#Ill try to answer as many requests these weeks

[leixo-demo]

I like to believe that when ikkan stands up his joints pop and he does that old man grunt when getting up

Do ink(octo)lings have joints? I don't know, probably.

not exactly old but with bad habits AND this is your daily reminder to stretch!

Yeah I think they have joints, at least they don't have exactly bones as us but they surely have a structure that keeps them standing when they are in human form

Thanks a lot for the new requests and such, I read them all and I try to answer them all as I end up work, thanks a bunch <33

[eccentricwritingbaby]

meet-cute

part one part two! part three

lando norris x fem!reader

summary - y/n is giving lando a run for his money in playing hard to get, and lando knows he's in love so so soon. 

masterlist

author's note! should i make another part or possibly make this into a series? lmk what ya think!

-

you woke up to a distant ringing running throughout the room. slowly rubbing your eyes and giving a bit of a stretch, you roll over in an attempt to find your phone. once found, you grimace at the time yet your smirk grows when seeing the contact read ‘mr mclaren’. 

“yes?” you answer the phone while letting out a cough to remove the sleep from your throat.

“did you just wake, love?” lando replies. you can practically see his teasing smile through the phone as he questions you. you rearrange your body so that you’re leaning against the headboard of the bed while biting into your answer, “mclaren, it’s currently 8am on a sunday, no person alive should be awake right now,”

you hear lando’s contagious chuckle from the other line along with a bit of shuffling around on his end, “i wanted to know if you were busy tonight,” he gently asks. you could tell he was a bit nervous from the small quiver in his voice. it had been around two weeks since your first meeting at the coffee shop, since then there were texts and calls constantly, but never an in person meeting since. you didn’t want to just be used by lando, expecting him to be a prick due to his celebrity status. there were certain insecurities that would become undone with seeing him in person that you were yearning to keep at bay for the time being. lando, on the other hand, only grew more attached to you. ever since he even saw you in the coffee shop he was beyond forward which he had never done before. sure there were girls in clubs that he could easily chat up, but he would never be so bold. and so sober. he knew from that moment - you were something special. something he needed. he enjoyed that you didn’t care about his celebrity status and were making him work, it gave him the reassurance that you liked him, not his wallet size. 

“i have dinner tonight for a friend's birthday,” you sigh, “maybe a quick lunch before?” you add on in haste for lando’s peace of mind. you honestly were not trying to avoid him, but his schedule was hectic with travel and you had many friends with whom you’ve made previous plans. 

“i’ve got plans during lunchtime,” lando says, you could practically hear the irritation in his voice, therefore leading to your next line, “i’m really not trying to avoid you, lando. I’ve just got a loaded schedule,” your words are gently said, attempting to ease his brain. 

“I know, love. I just really want to see you,” 

and then your next words came out of your mouth so quick you couldn’t even think, “come over,”

“what? i-i mean, are you sure?” his excitement was not hidden, yet the hesitation was purely based on his knowledge that you had just woken up, and only ever been with each other in person once. and that was your first time meeting. and nothing overly romantic happened. and now he’s invited straight to your place. 

“well, shit, if you don’t want to come thats fine ill just head back to sleep-”

“no no no no,” he interrupts sporadically, “i’ll be there soon, send me your address please,”

“hmm, i don’t know. you’re lack of excitement really turned me off from the whole idea i think i’ll keep my address to myself,”  you giggle a bit into your teasing. lando wants to be annoyed - he truly does. and if this was any other girl he just may have been. he most likely would have given up this chase the minute any other girl turned his request down in the first place. yet - there was something about you. you were different. and you were so worth it. 

lando clears his throat and begins to speak in a dramatic tone while giving your teasing right back, “that’s alright, y/n. i will drive all day and night if i have to, knock on every door. trust, my love, i shall find you,” your loud laughter rings through the phone and he swears his heart skips a beat. 

“ah mr. norris, your lovely sense of humor and perseverance have allowed you access to my apartment,” you smile once more and rattle off your address. once the call has ended, you jump out of bed and begin to get ready as lando said the ride would only be about 10 minutes. face washed, teeth brushed, perfume and lotion on, quick change of clothes from your ratty old pajamas to cuter loungewear, hair tied up to look as though you didn’t even try - all in record time. just as you finished the last spritz of your perfume, the knock on your door echoed through your home. 

sauntering over towards the door and swinging it open, you’re met with the face you hadn’t realized you miss so dearly. “why hello sleepyhead,” he chuckles. you usher him into your home while replying, “y’know you’re the one being irrational here? its currently 830 in the morning, it is crazy to be up right now. on a sunday,” he laughs once more while grabbing your wrists and lightly tossing them around his waist. his own arms then wrap around your shoulders as he plants a kiss to the top of your head. “i’m not being irrational, darling. but if you want to head back to sleep i would not be opposed to a nap,” you look up at him from where your face was resting against his chest, “please,” lando plants a kiss to your nose, “lead the way,” 

lando wakes up around an hour later, tucked into your bed with your head adorably pushed into his neck. he soaks in your appearance, one leg thrown over his hip, head cuddled into him, arm thrown over his chest and he relishes in it. the two of you hadn’t even kissed, hadn’t gone on a proper date, for the past two weeks only had fleeting phone calls and yet - this was normal. this was home. you were home. he thought as he laid with you curled into his side, he thought about a future, about a new beginning, about how adorable you would look in a certain papaya color, and god how his mother would just love you. lando couldn’t help the thoughts. he didn’t even know if you had siblings or anything remotely deep about you however he knew for sure three things. one - he was and forever will be completely, head over heels, insanely in love with you. two - his future has you and you only in it. and three - you both were so unconventional in your ways and in your soon to be love story that he knew his life would never be boring as long as you were in it.

[taintedtort]

hi there, i love your writing and i’d like to make a request!!

i’d love to see a chronically ill reader who tries to hide their illness from their partner (xiao, wanderer) because the near constant comments about how wEaK aNd pAtHeTiC mOrTaLs aRe has made them insecure and afraid that their partner would no longer want to be with them if they knew how weak they truly were.

bonus points if they find out about the illness because the reader pushed themselves too far and could no longer hide the symptoms in front of them :) feed me the hurt/comfort :)

prompt ✧ sick reader

characters ✧ xiao, wanderer

warnings ✧ gn!reader, mentions of illness, hurt/comfort

a/n ✧ FINALLY writing this, sorry it took a minute… and thank you for the request!! (i literally hit the limit for words in one text box so these are cut up into sections)

XIAO

✧ when he found out you were ill and that you weren’t able to be permanently cured, he felt like crying. which is big for xiao, he doesn’t feel many emotions, especially sadness, and he doesn’t know how to cope. so he did what he thought was best.

you were trying to help him in his demon hunts, something he told you over and over was a bad idea, but he let you come anyway after you insisted so many times. he couldn’t really say no to you about most things, so he just decided to be extra careful and on guard. he steered clear of spots he knew were way too dangerous and let you follow him around to watch.

eventually, you told him you felt lightheaded right before passing out. he, of course, caught you, but at that exact moment he felt his world fall apart. automatically assumed you were feeling side affects from his debt, which caused him to blame himself harshly. swore that when he knew you were alright, he’d leave so he didn’t harm you anymore.

when you woke in your bed at the inn, he was laying right beside you, waiting for you. it made you smile, the fact that he stayed with you, but it faded when you saw the look on his face. you asked him what was wrong but got no answer, he just placed a kiss to your forehead and whispered a quiet apology before he vanished. confused and still in a sleepy daze, you didn’t think much about it and assumed he was apologizing for having to leave for his duties.

a week passed and you didn’t see him, you grew achingly worried. you asked everyone around town if they’d seen him, but you only got apologies in return. you tracked him down for days, hurt and confused, and he knew that of course, he was watching you. he couldn’t be near you, but he had to know you were alright. you seemed upset at the absence of him, but xiao knew you’d be better off. he ignored the desperate calls of his name from your lips, breaking his promise that he’d always be there for you. it shattered him, and it shattered you.

after weeks of your voice calling out to him but getting no answer, you started to feel dejected. you didn’t want to face the fact that he may really be gone for good. you knew why too— he couldn’t be seen with such a weak mortal. his apology was out of pity for your poor state, not because he felt bad for leaving. with that conclusion, your heart was no more. you fell out into sobs, stomach wrenching sobs that left your head aching. with a final attempt, you choked out xiaos name and a plea followed close behind it.

you aren’t sure why he decided to show up that particular time, but he did. you saw his feet materialize from your spot on the ground and your head shot up. when he saw your face, your tears, he knew he’d caused you the most amount of pain possible. he tried to keep a straight face so you wouldn’t see how much this was hurting him, it was for your own good, but he couldn’t push you away when you leaped up from the ground and brought him into an embrace. you clutched onto him, your tears wetting his shirt as you kept repeating questions as to where he’d been and why he left. he thought he owed it to you to at least give an explanation, so he told you. he told you how he had hurt you with his debt and that he never wanted to harm you ever again, so he had to leave. he told you how much he loves you and how he couldn’t live with himself if he put you in pain. while he spoke, he realized that he’d done what he was trying to avoid doing in the first place. the pain of him leaving you was much greater than any pain you could get from his debt.

when he finished with tears in his eyes, you told him the truth. the truth about your illness and why you had passed out that day. you let him know of your fears, the fear that he thought you were too weak, that you were just as pathetic as the other mortals he always spoke of. he was already shaking his head as you were talking, trying to deny those words before they entered your mind. he knew it may have been too late, but he asked for your forgiveness anyway. you called him an idiot and kissed him, both of your cheeks still wet.

"i never meant for this to happen, please forgive me, i’m so sorry."

WANDERER

✧ when he found out you had kept such a big secret from him, he was broken. why wouldn’t you tell him you were sick? he was your partner and you loved him, so why would you keep this from him? he started to doubt if you actually felt the same feelings he felt for you. that was until he saw your face after you told him your little secret.

you two had been exploring a new patch of forest you found. he was on guard, as were you, thanks to the unfamiliar land. you both went a long way before turning back, but by that time you already started to feel dizzy. you grabbed onto his arm and muttered his name, right before seeing black. he caught you, somewhat ungracefully, but your head didn’t hit the ground. he was literally stunned, just stared at you with his mouth slightly agape. he assumed either you got too hot, there was something in the air over in this area, or you hadn’t eaten. he ruled out the second one, he wasn’t feeling anything, nor did he notice anything different about the air. chalked it up to it being your fault and carried you back to your campsite.

he monitored you while you slept, which wasn’t very long, you woke within an hour. when you opened your eyes and glanced around, you were met with a sour faced wanderer. he was scowling at you with his arms crossed, and you just smiled back. once you sat up, he started demanding answers to his questions. what did you eat today? have you drank any water? did you walk for too long? did you feel hot? you knew he was just worried, and you didn’t want to lie but also didn’t want to tell him the truth, so you just nervously laughed and tried to wave him off.

he obviously continued to pester you, refusing to let you wiggle out of this one. as your loving partner it was his job to make sure you took care of yourself, so he wasn’t letting this go. you had passed out, he needed to know why.

you, very reluctantly, told him about your sickness. you tried to keep it brief and make it sound less than it was, but he heard the words 'permanently ill' and his stomach dropped. you saw the look on his face and wished you could take it back, wished you would’ve just lied to him, wished you were strong, wished he’d see you the same.

he was already marking you as his fourth betrayal, you could tell. the pain in his eyes was clear, the sheer hurt clearly visible to you. it was you that had caused that look, and if he chose to leave you, you’d spend eternity with that image burned onto your eyelids. you already felt the stinging in your nose and the familiar tears forming at that thought. the thought of having to live without him, the thought of him resenting you.

when he noticed your lips trembling, his brows drew together. why were you crying? were you embarrassed? he truly didn’t understand human emotions sometimes. and because he didn’t understand, he asked you, that was the only way he knew how to get answers. when he saw your face carry confusion, he became truly lost. he asked why you were crying, what was so confusing about that? why do you have that look on your face? he knew he liked your smile best, but he wasn’t aware of how much he hated it when you were upset. he’d do anything to get that expression of your face.

so he did what he thought would help… he hugged you. he was aware that humans craved physical contact, especially when sad, and since he wasn’t very sure what helped you, he went with a hug. he was unaware of how to fix this because you rarely got sad around him. he brought you pure happiness with just his presence, so you’d never had the chance to cry with him around.

he got a bit nervous during his approach. usually when he’s going to initiate physical affection, you meet him halfway, but you stayed still while he got closer. it wasn’t until his arms were halfway around you that you allowed yourself to hug him back. your grip was strong, and you wouldn’t let him go ever again if he let you.

when he heard your pleading whispers of him not to leave you, he reeled back completely stunned. him? leave you? he wasn’t capable of doing such a thing. and he told you that. he told you how much he loves you, how he can’t live without you, and how you’re the light of his being, his reason for living.

"i’d never leave you, i wouldn’t be able to bring myself to even think of it."

[anjelicawrites]

You Can Never Leave

Paring: Dark!Aemond Targaryen x older!reader

Synopsis: you are in a secret, albeit happy, relationship with Aemond, until you are not anymore.

Warnings: DDDNE, consensual relationship that becomes abusive, dubious consent from reader, abusive behavior from Aemond, p in v sex, Iron Throne sex, oral (male receiving), titty sucking, ass and cunt spanking, strangling, finger fucking, the Iron Throne used as a death threat.

A/N: reader is AFAB, they/them pronouns used if needed.

Please, please, please, read the warnings before starting this one. This is not one of my happy filthy fics, read the warnings please!!!

NSFW and 18+ only please

You observe Aemond stalking towards the Iron Throne from the shadows; he looks intense, the shadows in the room and the storm raging outside play on his features, painting the mask of someone you don’t recognize anymore.

You had befriended the young prince as per his mother's request. You were older and not a widow, yet, a friendship between you two not scandalous, Alicent had thought.

The queen had confided in you, one of her dearest and more trusted ladies in waiting, while walking in the gardens, about her concerns with Aemond only focusing on his studies and sword training.

“He reminds me of my husband, with due respect Your Grace.” You told her, stopping under the shadows of a group of trees. “I have to trick him into doing something else but the work he does for the Crown, sometimes.” You finished with a soft smile.

“Would you do the same for my son?” 

Her beautiful brown eyes held all her concerns and you felt for her, the love you had for her, the knowledge of how alone she truly was, had drawn you to trying to help her. You cared about her too much not to.

“I will try, Your Grace.” You answered and her smile had warmed your heart and strengthen your resolve. 

You had managed to lure him away from the library and the training yard many times, talking with him about philosophy and history while walking in the gardens, the young man always respectful and slowly losing his usual stiffness with each talk.

“I know what are you doing.” He had told you once, the shadows of the setting sun hiding his expression.

“Would you like me to stop?”

Your question was earnest: as much as you wanted to quell Alicent’s concerns, if Aemond didn’t appreciate your company, you would have stopped bothering him immediately.

“No, I wouldn’t like that.”

He was wearing an expression you couldn’t truly read, too many shadows had fallen, but it didn’t scare you, knowing full well that under the mask, Aemond always burned with emotions he would not share.

Yet your walks were stopped by your husband’s untimely illness and then death.

You had spent weeks by his side, as he battled the pneumonia that killed him and then sealed yourself in your rooms, the pain of his loss tearing a hole in your chest that seemed capable of absorbing every ounce of light and happiness in your life, Alicent the only person who had managed to enter your rooms to console you, something she couldn’t do openly during the funeral ceremony.

In the haze of pain and confusion you had walked through, as you organized you late husband’s funeral, Aemond had offered you his condolences and retired into the fold of people talking around you, your brain not truly registering his words, nor his tone.

It had been days later, after the funeral, that he knocked on your door, late at night, when the whole palace slept, his hand still raised when you had opened the door.

“I hope I am not disturbing you.” He said, a tinge of insecurity in his deep voice.

You had fallen against his chest, crying, ugly, fat tears and sobs you couldn’t control. You pain had been a dry desert you had to cross through. Even with Alicent you couldn’t express yourself in such a violent way, but Aemond, your friend who reminded you so much of your late husband at his age, the gates had just opened, leaving you defenseless and him to deal with your violent output of emotions.

You didn’t know how he had managed to walk you towards the bed, your body entwined with his, but he did and he had awkwardly caressed your back, until you had calmed down enough to talk.

“I’m so sorry.” You managed to say, your eyes not meeting his. “I don’t know what happened.”

Out of nowhere he had given you a handkerchief, his initials sewn into the delicate silk.

“Don’t be.”

His tone was firm, his hand under your chin so that he could look into your eyes, knowing full well that you two were too close to one another for this to be proper.

“Aemond…” 

You had never used his given name, only his title and the pupil of his eye enlarged with the hunger he had forced himself to stifle for so long.

You will never know who had started the kiss, only that his lips were on yours, hungry and demanding, your hands in his soft hair, your breasts squashed against his solid chest, his strong arms crushing you against his body.

You wailed when his arms trapped you too tightly against his body, his tongue clumsily inside your mouth, seeking yours as his fingers tried to open the latchings of your dress, desperate and uncaring of the delicate latches he was destroying.

“Aemond… Aemond!” You tried to say, his lips on your neck, graceless kisses and bites left on the delicate skin there, your arms fruitlessly trying to push him away. “Please, Aemond!”

The high pitched panic in your voice seemed to kick him out of his frenzy, his only eye focusing on your face, the array of emotions he saw there.

“I’m sorry.” he blurted out, yet his hands were still on your trembling body, fingers contracting on the heavy material of your dress, his hunger for you clear on his features.

“Aemond.” Your voice was still uneven, but you tried to be gentle. “Have you ever done this before? Do you know what you’re doing?”

He blushed and turned his head, his hair hiding his expression.

“It’s complicated.” He finally said, under his breath.

He resisted a little when you tried to turn his head, it’s only after you’ve pleaded with him, that he looked at you, ashamed.

“You don’t have to be so overwhelming. I’m not going anywhere.” You gently cupped his scarred cheek. “You need to be gentler.”

For a second his mask slipped and you could see how surprised he was, but he managed to control himself again.

One of his hands covered yours on his cheek, so big and warm, his fingers delicately curled around your palm and you knew this was the moment when either of you were to say that the kiss was grossly inappropriate and that he should go back to his quarters. You could feel the words forming in your head and, if you had pronounced them, you wouldn’t find yourself in the predicament you are now. But you stayed silent, didn’t you? And, if he had similar thoughts to yours, he didn’t share them, preferring to pull your face closer to his.

“May I?” He asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

“Yes, my prince.”

“Use my name. Say it like before!” He sounded more in control of himself, his eye focused on your lips.

“Aemond.”

You barely managed to finish the last syllable, that his mouth was on yours, clumsy but not as hurried as before and you knew you should have pushed him away, instead your hands found refuge in his hair, your lips parted to make way for your tongue to tease his, a moan escaping your bound lips when you tongue slid against the rood of his mouth.

You straddled his hips, yours already grinding against his trapped cock, his fingers again at the fasting of your dress, trying to open the knots your handmaid fastened this morning.

“Do you want me to take the lead, Aemond?” You asked when your lips parted. “To show you?”

He audibly took a breath in, his pupil enlarged into a bottomless pit of need. 

“Yes.” Was a deep rasp that reminded you of the growl of Vhagar.

You didn’t want to, but you had to dismount him to turn around and guide him as he unlaced your dress with hasty fingers, his hands turning you to face him as he helped you out of the heavy brocade and silk, his eye raked down you body, still covered by the layers of slips, his hands fastened around your breasts with a moan at the weight and feel.

“Let me help you as well, Aemond” 

Your voice sounded breathy and needy in your ears, your fingers trembled as you opened his tunic and helped him out of the layers he wore underneath. His skin glowed, illuminated by the candles, small scars and burns littered his torso, his nipples darker and you had to fight the urge to suck on them. 

Slow, you needed to go slow.

He removed all the clothes still covering your body, a long, appreciative hmm left his lips when your beauty was barred to him: the softness of your curves and tummy, the patch of hair between your legs and your breasts so perfect and enticing.

He hurried with his breeches and underclothes, his cock hard and red already, just by seeing your naked body, one of your hands cupping it, feeling its weight and warmth.

“Lie on the bed.” You told him and his cock seemed to swell at your words.

He looked absolutely breathtaking with his long legs splayed open, his erect cock against the tight muscles of his abdomen. You were hungry for him, your tongue unconsciously licking your lips as you crawled between his legs.

“You need to tell me if you want me to stop. Promise me that you will, Aemond.”

It should have been ludicrous that you were telling this to the rider of the largest dragon in the world, but you were the one with the experience, it was your duty to keep him safe.

He stared at you for the longest time, something in his eyes that you couldn’t truly read, something akin to devotion.

“I will.” 

Gods be good! The low rumble of his voice, his hips jutting up without his control: you needed him in your mouth, in your cunt. You needed to know how he sounded like in the throes of passion, but you controlled your hunger, when your lips started kissing his cock, when he started to raggedly fuck your willing mouth, when he came all over your face with a cry of pleasure.

You hugged him, then, letting his head slot under yours, until his breath slowed down, and he had turned you on your back, his cock hard and ready for you again.

A grasp escaped his mouth when his fingers met the wetness coating your hungry cunt

“Is this for me?” He sounded so surprised you heart broke.

“Yes Aemond. It means that I need you. Please.” Your voice so small, so needy in your ears, you were ashamed of yourself.

He had covered your body with his, then. His cock nestled between your lips and you both moaned when he started rutting against you, the movements irregular and desperate, the pleasure climbing up his spine like fire.

“Aemond, please!” 

You were desperate, your cunt clenched around nothing and it hurt, the warmth of desire clawing at your insides the same way your nails were cutting his long back: if he didn’t breach you, you knew you’d go insane.

He begged the Gods when his cock head was enveloped by your cunt, the warmth and tightness almost painful as he slowly entered you, his hands grabbing the bed sheets in the desperate attempt to control himself.

Your legs curling around his hips when he bottomed out were his saving grace, forcing him to stop moving and focus on himself, and you.

You looked ravished and desperate, your teeth biting your lower lip to the point of pain, your cunt stretched almost to its limit to accommodate Aemond’s thick cock, your nails scratching down his back in desperation, your mind torn between needing him to keep still and rut inside of you until both of your were out of breath.

His movements were jerky, no finesse as he slammed inside of you, but that didn’t truly mattered, when you felt your body come alive under his, when his cock head slammed repeatedly against that patch inside of yourself that made you beg and cry, when broken words of praise spilled from his delirious lips. When the pressure inside of you was too much to bear and you clamped around him, coming with him, long screams of pleasure reverberating against the thick walls of your room.

Aemond fell against you, your arms welcomed him, your legs loose around his hips, as his bigger body trembled in your embrace and your lips kissed the crown of his head.

You knew that you were supposed to send him away, to tell him to dress and go back to his chambers; you couldn’t. As big as he was, he felt so small in your embrace, his mouth frantically leaving kisses on the patches of skin he managed to reach. It broke your heart to even think about kicking him out of your bed, not when his hands felt so desperate on your skin: you couldn’t bear to hurt him.

And so it started, with your too soft heart and his newfound hunger. 

That very night he sheathed himself inside of you again and again, until you were too sore and he covered you in kisses to show you how sorry he was. 

And he kept coming back.

Now, shrouded as you are by the shadows of the Throne Room, you wonder where that Aemond went. The one who knocked on your door night after night, who would let you ride him, his mouth on your breasts, sucking and kissing, who would steal kisses during your walks in the gardens until you squealed in his arms. Who would kiss every mark he left on your body, when his passion overridden his desire to keep you safe. Who would spend hours just learning to play your body like a fine tuned instrument, reveling in every moan, every scream of pleasure he managed to extract from you. Who would talk to you, his head on your bosom, who would pour out his frustration towards his brother and his antics or be jealous of the Lords showing their interest in you, when your mourning stopped, even though he fully knew he would never be able to marry you.

Can you pinpoint the moment your sweet lover changed?

Your grandmother, a pious yet extremely superstitious woman, used to tell you to steer away from abandoned places, because something will occupy and corrupt what people leave vacant. You started to wonder if that could happen to a man’s heart: when the cracks form, could that space become the home for something to fester and spread, like an infection?

Perhaps it was the night he killed Lucerys Velaryon, when he came to your room still wet from the storm raging outside, his skin cold and clammy, his hair soaked, the same way his clothes were, after he had told his family what he had done? 

He looked haunted, wraith like with his hair disheveled down his back, so unsteady on his feet that he had almost fallen on you. Maybe the seeds took root when you told him to go to his room and call his servants to prepare him a bath, and that you would be there with him as soon as possible; perhaps, if you had called upon your people to draw a bath in your chambers, he wouldn’t have changed.

It hadn’t taken you more than half an hour to reach him and to find him standing in from of the steaming bath, still clothed and drenched; his hand had closed like a manacle around your wrist when you started to help him undress himself.

“There’s no man more accursed than the kinslayer.” He told you, a fever in his eye unknown to you. “You shouldn’t want to tarnish yourself.”

“Aemond.” You said weakly. “Let me help you, please.”

He stared down at you, eyebrow raised, with a coldness foreign to you in his eye. For a second his hold tightened, to the point that you cold barely breath through the pain, to then free your wrist with a jerk.

“As you wish” Came from his lips, distant like never before.

You could barely move your hand, still numb from his hold, to help him out of his clothes, his skin as cold as ice under your tentative touch.

He let you wash his body without saying a word, as if you were his servant, not his lover, you thinking that the enormity of what had happened weighted too much on his mind for him to express himself.

You dried him with the warm bath towel his servants had left near the fire. When you moved to grab his night clothes, he stopped you again, a strong hand around your still hurting wrist and, without a word, he dragged you towards his bed.

“Aemond, please. You need to sleep.” You pleaded, stumbling on your own feet to keep up with his gait.

“Later.”

Again, he regarded you with coldness in his eye, as if he didn’t know who you were and just threw you face first on the bed, his body trapping yours before you could ever try to turn on your back, one hand on your nape, the other pulling your nightgown up towards your hips, roughly.

“Aemond, stop!” You tried to say, the mattress suffocating your pleas.

“I need you, now.” A cruel slap landed on your ass. “Or the touch of the kinslayer disgusts you now?”

“Never, Aemond!” You whimpered when his had grabbed your hair to lift your head up. “You’re hurting me!”

A fast round of slaps rained on your buttocks and you screamed.

“Don’t pretend this is the first time I enjoy you like this.” The hand that had been punishing you traveled fast to your cunt, to find the shame of your arousal. “It seems to me you’re liking what I’m doing.”

You yelped and cried when he spanked your wet cunt until you were a squirming mess on his bed.

“Tell me, lover, should I stop?” He said, cold as ice, his hand painfully gripping your abused cunt.

“No Aemond, please.” You answered, afraid of what he would do, if you were to tell him to let you go.

“See, it wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Another slap landed on your arse, before he breached you, hard and fast, his cock hurting you even though you were soaked.

You had to grab his bed sheets, your teeth biting the soft cotton as he fucked you violently, his hands on your hips to move you to his leisure, grinding against your abused cunt until you cried out in pain.

“You can’t help but liking it, isn’t it, lover? You crave it, even from a kinslayer.”

Your cunt clenched around his cock, your body too attuned to his to register the anger in his voice when he started fingering your pearl with fast movements that hurled you towards your orgasm, him following you with a grunt of pleasure.

You curled into yourself when he let you go, tears threatening to fall as you realized that this was the first time he had taken you in his chambers: it shouldn’t have happened this way.

You jumped out of your skin when his hand touched your back, unsure of what he would do to you. 

When he gently turned you to face him, you thought whatever malady had taken hold of him, had passed, his touch so gentle as he rubbed the salve he used after sword training on your skin. 

“This will never happen again.” Was the closest thing to a sorry you could get from him. 

You wanted to believe him when he hugged you tight and kept you in his warm embrace until sunrise. 

But it was all lies, you had realized, when the bad days became more frequent, when he had ruthlessly fucked inside of you, one hand curled around your neck, until you had fainted, after Jahaerys’s death. Perhaps it was the guilt he felt that opened the cracks in his heart? Or had been seeing poor Helaena falling into madness? Or, maybe, it was the war?

Did it really matter, when he stopped promising he wouldn’t raise a hand against you? When he seemed to revel in the marks he left on your abused body, his fingers pushing against the welts to hear you wail in pain, or fuck your cunt even after you begged him not to, that you were too sore.

Did it truly matter, when he had grabbed you neck, one night, his hold barely letting air pass through your windpipe and had coldly asked you about that stupid Lord that was clumsily courting you.

“Nothing happened, I swear!” You gasped, tears forming on your eyes. “I told him off, Aemond please!”

He regarded you with a cruel stare, his hand a fraction tighter, your fingers desperately scratching at his wrist.

“You are mine, lover. You will never leave my side, but in death. Say it!” He forced your body closer to his, his eye zeroed on your facial expression.

“Where would I go, Aemond?” Tears streamed down your cheeks, you were so scared. “I am yours, until death.”

For a second he closed his hand with such a force around your neck, that you thought he was going to strangle you, but he let go and you fell back on the bed, coughing desperately.

“Yes, who would have you, now that you are stained?” He said, disdain in his voice.

You didn’t have the strength to push him off yourself when he covered your body with his, his engorged cock at your abused hole, only to desperately ask yourself why he now hated you so much and still couldn’t let go of you.

He would go to battle, those days the only ones when your poor body could find some respite from his constant abuse as your mind tortured itself trying to find ways to be in his good graces again: if you could better yourself for him, then he wouldn’t hate you so, he would go back to be your gentle lover who would find refuge in your arms from the life in Court.

But that never happened.

He would call for you, not an ounce of tenderness in his touch anymore, no good days to tide you over during the bad ones, only his roughness on your body and the welts he left there, as you scrambled to make yourself as small and obedient as possible to avoid his wrath.

Maybe, you had thought one day, when this war will be over, he’ll go back to the Aemond you knew and loved.

As you observe him from the shadows, you realize that the Aemond who had knocked on your door, oh so many moons ago, is dead. The young man who would confide his frustration and love for his older brother, their relationship so complicated to navigate, will never come back: he is like those men in the stories your grandmother told you, who would come back from death, but wrong, a shell worn by something else, something cruel and malicious.

“Come here.” He orders and you jump in the pocket of darkness shadowing you. “Do you really thing I wouldn’t know where you are?”

His eye scans the shadows like a predator’s, his hand raised to call to you.

“Don’t make me come and collect you, lover.”

You don’t want to go, you want to run away from the monster who has taken the place of the man you loved, but there’s nowhere for you to go: like those who wouldn’t steer away from abandoned places, and end up being imprisoned there, you are bound to Aemond, chained to him, until death.

“Aemond.” Your voice trembles as you take cautious steps towards him.

“What were you doing? Spying on me?” His hand closes like a manacle around your wrist the moment you are close to him.

“No Aemond.” You hate the panic in your voice, the fear lacing your words. “I couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

His cold eye rakes down your body, his hand around your wrist a fraction looser and you fool yourself into thinking you might have made it, this time.

He pulls you towards himself with such a force you fear your arm might get out of its socket, his free hand grabs your hair and pulls your face against him, until your noses are almost touching.

“You talking to that Septa has nothing to do with this, right lover?” You cry out in pain when he pulls on your hair and starts dragging you towards the Iron Throne. “You’re not thinking about giving yourself to the Faith to escape me, do you?”

Uselessly your hands go to his fingers to pry them open, your feet scrambling on the floor to keep up with fast gait.

“No Aemond! I swear!” You scream.

“I would have you, anyway.” You are both facing the Iron Throne now, Aemond’s rage lacing every word he spits in your face. “Septa or not you belong to me!”

“Aemond I would never leave you!” You scream, uselessly, he’s not truly listening.

“I’d kill you before I’ll allow you to abandon me!”

A terrorized sound leaves your lips when he bends you against the Throne, one of the swords mere inches away from your unprotected neck.

His free hand grabs the layers of your skirt to lift them up, his fingers destroying your delicate underclothes in the rush to get to your cunt.

“Why are you making me do this?” He shakes your head with every word, the blade closer and closer. “Why don’t you learn?”

You’re desperately trying to push yourself away from the Iron Throne, one hand against the cold metal, the other fruitlessly scratching Aemond’s fingers in your hair: you don’t want to die like this.

“I just want to make you happy!” You manage to scream, to which he barks an unhappy, cruel laugh.

“You can’t, lover.”

The hand that’s destroyed your small clothes, finds your cunt, two fingers breach you roughly and start pumping in and out.

“This is the only thing you can be”.

The fingers curl and find that rough patch of yourself that makes you howl in pleasure. Amidst his violence and abuse, he still knows how to play your body to fit his desires and make you feel ashamed of yours.

You try to brace yourself for his cock, but you’re not wet enough, the fit tight and painful, not that he cares.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like this.” He growls in your ear. “I can feel that you’re wet: doesn’t it mean that you need me, lover?”

You sob when he uses your words against you.

“Doesn’t it?” He pushes you against the blades again, closer than ever before.

“Yes, Aemond.” You cry out in fear, your hands desperate to find a safe purchase against the Iron Throne, before he starts pounding.

He’s merciless in his taking of you, his thick cock brutal against your abused walls, your nerves alive with the pain he’s inflicting you, and the pleasure when he angles himself to hit against the rough patch inside of you, reveling in the way you whine and mewl, in the way your wetness squelches with each and every push in he subjects you to.

“You’re so fucking wet, stop pretending you don’t need this!”

You’re just boneless in his hold, your body a mere hole for him to fuck until his balls are empty, his savagery, momentarily, satiated by your degradation.

Tears stream down your face, the pain, the abuse ravage your mind as your body deceives you once again, opening up to his violence, your juices easing his brutal thrusts, your cunt curling around his cock when his fingers find your pearl, his touch rough and fast, and you come, your body bearing his last, brutal pushes, before he comes with a bestial grunt.

His last night with you is a nightmare, your body broken and hurt under his, his cold voice letting you know he’s not taking you with him to Harrenhall, because he doesn’t have the time to deal with the problems it might cause.

“When this was is over and I’ll still be Prince Regent.” He whispers into your ear, before leaving. “I will have you as my spouse, so that no one will ever separate us.”

Your soul trembles at the thought that once had been so full of happiness.

When he leaves for Harrenhall, a part of you hopes he’s never going to come back, hopes he finds his demise in battle.

If either of you needs to die to be free, a part of you hopes it’s him. Aemond taglist: @fan-goddess

[lizzieislife94x]

Professor Maximoff (w.m)

Wanda G!PxFem Reader

legal age gap y/n is 22 and lizzie is lets say 28

Just a little update to keep the book updated requests are open always Also over 10k reads holy shit I didn't think that many would see this 😳 but thank you (the fact this was the 10k read mark originally and then the whole book got removed at 700k reads still hurts my heart lmfao)

 Y/ns POV: 

"Hey can I have an iced coffee please" I say to the woman serving me "that will be $4 please and ill get your coffee right away" I smile and hand over the money as I wait for my drink after a minute she hands me my drink I smile and say thank you as I head out the store I pull my phone out to check the time and notice I'm later for my first class fuck I have professor Maximoff this morning I've already been later twice this week she's gonna kill me, she is intimidating but I can't help but drool over her every day in class she's fucking perfect and always wears these suits that do things to me I'm snapped out of my thoughts by my phone dinging I quickly look at the screen and see a text from my best friend Natasha. 

Nat<3: Dude you better get here ASAP maximoff is looking at your empty seat with an annoyed look, youre gonna be in so much shit get here like now! 

Fuck fuck fuck 

Me: Shit I had to get coffee I'm on campus ill be there in 5 minutes try and stall for me make up an excuse or something on my way. 

I take a few sips of my coffee and throw it in the trash as I run through the halls like a madman towards professor maximoffs class after a 2 minutes of sprinting I pull the door open and bend over trying to get my breath back "I'm...so..sorry I'm late professor " I say panting as I walk towards my desk I hate being in the front she's gonna stare me down "miss l/n this is your 3rd time late this week I'm not impressed you have detention" she says in a cold tone "I'm I'm really sorry my alarm didn't go off" I lie with a whisper looking down at my desk "no excuses y/n you're a grown girl youre big enough to make sure you arrive on time, open your book to page 60 and read ill deal with you later" she hisses as I pull my book out and start reading I can't help but feel sad for some reason as if I've let her down

looks like I'll actually be reading today I can't bare to look at her I don't wanna see the disappointment in her eyes, I continue to read until professor maximoff hands some tests out "pop quiz I hope you guys took in what we learned last week" fuck of course I didn't I was drooling over her I'm in so much shit "Nat you have to help me I can't remember what we where studying last week" I whisper leaning over to Nat "you need to stop having little fantasies about maximoff and start paying attention in class y/n but I'll try my best to help" she whisper shouts at me great Nat is pissed at me maximoff is pissed at me I sigh and grab my pen as I begin to read over the test paper "A, C, C, B, A, A" Nat whisper as I quickly circle the answers half way there I can do this "miss romanoff can you go to room 336 and get the books for next week please" I hear professor maximoff say out loud as I look up at her then at Nat with a pleading look "of course professor" Nat says as she stands up to leave, fuck fuck fuck I'm screwed I just have to guess the last 6 after 15 minutes I put my pen down and sigh as I lean my elbows on the desk and over my face with my hands "miss l/n get your work done no time for breaks" I move my hands slightly and look at her "I'm done professor" I say with an icy tone full of attitude "less of the attitude miss l/n and bring your test over anymore of that and ill give you detention all next week do you understand me" she states blatantly

I walk over to her desk and hand her the test "I understand professor maximoff I'm sorry" I say looking down "go and sit at your desk quietly don't disturb the rest of the class" I nod and walk back to my desk and sit for a bit as the bell rings I go to get up to leave "y/n sit you have detention for the next 2 hours" wait how did she know she's not even looking up she's marking the tests "yeah of course sorry" I say as I sit back down the classroom soon empty "grab a chair and come sit beside me you can help sort this paperwork" I just stand and grab my chair walking to her desk as I sit she looks at me for a minute studying me "what's going on with you why are you late so often, why are you giving attitude in class" she says as she places her hand on mine making me freeze "I uh I um I've not been sleeping great I'm sorry and I snapped because you where being rude and im tired I'm sorry" I say looking down she grips my chin pulling my face up to look at her "you need to start behaving y/n" she says with a tone I haven't heard, I feel my heart pound as a little moan escapes at the action she just did "I fuck..I'll um try professor"

she bites her lip as her thumb gently rubs my chin slowly moving up to pull my bottom lip slightly "you can't be making those cute little sounds y/n or you'll make it harder to keep my cool around you, you have no idea how much I wanna fuck that attitude out of you" I let out another moan feeling the pool form in my panties I don't know what came over me before I know it I'm climbing into her lap straddling her "maybe that's what I need someone to fuck the attitude out of me" I whisper into her ear making her groan I slightly grind into her to get comfortable but feel something hard forming, uh fuck she has a dick the thought alone makes me drip in an instant I'm bent over her desk with my skirt up around my waist "fuck y/n you drive me crazy it's been so hard to keep my cool I can't help but watch you walk around in these little skirts day In day out" she whispers into my ear as my panties are pulled off "fuck professor maximoff I've been so naughty I need you to fuck me hard" I whimper as I hear her pants being unzipped she spreads my legs and moans at the view I can't help but feel a little shy as she stares at me my cunt dripping I quickly cover my mouth and scream as I feel her sink deep inside me "uhhh fuck princess so tight for mommy" I moan and nod looking round "fuck to big mommy I I can't" I breath out as she leans over making me moan at the sudden movements "you can do it kitten shhh you're being so good for mommy I promise it will feel good in a minute" she moans rubbing my shoulders as I feel her thrusting slowly I can't help but moan "so good so good" I whimper as her hands run down my body to my hips as she increases her thrusts "uhhhhh fuck fuck fuckkkk"

I moan louder as she starts to pound into me harder slamming her full length deep inside me hitting my gspot repeatedly "if I ever hear another bit of attitude coming from that pretty mouth I'll fuck it out of you kitten" she moans thrusting harder "well looks...like...I'm gonna have an attitude..every...everyday" I moan out as I feel my orgasm approach "I'm gonna I'm uhhh" I scream as I cum making professor maximoff groan at the sensation she doesn't stop she only gets faster pounding my cunt relentlessly "fuck this pussy is mine do you understand " she moans I lay spread across her desk unable to form words as she pounds me over and over I feel the second orgasm hit me as she groans "fuck kitten your walls are  squeezing me so fucking good you're doing amazing give me one more" she moans as she keeps her thrusts going I can't help but whimper and drool all over her desk it feels so fucking good but I swear I'm gonna pass out "gonna...cum mommy...I " my eyes roll as she slams deep inside me cumming deep inside me as I cum all over her cock she leans her body on mine moaning into my ear "fuck kitten I've never came like that before you're such a good girl for mommy" I whimper and nod "only for you mommy" I pant trying to get my breath back as she slides out and I stand up fixing my skirt as I feel my legs shaking "I'm keeping these" she smirks holding up my panties putting them into her pocket making me bite my lip "I can't wait for monday" I smirk as I walk away on shaky legs not saying anything else. 

AN: I think I'm going to do a part 2 of this in the next hour of the events of the weekend requests are open haha stay hydrated people word count is 1.6k 

[secretobsessionstuff]

nawwwhh man you aint gotta feel bad about not doin sicktember. im bein real here, i thought i was and i did like 3, so i aint either. but if you really do want me to request one, i'd probably do psychogenic fever/stress induced illness with madix bein sickie bc itd relate to me personally the most (bc i always get stress sick and i'd love to see madix sick witb it too (bonis point if dakota take care of him GOD i loved the fic where dakote took care of him))

Hey man, thanks for always being there and loving my fics. I hope you like this one even though it's nearly two fucking years late I swear.

This fic is set in the past when Madix and Dakota are in school together.

CW: Graphic description of vomiting! It's seriously so gross I love it lol.

-------------------

A flood of relieved students rushed past Dakota. He swam against the current looking for Madix among the test-takers. Since it was 2pm, they were no longer test-takers, but the sea of knowledge inside their brains would still be there until the PTSD of organic chemistry was washed away by time. 

Dakota knew how anxious Madix had been for this final. The dreaded Orgo Chem kept his roommate up for the past three nights. It was a known fact that this second-year course was a killer, and Madix’s prof was a distinguished serial killer. Many students retook Orgo in the summer, trying for that passing grade with perhaps a more lenient prof. 

With the hallway now empty—all the students having left—it was easy for Dakota to find Madix. He hadn’t expected his friend to stick around after the final was over, but there he was sitting on the floor by the large windows. Madix looked like a crab, trying to find safety in the shell of his hunched over back. He had his head in his hands and was rubbing his temples as if the trauma of the exam pooled behind his eyes. 

“Hey, how did it go?” It was a very pointless question given that Madix was curled into a question mark. 

“Fuck if I know,” Madix slurred as he slid his hands down his face. “I keep going over every question, doubting my answers.” 

“Well, it’s over now so you don’t need to think about it.” It worried Dakota how glassy and fragile Madix’s eyes looked, like he was about to cry or explode into flames. His cheeks were pale and sunken too. 

“I need a 73 to pass the class.” 

Dakota squinted. “Mmh sounds like you’re still thinking about it.” 

Madix dropped his hands to his side. “I can’t stop. That exam is all I’ve been thinking about for the last week. I haven’t even had time to study for Anatomy tomorrow.”

With a sigh, Dakota sat down on the floor next to his friend. “I brought you something to take your mind off studying.” From behind his back, Dakota revealed a fast-food bag from the student lounge. It was Madix’s favourite place to get comfort food because of the crispy fries, the juicy burger, and the creamy milkshake. Madix didn’t like to indulge that craving too often because it was a greasy cheat meal that often left him feeling bloated, but Dakota thought it would be a nice gesture since Madix had hardly eaten anything leading up to this exam. 

He was about to hand his friend the grease-wrapped gift, but hesitated. The heat coming off Madix’s body was alarming. Dakota could feel the waves just sitting next to him. A quick touch to Madix’s forehead with the back of his hand told Dakota that he’d been neglecting his roommate. 

“Shit, Mads, you’re burning up. I didn’t know you were sick all this time.” 

“I’m not sick.” Like a starving animal, Madix reached for the bag of food, but Dakota held it out of his reach. 

“Bullshit. You can deny it all you want, but your head’s on fire, buddy.” 

“I know.” 

Dakota couldn’t stop his lecture now, as if the two of them hadn’t heard enough lecturing the whole year. “You’re the one in pre-med, you should know—wait what?” 

Madix sighed at the theatrics of his friend. “I’ve had a fever for three days. It’s not going away.” He rubbed his own forehead, feeling the familiar yet puzzling temperature. “I don’t have any other symptoms. I think it’s from stress.” 

It was honestly the oddest feeling. Madix could feel himself cooking from the inside. His cells buzzed like the many diagrams of excited particles when submitted to heat. But there was nothing else to indicate a virus or infection. His throat was fine; his nose was clear. If anything, he was infected with school. Perhaps his nose was clogged with equations and his throat was sore from reciting textbook chapters. 

Dakota looked skeptical. “So, you gave yourself a fever from worrying?” 

“Yes, it’s a medical mystery. They should name a disease after me. Anyway, gimme burger.” Madix reached for the food like a child with grubby fingers. 

Dakota scooted away from his friend, taking the prize with him. “I don’t know, Mads. You really don’t look well. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to eat something so heavy.” 

“Come on. You know I’ve been surviving on goldfish crackers.” It was only now that he could smell the fries and beef that Madix realized how hungry he was. His stomach was aching for something substantial. “Besides, I need the energy to study for Anatomy. It’s tomorrow by the way.” 

“Tomorrow? But you just had orgo.” 

“I have a shit exam schedule this year.” Madix pouted. “Please, Kota. It will make me feel better.” 

Finally, Dakota relented. He had bought it for Madix after all. But now he was worried that it was the exact opposite of what the overworked boy needed. 

He watched Madix stuff his face with his first real meal in 72 hours. The burger disappeared in record time. Fatty juices glistened on Madix’s chin as he dug into the fries. His fingers were coated in grease and fry seasoning by the time he was done. In between each mouthful, he took longs slurps of the Oreo milkshake. 

“You wanna slow down there, bud?” Dakota asked incredulously. There wasn’t much more to eat at this point. 

Madix dragged his sleeve over his mouth and shook his head. “Have to start studying soon.” He swallowed the last bite of fries and sucked at the last remnants of the milkshake. Madix let out a long burp at the end and sighed. 

“I’m not gonna lie, that was impressive.” Dakota couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’re getting more colour in your cheeks.” Maybe the meal really had been a good thing. “But I’m still worried about this voodoo fever though.” 

“It won’t go away until the exams do.” 

‘Then neither will I.” Dakota stood firm in this decision. He wasn’t going to let Madix get burnt out…literally. His hardest exams were done, so he could keep a closer eye on Madix now. “I’ll study with you in the library.” 

“You don’t have to, Kota. I’ll be fine.” 

“I want to.” 

By the tone of Dakota’s voice, Madix could tell that he wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine, but we’re studying in the red zone.” 

“Not the red zone! Anything but that.” 

Madix shrugged. “You’re the one who insisted on babysitting.”

• • •

The red zone was the fourth circle of hell—also known as the library during exam season. 

It was the quietest level of the building, reserved exclusively for students to study in absolute silence. No talking, no phones, you couldn’t even sneeze without getting dirty looks. You could hear a pencil drop and then watch that pencil be escorted out of the red zone. 

As someone with ADHD, Dakota hated the red zone. He much preferred the orange or yellow zone. At least in the orange zone, you could whisper and cough without being shunned. The yellow zone allowed for conversation and anxious tapping. He admitted that the green zone was definitely not ideal for studying. That was the first level of the library were students could openly cry over their exams or practice for their theater final that involved a murder scene. 

Dakota pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from moving on their own. 

Madix on the other hand had no issue keeping his mouth shut. The nausea forced his lips together. 

The fast food was quickly catching up to him, staying true to its name even inside his stomach. It hadn’t taken long before the burger, fries, and milkshake resisted digestion. The meal churned in his belly like a wad of chewing gum. 

The red zone was popular during this time of year, so Madix and Dakota hunted for two chairs next to each other. They found a long table with many students already studying there, but luckily there were two empty spots across from each other. Madix was grateful to be sitting across from Dakota so that he could rub his upset stomach discreetly. 

Unfortunately, the red zone was not a good place to have a gurgly tummy. The girl next to Madix gave him the stink eye when the organ groaned, tossing chewed up cow inside his gut. He felt grease sticking to his throat and hot burps in his chest. He pushed down every belch lest he be escorted out of the level. 

The words of the anatomy textbook swam across the page. Madix felt his fever ignite with a vengeance. Now he was dizzy, disoriented, and disgustingly full. There was heat behind his eyes that turned his vision to soup. Everything he needed to know for the exam was right in front of him in the book, but the letters became alphabet stew on a white background. 

He dared not look up at his friend in fear that Dakota would see right through him. 

Dakota could not study in such an environment, so naturally he saw every twinge of nausea flash across Madix’s expression. His poor friend was not having a good time. Madix’s cheeks were now flushed bright red, and beads of sweat gathered on his brow. 

In the dead quiet of the library, he could hear Madix’s stomach struggle to digest the heavy meal. Dakota kicked himself for giving into Madix’s begging. The nausea was no doubt thwarting his efforts at studying which created a vicious cycle of stress and pain. 

Dakota did a quick doodle in his notebook and passed it to Madix. He was quite proud of his drawing and had to keep in a chuckle. 

Madix frowned at the drawing. Along the top were the words Green Zone Now? Below Dakota’s messy handwriting was a drawing of a green-faced emoji. Its cheeks were ballooned with vomit. It seemed he wasn’t hiding his ailment so well. 

On the same page, Madix wrote back I’m fine. Must study. Madix didn’t think he needed to go to the green zone, despite what his complexion said. He could control his stomach. The food would stay down; it had to. 

Dakota gave Madix a disappointed look when he got the note back. Why must he be so stubborn? Dakota had to drop the matter. Aside from physically picking up his friend, he didn’t see any other way of convincing Madix to take a break for the sake of his health. He wasn’t going to be making any compelling arguments in the red zone. 

Madix tried to ignore his blistering fever and his unhappy guts.

Systemic Anatomy was hard to study for when he was so keenly aware of his digestive system. He imagined partially digested fries mixing with the gastric juices in his belly. His body went through the steps with much difficulty. 

The muscular organ was literally in the process of contracting itself to squeeze all the nutrients out of the fast food. Madix did not like the squeezing. He hugged his aching middle and laid his head on the table in defeat. 

It didn’t seem likely that the food would continue on to his intestines. His stomach couldn’t handle the greasy meal after days of hardly anything to eat. On top of all this, his body was too busy fighting a made-up virus called stress. The stress was very real, but his immune system was taking it too literally. It was no wonder why he couldn’t keep the meal down. 

Madix couldn’t stop the burp from coming up. It burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his throat with acid. The girl next to him shushed him. Her expression was as sour as his stomach. He didn’t have the will to apologize for the noise. Regardless, he wouldn’t have had the chance to say sorry anyway because another burp filled his mouth with sticky saliva. 

Dakota looked up quickly to see Madix hunched over his chair and gagging into his hand. Another sickly belch bubbled up, draining the colour from Madix’s face. 

Before Dakota could do anything, he watched Madix lurch forward with a loud heave. Thick vomit spewed from his mouth and fell onto the table in front of him. The sick quickly spilled onto Madix’s lap. 

“Oh, shit Maddy,” Dakota cooed as he came to his friend’s side. He didn’t bother with the anti-social etiquette of the red zone, not that it mattered though because everyone in their vicinity bolted from the room. No one wanted to risk catching whatever Madix had during their exams. 

Madix coughed and sputtered. Scandalous! He could only moan miserably before the muscles in his belly contracted again, sending up another wave of mushy fries and curdled milkshake. Dark flecks of Oreo and beef dotted the sick. 

“Oh God…” Madix choked out. “I can’t stop.”

Dakota rubbed his friend’s back while trying not to look at the growing pool of vomit that was…everywhere. “It’s okay, buddy. Just let it out.” The same heat from before lived beneath Madix’s skin. Dakota could feel the fever through his clothes. “No one is here. You’re good. Do what you need to do.” 

Madix’s belly gave another deep lurch. The pressure forced the undigested food up his open esophagus. If this wasn’t the best way to study the digestive system, then Madix didn’t know what else to do besides open himself up like a cadaver. 

His fever made the room spin around him. If he had any sort of receptacle, he probably would have missed. Luckily, he had no issue catching his notebook, his lap, and his shoes in the process. 

“Good job,” Dakota encouraged. He patted Madix’s back firmly. “Get it all out. Get that stress out too while you’re at it.” 

Madix had to admit that there was something cathartic about this purge. He felt lighter with each bout that left his body. He gave over to his subconscious mind and let his body do what it needed to do. He probably should have listened to the hunger and sleep cues before this, but he was listening now to the Get Out cues. 

If stressed looked like a melted Oreo milkshake then it was certainly no longer in his body. He tried to imagine the pressure and the expectations and the need for validation leaving his body along with the vomit. 

When Madix caught a break, he couldn’t help but give a chuckle. “This is the red zone. I just puked in the red zone.” 

Dakota laughed with him. “All over it really.” He looked around at the empty room. “You scared everyone away. They must think you have the plague.” 

“I think we’re all infected with it. This pressure—it’s an epidemic, man.” 

“Don’t go turning into a philosopher.” Dakota took a step back from his friend. It wasn’t a good view, but he was happy to see Madix’s shoulders relaxed. “Do you need anything? Water? Sleep?” 

“Both.” Madix slowly stood up from his chair, cringing at the wetness that made his shirt cling to his body. “But I think I better find someone who works here.” Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I should have listened to you, huh?”  

“Let’s discuss my vast amount of wisdom when everything’s cleaned up, shall we?" 

[sandwichfordinner]

Hi its me strawberry anon *greedily eats ALL OF UR WORK* i missed u <3 so ill have a request

Can u do naib, ganji, luca, and edgar meeting their GN! S/O again after getting stuck in the game? its like us when u quit and came back frfr

Hello strawberry anon!🍓 Thank you for the support and thank you requesting! Here is your meal🥘

Tw: angsty at the beginning

˖ ָ࣪ 𓏲⋆.

ɴᴀɪʙ

It has been 4 days since he last saw you in a match and you didn’t return. He was so worried he thought he lost you forever. Even in matches he was searching everywhere in the sacred heart hospital where he lastly saw you. He didn’t find you. He lost so many important people in the army and now you too.

He hasn’t really eaten, and some of the people were trying to cheer him up like mostly Emma, but he was always with that tired blank stare.

He even struggled with sleeping.. Your warmth.. Was gone.. Well thats what he thought.

It was that day that you got back, but badly injured, you had dried blood on ur face and head and scratches on your hands and legs. You were barely walking. The moment you opened the big door , Patricia saw you. She was passing , she flinched at the sudden opening of the door revealing your shaking figure trying to walk. You tried so hard staying in two legs but your legs gave up. She caught you from fainting and immediately screamed Emily’s and Naib’s name. Emily was the first one to see you and she quickly ran up to you , holding your tired figure. No so long after Naib came downstairs and when he saw you his eyes widened. He quickly ran and hugged you, crying. He stuttered and sobbed.

You are okay now, just two-three small scars on your body but they aren’t visible. He is so glad that you are back, you have no idea how worried he was for you.. You’re back..

Gᴀɴᴊɪ

Oh poor Ganji..

He wasn’t the same. He didn’t even touch his food most of the times. He just lost another person that meant a lot to him, and stayed by his side through this nightmare. His mother… and now you?? He cannot believe this. 6 days you haven’t returned.. What happened and where are you?? You and two other people had to search for some food. That was a rule in the manor. If you don’t want to go and find some food everyone will starve. And going out of the manor was quite dangerous too.. This isn’t some 5 star hotel that gives you tons of delicious food every week no no.. Find by yourself outside the manor or starve.

He began to sob quietly in his room all alone. Again..

There was a knock heard outside his door. But he didn’t manage to answer, and who stays that long, it’s 3:17 AM? (who is gonna tell him)

,,Ganji.. it’s me’’. Wait.. That voice that slipped out of the person’s throat was.. you?!

He quickly opened the door with widened eyes. You were standing in front of him with a soft smile, but little scratches on your face. You held some fruits for him in a basket.

He quickly hugged you almost making you drop the basket with the fruits, he started to shake and silently sob. He tried to talk but you hugged him back, telling him to not speak because he was about to have a breakdown.

It’s really you..

Lᴜᴄᴀ

He was laying on the sheets of his bed looking at the ceiling.

He felt empty. He couldn’t really explain it with words.

Luca is one of the energetic and fun people in the manor but since you were missing things went quite the opposite.

He was working on his inventions, but every time he messed up making him feel more and more mixed feeling of disappointment, anger and sadness.

You were last seen outside the manor , near the garden where Emma plants. At least that’s what Eli said.

What happened? Where are you? Those questions were roaming his head.

He started tearing up, saying bunch of ,,I miss you,, or ,,please come back,, . He curled like a ball on his bed, having a big pain in his stomach from worry.

It has been three hours and Luca was sleeping. He opened his eyes and got up from his bed, almost fainting from low iron. He was barely walking down the halls so he can get a glass of water. He looked at the big windows to see it was night time. What time is it??..

As he went in the little kitchen where the people shared , he saw a figure drinking some water. It looked… familiar. He got a closer look and it was his s/o…

You quickly noticed him and smiled warmly at him. Is he dreaming? What is going on.

He was staring at you with widened eyes, his words were stuck in his throat, he couldn’t speak. You gave him that ‘I will explain you later’ look, which he quickly understood (is that even possible or..)

You gave him a tight hug , letting him to spill all his emotions on you.. He returned the hug more tightly than you, crying. He didn’t want to let you go. Just for a minute..

Eᴅɢᴀʀ

‘Where are you?’ , that’s what he thought while he was about to start a match.

He felt more closed than before.

As the match started , he was the first one to be chased. He did really badly , he barely kited 20 seconds. He was tired, and didn’t even felt like walking. Before Geisha could pick him up he started crying. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, his body couldn’t move. She noticed him and just stared at him. She quietly sighed, meaning she was apologising, tied him in balloons and placed him on the rocket chair. He wasn’t even struggling.

Tears couldn’t stop falling down his cheeks, he was looking down at the floor, while his teammates were screaming at him ,,You’re on your own!’’ from afar. Michiko stayed silent. It was obvious that no one was going to rescue him.

He flew back to the manor.

When he was exiting from the match room, he saw you sitting on a old wooden chair waiting. Were you waiting for him?? What.. WHAT

You looked up and smiled at him, you had bandages on your hands.

,,Edgar.’’ Your quiet and sweet voice made him feel.. what is that? Sad and happy?

,,I-is this really you..?” Edgar barely spoke, you stood up and held his hands.. Oh they had blood on them, he even had scars from them.. His outfit was dirty looking and a little torn.

You softly looked at him. ,,What happened love? Let’s go to your room and talk and heal your wounds, yeah?’’ You kissed his knuckles making him feel butterflies in his stomach.

,,I-I..” he was so confused. ,,Please..?’’

,,Of course” you kissed his wet cheek ,,I will tell you everything, and I promise I won’t leave you again.’’

[angeledeggs]

Can you pls do a HC for the courtiers where their S/o caught some illness and fell into a coma due to it? (Sleeping beauty sorta). Also how would they react after they wake up after a year or two? (:

//How are you doing? Had a nice day so far

This is so creative, yeah, I'll do it! I'm alright. Sorry writing has taken me longer 😭 I'm trying to make it higher quality for y'all to enjoy<33 thank all of yall for the requests!

Valerius🍷:

Oh gods, he's a mess.

He's already kind of a drinker but he DEFINITELY is drinking much more the first few weeks you fall into a coma.

Then he realizes that like, he definitely can't do that, what if you wake up and see him a drunken mess?

But then he realizes that you waking up is an if, and he drinks more.

He only stops when there happens to be a coincidental shortage of all spirits and all of the sort, and everything kind of clicks into place for him.

He has definite faith that you're going to wake up, and barely leaves your side.

He's a politician and as such, has countless meetings and scheduled appearances and things like that.

He ignores every one.

He'll make sure to take care of you in your coma, constantly checking your pulse, you're temperature, your breath. He even pays hundreds of physicians to try and help you, but none can find the answer. So he just stays with you and hopes.

He feels like a creep, always sitting with you, but he knows you're his lover and he'll stay with you for as long as it takes until you wake up.

He has so many dreams of you that when you finally awake, his first thought is he's dreaming. His hands reach out for you, though, instinctively, and when he touches your skin and sees your eyes he knows it's not a dream and bursts into tears immediately.

He'll definitely call your wake a miracle and will choke out prayers for the first time in years as he holds you.

Vlastomil🐛:

Valerius might numb the pain he feels with wine, but Vlastomil doesn't engage in such disgusting alcohol for his body.

The first few weeks he's anxiously jumping everytime he thinks he sees your breath sputter or pause, and is quick to check your breath and heartbeat.

He's desperate, and tries to read every book for anything he can find about your coma. He calls doctors, magicians, curse breakers, everyone, but he cant find anyone to help.

When the first month of your coma happens, he takes up smoking again.

But not just any type of smoking, no. When he was younger he would go for a cigar every now and then, but in the event of your coma he smokes two packs of simply cigarettes, right in a row, and when his chest wheezes, he only feels numb.

He never smokes in your room, he always smokes on the balcony, as he's too afraid that the smoke will hurt you.

After around a week of chain-smoking, he finally just quits. There's no point, as it barely calms him down. But he still shakes for cigarettes, for your awakening, so he drinks cup after cup of tea.

He finds it hard just to make one cup, when he's become so accustomed to making two.

You awake as his tea water is boiling, but he hears the slightest shift from your room and runs in so quickly that he knocks the pot clean off the stove.

He bursts into immediate, relieved tears when he sees you're finally awake, and embraces you as he falls to his knees, unable to even get out how he missed you so.

Valdemar💉:

They don't need anyone else's help.

You're the love of their life, they will be the one to care for you. They needn't any other doctor, any other magician, any of their assistants, nothing.

They practically dote on you, wait on you as if it is their life's duty. And as far as they're concerned, it is now, because they have abandoned their work and left it to collect dust in the dungeons.

They even leave their beloved beetles to Julian to take care of, for the are bugs and their pride and joy, yes, but you are the one person that softens them, their beloved, someone who they are certain is their soulmate.

They grow frustrated after months and months. They're a doctor, a scientist, a genius, dammit, and they can't figure out what's wrong.

They consider making another deal for your consciousness. But no. They will not sacrifice what's left of them another time. They will not rope you into their own mistakes. They will not give the devil what he wants.

They're transformed in the months of your coma. Their bandages are either dreadfully tight or messily loose, no in between, and their already gaunt body has turned thinner with the stress.

They are in a state of always checking your pulse, always stroking your hair, always whispering to the sun and moon their love for you, their pleas for you to return.

They move you often from not just laying but sitting positions so that when you awake you have no aches. For you will wake up. You will wake up or they will go with you.

And when you finally wake up, they can barely even speak. They can't speak. You have taken their work, their motivation, their remaining care for the beetles. They simply can't do it without you. And they drop to their knees in front of you, reaching for the pulse on your wrist, to feel it.

They feel a steady beat, rather than the slow, sleepy one that had plagued you in your coma. And they slump in relief, smile, kiss you with their mask on in their rush. You're back.

Volta🍰:

She just thinks you're really tired, at first. Then you're sleeping two days in a row and she is quite worried. She thinks you might be drunk or injured, but the alcohol cabinet is the way she left it and your body is relaxed with that of sleep, not slow death.

She's of course, an anxious mess. Usually, she simply cries when stressed, but she finds herself so worried that her tears turn into yelling. She screams at every doctor that doesn't know what to do with you until soon no more doctors will come and assess the situation.

She's so worried for you, that you'll die, and for a few days she ends up sleeping next to you, sobbing softly and praying to whoever will listen that she wants you to be fine when she wakes up. And after a few days she knows it's pointless.

She does her best to keep you comfortable, always adjusting your blankets to make sure your temperature is fine, carefully brushing your hair, trying to rouse you by lighting the incense.

She also tries to keep calm. She feels as though she is a doll that is splitting at the seams, and so she tries to engage in her hobby of baking, but when she finally finishes a cake and realizes you won't see it she collapses in the kitchen in grief.

She tries other hobbies.

Sewing is the only one she can handle, as she can be in the same room with you and sew you things for when you wake up. If you wake up. When you wake up.

She falls asleep with her needle and thread in her hand countless times and one day when she wakes, you're rubbing your eyes and sitting up.

Volta finds herself frozen for a long moment. Then she leaps over to you, wraps her arms around your shoulders and finally, she can cry and hold you with relief.

Vulgora⚔️:

They're usually very angry.

Usually.

But when they realize you're not sleeping, you're in a coma, they find themself a sudden, broken shell of their warrior spirit.

They try to reason with themself. They have won countless wars. They have killed thousands. They have seen countries rise and fall, and will continue to. But seeing you like this has made them weak.

You are their only weakness, and as such, they protect you with their life. Nobody hears of you or them, and they are constantly by your side, brushing back your hair and feeling for your heartbeat.

They rarely leave your side and as such, lose weight from how little they eat, in fear of leaving you and coming back to you hurt or.. Worse.

Their muscles are in a constant state of tense or shaking, and they find their strength has somehow left with your beautiful laugh and eyes. When they try to grab their sword, they crumble beneath their own very weapon that has slain all who faced them.

When you awake though, they suddenly stop shaking. Their muscles are hard with shock. And then they relax. And they collapse next to you, reach out for you, sighing of how relieved they are to see you awake, finally.

❀

PS GUYS OH MY GOD I THINK THIS MIGHT JUST BE ONE OF MY BEST WORKS I WASNT EVEN PLANNING TO RIGHT TODAY THIS ALL JUST HAPPENED LIKE OH MY GOD??? I GOT POSSESSED BY THE WRITERS BEFORE ME???? OH MY GOD YIPPEE

[ausetkmt]

Video shows migrants waiting before ill-fated migrant boat voyage

03:41 - Source: CNN

CNN  — 

The hull of the fishing trawler lifted out of the water as it sank, catapulting people from the top deck into the black sea below. In the darkness, they grabbed onto whatever they could to stay afloat, pushing each other underwater in a frantic fight for survival. Some were screaming, many began to recite their final prayers.

“I can still hear the voice of a woman calling out for help,” one survivor of the migrant boat disaster off the coast of Greece told CNN. “You’d swim and move floating bodies out of your way.”

With hundreds of people still missing after the overloaded vessel capsized in the Mediterranean on June 14, the testimonies of those who were onboard paint a picture of chaos and desperation. They also call into question the Greek coast guard’s version of events, suggesting more lives could have been saved, and may even point to fault on the part of Greek authorities.

Rights groups allege the tragedy is both further evidence and a result of a new pattern in illegal pushbacks of migrant boats to other nations’ waters, with deadly consequences.

This boat was carrying up to 750 Pakistani, Syrian, Egyptian and Palestinian refugees and migrants. Only 104 people have been rescued alive.

CNN has interviewed multiple survivors of the shipwreck and their relatives, all of whom have wished to remain anonymous for security reasons and the fear of retribution from authorities in both Greece and at home.

One survivor from Syria, whom CNN is identifying as Rami, described how a Greek coast guard vessel approached the trawler multiple times to try to attach a rope to tow the ship, with disastrous results.

“The third time they towed us, the boat swayed to the right and everyone was screaming, people began falling into the sea, and the boat capsized and no one saw anyone anymore,” he said. “Brothers were separated, cousins were separated.”

Another Syrian man, identified as Mostafa, also believes it was the maneuver by the coast guard that caused the disaster. “The Greek captain pulled us too fast, it was extremely fast, this caused our boat to sink,” he said.

The Hellenic Coast Guard has repeatedly denied attempting to tow the vessel. An official investigation into the cause of the tragedy is still ongoing.

Coast guard spokesman Nikos Alexiou told CNN over the phone last week: “When the boat capsized, we were not even next to (the) boat. How could we be towing it?” Instead, he insisted they had only been “observing at a close distance” and that “a shift in weight probably caused by panic” had caused the boat to tip.

The Hellenic Coast Guard has declined to answer CNN’s specific requests for response to the survivor testimonies.

Direct accounts from those who survived the wreck have been limited, due to their concerns about speaking out and the media having little access to the survivors. CNN interviewed Rami and Mostafa outside the Malakasa migrant camp near Athens, where journalists are not permitted entry.

The Syrian men said the conditions on board the migrant boat deteriorated fast in the more than five days after it set off from Tobruk, Libya, in route to Italy. They had run out of water and had resorted to drinking from storage bottles that people had urinated in.

“People were dying. People were fainting. We used a rope to dip clothes into the sea and use that to squeeze water on people who had lost consciousness,” Rami said.

CNN’s analysis of marine traffic data, combined with information from NGOs, merchant vessels and the European Union border patrol agency, Frontex, suggests that Greek authorities were aware of the distressed vessel for at least 13 hours before it eventually sank early on June 14.

The Greek coast guard has maintained that people onboard the trawler had refused rescue and insisted they wanted to continue their journey to Italy. But survivors, relatives and activists say they had asked for help multiple times.

Earlier in the day, other ships tried to help the trawler. Directed by the Greek coast guard, two merchant vessels – Lucky Sailor and Faithful Warrior – approached the boat between 6 and 9 p.m. on June 13 to offer supplies, according to marine traffic data and the logs of those ships. But according to survivors this only caused more havoc onboard.

“Fights broke out over food and water, people were screaming and shouting,” Mostafa said. “If it wasn’t for people trying to calm the situation down, the boat was on the verge of sinking several times.”

By early evening, six people had already died onboard, according to an audio recording reviewed by CNN from Italian activist Nawal Soufi, who took a distress call from the migrant boat at around 7 p.m. Soufi’s communication with the vessel also corroborated Mostafa’s account that people moved from one side of the boat to the other after water bottles were passed from the cargo ships, causing it to sway dangerously.

The haunting final words sent from the migrant boat came just minutes before it capsized. According to a timeline published by NGO Alarm Phone they received a call, at around 1:45 a.m., with the words “Hello my friend… The ship you send is…” Then the call cuts out.

The coast guard says the vessel began to sink at around 2 a.m.

The next known activity in the area, according to marine traffic data, was the arrival of a cluster of vessels starting around 3 a.m. The Mayan Queen superyacht was the first on the scene for what soon became a mass rescue operation.

Human rights groups say the authorities had a duty to act to save lives, regardless of what people on board were saying to the coast guard before the migrant boat capsized.

“The boat was overcrowded, was unseaworthy and should have been rescued and people taken to safety, that’s quite clear,” UNHCR Special Envoy for the Central Mediterranean Vincent Cochetel told CNN in an interview. “There was a responsibility for the Greek authorities to coordinate a rescue to bring those people safely to land.”

Cochetel also pointed to a growing trend by countries, including Greece, to assist migrant boats in leaving their waters. “That’s a practice we’ve seen in recent months. Some coastal states provide food, provide water, sometimes life jackets, sometimes even fuel to allow such boats to continue to only one destination: Italy. And that’s not fair, Italy cannot cope with that responsibility alone.”

Survivors who say the coast guard tried to tow their boat say they don’t know what the aim was.

There have been multiple documented examples in recent years of Greek patrol boats engaging in so-called “pushbacks” of migrant vessels from Greek waters in recent years, including in a CNN investigation in 2020.

“It looks like what the Greeks have been doing since March 2020 as a matter of policy, which is pushbacks and trying to tow a boat to another country’s water in order to avoid the legal responsibility to rescue,” Omer Shatz, legal director of NGO Front-LEX, told CNN. “Because rescue means disembarkation and disembarkation means processing of asylum requests.”

Pushbacks are state measures aimed at forcing refugees and migrants out of their territory, while impeding access to legal and procedural frameworks, according to the Berlin-based European Center for Constitutional and Human Rights (ECCHR). They are a violation of international law, as well as European regulations.

And such measures do not appear to have deterred human traffickers whose businesses prey on vulnerable and desperate migrants.

In an interview with CNN last month, then Greek Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis denied that his country engaged in intentional pushbacks and described them as a “completely unacceptable practice.” Mitsotakis is widely expected to win a second term in office in Sunday’s election, after failing to get an outright majority in a vote last month.

A series of Greek governments have been criticized for their handling of migration policy, including conditions in migrant camps, particularly following the 2015-16 refugee crisis, when more than 1 million people entered Europe through the country.

For those who lived through last week’s sinking, the harrowing experience will never be forgotten.

Mostafa and Rami both say they wish they had never made the journey, despite the fact they are now in Europe and are able to claim asylum.

Most of all, Mostafa says, he wishes the Greek coast guard had never approached their boat: “If they had left us be, we wouldn’t have drowned.”

[corvusspecialartist]

Caged Bird (Corax)

You were awake. You were brought here to the Dark tower of Deliverance. You had a nightmare, dreaming of disease and pain. Honestly, it was odd that you were having the same reoccurring dream. But never mind, you had a routine to follow. The owner of the great tower Corax, was away at the moment. This place was a monastery first, and your home second.

Getting dressed, to be honest, you had no idea of how long you were here exactly. There were no chronometers and only Marines attended to you instead of common serfs. The excuse that the primarch had given was that the serfs were on special missions for his cause. While, it maybe true…though maybe it was a way of training the newly fledged Scouts on how to deal with humanity. Getting dressed, in modest black robes. It was what you were comfortable with. You left the room and wandered around the section of the tower. You were given almost free reign on the tower, minus the Eiyre and the lowest floor.

Although, you tried to communicate with the occasional serfs that you have seen, they either ignored you, or spoke with harsh speedy tones. This had to be the some point in the early years of the thirty-first millennium , you remembered the time where the Warmaster Horus and the Emperor would hold a great triumph. However, when you tried to express this to the serfs… before they tried to hide you their faces contorted disgust and anger, before telling you that the parade would happen in a decade or so. Why would the serfs be so angry with the Warmaster in this way? Maybe this would be a question for Corax when he returned. Getting nowhere, you decided to return to your room. After all, maybe Horus could explain everything? You had tried to question the Marines outside about the whereabouts of the Warmaster and Lord Corax, but it was met with gritty silence. After that, you would spend time either entertaining yourself with the finest hobbies (with limited noon-sphere connection of course), and often read books. You could request certain titles, but they had to be approved. Many of your inquires on the history of the Horus from your favorite remembrancer were frequently denied… maybe they just didn't like their work.

That was basically your life… Day in and Day out. You lived a quiet life of luxury… often taking supplements whenever you fell ill from the rare disease. Until you day, you overheard the Marines guarding the area speaking. "Lord Corax, she remains unaware… though she asks about your brother and the current situation. She is showing no signs of disease either… except for the reoccurring nightmare." "Hm.. odd. I will be returning here within the week.. so keep a closer watch." You blinked twice.. trying to process the precious information that you had just heard, current situation?… what time and year was it? There were no clocks or windows in the room, at the time.. the excuse given was it was for security measures…and you had bought it at the time. You remembered going out with Corvus with this siblings and the other primarch consorts. To be honest… when was the last time you had seen them.. you were in good contact with your favorite one. But, Lord Corax was coming, and despite the feeling of deja vu, personally you did not feel anything. Maybe it was time for you to break one of those rules.. you needed answers. So you bided your time, waiting until the primarch arrived. Eventually, Corax had arrived in your chambers. the Scouts guarding the chamber had left. You turned and looked at the tall primarch… his pale skin, and with long black hair. He was beautiful, and some part of your mind yearned for him.. but you shook the thoughts out of your head. He gave a grin, yet it seemed sad. Approaching him, you asked. 'What is happening? Where's Horus?" Corvus turned and sighed. 'I have told you… He is busy at the moment… with wrapping up the Emperor's vision… " He trailed off. The answer proved unsatisfactory.. but he seemed so happy. So you decided to drop it to try and keep the peace. Corax approached you and picked you up hugging you in such a way that as if he hasn't seen you in a decade… He smelt of blood and chemical sweat. Carefully, he set you down. "Come on. We must have things to do." Maybe, you could find a way to loose him… and make it to the forbidden rooms.

It was not until hours had passed until you were put back into your room. Maybe that was intentional… but you were exhausted…you collapsed on the bed. Your dream however, was stranger… Your body was covered in many wounds and open sores… your teeth were falling out. You were on an unknown barge… You coughed letting out some blood. It was painful… and soon a large bloated figure appeared in front of you. He was wide with sickly yellow skin… he was taller than you and you could hear some faint buzzing. He turned and spoke to you. "Feel out the truth… and tell none of this dream." Somehow you could not place the figure… but then you woke up. You felt a cold sweat dripping down, the lights in your room… were still dark. It was now or never.

Quickly you got dressed and soon made careful steps, oddly the guard were gone. It seemed convenient.. but you did not dwell on that. Soon, you made your way throughout the tower, trying your best to avoid the serfs doing nightly duties in the area. After a while, eventually you made it to the forbidden area…The door was large and black.. and was bolted with many grav seal locks and chains… There had to be a way in. A thought went though your head. "Maybe you can enter in…using your clearance." It was true that Lord Corax have given you full access.. but it was worth a shot. Carefully, you placed your hand on the servo scanner, and to your surprise it opened. Honestly, it seemed rather weird. There were little to no guards…only serfs, and you were not quite sure if Marines could really sleep anyway. In fact, it was odd, how there were much fewer Marines… you knew that the Ravens were small in numbers.. but it couldn't have been that bad. The door made a noise and removed its servo locks.. you had to be quick. You entered and just tried to follow your instincts. Your heart was starting to pound, as you felt deja vu. Why exactly did you know the way?, were there others before you? You ran and entered the room and it was a horror. Rows of rows of vats of human bodies just laying in stasis. You almost stiffed a scream, but you have come so far to turn back. You carefully approached one… and saw you. Stepping back, running towards another.. it was identical. What was happening… your hearts started to beat as you backed and heard.

"You had to find out eventually." You recognized that voice. It was filled with sadness and regret. Lord Corax… "Why didn't you tell me?!" You shouted out… "That I am a clone?!" You backed away form him. "You… I never had a chance! To live… so that's were my dreams were trying to warn me!" He approached closer, his black armor merging into the darkened room, but his pale face sticking out like grim mask.

"How many of came before me? And How did.. the original die?" Corvus sighed… "You, original you..were on the Shadow Emperor on the Istvaan system… the ship and you were blown up by the Death Guard.., and you are the the fifth iteration."

You tried to turn and run… only to get grabbed and held up closer… his face… had tears coming from it. "I am sorry… I just couldn't lose you." You struggled and squirmed. How could he? You never had a chance. he other hand started to reach forward for you and you started to scream… and soon all went black.

Corvus had snapped your neck. He turned at your body and sighed. "It always seems to happen this way… why.. I should just stop." He raised a claw to the other vats… readying to destroy them.. but paused. "No. she just wasn't right." He started to hold your corpse clearly…"You will be given the greatest burial…" He had to make plans to drop of her corpse in mountains for a sky burial. Turning he pressed a button on the new one, the vat opened and the new you, would be take their first breaths of air…he would dress them and place them in a new room. He would try, for as long as it takes.. until you were back in his arms again.

A/N: This (terrible) one shot is a result from the winner of the poll for the poem inspired for "Caged Bird" by Maya Angelou. Read it here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48989/caged-bird

[willingbrainrot]

Request 😱

😂 sorry

i was wondering if you could do a Fred Weasley x reader where they have been friends for a long time and it’s sorta a slow burn and it throws the reader off because out of no where Fred starts to get really shy kinda around them and they are really confused. Until one night at a gryffindor party and he has had a few too many drinks and they reader gets him out of there so he won’t make a fool of himself and they go to the astronomy tower to kinda just chill out and he looks at the reader and everything just spills. He tells them that he has loved them for such a long time and he is just completely convinced they don’t feel the same way but the do lol.

thanks bestie boo :) 🙏🏻 🫶🏻 have fun with it :)))

Of course!

again, im not the best writer so hang in there lol i either write in too much detail or not enough usually so make sure to give me some constructive criticism!

Fred Weasley x gender neutral!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, underage drinking, gingers

Looking at the stars

I walk into my charms class, holding all my book maybe a bit too many and i scan the room until my eyes land on a certain red-head and his brother. Fred and George Weasley, Two identical twin brothers.

They may look the same but they are very different. I've always been closer to Fred rather than George, Fred and i just click! platonically of course! And that's all we'll ever be...

As i walk over to them Fred notices.

"Hey Y/N! Come sit!" Fred yells, waving at me.

I walk over and sit on his right and just get myself situated as Fred and George talks to the others. I suddenly notice Fred looking at me subtly, once i look back he quickly turns his head away. Huh, strange.. He's never acted like this before.

"What's up Fred? I say, scooching forward to get a better view of his face.

"O-oh! nothing! Don't worry about it y/n!" He's says, frantically. "Actually, i was wondering if you're going to the party in Gryffindor dorm? Its next week and it would be could if you would show up!" He says

"hm..", I'm not too sure if i would be welcomed seeing as I'm not a Gryffindor(Ignore this if you are). Maybe i should go, it could be fun! "maybe, ill think about it" I say, smiling at him.

He furrows his eyebrows "Okay fine, but you better give me an answer soon."

A few days later as i'm sitting outside reading, I hear something behind me. But before i could turn around, something grabs me by the shoulders.

"BOO!" I hear someone say and i jump in fear. I turn around to see... Fred. Of course.

"Not funny! I could of had a heart attack and died!" I say, unable to bite back my smile.

"oh noooo, darn" He says sarcastically as he sits besides me. Then he subtly scoots away a few inches I wonder what that's about?

"How caring." I sarcastically, smiling and looking into his eyes. I notice he's looking anywhere but my eyes, but i don't say anything. There he goes, acting odd again.

"Soooo, have you made up your mind about the party?" He says excitedly.

I smile, i've always loved seeing him get excited about hings, and how could i say no to that face. "Alright, fine. Ill go, as long as you don't leave me in a random corner not talking to anybody." I say, half-joking.

"I would never! i, am the most noble of all knights" He says in a joking tone with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Yeah sure you are, prince charming" I say, trying to hold back a small laugh. I notice a weird reaction from him when i called him that, and his face is getting redder? Maybe he's getting a sunburn, i don't know how gingers work.

On the night of the party I start to get ready, getting in my favorite outfit and heading to the Gryffindor common room. I look and see people all around with red solo cups and the dim lighting. Am.. am i late? I thought it started at 9, I look at my phone to see the time is 11:30. Ah, so i am. Whoops

I look around to see Fred and George, both chugging down punch from the punch bowl, i hope that's not spiked. I walk over to them and Fred quickly notices, stopping what he's doing to look at me.

"Y/N!!! HIIIII!!" He says excitedly, and very very loud. "Where were you!??? I wass looking everywhere but *HICCUP* couldn't find you!!" He says, slurring his word.

The punch was definitely spiked.

"Oh sorry Fred, I was late. But- are you okay?" I say, concern all over my face. He shakes his head as a no, then stops to think, then shakes his head yes. "W-what??" I say, very confused.

"Watcha doin?" He's says, giving me a cute little goofy smile.

"Ok, i'm getting you out of here you look like you're gonna fall over any second now." I say, sternly. I then grab his hand and start leading him.

I look behind me to make sure he's okay and see him staring at me with an odd expression. "Uh, whatcha looking at buddy?" I say softly.

"y-youre prettyy" He says giggling a bit. That's just the drink talking, i'm sure. I'm not his type, right?

I decide to go to astronomy tower, he plops down onto the floor looking at me, I start laughing a bit, seeing him like this is so weird. But either way, i decide to join him and sit next to him.

"Hhheyy y/n. ynow you're really really pretty. I like looking at your face" He slurrs, with a goofy smile on his face.

"I'm sure that's just the alcohol talking, Fred." I say, looking into my lap.

"But its not," He starts "I do think you're super prettyy! I really really really like you!" He says, extenuating the last really. "You're so sweet and funny, and you always laugh at my jokes! Even when they suck!" He says, lifting my chin to look at him.

I quickly become flustered at, well, everything that's going on right now! "s-so, you like like me?" I quietly say in a questioning tone.

"mmhm!" He hums " I always have! I was just afraid you wouldn't like me back..." He says, being a bit quieter at the last part. "I mean, you're so awesome! you deserve so much more than me. You deserve someone like c-" I cut him off, pulling him into a quick kiss.

It only lasted a second or two, but mage a huge impact

"you dummy, i've liked you since, well forever!" I say, still blushing, matching him. He looks at me, smiling.

We quietly hold hands, in a comfortable silence, looking at the stars.

I hope you enjoyed this! it was fun to write!

I think i may have wrote a bit too much but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

I am still currently taking requests and would love to hear your prompts!

[octuscle]

Dear representatives of the company Chronivak.

Аbout 2 weeks ago, we sent a group of experts headed by Professor Boych to you. Unfortunately, we did not receive any data from them and they did not return from the mission themselves. The General expert group of our Service is forced to send a new expert intelligence group to you, accompanied by the federal police and Marshal Lemo. Also, a representative of the general company of the Service, Mr. Alex Hrantz, will come to you. We strongly recommend not to obstruct the investigation, and to cancel your application as soon as possible if it poses a threat to the normal way of things in our world.

sincerely, Alex Hrantz

AASS

:P! the aass agin. Bruhs lebitchky and boyz have settled in well in the basement. Smoking weed, pumping iron, fucking. Whoever needs a gym buddy or a dealer @ chronivac, go 2 the basement gym 2 deez 2. Whatre the names of the 2 whomst r cumin now? lemon and schwanz? doesnt " schwanz" mean "dick" in german? im lmao! ill try 2 werk thru as many support calls as possible after my holiday. The desk is full enuff. The request frum alex d is almost 2 wks old. :P! now the ph1 is ringing 2. It's the security service frum reception. Wat do they want?

Sir, change of plans, sir! Apparently it's not allowed to turn AASS staff into stoners. And there are reports against me from today alone for violations of the Aliens Act, labour law, the Data Protection Ordinance and personal rights. That is why I have been temporarily suspended and transferred to the AASS security service.

New incoming support requests will only be accepted in exceptional cases. Anonymous requests that have not yet been answered will only be answered in exceptional cases. The processing of non-anonymous requests will be delayed.

Chronivac Inc and the AASS regret the circumstances that have occurred. The private use of Chronivac is not affected by these measures. Thank you for your confidence in our application!

[drdemonprince]

Regarding your “informed consent for all drugs” essay, I have a burning question I haven’t seen you address (if you have and I missed it, sorry!) What about things like antibiotics? IMO if you’re taking drugs that only affect you that’s one thing. I’m willing to give it consideration. But I honestly do think there should be some gatekeeping of community resources like abx, where use where it’s not warranted decreases the efficacy for the entire community. And I’ve heard way too many stories of people demanding abx for viral illnesses to expect that the general public will be informed enough to steward those resources wisely—a small number of people can genuinely ruin it for everybody, including very vulnerable people.

True

Informed

Consent !!!

Guided

Decision-Making

With the Help of a Doctor!

The leading cause of antibiotic overprescription is sloppy, overly 'efficient' work on the part of prescribers. I once went to an urgicare clinic with a months-long bout of laryngitis that I knew for a fact was caused by teaching 8 hours per day, not by a bacterial infection, yet the nurse practicioner prescribed me antibiotics anyway.

Because the clinic was trying to maximize profits and it was understaffed and each provider only had about fifteen minutes with each patient, if that. The provider didn't listen to me when I told him there was no way I had a bacterial infection, and he took absolutely no time to inform me about the effects of antibiotics and the massive risks of taking them when you don't need them.

Today, the average patient seeking healthcare is sorely ill informed about just about everything. Doctors disdain them for being self diagnosed on web MD and for seeking out information about their desired medications online, but what other options do they have? It takes weeks if not months to see a doctor sometimes, and they barely stop moving and interrogating you for one second to answer your questions or explain complex concepts to you once you get in their office.

Within this environment, is it any surprise that patients don't stick to their course of antibiotic treatments all the way through, hoard pills, take them for the wrong conditions, and request antibiotics when they don't need them? And considering that antibiotics are among the cheapest medications available, and most patients can't afford alternate treatments for other conditions on their own, is it any surprise they keep requesting these meds?

In order to move forward, we need a true informed consent model of accessing all drugs. Exactly like a dispensary for weed or Mexican-model pharmacy. You report to the pharmacist, explain your condition and what kind of help you are seeking, and an educated, patient, compassionate provider explains to you exactly the effects you can anticipate from the substances you are seeking -- as well as the risks and use cases.

If it were possible for people to access not only antibiotics in this fashion, but also weed, painkillers, tamiflu, and paxlovid, we would not have the scale of antibiotic overprescription and misuse that we see today.

People tend to glance over the "informed" part of the "informed consent" model that I am advancing, and that's really unfortunate. But I think it's understandable, because many of us have never experience actual informed consent basically any time in our lives. Imagine what it would be like to actually have the authority to make good decisions about what goes into your body, with a doctor seeing themselves as a support person for you, rather than an authority over you.

Imagine what it would be like to have a doctor who listens to you, who has time for you, who sits down with you and breaks down complicated topics and trusts you to make your own decisions once you've been educated and given their support.

[terrainofheartfelt]

okay could you do dair 23 or 26

Dair + 23 …in relief.

(there was another request for dair + 26 so that shalt be answered later <3)

(in the meantime, some 5x24 canon divergence as self care <3)

Dan knocks back the shot Serena hands him with a wince. Tequila. Whenever Dan shoots tequila he makes ill-advised choices. Which is why for his birthday two weeks ago, he and Blair drank Manhattans before feeling each other up in the bar bathroom. 

Whiskey goes with Blair, warm but harsh, sweet and sharp, burns down through his chest like being in love. Tequila is dangerous. Tequila is…well…Serena. 

“Okay, okay, time-out,” Dan pleads, making a T with his hands, trying in vain to referee his own life.  

Serena laughs, her smile glinting around a wedge of lime. “Don’t give up on me now, Dan. I never took you for a lightweight.” 

He snorts. “Yeah, well, anyone’s a lightweight when they ingest tequila on an empty stomach.” 

He hasn’t eaten all day. He couldn’t make himself. His stomach has been twisted up in knots ever since those fucking Gossip Girl blasts. He’d stupidly thought that drinking would help, but it’s only made it worse. 

Serena pats his shoulder sympathetically. “There’s food around here somewhere. I’ll flag someone –” 

She lifts her arm, and despite his compromised state, Dan is able to spot the danger. He stumbles backward and pulls Serena with him, out of the way of a passing waiter, narrowly saving the both of them from being doused by an entire bottle of champagne. 

“Whoa,” he brilliantly comments, then reflexively drops his hands from Serena’s arms to his sides, releasing her.  

She only steps closer, looking at him with concern. “You okay?”

He chokes on an hysterical laugh, because no, he is clearly not, and suddenly everything in the party becomes too much. The noise, the people, the terrible music, the lighting, the dense, cloying air of a hundred over perfumed American aristocrats, and is he that drunk or is Serena still extremely close to him?

“Uh – yeah.” He rakes a hand through his hair—it’s so hot in here that he wishes he could chop it off now, or at least have a hair tie on his wrist like Jenny always does. “I just – I need some air.” 

He takes a step back, and Serena immediately follows him. “I’ll come with you.” 

“No, Serena –” he snaps, then catches himself, his stomach does a violent flip. Personal space has never been much of a thing with them, even as friends, but now Dan feels on the precipice of something dangerous. “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna puke. And I know that dress you’re wearing is worth more than my book deal, so –” he waves a vague hand, and turns and walks away before Serena can protest again.   

Dan ends up on the sidewalk in front of Grand Central. Given the spring humidity and all the city smells that come with it, the air outside the Campbell isn’t much better, but at least out here Dan can be alone for a moment. 

He knows she means well, but Serena’s hovering only makes him feel worse, like she’s already decided what choice Blair is going to make. 

Dan supposes if anyone were qualified to weigh in on Blair’s choices, it would be Serena. But no, Blair hasn’t really let Serena know her for a long time now, and maybe Dan is partially to blame for that, but — he’s too drunk to follow this thread right now. 

He leans back against the wall to steady himself. He’s already out here, public transportation hub at his back, it would be pretty easy to make a getaway, spare him the humiliation of waiting around for the rest of the night. 

But, what if?

He tips his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. Too many trains of thought, too much tequila to chase them down. 

“Dan?”

He wrenches his eyes open. No way. 

“Oh thank god,” he mutters, pushing himself off the wall and into Blair’s arms, pouring all the relief he can’t speak into a kiss. 

“Mm – Dan,” she pulls back, but holds her grip on his lapels, keeping him close. She wrinkles her nose, impossibly cute, and he loves her. “You taste like a distillery.” 

He loves her. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tipping his forehead against hers, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” he repeats unevenly, apologizing for more than just the tequila breath. For being drunk now, for serving her that stupid ultimatum, for nearly giving up on his end of it, for saying too much and scaring her off. 

“It’s fine,” Blair says with a long-suffering sigh as she twines her arms around his neck. “I love you anyway.”

Dan gapes at her, dumbstruck. Blair Waldorf has a singular talent of rendering him speechless. “You’re gonna have to tell me that again when I’m sober.”

She giggles and pulls him in to kiss him again, distillery be damned.

[general--winter]

uchiha shisui x reader - not a snowbird

author's note: I PROMISE I'm working on requests, I've just been working a bit more on ventfic one shots in my free time since it's finals and I kinda can't function, especially since I graduate university in two weeks, lol. This fic is greatly inspired by my own experiences with anxiety attacks and mental illness, so it's definitely not a one-size-fits-all type of deal. Hope you all enjoy!

rating: teen

fandom: naruto

pairing: uchiha shisui x gn!reader

word count: 2419

warnings: anxiety attacks, self-doubt/self-loathing, general mental illness descriptions

summary: snowbird - someone who migrates to warmer climates to avoid the winter cold

Sometimes, you can feel the void in your chest.

It burns ice into your heart, into your stomach. You shiver but you aren’t actually cold. It sucks the oxygen out of your lungs and causes you to hyperventilate. Your extremities tremble, every muscle in your body tenses. You try to catch your breath. There was no air to be consumed. You’re drowning in anxiety, the ice seizing control of every nerve in your body and brain, curling through them and freezing you from the inside-out. Your limbs scrunch up and your throat constricts, fighting against your instinct to breathe. At some point, the feeling in your hands and feet has vanished. It’s almost as if your body wants to shut down. That would certainly make sense, considering your inability to form any cohesive thought. Primitive thought was all you were capable of. Basic survival instincts. But even those are pushing to their max; seeing as your heart rate has skyrocketed and you’re heaving for breath faster than if you’d just ran a mile. Even though quite literally nothing had happened to make your fight-or-flight instincts surface.

Yeah. Anxiety attacks were fun. Especially when you had to hide them from your  house party guests. When they're the presumed cause.

You pulled yourself into a ball, trying to drain any heat you could from the wool blanket you kept in the bathroom for this very purpose. All you were able to do was drench it in your chills-induced sweat. And the tile floor pressed against your cheek was certainly not doing you any favors.

All the while, your thoughts raced. There were so, so many people around. All asking you about every minute detail about your life. Teasing you about your worst insecurities, prodding at topics that made you freeze up. It was too much at once. Everyone here was just a reminder of your past failures. Asking you why you never moved away from home, what happened to the rebellious nature you used to flaunt, why you were so compliant with the life path you always denounced—

From tailbone to skull, a violent, spasming shiver wracked your body. Where did all of your body heat go during times like these, you wondered? Did the cool floor drain it away? Or was your body leeching every ounce of warmth into the air to further torture you? There simply was no answer now, though you rationally knew it was just a sensation. A trick of the body and mind.

This situation sucked. And you had to reel it in before the partygoers got suspicious of their host’s absence. The music and chatter of your family and friends taunted you from outside, morphing into a muffled rumble as they entered your perception. Were you underwater? Your lungs might as well be filling with water rather than air. There was no relief from your stressed breathing.

It was a failure. Just like everything else in your life. Like how you couldn't do what you promised at seventeen, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the doors of your university. Sure, you had graduated, but now what? You’re back in your hometown, right where you said you would never go again. Now your body’s natural instincts were betraying you, were kicked into overdrive. Making you a panicked mess on the floor of your new apartment’s bathroom. It was pathetic, you thought.

Knock, knock, knock!

The clear, rapt knocks of the wooden door pierced your eardrums through the haze of noise beyond, causing you to jump in place, clutching ever stronger to anything you could use to ground yourself, to physically keep yourself from sinking. Who came to your bathroom? The party was in another part of the apartment with a half-bath nearby. No one even knew where this one was, nor did they have any reason to come all the way here. It was your safe space. A defensive cove no one would find while you were breaking down. Honestly, you were shocked you had half a mind to stumble in here however long ago you started to panic. A few minutes? An hour? What time was it, anyway?

“Hey, is everything alright in there?” a voice gently spoke from the other side. Who had come here to laugh at your misery? Your senses were so overwhelmed that you barely registered the identity of the voice.

You couldn’t, didn't want to muster a response to this mystery person. They were surely someone you knew, and out of the twenty-or-so people at your place right now, there was only one you think you could eventually be okay with finding you here.

And, well, to your (mis)fortune, that exact person picked the lock of the bathroom effortlessly and nudged the door open. It made sense, after all. He was the only person who could ever tell when you left the room; it seemed that sometimes you were invisible to everyone but him. Your sunken-in, puffed eyes met his near-black ones above, sparkling and wide with concern. Half-delirious, you weren’t sure if he was an angel coming down from above to save you or a devil stalking over its prey.

“Oh, sweetie,” he sighed, coming to kneel down in front of you after quietly closing the door. The closer he got, the faster your breath rushed through your lungs. When he got too close, you were sure he could feel the arctic rush of air settled around your cocoon.

“Shisui… help,” you managed in a herculean effort.

“Do I help by staying or leaving?” he whispered, still crouched.

“Staying,” you forced out, reaching for his hand like you were about to tumble down a sheer cliff.

“Physical touch is okay?” he checked.

“Yes… No more talking for now… please.” The voice croaking those words was almost foreign. 

With a nod, Shisui scooped you up, blanket and all. He was so, so warm. Like you were laid atop a furnace. You sucked every ounce of heat from his body while he silently took you to your bed. His breathing obviously deepened and took on a steady rhythm. Was he trying to get you to match?

Shisui placed you gingerly under your comforter, pulling away the emergency blanket from your shoulders. In an instant he'd worked his way around to the other side of the bed and slipped under to grasp your halfway-catatonic body, folded instantly into a cocoon, in a warm embrace.

There was something about the way Shisui cuddled you, especially at times like these. While you were in that fetal position with your eyes clamped shut, trying to catch your breath at his pace like you ran a marathon, the pressure of his arms and body on you breathed life back into your icy limbs. Sensations in your fingers and toes returned, first to static and then to the gentle rubbing of Shisui's dress shirt and pants.

And when his hand stroked your head in just the right way, Shisui was blown back by the force of your reciprocated hug. He let out a gentle chuckle and continued to calm you. One of Shisui's arms was anchored around your shoulders, making sure you were tethered to reality, to your bed. His free hand traced gentle, random patterns on the plane of your clothed back. A long time ago, you'd told him that it was one of the most relaxing things someone could do to you. Ever since, it has been Shisui's go-to in these situations.

Your face dug into his chest, the scent of cologne overtaking your senses. The familiarity of it all smashed the breaks on your heartbeat and your body’s functions started to finally decelerate. Shisui was a very soft person to lay on. He was a lot more fit than you, but there was still some squish to his body. It filled out his figure aesthetically, but what mattered more to you was that it made him so much more comfortable to cuddle.

However, you suddenly became self-aware of how much your grasping hands must have been messing up his shirt and wrinkling the entire backside. Oh great, and you were starting to cry on his chest, making it all soggy. What if Shisui wanted to get back to having fun with everyone? If you remembered correctly, he was in an animated conversation with your dad about something. Weren’t you holding him back from doing what he wanted? And… did you even deserve to be comforted after abandoning your guests?

Swiftly, you let go of Shisui and tried to turn your back to him to make him let go. That, infuriatingly, did nothing to sway his grasp on your body, although now he was quite confused. His brows knitted together and his soft gaze was fixated on you. Only you.

I don’t even think I deserve to be comforted, you spiraled. I’m ripping Shisui away from his fun time and letting everyone else down just because I’m too pathetic to put up with some silly questions.

“You can go back,” you breathed out onto his shirt after trying in vain once again to worm your way from his arms and cocoon once again into your bed. “I don’t want to keep you. And I should go back soon, too.”

“Hey, you little dumpling,” gently teased Shisui, the soft lilt of his voice drawing a sob closer to your throat. You felt one of his rough hands run atop your head again. “I’m here for you, you've gotta get better. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You opened your eyes and looked upwards, facing his tender expression. Normally, your heart would waver, but right now you were too caught up in your own self-loathing and panic to even think about that.

“But we really should get back to the party. I don’t want to hold you back from everyone,” you whispered. “I’ve already messed up your shirt too. It’s not presentable anymore. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry.” A firm, but loving tone accompanied these words. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. I know this can happen to you. I’m sorry that this is something you experience.”

Shisui shifted to sit up with a creak of the bed, dragging your head to lay on his soft lap. Your gaze focused up his body to look at him. One cheek was pressed against his body, the other caressed by his hand, gently wiping away the mist of tears on your lashes.

“If I could take on all of the hurt, all of the anxiety you experience, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can’t. So the second best thing I can do is be here while you do.”

“But I’m wasting your time,” you whimpered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. With me.”

“Hey. No,” Shisui gently scolded, bringing his palm to stroke your one upturned cheek. You hesitantly met his intense gaze, focusing more on his eyelashes than his pupils. “When I said I wanted to be your boyfriend all that time ago, I meant it. And that means I’m your partner. During the ups and downs, during times of suffering and joy. I’m not a snowbird, I’m here for all of it. I chose to be with all of you. And this is included. So I will dedicate myself to you fully.” He smirked. "That's just the kind of guy I am, yeah?"

You let out a little snort, his speech breaking through the final layer of ice surrounding your heart. “That kind of sounded like wedding vows.”

A red-hot blush spread across Shisui’s face, and his once-intense eyes now shied away. He muttered while shoving his face slightly into your pillow, but you were able to catch what he said:

“Maybe I should write that down so I can say it again one day.”

A ghost of a smile graced your lips. Once again, you wrapped your arms around Shisui’s waist, now enjoying the rise and fall of his breath. The periodic motion and slight whistle of his nose slowed your beating heart while finally and successfully matching your breaths to his. No longer was ice pumping through your veins, but real, genuine blood that breathed life into your body once more.

You allow the sensation of being present in the moment to wash over you a bit more. In this time, you shift yourself back up into a sitting position to nuzzle into Shisui's shoulder, his arm draping over you once more and one hand reaching out to pinch your nose shut.

"If you don't mind me asking," he spoke with care, "what's got you so worked up? I've gathered that you feel guilty for keeping me and for leaving the party, but—"

You cut him off in a nasally voice. "I was just super overwhelmed by everyone asking me questions that shamed me. It wasn’t on purpose, I don’t think. They're all done by now, it was at the beginning of the party, but it was just really digging under my skin."

"Okay," Shisui replied with a snicker, letting go of your nose. "It’s over, then. You’ve got it out of your system. There’s no need to feel guilty, either. You were feeling unwell, so you left. I’m pretty proud of you for that. Maybe we can work up to leaving before an attack starts. You know, set some boundaries.”

“Yeah, I can talk to my therapist about it,” you replied. “I still feel a little guilty about everything, but… thank you for being here for me.”

“Of course. Anything for you, alright? Are you up to going back?”

“I think I spent all of my energy,”  you said, volume barely above a whisper. “I don't think I’ll be able to get out of this bed no matter how hard I try.”

“The party’s been winding down anyway. I’ll get rid of everyone for you, yeah?”

Shisui slipped out of the bed in one fluid motion, leaving a pool of warmth behind. Your head hit the backboard and your eyes slid closed, soaking in the presence that Shisui left behind as he took care of wrapping up your get-together. He was always so kind and understanding with you. It made your heart race in a different, more pleasing fashion. No matter what, he always made sure you knew you were supported by him. And, well, no matter how hard your brain tried to fight, you knew Shisui would always be there to grapple back until you learned how.

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

Ooo hiii what about teen!reader who refuses to cry Infront of people who randomly either just bursts into tears or someone notices that they have tears in their eyes. If possible with Luke Alvez or Matt Simmons cause I do t think there's enough content for them 😅

Luke Alvez X Teen Reader

Request: what about teen!reader who refuses to cry Infront of people who randomly either just bursts into tears or someone notices that they have tears in their eyes. If possible with Luke Alvez or Matt Simmons cause I do t think there's enough content for them

so sorry for not updating for ages its been busy getting ready to back to collage, i start next week so i wont be able to update as much as i want anymore but i will update when i can!

Third person pov...

15 year old Y/N L/N watch as detectives and forensics walk in and out the door of their crime scene ridden house, only hours before the teen was surrounded by their family hzppy and smiling, now nothing but a mask as they sit covered in blood.

The detectives have tried many times to get the teen to move, get cleaned up and checked over but have long given up they weren’t going to leave their house, the detectives knew that now.

The 15 year old sits on the sofa where he hadn’t moved since it happened tears threatening to fall but they didn’t let them they wouldn’t cry.

Flashback…

The L/N house was filled with laughter as they all sat in the living room laughing at the game show they all sat down to watch, it was the chase as usual they all worked to answer the questions right.

Even the usually quiet Y/N was yelling out answers if they knew it. Suddenly their laughter was cut short when a knock sounded on the door, for the past couple weeks the whole town has been on lock down.

There was a suspected serial killer on the loose killing happy families but only leaving one witness not just alive but traumatised. So Y/Ns dad took a gun with him as he when to open the door.

The rest of the family went back to the game show, minutes pass and Y/Ns dad still hadn’t returned. The teen stood from their seat “im going to see what dad is doing” they say making their way through the living room.

Once the teen was in the hallway they turned towards the door where their dad was, the teen eyes widened they saw a strange man dressed in black pointing a gun at their dads head.

10 minutes later Y/N and their family were tied up by the unsub who was finishing tying up Y/Ns younger brother. “its going to be okay Y/B/N” whispers the teen, the 10 year old looks at his sibling and nods.

Hours later the Unsub had killed each and everyone of Y/Ns family, only the teen was left surrounded by the bodies of their family, they refused to cry which made the unsub angry.

The man had hit and kicked Y/N trying to get a reaction out of them but the teen wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. “this is no fun now come on cry even a little you robot!” yells the unsub smashing a nearby vase but Y/N stayed stoic they would survive.

They had too, their locked with his little brothers cold dead ones, he had too this bastard had to pay for killing their family.

As the teen continues to stare down the unsub who smirked and took out his gun and pointed it the teen head, Y/Ns eyes widened slightly and held his shaking hands tightly, the gun was still pointed at their head, the unsub pulled the safety but the shot never came.

A knock came from the door, Y/N sighs softly saved by a neighbour, the unsub tsk and puts the gun away, he glares at the door but turns to the back door and leaves Y/N alone. “ill be back for you ill make you cry” he promises Y/N hears the door shut and begin frantically trying to get loose.

Instead they begin shouting for help.

End of flashback…

Suddenly the teen was back in their house still surrounded by officers the bodies long been taken away the blood was cleaned away but the scene wasn’t disturbed. The sheriff was one the officers there he was a close friend of the L/N family.

Soon two black SUVs arrive and out comes 6 people three woman and 3 men all had sunglasses on. The sheriff walks over to them “you must be the BAU, thank you for coming im really out of my league here, this is the L/N house the most react victims” he explained, “im SSA Emily Prentiss, these are Agents Lewis, Alvez, Jareau, Rossi and Dr Reid” says Emily.

The team are then shown to the crime scene

But they were met with something completely unexpected. A teen, no more than 15 years old, sat in the living room surrounded by crime scene detectives, and although tears were notoriously difficult to stop, they refused to cry in front of anyone, instead forcing their face into a stoic mask.

Luke Alves looked at the traumatized teen, who had been a victim to the Unsub. Only their entire family had perished, but yet still the teen refused to cry. Luke did his best to stay professional, but the sight of such a brave and resilient young person in the face of such heartbreaking tragedy made Luke's heart heavy. He slowly approached the teen, sitting beside them on the sofa and introducing himself. The teen still refused to speak, yet Luke patiently waited, giving the teen time to process their emotions and build up the courage to talk. After several awkward moments, the teen finally opened up, telling Luke their heartbreaking story. The teen went on to tell Luke how the Unsub had taken away their family one by one, with the teen being the only one who managed to escape. As the teen began to become overwhelmed again, Luke simply placed a comforting hand on their shoulder and tried his best to remain as non-judgemental as possible.

It was clear to Luke that the teen had experienced enough harsh judgement and criticism in their life already, and so he simply listened and gave the teen the time and space they needed to express themselves. The conversation became a bit easier for the teen as they moved on to talk about their hobbies and dreams for the future. It was the first time Luke had seen the teen show any emotion other than sadness and grief in the wake of their family’s death. It was through Luke's gentle encouragement and compassion that the teen was finally able to begin the healing process. By the end of the conversation, the teen was even showing small signs of smiling and laughing.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot for Luke sorry for the wait. Sorry for the grammar and spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

word count: 1150