#writings.
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& @starlyht. "i need ya to do me a favor. an itty bitty tiny one." her usual self; obnoxious & yet unbearably charming. a heavy chain dangles from her hand. there is still dry blood underneath her nails. "tonight, imma need you to. tie me up. so to speak." lip bitten (worry?), a flash of a sharp canine, before her smile grows into something flirtatious. "not tha' kind of tyin' up, ya dirty dog."
#starlyht#writings.#bg3. oh drunken gods of slaughter#didnt specify a muse so u can go with whoever you're feeling most <3
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it is no secret, painfully obvious & for everyone else to see : a hating game between the two of them. he couldn’t stand the sight of her. she’s brilliant, yes. powerful, intelligent. she’s fast & strong. she’s beautiful, a smile to kill for. one of a kind. and yet . . . she’s everything he despises. even the angelic sound of her voice did things to him. things he’d never quite felt before. he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it. he tried, countless of times before but it’s a never ending story with them. even now, when she’s sitting next to him during another interesting class of defence against the dark arts, he feels tensed. like there’s electricity running through it’s entire body. he doesn’t know if he wants her far & far away from him, or to have her awfully close. such terrifying thought. sigh rolls down his tongue, blue eyes travelling to her side, instantly locked. ‘’ out of all places, you decided to sit here. why? do you need something? ‘’ evil smile follows through, not leaving her out of his sight. ‘’ or did you just miss me? it’s okay, you can tell me. i won’t judge. ‘’
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“ you should be scared of me. i like that you’re not. ” <33
a solemn look etched onto the ice queen’s face as quentin spoke, gentle hands moving from her lap as they raised to cup his face. “ quentin . . “ the word ghosted past emma’s lips — eyes shining, like a diamond itself, as they gazed into the man’s own. it was true . . lots of people were afraid of him, of mysterio. but . . that was the territory when it came to mutants, no matter how much she wished it were not true.
the pads of her thumbs rubbed gently against quentin’s skin as emma sighed, leaning forehead so her forehead rested against his own. a comforting gesture, intimate. “ i could never be afraid of you, sugar. “ the words soft as breath ghosted against his own. “ i’m afraid i am in it for the long haul, despite what the world may think of you. “ emma teased softly, trying to lighten the mood as lips raised- pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.
” i love you, quentin beck . . nothing in the world will ever change that fact. “
#masterillusions#writings.#short but sweet </3#brain is eepy i apologize it isn’t longer but#needed to write this for them#they’re sOOOOO#GAAHHHH#guys that’s my pookie bear#i’m sorry about how annoying im gonna be about my bf
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larys uses his hand to tip theon's chin up, blue eyes peered into the greyjoy's. "you are a terrible liar."
the man's touch under his chin made a soft chill go down theon's spine, blue grey eyes staring up into larys's own. the man was much taller than he, despite the hunch he typically had. his words made the greyjoy let out a soft huff of breath. he wanted to laugh, to tell him to piss off and go who knows where.
instead, he simply narrowed his eyes- a wolfish grin turning up against edges of lips. " i may be a terrible liar, but at least some may be stupid enough to believe it. " not larys, though. never larys.
" that is a skill some may use to their advantage, no? “ words sharp against his tongue as sly grin got bigger. the kraken took a step forward, eyes crinkling softly as theon tilted his chin up more to meet his gaze. “ someone like you, lord strong, perhaps? “
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[ DANCE ] — sender pulls receiver into a dance, but not on a dance floor ; in the midst of somewhere unconventional ( such as a kitchen or balcony ) , for a quiet, private dance, that may be more of gentle swaying than proper dancing
the night was still young as margaery looked over the balcony, admiring the sights and sounds of king's landing once the sun was down. auburn curls loose around her shoulders as her hands smoothed down the material of her evening gown. it was nights like this where the tyrell woman felt as if she could relax, to just . . watch.
she could hear someone walking up behind her, head barely turning to address whoever it may be before her hand is grabbed at gently. body pulled towards the person's chest as icy hues looked up at aegon. a small smile registered on margaery's rosy lips as their hands locked together- feeling aegon's hand finding home against the small of her back.
the two began to sway gently, the woman's free hand winding up to rest upon the royal's shoulder. " well hello to you too, your grace. " margaery had hummed, eyes crinkling as her smile reached them. the action was unexpected, but not unwelcomed. shifting her stance, margaery rested her head against aegon's chest as they swayed in place- eyes shutting briefly as she enjoyed this shared moment between them. " i do not know what caused this, but . . it is nice. "
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what if remi cradles his face in her gentle palms, hm? strokes her thumb under his eyes? peppers his face with tender tender kisses & loud, audible mwah! sounds? “so handsome! so intelligent!”
the feeling of remilia's hands resting so gently on the sides of his face made the prince pause , violet hues staring down at the dragonborn in surprise. the soft caress of her thumbs under his eyes made them shut briefly - aegon could feel himself leaning into the touch. he had never been treated so . . gently. like he was a fragile little thing to be cherished. like he was delicate glass.
but before he could even speak , the woman began to pepper his face with soft kisses - the prince being pulled down at the action. his eyes flicking open as remilia's lips came into contact with his skin over and over again. aegon sputtered softly , lips pursed tight as violet hues widened. handsome . . intelligent. the words made his face start to flush a soft hue , gulping gently at the sudden affections.
" i do not thi- " the prince began to reply , his words cut off as the woman's lips connected with his own - his thoughts drowned out completely as he sighed. caving into the touch , aegon pulled remilia closer towards him - hands resting on her waist. " you have certainly done it now , zaldrizes. "
#maidmyth#writings.#CRYING LIS#affection would fix this man i stg#he just wants to be loved......#him calling her dragon? YEAH#RAHHHHHH#remi pls fix this man
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he wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume. she should’ve known. should’ve seen it coming. DANCING WITH THE DEVIL. his hands covered with blood. the same hands touching her. comforting her. warm, gentle. kind. not knowing it’s the same hands that killed. he who takes and takes - it is never enough. hunger for power and so much more. but little does he know . . . it’s him who’s stuck. him who’s not under control anymore. him who’s close to lose everything he once upon a time wanted and longed for. and all because of her. not realising she had been his weak spot all along. he likes to neglect it, the devil within him trying to convince himself of the fact he’s only doing this because of her magic. strong arms wrapped around fragile body, bringing her closer to his chest as a smile curls up fleshed lips. ‘’ hey, beautiful. ‘’ a moment passes by, taking her in, dark eyes fixated on the girl, knowing all too well she’s not been herself lately. he sees it, feels it : the fear, the anger, the pain. mystic falls has been DANGEROUS lately & he thinks it’s swallowing her whole. ‘’ are you okay? i heard about the girl . . . she didn’t make it. i’m sorry, bon. ‘’
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the case ends early, without any flourish. a rather straight-forward situation, with a child recovered early enough that he will probably find a way to get past the traumatic events. his parents are overjoyed, and reid has to turn away from their cries of relief. not from disgust, exactly — more like envy. a crude feeling he does not wish to study in any way, shape or form. their work trip ends well. something that does not happen often, which of course calls for a celebration. the place they have left their stuff at is nice and clean and relatively welcoming. the town is small enough that the party will not be invaded by outsiders. most of all, they desperately need a break — a break from the restless succession of cases and corpses and violence. spencer does not remember the last time he went to get a drink with his colleagues instead of collapsing on a bed that is not his, shirt half-opened and shoes barely taken off.
the night off is clearly necessary, but the fact that they all gather around beers and cocktails is a happy incident. at first, all morgan had asked for was for a game of cards. he knows the danger of playing with reid, of course, so the shift happens quickly : from game to magic tricks to drinks. the night goes smoothly, with laughter and jokes about events that they have collected along the way like precious stones, greedily, for they were too rare not to.
spencer isn't drunk exactly since he hasn't consumed anything except a beer. but alcohol on an empty stomach gets the job done anyway : he feels slightly buzzed, happily drifting away from clear consciousness. he is happy just to sit and listen as juno recalls events and stories that david seems happy enough to ask her about. one by one, his friends leave : morgan and garcia, his arm around her waist as she babbles about codes and programs that would make the job "so much more fun". derek's smile is so sweet spencer doesn't even have to wonder what is hiding behind it. emily, rossi and hotch end up leaving together, all discussing quietly. the only true mark of levity is the absence of lines between hotch's brows. david's enigmatic smile hasn't faltered at all. only emily's behavior seems slightly off in the tame light of the bar — with the way she tilts closer to them in order to capture the softly spoken words. garcia tried to outdrink her, and lost — but not by far, it seems.
spencer and juno are the last to leave. he caught their friends leaving one by one, but only through snippets ; most of is attention is on juno as she speaks of a book she read in the plane. if it were up to him, they would never leave the place — but here she is, taking her jacket. there is nothing more to say and he finds himself lacking in questions, his brain too hesitant to speak of anything at all, so they have no choice but to depart. on the way, he wishes for a distraction ; for her stomach to make a sound, so that he could take her to dinner. for something to happen, anything that would force them to stay together. just one more hour. one more minute. but nothing happens and soon enough, he has taken her home, which is to say he has wallked her all the way to her hotel room.
perhaps it is that his state makes him braver than he usually is. perhaps it is that he has been thinking of it for years now. if a thousand things have always been between them, preventing any evolution in their dynamic, these things have come crumbling down with the passing years. he thinks of morgan's hand around garcia, the smile she sent his way. he thinks of jj, the way she threw herself in the arms of her husband knowing he'd catch her. he thinks of the kid's parents. how they held each other through the horror, and never faltered. not until their child was brought back to them, anyway. he thinks of his mother and how he will have no one left the day she dies. how, even now, he only has parts of her. loneliness gnaws at his bones, and his mind only knows quiet hours when juno is close.
maybe he is not any braver today than he was yesterday. maybe he is simply more desperate. more aware of the fact that she is going to get away from him and he will not survive it. maybe he wants her in unspeakable ways and can no longer find it in himself to pretend otherwise. all that matters is that, when their goodbyes have been spoken and the soft click of the door has rung out behind him, spencer does not move. twelve steps would take him to the elevator. five more and he'd get to the stairs. it would be terribly easy to do as he has always done, shoving his feelings down his throat and walking away from her. he knows that with a painful clarity. he could leave and never speak of the hesitation again. he has done it before, he could do it again in a heartbeat.
and yet. his knuckles tap against the wooden door. slowly, at first, and then faster. he won't be brave for much longer and he needs to do this right. (meaning if he doesn't do it now, he never will) the door takes a moment longer to open, and he finds juno a little more disheveled than he left her ; shoes off, her jacket abandoned somewhere in the room. spencer has never had any doubt whatsoever about juno's beauty but once again he is in awe. he knows that there are geometrical theories and mathematical equations to explain why she is so pleasing to the eye. yet despite this, he cannot help but believe that some of it is simply juno — she is beautiful as nature or art is beautiful. not for reasons exterior to itself, but simply because it exists in its own unique ways. he could spend an eternity watching her and he would not get bored, not even grow restless. in fact, he has spent countless hours following her every move, and he has always found something worthy to admire. she is a strange creature. one he wishes he could study closer, closer, not just with eyes but hands and mouth. his own desire is a monster he does not know how to destroy.
his humanity always comes as a surprise ; how he can hunger and thirst for such trivial things. even other people seem surprised of the fact that, at the end of the day, spencer reid is just a man. yet in juno's presence, reid has never felt like anything but. he wants her. he wants her the way he wanted her when he was younger, badly and excessively and sometimes even jealously. tonight he is tired of pretending otherwise.
she must have a question on her tongue, perhaps wondering what he is doing, if he has forgotten something, but it cannot be spoken before he moves forward. her face is captured by his hands, a soft hold. spencer leans toward her, his shadow eating away all her personal space. a few steps are taken, so he can close the door with the back of his heel.
he knows it is surprising. he knows that she might have not realized the effects she has on him — the way the flush on her cheeks makes him yearn, how when she speaks of something he doesn't know, he wishes she would whisper the pieces of information against his throat. he knows this is all in his head but god — years of fantasy and he is tired of abandoning her at the end of the night, not knowing if she regrets it as much as he does. for a moment, he thought juno and derek... well, a stupid conclusion that had saved him from admitting to himself what he actually felt.
now, though, spencer is willing to be brave. he even is willing to admit he is so stupid when it comes to her. "tell me," he starts, his breath probably smelling a little like stale beer. he'd apologize, except his hands have moved from her cheeks to her hair, and the long curls have him already weak in the legs. whatever the painters thought of when they talked about beauty, spencer knows they thought of her. like this. face flushed, lips slightly open, surprise and something else... something he cannot name. "tell me if you don't..." but then the thought dies on his lips, and he simply does what he has been dying to do for years. he leans forward, captures @suarcz 's lips with his, and prays she won't try to shoot him in the chest for invading her personal space.
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❛ you are being so fucking weird, man. ❜
the demon chuckled lowly as tara spoke , crimson hues staring down at them as alastor’s head tilted slightly. much like a curious animal , the noise bubbling from his throat sounding staticky and warped. “ why thank you , my dear. i’ll take that as a compliment. “ the demon’s form bowed slightly , lowering so the two were now eye to eye. “ what’s the fun in being . . plain? “ the man added , tsk’ing softly to themself as they gazed at their companion.
“ so , my dear tara- “ the static spoke up once more , alastor’s big grin still plastered on his face. “ to what do i owe the pleasure today? “
#rotdame#writings.#THIS IS HORRIBLE I APOLOGIZE#trying to get into his headspace... grrr#also i haven't wrote in forever screams
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" it is no good speaking of fairness, the fool's errand. " - sol .
they don't do this, normally -- sit around a fire & talk. yet today was putrid in its predictability. guts spilled. secrets unveiled. the same unrepetent path that opens like the maws of a rather hungry creature, into an even darker future neither of them can understand the meaning of. adventure for adventure's sake, for istar. and yet. there were parts of her in there, little trinkets of whoever she might have been before the headaches and the bloody noses. it isn't fair, she said, that everyone seems to have pieces of me-- isn't fair that i have to glean them like rocks on a beach, all those pieces, sharp as shards of glass, and mine, mine, mine.
blue eyes, clear & electrifying, raise from the fire to look at the drow. "do ya just let 'em all kick you while yer down, then? i think" her tongue passes over sharp canines, like she's testing the extent of her humanity against the reality of her monstrous being-- wondering which rock she'll have to unearth to finally meet herself as she is now. "i think when people steal yer shit ya should get it back. 'cause that's fair." she clicks her tongue, then, annoyed with the lack of a more verbose vocabulary. like perhaps in some other time she might have had the words to fight her battles. but now? now her head's full of ringing noises and the sheer black void of an unreachable past. "fair's 'bout gettin' even."
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stay here with me. vanessa
all suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire. and he hopes she knows how hard he tried. he did everything he possibly could to make her better, to do better. it was simply out of his control. his reputation, his money, his resources . . . nothing could FIX her. for a long time, he accepted it. he couldn’t tell her what to do. she was his best friend, nothing less, nothing more. but oh, he did love her. loved her like no one else. loved her more than he was supposed to. he still does. but that one night, the accident by the pool, it pushed him over the edge. for the first time in life, he threatened her. she would either fix herself, or she would never see a glimpse of him ever again. and here they are : in the middle of nowhere, stuck in his car, in front of the world’s leading & discrete luxury mental health treatment’s building. he inhales, avoiding her gaze, jaw tightly clenched together. he can’t look at her, because he knows he’ll give in. HE DOESN’T WANT TO LEAVE HER BEHIND. he wants to keep her close, wants to take care of her. make her feel better. but they’ve been there - he tried, countless of times before. it didn’t work. ‘’ go inside, vanessa. we talked about this. ‘’ he’s cold, distant. moment passes by, blue eyes travelling up just to find her very own. he reaches out for her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, head tilted. ‘’ you’re strong. you can do this. i know you can. ‘’
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[ SHELTER ] sender and receiver must find shelter from a storm . (even a little rainstorm idk i think of garden walks)
the gardens of king's landing had always been one of her favorites. it was almost as if she were back home in highgarden amongst the flora and fauna. margaery twirled a single rose in her hands as she strolled through the grounds, taking in all the sites and smells before hearing that familiar rumble of a storm brewing. oh how she hated storms . . they were too harsh and if too much water came, it could drown out a garden.
before she could even register where she could begin to leave the gardens, margaery felt the first few drops before the pour- cursing softly as she began to pick up her pace. soon enough, the woman was now drenched as she rushed through the isles. hands clasping at the bottoms of her dress as she hiked up the flowy material, not wanting it to get all muddy and dirty.
huffing gently to herself as she finally reached one of the gazebos, dark curls stuck to her face as she wiped some water from her eyes. sensing she was not alone- margaery turned her head slighty as she spotted larys also seeking shelter, the tyrell woman clearing her throat. " apologies, my lord. i had not seen you there. " the woman nodded curtly, gently trying to wring some of the water from her dress. " it is some weather . . i did not expect so much water in king's landing. "
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abrupt . kiss my muse out of the blue .
this was a feeling you had felt many times, at least . . with your own doctor. you had kissed tentoo many times, under many different circumstances. but this? you hadn’t expected this at all. your ten. your doctor. his lips upon your own, unexpectedly, abruptly . . the action drew the air from your lungs. like you were a fish out of water and he was the one thing keeping you from dying.
there was a soft gasp against ten’s own lips, yet you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck. trying to pull him closer and closer, till your bodies melded into one. in truth, technically you two had kissed once many years ago . . but your consciousness was not your own. it didn’t count.
reluctantly you had to pull away, the need of air in your lungs evident as your face flushed. hazel eyes looked up at the doctor as rose smiled gently, searching his own eyes for an answer. some kind of sign as to what warranted the kiss.
‘ what was that for? ‘ you asked softly, your fingers gently messing with the hair on the nape of the doctor’s neck. ‘ i certainly enjoyed it, but- doctor . . ‘ rose’s voice got quiet as your train of thought faded, free hand moving up to cup the doctor’s cheek. you missed him. ‘ after all this time? you finally got the courage, huh? ‘
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salvatore brothers. everywhere they go to . . . destruction, grief & pain follows. she’s stuck in the middle of it. caught between monsters. no way to run from it, impossible to escape. HERE COMES A FEELING YOU THOUGHT YOU’D FORGOTTEN. longing for a shred of hope. hope that his brother is still alive. fighting for his life. fighting for everything that’s right. damon despised him, hated everything his brother stood for and yet . . . here he stands, eyes locked with the girl who would go to the end of the world for his brother. ironic, is it not? the good brother slowly turning into something hideous when the evil one is slowly beginning to care. oh, leaving town crossed the mind multiple times. but leaving her here to die - it was just something he couldn’t do. and truthfully, he hated it. ‘’ just get some sleep, elena. ‘’ sigh full of defeat follows through, dark & empty eyes slowly finding her very own. ‘’ i can’t focus on finding my brother and babysit you at the same damn time. ‘’ words full of annoyance escapes the vampire, instantly regretting it - knowing she’s doing the best she can. ‘’ just . . . get some rest. okay? i’ll be here. you’re safe. ‘’
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[WONDER]: unable to comprehend how incredible the receiver is, the sender decides to simply cup their face in their hands and marvel at them instead.
feeling the robot’s hands reach up to cup their face , gabriel stared down at the woman with softened eyes - an almost purr like noise coming from their throat. leaning down a little , not wanting kitty to have to reach so far; the angel smiled gently. wings engulfing the both of them as they practically melted into the bot’s touch.
“ well , hello to you too. “ hummed gabriel , a hand moving up to rest against kitty’s own - their forehead leaning down to rest against hers. “ i don’t mind the staring , but . . i do not think i am supposed to be here. “ their voice lowered as gabriel spoke , anxiety lacing their tone as they reference the vee’s room they were in. of course , they’d love to see kitty anywhere- but they definitely felt like a trespasser in the lion’s den.
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