#it just suddenly occurred to me that i am making a life long dream come true

[tashi-kitsune]

OMG I have 3 weeks until graduation! I can't even believe it. It's been a long 3 years. But gonna graduate with an associates in applied science and be able to take the Vet Tech National Exam.

[star-xxx1]

I read it is is a dark blog and I am in love with dark stuff. If it is okay, I would love to request Dark! Agatha and reader based in this concept ‘For Agatha, you are the love of her life. For you, she was the person who kidnapped you’

Can I be 🦖 anon?

Lucid Dreams

Dark! Agatha harkness x fem! reader

Warnings: Manipulation, magic use, being held against will? fingering, clit simulation, nicknames, abit of praise kink.

A/n: She's abit dark? I switched round the concept, abit i hope you don't mind, sorry this took so long for me to reply <3 and yeah ofc you can be 🦖 anon!

You lie next to your wife, tossing and turning, unable to shake the feeling that something is not quite right. The silence of the night weighs heavily on you, and your thoughts race through your mind, searching for answers to the uneasiness that is gnawing at you. You turn and shift, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing seems to help. Every little noise or rustle sends your heart thumping, and you feel yourself growing more and more anxious with each passing moment. You try to convince yourself that everything is alright, that you're just being overly sensitive, but the feeling of unease persists. Finally, you give up, and get up, making your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water, hoping that the change in scenery might help calm your nerves. You sip the water, trying to focus your thoughts, but still, the nagging feeling remains. Finally, you decide to go back to bed, hoping that sleep will help you shake off the feeling, but as you walk back to the bedroom, a thought occurs to you: what if this feeling is an omen, a warning of some sort, something that you cannot ignore? You pause for a moment, considering the possibility, before eventually dismissing the thought, telling yourself that you're just being overly dramatic and that there's nothing to worry about. Despite your efforts to reassure yourself, however, the sense of unease persists, haunting you even as you drift into a fitful sleep, your dreams overshadowed by the feeling that something is amiss.

You dream that you are lying asleep, completely paralyzed, and unable to move. Suddenly, you find yourself standing in a vast expanse of darkness, the only light coming from a glowing beacon above you. As you stare at the beacon, a godly figure begins to emerge, a shadowy silhouette slowly taking form. As the figure draws closer, you recognize it as yourself, only older, and wiser, and more powerful.

"Greetings, my friend," the older you said, her voice strong and commanding but calming, smooth like silk. "You have been chosen to receive guidance from one of the many versions of yourself in the multiverse. Listen well, my friend, as what I have to tell you is of the utmost importance."

With a snap of her fingers, the darkness dissipates, and you find yourself in a spacious library, filled with books and scrolls and all manner of knowledge, however you can't move. The older you educated you about the knowledge and history of the multiverse, the words spilling from her plump lips like a waterfall.

"What you seek is on the very fringes of the multiverse, beyond what you can comprehend," says the older you. "Agatha, the woman you love, has evil intentions. For Agatha you are the love of her life, but also her captive, For you she is also the love of your life but also your kidnaper. You have been blined by a powerful spell."

"She seeks to harness the power of the multiverse for her own ends, to take control and Manipulate everything to her liking, wherever you go you won't find the hex walls because you're constantly in it. She will stop at nothing to achieve her goal. You must stop her, my friend, before she brings about the end of all freedom."

And with that, the elder you disappear, leaving you standing alone in the library, the weight of her words weighing heavily on your shoulders.

You wake up, your heart pounding, your mind racing. The dream feels so real, so vivid, that you wonder if it could have been more than just a dream. And then you remember Agatha, your wife, lying peaceful and beautiful next to you, and you wonder if this is just another manifestation of your endless anxiety, or if there is something deeper and more sinister at play.

Your breath escape your mouth shallow and panicked, Aggie starts to stir eventually she turns to look at you, a swish of the hand turning on the bedside lamp. Her face is filled with concern, and you try to speak, to tell her about the visions you've just experienced, but the words catch in your throat, and you find yourself gasping for air. "What's wrong, my love?" Agatha asks, her voice filled with worry. You struggle to form the words, the dream still fresh in your mind, and finally, you manage to choke out, "Agatha, I had the strangest dream. It was like I was in a different universe, and a version of myself was telling me that you had evil intentions and you kidnapped me and you were manipulating me. And I couldn't move, Agatha, I was frozen." You rush out. Agatha's face falls, her expression becoming grim as she listens to your words. Finally, she speaks, her voice full of seriousness.

"That's just a stupid dream." She says abruptly and coldly. You stare at her, not knowing how to respond. Her face softens, and she pulls your distressed form into her, holding you tight. "Sorry baby, I just - you know my past with magic." She looked down at you with loving eyes. She placed a warm kiss on your forehead. Agatha can still tell that you're unsettled.

You felt Agatha's soft fingertips rest on your forehead, and immediately, a strange sensation washed over you. You felt tired and heavy, and before you knew it, your vision was filled with a swirling tunnel of purple light. The light got brighter and brighter until your eyes shut tightly, and you fell into a deep sleep. When you woke up, you felt disoriented and confused. You glanced at the clock and saw that it was now 2:00am. "Aggie, why am I up so late?" you asked, rubbing your eyes.

Agatha eyes were fixed on you. She looked concerned, but she also had a strange aura about her, as if she was hiding something from you. You looked at her, confused and conflicted. You trusted Agatha implicitly, and you knew that she would never do anything to hurt you.

You lay back down, still feeling dazed and confused. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing, hoping that sleep would come soon. But you couldn't.

"Aggie, I can't sleep." You whispered out.

"Let me help you, baby." She whispered into your ear, nibbling away at it.

The witches hand trailed down your stomach and into your panties. She kissed lovingly away at your neck as you squirmed at the electric touch. Her fingers find your sensitive clit slowly teasing the tender peral, her fingers gentle but insistent. You arch your back and cry out in pleasure.

"Shit." You gasped. She chuckled against your neck, her mouth working on the tender flesh, leaving deep red marks in the wake.

"Come on, doll, make those pretty like noise for me." Agatha's fingers rub harder against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as she feels you getting closer. "That's it, baby." Your moans now tumbled from your lips. Her fingers danced over the sensitive nub, teasing and taunting you. She leans in closer, her body flush against yours as she continues to torment your needy flesh, moving faster, driving you closer to the edge. Her free hand finds its way between your legs, sliding two fingers deep inside you, stretching you further as she teases your clit. Your body tenses and shudders under Agatha's ministrations as she brings you to climax. she can't help but revel in the power she holds over you.

Cumming hard, your pussy pulsing around Agatha's fingers as your juices coat her hand in a warm, sticky mess. Your body shook aggressively with pleasure, calling out her name as she helped you ride out your high. Her hands remereged from your panties. Licking them clean, moaning at the delightful tase of your essence. Gently stroking your hair, her eyes looked at you filled with affection and desire. She moved your limp body against her, your face pushed into her breasts, your favourite place, and wrapped her arms tightly around you.

"You did so well." She praised, kissing your lips in the most sweet, gentle manner and you smiled to yourself, eyelids falling heavy. You soon fell asleep in the arms of your lover, secure and happy. And as you do, Agatha's mind races with thoughts of betrayal. She feels no guilt or remorse for what she has done

Stripping you of your agency and replacing your memories with a false reality. She doesn't care about the ethics or morality of her actions, only the result: to keep you safe and by her side, no matter what. In the darkness of the night, Agatha's face is filled not with joy but with a twisted sense of determination. She is willing to cross any line, to do whatever it takes, to keep you by her side. You are hers, now and always, and she will do anything to keep you from leaving. Whatever was in that 'dream' was a threat to this false world, and she was going to find it and destroy it. What can she say? Wanda did teach her well about the mutliverse.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Hellu,

your recent post about Obi quittting the Order and becoming a senator on coruscant made feel some type of way and now I’d like to request a one-shot of Obi leaving the Order, becoming a successfull senator on coruscant and being in love with fem!reader. I dont care how you put her into the mix but I kinda imagine her as a senator as well and maybe they fell in love after he left the order and they met at a convention or something like this.

Oh and I adore your writings and am a huge fan of “conquered”-it’s awesome.

I received another request for Senator Obiwan haha and so I had to do it justice.

Hope you like it!

Word count: 2600

---

The Coruscant Spectacle

“Does he know?”, The reporter asked. You grew silent, it was easier to answer the other questions in this interrogation and make peace with the irony because of how it had all begun.

You wanted to make chief editor of the Coruscant times but you needed a story that would shatter the masses. As a woman, being caged with the daily columns of keeping the public enlightened about fashion trends made all this feel like an unattainable dream. It was, until you heard the news of his resignation. A Jedi abandoning the order and making it known to the public was, well the most scandalous thing to occur. Only that no one knew why? And as the rain engulfed you in it’s cold wrath, you knew you had found the perfect pawn for your game.

“That I love him?”, you asked softly.

“That you did not leak the article to the press.”, he corrected you. This metal room felt lonely and the hurt in your heart only caused more pain as you sat there, dejected. You had hurt the most innocent man, the man you loved, all for nothing.

“Oh that.”, you sniffed, tears where almost brimming.

“No.”, you said, suddenly having enough of all this.

“Is that all? I have a transport to catch.”, you furrowed your brows and it would seem that even the reporter pitied you. He had once been your colleague but now you were just another coruscant spectacle.

“That is all.”, he let you go and you left grabbing your things. This planet had burned you through.

---

It begun when you had disguised yourself as a lowly administrator looking to affiliate yourself with a senator, more precisely to become a part of his office. And so you did, working up the ranks, collecting pieces of information, living a dual life and it was all going well until Obiwan asked you to accompany him to a dinner with the press. He was going to make his debut at the Senate so the press wanted to know his thoughts and why he would be able to make a change.

“Why me?”, you had asked him as you matched his steps. A question out of your own curiosity when he stopped to look at you, a smile on his lips.

He took a moment to regard you. “I like your eyes, they never lie. You speak the truth and today I need it.”, he explained. His words, that moment, soon became the chink in your armour.

You stood by the sidelines, when he took to the podium to answer questions that had long been in the public’s mind, questions that had often plagued you having come to know how he truly was like. Kind and generous and compassionate. He didn’t deserve the backlash and yet he was standing here.

The Journalists began to plague him with questions that he answered patiently.

Why did you leave the order?

"I am a man who takes purpose from being of service and in many occasions I was not allowed to aid those that needed help when I was a part of the council. But I also did it for love and I will not elaborate on that."

Do you still keep to your Jedi ways, even though you live opulently as a senator?

"I do. Although now I have given myself the permission to enjoy certain comforts without the guilt. Most of what I earn is given back to the people or to fund my policies, so opulent wouldn’t be the term I would use."

How are you feeling for tonight?

He looked at the crowd when slowly he said.

"I would like my public relations manager to answer that. Most of what you see me as is all her work of art and she is the person I trust most."

The pang in your gut was too real, so real that you could feel your mind blank as you walked up to him amidst the flashing camera lights.

His smile, his hand on the small of your back ever so slightly caressing your exposed skin, his eyes looking into yours with utmost belief while you …

You cleared your throat and smiled to the expectant crowd. But as you were collecting your thoughts, he leaned in close, almost as if he was about to hug you, his lips touched the edge of your ear, “Tell me you believe in me.”, he whispered and you knew this day was all that you were going to remember your whole life because the months spent working beside him and with him had caused you to fall in love with him. You had abandoned the article, you had begun to live this life, all because of him.

“I haven’t crafted an image for him. He doesn’t live a dual life. What you see is exactly who he is. His love for the people and for justice is so pure you cannot help but choose his side. I believe in him and that tonight will sediment his victory in the Senate. I only used this position to get you all to see him, like I do.”, somewhere in between that you had turned to him as you spoke those words. His eyes beamed and with his golden hair he looked radiant.

Could he too feel the depth of your feelings?

The truth that sunk in was that the fraud in all this was you. So the moment you spoke the truth, you stepped away from him and left.

Months had passed and it grew exceedingly difficult to continue in this position, to work closely with him because that meant you had to see him and talk to him and notice his longing eyes and soft touches or his gentle voice asking you time and time again to join him for dinner. But you just couldn’t. You could not break his heart or take his story and run it to the ground. His fame and acclaim only grew, making it clear that you were not the woman for him. He deserved so much more.

But the day you had finished the article was also the day his bill for the clone troopers to have their only health cover and the ability to work after their service as soldiers was passed causing for a celebration. Just when you were about to escape he had somehow found you, taking your hand in his, he slipped away from his own party to his opulent suite.

“Obiwan, you should with our there, celebrating.”, you told him as he closed the door behind him. He looked rather frustrated as he walked away further. His blue shirt matched the colour of his eyes as it stretched and moved in alignment with his muscles on his back. He popped the top few buttons and rolled back his sleeves.

“Something’s wrong and you will not tell me.”, he cut straight to it. He was a negotiator, there was nothing that escaped his grasp.

His hair was set in place but as he ran his finger through it in an urgency, he looked even more distraught.

“Your campaign is a success.”, you put forth the truth to which he shook his head.

“No. Not the campaign. Us.”, he looked you in the eye as he said and the realization that there was no more room to hide became apparent.

“I didn’t know we were an item.”, you looked away.

“Don’t change the subject. That day, the press event. Why did you run?”, he drew closer but you moved away to the large living room that had an incredibly long sofa set and a warm fire.

“I had other things to attend to.”, you lied as you took a seat.

He sat next to you with enough space between you both for your pinky fingers to touch and the moment it did, it felt electric.

“I still know the ways of the Force.”, he turned to you.

“I know when you lie to me.”, he said softly.

“Obiwan.”, you whisper as a way to think of an escape but all you felt was his hand covering yours, not letting you go.

“Tell me the truth.”, he said with a noble authority.

“Everything I said then was true.”, you gave in, your heart hammering within your chest.

“Then why did you run?”, he asked again, leaning closer.

“Because I was scared.”, you said quietly and he stilled.

“Of my love for you.”, you admitted when his lips parted in the softest gasp.

“But you deserve someone better.”, you got up and he groaned.

“You deserve so much more.”, you took a step back and he glared at you.

“Don’t you think about it.”, he warned.

You picked up your pace.

“Stop running away.”, he demanded as you ran down the hallway, you didn’t have to look back to know he was chasing after you. To your surprise his droid blocked the door and so your eyes searched for any other possible exits. Having found nothing else, you  ran into the colonnade that led to his garden.

“How is it that after everything, you cannot seem to understand that I have fallen for you?”, he asked catching his breath, searching for you.

You couldn’t believe it, that all this you were feeling was mutual.

“You cannot lie to me.”, he voice grew closer.

“I can hear it in the change of your heartbeat. The soft warmth of your admiration or the truth in your words. I know you feel the same. So why do you put me through this agony?”, he demanded and you couldn’t tell him the reason. It would only hurt him.

“I do not want to hurt you, Obiwan. Can you not understand?”, you ask, growing anxious that he was going to spot you and just when you moved to run further, his hand looped around your waist pinning you to his chest. You could feel his solid form behind you as he breathed in deeply with his nose resting on the length of your neck, finally at peace that he had found you and you too had given up being out of breath.

“I lost my past love because my order failed to save her. I chose to be a senator only because I could not cage my heart again. I wanted to appreciate the relationships I had in my life. I wanted to be a brother to Anakin and not his master. I couldn’t let the council accuse Ahsoka falsely. I wanted a life where I would not be condemned for those actions. And by doing so I had fallen in love again. With you. Now you deny me of it.”, his breath was hot against your skin as he embraced you.

“I do not wish to deny you of it.”, you turned to him, your face construed in pain. Because you loved him, oh how wrong he had been to believe that you were keeping it away from him.

He looked down at you, in the moonlight, his skin glimmered and he looked magnificent, like he was actually a ruler of the glistening night. You gave into the beauty of the moment and thoughts that were resounding loudly in your mind. You touched his cheek first, your thumb grazed the top of his lip and you were certain he had held his breath.

“Trust me with the keys to your heart.”, he whispered and that was all it took for you to throw open the doors of your heart to him. His hands pulled you closer as his lips found yours and for a moment that felt like a lifetime everything in the universe was right. Your back touched the column as his hand slipped under your jaw to tilt your face up to him, to kiss you till he was breathless, till you forgot about the article.

You were going to delete it, right after this, it was going to be erased. But his comms pinged and he stepped away from you. His hair a mess, his cheeks flushed and his eyes alive like the sea. His face was glowing from all the happiness and you felt the same way too.

He looked at the message and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Is something the matter?”, you asked to which he turned his soft gaze back to you.

“Nothing. My presence has been requested to look at a possible leak.”, he responded.

“Do you want me to accompany you?”, you asked to which he smiled.

“No. Stay the night.”, he grinned as he kissed your forehead as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Come back soon.”, you mumbled into his chest.

He grumbled as though he didn’t want to leave so instead he placed a quick peck on your lips.

“It won’t take long.”, he said as he ran down the hallway, while you chuckled watching his retreating form. But you didn’t know that was the moment your whole world was about to be shattered.

Because when he returned, he wasn’t smiling and instead armed guards had come to take you away. Someone had leaked your article and the last thing you saw was him, seated alone on the couch, heartbroken as you were being taken away.

---

Now you were here, in the long line for a transport ship to the outer rim and a few other neutral planets. With only a small bag in your hand, you were ready to say goodbye to this wretched planet and it’s politics. The only longing in your heart was to tell him you were truly sorry and that all your love was in fact very real.

“You were his secretary weren’t you?”, some droid asked that stood behind you.

“The one that wrote this article.”, it continued but you didn’t pay it any heed.

“Leave the lady alone.”, said another voice and you were grateful for it.

“But why are you running away?”, the droid pressed further to ask and it had annoyed you. You turn to confront it.

“I am not running away. I love him too much to linger and see the pain I had caused.”, you jab your finger on its chest only to see it was a man wearing a robe, his head under a hood. But the shape of his lips and the small grin was enough to know who he was.

“What are you doing here, Obiwan?”, you whispered.

“Stopping you from leaving.”, he took your bag from your hands.

“Why?”, you stood in shock.

“I read it. The article. If it was a love letter that you wanted to publish all do was to just tell me.”, he chuckled.

“I don’t understand. You were heartbroken that night. I had caused pain once again in your life.”, you argued to which he shook his head softly and cupped your cheek.

“No I was sad that this system too did not let me protect the woman I loved.”, he drew you closer and stepped out of the line, you followed him.

“The senate wanted an investigation and I had to put you through it. I was there for all your briefings. I heard all your answers and never once did you say you did it to hurt me.”, he explained and your eyes grew wide taking in all this information.

“I believe you.”, he said finally and all you could do was hug him and let the tears fall.

“Now.”, he wrapped his arms around you.

“Don’t run off.”, he tilted your chin so he could see your face. The tear stains where fresh down your cheek, so he wiped them away.

“Never.”, you responded.

The headlines could say whatever it wanted to say. But the truth was right here, in the moment, as he held you close and took you home.

[cryptid-writing]

[Diary of Acedia]

Warnings: There's no need for warnings. Except slight mention of murder.

Info: Just a little something I wrote for my spidersona. It's kinda like a look into myself, but through the lens of Acedia.

It's not much, but I like it.

-----

There is a term within Japan for what I am. Or at least what I feel I relate to in some way, to some degree. 'Hikikomori.' I’ve never gone to the same extremes as ‘true’ hikikomori go through. Literally shutting themselves up in their rooms, their apartments, living in filth and letting themselves go to waste. I could never bring myself to reach that. That part.. disgusts and frightens me. Yet, I can still relate. I make the efforts to tend to myself as much as I can. I’ve dealt with depression, anxiety, and can feel my mental health deteriorate if I neglect myself for one day too many.

It’s a horrible feeling.

Life is.. terrifying. I would like for my life to change.. but I know it never will. Maybe.. just maybe.. little by little.. I could reach that dream of mine.. to find a better life. One that would require me to change out of myself. My true self.

And that's not something I want.

There's fantasies, daydreams of one wishing to be someone they are not, the polar opposite of who they are. Sometimes I may think of that for myself, but it never feels right.

It never felt like I was imagining myself.

..I decided to move. Around 24 I made the decision. Around 26 I made it. Flying to New York to meet with a friend who started work there. I found an apartment and started to live there. Over time I slowly decorated the place with things I found and bought with what money I've saved up from what I earned from the job I was lucky to find for myself. Something quiet and with little interaction with others.

I was never good and never have been good when it comes to socializing. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells.. I feel alien among my own kind. Among the couple of friends I have, that I am lucky to have. Finding a sort of peace in solitude away from society.. it is unbearably lonely, however. I.. I want company. At least one other person to share this life of mine with.. someone to keep me company.. The company of another is genuinely.. comforting.

A year and a half go by.. and something happened.

Something.. changed.

Suddenly.. I found myself gifted. Able to perform acts I had fantasized about since I was little, thinking it would be cool or fun if I could walk on walls or crawl on ceilings. Without knowing what had occurred I likened my abilities to that of a sloth. An animal I liked the most.. I have a small collection of sloth things. They make me happy. They’re cute and friendly looking.. Just how I wish to be.

The weather grew colder.. I wore that outfit a bit more to stay warm.. Little did I know I’d unintentionally wind up being a hero in a way. Stopping some petty crime.. I had to find a mask or two to hide my face for a couple of weeks. I don't really know how most heroes do it. I felt silly, to be honest.

About a month later I found a man barely still alive. I was so afraid and so nervous. I rushed him to get help.. and I couldn’t help but check in on him. I worried so much. I.. didn’t meet in person with him, though. It wasn’t until a month later that we made a proper encounter.. after he nearly tried to kill his boss and then me. He apologized and thanked me for snapping him out of it. He introduced himself as Otto Octavius and I, Acedia, in return.

As further thanks, he later on helped to develop a proper outfit for me. I tried to decline, but he insisted.. I really appreciate it. The costume and his help. He aided me in my efforts to help others, starting when his business partner tried again to murder his boss then me for interfering. I hadn’t known at the time how horrible Otto’s boss was.

Not too long after, I and Otto’s friend, Adrian, had reconciled.. I think of him like a grandfather to me now. He’s done so much for me to make up for what he had done. I never really knew how much my life would change, although I still feel, even today, as though it hadn’t really changed at all.

In the following months so so much happened. I.. I was able to help so many people.. Maybe not entirely to have helped prevent what happened to them, but I was still able to help them in some way and that’s really all I could ask for. I even made some new friends.. Sure we may fight sometimes, but usually it works out. And even some friends who weren’t from here.. That was a wild experience.

Heck, I even met someone who would end up being my second partner, Quentin Beck. He seemed to really hate me at first.. I remember having a horrible experience chasing him in a warehouse.. It was such a terrifying experience, yet.. he, for some reason, helped me out of there.. After some time, he showed to really like me. I’m really thankful I met him, even if we didn’t have very good encounters at first. He’s been so wonderful. Him and Otto.. I’ve.. I really can’t believe I am in such a place in my life to be blessed with two incredible men.. without them I have no idea where I would be today.

..More months passed and I managed to help take down Norman Osborn.. Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin.. and that leads me to where I currently stand today. Writing this.

I’ve been through so much, I’m in a far happier place. I’ve made so many mistakes along the way, so many stupid, stupid mistakes, but I’ve learned a lot, too. I’ve.. also grown a lot. Not in height, but as a person. I’m still myself, though. Still afraid of social interaction, still afraid to open up and let myself be really known, still shy and unable to really speak up for myself.. but I’ve grown, nonetheless.

I couldn’t be happier and more thankful to be alive and to be where I am today. Although it’s still all so terrifying, I don’t think I would want to give up this life, the friends and family, that I’ve found.

My name is Acedia, The Cryptid Crawler of New York, and I’m happy to be me.

[annesoftheisland]

Anne of the Island - Chapter XXIX

Diana's Wedding

"After all, the only real roses are the pink ones," said Anne, as she tied white ribbon around Diana's bouquet in the westwardlooking gable at Orchard Slope. "They are the flowers of love and faith."

Diana was standing nervously in the middle of the room, arrayed in her bridal white, her black curls frosted over with the film of her wedding veil. Anne had draped that veil, in accordance with the sentimental compact of years before.

"It's all pretty much as I used to imagine it long ago, when I wept over your inevitable marriage and our consequent parting," she laughed. "You are the bride of my dreams, Diana, with the `lovely misty veil'; and I am YOUR bridesmaid. But, alas! I haven't the puffed sleeves -- though these short lace ones are even prettier. Neither is my heart wholly breaking nor do I exactly hate Fred."

"We are not really parting, Anne," protested Diana. "I'm not going far away. We'll love each other just as much as ever. We've always kept that "oath" of friendship we swore long ago, haven't we?"

"Yes. We've kept it faithfully. We've had a beautiful friendship, Diana. We've never marred it by one quarrel or coolness or unkind word; and I hope it will always be so. But things can't be quite the same after this. You'll have other interests. I'll just be on the outside. But `such is life' as Mrs. Rachel says. Mrs. Rachel has given you one of her beloved knitted quilts of the `tobacco stripe' pattern, and she says when I am married she'll give me one, too."

"The mean thing about your getting married is that I won't be able to be your bridesmaid," lamented Diana.

"I'm to be Phil's bridesmaid next June, when she marries Mr. Blake, and then I must stop, for you know the proverb `three times a bridesmaid, never a bride,' " said Anne, peeping through the window over the pink and snow of the blossoming orchard beneath. "Here comes the minister, Diana."

"Oh, Anne," gasped Diana, suddenly turning very pale and beginning to tremble. "Oh, Anne -- I'm so nervous -- I can't go through with it -- Anne, I know I'm going to faint."

"If you do I'll drag you down to the rainwater hogshed and drop you in," said Anne unsympathetically. "Cheer up, dearest. Getting married can't be so very terrible when so many people survive the ceremony. See how cool and composed I am, and take courage."

"Wait till your turn comes, Miss Anne. Oh, Anne, I hear father coming upstairs. Give me my bouquet. Is my veil right? Am I very pale?"

"You look just lovely. Di, darling, kiss me good-bye for the last time. Diana Barry will never kiss me again."

"Diana Wright will, though. There, mother's calling. Come."

Following the simple, old-fashioned way in vogue then, Anne went down to the parlor on Gilbert's arm. They met at the top of the stairs for the first time since they had left Kingsport, for Gilbert had arrived only that day. Gilbert shook hands courteously. He was looking very well, though, as Anne instantly noted, rather thin. He was not pale; there was a flush on his cheek that had burned into it as Anne came along the hall towards him, in her soft, white dress with lilies-of-the-valley in the shining masses of her hair. As they entered the crowded parlor together a little murmur of admiration ran around the room. "What a fine-looking pair they are," whispered the impressible Mrs. Rachel to Marilla.

Fred ambled in alone, with a very red face, and then Diana swept in on her father's arm. She did not faint, and nothing untoward occurred to interrupt the ceremony. Feasting and merry-making followed; then, as the evening waned, Fred and Diana drove away through the moonlight to their new home, and Gilbert walked with Anne to Green Gables.

Something of their old comradeship had returned during the informal mirth of the evening. Oh, it was nice to be walking over that well-known road with Gilbert again!

The night was so very still that one should have been able to hear the whisper of roses in blossom -- the laughter of daisies -- the piping of grasses -- many sweet sounds, all tangled up together. The beauty of moonlight on familiar fields irradiated the world.

"Can't we take a ramble up Lovers' Lane before you go in?" asked Gilbert as they crossed the bridge over the Lake of Shining Waters, in which the moon lay like a great, drowned blossom of gold.

Anne assented readily. Lovers' Lane was a veritable path in a fairyland that night -- a shimmering, mysterious place, full of wizardry in the white-woven enchantment of moonlight. There had been a time when such a walk with Gilbert through Lovers' Lane would have been far too dangerous. But Roy and Christine had made it very safe now. Anne found herself thinking a good deal about Christine as she chatted lightly to Gilbert. She had met her several times before leaving Kingsport, and had been charmingly sweet to her. Christine had also been charmingly sweet. Indeed, they were a most cordial pair. But for all that, their acquaintance had not ripened into friendship. Evidently Christine was not a kindred spirit.

"Are you going to be in Avonlea all summer?" asked Gilbert.

"No. I'm going down east to Valley Road next week. Esther Haythorne wants me to teach for her through July and August. They have a summer term in that school, and Esther isn't feeling well. So I'm going to substitute for her. In one way I don't mind. Do you know, I'm beginning to feel a little bit like a stranger in Avonlea now? It makes me sorry -- but it's true. It's quite appalling to see the number of children who have shot up into big boys and girls -- really young men and women -- these past two years. Half of my pupils are grown up. It makes me feel awfully old to see them in the places you and I and our mates used to fill."

Anne laughed and sighed. She felt very old and mature and wise -- which showed how young she was. She told herself that she longed greatly to go back to those dear merry days when life was seen through a rosy mist of hope and illusion, and possessed an indefinable something that had passed away forever. Where was it now -- the glory and the dream?

"`So wags the world away,' " quoted Gilbert practically, and a trifle absently. Anne wondered if he were thinking of Christine. Oh, Avonlea was going to be so lonely now -- with Diana gone!

[kittyball23]

Argument (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Tensions rise when Floyd's rescue mission does not go as planned, and Branch makes a choice

__________________________________________

For a while, there was only the sound of heavy panting as each of the Trolls attempted to gather their bearings.

John Dory and Spruce were clinging on to each other, out of breath. Clay glanced distastefully at a rip in his shirt that had been caused by one of the Bergen’s scratching claws. Poppy and Branch were bent over, hands on knees, staring blankly at the ground and trying to process everything that had occurred. One thing was for certain. They had failed their mission, and nearly lost their lives in doing so. They were still one brother down. But Branch, for one, didn’t care about that anymore. However, the same could not be said for other Trolls.

“All right,” JD said when he was finally able to speak again. “So that didn’t work. But, there’s no harm in trying again, right? This time what we’ll do is – “

“ No harm?” John Dory was cut off by Branch’s hard voice. “We nearly got crushed and eaten – and you call that no harm? ” he growled.

“Okay…” JD paused, cringing, realizing he should reword himself. “Right, so not exactly ‘no harm,’ but we still could try again, but with a different strategy.”

“How about this strategy: we leave ,” Branch said firmly. “I’m not going to risk my life or my girlfriend’s life just to make some stupid dream of yours come true! If you really wanted to have the band all together, you should’ve thought about that years ago. All of you should have.” He glanced at Spruce and Clay, who winced.

“But Branch, what about Floyd?” Poppy asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Branch sighed. “He can manage on his own, I’m sure. They all managed on their own, didn’t they?” He gestured at the three brothers that were behind them. “He’ll find a way out. He’s a smart Troll. Well, except for that one dumb decision he made.”

Having had enough, John Dory stepped forward, a little annoyed. “Dude, will you stop mentioning that so many times? I’m trying to fix this. We’re trying to fix this!” he said, referring to himself, Spruce, and Clay.

“Oh yeah? Why? Did your solo career not go as planned? You need your backup again to make yourself look good?” Branch challenged.

John Dory ignored the stabs and pressed on. “Look, Branch, we’re almost there. We just need one more bro. Then we’ll be complete!”

“Ah, ah, ah, wrong,” Branch cut in, putting a finger up. “You need two more bros. Floyd, and myself. And you’re not going to get me. I refuse to be a part of this band in any way, shape, or form. So goodbye!” Huffing, he turned around and began to storm away.

“You’re really going to just walk away like that?” Spruce suddenly asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Branch said. “It wasn’t hard for you to do, was it?”

The purple Troll fell silent.

“Bro,” Clay spoke up, “don’t do this. Floyd’s your family. We’re your family!”

Branch whirled on the formerly yellow Troll. “No, you’re not. You lost the ability to call me your ‘brother’ when you guys left. A family doesn’t abandon each other.”

“But you’re doing that right now!” John Dory pointed out.

“I’m not. Because I just said that you’re not my family,” Branch clarified. He headed off again, without another word.

Poppy in the meantime had stood off to the side, watching them argue, speechless. The brothers look at her, silently pleading. She nodded. “I’ll talk to him.” She dashed off to catch up with him, the Troll already having made some distance.

“Branch, you can’t do this,” she said when she reached him.

“I just did,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“And you shouldn’t have!” Poppy insisted. “Just because they did something you didn’t like a long time ago doesn’t mean you should do the same exact thing!”

Branch pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Poppy… The only reason I agreed to go on this trip was because of you. Not John Dory. Not Spruce, or Clay, or really even Floyd. But… I can’t take it anymore. I’m done with this mission. I’m tired, and I want to go home.”

“But I don’t!” she said stubbornly.

“Really?” Branch said, his voice showing a hint of irritation in it. “Why’s that? So you can make your dream come true about meeting every member of your favorite boy band? So you can get all their autographs?”

Poppy opened her mouth to rebuke his suggestion, but found that she couldn’t. Her silence told him what he needed to know. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t your reason,” he said plainly.

“It… it wasn’t my entire reason,” she admitted. “What I really wanted was for you to see your family again. I wanted you guys to make up. To be friends and brothers again.” She gently took his hand in hers, holding it in what she hoped was a soothing gesture as she gazed into his eyes. “Please?”

Branch felt himself hesitating. It was incredibly difficult to want to say no to her, not with the way she was looking at him now, so sad, and yet hopeful too, as if she expected him to actually change his mind.

Branch swallowed hard, feeling his resolve beginning to weaken. Should he? No. Branch couldn’t. The scar ran too deep and the hurt was still too great. He let out a deep breath and looked away, disentangling his fingers from hers and silently walking off, leaving the Pop Queen torn on what in the world to do next.

__________________________________________

A/N: I'll be honest, I had Toy Story 4's argument scene in mind when I wrote this after they failed to save Forky from being kept hostage... but I guess we'll have to see what happens in the movie to spark a sad and/or argument scene!

[witcheroftheslothschool]

Red Rising Series + Sleeping At Last

I think this album fits the series so well…

Mars So we found our way back home Let our cuts and bruises heal While a brand-new war began One that no one else could feel Our nights have grown so long Now we beg for sound advice "Let the brokenness be felt 'Til you reach the other side There is goodness in the heart Of every broken man Who comes right up to the edge Of losing everything he has"

Pluto (Darrow) I woke up from the same dream Falling backwards, falling backwards 'Til it turned me inside out Now I live a waking life Of looking backwards, looking backwards A model citizen of doubt Until one day I had enough Of this exercise of trust I leaned in and let it hurt And let my body feel the dirt When I break pattern, I break ground I rebuild when I break down I wake up more awake than I've ever been before

Jupiter (Darrow) I don't know who I am, but now I know who I'm not I'm just a curious speck that got caught up in orbit In orbit Like a magnet it beckoned my metals toward it, toward it Make my messes matter Make this chaos count Let every little fracture in me Shatter out loud

Neptune (Darrow + Eo + Mustang) There was a stained-glass, variation of the truth And I felt empty-handed You let me set sail with cheap wood So I patched up every leak that I could 'Til the blame grew too heavy Stitch by stitch, I tear apart If brokenness is a form of art I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread, I come apart If brokenness is a work of art Surely this must be my masterpiece I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks When I open my mouth I wanna tell you, but I don't know how I'm only honest when it rains An open book, with a torn out page And my inks run out I wanna love you but I don't know how

Earth Swear to the earth that I will keep it Brush off the dirt And let my change of heart occur Sold soon after the appraisal The hammer struck the auction table Louder than anything I've ever heard Fault lines tremble underneath my glass house But I put it out of my mind Long enough to call it courage To live without a lifeline I bend the definition Of faith to exonerate my blind eye Till the sirens sound, I'm safe Meanwhile, my family's taking shelter The sparks send the fire down the wire A countdown begins Until the dynamite gives in The echo, as wide as the equator Travels through a world of built up anger Too late to pull itself together now

Venus (Darrow + Virginia) Suddenly, I see you ♪ I was a billion little pieces 'Til you pulled me into focus Astronomy in reverse It was me who was discovered A billion little pieces (like a telescope) You pulled me into focus (I will pull you so close) Astronomy in reverse ('til no space lies in between)

Mercury Neptune (Darrow + Eo + Mustang) I'll go anywhere you want Anywhere you want me I know the further I go The harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed And somehow I've fallen in love With this middle ground at the cost of my soul Yet I know, if I stepped aside Released the controls, you would open my eyes That somehow, all of this mess Is just my attempt to know the worth of my life...

Saturn (Darrow + Eo) You taught me the courage of stars before you left How light carries on endlessly even after death With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite How rare and beautiful it is to even exist I couldn't help but ask For you to say it all again I tried to write it down But I could never find a pen I'd give anything to hear You say it one more time That the universe was made Just to be seen by my eyes

[rememerance]

My Journey of Awakening

Part ll

They were flowing through my blood vessels and breath every single moment. A nightmare from which I could not wake up. A year passed. Two years passed. Three years passed. My depression slowly got better during these times, but every time I thought about that day in the elevator, I regretted not carrying out my plan because I couldn't see any meaning that staying alive had brought me. I just kept suffering from this deep-seated loneliness, loneliness, loneliness every moment of my every day.

Every single day for all these years, I never stopped looking outward for the connection that I never ceased to crave, all the while blaming the world and humanity for its superficiality, ugliness, stupidity and materialism. I never felt like I belonged to any aspect of this world. I loathed the human beings. I was bitterly obsessed with returning to the imaginary planet of passionate idealist beings that I belonged to, my true home, that I couldn't even know if existed, and harrowingly dreaming about waking up from this nightmare.

Fast forward to the end of April, 2023, when I was first drawn to the Law of Attraction. What immediately, deeply and perfectly resonated with me was what its philosophy describes as the Source behind this world where all humans coming from. For the first time in almost a decade, I no longer felt any loneliness. It magically disappeared completely. I felt no more need to seek for connections with anyone. My chronic obsessing longing for romantic love was completely gone. The almost decade-long, soul-deep loneliness that tormented me more and more every moment as my life progressed, vanished completely. The process happened so naturally and silently that it took some time after it happened for me to realize that I was no longer lonely. So I didn't even get a chance to be surprised or shocked. Didn't have the chance to say goodbye to my dear old friend, Lonely.

Yet the complete transformation of my whole person and life occurred after watching people's near-death experiences which my reason could not refute. In the moment they described the light and unconditional eternal love they experienced, I couldn't imagine, couldn't believe, couldn't comprehend, couldn't even come to terms with the fact that the world I have been in, the universe, everything that exists, is the very thing that I have never stopped searching and longing for all my life. Everything that I have deeply longed for for nearly a decade, all of it, is embracing me eternally warmly and entirely, and existing through my very existence. All my questions were answered. Questions that I expected an answer for and never expected an answer for. Answers that I decided to search for for the rest of my life through dedicating in science and researching. Answers that I believed I could never ever ever find during the time I am in this world. Answers that I have craved, longed for, dreamed of. Answers that make my soul tremble in the mixture of disbelief and overwhelming bliss. Answers that are incomprehensibly ravishing. A person who had been starving for ten years found mountains of Michelin-quality delicacies. A body that had been thirsty for ten years fell into a giant raging clear river. The enormous realisation happened so dramatically and suddenly that it seems just like a dream. Luckily it isn't a dream. Indeed all just a dream. An extremely magnificent dream. A dream of gift. A dream of bliss. Fairy tales come true. Holy shit. Oh my god. It's a fantastic joke. A joke I played on myself. The life I chose and planned. The family and the people around me I chose to be diametrically opposed to my nature. The culture, the nationality to be born into. I chose to go through 23 years of slumber, love deprivation, utmost loneliness, and then wake up violently and unexpectedly. I'm so thankful for myself. I could be THIS humorous. Damn. Fuck. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Not bad for me. To think that when I was 19, someone saw my struggles then and tried to introduce spirituality to me, and how dismissive I was, refusing without giving them a second chance, not even giving a thought, as I was brought up in a society that taught me to only believe in sicence and ditch everything else that is not science. My mother who caused me endless pain and anxiety, the mother I used to detest, for her I now have nothing but love, blessings and compassion. How thankful I am that I didn't leave this world that year at 18, even if I actually now know that god could not have let me die that day no matter what, as that is not in my Plan, and even if I've always thought that my absurd feeling of good mood in the elevator that day was an unfortunate coincidence. I just want to say to my pre-birth self, which is actually also the one now typing, your fucking plan is fucking perfect. Hell humor. You know indeed how to be funny. Holy shit. How I would love to go back to the moment I chose my life plan and see what the hell I was thinking. I'm in shock every moment of every day, every time I realize that everything I've been looking for is this world, I get in deep shock, thrill, unable to believe it, asking how can this be not just a dream? And then I go on with my daily routines. Then again I suddenly realize that everything I have been searching for all my life is this world, and I get again in deep shock, thrilled, unable to believe, unable to comprehend, asking how can this be true? This process repeats itself over and over again. Over and over and over. WOW. Holy shit. Bull vagina. Ah. How ingenious, how majestic, how laudable my pre-birth plan is 👍🏻: my chosen game character attributes:

Name: Fifi

Traits: pure idealist, sensitive, craves unconditional love. Follows intuition automatically.

Awakening: The character will be completely unconcious until the age of 23, and awakens before the age of 24.

Father: Giver of love, the only person the character loves dearly in childhood. Rarely sees the character, passes away when the character is eight. Unconcious for his whole life.

Mother and other family members: pure realists. Pragmatic. Unable to give the character unconditional love. Unconcious.

Social Environment: atheism, realism, restraining society. Highly unconcious society.

All classmates: realists. Unconcious.

...

What are the traits of your game character? Did you wake up yet? Did you choose to be unconcious for your whole life? Did you choose to wake up in the year you are reading this?

Near-death experience videos mentioned:

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLhKH1qyzUjA_1A8wBzTlSxqpyCD3zxFer

Personal Journey

[enjoyyourtravelsechooflight]

Here is a very small sample of my self-published book of poetry titled: Stay lucid - echo of light.

In the beauty of stunned silence

a moment can be bold

nothing being bought

nothing being sold

sing it simply

say it softly

something

perfect

I can

Hold

-

Any number of years later,

a circuit breaker.

A decision here, now,

a new dimension opens-up.

An alternate path.

The week plays out,

a twist on what was set to occur just a moment before.

Sometimes these moments matter more than we realise.

Stay Lucid - Echo of Light is a collection of poems, songs and stories written by myself between 2012 and 2020.

A brief intro about me:

I bundle words together on a regular basis. Sometimes I try throwing these bundles into a crowded room to see what happens. I was a National Poetry Slam State Finalist in 2014.

Every few years I have also experienced cases of psychosis. Mostly this just results in more writing about inexplicable experiences.

Much of my writing has been a result of being an avid participant of the local slam poetry scene in Brisbane, and many pieces in this collection are written to be performed. Ever since covid I've spent less time at events performing work that I have written. I've fallen out of the pattern of writing and performing.

At the same time, I've actively spent the last 2 and a half years writing and working on some new ideas in private with a central theme. I recently joined toastmasters to explore and practice the way I present and perform written work of mine with the hope that it is entertaining and engaging.

In all of my recent writing I wanted to explore the following idea or theme:

Am I being tested? Echo of light?

“Echo of light” is my nick-name for the universe, existence, reality itself.

So when I ask: Is this a test, Universe?

I am exploring the relationship we have to reality, life and love. And I want to write more about finding a sense of peace and oneness, connection and non-dual awareness.

As I mentioned in my intro I also personally have a less straightforward relationship with reality myself. I have experienced multiple episodes of psychosis where I was so unwell I needed to stay in hospital.

And in the months after these intense experiences I needed to heal and reconnect slowly to the everyday experiences we all take for granted.

I plan to write about what it feels like to have your sense of reality disconnected, and eventually restored again.

I have also explored meditation as a way to calm my senses, as well as a way to go into deep contemplation about what existence and life actually is.

I’ll read you some of my recent writing: This is a short piece I wrote last year about a dream I had after a very tiring week of extra-long work days that only seemed bearable if I had an extra strong coffee each morning.

Afterwards I let my head hit the pillow and experience the following dream:

I stand adrift in a Starbucks queue. It was a Starbucks I knew. There are multiple stores I visit depending which one I’m coming past on different days. This was all of them, and it was none of them all at once. It was a dream after all, the important content felt as real as a cold (ice filled) plastic cup in my hand. The details luminous in between, making more sense than they should (given the fluidity that this looped universe seemed to have).

The main part of the dream was the conversation I was having with the barista concerning my usual order: A Venti sized Iced Long Black. I was within the decision-making process on how to say my order, many variations spinning in and out of view, most important was the question of how many shots this intense drink actually had.

In truth it already had a monstrous amount, a Venti Iced long black is assumed to contain 4 shots already.

It suddenly seemed necessary to go ahead and request it as

“A Venti Iced Long Black, with sugar free vanilla syrup, and an extra shot please. Being sure to clarify that yes, I did want 5 shots of coffee. That is what I’m asking for, that’s what I want to happen to me. A multiverse of baristas assuring me some customers ask for much worse, this is fine, that they are not in the least bit surprised, if I need 5 shots today then they totally understand.

The conversation unravelled in and out of view perpetually.

I order the coffee. I walk away with a cardboard cup holder shielding the cold, Icey handful. I take a sip as I am in transit. I am on my way somewhere. Heading towards my long workday. I wander, the world bustles, and a whole day and night seems to pass. I find myself in the Starbucks queue again. My place in the queue renewed, the conversation ready to begin again. Yes of course. 5 shots IS the perfect amount for YOU. This is what you’ve needed all along, it’s quite vital you remember this always. 4 shots have always been there, but today you are going to order 5. When you have finished sipping that cold drink, when it’s done, you will have consumed five whole shots of this nectar of the gods. There’s nothing you won’t be able to do, nothing you won’t be able to see. And just as I had another cup in my grasp, as I began to explore, traverse the world again, another pleasant day seemed to have passed.

Once again, I felt I was at a doorway, at the precipice of a conversation. A conversation I was getting used to. A conversation about how today, and every-day. I would like exactly 5 shots of coffee in my iced long black. I have never been more certain of anything in my life.

I woke from the dream, feeling so refreshed and alive with the ideas within it, it was as if I’d consumed all the coffees from my dreams through some kind of osmosis. My heart fluttering just a bit as my brain calculated when I would next be within striking distance of a real cafe, where this fateful conversation could actually take place.

“Soon.” I thought to myself. “sometime very soon.”

When the 10 minute walk between the coffee shop, and the office (just a few blocks) is f-ing magic. Just fantastic. You've hit that total sweet spot, Ice in your coffee rolls and rocks. As you walk, holding on to the world, like this cold, plastic cup, was a handle, and the universe around just understands you. Just understands you, that’s your relationship with her, your lady love, that is made up of everything below, and everything above. When that moment... (and it may happen every weekday for a month (if you are lucky, or in love.) When that happens. Drink it up. It's ok. It's enough.

That is just a small example of the kind of writing I've been working on.

In this case, just a few pages of meditation on the less universe questioning theme of ‘Iced Coffee’. But exploring dreams and my relationship to reality none-the-less.

I also wrote myself a short manifesto 2 years ago. Just a note to myself about my writing practice:

I will continue to lean on art as a go to balm for my everyday worries, conflict and as a way to transform wounds into moments of love, peace and inspiration. I will push my own practice of noting to self in artistic ways, and expressing my deepest contemplations in things as basic as my carefully curated daily music playlist, short pieces of writing or small moments of photography. I will do all this on purpose, and I will keep doing it all and finding ways to take it further whenever the time will allow.

(This is the script of my Ice Breaker speech I’m performing today as part of my Engaging Humour Pathway I've started at my local Toastmasters club. I hope there is enough Iced Coffee in it to keep everyone awake.)

[storiesforallfandoms]

hand delivered ~ corpse husband

word count: 1498

request?: no

description: in which he surprises her with a visit, and she surprises him with something else

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

i was inspired by corpse hand delivering sykkuno’s hoodie so i had to write a hella fluffy imagine on it

“I swear to God Rae!” you exclaimed as Rae giggled at her actions.

The two of you were streaming GTA V together at Rae had taken an amusement to stealing cars and driving them towards you, narrowly avoiding killing you every time. For obvious reasons, this wasn’t exactly keeping you under the radar of the cops. Quite the opposite, actually. You were spending most of your time running from both Rae and the cops.

“We’re never gonna make any money at this rate,” you told her. “We’re gonna spend it all on bail fees.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Rae argued. “Just jump in, we’ll go to the next job.”

“I can’t jump in when you’re trying to run me over!”

Rae giggled again as your chat joked about what she was doing to you. You rolled your eyes at everyone, but you couldn’t stop the smile that was on your face.

Before you could jump into the car that Rae had recently stolen, you heard a knock at your door. You paused a moment, confused. You weren’t expecting anyone, and you hadn’t ordered any take out or anything. You decided to ignore it, figuring maybe it was a wrong place or something and if no one answered they’d leave. But the knock came again, this time a bit louder and faster.

“Hey, don’t get us killed, I gotta go AFK for a second,” you told Rae. You heard just a piece of her response as you set your headphone aside and made your way to your front door.

You were looking down when you opened the door, prepared to tell whoever was there that they were at the wrong house, but instead your gaze landed on a pair of familiar hands holding a black and red hoodie, folded in a way that all you could see was the familiar fanart of Corpse Husband.

Against your better judgement, you let your eyes trail up to the face of your visitor, the real life version of the face on the hoodie, smiling down at you. Your eyes widened. It was the first time you had ever seen Corpse’s face, and it felt illegal to be standing here looking at him. You quickly covered your eyes, willing yourself to forget what you had saw.

“(Y/N),” Corpse laughed. “You don’t have to cover your eyes.”

“I saw your face!” you said. “I-I saw your actual face! I have to gouge my eyes out or something!”

You felt his cold hands taking hold of your own, lowering them from your eyes so you could look up at him again. Although you tried to stop yourself, you let your eyes wander over his face, taking in every detail. It occurred to you in that moment that this was the first time you were seeing the face of a man you had been crushing on for the past six months.

“Come in,” you said, realizing that he was still just standing outside. “Come, get comfortable. I’m-I’m streaming, I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t have to end your stream early because of me.”

That voice! It comes from an actual person! A real, living person!

“You really think I’ll be able to return to my stream for another few hours while you’re here?” you questioned. “It’s fine, it’s just GTA with Rae. She’ll probably play with Sykkuno instead when I get off.”

You felt like you were in a daze as you returned to your room. You quickly told Rae you were hopping off stream and you’d explain to her - and to your viewers - why later on. Your chat started asking what was wrong, but you ended the stream before responding.

When you returned to your living room, you saw the back of Corpse’s curly, brown haired head sitting on your couch. Your heart was racing with so many different emotions. You couldn’t believe he was actually here, that the voice you had befriended nearly half a year ago was actually sat in your house.

“Wait a second,” you said, realizing something. “Don’t you live like...five hours away? Corpse, did you drive five hours to come visit me?”

He looked up at you and shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“So?! Corpse, you have nerve issues! You can’t even sit straight for ten minutes!” You were suddenly starting to feel guilty, although obviously you hadn’t asked Corpse to come visit you.

“I’m fine!” he assured you. “Do I look like I’m in pain? I wanted to come give you your merch, and I figured this would be a nice surprise too!”

You went to sit next to him, your heart beating faster the closer you got to him. You were sure this was just a dream and you’d wake up in bed at any moment. To test your theory, you slowly inched your finger forward to softly poke Corpse’s cheek. He chuckled as you jumped back, shocked by the success of your touch.

“You’re real!” you blurted, causing more laughter.

“I am real. Are you surprised?”

“Just a little,” you admitted.

You both sat in silence, just looking at one another. You weren’t really sure what to say. It was like every possible topic you could bring up, or every joke you could make, was suddenly gone. It was obvious Corpse was feeling the same as he was usually the one who could keep a conversation going.

“Try on your hoodie,” he finally said, passing you the hoodie he was still holding to you. You took it excitedly and slipped it on over your head. The warm material engulfed you immediately. It was definitely a few sizes too big, but that was your favorite part - the bagginess of it.

“It’s perfect,” you told him. “Thank you so much for bringing it to me.”

“I told you I would. I really wanted you to have at least one article of my merch. You were so excited for it when I released it.”

You held the hoodie close to your nose, taking in the scent of Corpse that still lingered on it. There was so much happiness bubbling up inside of you that you felt like you were going to burst at any moment. You really did not think things could get any better.

“Can I hug you?” you asked.

Corpse smiled and opened his arms as a response. You immediately lunged into them, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly. It was the last confirmation you needed that this was all real, that Corpse was really there.

The hug was prolonged and eventually Corpse was pulling you into his lap, squeezing you back as if afraid that you would disappear too. You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his curly locks brush against your face. You never wanted to let go, and you could tell that Corpse felt the same way.

When you finally pulled away from the hug, you looked down into Corpse’s eyes. His hands were still resting on your hips, and yours were on his shoulders. Before you could stop yourself, you were leaning forward to kiss him. The minute your lips collided, it was like someone had set off fireworks inside your small apartment.

You pulled away almost immediately, realizing what you had done. “I-I’m sorry. That-that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

There was a small smile on Corpse’s face as his hands came up to cup your face and pulled you to him, attaching his lips to yours again.

Just when I thought today couldn’t get any better.

Forgetting the world around you, you became lost in one another. Your arms were back around Corpse’s neck, holding on to him as if you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. One of his hands was still on your cheek as the other slipped behind your head, your hair tangling around his fingers. There was so much passion in the kiss that it made your head spin, and when the two of you finally pulled away it felt like your head was spinning.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Corpse told you. “I may have been hoping something like this would happen when I got here.”

“What?” you questioned. “Why did you never tell me how you were feeling?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Corpse teased. “I was always flirting with you, I had hoped you’d get the message.”

“Corpse, you flirt with everyone!”

The two of you laughed. You couldn’t help but dip your head to kiss him once more. His lips were intoxicating, and you just wanted to kiss them all the time.

“How long were you planning on staying?” you asked.

“I don’t know. I was going to see how well this visit went and go from there.”

You giggled and cuddled into Corpse’s arms. “Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. I think I’ll have a hard time letting you go now, though.”

“I think I’ll have a hard time leaving.”

[nineteenninety-six]

A Little Bit of Sunshine

↳ Hector x Reader

↳ Word Count: 3.09k

↳ Requested by @shadechu​

A/N: I have never written for Castlevania before but I really enjoyed writing this, it flowed so easily. Hector is probably OOC but who cares lol. 

Anyway, enjoy :D

Hector had moved to a small town after everything had gone down with Lenore. After she died he realised how much damage she caused him, the lasting marks of her abuse and manipulation still scarred his body and mind and he could no longer stay in a place where they had lived and she had died.

The fact that he managed to escape the bond she had on him and that he was able to deceive her was only able to sustain him for a short while before everything fell apart and Hector was no longer able to act as if everything was okay, so he left and started anew.

The new town was on the smaller side but not small to the point where he would stand out. He easily blended into bustling crowds in the town centre and the residents treated him like any other local. For the first time in a long time, he felt normal, as working for Dracula was an experience that words couldn't explain.

He had his own little cabin in the woods where he could be at peace and the distance to the town centre was far but long enough for him to enjoy the sights as he walked past. All in all, he liked this new path of his life, it was almost completely different than it used to be and he expected to miss it but he enjoyed the calmness and serenity of this new path of his life.

On his usual weekly trip to town, someone called out to him, trying to catch his attention. it was a young woman, probably the same age as him and she was calling for his attention, waving him over to her stall.

"Sir! Sir!"

Hector looked up in surprise and as soon as the woman realised she had his attention a bright smile overtook over her face before she eagerly began to wave him over, swinging her arms back and forth over her head, gathering the attention of the other people around them.

Hector quickly shuffled over to them not wanting her to cause an even bigger scene and pull more attention their way.

"You're new aren't you?" Was the first thing out of her mouth.

Hector flinched in shock at her words, not expecting them. No one else knew he was new and that put him on edge.

"Oh don't look so surprised, I just know everyone that comes here."

Hector raises a brow at her words, " ... That's weird. You do realise that right?"

The woman shrugs, "Maybe but it makes for good business. People are more likely to buy something if I remember them from just previously meeting."

Hector realises that he's standing in front of a stall filled with baked goods, "You're a baker?"

"Family business," She clarifies, “I mostly do the selling due to my - "

"Charm?" Hector cuts in with a sarcastic tone.

"Actually, I was going to say my good looks but yes charm too." The woman grins.

Hector couldn't help but bark out a laugh, the woman never missed a beat.

"I'm (Y/N) in case you wanted to know" (Y/N) informed him with a wink.

Hector had to twist his lips so that the smile that so desperately wanted to escape, couldn't.

"Hector" He introduced himself.

"Well Hector, what can I get you? " (Y/N) asked, gesturing to the spread of baked goods in front of her.

Oh, she was smart. Catching his attention, making him come over to his stall and

converse with her in front of everyone and now he could surely not been seen walking away with nothing after taking up her time. While he didn't really care about the local’s opinions about him, he didn't want to be outcasted more than he already was.

"I'll have a loaf and a sweet pie please"

(Y/N) shoots him a bright smile and packs up his items, then collects his money.

"Thank you, Hector. I hope to see you again soon"

"I'll see you again" Hector responded

As he began to walk back home, Hector thought back on how easily (Y/N) made him feel at ease, how he brought a smile to his face and drew laughter from and he got scared.

This is how Lenore got her claws in him, she manipulated and lied to him before tricking him into servitude and he never wanted something like that to ever happen again.

He decided for the health of his mind, he would keep his distance from (Y/N). He couldn't find it in himself to completely ghost her and ignore her so he'll keep cordial. He'll be friendly but he couldn't let himself become close to her.

.•° ✿ °•.

His plan worked well, every time he went up to town he stopped by her stall and bought what ended up being his usual order of a loaf and a sweet pie, engaged in small talk with (Y/N) before leaving and it worked well for weeks until he had a dream about Lenore one night.

A mere dream had knocked him off-kilter. He had awoken a mess and fell out of his bed in his confused and frantic attempt to escape his blankets. He only managed to crawl a few paces before collapsing on the cold floor, his remaining energy only enough to let him roll onto his back. Hector blinked lazily up at the ceiling as everything he had locked away came rushing back. He relived the moment when he fell for her, the moment he realised that she had tricked him, the moment when she realised he betrayed her and then when she had died by her own will.

Everything that had occurred over the last few years played in front of his eyes and he hated every part of it. He could never forgive himself for being so naive and trusting yet he missed those traits of his.

When he 'awoke' again, the sun was moving low, signifying sunset wasn't far away. He pulled himself up and washed his face at the basin before he left his cabin, his feet taking him into town. The town centre was still busy despite the late hour and so was she, the woman who he came to see.

Despite the other stall owners who had either left or were in the process of doing so, her stall was still set up with what remaining items she had left. She was sitting on a stall with a book on her lap in a different world and Hector felt bad about disturbing her but he needed her.

He didn't even have to call her name, as soon as he was a few feet away, she looked up at him with a smile and closed her book shut, though when she got a proper look at him, her smile faltered.

"Hector?" She made her way over to him, brow furrowed in concern, "Is everything okay?"

He must look like a mess. He certainly felt it on the inside and he had been in a trance since he woke up, not paying any attention to his looks.

"I... um, I -" Hector stumbled over his words, his tongue suddenly heavy.

"Why don't you take a seat" (Y/N) guided Hector to her stall and offered him some water from the pouch at her side.

Seeing that he was in no position to talk about what happened, (Y/N) changed the topic slightly, "I thought you were not coming today. I got so used to seeing you, it would be a shame if I did not see you."

"But do not fret, I set aside your usual order for you," She said as she showed him a little wrapped up basket.

Hector nodded, the change in conversation took the pressure off his shoulders and he felt more at ease to speak.

"What do you do with the ones you do not sell? "He asked

"Today these are going to the homeless. I usually alternate between them, the orphanage and poor families"

"That is kind of you. Nobody did anything like that when I was young"

"I think the world is horrible enough with the wars and death and it costs nothing to do a little good within your own community" (Y/N) then looked up at the sky and noticed the changing colours, “Do you want to come with me as I give these out?”

Desperate for more of a distraction, Hector agrees and he helps her clear up her stan before they set off to a different part of town, him carrying the basket of baked goods for the homeless.

“Do you have any family, Hector?” (Y/N) asked.

Hector shook his head, his grey hair swishing around his chin as he did so, “Just me”

“Hm, well if you want any annoying younger siblings, I’ll eagerly give you all of mine”

“Surely they’re not that bad-”

(Y/N) lets out a laugh, “One day I’ll take you to meet them. You’ll regret your words!”

As they walked around, handing the food to the less fortunate, Hector noticed the strange way (Y/N) behaved. Her head constantly twitched one way to the other, as if someone was calling for her attention but she stopped herself before fully turning around to see and her eyes were flickering about like seeing things that weren’t there.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?” Hector asked

(Y/N) froze when he spoke, looking at him with wide eyes, she twisted her head around to make sure no one was nearby before she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hidden alcove.

There was fear in her eyes as she gripped his hands tightly, “I am telling you this because I trust you but you cannot tell anyone or they will kill me.”

“(Y/N)...?”

(Y/N) casts one more precautionary look around her before speaking, “I can speak to animals”

Hector blinked in surprise, that was the last thing he expected.

“You...speak to animals?”

“Speak, understand, you know the whole thing”

“...The whole thing?” Hector repeated after her.

(Y/N)’s shoulder slumped in disappointment at his words, “You do not believe me. Of course, you don’t, I sound like a crazy woman.”

“No, no!” Hector was quick to reassure her, “I don’t think you’re crazy, of course not.”

(Y/N) gripped Hector’s hands tighter in relief and he suddenly realised that they had not stopped holding hands since she had dragged him. Her hands were soft but strong and steady and they fit perfectly in his, he never wanted to let go.

“I could do since I was a child and I told my parents but they thought I was a child with a large imagination so they ignored me,” (Y/N) began to elaborate on her talent, “And when I was ten there was a witch-burning in our old town, an older woman was accused of conjuring spirits and setting against the people of the village but in reality, she was just a sick old woman who needed help. After that, I knew I couldn’t let anyone know about you know what”

“Why did you tell me?” Hector asked.

“...I don’t know. There’s something about you, so understanding, empathetic, trustworthy. I know I can trust you.”

(Y/N) had revealed her deepest secret to him, made herself vulnerable yet he could not do the same to her, though the ability to communicate with animals was much different than being a forgemaster.

“You can trust me, I promise I will not tell anyone.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders relaxed and she gave him a brief smile, “Your belief in me means more than you know.”

“Now,” Hector lifted the basket up, “Should we finish what we started?”

It had progressively gotten darker, the sun only moments away from going down completely.

“Of course! We must finish before it gets too dark.” (Y/N) stepped out of the alcove and hurried down the street, dragging Hector behind her, still holding on to his hand.

-

It was dark by the time they began to walk home, Hector insisting on walking her home so that she wasn’t alone at night. She stopped in front of a little cabin, not unlike his, it also wasn’t that far away from his.

“You don’t live with your family?” Hector asked.

(Y/N) shook her head, “It is better for me this way. I love my family, truly but the chance of them finding out about me is something I can’t risk. I cannot truly say that they wouldn’t expose me… there are some things that are beyond even family ties.”

“Anyway,” (Y/N) spoke with a sigh, “It is late, I need to sleep. Thank you for today, Hector. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hector waited until (Y/N) had reached her door and spoke again, “Can we...meet again soon?”

(Y/N) gave him a toothy smile, “Of course. In two days by the lake? I can bring a picnic for lunch.”

Hector nodded, “I’ll see you then.”

He waited until her door closed before he made his way home, his heart feeling happy. He had forgotten how he felt earlier that day and (Y/N) had completely turned his day around. He did feel guilt though, he went to for help, a distraction which she provided and then she revealed a deep secret of hers yet he couldn’t even tell her about his nor his past with Lenore or history with Dracula and being a forgemaster. The things he carried were heavy yet (Y/N) had already been so understanding and kink that he didn’t fear telling them to her, he knew she would understand.

In two days at the picnic, he would tell her.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) was already by the lake by the time he arrived, speaking out loud to someone he couldn’t see but when he heard the responding barks and yelps, he realised that she was talking to a dog. He hurried his pace to catch up to her, excited to see her communicate to animals in person.

“Is that a dog you’re speaking to?” He shouted as he jogged over to her.

(Y/N) spun around with a smile, “Yes! I’ll introduce you to him!”

She crouched down and took the dog into her arms before turning towards him after he finally reached her,

“Hector this is- Cezar”

“-Cezar”

Hector and (Y/N) spoke at the same time. Hector stared at the dog he had not seen since Carmilla had dragged him away after Dracula died and (Y/N) stared at Hector, surprised he knew the little mongrel dog.

Cezar eagerly barked at Hector, his tiny body wriggling in excitement as he tried to escape (Y/N)’s hold, so she let him down and watched as he raced over to Hector barking like mad and when Hector kneeled down, the door jumped into his arms and wiggled some more.

“...So I guess you know each other then?” (Y/N) asked.

“Cezar is my dog,” Hector explained, giving the small dog rubs and pats, “I got separated from him a while ago but how did you meet him?”

“We stumbled across each other last year and then we became close companions...but I’ve always been curious about something about him.”

“Is it that he looks like he should be dead?”

(Y/N) laughed, “Yes, Hector. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little dog but he looks a bit beyond his years.”

Hector put Cezar down and together they began walking towards the lake so they could set up their picnic.

He took a deep breath before he began to explain what he could do, “I’m a forgemaster.”

“Forgemaster? What’s that?”

Of course, she wouldn’t know what that was, her world was not the same as his.

“I can bring back animals and humans from the dead and call demons from hell.”

“Wow...that’s uh...wow”

“I’m sorry for dumping this on you, I know it’s quite heavy stuff.”

“I did not know that was possible”

“Many don’t. It’s beyond comprehension.”

“If I wasn’t looking at proof right now” (Y/N) pointed towards Cezar who was trotting ahead of them, “I wouldn’t believe it either.”

“Is that what caused you such distress the other day?” (Y/N) asked as they found a place to sit down.

“No, no, that was about Lenore.”

(Y/N) kept quiet allowing Hector to speak at his own pace.

“I was taken captive, stuck in a cell and Lenore gained my trust, pretending that she was someone that I could trust only to betray me and me her slave to her and her sisters. I was under their or more specifically her control for over a year until I managed to trick her and end the ‘bond’.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Dead. She was a vampire and decided it was her time to go.”

“Did you love her?” (Y/N) asked

“No, I don’t think I did. After I realised what she had done to me any feelings that I may have had disappeared, they were not formed authentically. I still feel incredibly stupid about the whole thing, I was foolish to believe someone who was involved in sisterhood with the person who captured me would genuinely care for me.”

“You were not foolish, you were human Hector '' (Y/N) comforted him, “You were vulnerable and she took advantage of that, you should not feel ashamed. You are strong that’s why you’re here with me right now and Lenore is no longer alive. You will never be proud of yourself if you keep on diminishing what you’ve achieved so far. You’ll never be happy and I want you to be happy”

Hector takes her hand in his, “I want to be happy.”

(Y/N) smiles at him, “You will be, I know you will.”

“I want to be happy with you”

“Oh-” (Y/N) smile changes into a softer one that tickles Hector’s heart, “I want to be happy with you too.”

“Imagine it,” Hector falls onto his back and tugs (Y/N) down with him, “You, me, Cezar in a cabin in the woods and all the animals you wish to speak to”

(Y/N) laughs, “You wouldn’t believe how chatting animals are, I’m fine with just being me you and Cezar for the moment.”

Cezar jumps up on Hector’s chest with a bark before settling down with a huff.

“Sounds like he agrees”

[maboroshi-no]

Hamefura Pirates: Katarina talks with Original Katarina

This is a translation of an event occuring in Chapter 7 of Nicol’s route.

All of the summaries / translations I have written so far are available in the Hamefura Pirates Summary Index.

Context: Katarina is wandering in her mind after she got possessed by the witch.

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

???: *sob* *sob*

Inside this complete darkness, all I could hear was the sobbing voice and the sound of my footsteps.

I walked around while relying only on the sobbing voice. Before long, I finally spotted the silhouette of someone crouching down in the distance.

Katarina: (Thank goodness! There is someone!!)

Katarina: Ummm, are you okay? Did something happen?

After I said this, I completely froze up. Because the one standing there was the child me.

With tears dripping on her face, the child me was glaring at me with her characteristic harsh-looking eyes.

Katarina (Child): Geez! I got tired of waiting! Get out of here fast and let me see Prince Geordo, you dunce!

Katarina: Whaaaat…??

After putting her chin out, the child me crossed her arms in a very self-important way.

As I went blank over the situation, she stamped her feet in irritation.

Katarina (Child): It's like talking to a wall! Are you listening to me?! Are these ears just for decoration?!

Katarina (Child): Just a little more and we can bind Prince Geordo to us! Hurry up and get out of here!

Katarina: (Ummm… Could she be the 8-years-old me…?)

Katarina: Ummm… Can I ask you your name and your age?

When I hesitantly asked her this, the child Katarina looked at me like I was making fun of her

Katarina (Child): I am Katarina Claes!!! I am 8 years old! Don't you know this too?

Katarina: (I-I knew it! She is me~~!!)

On top of this, her personality was just like the one I had before I recovered my memories from my past life.

How come the 8-years-old Katarina and I are in this darkness?

As I was at a loss without understanding the situation at all, the 8-years-old Katarina stamped her feet in irritation again.

Katarina (Child): Hurry up and let me see Prince Geordo. He is the prince of my dreams!

Katarina: What? Let you see Prince Geordo?! Why…?

Katarina (Child): Don't ask! Hurry up and do as I say! Else I'll tell on you to Father and you won't be able to stand in high society!

Katarina: (This Katarina really is like Katarina in the game…)

It was the personality I originally had before I recovered my memories from my past life.

My personality changed after I hit my head but I indeed had a period like this. I truly was "Villainess Katarina Claes".

Katarina: (But if she was all alone in this darkness she must have been scared, and she got angry from feeling lonely…)

She was supposed to be me, but maybe because I didn't consider her as me, the Katarina before me suddenly looked like a poor thing.

Katarina: It will be okay! I will look for an exit! Let's go meet Prince Geordo together, okay?

Katarina: And, you know, you have many other wonderful friends, like Lord Nicol and Lady Sophia!

Because I wanted her to feel at ease, I crouched down and looked the child Katarina in the eyes.

But Katarina just snorted.

Katarina (Child): I don't care about friends. More importantly, hurry up and take me with you, you dunce!

Katarina : Eh?!

Katarina glared at me with her harsh-looking eyes and vigorously raised her hand over head. I got startled so I reflexively closed my eyes but…

Katarina: (Huh? She won't hit me…?)

When I timidly opened my eyes, the child Katarina was looking at me with a blank look.

[donald4spiderman]

Ok hear me out. Spencer is dating Reader and she’s always hated that she’s been more chubby/curvy. And one night in the middle of a case she calls him crying and Spencer just gets really soft and calms her down after a bad nightmare. And his heart breaks cause his loving girlfriend hates her body. So Spencer plans this elaborate date and proposes maybe? You can decide if the team have met her or not. I’d like it to be the original team but if you wanna combine the original and new teams together that’s cool too!

no bc my body image issues have been rampant lately so this is personal as hell to me. I work out a lot and i’m fit but i’ve never been SKINNY like i have thick legs and muscular arms andnnfnfjndjnffn so this is personal.

I modified this a bit but it’s still the same premises hope you like it! ***BTW IN THIS UNIVERSE THE S3-7 CAST EXISTS FOR THE ENTIRE SHOW— SO THE LATER SEASONS HAVE MORGAN AND HOTCH.

also sorry this is a long

TW: body image issues, discussions of food & weight, insecurity, crying, kissing

WC: 1.5k

-

You know, pragmatically, that you have nothing to worry about. Spencer chose you. And for the past four years, Spencer has worshipped you every day— again and again. He is the most loving, considerate, and tender partner you could ever wish for. He is near perfection.

You’ve met Spencer's friends many times. You’re not close with either of your parents, so the team of profilers welcomed you into their arms with grace and care. Each and every one of them is beautifully amazing and exceptionally brilliant.

Spencer‘s friends are not only badass, but they’re also gorgeous. JJ, Emily, and Garcia are national treasures— so visually stunning it’s almost sickening.

You knew he used to have a crush on JJ way before he met you. You’ve also heard the tale of Lila Archer, the celebrity actress who made out with your boyfriend in a pool. Spencer’s had an eventful life, full of beautiful, sweet, magnificent women— so why does he choose you?

You view yourself as bland in comparison. What do you have to offer Spencer that he can’t find elsewhere? You don’t have toned abs, slim hips, and slender arms. You’re not striking in any way.

Spencer calls you every night when he’s away on a case. He’s never missed a call, even when he got shot in the neck and kidnapped by a murderous cult. He’s reliable and consistent, and that eases your worries a little bit.

It’s eleven pm in D.C. and your phone rings right as your getting in bed.

“Hi, my love,” Spencer says breathily, his voice slightly muffled by the phone. He’s away in Ohio for a case.

“Hey.” You reply, the sweetness in his voice soured by your mood. “How’s the case going?”

“Good. JJ and I are about to pass out in our beds— we’re so tired.”

You can’t help the way your face drops. “Oh. Well, get rest.”

Your about to hang up before he interjects. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why?” You know better than to lie to your boyfriend, who happens to be an expert on human behavior.

“Okay, I know a lie when I hear one. (Y/N), baby, what’s wrong?” He pleads.

You can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek. “God, I’m sorry. I just miss you so much. You always know what to do when I’m feeling like shit.”

Spencer knows how much you struggle with self and bodily acceptance. He hates the world for making you feel anything less than incredible, both inside and out.

“I miss you too, so much, (Y/N).” His voice is thick as if he’s going to start crying too. “I love you so much, so fucking much. You have no idea how beautiful and amazing you are.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He laughs through a sob that wrecks his body. “You deserve everything in this world. I promise to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. You are the love of my life.”

You wipe the tears from underneath your eyes. “Sorry for keeping you up. You must be tired.”

“Never, if it means I get to talk to you.”

“I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). More than you’ll ever know.”

-

Spencer wakes up the next day with a newfound determination. The team solves the case as fast as possible, and by the end of the night, they’ve boarded the jet back home.

Spencer has more than enough hours to think about you and how much you mean to him. Hotch is seated directly across from him, rereading the case files.

“Hotch?” The wiser man looks up from his files, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer pauses for a moment. Maybe he’d be better asking Morgan or JJ for advice, considering Hotch’s tragic circumstances regarding Haley.

But no one loves like Hotch does-- sincerely, passionately-- stronger than anything else in the world. Spencer decides there’s no one better to ask.

“How uh did you know that Haley was the one?”

Hotch’s eyes soften for a bit. He clears his throat. “I knew since the day I met her that I would love her for the rest of my life unconditionally. She makes me complete. Do you feel that (Y/N) makes you complete?”

He already knows why Spencer is asking for his advice, steering the conversation in that direction.

“Yes. She’s my world.” Spencer whispers.

“Then it’s simple, really. Love doesn’t need to be complicated and precise. It’s what you do with it that matters.”

“I want to marry her, Hotch. I want to be with her for the rest of my life.”

Hotch smiles, “Then do it.”

Spencer feels the rush of excitement as he gathers everyone on the jet, including the prior sleeping passengers, filling them in on his big plans.

“I need all of your guys’ help.”

-

There’s a firm knock on your door at four in the morning. You know it isn’t Spencer because he has a key, but who could it be?

You take a cautious look out of your peephole to find Penelope, Emily, and JJ outside.

“What are you guys doing here?” You yawn. “For god's sake, it’s four am.”

“We know, and we’re sorry.” Penelope smiles.

“Is Spencer alright?” You ask, wondering if things suddenly went wrong during the case.

But by the joyous look on their face, you know nothing somber occurred.

“Spencer’s completely fine. But, we need to you to get changed and come with us. FBI’s orders.” JJ chuckles.

You change into warmer clothes in minutes, and the BAU ladies usher you into Emily’s car as fast as possible.

“So, no ones gonna tell me what’s going on?”

They shake their heads, “We’re just... running a quick errand.”

After a few more minutes of driving, Emily parks on the side of a dimly lit street.

“I need you to put this on.” She says, holding up a blindfold.

“Are you guys gonna murder me?” You joke, slipping the fabric over your eyes with little resistance.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” You don’t have time to think about what Penelope means before you’re being yanked out of the car.

You walk, guided by JJ, for four minutes. The grass beneath you crushes below your boots, and the hushed whispers of Emily and Penelope behind you do nothing to calm your nerves.

“Okay,” JJ says, halting to a stop. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

You hesitantly slip the blindfold off, revealing a brightly lit table in the middle of a secluded field. Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi are standing off to the sides.

Suddenly, Spencer emerges from behind a tree, dusting the leaves and dirt off his adorable sweater.

“Hi?” You laugh, utterly confused by this situation. “What’s going on?”

His hands are shaking, and he has to swallow a few times before he can speak. “I-I uh got y-you apple pie— uh your favorite.”

Spencer walks you towards the table, where a small slice of warm pie sits lonely on the table.

“Y-you should um... eat it.” He urges, pointing at the knife and fork next to it.

You glance around, trying to gauge the emotions of everyone around you, but fail. Stupid profilers and their poker faces.

Your fork cuts into the heavenly smelling pie, and you scoop up a bite into your mouth.

“It’s... good? I’ll pretty much eat any pie you give me, Spencer.”

He smiles, “I know that. But t-this is a special pie.”

“Okay...”

“You should t-take a closer look— at the pie.”

You inspect the dessert, completely puzzled until a glinting piece of silver catches your eye. Spencer notices the shock in your face and catches the plate that almost falls out of your hand.

Morgan hands him a napkin, and when Spencer pulls an apple-covered ring from the slice of pie, you almost faint.

“No way.” You gasp; tears spring to your eyes as Spencer wipes the ring clean.

He holds it tightly between two fingers, bending to kneel on one knee.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), I knew from the moment I met you that you were the most special woman I’d have the pleasure of meeting. A month later, you asked me out for our first date, and I couldn’t believe that someone as gorgeous and amazing as you would settle for someone like me.” You scoff at his humility.

“I spend every moment loving every part of you, (Y/N). None of my love will ever stop— ever. I promise to share my heart with you until the very end. There is absolutely no one I would rather be bonded to for the rest of my life. You are better than my dream girl because you’re real. You’re here, and you chose to love me every day— the good, the bad, and the ugly. (Y/N), will you do me the honor and great privilege of allowing me to become your husband?” You silently sob.

“Please say yes.” Spencer smiles.

“Yes!” You exclaim, pulling him up to hug him. “How could I say anything but!”

The dam breaks, and the entire team begins to cry as you and Spencer share a passionate kiss, almost collapsing down onto the grass from the sheer force of your love. He slips the ring onto your finger; it belongs there.

“I choose you, (Y/N).” He repeats.

“I choose you, Spencer, always.” You whisper into the crook of his neck.

Nothing’s ever felt so right.

[spencersmagic]

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

**

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

**

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

**

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :) 

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x​ @spencerreid-mgg​​ @eoupe​ @inlovewithbabygirl​ @galaxydefenderjulia​ @username2002​

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

No future with a boy like this - F.W

Summary: Fred disappoints you more than once, giving you no other choice, you had to let him go.

Warnings: ANGSTY, cursing, implied sex very briefly, FLUFF AT THE END

A/N: my firsts time writing angst and I really don’t know if i was overdramatic or not enough dramatic lol please give feedback

April- 1996 - Hogwarts

Y/n was waiting on the tribune next to the quidditch field. It was already getting darker now. An orange glow spreading over the field. The sun was going down already. She was sitting there for two hours now.

She promised herself she would stop waiting after an hour but here she was, still hoping he would show up.

It was her birthday, it was her fucking birthday. And this wasn't the first time. It started with little dates, he forgot them sometimes but y/n didn't mind, he made it up every time.

He hurt her by forgetting those things all the time. But it was Fred Weasley after all. You knew this was coming when he became your boyfriend. You even got used to it. He was always busy. That's just how Fred is.

And here she was again. Trying to not let the tears of disappointment fall down on her cheeks. She felt miserable and decided to finally call it a night, going back to her dorm. She was exhausted.

Walking down the corridors, she saw Fred. He was just sitting there, laughing with George. That's when it was clear, he wasn't even late, he just forgot.

He saw her and smiled, walking her way, but she turned on her heals immediately. "Y/n!" he screamed confused. He followed her and his long legs made it easy to catch up.

She didn't answer, finding it much harder to hold back her tears now. "Y/n? Hey? What's wrong?" he asked.

Y/n stopped abruptly. "You really don't know?" she hissed.

A confused look formed on his face. "What do you mean"? he stammered. A tear fell down her cheek and his face was full of guilt now, without even knowing what he did.

"You forgot", you snapped, "again!"

He was thinking for one minute. It really took him one minute. What was wrong with that boy?!

Suddenly a wave of realization hit him. "Fuck." he squealed.

Y/n didn't need this shit right now, and ran away before he could say something. Making him run after her. "NO y/n wait! I'm so sorry, I won't forget next time, I promise, I'm so sorry" he begged while grabbing her arm, pulling her closer to him.

"You say that every time Fred" she sighed, another tear fell down.

It broke Fred's heart. It really did. He didn't mean to forget this things, he didn't want to hurt you. His mind was just so full all the time. So many things were going on in those brains of his.

"I mean it, I'm sorry, I love you y/n" he assured.

And she fell for it, like she always did. It happened every time. Fred said things that made her melt, and she forgave him. It was nothing new. Because how could she not? The sweet boy didn't mean to hurt her, she knew that, everyone knew that.

But still, her friends warned her. There was no future with a boy like this. It couldn't stay like this. So she swore to herself this was the last time. She made that clear to Fred too.

Because what if he's the love of her life? Her future? This was her last year after all, y/n’s future was right in front of her. What if Fred was her future? You both couldn't give that up.

May- 1996 - Hogwarts

Everything was alright.

They were okay.

And Fred hasn’t been late for a whole month, sounds like nothing special but to him and her it was.

This weekend y/n was going home, and not just home, but with Fred.

After a year it was time for him to meet her parents. Fred claimed he was the perfect son in law, so he didn’t hesitate to agree. Y/n was nervous and excited at the same time.

Ready in her dorm, with a portkey, she had her favourite sundress on. She was waiting for Fred but he didn’t show up. Okay it was only 15 minutes now, but with their little history it made her nervous. She was absolutely sure Fred wouldn’t forget this. He can’t forget this.

20 minutes later she was still waiting.

No. This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be.

And then, she found a note under her potionsbook. After reading only one word, she was already furious, a growing heat filling her cheeks.

Dear y/n, love

I remembered. I swear. But I just won’t make it. I’m not feeling okay and I think I might have a fever or something. I don’t want to make you or your parents sick, so I’m staying in my dorm.

I love you, kisses Fred x

She didn’t really know what to think. She was so disappointed, again.

But she could’t blame her boyfriend for feeling sick. Although she had her doubts, what if this wasn’t true, maybe he lied because he did forget it?

No, no, she had to trust him. Fred wouldn’t lie to her. So she grabbed the portkey and went to visit her parents.

Alone.

-

When she traveled back to Hogwarts it was late already, past midnight. Y/n hoped Umbridge wouldn’t catch her.

The corridors were empty, completely silent. This was not unusual. Most of the students were already asleep this late on a Sunday.

Unexpectedly, she heard gigles and laughs coming from around the corner. Did it come from the library? It couldn’t be. Not at almost 1 am.

She went closer to listen. Y/n placed her ear on the door. Was it... Was it...? No. No.

Did she hear Fred’s voice?

She really hoped she was just imagining this. Maybe she should trust Fred more.

But just checking won’t hurt right?

So she tried to open the door. It was locked.

“Alohamora” she whispered.

What she saw broke her heart into a million pieces.

Angelina sat on a table, with Fred extremely close to her, giggling. George and Lee were there too.

She couldn’t believe her own eyes. Looking silently in Fred’s shocked ones.

“Fuck” he sighed. “Y/n-“ he tried.

But she cut him off before he could say anything. “No, I don’t wanna hear another silly explanation from you, it’s enough, I don’t want to see you ever again” she screamed with tears in her eyes, making her vision blurry.

Y/n ran away, faster than ever so Fred couldn’t catch up this time.

“Stop!! Stop!” she heard him scream behind her.

She ran and ran, not even knowing were to.

“Let me explain” another scream followed.

That’s when she ended up in a corridor she didn’t know. A dead end. Ofcourse.

She gave up and stopped. Fred ended in front of her, breathing loudly, trying to catch his breath.

“Baby I-“ he tried

“Don’t call me baby, this is over” y/n cut him off.

Fred was speachless, for the first time in history. He didn’t realise this truly happened. He knew what he did wasn’t okay, but he never expected her to actually broke up with him. It just didn’t occur in his mind this was a possibility.

“But.. but...” he stuttered. “I swear, I can explain, what you’ve just seen, it wasn’t what you think it is. I’ve told you about the shoppe George and I want to open, right? It’s actually going to happen. We’re leaving hogwarts. That’s what we were doing, we were planning things. Tomorrow we’re going to blow up Umbridge, no not literally blow up, but with lots of firework! And then we’re going to open the shoppe together. It’s my dream y/n!” he rambled excited.

Y/n sighed. Understanding why he did this, but it didn’t change a thing.

“That actually makes things worse Fred. I’m happy your dream will come true. But you’re leaving and I’m finishing my year. When are you going to have time for me if you run a shop? You didn’t even have time for me now.” she cried.

Both of them were crying now. Knowing the break up was really going to happen. Fred wanted to keep fighting. But he knew she might be right.

A little sob left his mouth, something he never did before. She was right. He truly loved her but he couldn’t give her the happy future she deserved. He wasn’t right for her, he didn’t treat her the way she should’ve been treated. And the idea broke him. And that’s when she walked away.

They didn’t see each other again afterwards.

The next day, y/n laid in her bed when she heard fireworks, knowing what happened. She couldn’t go outside and watch...

Happy screams and laughs filled the castle. And that’s when she realised Fred and George were gone now. It was reality now. They won’t come back. Although a little part of her hoped they would stay. A little part of her thought Fred would come to her, begging her to stay with him. But she guessed he just didn’t love her enough.

After all the times Fred broke her heart, she was kind off used to it. But those heartbreaks couldn’t ever overcome this one.

August - 1996 - Diagon Alley

The summer was almost over, y/n graduated two months ago. The heartbreak still hurted but she was better now. She still didn’t know what to do now that she’s graduated.

Hermione decided you two had to go shopping. “It’ll make you happier” she stated like it was an actual fact. Y/n couldn’t say no of course.

Y/n’s breath hitched. A big clone of Fred’s face right in front of her (or George). This had to be their joke shoppe. God, it was more impressive than she expected. Guess you should never underestimate the twins.

“Let’s go inside y/n!” Hermione announced excited, grabbing her arm trying to puch her inside.

“Oh no no no no no, I don’t think that’s a great idea” she hesitated.

“Don’t worry, it’s so busy, Fred won’t see you” she promised her. Y/n sighed. She really didn’t want to go inside. She’d love to see the shoppe, but seeing Fred...

Whatever, it was true. It was so busy so Fred won’t ever notice her.

They entered, y/n was surprised, it was wonderful. Fred and George must have worked so hard to get to this point. God, she loved the place.

It brought back memories. All those joke products, most of them were used on her, she remembered. Fred thought it was hilarious to prank her literally all the time, being proud because it was something he invented himself. She couldn’t be mad about it, it made him so happy.

The place even smelled like him.

Y/n took a deep breath trying to gather all of the smell, in hope it would stay in her nose, so she could remember it back home.

She closed her eyes and imagined how it could be, if they didn’t broke up. How she would probably come here everyday to say hi, how she would watch Fred all day doing his job.

And then... she saw him. In his uniform, he stood there proudly on the stairs above her. Smiling happily, seeing all those laughing people because if his work.

He was happy. Fred missed y/n but he was happy. He thought a lot of all the things he did wrong. Although he didn’t really have time to worry.

Y/n sighed, it’s been months. Her heart was glowing inside her chest. She didn’t even feel sad any more. This was what her boyfriend always dreamt of. Her ex-boyfriend.

She turned around deciding it was not smart to look at the beautiful boy, the boy who still made her knees go weak.

Fred’s smell was more vibrant than before now. Almost like he was right in front of me.

Ow, love potions, of course.

Of course she still smelled Fred in it.

“I smell honey, flowers and vanilla soap” she heard a familiar voice whispering in her ear, almost making her jump.

“F-fred, hey” she stuttered, in shock by the fact he’s standing right in front of her.

“You look great, changed your hair” he smiled. It was true, y/n cut her hair a little shorter and decided to give it a lighter colour for the summer. The typical breakup haircut.

“Fred do you want to... talk... please?” she asked, knowing it wasn’t a great idea. She wanted to just run away after she realized what she said.

“We could go upstairs, talk in my appartment”

October- 1996 - Diagon Alley

“Come on darling, George opened up already!” Fred screamed running through his kitchen while jumping, trying to get his pants on. He grabbed an apple as breakfast.

Y/n ran to the kitchen too. “I thought you changed the being late thing” y/n joked, yes they joked about it now.

“You were the one holding me up this time” he smiled adding a wink. “You just can’t resist me in the bedroom” y/n answered daring.

She grabbed him by his collar, pressing a kiss on his lips. “I have no choice with the sexiest girlfriend in the word” Fred grinned, pressing kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Baby, you’re wearing your uniform backwards” he laughed.

Y/n worked at the shoppe now too.

When she asked Fred to talk, they actually talked for hours. They talked about what went wrong in their relationship, about what they had been doing in those months they broke up, talked about how they still had feelings,...

And after two hours they made up. Both being happier than ever, deciding they learned from their break up.

Fred asked her to come live in his apartment and work in their shop too. Y/n didn’t hesitate for a moment. She designed their boxes or packages and talked to costumers. But most of all she distracted Fred by rolling her uniforme skirt up and bowing down to ‘grab’ something. Sometimes he took her back to the appartment because he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Y/n now knew, the breakup was necessary. You both learned. And now you’re happier than ever.

Because after all, Fred was your future.

***

[achillieus]

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, heavy sexual references, implied depression, infidelity, this one is very angsty, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, this part is not my favorite but it also is

part: 4/6

(other parts)  (masterlist)

When you both go to sleep that night,

What you say to yourselves:

It is just a kiss.

The truth:

Sebastian can’t forget your scent and your taste. And it’s everywhere. And it’s everything. He’s not sure if he can breathe anymore. He tries to put himself together but he loses; he lets a moan escape his quivering lips, as he comes hard, alone in bed, your lips a picture in his head.

You can’t forget his warmth. He’s long gone but his heat is making your body sweat. And it’s becoming annoyingly addictive. You try to fall into a dreamless sleep but you can’t. You grab onto your sheets, trying to shallow down his name when you have two fingers inside you.

It’s a study in remorse and guilt.

/

“Please breath,” you whisper in front of the bathroom mirror. “Breath in. And out.”

It’s been two days and one night since the doomed night. You have not heard of him ever since.

Your heart beats with the power of war tambours. You want to find him and tell him you’re sorry. You want to promise you don’t mean to cause any trouble to him. You want to let him know you don’t belong in his life. He will pass through you like cars pass red lights.

Violently.

“I’ll find him tomorrow.” You lie down and rest. “I’ll tell him everything tomorrow.”

/

Argyris can see the disorder reflecting in Sebastian’s eyes the second they pass in front of your door.

The Romanian drops his eyes on the floor and quickens his pace. Argyris is smart enough to not comment on it; at least not when they have an all night shooting in a while. He doesn’t want to distress him.

He doesn’t have a choice though; because Sebastian stops as soon as they reach the third floor.

“I’ve made such a mess.”  His voice can’t give away how nauseous he feels.

Argyris exhales loudly. This is precisely what he was afraid of. This is precisely what he had warn you both about.

“It’s not the right time” he starts quietly “We have a lot to do.”

Sebastian sighs.

He feels as though there will never be a right time for the two of you.

/

You can’t sleep. The sky is dark behind your closed windows. It’s almost four in the morning and everything around you is quiet; until it’s not anymore.

You can hear people laughing as they enter the building and you can hear the lady from the first floor yelling at them.

Suddenly you’re thankful for the terrible insulation as the whole place grows alive at the sound of noise. You’ve grown tired of silence.

You slowly open your door. You want to hear more.

Argyris is trying to apologize when the old woman starts calling them uncivil. You want to laugh.

But then you hear steps coming closer and, in a breath, he’s standing right in front of you.

“Did we wake you up?”

The others are still arguing in the lobby.

No, I couldn’t sleep, too busy thinking of your lips.

“Yes. All the noise scared me.”

He comes closer. He tries to clear his head of images he creates at night. Images with you.

“I’m sorry.” He says and it sounds like his chest feels lighter afterwards “I’m sorry for the noise.”

You nod, a blank expression across your face.

“We went for a few drinks after the shooting and people got drunk and dragged themselves hear to continue the party. It’s not Argyris’ fault.”

You turn your head away from him. You don’t dare to look at him for a long time.

“I can bet that.” Your words feel heavy inside your mouth. “He has never caused any trouble before you came.” Your words feel bitter inside your mouth.

He laughs. He calls your name. It makes your throat dry.

“You can see that I’m not the one who’s drunk and arguing downstairs.”

The space between you two starts to dwindle.

“You should go.” You whisper. “There is no reason for you to be here.”

He says nothing for a while. He just stays there looking at you with an unreadable expression. His breathing hits your face. It feels cold.

“Right.” He answers, building his guard back up, posture fixed and face blank.

And then with one last glance he leaves you alone.

/

You wake up not much later, the sun meeting the horizon.

You clean the kitchen and you water your flowers. You decide to take a walk. You haven’t done that in a very long time.

Not a lot of people are awake at that time. The streets are almost empty. You find that comforting. You pass the familiar streets and there’s a heady feeling in the air; the mouthwatering smell of fresh bread in the small bakery, the sound of a dog barking and an old man carrying around a barrel organ.

Lately you seem to forget how much beauty there’s around. Lately you seem think true beauty is only a pair of light eyes and the sound of a foreign accent. You feel selfish; your ardor for him has blinded you and everything seems too little.

You feel stupid.

/

And then you blink and it’s Sunday and you remember Argyris telling you they’re leaving on Monday to shoot scenes in some islands. You can’t decide if you want them to leave sooner or never at all.

The latter makes you forget to breath.

You take a shower. But water never washes tears completely away. They stick to your body and your pores like leeches.

The white towel feels rugged against your skin and you think of throwing it in the trash can. You don’t.

Instead, you get dressed and make a sandwich for dinner.

A knock at your door stops you.

You’ve missed that sound.

You close your eyes.

You feel as if you’re being thrown back in time, to the first time he came at your doorstep.

There’s another knock.

Maybe it’s not him. You take a step. Even if it’s him, it’s a dead end. You place your fingers around the handle, without making any motion to unlock.

You stand there for some seconds. There’s no more knocking. You smile at yourself. You were always good at hiding behind closed doors. Maybe not good enough; because now you can hear him talk.

“I’m glad you’re not here” his voice makes it sound like he’s aching “Or that you’re here and don’t want to open up.”

Your hand swifts around the knob.

“I’m glad, because if I was looking at you right now I would-”

He stops when he meets your gaze. You’re close now. And it’s hard not to wrap your arms around him, but you force yourself to just look straight ahead and do nothing.

“You would what?” You voice sounds like a mourning song.

You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair and lets a quite sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

He laughs and it’s dry and sharp. And then he grabs you by the shoulder and you’re both inside your apartment and he closes the door with a shudder.

His eyes are swollen and for a moment you’re scared. Only for a moment.

“Yes I am.” He still has his arm around your shoulder. “What do you want me to say? That I would do everything? That I would kiss even your eyelids?”

You’re shivering. You feel almost sick.

“I can’t say any of those things.” He swallows hard around the lump in his throat.

You look at him starry-eyed. 

“You can.” You’re stepping closer to him. “You can say everything. There’s no one here. Just us.”

“That’s not enough.”  He says, with a look that promises all the sorrow and the suffering in the universe.

Your face splits.

“Then why did you come?”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“We’re leaving tomorrow.”

I know, you almost say. But he talks again, before you can say anything.

“I want you to come with us.”

You feel like choking on the world’s most expensive rosé. You start coughing.

He caresses your forehead, tucking some hair behind your ears.

“No, Sebastian, this is bad.”

His fingers can feel a tear dripping down your eyes and your cheeks and your lips. Slowly. He’s not certain if it’s yours or his.

“I know.” He blinks. “But we don’t have much time. And I want to be around you. We can try to be friends again.”

There's a feeling in your stomach that makes you want to throw up when he says the word friends. It makes your mouth taste sour. It's pathetic.

“I don’t know if I can do that.” You murmur.

And then his eyes pierce through yours.

And you think of that evening that you saw his eyes for the very first time. And you think how this version of events had never crossed your mind back then. Ever.

This was not supposed to happen.

You were not supposed to grow close to him.

And he was not supposed to show you the stars and dry out your salty tears.

And you were not supposed to kiss him.

And now he was not supposed to go.

“Please, promise me you’ll try to be friends with me.” He breaths into your lungs. “Promise me you’ll come.”

You smile softly. It reminds him of something sweet, like honey and cherries.

“I can try.”

Sebastian can feel his heart almost stop; like a clock that’s reminding him you do not have much time left together. This month will come and go and so will he.

And his heart knows.

So, he presses his forehead against yours and mumbles a sincere thank you.

It sounds poetic. But it’s more of a war declaration.

/

When you agreed to go with him on the trip, Sebastian fell into a world of bliss and anticipation. He had been worried you wouldn’t want to see him again after everything that occurred between you two. He had spent nights sleepless, just lying awake and trying to fathom things.

But not tonight. Tonight, he’s packing his bags and dreaming of the sea and you.

The sea. And you. Those are the things he loves most right now.

Love. It’s funny because sometimes Sebastian thinks he could have fallen in love with you, if only time allowed. But he has less than two months. He has calculated everything.

( 60 days )

( 59 nights )

He’ll probably never see you again afterwards.

He knows you were never meant to be.

He sighs.

The screen of his phone lights up and he’s certain it’s his girlfriend, because it’s 3am in Greece. Who else could it be? And that gives him an ache because he loves his girlfriend. But not right now.

He’s wrong though, it’s a message from you.

I’m sorry. I can’t come with you tomorrow. I’m sorry.

His heart falls.

It’s funny because sometimes Sebastian thinks he could have fallen in love with you, if only you allowed. Sometimes he thinks it’s better this way.

/

You read your message again and again. Your eyes scan each world like your whole life depends on them. You can’t go to the trip. It’d be like you set yourself up only to fall apart some time later. And you’d have no excuse. You don’t even know why you had said yes to him in the first place.

Perhaps because that’s what Sebastian wanted to hear and you love Sebastian. It’s very painful and all kinds of fucked up, but you do.

At first you try to close your eyes to it. You think, whatever it is between you, it’s not love. It must be something else.

But it’s not.

You always knew that.

Your heart splits at the realization.

/

Everyone is drinking and dancing. They finished shooting last night and Argyris decided to throw a small beach party. Once upon a time, Sebastian would have been thrilled about it. He always loved partying.

But those were the old days. All he can think about now, is a girl with braided hair and nails painted dark blue. That’s how you looked the last time he saw you.

It’s been a week since that time. It’s been a week and he’s getting desperate. And his curly haired co-star is moving her body too close for his liking. He’s trying to flee.

The woman smiles at him. He knows she probably asks for more than he can give. She smiles at him and she looks beautiful, so beautiful. He almost thinks it’s unfair and selfish of him to ignore such a beautiful smile.

But the woman’s hair is curly and not in a braid. And her nails are painted red instead of dark blue.

/

You don’t see him for one more week. You want to send him a message. Call him. Do something. You do nothing but check his Instagram profile almost every hour. It’s sort of becomes a habit.

At your room the walls whisper and scream about that night you fell asleep next to each other. You try not to listen.

Some nights you can picture him smiling at you and his smile feels far too heavy. Some nights you try to imagine a version of him that could grow old with you.

You can’t.

/

It’s 8:10 am. The first time you meet again. You call the elevator on your floor and when the door opens, he’s there. You didn’t even know he was back, before now. You almost get out and take the stairs instead. You hide yourself at the corner as far from him as possible. Sebastian notices for the first time how small you look.

“When did you come back?” Your mouth opens before you can stop it.

He turns to look at you. You can see he has a little tan. It looks great on him. Dammit.

“Last night.”

Your hands are shaking. You’ve missed his voice. Dammit.

Two more floors. You can make it.

You wait for him to turn his back at you again, but he doesn’t.

“Not coming with me,” his breathing breaks and his throat dries out instantly and he feels on the verge of collapsing “It didn’t help.”

It takes you a while to get what he’s saying. Why he’s saying it.

The elevator stops.

“Did it help you?” No, of course not.  

“Sebastian, please.”

You try to say something more but his voice stops you.

“Do you know any quiet places?”

You nod.

“Take me.” You shiver. “Please.”

The door opens and he grabs your hand.

You think you’ll never really understand Sebastian. He’s been so many people with you. A pretty face on screen, a stranger and then a friend. And then a lover? Maybe.

Something intimate, anyway.

Intimate, in the way pain is.

/

You’re at a small park just behind your house.

His hair has grown the last few days and he’s playing with a strand. You watch him and he watches back. He puts one hand in the pocket of his jeans and another at your cheek.

You had almost forgotten how it feels. Soft and rugged simultaneously. Almost like a transfusion, it revives you.

“We’ve screwed up, haven’t we?” His voice sounds like an old song.

You think you can hear your bones straining under the weight of his words.

“Yes, I guess we have.” You try to smile at him. Your lips don’t move upwards though. They can’t. You can feel your eyes get wet.

Sebastian can’t bear looking at you like that. He puts his hand behind your neck and brings you closer.

At that moment, by falling into his arms, you lost the battle.

Your body is cold, worn down by all the sleepless nights. You’re not sure he knows exactly what you feel at this moment. Neither do you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the trip.”

“I understand.” He nods.

“Sebastian,” His breath hitches when you call his name. “I don’t know if I want to see you again.”

Lies.

He blinks. You don’t.

His face looks like he’s about to growl. Then his features relax.

A tear falls down your cheek and he’s quick to swipe it away. His eyes soften.

“I know,” he says in a whisper “We just keep hurting each other.”

You laugh bitterly. “When did I hurt you, Sebastian?” You push his hands away from your body. He doesn’t fight it.

He lets out a shaky breath.

“We spent the night together and you left without even saying something.” Your eyes are wide and rabid. “You keep acting like we’re something special and you have a girlfriend back home. And when I kissed you,” you pause for a second, remembering everything. “You kissed me back.”

You’re talking a little too loud. An old man passing by, turns to look your way. Your cheeks flash red.

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Your heart clenches. “I’m so sorry. I needed you to kiss me.”

He takes your hands in his. He looks at you half like he wants to apologize, half like he wants to kiss you again. Maybe, he does.

“Every time I see you, I want you to kiss me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.” Surprisingly his voice is steady and his hands grab yours tighter than before.

“It can’t be the truth.” You exhale roughly. “It will ruin everything.”

He looks at you for a while and then he does the most human thing possible; he wraps his arms around you. You hide your face at the crook of his neck.

Your breath hits his skin and it’s warm and tender.

“Not us.” He whispers in your hair. “It will save us.”

At that moment, Sebastian lost every battle.

/

Things you felt when Sebastian kissed you later that evening:

Divinity and tragedy. The feeling of going over the speed limit. The despair in his mouth. The booming in his heart. Fear for the distant future. His arms creating a shelter from the rest of the world. Affection. And affection. And affection.

Thing Sebastian felt when he kissed you later that evening:

Your heartache in his hands. The faded cherry lip balm in your lips. Your nails digging into his skin. A raw satisfaction. Madness and power. Your warmth making his heart beat fast. Freedom. And love, so much love.

/

It was never his intention to cheat on his girlfriend. Sebastian is not that kind of man. But then again, everyone is.

You try not to think about that while his mouth devours the skin above your collarbones. It makes your pores sweat and your core beat. Time spins by as you both lay on your bed.

It feels like he’s a sweet lover. Dewy eyes and warm fingertips. He makes love to you at sunset, when dreams start to form and cotton sheets stick to his skin. Yearning gets the best of him, his movements become sharper, his bones turn to steel.

You don’t mind. That’s what you need right now. Burning lips at the curve of your hips. You can almost taste it; the silage of his after shave. Eucalyptus. That’s what he tastes like.

/

He’s drawing archways in your skin. He touches the part between your breasts. Softly and gently at first. And then digging his teeth. He wonders if you want this as much as he does. It’s nearly tearing him apart. His ribs and his lungs are full of eagerness and you.

You, you, you.

To him, there’s nothing to do but kiss every inch of your body.

He knows there’ll be a cacophony soon. You’re both equipped with love that has an expiration date. But he wants to beat time. He wants to feel all of this for as long possible. For a minute, he becomes greedy. He wishes everyone would die, so that he and you could live in this world alone. But together.

It takes great strength to shake this thought out of his head.

“Please,” You say between heavy breaths and he's getting worried he's going to tell you he loves you. “Please I need you Seb.”

You've never called him that before. He can't decide if he likes that or the fact that you need him, more. He complies.

You feel him inside you as he's stroking between your thighs. You close your eyes, his heated sounds soothing everything. Your lips are red, from you biting at them.

He looks at you, with his hungry face and he finds everything about you so delicate and so beautiful.

He can keep going forever.

You're grateful.

/

Lying naked in your bed, you’re watching him struggle to keep his fevered blue eyes open. His hands still tangled in your hair.

The room smells of sweat and eucalyptus and everything in the universe feels softer.

“I think I love you.” He says, and as he falls asleep, he smiles. “I’ll tell you when I’m sure.”

“Please don’t.” That’s the most selfless you’ll ever be in your life.

/

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