#God I've have never found something I could relate more!

[reiderwriter]

Unfair We're Not Somewhere

Chapter Eight of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With a little bit of help from someone who could relate a little bit too closely to your situation, Y/N tries to come clean. Tries.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy symptoms/ general pregnancy things, unsub mentions, plot.

A/N: Chapter Eight! I'm so excited for where the rest of this series is going to go, though I do feel like people are going to be a bit annoyed by this one lmao. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below or in an ask! Don't be too mad...

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

You sat quietly in the clinic as you waited for the pharmacist to fill your prescription - a simple pregnancy multivitamin that was supposed to help your food go down, make your hair shinier, and fix all your problems.

You wondered if the bottle could tell Spencer you were pregnant. You wondered if it could make him magically okay with that and prepare him for fatherhood, too. 

Your phone buzzed, and you surfaced from the field of thoughts you'd been lost in as you checked it. 

“Outside,” an unknown number had sent. You took that as your queue, stood up, and left the clinic, trying your best to avoid looking back at the small boy Spencer had been playing with. 

You weren't sure if you were going to have a boy or a girl yet. You didn't mind either, though you'd always envisioned yourself with a big enough family that you assumed at least one of each was inevitable. Though even you had to admit how stereotypically nuclear that was, and how only 18% of the country was living that was lying anyway. 

You shoved psychology from your head for a few minutes and let yourself breathe.

“Y/N!” JJ signalled from the driver's side of her still running SUV. She waved slightly, and you smiled politely as you quickly paced around to the side of her vehicle and got in. 

“Hi,” you said, unsure if you should introduce yourself or not. She'd been in the office the day you'd been taken into custody (protection), but you still had yet to speak to her. She'd been exempt from protective duty so far due to her status as a senior field agent and the fact that she had two kids and a husband at home waiting for her. 

You were sad she was the anomaly in the BAU, the only one with someone waiting on her. 

“I'm Y/N,” you said, still unsure if you should hold out a hand or not. You hadn't made the best impression on most of Spencer's colleagues, and while you didn't think there was much point in trying, you still couldn't bring yourself to be intentionally blasé. 

“I know, you're all we've been talking about for weeks,” the woman laughed, pulling out of the clinic car park and smiling at you. 

“Oh, right. Case. Of course, I've heard you probably know more about me than I know about myself.” 

“We have a profile, sure, but that's not what I meant.” 

You nodded awkwardly and stared out the window for a second, the sky darkening slightly as it prepared to rain. 

You drove for a few minutes before JJ spoke up again. 

“I don't know if Emily told you, but it's actually my day off today,” she said, turning off into a cul-de-sac you'd never seen before. 

“Oh, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I could've just got a taxi or something or just… gotten over myself. You didn't have to-” 

“Yes, I did,” she looked at you for a second, cocking her head to the side in a gesture that said, ‘and you know why.’ It was a look only a friend would give, and you felt an instant connection with her. 

How had Spencer found so many wonderful, big-hearted women to surround himself with, and how could you get in on it? 

You supposed, by letting him get you pregnant, you'd probably found a cheat code for whatever the answer might have been. 

“Anyway, it's my day off, so I promised my boys a fun day at home with mommy. We're doing finger painting and macaroni art. I hope you don't mind getting messy.” 

“Wha-? Me? Oh. No, not at all,” you tried to seem nonchalant, but your heart suddenly beat faster now that you were faced with this unexpected opportunity. As a lecturer, you'd been surrounded by kids professionally for years now. 18 to 21 year old kids. The kind that already had defined morals, world views, and, secretly, alcohol tolerances. The last time you'd encountered any kind of child younger than 18 was when you yourself were under 18.

The joys of toiling away at a doctorate for the better half of your adult life. You knew how to talk to professors and scholars. You were absolutely scared shitless of interacting with a kid. 

“H-How old are they?” You asked, trying to sound polite but falling somewhere between anxious and terrified with a simple stutter. 

“Well, Henry is turning 8 in November, and Michael is just about 22 months. He's just about talking, which is as fun as you can expect.” 

Her voice was tired, but there was genuine affection there, love for her kids and pride. You wondered if your voice would change if you'd suddenly begin speaking like that, too, about something other than a paper submitted to a journal or a job opportunity. 

She pulled into a street parking space and turned off the engine as two bright haired little boys came bouncing up the path of their garden to greet her, stopping at the gate. 

“Mommy! Michael got glitter on the carpet, and Daddy said we shouldn't tell you.” 

“And you have no sense of loyalty when a pretty face comes around, do you?”

Hopping out of the car, you heard JJ's husband drawl as she greeted him with a kiss. She'd probably only taken half an hour to pick you up, but they were still greeting each other so warmly. For a second, you wondered what that would be like before you remembered throwing yourself into Spencer's arms the night before. Your face heated as you stood awkwardly at the side of the car, trying not to cradle your stomach as you watched the family interact. 

Would your baby ever get that tall? Would it have brown eyes like Spencer, or one's more similar to your own? His hair was curly. Maybe your baby would get hair that waved like his, too. 

After all, JJ's kids seemed like perfect compromises between her and her husband. Other people's kids didn't, though. You wondered a lot of things before JJ gestured you over again. 

“Henry, Michael, this is Aunt Y/N. She's going to do those crafts with us today - after we've locked away the glitter and thrown away the key.” 

You laughed as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pushed you forward into the chaos of two kids under ten. 

You were a little startled as the smaller one - Michael - grabbed your hand. He had a pacifier in his mouth, though he was probably outgrowing it, and he stared up at you with big, wide eyes, blinking and sizing you up as he toddled along beside you. 

Your heart grew three sizes, and you felt sorry for ever being afraid of interacting with the kids. 

JJ whispered to her husband quickly as you entered the LaMontagne household, and he greeted you quickly. 

“So you're Spencer's lady friend. It's nice to meet you. It's nice that you're real. Honestly, I was getting a little-” 

A look from JJ cut him off, though he did still seem a bit confused. 

“I'm sorry, am I under the wrong impression? JJ said you were pregnant with Spencer's baby, y'all aren't…” 

“Oh my god-” you whispered, suddenly panicking again but whispering just in case. You weren't sure if the pair was religious, and though you certainly weren't, it probably wasn't the best time to blaspheme. You needed as much god as existed in the world. 

“So, does everyone know?” You asked JJ, trying to keep your voice bright and calm, so Michael didn't take too much of an interest and grow frustrated by hushed tones. You knew enough about child development and psychology, it translated over, right? 

“Everyone who's observant. Luke noticed the pregnancy vitamins in your bag, Tara was talking about your mood swings in the office the other day. I guess you told Emily earlier, and I have two kids.” 

You nodded at the answer. 

“And Spencer?” 

“You haven't told him yet?” JJ asked, slightly surprised. 

“If I told him, you'd know.” 

“Well, you're right on that. He's not the most easy-going during pregnancy,” JJ laughed and steered you into the living space, where your de facto art studio had been set up for the day, along with the offending glitter bomb. 

“Really? You thought you could keep that a secret?” 

“Well, of anyone was going to find it, it was going to be my beautiful, smart, funny, profiler Wife,” Will said, giving her a small peck on the cheek as she rolled her eyes at him. “I'm clocking in now. Call me if you need anything.” 

You waved him off, and sat down with the kids. 

JJ started the craft and then planned your hasty escape as the two boys were enraptured by making the perfect macaroni necklace, dusting it in objectively too much glitter as they proudly created their art. 

In the kitchen, she handed you a mug, and you sipped it quietly as she began again. 

“So, you're not dating?” 

“Nope.”

“And he doesn't know you're pregnant?” 

“No.” You took another sip and shifted from one foot to the other. 

You knew what was coming next. It was what you'd gotten next from Emily, from Penelope, from yourself when you'd thought about it for longer than ten seconds. You needed to tell him. 

“Okay. What's your next move?” 

You were so shocked you almost splashed the hot tea over the mug you held, close to burning yourself as you turned to face her. 

“I… what?” 

“Well, what's your next move? You're what, five months along? You're not going to be able to hide it for much longer. And you have to think about maternity leave, your hospital stay, and names, and who's going to drive you to the hospital. And obviously, how you're going to pay the hospital fee, and then custody and child support.”

“Oh god…” 

“And you also have to sort your relationship out with Spencer. So where are you starting?” 

It wasn't a question that didn't have an answer. JJ was staring at you, waiting for one as you opened and closed your mouth, head suddenly so empty you almost forgot what you were talking about. 

“He doesn't like me,” you suddenly blurted and wished you hadn't, face crumpling as you physically cringed at your own words. 

“Y/N, he was telling us about your toothbrush yesterday. Part of the office has a theory that he made up this case as a reason to get closer to you.” 

Again, you felt the heat blossom on tour skin as you looked away, taking another sip. 

“We don't do anything but argue.” 

“You do at least one other thing,” JJ said, hands on her hips as she confronted you. 

“No, that doesn't count. We were still arguing while we were doing…that.” 

“TMI,” she groaned as you fanned yourself. “Y/N, I know for a fact that Spencer is at least half in love with you. If you're absolutely sure you don't feel the same way, you need to at least let him down easy.”

“I…. I don't know. He's infuriating sometimes, but then he's so smart and annoying. But he's pretty great at comforting me. And the, uh, the other stuff, that was good, too.” 

“Don't need to-” 

“Like really good. Like, I'm not surprised I ended up pregnant practically first time good-” 

“Back on topic, please!” JJ whisper shouted, throwing her hands up as you zipped your mouth shut.

“You like him,” she said. 

You sighed and finally gave in. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I like him.” 

“Great. What next?” 

“Next, I tell him I'm pregnant and make him hate me for a while.” 

She patted you on the back and poised you another mug of tea before leading you back over to the kids and sitting beside them at the table. 

“We can plan something later. For now, macaroni art is calling.”

You weren't sure if it was the stern, practical pep-talk from JJ or the little tiny grasp of your hand from Michael. Maybe it was even Henry's goodbye of ‘see you soon, Auntie Y/N’ that had you suddenly invigorated, but you suddenly kicked yourself into gear. 

The pregnancy wasn't going to put itself on pause while you worked up the courage to tell Spencer about it. You had to do it. 

JJ dropped you off at home at 6 p.m., knowing that Spencer would be back at the apartment shortly. 

“You're sure you don't need me to stay up there with you? The commute can get a bit long this time of night, Spencer could be anywhere between 15 and 45 minutes.”

“No, I think… I think I need some time to think about how I'm going to do this. I need some alone time.”

She nodded quietly and sent you off after calling Spencer and giving him an update on your whereabouts. 

You paced the apartment wondering what the best option was. 

You could go for the bookshelf again, though it was still organised into your first message. You'd not moved a book in that stack at all, and surprisingly, neither had Spencer. 

Running into your room, you grabbed the pair of baby shoes you'd thrown into your bag from your apartment. Maybe if you left them on the shelf next to the books…? 

You put them there and frowned, wondering if he'd be able to see them from the door when he walked in. He was so used to the surroundings of his house that he really didn't check for irregularities. 

You moved them to the coffee table. Then you wondered if you should just hand them to him when he walked in. 

“Spencer. I am..pregnant,” you practised, looking into the bathroom mirror as you tried to force a smile. 

“Spencer. We're pregnant. No, not a chance,” you sighed. 

“Spencer, I have a parasite growing in me. I've had it for five months now, and then I'll have it for another four and hopefully a long time after that as well.” 

That one was mostly a joke. Mostly. 

“Spencer, I… We're going to have a baby.” You looked down at your bump again and decided that was probably your best option. It wasn't a state. It wasn't a condition or a parasite. It was a baby. 

You rubbed your stomach again and looked up, wiping away tears from the corner of your eye as you composed yourself again. 

The doorbell rang, and your heart race picked up. It was time. Spencer was home, and you were going to tell him. 

Suddenly, you were filled with excitement, with happiness. You ran to the door, stepping on the sofa to get there quicker as you ran to pull it open. 

Maybe it was the pregnancy brain fog, but you forgot where you were. 

Spencer Reid lived in this apartment. He didn't need to knock on the door or ring the doorbell. He'd never done it before. But you'd already swung the door open quickly, and you were so relaxed and ready for it to be him that when a hand extended and covered your mouth with a cloth, thick with a scent that had your body protesting, you could do nothing but crumple to the floor with your hands cradling yourself, protecting the life growing within you. 

🔖@mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @2hiigh2cry @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig

@pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read

@ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @mggreidsreads @@farfromthehomelands @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfudidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @@nvrlandqueen @delicatelittleworld @nokjhg @measure-in-pain @famouslynerdy @batrensworld @batrensworld

@Cattosmush @im-this-girl @Sarcasm-and-stiles @lovemelaunic @lllucere@ Cattosmush @lariclifford @daphnesutton Ccatstars @Iniyalovesall @solemnarration @emma-e-a @haygirleyhay Mel-knee @broadwaytraaaaash @Wildflowerpassion @itshardtopickaname @Timidquindim

@yourfavoritefangirl @waywardxrhea @Aliceofonederland @joshuafatubaee @jc10622 @timeboundkate @Roslxnxx @Gensthoughts23 @marvelshittt @lavvylove @Slitherss @mythumbhurts @Xiaexact @Honestlyloving @maryyy-8

@timeboundkate @justdamnpeachy @awezomezauce @darling006 @thefalseapp @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @fabulouslynerdy @short-mess @maeganme @crazyunsexycool @redmoonsofvenus @supraveng @lilscb @jackierose902109 @thebooklocket

[meo-eiru]

Breaking my lurker status (forgive my english I don't speak the devils tongue/j)

1.-I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO SO SO MUCH PLSSS-- you write so good and you draw even better it's so fun to see a notification pop up bc it also means I can see the silly people that also like your characters just as much as I do! I find it so cute to see all the different ways people live this characters I love it💥💥

2.- I beg of thee, to spare a crumb if One Eyed monster once again (when you have time bc remember to rest, eat and drink aguita💥), I've been OBSESSED with that one since I saw your first post about him, I just find him so endearing!

Like imagine scene! He is just so head over heels over by us but be doesn't have the courage to come talk to us, but oh! What's this? We are going out of our way to talk to him? HE MUST BE DREAMING! And we are just gushing over how cute he looks with his hair covering his face bc it makes him look so tiny and sweet that we can't help but reach to touch his face and in his daze we move just a little bit of his hair and he only notices that we have seen his full face when he can see more clearer (bc having so much hair in front of your only eye must never tough) and he just PANICS-- like just completely and utterly scared that he takes off running already crying and thinking that we will never wanna see him again and that we are disgusted by him, he only stops in an alley far away to catch his breath.

But in his break down he fails to notice how we ran after him, yelling for him to stop, following him to the alley and seeing in a front row seat how he is just completely broken saying between sobs how we'll hate him now.

But we never had hated him to begin with, we found him cute at the start so we got close to him, and when we saw that big doe-eye it was like staring at the most beautiful star in the sky, we would never hate him after all.

He doesn't hear our steps towards him, he only reacts when he feels our hand lightly touch the top of his hair, his head snapping up to see who it was, his heart almost jumping out of his chest when he sees it's us, both with joy and sorrow, I mean, we are probably there to mock him right? To tell him how ugly his one eye is and to tell him we never wanna see him again, after all,

¿If not for that why else would the one person he loves more than everything be there before him after seeing his one eye?

When he only manages to babble a weak - why? Here? You...Huh...? -

But we don't say anything, we just kneel down and hug him, holding him close, letting him cry in our shoulder, with one of our hand rubbing comforting circles on his back and the other petting his hair, waiting for his cries to stop.

When they do all we say is a simple couple of words, almost got loud enough but just for him to hear, leaving his once broken heart renewed and beating so fast he feels he might have a heart attack.

- You are even more beautiful than I could ever imagine... -

Something so little to anyone else, but something so big for him that he doesn't think his fragile heart could take anything else.

But he doesn't need anything else, he only needs this,

He only needs you

(I propose the name Jade for him, ¿why?, bc when I first saw him I related him with one of my favorite gemstones💥)

-Yummy-

Oh my god this healed my soul, improved my grades, my eyes and skin are shining, world peace is happening, global warming ended and there’s no longer world hunger.

It just means so much to him, he’s so different from everyone else, he’s a monster. There’s no way you could love a creature like him who can’t even talk to you directly without exploding from nerves. He’s not handsome, he’s not charismatic, he’s not funny, he’s just a stalker who’s too pathetic to breath the same air as you.

Only thing bringing a bit of solace to him is the fantasies he has about you. Holding hands, going on dates, watching movies and cuddling, you saying you love him even if he’s a monster… Yes fantasies, such a thing can only happen in his fantasies.

So what’s happening right now? Is he dreaming? You’re so warm he can’t think straight. You think he’s beautiful? This can’t be real surely he misheard you. He can’t talk from the tears rolling down his eye. Please forgive him for getting your shoulder wet. He’s so just so, so happy right now. All he can do is hug you back and sob as he prays this is not just a dream.

[doctorcurdlejr]

Niko!! what'd you think of I saw the tv glow. I finally saw it last night and noticed you posting about it so I wanted to know your thoughts :)

Levi!!! I was JUST wondering what you were thinking about the movie after I saw you posting about it as well... we are so media discussion pilled in this way, it's awesome. ANYWAYS I've had so many thoughts since I first saw it and I've been trying to turn them into something coherent for a little bit now.

Ummm okay I have written 1k+ words about this movie, the suburbs, and escapism via teen TV.... clearly I was dying for somebody to ask this I guess so thank you for indulging me <3

First and foremost, I absolutely loved it! I've seen it twice now and the first time I watched it I got to see Jane Schoenbrun talk about the film right after. I already really liked it from that first watch alone. I found it so deeply relatable to my experiences - both in terms of growing up gay and trans, but where I am now in my 20s trying to navigate adulthood. Hearing what Schoenbrun had to say really cemented my feelings and thoughts about the film.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a big influence on the movie (it's why Amber Benson makes a cameo as Johnny Link's mom). Even though I don't have the same emotional link to Buffy since I never watched it, I recognize it as the same type of warmth I experienced growing up with Riverdale. When Owen says he feels like his insides have been scooped out but that he's too afraid to look and have that wrongness everybody knows is there be confirmed, Maddy simply responds "Maybe you're like Isabel. Afraid of what's inside you." Tears forming but not falling, breathing shallowly, I grabbed the paper and pen the theater keeps at the seats for people to order food with and wrote that line down - the slip of paper is still somewhere in my car. Writing it now almost feels lame in its simplicity, but it felt like my insides were being flayed open.

During the director discussion, Schoenbrun talked a little bit about this idea of how truly fucking bizarre it is to grow up in the suburbs. Like, when we think about the pinnacle of normality in American culture, it's the image of middle-class cis-hetero-white suburbia. At the same time, despite this cultural dream of normality, everybody is hyper-aware that the suburbs are one of the least normal things ever. So, the ACTUAL cultural understanding of it is that it's where we go to, like, passively kill ourselves (*George Costanza voice* WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY YOU KNOW!). This idea isn't new, I mean there are so many films and shows about navigating that specific bizarre dissonance from Rebel Without a Cause to Heathers to Twin Peaks. Probably half the pre-teen to teen TV I watched obsessively growing up, stuff like Strange Days at Blake Holsey High, Making Fiends, Truth or Scare, and eventually Riverdale, were never shy about being weird and morbid and saying "yes, the suburbs are exactly as bizarre and lethal in the ways you can already feel in your bones at 13." I Saw the TV Glow does a really good job of keying not only into that mental dissonance but more specifically into how those of us who have felt so intrinsically weird and different and wrong fell back on these shows like they were capable of doing the emotional version of a rescue breath maneuver after being drowned.

In high school, if there were two things about me that any person who even vaguely knew me could list off it was that I watched Riverdale, and I was a lesbian - and I was mocked more for the Riverdale. At that age, I was, without a doubt, the most miserable I have ever felt in my life. I rarely left the house because my family lived in a development that made me want to scratch my skin off when I walked out our front door. Owen didn't leave the house for days, afraid Maddy could somehow force him out. I sobbed constantly and frequently to depressing indie rock on the floor of my closet while hoping my family would just once read the (honest to god) KEEP OUT poster plastered on my door since I didn't have a lock on it. Owen didn't leave his room for days, afraid of what Maddy recognized in him. I didn't go on dates and kept my chest binder shoved to the bottom of my bookbag while wearing dresses that could've come from a how-to-be the perfect 50s housewife manual. Owen didn't leave his bed for days, afraid of Maddy touching his neck and Isabel's dress. I also watched Riverdale with the kind of zeal you see in a Pentecostal who has found God and started speaking in tongues to let you know it. I own a button that says, "Don't Make Me Go Dark Betty On You," I cherish it in a way that is only achieved by knowing exactly how corny and trite it is and then moving straight past that because well actually, and most people wouldn't get this, she's holding back something deeply dark and wild and- and disgusting. something painful yet intrinsically her. but i get it, obviously. or maybe not obviously! hopefully not obviously, but- basically, I'm just saying I get it: the experience of reflection and recognition through the other and all that.

Whatever, the point is that this movie is one big glaring trans allegory about how it sucks dog shit to live in the suburbs, and even at our most repressed we find these little snow globes of actualization in the glow of a tv screen that isn't afraid to show you the world you see. I've seen some people say that, like, in this context accepting or coming into your transness is this monumental death of self, which I get, but I feel there lacks a nuance in that because either way Owen is dying. Unlike Maddy who buries herself alive only to come out renewed, Owen doesn't kill himself upon facing the reality that the world is constructed to keep him miserable and the only way out is to take back what it is that the world wants to keep scooped out of him. Instead he just passively lets it drag him to a much more permanent death. This lack of suicide sucks in the kind of way that forces you to sit in your car on the midnight drive home and think to yourself am I letting myself suffocate because at some point knowing the misery became less scary than admitting I've been capable of doing something about it the whole time?

Clearly, I’ve been enchanted by the film’s narrative and meta-textual language. If you're familiar with it, you can see how Schoenbrun built this movie like a long-form dream episode of a canceled teen show filmed in Vancouver. Lynchian? Yeah, sure. Riverdalesque? THIS we cannot possibly deny. Schoenbrun said they included Amber Benson as an act of healing the inner rage experienced at Tara’s death in Buffy. This is a Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa ending Riverdale with a bisexual polycule after his gay Archie play got ceased-and-desisted type move. There’s probably more I could say about the soundtrack and the visuals, but I’ve hit over 1k words on this, so I’ll leave it at I enjoyed this movie a lot. :)

Maddy is an out lesbian who left town to escape the misery and found it strapped to her ankles. She slinks out, an animal pressed against the gymnasium floor, and says "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Owen looks into the camera and narrates. He cuts himself open with a box cutter, fully acknowledges what's there, and the movie ends with his suffocating apology parade for the unremarkable inconvenience of his excruciating suffering. You can be gay and trans, you can know it and you can stop repressing it, but you're not going to stop suffocating until you can find a way to destroy the part of you that truly deeply does want to die, reaching for the comforting euthanasia of normalcy. Stop visiting the dream of the life you want and make it into your reality with the same kind of unrepentant conviction seen in some underfunded but wildly ambitious teen television series. In other words: you must try to survive the ego death of being weird. A weirdo, who doesn't fit in and doesn't want to fit in!

[charmedreincarnation]

My sucess story

Trigger Warning: Abusive, homophobia, mentions of suicide

Hey there, Maya! I just had to take a moment and express my appreciation for all the fantastic posts you put out. I can now confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, that shifting is real, manifesting is real, and so is the void. Our desires and ambitions aren't in vain.

I've been part of the shifting community since 2020 when it exploded on TikTok. It might not matter much, but as a gay man, I rarely saw other guys in the community (though Reddit and Amino have a more diverse crowd). I've always felt more comfortable in women-centric spaces because they tend to be less judgmental.

I never saw success stories from guys, especially the kind I wanted to see - like waking up in a new world, not just manifesting money or a girlfriend (or boyfriend in my case >.<). I've always been spiritual and interested in witchcraft, voodoo, deities, and now manifesting and shifting. But it felt like nothing would let me shift.

Growing up with homophobic and physically abusive parents, struggling with poverty, depression, homelessness, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and more, I began to feel like you could only manifest and shift if your life was okay. I didn't have the luxury of time or safety to practice methods, constantly dealing with noise, verbal abuse, or physical violence.

Then, I read this post

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/14v4lw3/how_to_shift_the_next_time_you_go_to_sleep/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=2&utm_term=1

It led me to your Tumblr because OP used some of your old posts and talked about the concept of the void. All searched lead to tumblr. A couple of months ago (2.5 ish) after one of the worst days of my life, I went to bed sobbing, trying to block out the noise around me, praying and crying for anything - death, shifting, a new identity...

Everything around me started to fade - it was as if I was being engulfed by a white, serene blanket of nothingness. It was completely silent, and I couldn't see or feel anything. The only thing that seemed to persist was my awareness.

Now, I've read about the void before, but mostly in the context of it being a black, empty space. So, I'm not entirely sure if what I experienced was indeed the void or something altogether different. The concept still baffles me a bit, but I'm learning and growing through these experiences.

Regardless of where I was, my heart was set on reaching my dr.I kept praying and hoping, to wake up in my DR.

I woke up in my Twitch streamer DR! I found myself in a completely unfamiliar yet perfect place. My room was equipped with a high-end PC, top-notch gaming gear, and quaint decor items. Milo, my dog, was there too. I was sharing a mansion in LA with my boyfriend and four other streamers. The house was beyond my imagination, and streaming here was a dream come true. As night fell, my friends and I explored the vibrant LA nightlife, creating lasting memories.

After a week, i can’t lie I almost forgot I had shifted here. Then, I set an intention to shift back into this reality but where I had moved out, lived with my best friend and their supportive parents, mastered shifting and manifesting, had my desired looks, and money came easily to me. And it worked!

Since then, I've been living my best boujee gay life, and I shift all the time. I even created a waiting room where I'm immortal and use it whenever I need a break. I wish I could offer better advice, but like everyone says, there isn't a key to shifting. It's different for everyone. But you can and will shift. You can manifest your dream life. You can and deserve to be happy

Oh my god, I'm so happy for you, love 💕💕. I also completely related to what you felt. I know it can seem like your circumstances are holding you back, but believe me when I say this - that couldn't be further from the truth.

It's that same resilience, and your ability to persist despite the odds, that paved the way to your dream life. There’s nothing, I mean nothing that can stop you. Not wavering, crying, or doubt. Nothing. If you want it, it’s yours.

[girls-alias]

Caught - Demon Dean Winchester

Title: Caught - Demon Dean Winchester Words: 5,109 Relations: Demon Dean Winchester X reader. TW: Smut, rough, Threatened SH, SPOILERS.

@angelofdarkness69 asked:

Demon Dean Smut 😈❤️‍🔥😈❤️‍🔥

I walked into the bunker, slightly out of breath as I rushed here. Sam had called me but I was away from my phone. He left a message where he sounded completely panicked, he said that I was needed at the bunker and that it was about Dean. I dropped everything I was doing to rush there.

I stumbled down the stairs, looking frantically into rooms as I rushed down the hallways.

"Sam?" I called out, looking around and wondering what was going on.

"Y/N," Dean's voice spoke behind me. I spun around instantly relieved. He's okay, he's alive. Why did Sam call me? I smiled brightly, backtracking to run to him. He was holding a hammer for some reason and watched me a little confused. He dropped the hammer happily accepting my hug. I smiled brightly, hugging him as tight as I could knowing the whole 3 hours drive it took me to get here I thought Dean was dead or was dying. Tears escaped my eyes the whole way here. I must look pathetic, I barely see them all year and now I show up crying and most likely completely overreacting.

"Oh, my God. Dean I thought you were dead," I commented, pulling away to smile at him. He seemed to study me a little longer than a normal person would. The thing is, I am crazy about Dean and can never tell if he likes me as more of an acquaintance. I raised an eyebrow waiting for him to say something. He smirked, my mood instantly lifting just from the sight. I have never seen anyone ever look at good as Dean. I've seen a lot of hot men in my life but none of them are anything compared to Dean.

"Why'd you think I was dead?" He asked, a smirk still present on his lips. I chuckled softly, a little awkwardly.

"Sam left me a message saying there was something wrong and it was about you," I explained and he nodded, taking in my words.

"And you drove straight here, crying the whole time?" He seemed to ask but his voice was flat. I chuckled dryly. Wiping under my eyes to hide some of the evidence of my emotional state from earlier.

"Well, yeah. I thought you were dead. I was mourning," I sassed but his smirk grew, eyes looking deeper into mine than they normally did. Maybe something is wrong with Dean. I grew suspicious.

"I wouldn't mourn you," He stated simply, I shook my head with a scoff. Smiling as I watched him study my expression.

"I don't doubt it, you're like a robot without feelings," I joked, he pulled a face as if he was proud of it. My eyebrows furrowed slightly, he didn't have a snarky remark to come back with, there had to be something wrong.

"I would agree but I have some emotions," He replied as if the answer was simple but I looked at him confused. He's being serious, what's he saying? He smirked watching me. "Like right now I feel like kissing you, seeing which room it leads to," He commented. My breath hitched in my throat. He wants to kiss me?! I parted my lips to say something but nothing came to mind. He smirked, stepping closer to me. I backed away, instincts telling me that something was wrong, my inside begging to see what would happen. He continued smirking, advancing till my back hit a wall. He grinned when I had nowhere to go.

He continued towards me, closing the distance till he was practically pressed against me. I gulped studying his eyes as I internally begged him to kiss me like I always did around him. He leaned down, hand on the back of my neck. He pulled me in the rest of the way till our lips crashed together. He kissed me roughly. I had imagined kissing Dean thousands of times but I never imagined it being like this. It was almost as if he needed to kiss me or he wouldn't live another day. I placed a hand on his chest while the other found the back of his hair. He smirked against my lips, his tongue sliding into my mouth with ease.

Butterflies flew through my veins, my whole body melting into the kiss. His hands held me roughly, the hand on the back of my neck keeping me close, a hand on my waist holding my body against his. I moaned softly as he held me tighter.

A whirling sound echoed through the halls before a small siren sounded. Dean didn't seem to care as he didn't react to the sound. I pulled away, looking down the hall as the lights dimmed and turned red. I looked back at Dean confused. He looked emotionless. My eyebrows furrowed as to why he seemed indifferent about the lights and loss of power. I opened my mouth, about the speak.

"Y/N!" Sam shouted, I looked down the hall as Dean did the same. Dean smirked at him. "Demon," He announced pointing at Dean. I quickly looked at Dean as he smirked and flashed his black-covered eyes at me. I punched him as hard as I could, his hands falling from my body as he held his cheek. I ran to Sam watching slightly as Dean looked pissed.

I ran with Sam through the halls, Dean wasn't running. Strolling casually. "You could have warned me," I argued quietly as he guided me through the halls.

"I didn't have time," Sam tried but I scoffed.

"It takes two seconds to say the word demon," I argued. He shushed me as we turned a corner and he stopped me. We listened closely as Dean walked around, a raised voice as he taunted Sam with how he escaped. I'm a little lost about what happened but there is a demon in Dean and that's my only concern right now.

"Dean is the demon, it's not a possession it's Dean," Sam whispered. I looked at him baffled.

"What the fuck? Why didn't you call me earlier?" I asked, fighting my wish to scream at him.

"I thought I had a handle on it," Sam shrugged not believing himself. I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

"Clearly," I whispered back, sassing him with sarcasm. I swear, these boys get dumber and dumber every time I see them. Sam looked at me uneasy as the power came on. I rolled my eyes as he rushed around the corner and closed the door to the electrical room where Dean was.

"Really, that's your big move?" Dean's voice was slightly muffled by the door but he showed no emotions in his tone. Why did he kiss me? I understand that he was probably messing with me but he had the perfect opportunity to kill me and he didn't. It's just weird.

"Listen to me. We were getting close, Okay?" Sam explained through the door. I rolled my eyes knowing he was a hopeless fool thinking he could talk this out with him. He doesn't have a soft spot he can get through to... Or maybe? No that's stupid. But.... No. Okay, maybe. "I know you're still in there somewhere. Just let me finish the treatments," I thought quickly as Sam waited for a response as if we didn't all know the answer was going to be violence. "Dean?" Sam jumped back as a heavy thud hit the door. I rolled my eyes.

"You act like I want to be cured," Dean grunted as he broke the door down from the inside. I took a deep breath, knowing I was either going to die here or live long enough to do something incredibly stupid and then die in this bunker. "Personally, I like the disease," Dean smirked evilly through the hole in the door he had created. My heart races. Mentally preparing for my own stupidity.

"Dean, stop that. Look I don't want to use this blade on you," Sam shouted, trying to gain some control of the situation.

"Oh, that sucks for you, doesn't it?" He asked sarcastically. "Cause you really mean that," He chuckled before slamming a hammer into the door again.

"If you come out of that room I won't have a choice," Sam tried, trying to sound strong.

"Sure you will! and I know which one you'll make," Dean taunted, knowing Sam didn't have the strength to kill his own brother. "Isn't that right Sammy?" I had gone ignored this whole time. I grabbed my gun from the holster strapped to my hip. Dean's eyes found mine through the hole in the door. He chuckled dryly. "Oh, you're going to kill me?" He asked sarcastically. I gulped. "You're in love with me, you wouldn't hurt me. I was surprised you even punched me and now you're going to shoot me?" He asked annoyance in his tone along with a taunting smirk.

"You're right," I spoke softly, my heart racing. He smirked stepping back ready to take another swing. I watched as his eyebrows furrowed before his eyes widened. He watched intently as I raised the gun, barrel pressing to my right temple. He looked at me slightly angry.

"Put it down," He instructed through gritted teeth. Keeping his voice down so he didn't scare me. A tear escaped my eye unconsciously. "I said, put it down," His voice showed his venom.

"Y/N, what you doing?" Sam asked looking at me like I was crazy.

"You said you only felt one thing, I was that one thing. You break that door down, you don't finish the treatment or if you even glare at Sam I'll pull this trigger faster than you can apologise," I explained simply. Emotions leaving my tone. Dean seemed to recognise that I wasn't bluffing. He lifted his hands, slowly dropping the hammer. I gulped. My life rests in Dean's hands.

"Just put the gun down," He spoke softly, his eyes looking pleading.

"I'm not putting it down until you're tied up and cooperating," I explained. He nodded, his eyes lowering and I could see he admitted defeat. I can't believe this is working. I didn't realise Dean cared for me this much but I'm glad he does. "Sam," I instructed without words.

Sam opened the door for Dean, stepping back in case he tried anything. He seemed to study me before scoffing, I worried he had tricked me.

"The safety-" He started. I aimed the gun up taking one shot before putting the gun back to my head. Sam and Dean flinched at the sudden shot.

"I'm not bluffing," I explained coldly. He studied me, heart rate increasing before he put his hands up and led the way to the cellar. He kept his eyes low as he took a seat in the metal chair but studied me as Sam tied him up. Once Sam confirmed it was clear I lowered the gun. Putting the safety on and unloading it. Dean seemed to take a deep breath of relief.

It was a while before Dean was conscious again, I gave him some of my blood since we have the same type, something we figured out years ago when he was electrocuted and in hospital. He joked he was going to keep me around in case he needed blood. I smiled softly at the memory. Cas had joined us, explaining he was already on his way to save us but was shocked we had it under control.

"How'd you do it?" He asked, looking between Sam and me. Sam and I had already explained the lead-up to what I did. Sam wondered how after so much human blood he could still want to be a demon. Cas explained it was easier to feel nothing than the pain of being human. I thought it was poetic.

"Y/N appealed to his human heart," Sam explained cryptically. I rolled my eyes.

"I threatened to shoot myself," I explained with a shrug. I couldn't take my eyes off Dean. Watching as his head was limp unconscious.

"Even as a demon he's in love with you," Cas commented, seemingly in a world of his own. My neck almost snapped as I quickly looked at him.

"What?" I asked, the word falling from my mouth.

"Dean's in love with you, even as a demon. Did you not know?" He asked as if it was a complete shock to him, his eyebrows furrowed as he watched me slightly.

"No, what makes you think he's in love with me?" I asked, a scoff wanting to come out but it wouldn't like it was too scared.

"Because I say it all the time," I looked over at Dean as he lifted his head. His eyes were black but soon dissolved back to the beautiful green. I watched amazed. Gulping slightly at his words. Sam splashed some holy water on his face. Definitely human. I smiled softly.

"Welcome back, Dean," Sam smirked, proud to have his brother back.

I stayed off to the side as Sam untied Dean. Cas waited in the library while we got Dean situated. He kept looking at me, a guilty expression on his face but every time I smiled softly. Dean hinted that he wanted food and so Sam took it as his hint to leave Dean and me alone.

"Y/N," He started as soon as the door closed behind Sam. His voice was full of sorrow. I shushed him as I closed the distance between us He was sitting on his bed, he watched me closely as I smiled at him. I let my body work without my brain being involved. I climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He looked completely shocked, his hands to his sides like he was scared to touch me.

"Shut up," I smirked, leaning in as I pulled him in by the back of his neck. I connected our lips, he seemed dazed for a second before his lips moved against mine, his hands hugging my waist as he kissed me back. His tongue entered my mouth with ease again. He smiled against my lips as our tongues danced.

I wrapped an arm over his shoulder, keeping him close as his hands explored me. They ventured down to my ass, squeezing harshly, a moan escaping my mouth and entering Dean's. He grunted, enjoying the sound. It reminded me of the grunts he had done when breaking down the door. I thought of how he kissed me even when he was a demon, the roughness, the need magnified and I could tell he was holding back now. I pulled back, quickly moving my lips to his neck.

He moaned, his head falling back as I sucked open-mouthed kisses onto his neck. "Y/N," He moaned breathlessly. I smirked as I continued kissing his neck. "I want you to move in," He explained. I paused, shocked slightly at the progression. Just 30 minutes ago I found out he loves me, not he's asking me to move in while we're finally enjoying each other. He pulled back to study me. Pleading eyes. "I'm sorry to spring it on you, I just. I've thought about it a lot and after today I can't trust myself to be alone with Sam and if I'm being honest I'm afraid of this," He explained gesturing between us. I looked at him sadly. I've thrown myself at him. I'm being ridiculous. He's just turned human again and I'm initiating sex. I'm sick.

"Sorry," I commented absentmindedly as I moved to get off his lap. His hands found my hips stopping me from getting up.

"No, I'm scared that I'll ruin it. Cas was right though, I am in love with you, I don't just want to have sex I want the real thing, the love, the relationship, all of it. Good and bad," He confessed, worry riddling his expression. I smiled softly.

"Dean, I want those too. You're not going to ruin it. I was willing to die for you less than an hour ago. You think I would do that for anyone else?" I asked rhetorically. He chuckled, noticing his mistake. He grinned widely.

"So, you'll go on a date with me?" He asked, the grin only growing wider.

"Of course, you goof," I chuckle, leaning in to reconnect our lips. He smiled against my lips his hands gripping me harder.

"Maybe we should stop," He commented, pulling away slightly. I looked at him expectantly wanting to know why. I'll get off of him if he wants me to but if he thinks that I want to then he's wrong. "I don't know if it's the leftover demon inside me, or if it's pent-up frustration or finally kissing you but I don't think I can contain myself," He confessed. His expression was thoughtful as he stared into my eyes. I smirked.

"Good," I answered simply, reconnecting our lips. He smirked, understanding my intentions. He snaked his arm around my waist, pulling my body closer to his. I smirked against his lips. He bit my bottom lip. Smirking as he pulled back. I glared at him with hungry eyes. His hands gripped my ass tighter, holding me against his body as he stood up. I squealed slightly surprised he was strong enough to lift me with no effort. Dean smirked against my lips. He turned around, lowering me onto the bed as he came down with me. Settling between my legs and hovering over me.

My tongue fighting his as I crave more of him, all of him. His hips seemed to fit against mine comfortably, perfectly. Like he was made to be there. His hands explored my body before finding the neck of my shirt and ripping it open. I squealed, my lips falling from his from the surprise. He wasn't joking about not being able to control him. I smirked excitedly, quickly reconnecting our lips. He ripped the rest of my shirt off my body. I'm glad I wasn't wearing a bra today, who knows if he was strong enough to rip that.

I moaned as his warm hands traced the lengths of my chest. His fingertips softly rubbed my body in a gentleness I didn't expect. It was like he was trying to map out my body with his hands, to memorise every pump and dip. I gripped his shirt, pulling it up before disconnecting our lips to lift it over his head. As the fabric passed his face he smirked, smiling happily as he moved back in to kiss me. My hands explored his back muscles as they contorted to my touch. He bit my bottom lip, pulling back a little before releasing it and starting. getting up. I smirked, watching him with hungry eyes. No matter how often I see Dean shirtless it will always weaken me.

He swiftly unbuttoned his jeans before stepping out of them. I gulped as I watched his dick press against his boxers, clearly hard and above average. He smirked as he watched my reaction clearly pleased. I blushed as he moved closer, grabbing the hem of my pants, I lifted my hips as he pulled them from my body. He trailed his hand up my leg, sending shivers down my spine as he reached closer to where I was wet for him. I gulped as he was close. He pushed his fingers between my sensitive skin and underwear. I smirked. He saw this as consent and slowly started pulling my underwear down. When I lifted my hips again he quickly pulled them off me, like if I didn't he would have stopped. I smiled at his adorableness. He stood up straight, putting his thumbs into boxers and slid them past his hips.

His dick sprang free. My first instinct was for my jaw to drop open but I bit my bottom lip to keep my mouth shut. I giggled as he smirked at me. He came back to me, hovering over me as he kissed me. I moaned as his tip poked my inner thigh. I reached between us, grasping his dick as he moaned against my lips. I smirked, the sound I didn't know I needed to hear but will forever be in my mind. I stroked the length of his cock as my pussy grew wetter. Even the thought of him makes me wet but this is making a waterfall.

His cock was so hard I wondered if it was hurting. I smirked against his lips as I removed my hand from between us and flipped us over so I was on top. I straddled him, his dick pointed up to the ceiling as I sat high on his thighs. He smirked, biting his bottom lip as he watched me. I smirked as I looked down at him. I leant down, kissing him as his hands moved down my sides and rested on my hips. I lifted my hips, moving my hand between us as he smirked against my lips. I licked his bottom lip, his tongue soon meeting mine. I grasped his hard cock, holding it steady as I lowered myself onto it.

I gasped against his lips as he smirked. He moved a hand to the back of my neck, pulling my lips back onto his. I lowered myself further on his cock. Moaning as he filled me and reached deeper than I thought was possible. I wanted to scream in pleasure as it throbbed inside me, I bit his bottom lip. I pulled away with hungry eyes. He looked at me deeply, admiring me as my eyebrows contorted with pleasure. His smirk grew as I adjusted to his size, a short pause before I began rocking my hips. He breathed through gritted teeth as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. I moaned at the sight.

I rocked my hips against his, my head falling back as the pleasure consumed me. Dean's hands found my hips, pushing and pulling me softly as he pushed his hips into me. I moaned as his tip pushed against my G-spot. Dean's groan made me feral. I wanted nothing more than to hear it again. I sat up fully, His dick reaching deeper inside me, a soft scream escaping my lips before I hurried to cover my mouth. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I quickened the pace. Dean's hands still guided my hips as he moaned, watching me and where our bodies met, his dick buried deep inside me. I placed a hand on his firm chest, using it to anchor myself.

God, he's amazing! The familiar feeling of an orgasm edged closer. I moaned as he pushed deep inside me, his tip kissing my G-spot again. "Fuck, Dean," I moaned, looking at him with hooded and needy eyes. He smirked, biting his bottom lip as he continued. "Fuck, if you keep going I'm going to cum," I managed through my laboured breaths.

"Cum for me, Y/N," His voice was pornographic. It was enough to make me do anything he wanted. I would act like a dog for this man if he asked me to. My thoughts clouded as my orgasm grew an inch closer. He seemed to recognise this as he lifted his hips, and my G-spot hit with a force I knew would make it hard for me to walk properly later. A scream escaped my lips as my orgasm peaked. Dean moved his hand to my mouth, quietening me as he continued pushing into me and rolling my hips with his hands. My legs clenched his side as my orgasm overtook my body. He groaned as my walls clenched around him, his laboured breathing becoming more jagged as he gripped my hips a little tighter, bruise causing tightness.

My orgasm subsided as he helped me ride it out. I practically turned to jelly in his hands. He smirked, moving his hand from my mouth and easing my upper body towards him. I smiled kissing him as his hands found my hips and lifted them slightly, my eyebrows furrowed with confusion before he bucked his hips up to meet mine. I moaned into his mouth, his tongue entering mine with the opportunity. His tongue silenced me as I tried not to scream. He thrust into my G-spot, pounding it relentlessly. He moved a hand to my cheek, pulling away a little to rest my forehead on his. His heavy breathing mixed with mine as a light coat of sweat formed on our bodies. I gasped, whimpering as I tried not to scream.

"Fuck," I moaned louder than intended but it seemed to cheer Dean on as his thrust became more precise. I moaned, my eyes rolling back, his tip hitting my G-spot with every thrust. The knot in my stomach came back quickly. "Fuck, Dean. I'm getting close again," He grunted at my words. His speed picking up slightly. He leaned up to kiss me, his tongue entering my mouth as he now knew I was the screaming type. His tongue silenced me as my orgasm peaked once again. His hand on my hip holding me securely my body shook from the power of the orgasm. I have never felt something so powerful. He fucked me through my second orgasm, slowing as he recognised I was coming down.

I pulled back, breathing heavily he lowered me back down onto him. I whimpered as I took all of him in again. He smirked kissing me sloppily as I wondered how he was doing this to me with ease. "Get on your hands and knees," He instructed. His tone was dark and his eyes piercing. I gulped, nodding excitedly as I kissed him quickly before getting off of him. I felt empty as I climbed off him. He rolled from under me so I could get in position on the bed. My knees were barely on the bed, my hands holding up my upper body as he stood at the edge of the bed. His hands found my hips. I moaned as he slapped my ass harshly. I bit my bottom lip.

He held my hips in place as he lined up his tip to my entrance, pulling me in slightly as he pushed into me. I moaned, eyes rolling to the back of my head as my head lost all weight. I whimpered, biting harshly on my bottom lip. His hand moved up my back before settling between my shoulder blades and softly pushing me down. I rolled my hips forward as I lay my chest against the bed and arched my back.

"Fuck," Dean moaned, his hand moving trailed up my back and found my hips again. He held my hips steady as he started to slowly fuck me. His pace practically quivered as he resisted going faster. I moaned, the pace making me weak. His grip on my hips was as strong as steel, keeping me in place. He moaned, breathing in through gritted teeth as he picked up the pace. My head fell limp as I moaned, his hips now pulling me in to meet him in the middle, his dick hitting my G-spot and massaging my walls. I gripped onto the bed sheet, biting down on my arm to silence myself. Whimpers escape my lips. "I want to hear you, baby," He commented, his breath laboured. His hand found my hair, pulling slightly so my head was up, neck extended and making it impossible to silence myself. My moans fall freely and loudly. "Fuck, just like that," He commented.

"Fuck, Dean!" I practically screamed as he pushed down on my hips to reach a new angle. The knot in my stomach contorting and tightening.

"Fuck, I'm getting close," He moaned. My body grew weak at his words and voice. My orgasm teased me with being seconds away.

"Me too, Dean. Fuck," I moaned. His hard dick throbbing inside me, hitting my G-spot.

"Mmm," He hummed before his nails dug into my skin. I moaned, my orgasm beginning to tip over. "I'm gonna cum," He practically shouted through his moan. My walls clenched around him as my orgasm peaked, his thrust still rough and deep but sloppy. A scream escaped my extended neck as his cum shot forcefully deep inside me. He grunted. Pushing deep inside me with each spurt of cum he shot into me. My orgasm seemed to last longer, his cum making it peak each time.

He breathed heavily, his hands staying on me as he stood still. My legs grew shaky as my body went limp. My breathing was erratic as he slowly pulled out of me. I practically collapsed on the bed as Dean chuckled lying beside me. I chuckled, admiring him as he grinned at me. He lifted his arm, waiting for me. I crawled up a little, snuggling into his side as he wrapped his arm around me. He smiled up at the ceiling as I blushed. If I had known the sex would be this good I would have made a move the day I met him. He looked down at me, moving some hair from my face as it stuck to some sweat on my face. Dean looked heavenly, the sweat looking like it was painted on his body perfectly as if an artist had the smallest brush in the world, working for hours to make it. He pulled me in with the arm around me, kissing the top of my head as I smiled.

"How about," He started, looking down at me with a smile. I smiled, turning slightly to put my hand on his chest and placing my chin on the top of my hand, admiring him as he talked. He chuckled slightly, his smile never fading. "We'll take a shower, get you cleaned up. Maybe some shower sex if your legs aren't too weak." I blushed at the thought. "We'll go get you things for you to move in and go on a date?" He asked, tucking some hair behind my ear as I smiled. I bit my lip nodding enthusiastically. His smile beamed as he admired me. He leaned down, and I met him in the middle connecting our lips. The kiss was sweet, sincere as if with a loving couple. I smiled as I pulled away.

"Dean," He looked at me expectantly. I blushed as I smiled. "I love you too," I added. His smile spread across his face as he leaned back in to kiss me. I giggled against his lips as he smiled. This is perfect.

Masterlist

Working On

An extremely long chapter but I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know in the comments if you read it all so I know if you guys like long chapters or want me to make it shorter in future. Thank you! 💜💜

[kunshokunsho]

I've come to your asks a few times before, and it's crazy to think I only found your blog in march. I'm bad with reblogging and commenting and such bc of compulsions, but genuinely you're my favorite artist, and I want you to know that. you draw my comfort character in a style that feels very welcoming and safe, and I really can't thank you enough. I've never seen something from you I don't instantly love, and even if you stop posting one day, I don't think I'll ever forget the warm feeling that so many of your art pieces bring me.

(also the way you talk about jay is the most relatable thing ever)

I wish I could do more to share my appreciation and spread your work to a larger audience. I'm sorry I can't get myself to comment all the positive things your artwork makes me feel when I see it, but please know the effort you put into every piece is much appreciated. and the things you draw genuinely can make someone's day a bit better

-🍄 (I guess you can consider me mushroom anon from now on... asks from march 3 and april 16 were also me, if you're curious)

have a good day / night, kunsho!

oh my god thank you so much,,, this is genuinely the nicest thing someone has ever said to me and you’ve made my year 😭😭 i will continue to work hard to give you and everybody art to enjoy :)))) <33 (also any type of support helps dw abt it :) )

(and here’s a jay just for you(im gonna assume jays one of your favorite characters if you follow me..))

[bitethedevil]

More Than Our Fathers (Raphael x Demigod!Reader): Chapter 1

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five

Read this on AO3

Summary: It was in the years after the Fall of Netheril that fate decided to push the two of you together: the daughter of the God of Divination and the son of the Archdevil of the Eighth. An unlikely pair, but you learned throughout the years that you had more in common than you thought: you were both driven by ambition and you both longed to become more than what your fathers made you.

Word count: 4,968

(Notes: Note that the Reader is named. Her (your) name is Sibylla. I just need to name my characters, I can't even explain it. It literally just means 'Prophetess', if that helps. There is a lot of lore in this one and you can see me explain more in depth on AO3 if you care about it. I'm so excited for this one. For once, I've actually got everything planned instead of my usual 'fuck it we ball' attitude to fics. This chapter is essentially the backstory of their relationship. The majority of the plot will take place from the time of the BG3 canon events. We just have to speed through 1600 years of backstory before that lol)

You were the daughter of a mortal woman and the god Savras. Your father had many titles: Savras the All-Seeing, the Lord of Divination, He of the Third Eye. Once a mortal wizard with an exceptional talent for the art of divination, Savras ascended and became the god of wizards.

You were blessed to have been old enough to remember your father’s greatness and cursed to live long enough to see his fall.

Savras the All-Seeing had been challenged by the powerful mortal wizard, Azuth, and lost. Azuth rose to power as your father fell. It is said that he lost on purpose because he saw something in his visions that was yet to happen. It was a decision that many of his faithful worshippers said demonstrated the wisdom and insight of their god. Wisdom and insight, they called it…You called it docility and wasted potential.

Azuth imprisoned your father in a magical artifact that would later be known as the Scepter of Savras, in the hopes that he could harness Savras’ powers and use them for himself. The scepter disappeared before Azuth’s plan could come to fruition. More than a thousand years after the imprisonment of Savras, the scepter was found and Azuth agreed to release him if he swore a pledge of fealty to him. Savras accepted.

Unfortunately, the scepter displaced itself immediately after Savras’s release, taking with it the majority of his divine powers. Once again, the Scepter of Savras had disappeared and it continues to be lost, constantly moving, with only a chosen of Savras or someone with a touch of the divine being able to wield it. Someone like you.

After his fall, Savras went from being the god of wizards, to the god of divination. He became little more than Mystra and Azuth’s lapdog. A mere shadow of his former glory. You had never been close with your father, but his downfall made him a disappointment to you. After he fell, you felt ashamed to be related to someone as foolish as him. He had wasted his potential.

A potential that you would happily exploit yourself, should you ever get your hands on the Scepter of Savras and claim your father’s old powers…

You were born with an innate gift for divination magic. It made you a sorcerer by technicality, though you would eventually study and become a powerful wizard as well, following in your father’s footsteps. Sorcerers were widely looked down upon by the wizards that made up for most of the population of the city you were born in, though you had been a special case because your father was still the god of wizards at the time.  

Your powers allowed you glimpses into the future. Your visions were quite random, though they became clearer with age, and you had found a way to strengthen them: by physical touch. When touching another person’s skin, you were able to look at the threads of fate and time that bound them: their past, their present, their future. You only needed to know what to look for.

You were born in the kingdom of Halruaa. It was the same place your father had once lived before he ascended and became a god. It was a land of magic in the southern part of Faerûn. The magocracy of Halruaa had once been created by Archwizards who had foreseen the fall of Netheril and fled the empire.

You yourself had been born a few hundred years after Netheril’s Fall, but you vividly remembered the stories of Karsus’s Folly that were told to you by some of the old Netherese refugees. It was because of one of those survivors that your own threads of fate were to be bound to Raphael’s.

It was about 250 years after Karsus’s Folly and some hundred years before your father would fall to Azuth in battle. You were at the very beginning of your immortal life. Your mother had died when you were just a child. A 500-year-old wizard by the name Melesmer had taken you in and he became like a grandfather to you. You looked up to him, listened to his endless reminiscing about Netheril and clung to every piece of wisdom he bestowed upon you.

Melesmer was most likely the last person alive to give first-person accounts of the old empire at that point, but he was also at the end of his time. Old age was starting to eat at him despite the magic that had slowed his aging. When you were only twenty, you had seen him die peacefully in his bed in one of your visions. You knew you only had a year or two left with him, but you did not have the heart to tell him that.

Melesmer spoke Halruaan like you, but the more his old age started to eat at his memory, the more he started rambling to himself in Netherese. Sometimes it seemed as if he had completely forgotten everything around him and found himself back in Netheril. You had learned just enough of the Netherese language to understand what he was saying over and over again:

“They are screaming and crying…” he would mumble in Netherese while his eyes looked empty. “The children. They are under the rubble. Our children…”

You had one day come home from the market and you heard the sounds of talking coming from inside the house. There was nothing odd about that in itself. You were used to young apprentice wizards visiting Melesmer every now and again. They would often be seeking out the old wizard’s wisdom or wanting to listen to the stories he told of the old empire.

What made you stop in your tracks, was the fact that they were speaking in the common tongue. Melesmer never managed to adopt the same skepticism towards foreigners that was commonplace for the born and bred Halruaans who feared that outsiders would come and steal their magical secrets.

You put down what you had in your hands to go and see who this foreigner was that was visiting.

You entered the room and the man in front of Melesmer looked up at you briefly. The man looked young, around twenty like yourself. He had brown hair, brown eyes and was dressed in expensive Halruaan silks, no doubt in an attempt to fit in with the local customs. The young man gave you a brief polite smile before turning his attention back on Melesmer.

There was something odd about the stranger and you felt it immediately. You put your hand on Melesmer’s shoulder, to interrupt his talking and ask him about his guest.

“Grandfather,” You greeted in Halruaan and then nodded to the stranger. “Who is this man that you are talking to?”

“Sibylla, dearest,” Melesmer answered in Halruaan. “This man has travelled far to hear about the fall of Netheril and Netherese magic.”

“Raphael,” Melesmer said in the common tongue, addressing the stranger. “This is my ward, my pride, Sibylla. She is the greatest seer in Halruaa there have been since her father became a god and left the city all those years ago.”

“Grandfather,” You said sternly, warning him not to speak any more of it in front of this stranger.

“Is that so?” Raphael asked. His eyes had lit up by what Melesmer had said, and his smile widened. He got to his feet and walked closer to you.

“I swear it,” Melesmer said, the old man’s voice full of pride and his soft features turned into a bright smile.

“What an honor,” Raphael said and took your hand. “It’s not every day that one meets the daughter of a god.”

Raphael looked you in the eyes and placed a kiss on your hand.

You took the opportunity of the touch to figure out who he was and what he wanted.

When Raphael touched you, a vision flashed behind your eyes, and you saw what he really was. You withdrew your hand from him immediately, as if you had been burned.

“Leave,” you hissed at him. Magic was crackling around your fingertips in warning.

Raphael smirked at your realization.

“Grandfather, this man is a devil. This vermin is taking you for an old fool,” you said to Melesmer while not taking your eyes of Raphael for a second. “He is a son of Mephistopheles himself.”

By his reaction, Raphael seemed to at least know the Halruaan word for ‘devil’, and his smug expression faltered slightly at hearing his father’s name. Melesmer blinked in confusion and looked at Raphael.

“It is quite rude to talk over one’s guests. Especially in another language. My Halruaan is rather unpracticed these days, so I will simply assume that whatever you said was a compliment,” Raphael said smoothly with a tight-lipped smile and narrowed eyes. “I am not here to harm anyone…I am merely seeking information.”

“You’re seeking the Crown of Karsus,” you said to him.

Raphael looked genuinely taken aback for a second, but quickly returned to his smug self.

“I am…” he said.

“Your father has it in his vault where it will stay for at least a thousand years more,” you said coldly. “You’ve got more than what you came for, cambion. Leave.”

He looked at the ground as if in thought for a moment and a flash of fury washed over his face, though you got the sense that his anger was not pointed at you. His fists clenched and his eye twitched slightly before he looked up at you one last time.

That look sent another vision through you, this time manifested through a feeling: familiarity. This would not be the last time you saw him.

“Thank you…” Raphael grumbled and then snapped his fingers. He disappeared in a flash of smoke and embers.

You would not see each other again for another couple of hundred years, but ever since that day the devil was keeping an eye on you.

You changed a lot as you grew older. After your father’s fall, you completely discarded his teachings and dogma. You were not supposed to use your sight to further the goals of others or to meddle with fate, and you were also supposed to only ever tell the truth of your visions. You threw it all away and started your new life, cutting the already fragile and barely-there bond to Savras.

You had long since left Halruaa behind. Your services became well sought after and your reputation as a powerful seeress quickly spread throughout Faerûn. Your reputation often proceeded you whenever you arrived in a new city, and you rarely ever had to seek out your clients yourself.

You whispered in the ears of dukes, emperors, and kings, ensuring their rise or their downfall, depending on how you felt about them and how they could further your goals or fill your gold purse. It came with enormous power. A few whispers in the right ears could mean the rise to power for one person, while hiding parts of the truth could make another walk carelessly into their own doom.

Even though you were a savior to some and a villain to others, it never changed how many wanted your help. Your luck was that dead clients usually could not complain about your services and if anyone dared to question how your earlier clients met their demise, you would simply tell them that they did not heed your warnings.

You quickly became well-known and your recognizable features, that spread both awe as well as fear amongst the smallfolk, worked to your advantage. You had the silver hair and ghostly pale eyes of your father.

The widespread myth about you went that your ghostly appearance was caused by you looking into the future and seeing something that terrified you so much that your eyes and hair lost their color. What you had ‘seen’ varied depending on the region you were in, you noticed. Some say you had seen your own death, some the end of the world, while others had a whole third wilder theory. You never had it in you to tell them you were simply born that way.

It pleased you to no longer be known as Sibylla, the daughter of Savras. You were simply Sibylla the Seeress, now. Your own person and removed from your father, who you hoped would be forgotten to time eventually.

It was in the then young city of Athkatla in Amn, that you would run into Raphael again, a few hundred years after your first meeting. Your client in the city was amongst one of the city’s most powerful men. A rich merchant by the name of Bernard Barth.

Barth was an old and greedy man who had grown paranoid in his last days. He was certain that the younger rising star amongst the city tradesmen, Garrick Mordell, was out to steal his place amongst the nobility of the city.

Barth was an excruciatingly frustrating client. He was a loud, opinionated, and stubborn man. His son, who would one day take over his father’s business, was even worse. They were the perfect image of the overindulgent upper class. It was so clear that they had never had to struggle a day in their life, and it irked you, but the Barth family’s generous payment for your services were more than enough to sway you to stay.

You were sitting in Barth’s opulent office, and the two of you were waiting for someone. You had seen who would be joining you in your visions: a middle-aged dark-haired stranger. You did not think much of it before the man entered the room.

You immediately recognized that there was something about him. He dressed like all the other upper-class citizens of Amn, but you could have sworn that he looked familiar. As if you had seen him somewhere else, though you could not quite put your finger on it and no visions sprang to your mind.

“Raphael,” Barth lazily mumbled in greeting. “You’re late.”

“Saer Barth,” the man greeted with a bow and a smile. “My deepest apologies.”

That voice and that name. You had definitely met this man before, but where? You would have to touch him to learn more about him.

You rose from your chair and held out a hand to him.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met before,” you said with a smile. “Sibylla.”

“Raphael. A pleasure to meet you,” Raphael said with a smile and shook your hand.

Your brow furrowed slightly when no visions came to your mind at the touch. You looked down and noticed that he was wearing gloves. You kept smiling politely but your eyes narrowed at him. He looked at your expression with a teasing smile, before sitting down and turning his attention to Barth.

You were barely listening to what Barth was rambling about. He wanted Raphael’s help for getting rid of his competitor, though you could not figure out how exactly. All you learned were that Raphael seemed like a man who had good connections. Besides that, it sounded like Barth’s usual paranoid speeches about Lord Mordell’s rise, so you tuned him out.

You were much more interested in who this man was. He seemed so familiar and yet it escaped you who he could be. Your eyes kept drifting to Raphael as you tried to place his face in your mind. At some point he caught you looking. He looked back at you with a knowing smirk, which only made you even more frustrated.

He knew who you were, there was no doubt about it, you thought. Now you had to figure out who he was. If only you could somehow touch him, if only for a brief moment.

“That’s the short of it,” Barth grunted after rambling for about an hour. “We will reconvene tomorrow and see if you can come up with a solution. Leave me.”

Barth waved the both of you away with his usual rude and entitled manner that you had grown so accustomed to. You both left the room, and you walked slightly faster to catch up with Raphael.

“Saer,” you called to him. “A moment of your time, please.”

Raphael turned around and faced you with a smile.

“Yes?”

You got a chance to study his face a bit closer, but it still did not ring any bells. There was just an overwhelming sense of familiarity.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” you said. It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Have we?” Raphael asked with a mock innocent expression. “I am quite certain that I would recall if I had met someone like you before.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. A look in his eyes told you that he was playing with you.  

“Yes, we have,” you said. “Who are you?”

His smile widened.

You got frustrated and reached out to grab him, trying to pull his gloves off or get your fingers under his coat.

“My! Aren’t you eager?” Raphael laughed and raised his arms so that you could not reach them. “I did notice how you were stealing glances at me in there. I’m afraid I’m not interested, dear.”

You reached out to touch his face instead, but he dodged it.

“We know each other!” you said stubbornly and pointed at his face.

He laughed at your frustration.

“So insistent,” Raphael said and pulled off his glove.

He held his hand out to you, and you took it. A vision passed your mind’s eye. Your eyes widened in recognition. Then your brow furrowed, and you looked him up and down.

“A pleasure to see you again,” he said smoothly.

“You got…old?” you said with a slight sneer. “You looked younger when we last met. I thought your sort didn’t age.”

“I look more matured, not old and we do not. My appearance is by choice,” Raphael explained.

“Why would anyone choose to look old?” you asked. “Eternal youth is one of the few upsides of immortality.”

“I do not look…” Raphael closed his eyes and sighed, before changing the subject. “You are taking all this in stride it seems. I would have expected more hostility from you once you remembered me. Not at all that fiery young girl I remember meeting all those centuries ago, it seems.”

“Things changed,” you said with a shrug. “I’m just trying to make a living. Same as you, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” he said with a smile before changing the subject. “I heard about what happened to your dear father. The great All-Seeing robbed of his place in the Heavens and trapped in a stick that no one seems to be able to locate. What a shame.”

“A scepter, not a ‘stick’,” you said. “What’s it to you?”

“I merely wanted to offer my deepest condolences,” Raphael said with a smile that showed the complete opposite meaning of his words. “I do wonder if this is the reason for this little rebellious streak of yours. I hear all sorts of surprising things about you these days, little goddess. Recently, I’ve heard rumors about a certain powerful noble in the city of Illusk whose family met a quite brutal death when a horde of orcs had invaded the city district that he ruled over…”

Your pale eyes narrowed at him. You knew exactly what he was talking about, but he should not be able to know about that.

“So?” you asked with slight shrug and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Don’t play dumb, dear,” Raphael purred. “He was a client of yours, was he not?”

“He was,” you said. “And?”

“One has to wonder why you neglected warning him about this. I also find it such an odd coincidence that the High Captain of the city seemed so well-prepared for the assault, though he did not spring to action before after the horde had marched through your client’s district. The High Captain who, coincidentally of course, was also known to be very outspoken about his low opinion of your client.”

“Yes,” you said with another shrug, smiling. “What an odd coincidence.”

“Isn’t it just?” Raphael said with feigned wonder.

You looked him up and down. You had to at least be impressed by the fact that he had managed to do his research so well.

“I told the High Captain, and he offered me a small fortune if I did not warn my client of the assault,” you admitted. “As I said…I’m just trying to make a living…”

Raphael chuckled.

“My dear, you would put some devils to shame,” he said. “I wonder what old Savras would think if he knew what his daughter were up to.”

“Couldn’t care less,” you said coldly and avoided the subject. “Are you spying on me or something?”

“’Spying’ is such a cynical term. I’m keeping an eye on you, yes,” Raphael said. “You seem like a useful person to know. Not to mention, I find you deeply fascinating. Especially now that you are no longer clinging to the boring and rigid dogma of your father.”

It irked you that he kept mentioning Savras. Especially when his own relationship with his father seemed to be at least as messy as your own, from what you saw when you touched him.

“You keep bringing up my father,” you said with annoyance and defensiveness. “Should we talk about yours instead? I saw plenty of interesting things to talk about when I touched you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Raphael said with a hint of annoyance, though still smiling.

“I thought not,” you said with a smile. “What are you doing here? Out for old Barth’s soul?”

“Did your little visions fail to reveal my intentions to you?” Raphael asked.

“What I saw was a mess of contradictions, which suggests that you are undecided on the matter, so no,” you said and looked him up and down. “All I really care about is if you intend to kill my current employer.”

Raphael smiled.

“Would you be opposed to it if I was?” he asked.

You raised an eyebrow at that. There might be an opportunity here, you thought.

“In principle, no. Let the old bastard rot in the Hells for my sake,” you answered coldly in a lowered voice in case anyone was eavesdropping. “Though the old bastard in question is still paying me a ridiculous amount of money, so what do you have to offer in return if I let you?”

Raphael’s smile widened.

“Perhaps, you and I are not so different after all,” Raphael said in a lowered voice as well. “You help me procure the soul of both old and young Barth, and I will give you all of the gold that Lord Mordell has offered me in exchange for their demise.”

Your eyes widened a bit at the revelation. Perhaps Barth had not been as overly paranoid as you had thought. Mordell really was out to get him it seemed. Though Raphael must have been instrumental to his plans because you had not seen any threats of Barth’s demise in your visions yet.

“How much gold are we talking?” you asked.

“Fifteen thousand,” Raphael answered casually.

Your jaw almost fell to the floor. That was twice the amount you had managed to squeeze out of Barth during all your time with him. At the time, it was enough gold to buy a house or two.

“And you would just hand that over to me?” you asked in disbelief. “I find that very difficult to believe.”

“I’m a devil, dear. Gold is of little use to me. The economy of the Hells runs on souls…” Raphael explained.

You studied him for a moment. You were interested in the idea, but you had to make sure that you were not letting him somehow rope you into a deal. You would also have to be sure that this would not be traced back to you.

“I will encourage them to sign your deal. You will pay me half before their death and the rest after. I don’t care how you mean to kill them, but make sure it’s not too messy and it can’t be traced back to me. You will also leave their wives and children alive…gods know they’ve suffered enough by having to deal with those two idiots…And I am also not signing anything.”

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” Raphael said with a smile. “Fine. We have an agreement.”

As soon as you received the vision of your client’s demise, you left the city. You were staying in an inn, well on your way to Esmeltaran when Raphael popped up out of nowhere. You jumped at his sudden presence. He snapped his fingers and a bag of gold appeared on the nightstand. He looked around your room before seating himself in an armchair.

“Not quite living accommodations befitting a demigoddess, I would say,” Raphael said while looking around at the shabby room of the inn you were staying in.

“I don’t like staying in one place too long,” you said. “You’ve handed me the payment...”

“I have,” he said with a smile and snapped a bottle of Amnian dessert wine and two glasses into existence.

“So…” you said and made a shooing motion with your hands. “Go. Leave.”

“Is that any way to treat a business partner?” Raphael asked and feigned offense. “Where are your manners?”

Raphael smiled at you and held out a glass of wine. You looked him up and down and reluctantly took it.

“To us,” he said and clinked glasses with you.

You were looking at him with a deadpan expression.

“You are getting off on this, aren’t you?” you asked. “The fact that you managed to strike a deal with a demigod. That’s why you keep talking about it, isn’t it?”

“Perish the thought,” Raphael said and sipped his wine. “Can I not simply be thrilled about managing to strengthen the bond between myself and an incredibly useful acquaintance?”

You rolled your eyes and sipped the wine.

“This is a one-time thing,” you said. “And I would really appreciate if you stopped spying on me.”

“You are making it very difficult for me to do so when you are so fascinating to spy on,” he said. “I don’t see why we should not do this again. I think you would find it quite useful to have friends in low places with the direction you are currently headed in, dear. We could be good for each other.”

“I can see how my moral compass is a bit all over the place at the moment, but that does not mean I want to work with you, cambion,” you said and sipped your wine.

“You keep calling me that, as if it is meant as a slight. I am what I am…Although I do much prefer the term ‘devil’,” Raphael said. “I have long since raised above the station of a simple cambion.”

“I’m sure you prefer that, but it doesn’t make you any less of a cambion,” you said. “You are a half-mortal, like me, and there is no running from it. You are no more a devil than I am a god.”

“What a depressing way to view things,” Raphael mused and swirled the wine in his glass. “We are what our father’s made us, are we not? It is their blood that ensures that we are still alive, where had we been mortals, we would be long dead. It is their blood and the powers granted through it that has gotten us here. It is evident to anyone that there is nothing mortal about us, and yet you cling to the notion. Do you really think that we cannot be the same as our fathers, if not one day more than them, simply because we were once carried in mortal wombs?”

What he had said struck a chord, but you were never going to admit that to him.

“Thank you for the wine…and the philosophy lesson,” you said in a stern tone. “You should go.”

Raphael smiled at your urgency to get rid of him.

“I am sure you will warm up to me eventually,” he said. “We have an eternity to get to know each other, after all.”

His persistence was starting to truly infuriate you. You were not going to be business partners, or even acquaintances, with a fiend. You had heard all the stories about the vermin of the Lower Planes, and you did not want to be associated with them. It was beneath you.

“No,” you quickly said and emptied your wineglass before putting it on the table. Your eyes turned threatening. “You will leave me alone after this, do you understand? I am not interested.”

He chuckled at your growing hostility.

“Or what?” he asked with a smile. “Will you smite me, little goddess? I am at least a couple of thousand years your senior, do you really think you could take me?”

Raphael walked closer to you until he was right in front of your face. He was still wearing his smug smile.

Your eyes had turned thunderous at the blatant provocation, and magic was crackling over the skin of your hands in warning. Raphael looked down at your hands, without moving his head.

“Should we find out?” you asked with a tight smile.

His eyes drifted from your hands and back to your face. He was still smiling as his eyes went from the smile on your lips to your pale eyes. You saw a hint of admiration in his eyes. He lifted his hand, ready to snap.

“We will see each other again, Sibylla,” he said in a low voice and then snapped.

He disappeared in a flash of smoke and embers. 

[lookinghalfacorpse]

Okay but can we talk about cdoomsday trio and how all three of them have some sort of connection to gods/goddesses and godhood.

Philza: The Angel of Death, literally MARRIED to the Goddess of Death, immortal, ancient. Idk if the hardcore worlds are canon to cPhil but if they are then he literally has relations to multiple other gods as well.

Techno: Literally called The Blood God, the best fighter on the server, with skills def near god-like, if you think about it, then the bell is pretty much a holy item/symbol for cTechno and ringing it could count as preyer. Also wasn't I might be wrong but wasn't he like basically immune to the Egg and it's bs? Sounds pretty god-like to me.

Dream: Man-made immortality thanks to the revive book(and Punz), it was said in the finale that they found out more stuff besides just reviving people(ex. they found the End dimension), literally just the revive book itself, like he can literally bring people back from the dead. Then there's the fact that he's the Admin of the server, so that has to be something. THE FACT THAT GOD STOLE HIS FACE.

Basically they're all either gods or mini gods. Love that for 'em <3

this is a huge reason why doomsdaytrio is so compelling for me. they make my theology student heart flutter.

what they have in common is that they didn't start as gods.... presumably. i've seen some headcanons and theories about ctechno and cdream's pasts where they're very intertwined with godhood (and i'm personally invested in cdream's past with xd), but there doesn't seem to be much canonical evidence of it. instead, we're looking at three men who painstakingly transformed themselves into gods, whether by gaining the favor of one, getting the reputation of one, or harnessing the powers of one. i love the idea of these three having an alliance when they're all in different stages of attaining godhood, and their godhoods look different, and a DIFFERENT god has dream's face, and we don't know why.

there are definitely ghost stories told around campfires about the winged angel of death, who never misses a shot on his bow. there are warriors who ring bells before battle to summon strength and power. given more time, there would surely be legends about the man who knew death well enough to beat it.

[muzicgenerator]

pls could u do a tom kaulitz angst? like he’s arguing w reader and mentions something he knows the reader doesn’t like bringing up, and he has to make it up to her, then it can turn into fluff <3

yep here it is!!

hope u like it and sorry for late reply T_T

(BRO OHHH MY GOD THE ORIGINAL STORYLINE DIDNT SAVE 😭😭😭 so i just made a new one which is this one AGHHH SO MAD RN btw i didnt proof read the entire thing)

⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Atonement

✮

Pairing: Tom Kaulitz x Reader

Genre: a bit Angsty, Fluff

Warnings: None

Request Status: closed :(

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Last Night on Earth : Green Day

Playful bantering was one of the things you and Tom would do everyday in your relationship.

Sure, serious arguments would rise up which a simple kiss and genuine apology would quickly fix.

However those two won't do it right now.

"The hell do you mean I have trust issues?!"

"What?! It's true! Your ex cheated on you so you're scared to trust me; It's not like I'm gonna do what that guy did!"

Definitely, Tom shouldn't have brought your ex up who has no relation to this quarrel.

He knew how much of a prick he was to you and how he treated you; he even witnessed how devastated you were when you once came to him to seek comfort when you found out for the second time he had been cheating.

And he knew damn well you never wanna hear about the jerk ever again.

However, you did appreciate him admitting he wouldn't repeat the history you had with your past lover.

"The fuck, Tom? That bitch has no connection whatsoever about what we're fighting about right now.

And I saw the way you looked at her! It's like, if I didn't interrupt you both would've shared spits by then." enraged by what he said; you raised your voice to match his volume - which was unlike you since you're the composed one out of you two during serious arguments.

"Sorry but he kinda does! This issue you're having surely started with him. I remember the way you wasted your snot and tears on him and I dried it off.

And please stop being overdramatic, she's just a fan and I wanted to make sure she's happy. Not only with her; I mean with everyone of them!"

Tom tried hard to defend himself instead of admitting his wrongdoing.

"You are such an ass for bringing that shit up again when you know damn well your ass had issues too that I helped you get over with and all I've ever done was try my greatest to understand and care for you!

All I ever wanted was for you to stop looking at other people and look at me.. Am I asking for too much?" your voice whispered in offence and slightly croaked which made you resent yourself more.

Tom realized with wide eyes of what he had done,

"No, no of course not ____. No, look- I'm really sorry for what I said, I really am and-"

"Just shut the hell up, Tom. Save it, I don't wanna hear it right now." you harshly brushed past him to storm off to your apartment's bedroom in fear of hot tears falling down to your cheeks.

He sighed; ashamed in himself. Tom truly regrets letting those harsh and unnecessary words slip his blunt mouth. He knew he was better than this - definitely, he should control his mouth more and think about what he should say carefully during times like this.

The night spent alone in the bed you'd always share with Tom felt cruel.

Not for the reason he's not by your side; it's rather the fact that you're in bed without properly making up with him since you'd always forgive one another the same day.

A big part of you wanted to forgive him - believe that he truly didn't mean what he told you and only accidentally slipped because of the heat in the moment; that we all say things we don't mean when we're mad, and that he really wouldn't stab you on the back with a woman like your past lover did.

The smaller part of you scolded for being such an idiot; for believing a man would stay loyal - that you should call it off before he could do any further damage.

Honestly, you felt devastated just thinking about not being with him; so you eventually came into terms with yourself that the fire will settle down and you'll forgive him and he'll do better.

Don't know when it'll die down but it will. Hopefully soon.

Some relationships are worth fighting for, like you have with Tom.

Hence you will stay strong and prepare for many wars.

But tonight; you wanted and allowed yourself to fall asleep being upset and disappointed at Tom.

You'll let tomorrow do its thing.

✮✮✮

It was the next day and the back of your head was pounding alongside a stiff neck.

You sat up and glanced at the digital clock placed on your night table that read 11:37 AM.

After stretching your limbs out while reminiscing the night before; you decided it's time to wash your face and start making lunch for yourself.

When you turned the knob and pushed it open; you were greeted with the aroma of your favourite dish; one that was always served to you as a child when you still lived with your family - one that you shared its recipe and process with your lover.

"Tom?" you asked in disbelief. You were certain he had left since your ears picked up the sound of the front door being pushed open then close in the middle of the night.

Certainty assured your mind that you'd rather not see his face first thing in the morning after such a night. Boy, were you wrong.

Your lover turned his head quickly; unaware of your presence since he's so caught up finishing, as well as perfecting the dish.

"Oh- love, you're awake. I um.. made breakfast but you didn't get up and it's uh, it's almost time for lunch so I thought I'd make your favourite." he stumbled over his words; which is bizarre.

"The pancakes are on the table, you can eat them later as a snack."

You nodded your head with a tight lipped smile and mumbled a thanks before heading to the bathroom.

Once the door had shut; you quickly drowned your face with water to remove the image of Tom cooking without a shirt on.

It's not like it's the first time you've seen him like that; but the way you're reacting right now is how you feel when you catch him in these types of situations - preferably without the post-fight shit going.

After peeing, washing your hands, brushing your teeth washing and drying your face, and doing your skin care - you forced yourself to go back outside for you cannot stay in the bathroom forever.

When you opened and closed the baby blue painted door; your eyes wandered off to the table and drooled at the sight of the newly cooked meal.

Tom patted the seat beside him with a smile; gesturing you to sit beside him.

You had no choice but to join him for lunch; after all, you are starving.

Instead of giving in to his request, you sat in front of him.

Instead of painting a frown on his lips; he still kept his genuinely proud smile (from cooking such a delicious dish) and handed you your plate and utensils - to which you accepted.

"Let's eat?" Tom asked.

"I don't wanna eat without talking about last night." you said with a straight face.

The man in front of you softly breathed a sigh,

"You're right." he agreed with a nod

"I'll start by saying I'm really sorry, and I didn't mean what I said. I just want you to know I would never even dare to think about betraying you like that, and I was an ass for what I did." Tom seemed to look everywhere but your eyes.

He couldn't bring himself to look at your mesmerizing hues for he was certain his shredded heart would be turned into dust.

"I don't even know why I said those things, I- I know this sounds like bullshit but I swear I really don't mean those things and you're the only person who I have my eyes on.

Please give me another chance I- I'll be better now, promise!" he trailed off and fearfully continued;

"But y'know if uh.. if you don't and wanna call it o-"

"Shut up Tom we're not breaking up." you sighed

"I know you said those to defend what you did, and it slipped out because of the heat of the moment. We all say shit we don't mean when mad, I understand. But what I don't understand is why you'd caress her cheek and look into her eyes like that?" your eyes examined his facial expressions and only saw genuine regret on his face. You hoped he'd look at your eyes and tell you directly why.

Hence, before his ready mouth started to explain; you tell him, "Tom, look into my eyes, please."

You caught the way the ball of his throat bopped up and down; swallowing his saliva. His eyes slowly trailed up from the table to your chest, neck, chin, nose, then eyes.

"She said she'd been a fan since the very beginning of the band's debut. She loved all us a lot, especially me. I asked her if meeting us was a dream come true, she said yeah, and we talked a bit more. Then she asked me to touch her face because she really couldn't believe that it was all happening, which I did."

Tom would look away from the two windows of your soul for a second before meeting again.

He was replied with silence; which kind of scared him.

"____? Please say something."

"For God's sake Tom, why didn't you just start with that last night when I brought it up?"

Tom rapidly blinked once, twice, thrice, then for the fourth time. "... I must've forgot to bring it up because I was so caught up in the moment."

You laughed; a true one, "You mean too focused into bringing my ex up?"

He was speechless by how just a second ago you were dead ass serious, and now crying laughing at what you said.

"Sorry, I'm done laughing now." you giggled before continuing, "Fine, I'll forgive you if you tell me where you went last night."

"I went back to my apartment and did some thinking how to make it up to you and slept there. I went out really early to buy groceries so i can cook your favourite food here."

It was your turn to be speechless.

"...You seriously did that?" you asked with doubt in your voice.

"Yeah, I mean the proof is on the table." Tom chuckled.

You said nothing and finally dug into the 5 star looking meal, soon your lover did as well.

"Sooo, are we good?" Tom hopefully asked after sipping his water from the cylinder glass.

"I guess so." you blessed him with a small smile to which he returned with a big one.

Conversation flowed naturally between you as you ate the savoury food.

If Tom didn't make it as a famous guitarist, he'd definitely be a winner in Hell's Kitchen.

After Tom cleaned put the dishes to the sink; you insisted to wash it since he cooked. He declined numerous times but it wasn't going anywhere since you're more stubborn than him.

"All right, fine. Only if you let me hug you from behind." Tom made a deal.

"Pshh, why're you asking as if you don't do that whenever I do shit in the kitchen?"

Tom rolled his eyes with a smirk drawn on his lips as a reply and proceeded to snake his large hands to your waist; then pressing his chest to your back and resting his chin on the crown of your head.

Nothing could be heard other than the clanking of pans, plates, and utensils, along with the flow of the running water from the faucet.

The comfortable verbal silence and physical contact was very much needed after a fight.

After drying your hands with a cloth; you walked towards the couch and sat with your boyfriend still embracing you from behind.

"What do you wanna watch?" you turned your head to the side to look up at his face.

"Whatever you want, I'm fine with anything." Tom looked down to your eyes, then lips.

Slowly, he leaned his fave closer to yours so he could taste your lips.

Once contact had been made; you couldn't help but melt even more to his touch and wrap your arms around his neck - and he couldn't help but deepen the kiss and caress your waist and back.

Soon enough, the passionate kiss had come to an end to catch their breaths.

"I love you so much. You know that, right?" Tom stared into her hues as the tip of their noses touched.

You slowly nodded and brought your hands up to his hollow cheeks, "I love you more." you said before pulling his face closer to kiss each other's lips once again.

Tom mumbled in-between the kisses, "I love you the most, sweetheart." before deepening it. His tongue soon entered your mouth and both your hands rubbed and caressed your bodies.

The hot post-fight make out session would last as long as half the length of the movie you played in the middle of the session; playing Atonement for the millionth time from your entire life.

After pulling your mouths away due to your jaws hurting; you slept and cuddled like babies.

Feeling the safest in each other's arms.

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k words

warnings: asshole!steve, explicit language, alcohol use, drunk!steve, angst 

summary: you still don’t like him and he doesn’t like you, but things are a bit more bearable. and when steve is drunk and needs your help, you actually decide to help him

CHAPTER THREE | ❝𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅❞

As minor as it was, that night at Steve’s apartment changed something over the next few weeks. 

Of course, you still didn’t like him and he didn’t like you— that was something that you knew would take a lot to change— but it felt a bit different now. That hint of animosity you felt for each other was channeled into you matching his asshole nature with a quippy attitude of your own, and him not seeming to mind you doing so. 

It made things feel a little more bearable, and you actually found yourself not hating every single moment of being his assistant. But you still ended each day feeling exhausted because of the fact that you were juggling doing two jobs and working yourself to death to make sure everything was right; there were barely any moments where you could actually get a breather. 

You found yourself cherishing sleep more than you probably ever had before. The barely six hours you’d get pretty much became the highlight of your nights, as depressing as that probably sounded. Therefore, when you were abruptly woken up in the middle of the night by the loud sound of your phone ringing, you groaned. 

You rolled on your side to grab it and saw that the call was coming from a random number.  

Somehow your mind immediately went to your parents. You didn’t talk to them a lot, for reasons that you tried not to dwell on too often, but you couldn’t help but think that a call from a random number in the middle of the night usually never meant anything good and most of the time it was a family related not-good thing. 

“Hello?”

“Hey.” It was Steve’s voice on the other side. 

You let out a small sigh in relief and then quickly became a little annoyed. “It’s one in the morning on a Saturday. This better be good, Harrington.”

“So, I, uh, need a little help,” He said, and there was something about the sound of his voice right then that fully woke you up. 

You sat up in your bed and a small laugh almost fell from your lips. “Oh, my God. Are you drunk right now?” 

Steve being drunk was something you never thought you’d see, or in this case, hear. In fact, the possibility of that happening never once crossed your mind because he seemed way too serious for that. You could see him having the occasional drink here and there, but full-on drunk seemed like a stretch. 

“I hate how happy you sound about this,” He said with a scoff. “But, anyway, I can’t drive right now and my phone is dead so the bartender is letting me use his to call someone to pick me up.” 

Hearing that confused you, making your eyebrows furrow. “I’m the only number you know by heart?”

“I don’t have you saved in my phone so anytime I text or call you I see your number and I've accidentally remembered it at this point,” He explained. 

“Of course that’s the reason,” You responded with a roll of your eyes that you wish he could’ve seen. “Do you even know my name?”

He sighed at that. “Of course I do, I swear I hear someone say it at least five times a day when they drone on and on about how helpful you were at solving some issue or whatever the fuck else on set.”

You smirked at how annoyed he sounded. “Aw, are you jealous that you’re not the star of the show?”

“Well, I am the lead of the movie, so maybe I am a little jealous.”

“I’m quite flattered.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” He said and somehow you could practically hear him rolling his eyes. It was both hilarious and satisfying to know just how much you got under his skin even when he was drunk. “Are you gonna come or what?”

You mock gasped. “Wow, that’s really not the way to talk to someone that you need help from. Especially when that someone is really only supposed to be available to you during filming hours. And last time I checked, a night shoot isn’t scheduled until this Wednesday.”

“Can you please help and come pick me up?” He asked in the most deadpan voice you probably ever heard. 

“For an award winning actor, the delivery on that line was pretty shitty,” You said as you laughed a bit. “But, I’ll still come get you. What’s the name of the bar?”

“Uh, I actually don’t remember. Hold on a second.” You could hear the phone being placed down as Steve began talking to who you assumed was the bartender; you could barely hear whatever they were saying. “Okay, it’s called Ace of Spades.”

You put him on speaker and then went to look up the bar. “What the hell? It says it’s an hour away.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”  

“Jesus Christ,” You said and shook your head as you shut your eyes because you desperately wanted to go back to sleep. “Why did you go there?” 

“Wanted to lessen my chances of potentially getting recognized. The paparazzi would have a field day with this shit.”

That actually made a lot of sense, but you refused to tell him that. 

You got out of bed and began rummaging around in your closet for a pair of sweatpants to slip on over your pajama shorts along with a jacket. “I’m coming now.”

“Thanks,” He said before you hung up. 

That was the only completely serious “thank you” you’d ever gotten from him, and of course, you knew it was only because he was drunk. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The bar was in what felt like the absolute middle of nowhere and it also felt like the sort of place a horror movie would start in. 

The parking lot was practically empty aside from a few cars, one of which you knew was Steve’s, so when you walked in, it was unsurprising to see that the place was also empty. However, you were surprised, or more so creeped out, by the amount of “country” vibes the place emulated; cowboy hats littering the walls along with American flags. There was even a massive deer head hanging up that you inwardly cringed at before turning your attention to the bartender standing behind the counter.   

“Hey, I’m looking for–” Before you could even finish your statement he nodded his head in the direction of the series of booths that were a few feet away, one of which Steve was sitting at with his head down in his folded arms. You gave the bartender a small, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

You sat down across from Steve and leaned back in the booth. You simply looked at him for a brief moment before nudging his leg with your foot underneath the table. “Steve.” 

He only mumbled something that you couldn’t make out and burrowed his head further in his arms. 

With a small sigh, you reached out and began poking his head until he finally sat up and looked at you. “Oh, hey.”

The way he said the two simple words made it sound as if he was surprised to see you sitting in front of him.  

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “Hi? Do you not remember calling me?” 

“Vaguely, yeah,” He said and when you scoffed with a shake of your head, he only smiled at you. “I’m kidding, I remember it very clearly. Me needing your help, and you being pissed at me calling. I feel like that’s how most of our phone calls go, actually.” 

You rolled your eyes at how he easily simplified all of your conversations. “The only reason I’m ever pissed when I talk to you is because you’re being a dick.”

He completely disregarded your statement. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Confused at his words, you looked down at the shirt you had on. It was a white t-shirt that had the Pepsi logo on it, but it said “Sexsi” in the middle of it instead of “Pepsi.” You’d completely forgotten you were wearing it. 

You crossed your arms over your shirt. “I still can just leave you here, y’know.”

“That would suck.”

You almost laughed at that response because he somehow seemed even more drunk than when you talked to him on the phone. And it had been an hour, so he should’ve been at least a little less drunk at this point.

“Did you drink more after we talked?” 

“Ben wanted to cut me off, but I tipped him really big so I could get two final shots,” Steve answered with a smile. “I’m just realizing that his name is Ben the Bartender. That’s honestly pretty fucking cool.”

“Oh, my God. I can’t believe this is happening right now,” You mumbled. A part of you wanted to laugh while the other part of you just wanted to stare at him in disbelief. “If you puke in my car, I will leave you on the side of the highway.” 

“Very, very harsh,” He responded as he leaned back and closed his eyes, but only for a moment because you gave him another nudge under the table.  

“Come on, let’s go,” You said before slipping out of the booth. “You can walk okay, right?”

Steve rolled his eyes at you as if he was offended by your question and then stepped out of the booth, but he only made it a few steps before he stumbled a bit. You sighed as you moved closer to his side, draping one of his arms around your shoulders and wrapping one of yours around him. You started leading him toward the door. 

“Wait, you paid your tab, right?” You asked, but before giving Steve a chance to answer you, you turned your attention toward Ben who was still standing behind the bar and was now cleaning up. “He paid his tab, right?”

“Yeah, he’s all good,” Ben responded and you nodded, glad that you didn’t have to worry about that. You kept heading toward the door and then he spoke again before you pushed it open. “You’re a good girlfriend.”

You knew that you’d never see this guy again so you didn’t care enough to correct the mistake. Instead, you gave him a weak smile and just continued leading Steve out of the bar and toward your car. 

Steve laughed a bit as he settled in the passenger seat. “He thought you were my girlfriend?”

“Shut up,” You said and then handed him a water bottle that you had grabbed from your fridge because you knew that he’d probably need it. “Drink this.” 

He nodded before taking a few sips and then placing the bottle in his lap. “Can I charge my phone?”

“Yeah, the cord’s right there.” You pointed to the center console. 

You had been driving for no more than fifteen minutes before you got stuck in traffic that was nothing like what you experienced driving to the bar. There was a bunch of construction happening that, according to a sign, was going to go on for the next twenty miles. 

“I truly deserve a fucking raise for doing this,” You said as you slumped back in your seat. Your car was barely moving above ten miles per hour. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Steve said in a tone that sounded completely unserious and sarcastic, and then he reached over to pat your head.

You glared harshly at him. “Don’t ever do that again.”

He only laughed a bit at your annoyance and then nodded his head. “Got it.”

From there, you both allowed silence, aside from the music softly playing on the radio, to take over the car, which you were fine with. In fact, you’d take complete silence over hearing whatever dumb drunk comments Steve would make. 

But after only a few minutes of that, you were reminded of a question that had been on your mind probably since he called you. “What were you doing at a bar, anyway?” 

Your question was met with nothing but more silence, and for a moment you actually felt bad asking that question because maybe it was a touchy subject for him. But when you looked over at Steve, you saw that he was fast asleep; eyes shut and leaning back against the headrest. 

You let out a small sigh and continued driving, still barely moving anywhere over the next ten minutes. Conveniently, that was when Steve’s phone started vibrating in the cup holder where he placed it. You glanced down and saw that he was getting a call from someone named “Robin,” and you simply watched as it continued to ring and then went to voicemail. 

You expected that to be it, but then his phone started ringing again from the same person. You hesitated for a brief moment before letting it go to voicemail that time as well. But, it was on the third call that you decided you needed to answer it because apparently Robin really wanted to talk to Steve and maybe them calling multiple times meant that it was important. 

You placed the phone at your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi,” It was a girl’s voice on the other end. “Uh, who is this?”

You could understand her confusion so you quickly said, “I’m Steve’s assistant.”

“You don’t sound like Sheila.”

You were startled by the sudden sharpness of her words, and you quickly came to the conclusion that maybe you shouldn’t have answered the call. You took a breath before speaking again. “Sheila is pregnant and on bed rest, so I’m his assistant for the time being.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I forgot she was pregnant.” Robin said and then sighed. “Sorry for being kinda hostile. Steve’s my best friend, and it’s still so weird having a friend that’s famous. I’m never sure if I’m talking to a normal person or his stalker who’s kidnapping him. Glad to know you’re not a kidnapper.”

“I’m glad too? Sorry, I don’t really know how to respond to that, but I think I get what you mean,” You let out a small laugh and took a quick glance over at Steve and saw that he was, unsurprisingly, still sleeping. “But, Steve’s unavailable right now, so I can tell him to call you back, or I can give him a message if you want, I guess?”

“Yeah, um, just tell him that we missed him at Nancy and Jonanthan’s wedding, and we all wish he could’ve been here.”

Hearing that managed to both confuse and surprise you, but you still nodded your head even though she couldn’t see you. “Okay, got it. I’ll tell him.”

Somehow it was easy to hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” You responded and the call ended from there. 

You took another glance at Steve as you put his phone down back in the cup holder, and it was then that you realized how little you actually knew about him. Yes, the news articles that were centered around him told you things and even the short conversations you’d had with him over the past few weeks of being his assistant told you some stuff too, but none of it really told you anything.

It didn't tell you about his life outside of the film industry and Hollywood, and it definitely didn’t tell you that he was missing out on important moments with friends and family because of filming and everything that came along with it.

Maybe that was what led him to the bar; feeling something that resembled homesickness because he was missing out on an important moment for people that were his friends— or maybe even family; you were unsure of who exactly Nancy and Jonathan were. 

You knew how lonely of a job this whole acting thing could be, you’d been working in the film industry for so long that it was way too easy to see that; and sometimes it was even easier to feel it so harshly in your own way. You couldn’t even remember the last time you actually hung out with friends or accepted an invitation to do something fun with them. Instead, your mind was always on your job, focused fully on production and making sure everything was running smoothly. 

There were little moments where you hated how much you let the job consume your life— surely there was a better way to balance it all— but seeing everything come together in the end made it all worth it in your mind. You wondered if Steve felt the same way too. 

But, if that was the case, then he probably wouldn’t be drunk in your passenger seat on the same night that he was missing out on a wedding that his friends and family all wished he could’ve been at. 

Or maybe that was exactly why he was drunk in your passenger seat. He’d rather drink to avoid the sadness, and maybe even that all too familiar feeling of loneliness, rather than face it or even dwell on it because he believed that all of this would be worth it in the end. 

You were unsure of how right that assumption was— perhaps it was your sleep deprived brain making him seem more human than he actually was— but that potentially delusional thought still managed to change something for you. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was the sound of your front door opening that slightly woke you up. And then it was you realizing that you shouldn’t even hear your front door opening from your bedroom that fully woke you up and made you immediately remember that you had decided to sleep on the couch. 

Many hours earlier, after enduring a near ninety minute drive back to LA, you decided to bring Steve back to your place; mainly because it seemed like it would’ve been too much work to lug him up to his own apartment, and also because, for some reason, it didn’t feel right to simply leave him and go. You let him take your bed and prayed to God that he wouldn't throw up in it before you settled yourself on your couch and immediately fell asleep. 

Now, hours later, you were awake but still a bit bleary-eyed as your attention turned toward the door and you saw Steve shut it behind him. 

He offered you a small smile as you took in the sight of him. Two drinks balancing in one of those cardboard cup holder things in one hand, and a bag with the words “Tommy’s Coffee” branded on the side of it in his other— it was the same place where you would get his coffee and breakfast sandwich from practically every morning. 

Steve set everything on the dining room table. “I had it delivered.”

You nodded at that and walked over to him, the blanket that you pulled from your linen closet to sleep with last night still wrapped around you. 

The exchange was silent. Steve handed you the slightly smaller drink and then a wrapped up breakfast sandwich, and you watched as he took a sip of his own coffee and sat down. 

You took a long sip of yours and almost sighed in contentment at how perfect it was, and then you unwrapped the breakfast sandwich and saw that it was exactly what you would always get. 

Things stayed quiet as you both started eating, and it was a silence that felt weird and awkward. Mainly because what was happening right then was completely unchartered territory. A part of you thought that you’d wake up and he’d just be gone; like the drunk incident never happened and neither of you would bring it up come Monday or any day after that. You definitely didn’t expect to be eating breakfast with him, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant you were supposed to discuss last night. 

Finally, you decided to speak, but not about what would’ve probably made sense to talk about. “How did you know what to get me?”

“Whenever you give me my coffee and food, the receipt is on the bag, and it shows what you ordered for yourself,” He answered and that response actually surprised you, but you wouldn’t ever tell him that. 

“Very observant,” You said and then took another sip from your coffee. You fully expected him to follow up with saying something about how he only remembered your order because it “sucked,” the opening was right there for him to make that sort of annoying comment, but he didn’t. “Um, thank you for this, though.”

Steve shook his head at you as if you shouldn’t have been thanking him. “Thanks for last night. I don’t remember a lot of it, but still,” His shoulders upturned in a small shrug. “You also really didn’t have to let me take your bed.”

“The couch sucks for tall people, and I didn’t want to subject you to that,” Your answer was only partially true, you mainly gave him your bed because, despite everything, you felt bad for him. If he was sad or lonely or whatever else, it would’ve sucked waking up on your old couch which you’ve had for years and probably should’ve gotten rid of at this point. 

“Oh, also,” You started and then immediately stopped talking because you were unsure how to continue. You looked away from him for a brief moment; you were nervous and you hated that you were. “Uh, when you were asleep in my car last night your phone was ringing a lot, so I answered it because I thought maybe it was important. It was Robin, she said she was your friend. She also told me to tell you that you were missed at Nancy and Jonathan’s wedding and everyone wishes you could’ve gone. You should probably call her back when you get the chance.”

He only nodded before simply saying, “Okay,” and then took another bite of his sandwich. 

You became even more nervous, and equally confused, at the fact that things were so normal right then. And it was far from the normal that you’d become so used to with him; he wasn’t mad or annoyed at you, and he was actually being somewhat nice to you and not at all an asshole. 

That made you further think that what you assumed last night was the truth. And there was something about his demeanor right then that told you that maybe he was still a little sad about it all. 

“You know if you had wanted to go to the wedding, I'm sure Jessie would’ve been okay with pushing filming back; she's really understanding of personal stuff. And plus, we’re actually a bit ahead on filming so it probably would’ve been okay having a break for a day or two.”

“It’s not…” He trailed off and shook his head. “It’s not that.” 

It was easy to tell that he didn’t want to talk about it— the wedding, his friends, that part of his life that didn’t involve acting— so you didn’t push him further on any of it, although you were so fucking curious. 

“Okay,” You said softly and then cleared your throat. “So, your car is still stranded at the bar. We should probably go get that.” 

“You don’t have to come. I can figure out another way to get it.” 

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. But I refuse to make that drive three times in a row, so you can drive there and I’ll sleep in the passenger seat.” 

He laughed a bit, it was a sound that was so foreign to your ears but you didn’t mind it. “Honestly, that’s a very fair deal.”

It felt weird to genuinely smile at him but you did so anyway. 

You were unsure what was happening right then, and what things would be like Monday felt like a mystery to you. A part of you wanted it all to go back to how it had been— him being rude and you dealing with it— because this Steve in front of you wasn’t the one that you’d grown to know over the past few weeks.

But then you once again remembered that you actually didn’t really know him. And maybe now you were finally getting a glimpse into that. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

next chapter!

[hyuuukais]

✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

warnings ☆ food mention, mention of stalking in an unserious way

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

☆ mostly written chapter, 3 screenshots ☆

CHAPTER TEN ☆ THE STREAM

The stream starts off smoothly, fans of both of you trickling in during the waiting screen. You had never played Overcooked 2, but watched the gameplay of it enough times to know what to expect. At least, from the game. You had no idea what to expect when it came to playing with Felix. Jisung had tried to help resssure you, saying to think of Felix as 'just some guy'.

Kinda hard when you've been looking up to him for years.

He started his YouTube channel young, around 14. It didn't start as asmr, but with gaming. You quickly found yourself addicted to his videos, loving the way he described things. It helped that he was someone your age, someone relatable. After starting to stream, you'd stay up most nights to watch with Kai or Jisung, sometimes falling asleep to his voice.

And now here you were, five minutes away from the most anticipated moment of your life.

Another concern of yours was what the chat would be like, especially considering the initial hesitation and hate you had recieved just from being friends with Jisung. It hurt to see, but you felt secure in your friendship. No amount of hate could make you doubt it.

"Y/N?"

The interruption made you look up, seeing Felix's icon light up as he spoke.

"Y/N? You there?"

"Yes!" You cringed at your loud response. "Sorry, yes, I'm here."

He laughed. "Before we start, I just want to say I'm happy you agreed to this! I know we barely know each other still."

That was true. You had no idea what made Felix so excited to get to know you. Had Jisung said more to him than you thought? Actually, you don't even know how close those two were if you thought about it.

"Well, I've only had the biggest crush on you since I was like 14," You blurted, silently cursing yourself. Why didn't you think before speaking?! "Oh my god, that's probably the weirdest thing I could have said to you! I'm so sorry!"

"Ehh, I'm used to weird people," His smile was obvious in his voice. "You'll fit right in with my other friends."

Before you could ask what he meant, it was time to begin.

-

About an hour and a half in, you decided it be best to take a break. Both of you did what you needed, coming back with a snack. You advised the chat to grab something before reading questions or comments.

"Y/N, you can start," Felix stood suddenly, holding up his phone. "Chan is calling, I gotta take this!"

"Oh, okay!" You watched as he disappeared, your nerves coming back to you.

Most questions were for Felix, which you obviously couldn't answer, but there were a lot of comments about you both.

"'Your dynamic is so fun to watch, I'm glad I stopped in'," You smiled. "Thank you so much, aw. There's a few people who've said similar things, so thank you too."

You kept reading positive comments, laughing and feeling more at ease after expecting the worst.

"'Y/N you must be feeling pretty good with'... oh," The smile on your face faded and you looked down.

The comment read, 'Y/N you must be feeling pretty good with your success, too bad it's only because of your... 'friends'. You're so boring on your own.'

There were a few people agreeing, saying you were too quiet, that people only liked you for who you associated with, that you'd never be so popular on your own.

It hurt.

When Felix came back, you tried not to show how you were feeling, easily falling back into laughing along with him.

"Okay, last question!" He announced. "Let's see here... 'hey Lix, did you know about Y/N's old fan account?'"

You nearly choked on your drink.

"Actually yes, I did."

You blush furiously, looking wide eyed at his face in the corner, mouth hanging open. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes in embarrassment. Before you could say anything. Felix let out a big sigh and a chuckle, shaking his head.

"Fun fact about me... I love secretly interacting with my fans. I may or may not have a secret account..." It was his turn to blush with the confession. "I have a few favourite accounts and," His voice went quieter, "Y/N this is actually so embarrassing to admit to your face, but yours was one of them. When you suddenly stopped posting, I... I was honestly kinda heartbroken. Of course I didn't know it was you at the time!"

For a few moments, you were quiet. What he said came crashing down on you, and suddenly you couldn't stop laughing- no- cackling. He liked your fan account? No, you were one of his favourites?

The idea was so absurd.

"Stop laughing!" He scolded, but his face betrayed him with a wide grin. "It's not- it's not funny! I wanted the world to swallow me up when I found out you were friends with Han considering I'd been lowkey stalking you on the internet for like 3 years!"

Tears streamed freely down your cheeks, and the chat was blowing up. You could barely breathe, coughing to catch your breath.

"Is that why you were so eager to meet?" You asked once you finally calmed down.

"I wanted to put a face to the name," He shrugged, his own laughter calming down. "I mean, I already knew what you looked like I guess. But still! I never expected the chance to meet you."

The chat kept blowing up, but it was finally time to continue what you were here for -- gaming. After a few more frustrating hours, yelling at each other and attempting to be strategic on who does what (but failing horribly), the stream ended.

At the end of the night, your heart felt full. During your years of being a fan account, you worried Felix wasn't who he showed, but tonight and all the texts up until now proved he was even better.

notes ☆ FIRST WRITTEN PART !! also i'm so so excited to get more into the rising stars plotline bc as much as this is a fun fluffy felix x y/n fic, it's also just as much abt y/n on her own! the actually relationship between y/n and felix may be a bit of a slow burn friends to lovers kinda thing bc personally i eat that shit up. but dw!! there are going to be so many cute parts with the two of them. also are we glad the stream was good ?!?! y/n already needed a break LMFAO

taglist ☆ @marcillfll @toplinelix @neri-ner @tfshouldidohere @imasimplol @samvagejkflxhrt @yennifersgeralt @aestheticsluut @cherryuqii @tenebrisirae @roseidol @veryjeongintxtkid @amara-mars @nobuttpics @bmnyy @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @ellelabelle @gini143 @mrsseals16 @veedoesntknaur

pink means it won't let me tag you

[arcanacenturia]

GOOD OMENS 2 SPOILERS

Something's so not right in S2 though.

The only time we "see" God is whenever she talks to Job and just blabbers stuff at him because she's bored af and doesn't have anybody to speak with except maybe the Metatron.

When Aziraphale tries to talk directly to God in S1, the Metatron tells him "Speaking to me is speaking to God" and categorically refuses to listen to Aziraphale's request.

That's weird. That's so weird.

We have no proof that he's actually relaying all this information to God. She hasn't appeared to anyone in centuries. He's also aware of Aziraphale's will to stop the arma-fucking-geddon.

He's aware of Azi's relation to Crowley.

As I've seen stated somewhere on Tumblr earlier, he's aware that just by trying to perform a teeny tiny miracle together they performed a huge ass one that triggered alarms in Heaven and succeeded in separating the two, because he's aware, and could be scared, of their combined powers.

Okay but why would he need to separate them?

A second too late, he told Aziraphale about The Second Coming, which is most likely linked to a new Armageddon again.

Related to that, we never heard God herself about the destruction of earth. Anything said about it is told by other characters. Note to myself: list up who talked about it.

The Metatron seems to be hiding something. Unlike the other (arch-)angels he's not naïve, he wears a black coat, he doesn't sugarcoat his speech to humans (and my synesthesia says he speaks Spiky, and not a good spiky).

I think it's also noteworthy that Crowley & Aziraphale don't communicate, not with words, Crowley never told Aziraphale about what Gabriel told him but he also never told Aziraphale what he found out about Gabriel in S2. He never told Aziraphale that his bosses were planning to restart Armageddon until Gabriel went Nah, that it's the reason the Metatron demoted him. He demoted the current Prince of Heaven for stopping it, then promoted Aziraphale, who is a lot more tame and also has been a cause of Armagenope to fail, to lead it.

I don't think Crowley fell because he asked questions to God. I think he sauntered vaguely downwards because he asked too many questions to the Metatron, that would put his plan in danger.

This bitch is SHADY AS FUCK and I'm honestly so eager, so curious to see what he (and season 3) is going to bring us. I wonder if he's lived among the humans, too. Besides, I feel like he's going to try (and maybe manage) and use Azi as his marionnette for whatever stuff he's preparing.

And I feel whatever he's preparing is really against God.

Thank you Neil Gaiman for this ending because even if it HURTS it's so interesting. There are so many things that could be going on behind the heartbreak. I could be going on about how Crowley probably even found out part of what happened. I've seen people speculate with good arguments that Crowley lost part of his memory after falling, and if it is the case that could be another thing done to prevent Crowley from stopping the Metatron.

There is SO MUCH that could be, so much that WILL be, and so little that we can know.

No matter in what form, I'm so excited to see how this will develop in the future.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Wouldn't it be twisted if, even after Yubei is born, Macaque still didn't realize the reasoning he lost his eye was because he himself had been a threat to his mate's unborn child until they were in the Scroll of Memory? If he still felt some resentment towards Wukong for that and wad jsut willing to put it aside for the sake of the cub up until he and MK see the battle where Macaque lost his eye, and with rage and anger clouding his senses, Macaque could clearly see how Wukong was trying to tell him something and remained on the defensive until Macaque's younger self made a move towards Wukong's stomach? If he only just then noticed the fact there was a baby bump on Wukong even back then and how Wukong's pilgrim brithers tried several times to step in only to be pushed back by either an angered Mac or Wukong himself (because as far as Wukong is concerned this is a private matter between Him and His Mate and also said mate is his equal in battle and pissed off so please just STAY BACK WHERE YOU CAN'T GET HURT YA IDIOTS!!)

I feel like it would be the point where Macaque really has it sink in that; "Oh gods, he was terrified of me in that moment." Since after a point, he knows Wukong has been pregnant since the start of the Journey through Wukong himself and/or MK.

Cus whilst him and Wukong are sorta back together, they still have "hey remember when you took my eye?" "remember when you tried to kill my master?"-type arguments. To the point that Macaque was relieved that Wukong had "only" gotten himself trapped in an artifact and not walked out on him and had taken the baby with him.

And when he and MK stumble across a fight that he really didn't want the kid seeing? Mac pauses.

Mac sees how his cudgel nearly struck Wukong's stomach.

He sees how his King's eyes flash with rage and how he instinctually slashed Macaque across the right side of his face to disorrient him.

Mac sees how his younger self's vision blurrs with blood and hate and how he ignored a plea from the King that his many ears failed to hear;

"Plums, please! I'm-"

The scene flashes back to the beginning just before they see Wukong move to swing the Ruyi Jingu Bang towards Macaque's frenzied strike.

Macaque in the present day falls to his knees. He watches the scene replay multiple times before MK shakes him from his catatonia. All he can feel around him is the wind of that final encounter.

MK: "...Thats what happened between you two, right? Not just under mountain." Macaque: "Yeah." MK: "You really didn't know at the time, did you?" Macaque: "I should have. If I had just... listened." MK: *conflicted cus he's wanting to comfort Mac, but still needs to find Wukong* *kneels down to join Mac on the ground* MK: "Well, you can start by maybe hearing the Monkey King out a little more on stuff. Stuff you guys fight about." Macaque, wincing: "You know about the fight?" MK: "He was telling me about it while we were cleaning. Before we... found the Scroll... You really think I can't handle what life is gonna throw at me?" Macaque: "I... I don't want you to make the same mistakes I've made. You saw what that leads to." MK: "I'm gonna make mistakes. No matter how well you guys prepare me for it. I'm gonna run into stuff I'l never see coming. I definitely didn't expect a magic scroll to eat my family, or expect a Lion dude you guys used to know taking over the universe... but I know we can fix it together. We just need to believe we can." Macaque: "Just a smidge, right?" MK, smiling wide: "Yeah. Just a smidge." *they share a fatherly-son-like hug* MK: "Now lets go find our King." Macaque: "Agreed."

This is about the point in their wander that they find memories relating to Wukong's relationships after the Journey. How he mourned for centuries under all those friends he held dear.

And how he had to make a hard decision on whether or not to keep a certain brown-furred monkey cub...

[alexxx362]

Ok hear me out here- Imagine Neil knew that he was meant to be prefect court the whole time and genuine hating Kevin because why?Why did he get to have everything? Why did he get to have friends? Why did he get to play? Why did he get all the fame and glory? Sure he had to live in hell just to obtain it but didnt neil also have to live in hell? a difrent kind of hell but hell the same, but he didnt get freinds. He didnt get to play A family (be it a found one). He didnt get fame and glory. All he has is a dead mother that berly even loved him in the first place. Thats simply not fair.

Now! to relate this song to Brutus by the buttress and think about it!! (not the whole song just parts)

"I've been watching him for my entire life I hate the air he breathes, his foolish decrees His words so contrived And I hate the way the townspeople gather outside They hang on every breath, cling to his chest Home to his heart full of pride"

The oracle told him to beware the Ides And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wishing For untimely death or demise (or just his hand being broken)

Or am I just wishing I could be like you? That the people would see me too as a poet (player) And not just the muse (?)

Oh, it's not true, I don't wish harm upon you From birth we've been like brothers of different mothers Within the spirit of the same womb

May the gods (Andrew) strike me down if I forsake you

I'll never forget that you showed me to make art And I know the love you showed me came From a pure and noble heart

I love you, and if you want, I'll call you King queen But why do I lie awake each night thinking "Instead of you, it should be me"?

Something wicked this way comes And as I set to face it, I'm unsure Should I embrace it, should I run? What motivates me? Hatred? Is it love?

What's more wrong; that I too wish to be great Or my mother wished she'd had a son? (the wish she had a son part doesn't make much sense but the vibe does if you get me lol)

And even if I can't be the one Maybe I could at least help make way for him Until the day that he comes Maybe my name could also be known That I helped return good to the people And restored greatness to Rome Brutus, Brutus, Brutus, Brutus! Brutus, Brutus, Brutus, Brutus! Brutus, Brutus, Brutus, Brutus! Brutus, Brutus, Brutus, Brutus! My name is Brutus and my name means heavy So with a heavy heart I'll guide this dagger into the heart of my enemy

My whole life, you were a teacher and friend to me Please know my actions are not motivated only by envy I, too, have a destiny This death will be art The people will speak of this day from near and afar This event will be history, and I'll be great too I don't want what you have, I want to be you

I always knew I could be the one Though I feel the endless pain of being And I am scorched by the Sun Of humble origins and born of the cursed sex My name is Brutus (Nathaniel) , but the people will call me Rex (Neil)

[kindestofkings]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

ryan mcmahon x reader

authors note: this is so sweet and fluffy you'll probs need to visit the dentist, but its for all you ryan girlies out there xx

yourusername

location: italy!

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername italy you have our hearts, lush few days away before pretty boy goes back on tour <33

view 20 comments

ryanmcmahon_15 you could come with me...

yourusername loveee I've got school :(

yourmum photos look fab darlings!

yourusername thanks mam💗💗

elijahhewson about time you give that handsome fella back to me !

yourusername posted on their story:

-yourusername harrys house ready!!!

ryanmcmahon_15

location: harry's house

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

view all 200 comments

yourusername I adore you almost as much as I adore Harry Styles.

bobbyskeetz wow mate thats saying something

yourusername SO proud of you boys!! have come along way since workmans x

(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)

ryanmcmahon_15 my number one supporter the whole time inhalerfan1 who is this girl? inhalerfan2 shes ryans girlfriend! pretty sure they've been dating since they were like 17ish

inhalerfan2 incredible 🔥🔥🔥

inhalerfan3 you made harry’s house a harry home

yourusername

liked by joshjenkinson_ and others

yourusername corporate needs you to find the differences between this picture and this picture...

view all 50 comments

joshjenkinson_ THEY'RE THE SAME PICTURE

bobbyskeetz how hard is it being a sidepiece even tho you've been been dating ryan for 8 years?

yourusername i've become desensitised at this point elijahhewson better to be a side piece over a no piece xx joshjenkinson_ no piece hahah yourusername how are you the same man that wrote if you're gonna break my heart??

inhalerfan1 you get it

ryanmcmahon_15 its not what it looks like....

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername FACT Ireland is beautiful this time of year. FACT my boyfriend is the cutest and I miss him terribly. FACT my brain hurts from school.

view all 15 comments

ryanmcmahon_15 all the hard work is gonna pay off !!

(liked my yourusername)

yourmam forget about that tour business, shes miserable here! ryanmcmahon_15

yourusername mammmmm making me look uncoolllll ryanmcmahon_15 😂😂

inhalerfan1 I just found out about her a week ago but these two are my parents

inhalerfan2 do you mind me asking what are you studying?

yourusername no of course not! i'm doing a phd at the moment in human rights law, in dublin <3 inhalerfan2 no way thats so cool! bobbyskeetz our brainbox !

yourusername

location: holibobs!

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername love a travel moment we do x

view 10 comments

ryanmcmahon_15 you feelin moody with your b&w theme?

yourusername trying to channel my inner lewevans ! hows it working ? lewevans a little too good, please dont put me out of a job !!

elijahhewson hes travelled to more places with me, just saying :))

yourusername yeah but does he kiss you in a photobooth? yourusername ACTUALLY DONT ANSWER THAT I DONT WANT TO KNOW GUGGI joshjenkinson_ you defo dont want to know.. yourusername ahhhhh JOSH

yourusername posted on their story:

yourusername my favourite person dressed up as my favourite singer and I have to watch it through blurry insta lives 😭😭

replies

ryanmcmahon_15 lovieee thought you'd enjoy it, now i feel cruel yourusername dont its literally the best thing you've ever done, never looked hotter!

bobbyskeetz

liked by joshjenkinson_ and others

bobbyskeetz the ryan fella is a scrubbed up even though tour is over? confusion

view all 400 comments

joshjenkinson_ looking good for the big day 🔥

inhalerfan2 explain yourselves please!!!!

elijahhewson officaily lost him 💔

inhalerfan1 oh my god what is happening!!!!

inhalerdublin

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

inhalerdublin it may not be music related news but we have a NEWLY WED in the band, our lovely drummer finally tied the knot with an even lovelier cailín <33

view all 450 comments

joshjenkinson_ crackin day!

elijahhewson still emotional, OUR PARENTS

 bobbyskeetz hangover of hell today but it was worth it 🤘🏼🤘🏼

evehewson what a stunning bride, congrats !!

lewevans the best just got better! thanks for including me in the big day

yourusername are you kidding me? THANK YOU for your amazing photos! (liked by ryanmcmahon_15)

inhalerfan1 you are joking me this is so beautiful

inhalerfan2 why am I crying over two strangers getting married?!?!

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername just had a dream weekend and married my bestfriend.

never imagined getting married so young but when you know you know, and you certainly do not let a man like ryan pass you by.

my husband <3

view all 100 comments

ryanmcmahon_15 the love of my life, my wife <3

inhalerfan1 literally the most beautiful wedding ever!

inhalerfan2 awhhhh congrats!

yourmam such a beautiful day celebrating you two!! my favourites xx

inhalerdublin our parents 💗💗💗

(liked by elijahhewson,bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and joshjenkinson_)

--finito--

lol dont even know where that marriage came from Im still undecided if i believe in the concept, but its cute lol!

hope you enjoyed <3

[flowerandblood]

Sweet kiss, sweet blood (7)

[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: kissing, sexual tension, fluff ]

[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Slow burn, sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]

I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Miss Whaterfield was furious with herself for ever opening that unfortunate letter. She couldn't sleep because of what she read in it. Because of what he wrote to her, because of the thought that he waited for her in the chapel every night.

This terrifying, bloodthirsty man.

She didn't understand why he wouldn't leave her alone, why he was so insistent that she become his wife. She had the impression that he was constantly mocking her, that he only wanted to humiliate her even more.

She decided not to change her mind. She did not reply to his letter. She began preparing for her departure by sending a letter to a nearby convent with the intention of being accepted.

After a few days, she announced to her father that she had received permission. Mr. Whaterfield took this information with equanimity and a strange, unlike him, satisfaction. He placed his hands on his daughter's shoulders, smiling reassuringly at her.

“I know I've always been strict with you. But today, right now, I'm proud of you. You have found your calling and I am glad that you will dedicate your life to God. It's a great honor for our family." He said and kissed her forehead.

She felt as if her heart would break at the same time from emotion and pain at his words. She desperately wanted to hear it, but not right now, not in this way.

She dreamed of Ser Aemond every day. In her dreams, he would bite her neck, then either kill her or kidnap her, locking her in his castle, making her his slave. On the one hand these dreams terrified her, on the other hand, for some reason when he took her with him or simply killed her, she felt relieved.

On the last evening that she was supposed to spend at her home, she couldn't sleep. She felt her heart pounding hard, she was terrified, but she didn't share her thoughts with anyone.

She didn't know what to do with the fear and grief that writhed like poison in her heart. She felt as if her body and inside were rotting, as if she was lying in a dark, cold dungeon, from which she would never come out.

Pastor Smith took the news of her future entry into the convent with reserve. He could not clearly show his displeasure since she was devoting herself to the service of God, but he made it clear to her father that he did not think she was up to the task. Mr. Whaterfield took great offense at his words, and their relations have cooled since then.

Miss Whaterfield thought that she had said goodbye to everyone, except Ser Aemond. The half-man, half-beast that kept her awake at night. She was furious that she couldn't bring herself to think of him as an unequivocally evil person.

He had done cruel and brutal things to her, and others that made her cheeks burn, but in fact she knew that before he tasted her blood, she was slowly falling in love with him. She would never admit it to him, but when he asked her father so directly for her hand, she felt an explosion of joy in her heart. There is nothing left of it now.

For some reason, she felt that if she left without saying a word she would leave something unfinished in her life forever. She thought that she wanted to say goodbye to him, forgive him like a true Christian and move on, giving her life into God's hands.

She got up, trembling slightly with emotion, putting on a white robe over her night gown which she tied with a ribbon around her waist. She lit a candle and, as she had promised herself, sneaked out of the house for the last time through the back door, heading across the meadow to Ser Criston's park.

She saw from a distance the chapel where she had prayed so often, and in it the light of a candle. She knew it was his sign for her, and she felt a strange painful pang in her heart.

She silently approached the slightly ajar door and paused, trying to calm her pounding heart in her chest. She was afraid, but at the same time she felt an indescribable excitement, a pleasant shiver at the thought of seeing him again. She swallowed hard, plucked up her courage, and walked inside with small, quiet steps.

He smelled her scent before he even saw her. He turned his profile towards her, shocked, then stood up and looked at her, his pale, long face expressing disbelief.

He swallowed hard, and they both looked at each other, standing some distance away, breathing uneasily. His eye showed so many emotions all at once that somehow it touched her. Her throat tightened at the sight of what she might normally mistake for longing.

After a moment, as if he had remembered who he was, he bowed to her, as befitted a man of his status. She nodded, feeling her hands tremble, her candle flame flickering uneasily. Neither of them knew what to say. Finally she heard his low, hesitant voice.

"You're leaving." He said more stating than asking. She pursed her lips at his words, feeling a painful, unpleasant shiver run through her. Her eyebrows quirked helplessly.

"Yes." She spoke softly, almost in a whisper. She saw his body tense, full of tension.

"When?" He asked low, almost casually, but his voice trembled at the end, betraying his desperation. She lowered her gaze, unable to look him in the eye.

"Tomorrow." She whispered. "I came to say goodbye."

There was a dead silence, broken only by the sounds of crickets coming from the park outside. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hands clench into fists, heard him swallow hard. She wondered if what she dreamed would happen. Will he kill her or kidnap her. Maybe that's why she came to him.

That he would free her.

"If I leave tomorrow, will you stay in Mantfield?" He asked indifferently, she had the impression that there was a note of irritation in his voice. She pursed her lips hearing the tone of his voice.

“No.” She answered truthfully. She looked up at him. She saw him clench his eyelid and mouth shut as he turned his face away, his body tense as a string. She could see that some incomprehensible, unspoken struggle was going on inside him.

"You're wasting your life. Do not do this." He finally said, approaching her confidently. She took a step back, but quickly hit the wall behind her. "If you want I'll help you escape. You will disappear and start a new life in the city, as a governess or shopkeeper, whatever you like. I'll leave you alone and you'll never see me again."

She stared at him in disbelief, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her whole body trembling. It wasn't what she expected, his words took her completely by surprise.

Many times in her life she thought about escaping, she even had a plan, but then she came to the conclusion that without someone's help she would not be able to cope at first. She wondered if God was trying to tell her something now after all.

Aemond saw her hesitation and moved even closer, their bodies almost touching. She looked away from him, her heart pounding, but his cold hand grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. Their faces were millimeters apart. She felt that familiar, wonderful, treacherous tightness between her thighs again, the wetness running down her skin.

"Tell me that you agree. Say you'll come with me to London tomorrow instead of going to the convent. In the letters you will write to your parents that you are in the convent, and we will inform the convent itself that you have resigned. Before they know it we'll be far away." He said excitedly at the thought that she was indeed hesitant. She swallowed loudly, frowning.

"How do I know there won't be more beasts like you, waiting for me in London to eat me alive and drain my blood? How could I trust someone like you?" She asked helplessly, breathing heavily. His face hardened at his words.

"I will not share you with anyone." He said coldly. "I'll be waiting for you tomorrow."

Aemond told her where her carriage would be passing and where she would change. She stared at him in disbelief as he told her point by point what they would do. She had the impression that he had planned this exactly.

He really wanted to kidnap her.

When he finished speaking, she stared at him in disbelief, breathing unevenly, feeling a huge confusion in her head.

She thought she had never felt free in her life. She never did what she wanted. She did not know independence and self-determination. Perhaps that's why, practically without thinking, she blurted out two words after a moment.

"All right."

***

The next morning she awoke with a sense of excitement and terror that she had never known before. She felt like she was going crazy. She kept telling herself that this man was definitely deceiving her again, that he would definitely hurt her and kill her, and that her body would never be found.

On the other hand, she thought that in her marriage to Pastor Smith or in the convent,she would also be dead, only alive.

When she said goodbye to her parents, she and her mother burst into tears. She thought she would never see them again, and when they finally found out that she had escaped they would break down.

She consoled herself with the thought that it would be easier for them to cover up something like that - they could finally say that she was just at the convent all the time and that's why she didn't come to visit. Her father embraced her and kissed her head.

"I am proud of you, child. You are starting a new, wonderful chapter in your life." He said proudly. She thought, wiping her tears that at least he wasn't wrong about that.

As she rode in the carriage, she looked around uneasily, knowing that soon they would reach the crossroads where they were to meet. It was a foggy, cloudy morning. She thought that the weather reflected exactly what she was feeling, the great uncertainty that filled her whole body.

She felt a strong shiver as she saw through the window in front of them a second carriage, with a man in a top hat standing in front of it. When he lifted his head she saw the patch over his eye and pursed her lips, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She slammed her hand against the carriage door.

"Stop!" She shouted to the coachman, and after a while they did indeed stop. She opened the door with a trembling hand and literally jumped out onto the road, staring in disbelief at the white-haired man standing in front of her.

His hair, as always, was tied back with a black ribbon, his clothes all dark, elegant and impeccable. They stared at each other in disbelief, standing a few meters apart.

Taken by some sudden, hot, wonderful feeling, she just ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms, and he wrapped his arms around her, twirling her once.

He took her cheeks in his hands, his cold leather gloves cooling her face pleasantly. He brushed a strand of her hair from her face with his thumb, staring at her with wide eye, his mouth parted in an expression of unspeakable joy, so incongruent with his seriousness and cool manner.

He bent over her, as he had when they stood in the rain. He pressed his forehead against hers, and she could feel them both trembling in excitement and terror, gasping for breath. She placed her hand over his, looking at him in a way she had never looked at any men before. She didn't pull away as he dug greedily into her lips, taking her breath away.

She parted her lips for him, sighing sweetly, letting him caress her. The wet, shameless click of their saliva she heard every time their fleshy, wet lips pressed together, made her shiver again. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation, letting him do what he wanted with her.

It seemed like forever before he pulled away from her, staring at her with misty eye, his mouth full and swollen with desire. He stroked her cheek and walked towards the driver of her carriage, tossing a bag of coins that jingled loudly in his direction. The coachman caught it, looking at him in surprise.

"For your trouble. I want you to forget that you saw this. You got Miss Whaterfield where she needed to be. Do we understand each other?" Aemond asked coolly and matter-of-factly, and he nodded.

Her baggage was transferred to the other carriage, and the two of them got inside. Aemond closed the door behind them, tapped the window a few times, and they set off along the stone road. They stared at each other with their mouths parted, breathing unevenly.

Unable to take it, she moved to the other side and sat next to him, snuggling into his shoulder, as if she needed physical confirmation that this was really happening. Aemond immediately wrapped his arm around her, hugging her to him, pulling his top hat off his head.

They made themselves comfortable in the seat, her head resting on his shoulder, his cheek against her hair. His hand stroked her steadily, his lips kissing the top of her head tenderly once in a while, making her grip on his shoulder tighter.

Even though she had done something so dangerous, crazy, and damnable, for the first time in her life she felt an overpowering peace fill her body.

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13

Others: @talesofoldandnew