made her forget about everything except for putting the villain down to get you out of there.
Somehow, the fight was over quicker than it had started, mainly because Yelena just moved and moved until it was over. You watched in amazement at how your girlfriend flipped and twirled around, missing every bullet and laser pointed her way. You honestly weren't sure what she did, but you knew it was over when the villain fell to the ground, their only weapon broken beyond the point of repair.
Once the villain was locked away in the back of a SHIELD truck and it drove off, you and Yelena ran to each other, so glad that the other was alive. "Are you alright?" She asked frantically, hoping beyond hope that you weren't hurt.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay. Are you?"
"As long as you're okay, I am too."
You stared into her deep brown eyes for a moment before pressing your lips against hers. This wasn't any regular kiss. It wasn't steamy, but it wasn't simple either. There was so much emotion in this kiss that fueled it and made it so meaningful. It made you happier than words could express to see that she was alright, hence the kiss.
As your lips parted, you leaned your forehead against hers, closing your eyes to savor the moment. You heard her whisper something, likely in Russian, but your ears were ringing too loud for you to hear. Plus, Russian was very much not your strong suit. She pulled away and took your hand in her own, leading you back to the quinjet so you could be away from all the rubble and destruction.
Once you were nearly on the ship, you looked back, hearing someone talking. You saw Steve and Natasha standing side-by-side, watching the strong, cold Yelena they knew soften for you.
"But Yelena worships them?" Steve asked Natasha, honestly confused as to how Yelena's demeanor could change so quickly for you.
"In ways beyond our imagination."
#yelena belova#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova x you#yelena belova imagine#yelena belova fluff#request#mine.
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Hi! I saw that requests are open, if it's not a problem could i request Satan reacting to MC coming to him with new books every time they hang out because they want him to read them out loud since they have a short attention span? Like, Satan would be reading said book while MC is drawing or doing something else.
I have adhd and reading books that are not digital is a nightmare for me, so him reading out loud would be pretty relaxing.
Btw it's up to you if you wanna do headcanons or a oneshot!
ABSOLUTELY!!! So this is actually my first request and I'm super excited because as someone who also has ADHD I can totally relate! I hope you like it!
Too Still, Too Quiet
GN!MC with ADHD Summary: Satan notices that MC seems to have a hard time hanging out with him; he's determined to get to the bottom of the issue and find a solution.
After living in the House of Lamentation for nearly a year, you've grown accustomed to the many quirks that came with living with the seven Lords of the Devildom. You had gotten close to the brothers, and as they picked up on your symptoms for your ADHD, they each found their own ways of being helpful. Lucifer had always known, as it was written on your file, and made a point of sending you subtle reminders throughout the day to keep you organized and on task. He brushed it off saying that it merely prevented him from having to go after you later on if you forgot or did something incorrectly. Mammon was no stranger to having a hard time prioritizing and staying focused and took pride in lending you some of the different tools he used to fidget with. After all, his human deserved the best, and you couldn’t get any better than using something that belonged to the great Mammon. Leviathan’s room provided a relaxing atmosphere with just enough stimulation to keep your brain satisfied enough to focus on your school work and tasks. The sounds of the aquarium provided a fantastic back ground noise, and Levi always took caution in wearing his headphones when he gamed if you were working in his room to not add to the distractions around you. Asmodeus had a good eye for when you were growing too frustrated by the regular chaos that tended to fill the House of Lamentation and would pull you aside to his room for some self-care to help calm you down. There was nothing like a head message and face mask from Asmo as he happily gossiped about the latest drama in The Fall to help ground you. Beelzebub, on the other hand, was great at noticing when you were starting to grow restless. In those moments, he’d not-so-subtly state that he was heading to the gym and it’d sure be nice if he had someone to join in before very obviously making eye contact with you. At first you had a hard time figuring out a good balance between a work out that satisfied Beel while also not killing you. But now the two of you easily worked with each other until you were both sweating, smiling, and happy. He also made sure to remind you to eat through out the day whenever you went to a round of hyper-fixation on something. Belphegore wasn’t particularly helpful when it came to your forgetful spells or disorganization as, being the Avatar of Sloth, he would normally encourage such behavior. Instead, he did what he did best, and helped put your wandering mind to ease whenever you were trying to sleep. The only person, and not for a lack of trying, that you just couldn’t seem to find a flow with was Satan.
He was too quiet and organized for you to be able to stand being around him for long periods of time. You had tried hanging out with him a couple of times, but after a few minutes of him silently reading or him explaining whichever text he was currently studying, you would grow restless and distracted. Which brought you to your current situation. Satan had invited you to come relax in his room with him, as the rest of his brothers were dealing with the aftermath of their most recent dilemma. It wasn’t so bad at first, some light conversation here, some banter there, but soon your mind started to wander off to the spines of the endless books around you as you pondered on what might be inside them. “MC?” Your attention snapped back onto Satan, who stood frowning at you. You blushed and scratched the back of your neck. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a little distracted. What were you saying?” Satan sighed as his frown deepened. “I’ve noticed that tends to happen a lot with you. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He quickly amended raising his hands in defense. “But it seems particularly bad when you’re with me. You get quite jittery and I don’t think you’ve ever stayed in my room longer than ten minutes,” for a second his eyes almost looked sad as he looked over at you, “Is it something I’m doing? Do I make you uncomfortable?” “No! Satan, no, it’s not you I promise!” You quickly reassured moving closer to him. “It’s just well I have a hard time staying still and focusing on things and when it gets too quiet it bothers me because then my brain is like hyper fixating on the smallest noises in the room, even though I’m supposed to be focusing on what you’re saying or my work, and it’s like, is that a page a turning or a something scratching at the door and then I start wondering about what kind of things could be in here and-” “MC.” Satan cut off, though he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, his eyes now gleamed with a sense of understanding. “Do you happen to have ADHD?” “Yeah, I thought you all knew? Lucifer told all of you when I arrived right? That’s why everyone is so-” you moved your hand in a vague gesture that even you weren’t entirely sure what it was meant to symbolize. Satan huffed and shook his head. “Lucifer did no such thing. I imagine he would’ve told us if it came to be a big enough problem. But you know him. He takes pride in being the only one to know certain things. “ You frowned and tilted your head in confusion. “But then what about the others? They’ve all been helping me out for months now.” Satan placed a hand under his chin in thought, “They most likely took note of individual symptoms and decided to help. Belphegore, and possibly even Leviathan and Asmodeus may have put two and two together, but the rest probably think you’re just forgetful or that you’re restless,” he smiled reassuringly at you, “but that’s besides the point. Now that I know, I can help make you feel more at ease when you’re with me. What’s the main issue that you-” “It’s too quiet!” You quickly cut off, causing Satan to raise an eyebrow. “When we’re in here relaxing and you’re just reading and I’m supposed to be reading too, it’s too quiet. I try to focus on the book, but my mind keeps jumping around to other things. And I want to read all those books you’ve recommended to me, I really do, but I start feeling bored after a little while and next thing I know I jumping sentences without noticing and then I’ve gone an entire chapter with no recollection of what I’ve just read because I wasn’t really paying attention to the words at all I was just flipping pages without realizing it, so I have to go back and re-read the whole thing all over again!” You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “Is exhausting and makes me feel dumb, so I get up and do something else instead.” Satan nodded, taking in every word carefully. “Well first of all,” you yelped as he flicked your forehead. “Ouch! What was that for?!” The demon smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “For calling yourself dumb. Just because you have more difficulty with literature than others, does not mean you’re dumb. You simply require a different reading strategy than what most consider “usual”, and I believe I have a solution that would suit both of us,” you perked up at his words. “I recommended those books to you because I greatly enjoyed them myself. How about, when you’re here, you can choose a book you want to read, and I will read it out loud for you? That should help, yes?” A light airy warmth filled your chest at just how accommodating Satan was willing to be. “But what about the books that you were reading?” The demon shrugged, “I can always read them in my spare time.” He moved closer to take your hands into his, silently demanding your full attention. “I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I want you to be comfortable and be able to be yourself when you’re around me without feeling stressed. This is honestly the least I could do for you, MC.” Blushed rushed to your cheeks as you felt your heart flutter in your chest. You awkwardly cleared your throat and took your hands back, rubbing them on your legs as you noted how clammy they were. “I think I-I would like that a lot” The grin on Satan’s face widened as he took one of your hands and lead you deeper into the bookshelves of his room. “Splendid! Then why don’t we get try right away? Take you pick, MC, I will be your narrator for the evening and for as long as you wish.” ***** I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for! It is a little short, but I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the request, I loved it! Requests are OPEN and I would definitely love to complete some more if anyone has any ideas or prompts that they’d like me to complete. Just send in an ask and, if I feel comfortable with it, I’ll do my best to make a fic for it!
#shall we date obey me#obey me fic#OBEY ME#obey me satan#gender neutral main character#gn!mc#fanfic#fan fic#request#requests are open#b answers#🐝 answers#my writing#adhd#adhd mc#shall we date satan#soft satan#soft fic#Urgh how do I tag?#I can't remember
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Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: M for mature. Blood, more blood, heavy language, seriously lots of blood. Literally the bloodiest/most detailed thing I've written. Genre: Super angst with some fluff to ease the pain. We're talking putting honey in your cup of poison to make it taste better. The ending is split, with both a happy and a sad ending. Warnings: Minor surgery (technically?) while the patient is fully awake (that's the reader, btws), blood loss, graphic depiction of a wound and how said wound is taken care of. Possible trigger for self-harm, as the reader is performing part of the surgery themselves. Also brief mention of cannibalism in the bad ending. This may very well be a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat sort of thing. Notes: While I have more medical knowledge than the average person, due to my Girl Scouts training + having a mother as a nurse, I am in no way shape or form a medical professional, and do not suggest that the methods of treatment used in this fic be taken seriously. If you find yourself seriously injured, do not attempt to replicate anything you read here. Only a portion of this is based on a real-ass incident I went through, the rest is based on a dream, and what I experienced was not what you want to do in an emergency.
{Wounded Love}
This was a mistake. Blood stains your leg, your fingers, and bruises start to form all over your exhausted body. And for what? Why had you, a tiny, fragile human, dared to pass through this damned, lycan-infested forest? Because a woman who didn’t even love you asked you to. Now you were going to die, body certain to get left out in the cold or reduced to a pile of gnawed bones. If you had more strength remaining, you might have slammed your hand into the ground in frustration, or screamed until your lungs burned from something other than frost.
But that wouldn’t get you anywhere. Wouldn’t help you get back to the castle, wouldn’t ease the racing of your heart. So you settle for the only thing that might do any good: One quick motion pulls the scarf from your neck, sending a chill down your spine that you promptly ignore. Even with shaky hands and numb fingers, your experience is enough to let you wrap the cloth around your leg, tying the ends in a knot to secure it. The pressure hurts, just not enough for you to prefer bleeding out. A test step reveals that walking is mildly more difficult now.
“I’m going to haunt her,” you muse, under your breath, tears starting to freeze at the corner of your eyes. Still, you are as quietly determined as ever, and so once more you limp down the path. Every time you put weight on your injured leg it protests harder. If not for the snow and ice covering the ground, you might have quickly searched for a walking stick. “What could be so important about this damn package? Couldn’t Doug or whatever-his-fucking-name-is deliver it? Man can practically teleport, and here I am, watching as blood loss and hypothermia race to see who can kill me first.”
Gods were you angry. Why had this happened so soon after you had settled in? Finally you had been comfortable in Castle Dimitrescu, no longer as frightened of the residents, even finding them… charming, in a way. Then the Lady of house called to you for what she claimed to be a simple errand. You had believed her, even when she explained that you would have to leave the relative safety of her home. What a fool you had been.
“What a fool she must be,” you murmur, “to think me safe here. To think I could outlast wolfmen prowling the village outskirts.” Would she even care if she saw you now? Would she be surprised, disappointed? Would she do something to change your fate? There was no reason for her to do so. It didn’t matter how much you had helped her, how much she claimed to appreciate what you did (heavy lifting, repair of clothing, massages). You were as replaceable as any other Maiden there was. And that, that was what made you have a double-take. It came to you in that moment, a thought so painful that you could not deny it was the truth. “She never thought I would survive.”
Bitterness coats your tongue, like blood in your throat, and your brain demands that you destroy your cargo, the very thing that got you sent here in the first place. You almost do it. Feet stopping, arms shrugging the carrying straps off, bloody hands taking hold of it. Tears fall, just two, and hit the package. At that moment your plan changed. This new idea would be far, far more satisfying… as long as you succeeded.
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Spite was one hell of a drug. Enough of it and you could march your warm corpse right back to the castle, fist banging on the front door with everything you had. The path had been shorter than you thought, thankfully, but it had still taken so much out of you. Now you were leaning against the door, sliding down it, unable to support your own weight. Nothing inside the castle stirred. Were they ignoring you? Was Alcina really going to let you die inches from your “home”? Fuck that, you thought.
“Alcina!” You scream, loud as you can, startling the birds in the distant trees. The word echoes around you and rattles inside your ribs. It’s not enough. “Damn it, I am seconds away from dying, get out here now so I can look you in your fucking eyes!” Something tears a little in your throat, turning the last of your words into a hellish screech, leaving you to gasp and croak in the snow. You go to wipe your tear-filled eyes with your hands, only to remember just how much blood they’re covered in.
Sobs overtake you in just a few moments. You’re blinded by tears, deafened by sorrows, and numb from all the cold. In the aching seconds before you black out, you can only barely make out the silhouette of someone rushing to your side…
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The first thing you feel when you wake up is mind searing pain. You try to jolt upwards, only to find a pair of strong, gloved hands holding you down. Someone shouts something, but you can’t make it out, and you feel another hand gently squeeze one of your own. Pained gasps escape your throat one after the other, but whatever is hurting you doesn’t stop. It takes a full minute for you to adjust enough to make sense of where you are. At last, you understand what’s being said.
“-it��s okay, shhh, please, we’re trying to help,” says none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. She’s the one holding your hand, doing her best not to hurt you with her grip, trying desperately to calm you down. One the other side of you, Cassandra is positioned to hold you down. There’s a tight-lipped scowl on her face, and her brow is furrowed, but she’s not looking at your face, but rather eying somewhere in the opposite direction. Following her gaze, you find her older sister is sitting near your injured leg, and is undeniably the source of some of your pain. In one hand she holds a bottle of alcohol (notably not the wine her family produces), the other holding a wet cloth to your wound. No wonder it stings so much.
“Shit, shit, stop,” you growl, barely getting the words out. But all anyone does is look at you. Alcina’s mouth opens to speak, only for you to cut her off. “I’ve got medical training, for the love of Mother Miranda let me help! How long have I been unconscious?” This time Bela stops, glancing at her mother for direction. The grip on your torso grows looser, with Cassandra evidently heeding your words, and you take the chance to sit up, careful not to move your leg. At this point you realize that there’s a needle of sorts in your arm, attached to a tube, which trails up into a blood bag. It’s clearly been improvised with equipment from the “wine-making” part of the castle.
“Fifteen minutes at most,” a new voice chimes, from somewhere behind you. “I got that cloth you wanted, mother, but something tells me I’m not done fetching things.” Ah, Daniela Dimitrescu. Was the whole family helping you?... Why? As much as you wanted answers, there wasn’t (currently) time for questions. Not when one glance at your leg tells you that some of your flesh is rapidly decomposing. The wound was made only an hour ago, and already it was getting deadlier than you could even process.
“I need a sharp, clean knife, a needle with thread, a glass of water, and someone needs to put a metal tool, sterilized, on the stove, right now,” you said, finding it easier to talk now that no one was cleansing your wound. Without hesitation Daniela dispersed into a cloud of insects, heading towards the kitchen, while Cassandra stood up and moved towards the stairs.
“Guess I’ll get the needle,” she said, sounding rather unenthusiastic.
“What are you planning?” Alcina asks, more concerned than you had ever heard her before. Attempting to reassure her, you manage a small smile before explaining.
“Got scratched and slobbered on by a lycan. Whatever they have, it’s infectious. If I want to save my leg, or at least have a chance at surviving, I have to take measures to reduce the likelihood of an infection,” you say. Now Alcina is slowly stroking her thumb across your hand, eyes narrowed with concern. There’s a look on her face that you can’t quite parse, something she’s not saying. For now you ignore it and continue going over your plan. “The best thing would be to amputate. The tourniquet might have helped prevent the saliva from getting further into my body- and I do mean might- but I can’t keep it on forever. Problem is… I don’t want to lose it. God, I’m terrified of that, and with what we have in the castle I… I’d be more likely to die of shock than not. So, well, forget that idea.
“I’m just going to remove the wound. By making a bigger wound. It’s crazy, I know, but this will kill me if we do nothing. It will probably kill me if we do. The technical term is some shit like ‘de-bride-ing’?... No, debridement, I think. Except normally the poor fucker getting cut open is asleep for the procedure.” By the time you’re done, Lady Dimitrescu is looking at you with horror. Yeah, you had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the idea. “Look, if this is too much… if it’s not worth saving me, if you’d rather give me a quick death, I understand. If I were-”
“Don’t be foolish, dear. You will not die, not as long as something can be done about it,” Alcina replies, quickly, eager to stop hearing you talk about dying. It’s… strange to hear her sound so confident about saving you, even stranger to realize what she called you. As if reading your thoughts, she shifts in her seat, avoiding your gaze for a moment. Shyness didn’t suit her, and you imagined it was more about her finding the right words. When she speaks, she’s looking right at you again. “I have hesitated to tell you the truth, and now I find the world playing a cruel trick on me, trying to take that which I adore. But I don’t want to aggravate your stress right now. Please, think nothing of what I have said.”
Before you could reply, footsteps reached your ears, and soon enough Daniela returns. In one hand she holds a large pitcher of water. In the other? Several knives, of various sizes, one of which you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Cassandra playing with before. As soon as you see her your face lights up, glad to be able to start the procedure.
“Oh thank fuck- or, I mean, thank you, Lady Daniela,” you stutter, reaching out as she offers you the items. Thankfully Bela had already made room on the table at your side, where she had set the bottle of alcohol down. For a moment you had forgotten that she was there. Had she already known about her mother’s feelings? Based on her lack of reaction, you could only assume that she was well aware. “I’m gonna scream, B-T-dubs. Just, uh, cover your ears?” You offer, already holding your chosen knife (big enough to be effective, small enough to offer precision).
“So… you’re going to do this yourself? Didn’t think you had it in you, red. Try not to cut anything important. Wouldn’t want to have to clean that mess up,” Daniela teases. As soon as she’s finished she has to shift into a swarm, as Bela flat out throws a knife at her. For a moment you freeze, watching as Alcina rises to her full height, staring her eldest daughter down. Behind her, Daniela reforms, clearly using her mother as a shield. “I was just trying to relieve the tension, jeez. It’s like you think she’s already dead.”
“Don’t speak another word!” Alcina snaps, sending a frightening stare towards Daniela. You cough, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Meanwhile Bela is pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, clearly tired of dealing with her sister’s sense of humor. “No one will speak a word until this is finished, unless my dear needs something, understood?” Both the girls nod at that, neither feeling a need to risk any further ire.
“I’m just going to start working now,” you awkwardly chime, taking a deep breath before leaning in towards your injured leg. On closer inspection you can see a strange, dark residue in the wound. They’re specks, scattered along the length of it, and they seem more common the closer you look to the gash’s center. Gross, you think. Half curious, half checking for legitimate reasons, you bring your other hand to the cut and gently spread both sides apart. It hurts like hell, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming. But sure enough, the residue is practically solid at the deepest point of the wound. “Those lycans really should be on leashes.”
Out of the corner of your eye you can see Daniela exchange looks with Bela, but neither of them disobey their mother (yet). Shaking the thought away, you finally get to the brunt of the task at hand. Your hand moves slowly, reluctant to inflict such damage against its own body. As soon as the tip of the knife touches your skin, you start to doubt your ability to do this. It takes looking at Alcina, seeing the way she watches you with equal parts concern and tenderness, to remind you why you’re doing this. Death just wasn’t something you could accept right now; not after what she had said, what she had implied.
The knife is fantastically sharp. Hardly any pressure is needed before your flesh gives away, cells letting go of their neighbors like it was a casual affair. You start at the left side of your injury, digging down a little, trying to only go as deep as you needed to. Tears formed in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. As the first of many screams leaves your mouth, you turn and twist the knife, cutting to the right, then up. Like scooping the seeds out of a pumpkin. Fresh blood springs from the wound, starting to fill up the crevice. Quickly you discard the skin you removed by tossing it into the same bowl that Bela had put a bloody towel in earlier.
“Yes,” you shudder through gritted teeth, “this hurts so fucking bad. No, I don’t need someone to take over yet.” At this point neither of the present sisters are looking at you, seeming oddly uncomfortable at the sight of you cut up like this. Hadn’t they done worse to your fellow Maidens?... Whatever, the thought couldn’t last long when you still had work to do.
Next you take a fresh, damp cloth and dab at your injury, ignoring how it throbbed beneath your touch. Then you resumed cutting, forced to press the knife deeper in order to remove the spreading residue. If you had been a scientist, this would have been utterly fascinating to observe. Whatever had been in the lycan’s saliva was slowly eating at your flesh, but not outright dissolving it. No, it simply left the skin where it was, but killed and rapidly broke it down. Yes, it would have been fascinating, if not for the fact that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to outpace the bacteria.
With this in mind you force yourself to hold in your next scream, hoping to make it easier for you to focus. The knife continued to cut, going lower, setting nerves alight as it did. Your vision starts to blur, and for a few seconds you think you’re going to black out. Someone says something you don’t hear, and then suddenly there’s a hand on top of your own. When your vision clears you see Bela is responsible, her grip keeping you from dropping the knife. She doesn’t let go until you give her a clear nod. Even then, she seems reluctant to let you continue.
Around this time is when Cassandra returns. Her footsteps catch your attention (it’s your understanding that carrying objects is much harder in swarm mode), and you spare her a quick glance before getting back to work. A few moments later she’s placing a set of needles and a long spool of thread next to you. Ironically, they’re the same tools that you’ve used to repair and adjust Alcina’s dresses over the past year. Hopefully they work just as well on flesh, you think. Your next thoughts are canceled out by unbelievable pain. More cries leave your lips, and your hand starts shaking. Panic is settling in fast, your movements getting sharper, leading you to make a brash decision: Time to care less about precision and more about speed.
“Distract me, please,” you gasp between grunts. No one responds at first, and you know they need clarification. Speaking is getting harder by the second, but you do your best. “Brain can’t process many stimulants, same time. Just- fuck- trace skin around wound, touch hair, anything.” Somewhere between your semi-broken sentences and screams, Alcina gets the message. She’s moving closer, now, behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other rubbing gentle circles on your undamaged leg. Across from you Daniela is too busy pacing to help, though you can hardly blame her.
“Should I get the metal thing from the stove?” Cassandra asks, silently hoping that Dani hadn’t assumed someone else was going to handle that part. You’re still in too much pain to talk, so you half nod half grunt in response. Not bothering to say anything, the middle child takes off, swarm moving at what might be a new speed record.
As much as your hands are shaking, you still manage to cut away another strip of flesh, tossing it aside with even less care than before. This time Bela wipes the wound for you, practically reading your mind. The moment her hands are completely out of the way you start cutting again, crying out, throat shredded to pieces from all your screaming. Alcina sounds like she might be close to sobbing, but she doesn’t stop her movements, doing her best to distract you just like you had asked. Even Bela helps, now, tracing spots around your injury whenever she knows she won’t be in your way. The effect is minor, in the end, hardly making a dent in how much pain you’re processing.
If you survive this, though, you’re hugging every daughter as tight as you can and showering them with affection… but only after you finish doing the same for their mother.
“You are so brave,” Alcina murmurs next to your ear. It’s even clearer now how close she is to crying, her voice seconds away from cracking. Hearing her like this almost hurts as bad as the initial lycan attack did. “You are so strong. No other mortal could ever be your match. Do you understand, my dear? You are blessed, divine, and I love you so much.”
In any other setting, her words would leave you melting in her arms, radiating affection so strongly that you might as well have been radioactive. Instead, you are unable to respond, or even look her way. All you can do is press the knife to your skin again, showing your own feelings by destroying yourself for her.
The blade is starting to find more resistance, and you’re having to pause more often, spots appearing in your vision. Going faster only makes things worse, your hand threatening to slip. You’re determined to finish this, no matter what, but your need to control the situation is gradually making things worse. Alcina notices this before you do, and acts before you have a chance to protest.
“Bela, the knife,” she says, then tightens her grip on your waist. Your confusion shifts to panic as your arm is carefully, but forcefully, pulled away from your wound. “Can you finish the job?” It takes you a few moments to realize that Alcina isn’t talking to you. No, she’s speaking to her eldest daughter, who doesn’t hesitate to take the knife away from you. It’s so easy for her, between her strength and your weakness. “Don’t struggle. Let us finish this.”
Protests rise from your throat and die in your mouth. Pain flares harder now that Bela isn’t distracting you. Once more your vision goes dark, but this time there’s no pause, no hesitation. You are suffering, horribly, and the Dimitrescu family refuses to make you hurt longer than necessary. It’ll be over soon, you think, not knowing whether you refer to your pain or your life itself.
Something wet drops onto the back of your neck, then darkness overtakes you…
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“Damn those lycans, I should string Heisenberg up myself! They’re his responsibility, after all,” Lady Dimitrescu snarls, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes. Now that you’re unconscious, unable to hear what ails her, she feels free to voice her thoughts. “The damn things should never have come close to the path to the village.”
“What if she strayed from the path? Wouldn’t that explain it?” Bela suggests, even as her hands work to remove what seems to be the last piece of dead/infected flesh from your leg. She hates how the words feel in her mouth, hates suggesting that you of all people might have betrayed her mother’s trust. But it makes sense. After all, this whole mess, with you leaving the castle to retrieve a mysterious package, was all a test to see if you would try to run. It hadn’t been her idea, and Bela admitted to herself that she thought it was unnecessary.
“On the way back? Why would she bother getting the package if she intended to run?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, right as Cassandra returns. The middle child is practically juggling the metal spatula she’s carrying, irritated (not harmed) by the heat it produced. One of her brows perks up when she hears the conversation, but she keeps any thoughts she has to herself.
“Just a thought, mother, I didn’t quite believe it myself,” Bela chimes, after a pause. With that said she holds up her hand with pride, clutching between her fingers the last of the decaying flesh. The way the others react, one might have thought that a miracle had been performed. Daniela clapped her hands together, giggling a little, and finally stopped her pacing. “Don’t celebrate too much, now,” Bela reminded her, taking the spatula from Cassandra as she did. “There’s still plenty to do. It’s a good thing she’s not awake for this part.”
A good thing, indeed. She uses her fingers to spread the remaining skin a little, giving a quick examination, then deciding that she had successfully removed all remaining residue. Keeping her fingers where they were, she pressed the side of the spatula to your skin, putting the most pressure at the center of the wound. Three seconds passed, then she lifted her hand. A pause. She pressed it back into place, keeping a close eye on the affected area. This repeated several times, the gaps being necessary to prevent unintentional damage. Once the wound seemed properly closed she set the spatula aside.
“Is that it?... Did we save her?” Daniela asks, opting to finally sit down in a nearby chair. Something about her word choice makes both of her sisters scoff.
“I could sew it closed, as a precaution, but there’s no way I’d do it the way she had intended. It might be best to just give her time to rest, and see what she thinks when she gets back up,” Bela answers. For a moment her words hang in the air, but eventually Alcina gives a little nod and a hum.
“Very well. I shall carry her to my quarters, where she won’t be disturbed. Please, let one of the Maidens know to bring some food up this evening,” Alcina says, gently taking you into her arms as she does…
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BAD ENDING: It’s been six hours, with no sign of you waking up. Your other wounds had been examined, cleaned, and bandaged. Food had been carefully prepared and brought up to you, though it now remained on the bedside table, untouched. Alcina has gone to call Mother Miranda, intending to speak to her about the growing unrest of the lycans, as Heisenberg hadn’t answered his phone. For the first time since you returned you are alone. It is now, of all times, that you awaken. A gasp sends you into a coughing spree, forcing you into a sitting position. The space around you feels like it's moving, and your vision blurs. Blood spills from your mouth as you finally regain the ability to breathe.
Seconds later your vision clears, but what you see is enough to make you wish you couldn’t. The blood that spilled onto the sheets is a dark red… with even darker spots scattered throughout it. All at once you know what happened: Residue had hidden from you, or gone deeper than your wound, infecting you before you ever stood a chance. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but something deeper starts calling to you. Something older. Darker. It drags you to your feet, ignores the pain of your wounds, and sends you out the bedroom door.
Your mind is racing, thoughts never quite clear enough for you to understand. It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of your own movements. Was something else in charge, or were you operating on an infection powered autopilot? Answers weren’t coming, just bloodshed.
“You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet!” A voice calls out to you, making you turn to investigate. On the other end of the hallway is a maiden, one you instantly recognize. You’ve worked with her before, plenty of times, tag-teaming more tasks than you could count. She was like a sister to you. When she sees the blood staining your clothes, she gasps, then moves to support you. “Please, Lady Dimitrescu will be so upset if you-” her words melt into a blood curdling scream. For a moment you don’t understand.
And then you swallow, a chunk of hot meat slipping down your throat, and the scream dies down.
“What?...” You whisper, finally tasting the blood in your mouth, watching as your friend’s body falls to the floor. There’s a chunk of flesh missing from her neck, and the dots connect themselves in your head. You did that. Every part of you wants to scream, wants to cry out and beg someone to come kill you. Instead you fall to your knees, hard, uncaring. Your hands move themselves, grasping at the still warm corpse. Something has made you stronger, or at the very least removed the mental limits that kept you from destroying yourself. Flesh gives under your touch, tearing like paper, and you start crying as it reaches your mouth.
Footsteps approach, thundering fast, and you want to warn whoever it is. When you turn to look, you feel your hands let go of your meal. Your gaze meets that of a stunned Cassandra Dimitrescu, then drifts to the sickle in her hand.
“Kill me,” you growl, voice distorted, practically echoing. “Kill me now!” Not needing to be told a third time, Cassandra moves lightning quick, swarm-jumping forward before manifesting behind you, sickle dragging across your throat in one smooth motion. But it’s not enough. She realizes this, though, and slams her foot into your back, sending you tumbling forward. It’s enough to prevent you from countering, which gives her time to advance again, this time pulling a knife from her boot and driving it into the center of your back. When you scream, it’s not with your own voice, but that of a monster.
“Fucking fuck, what the fuck, red?” Daniella asks as she rounds the corner, eyes immediately landing on your bloodsoaked mouth. She’s quick to take in the scene, drawing a conclusion easily, even if it breaks her heart a little. Your vision fades as she approaches, and you know that it’s finally over. If only you had expired a few seconds earlier… because the last thing you hear is the startled cry of your would-be lover.
“No! No, darling, what happened-” Alcina finishes her sentence, but you do not hear it. You do not hear anything, anymore. You do not know it… but there will be hell to pay for your death.
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GOOD ENDING: When you awake, you find yourself in the softest sheets you’ve ever touched, a warm and familiar presence next to you. The first thing you see is Alcina’s sleeping face next to your own. She’s on her side, one arm around your waist, the covers pulled up to her hip. Warmth fills your chest as you take in the sight. For a few moments you just… appreciate this. Never before had you imagined that you would get to wake up next to the woman you loved so much. A sigh, one of bliss, leaves your lips. Slowly you move forward, gently placing a kiss to Alcina’s cheek. Seconds later her eyelids flutter open, and she tiredly takes you in.
“You’re… awake,” she murmurs, hardly awake herself. But her fatigue doesn’t last long. As soon as she’s fully processed the situation her eyes go wide. Then she’s pulling you closer, careful not to hurt you, and peppering little kisses over your face. “I’ve been so worried, dear. You scared us so much.” The hurt in her voice leaves you restless, making you curl up against her, desperate to soothe her worries. Moving hurts a little, but not enough to dissuade you from your goal.
“I’m sorry, love,” you say, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m okay, I’m alive, the plan worked out. You don’t have to fret for me anymore. I won’t leave you, I promise.” Slowly but surely, Alcina calms, exchanging kisses for softly running her fingers through your hair. There’s such love in her eyes that you can hardly believe you aren’t dreaming. “You’re amazing, Alcina. I could stay like this all day.”
“Maybe we should,” she offers, chuckling a little. Once again you give her a quick kiss, unable to resist the urge. “I should have never asked you to leave. I should have just trusted you.” The words give you pause, and you tilt your head in confusion. Realizing that you still didn’t know the full story, Alcina frowns. “The package is worthless, just a bundle of straw and a few rocks for weight. It was never what I cared about.”
Tension builds in your chest, and for a few seconds you have no idea how to react. It takes a minute for you to think, to connect the dots, but once you do it’s a tad bit easier to breathe. A scowl twists your lips as you think of what to say.
“If I had known that Heisenberg was forgoing his duties, I never would have sent you outside,” Alcina adds, the silence taking its toll on her.
“You shouldn’t have sent me either way,” you respond, bitterly, thinking of all that you had seen and heard on your journey. “I would have done anything to prove to you how I feel. There are other ways to show devotion- far less dangerous ways, at that.”
“I know, dear. You have every right to be angry… and watching you suffer has taught me all that I need to know,” Alcina says, still playing with your hair, trying to ease the tension. As upset as you about this recent revelation… it’s not enough to change how you feel about her, and you want her to understand that, fully and completely.
So you lean into her touch, let your eyes drift close for a moment, then softly place one of your arms around her as best as you can.
“We’ll need to talk about this more… just not right now. Right now, I need you, Alcina. I need to hold you, and be held by you, and just know that you’re here. That I’m here. That neither of us are going anywhere,” you say, resting your forehead against hers. “I need to feel safe, and your arms are the safest place I can imagine. Stay here with me?”
“It will be the easiest thing I have ever done.”
#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#alcina x reader#lady dimitrescu x reader#tw blood#tw self harm#tw cannibalism#blood blood blood oops#I wrote this instead of sleeping because my hands cannot be stopped#typeity type type type#sorry if the formatting is off#i'm trying the new editor or whatever#if it's fucked I'll fix it whenever I wake up
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[May contain angst, contains mild violence, a total fake scenario because DIOVOLO WOULD NEVER ALLOW this to happen]
For a few weeks now, some witches were giving MC a hard time. MC didn't quite understand why, but if they had to guess it was because of their living arrangement. MC never paid it any mind until one night when they were walking to the House of Lamentation after some errands alone. MC was jumped by 3 of them and roughed up a bit. One witch was so annoyed with MC's demeanor that they went too far and broke MC's arm. MC, not wanting any more trouble would decide to go to Purgatory Hall and ask for help.
💋Lucifer💋
-He got a phone call from Simeon, stating that they had to take MC for medical care for a broken arm.
-Didnt even give an explanation where he was going, but he rushed out of the house to be with MC.
-Was a composed mess; he was worried, angry and protective of MC.
-when questioned about how it happened, MC lied and he knew it.
-"Oh I just tripped and fell on my arm is all." Was not the explanation he believed.
-why would MC lie about this? He had to know.
-he would ask maybe a few more times then left MC alone. He knew he could find out more on his own anyways.
-as far as aiding MC, a perfect gentleman.
-Opens doors, holds bags, even does MC's chores if they were struggling.
-He felt so guilty for this that he would not leave MC's side for a minute...but it would be more comforting than overstepping.
-would be the one to make sure MC did everything they had to heal.
-"Don't forget to take your medicine. Do you need some water? Let me get it."
-"You are not suppose to prop anything on that arm...let me hold it."
-Would stop the brothers dead in their tracks if they tried to do anything that would require MC to do anything physical.
-He would be the type to not actually sign MC's cast, but he would wait until they were alone and draw a little heart in a place only MC could see
-He also low key had been suspicious about what happened and follows MC around to "observe".
-When he does find out what happens....well let's just say those who wronged MC will regret it deeply.
💰Mammon💰
-He might have been out gambling or something when he got the call about MC.
-run boy run
-His first reaction would be frustration of course
-"How could you let this happen??? Humans are too fragile and you need to be more careful!"
-would have never crossed his mind that MC lied about it.
-MC falls a lot, story checks out in his mind.
-Feral Protection Goblin.
-He refused to leave MC's side even for a second.
-He would carry bags and open doors, but Mammon being himself would do it in a very feral goblin way
-VERY protective. Like, No one was allowed to even look at MC without himself shooting a glare back.
-more worried about MC than what was going on around him.
-Absolutly the one to forget about meds
-signs his name IN BIG LETTERS on MC's cast
-May God have mercy on those witches that did this to MC when Mammon finds out what really happened.
🎮Leviathan🎮
-Most likely ignored Simeon's call, but would read his text.
-He does not like to leave his room often, but he will go to pick MC up with little hesitation.
-he will asked what happened, but ultimately he does not care since he can't stop it now.
-poor thing would be too scared to touch MC TBH.
-this reminds him how delicate humans were and he didn't want to make things worse.
-he would be more clingy without making contact.
-for the most part he did anything MC asked, only if they asked tho.
-was actually stoked that MC could actually spend time playing games or watching anime with him since they could not do too much physical labor.
-he would enjoy having quality time like this, but be upset it had to be this way.
-"It's annoying that you can only play games with me when you break a bone. You can come anytime you want you know."
-He would be the first one to sign the cast. Who knows, he might just doodle all over it
-lets say he overheard someone bragging about what they did to MC [since he is the quiet one no demon suspects him to be listening]
-he finds out what really happened...big mad
-seconds from summoning Lotan in the school
-then he finds out *who* did it
-pays each witch involved a visit and summons Lotan in each home
📚Satan📚
•he was simply reading when he got the call
•there he go, faster than light
•he would greet MC with in interrogation
•"MC what happened?"
•"Did someone do this to you?"
•"Where/when did this happen?"
•"You are FAR from 'okay'!"
•MC would just dodge any question regarding what had happened...MC knew that Satan was too smart to fall for one of their lies
•Satan does not know much about broken human bones...but by the next morning he became an expert.
•He would go about this a lot like Lucifer, but in a more emotional way.
•Satan had become more protective of MC and refused to let them do anything too physical.
•he would follow MC around, making sure they did all the right things, carry bags, open doors, ya know the whole deal.
•took extra time with MC during study time and bed time.
•"I brought your meds...here is some water as well."
•med police
•would draw a cat on their cast
•He loves to read to MC as they fall asleep.
•if he were to find out what actually happened [which he would a lot faster than Lucifer btw] oh no
•oh no
•oh no no no no no
•might as well write those witches obituaries cuz THEY GONE
💋Asmodeus💋
•Picks the phone with Simeon and starts to flirt first off
•as mush as Simeon would love to entertain this, he let's Asmo know that MC had to be taken to get medical care
•Asmodeus rushes to go collect MC.
•he would understand MC was hurt, and at first he would play it off as shit just happens
•especially when MC lied about how it happened
•Honestly he would be low key scared and high key protective
•The one he loved the most [other than himself] was hurt!
•Obsessed with taking good care of MC.
•other than Lucifer, would be the best at making sure MC was taking good care of themselves to heal 🌟Beautifully🌟
•"MC~♡ let's take a break. Come and sit for a while"
•"use this lotion where you can reach, your skin will get dry under the cast"
•"don't forget your meds love, the sooner you heal the sooner we can be naughty~ 😈"
•this brother would be the most clingy out of all of them, but works out for MC.
•goes above and beyond holding doors and carrying bags...would escourt MC everywhere
•He does not only signs the cast, he glues a picture of himself on it
•MC would eventually tell Asmo what really happened...thinking they could trust Asmo not to loose his shit
•He looses his shit, but holds it together in front of MC
•the second he knows MC is asleep...he goes hunting for some naughty witches.
🍔Beelzebub🍔
•he was at practice when it happened, and missed the call
•MC ended in meeting him halfway home
•poor thing does not know what to do
•So sorry he missed the call
•the fact of the matter is, he trusts MC in what MC says happened.
•he was use to injuries with his workouts and sports...but MC was far too fragile...
•he would be the 'scary dog privilege' for MC
•He respects MC enough to give them space...but also watches MC like a hawk
•carries things for MC and refuses to take no for an anwser
•made sure MC was fed at ALL times.
•"Food always makes me feel better, so maybe you will get better if you eat"
•MC attaches themselves to Beelz instead of the other way around
•He would sign the cast, plain and simple. Mc would explain that he could add more if he wanted. [As evident from Mammon signing a new spot every day] so he would most likely draw food or something later on
•When Beelz finds out what truly happened, he would get upset...but not enough to do anything super harmful.
•he could go and eat all their food...or their homes. He would decide in the car.
🥱Belphagor🥱
•Again, Belphie is smarter than he lets on
•he would be aware of the bullies, but not the extent of what they would do
•most likely was asleep during the call
•would notice MC's long absence, then when MC did show up he was shocked.
•asking the usual questions, who what when where...MC would dodge them all.
•Belphie was suspicious
•Would be the most protective of MC, always be by MC's side
•but much like Beelz he would respect MC's space
•until he was sleepy that is
•would rest on MC anywhere and anytime
•would also be MC's 'scary dog' privilege, but shows dominance by laying in MC's lap
•MC didn't mind, they would play with Belphie's hair anyways
•he would doodle all over the cast, and if anything would sign his name under Mammon's every time he signed
•thrilled to bits at all the naps MC and him now have since MC was not allowed to do much.
•"Where do you want to nap today?"
•"MC why don't we go to the attic today, I happen to know Mammon is going get yelled at today...it won't be quiet for long"
•when he finally finds out what happened, and he will find out, he will not hold back
•where his twin would be passive, he would be aggressive...we can leave it at that
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