#the dodie song is acceptable too

[rcarx]

Tagged by @gleerant to spell my acc name with songs:

runaway by sasha sloan

christmas morning by luz

another love by tom odell (or affection by fiji blue i couldn't decide)

rainbow by dodie

x's and oh's by elle king yes i cheated

Tagging:

@offthebandwagon @myhumbleme @ahappilyexhaustedperson @wearysighs @orphanblaque @princington @julianavalds

if you want! or anyone who wants to do it!

[chaoticbardlady99]

Hello! I really enjoyed your fic with the Tav who couldn’t see well. It was really sweet! If you’re still accepting requests, may I request a similar one where the reader needs glasses to see and during a battle they break or get lost. Now they can’t see well and they’re trying not to panic while there’s threats everywhere, but thankfully Astarion notices something’s wrong and helps them. Thank you!

Admiring from Afar (GN! AFAB Reader x Astarion) Part 1- MDNI 18+ ONLY

Part Title is inspired by the song “She” by Dodie (I feel like it reflects Astarion’s POV/feelings towards Tav in this story)

This was not originally supposed to be as long as it is, but the concept started taking on a life of it's own. I hope you enjoy! I will hopefully be positing Part 2 within the next few days!

  CW: Angst (?), violence, jealousy, fluffy (hopefully very? But who knows), smut because apparently I’m in a giving mood (I’m sorry I had to make the joke.), MDNI 18+ only, dom/sub sexual relationship.

Note- this is Unascended Astarion x GN! reader

*This has been proof read one time. It is 2:04 am and I have work in 6 hours LMFAO

Gif belongs to- ibacchante from Tumblr!

    The campfire crackles in the distance and you think you even hear the faint sound of music.  You desperately yearn to be near the warmth of the fire talking to or watching one of your companions give a dramatic retelling of their experiences in battle.

  The warmth of your companions made places like the Shadow-Curse Land feel a lot less scary and foreign- they provide some normalcy in this strange journey. 

Unfortunately, you are hunched over in your cold tent with nothing but a light cantrip and your will power. You squint as you etch details into the oxen bone, taking the time to add the touches of silvery white dye to add an ethereal effect. Your hands cramp as you work to keep the paint within the designs you carved into the bone.

You have been painstakingly working on this necklace for a little over a month- maybe two? You have lost count at this point, but the calluses on your fingers tell you it’s been a while now since you started this project.

  You polish the bone with your cloth, wiping away the debris from your knife. You admire your handiwork; a perfect carving of the Elven Rune- Cadaith. You were able to create a loop at the top of the necklace for the long, thin, black leather strip you had been holding onto since the day after the Tiefling party- the same day you decided to take on this hand numbing project.

  You and your crew of oddballs had come through for the locals and obliterated the Goblin Camp Leaders- the tieflings had come to your camp and had decided to celebrate.

  It wasn’t that you were opposed to parties, but you’re not the most social person despite your profession as an Artisan. You miss the calm, quiet group of Druids you used to travel with- you even miss the hardwood floor of the Caravans and how much of a pain in the ass they were to fix. You miss not having to spend every waking moment and all of your strength on battling and the art of deception. You miss your tools and the landscapes you use to find your resources. You love to make crafts out of anything in the wild.

 Back to the rowdy tiefling party- again, you aren’t necessarily against parties, but they are overwhelming.

And the men! They are entirely too vulgar after a couple drinks. Silvanus help you if you had another drunk man stumble up to you and ask if he can, “fuck your brains out.” 

 Another man had begun to make his way towards you when you felt a cold hand grab you by the elbow and haul you off into the forest. It had been Astarion- who you had agreed to share a bed with that night. You had shared a bed before- after a camp party to celebrate killing Auntie Ethel, but nothing could have prepared you for the second time and how mind-blowing it would be (you had been excruciatingly awkward as it was your first time ever- he was pretty understanding thank Gods).

  “Astarion-”

  “Yes Darling?”

   He stops and looks at you- you look around and realize you are far from camp. You fiddle with your hands nervously- picking at your nails. 

“I um-” you clear your throat, “I really appreciate you- well- um… coming to my rescue, but I really don’t want to be a bother to you- you don’t need to stay wit-”

 You hadn’t been able to finish your sentence before he was gently kissing you. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your glasses are entirely foggy from your breathing and you smile at him coyly as he pulls away. He gives you a genuine, real laugh before taking your glasses off and wiping them clean for you. You put them on, your eyes back in focus as you avoid his eyes.

He leans in and begins kissing along your neck, along your jawline, and back to your lips. He kisses you roughly, his tongue flicking across your lower lip, asking for access. He lifts you up from under your thighs before backing you into a tree. 

  He grinds up into you- his erection pressed against the burning heat in your core. He pulls at your shirt strings and gives you a look as if to ask if he can continue. You grab his face in your hands and kiss him as an answer to his question. 

  He discards your shirt and makes quick work of your trousers and under garments- all while kissing you so deeply the world is spinning and your entire body feels numb. 

  Suddenly he has you on your back as he smiles down at you mischievously. You look away, embarrassed as he takes in the sight of your body; a breathy chuckle leaves his lips as he gets up and makes quick work of his own clothes.

 You feel the space between your legs grow warmer and needier as you watch him stroke himself before he settles himself between your legs. He presses soft kisses all over your face as he inserts a finger between your folds and begins to toy with your clit. You whimper and moan as he pumps his finger in and out of you.

  “Good girl,” he growls into your ear and inserts another finger, picking up the pace.

  A soft, gasp escapes your lips as your walls stretch to fit around his other finger- getting to the point of borderline tears as you feel your orgasm get closer and closer. Astarion watches you use a stream of profanities, your hands gripping the grass so hard it's ripping. He kisses you on your forehead then- he stops. 

 You keen in protest from the emptiness between your thighs, but your words die on your lips as he pushes himself all the way between your folds, all the way to the hilt. You claw at his back, a pleased whimper escaping your mouth. He begins to kiss your jaw before you capture his lips with yours- he’s still not moving inside of you as you kiss him feverishly- your hands entangling themselves in his hair. He groans against your lips, holding you down by your waist and not allowing you to move. When you attempt to move your hips upward, desperate to get some friction, he groans in your mouth before pulling out completely and then thrusting himself roughly back into you. You look at him in anticipation as he gets off of you, still inside you as he adjusts your left leg so that he can get more access and he begins to massage your sore, neglected nipples with his fingers. 

You are desperate for any movement from him and you can tell he knows it- even in your drunken haze. 

 “Please.”

“Please what, my dear?”

 He says before pulling out to thrust into you completely again. You cry out, tears streaming down your face as you look away from him, trying not to let him have the satisfaction.. 

  He hums as he roughly grabs your jaw, making you look him in the eyes.

 “Tell me, Darling,” a sly, teasing smile on his beautiful face, “do you want me to fuck your brains out?”

You nod and he pinches your nipples roughly- you arch your back and you feel him lift your hips up before spanking you hard.

"You don't get anything until you answer my question," he goads, his hand snaking it's way around your throat, "so tell me, do you want me to fuck your brains out?"

"Y-es. Yes I want you to fuck me ple-" he cuts you off with a snap of his hips.

He grabs your jaw roughly with his hands, "You know that's not what I asked you."

He begins to slowly move in and out of you, teasing you mercilessly. You groan in frustration- he knows he’s the only person who can say this to you and demand you to say it back to him.

"Please Astarion," you say tearfully, your need for pleasure taking over, "please fuck my brains out."

He smiles at you widely, "it would be my pleasure."

You whine and he pulls out of you, rolling you over onto your hands and knees. He comes up behind you and his hands find purchase in your hair as he begins to pound into your mercilessly. You lose yourself in pleasure- surely alerting everyone and their mothers to your activites- and if it's not the vulgar moans, it's the filthy sound of your bodies colliding.

He pulls you up to his chest by your hair, switching to putting his hand around the upper part of your throat, and puts his fangs to your neck, teasing the skin as he fucks up into you. You have one of your hands wrapped around his arm as he chokes you and the other is touching your clit- the coil of pleasure building up in your stomach as you whisper your consent between moans for Astarion to drink from you. He gives you a pleased hum in response.

The moment his fangs are piercing your neck is the same moment your orgasm rips through you and you have to fight not to slump against him. You feel his strong arms hold you up as he keeps fucking your sensitive mound, chasing his own orgasm. He stops sucking from the bite marks on your neck, lapping up the blood that begins to slowly trickle down towards your shoulders and chest. He let’s go of his grip on your throat and pushes you back onto your belly before roughly inserting himself inside you again.

"You are such a good girl," he grunts, "you are taking me so fucking well."

You begin to feel lightheaded when he finally cums inside you. Good thing you have a potion for that.

You both get your clothes on and he whisks you away to his tent- where you cuddled and talked for almost the entire night.

  The sex, as noted, is amazing, but you also enjoy so much more of him than just his body. You know Astarion struggles to believe you find anything about him interesting outside of sex, so you make a point of reminding him about all the other wonderful parts of him and you don't ever ask for sex or sexual favors. That ball is in his playing field as far as you are concerned.

You find yourself gravitating back to Astarion’s tent every night to listen about a new book he is reading or just to let him shower you with (arguably) questionable knowledge about the higher ups in Badlur's Gate . Sometimes you just talk about your lives, tangled in each other’s embraces, and falling asleep that way.

You had begun sleeping in the same tent shortly after he drank from you for the first time. You had been scared during a storm one night and he had heard you sniffling in your tent. You missed the safety of your Caravan during those first two weeks. 

  He had quickly dragged you over to his tent- griping about his hair, how “I told you that you needed better camping equipment”, and “really darling? Why are you wearing clothes with holes in them? No wonder you’re scared.”

    You have had an incredibly close bond ever since and you speak very freely with one another. You still become closed off every now and then (mostly from being socially and emotionally exhausted) but he was content to sit in the silence and just be in each other’s company. If he's in a grouchy mood, you sit with him in silence or let him just talk at you, and you support him when he wakes up from a particularly grueling nightmare. You rarely, if ever, go to your tent or stay in your tent anymore.

  However, your current passion project was not to be seen by his eyes until it was completely finished- hence the reason why you are in your freezing, semi abandoned tent. You enchant the amulet with “Invisibility” and after a test, you can proudly say your necklace for Astarion is ready.

  Shortly after the fight with the Goblins, Astarion had been complaining to you about how Gale “ate” the last necklace of Invisibility that they had found. 

  “He did call finders-keepers.”

 “Finders-keepers my ass, Darling. If he really believed that rule he wouldn’t have inhaled it the way he did right after finding it.”

  “It was rather unbecoming of him, wasn’t it?”

 “Cazador has done a lot of horrible, vile things to me over the last two centuries,” he scoffs, “but, Gale eating a perfectly good Amulet of Invisibility has somehow landed in the top 20 of worst things to happen to me.” 

  After that, you began your work on the Amulet and now that it’s finished- you get to give it to him.

 The idea makes your stomach turn. 

  What if he hates it?

  It’s not really his style, but you don’t make gaudy jewelry and you tried your best to make it look like it shimmers (you succeeded FYI, Nat 20 all the way). You hope he appreciates it on principle alone and doesn’t criticize you too harshly if he dislikes it. When you ran the idea by Karlach and showed her your sketch, she was immediately convinced that he would adore your gift.

“Don’t worry about a thing Soldier,” she said cheerily, “Fangs is going to adore it as much as he adores you!”

  You wrap the necklace in the nice, silk handkerchief and stuff it into the little leather bag. You take one final deep breath before pushing through the tent flap. You look around camp and see that mostly everyone is in their tent- Astarion included- but Wyll is by the fire dancing. You remember joking about him giving a demonstration for the camp. As you begin to walk towards Astarion’s tent- Wyll calls out to you.

 “Tav,” he says brightly, “join me for a dance?”

 Another thing you love about Astarion- he is very good at telling people ‘no’ for you. Yes, you should be sticking up for yourself and setting boundaries on your own. You are so wired to make everyone else happy that it impedes your ability to say no. Astarion is helping you learn and supports you when you freeze up, but Astarion is not here in this moment and if he hears what Wyll has said to you- he has made no indication of it.

  You smile tightly and put the pouch in your pocket before taking his hand. You are basically robotic as you go through the motions and yet- for some Gods forsaken reason Wyll plants a kiss right on your lips. As he pulls back and sees your look of absolute horror- he begins to apologize profusely. 

 “Honestly Wyll,” you awkwardly squeak out,”it’s totally fine. I just- um- well… I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.”

 “I understand and as disappointed as I am- I am grateful for your forgiveness and I hope we can remain friends.”

 You smile brightly, “Thank you Wyll and of course. Good night.”

 He bids you farewell and you walk with extra pep in your step. You set a boundary and you are over the moon excited to share with Astarion. 

  Except when you get inside the tent- all of your stuff is right in the entryway. Astarion has his back facing you and is pretending to be interested in a book. You frown.

 “Star?”

 “Oh don’t worry Darling- I figured I would save you the uncomfortable conversation,” he says with apathy in his voice, “we both know those aren’t your strong suite.”

  You flinch at his cold, blank tone and the harshness of his words. You feel yourself becoming consumed with confusion and hurt. Your hand is clutching onto the pouch in your pocket. He looks at you and he looks far away despite the smile on his face.

 “Well go along now, I’m sure your new lover is waiting for you. I’m happy for you honestly,” he pauses, giving you a cold, malicious grin, “pretending to be invested in this connection has really been bothersome these last couple weeks.”

  Logically, a part of you knows he is just jealous and is lashing out. You should stay and try to explain what happened- reassure him even? 

  Emotionally? You feel like you just got stabbed over and over again. Oh and then someone came up to you and used a shocking grasp. You try to open your mouth, the tears welling in your eyes as you look at him. 

  He just looks at you coldly, “Well, leave.”

  You wordlessly nod, dropping the leather pouch back into your pocket and you grab your things and numbly head back over to your tent. You roll out your bed roll and stare up at the dark tarp above your head; you let the tears stream down your face as silent sobs wrack your body. You already miss him.

 _________________________________________________

  You didn’t sleep well that night- you woke up with puffy eyes and a sore throat. You had spent the majority of the night freezing and jumping at every noise. You would get the occasional thirty minutes of sleep here and there, but if you weren’t scared awake, your bruised, broken heart woke you up. Your heart thumped unevenly all night- worried the bumps in the night were Astarion packing up his things and leaving. 

  Your chest aches as you get ready to leave and you are grateful that the Shadow-Cursed Lands are so poorly lit because it allows you to hide the rough night you have. You are also grateful to see Astarion is still here.

You, Astarion, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Wyll set out to explore more of the Shadowlands. Karlach told Astarion he didn’t have to go if he didn’t want to- you were too tired to say anything in response to his complaints and you suppose Karlach became fed up. He’s quiet after that, so quiet you think he might have left. Except you hear him chatting with Wyll during a short rest.

  Shadowheart walks happily next to you- chittering about Dark Justiciars and how she can feel Shar or whatever. You are just trying to focus on her and stop thinking about him. You have been successful in avoiding him and not looking at him for the entirety of the morning and you need to keep it that way. 

  _________________________________________________

   Astarion can’t place where in the conversation he went wrong, but the fight with Malus Thorm has been nothing short of a disaster. The Sisters are ruthless and Malus is much stronger than any of them anticipated at first glance.

  Astarion usually fights right at your side, but he assumes that your new lover will be keeping you safe. He suppresses the bile and tears that threaten to come up. He has your protection still and he knows that because Wyll would have thrown him out of camp otherwise. He was never meant to end up with you- you were always meant to be a means to an end.

If anything, he should be thrilled for you. Wyll is a good, decent man and much worthier of your affections than Astarion could ever be.

 So why does it hurt so fucking much? And why did he want to kick Wyll over a ravine when he kissed you?

He shakes the thought as he strikes down two more Sisters. He steals a glance in Wyll’s direction (to check on you) and immediately notices that you are nowhere in the premises and the Blade of Frontiers was battling with Karlach. Astarion scans the room in a frenzy of panic.

   He turns around just in time to see Malus lift you up by your neck and fling you into a column. Your glasses fell to the ground as your back makes contact with the stone and the sound of shattering bones echoes through the room as the Sisters begin to move forward.

 Astarion watches in horror as you are struggling to pop up and begin touching the floor around you , but by the time you seem to realize finding your glasses is a moot effort- the Sisters descend on you as Malus turns his attention to Wyll and Karlach.

  Wyll acknowledges what just happened, but doesn’t go to help you. Anger rips through Astarion like a wildfire as Wyll turns and tells Shadowheart you need help. He’s about to help Malus take out Wyll- until another scream for help pierces the air as you throw random cantrips at your attackers.

 Astarion rushes forward, cutting his way through the remaining Sisters in the middle of the room. He really could give a shit less at this time if it pisses Wyll off that he was the one who protected you- in fact, he’s probably going to be stabbing Wyll when you all get back to camp. 

  Astarion destroys the Sisters surrounding you in a flurry of gore and steel. He ignores his other companions as he searches for you frantically. 

  You had disappeared by the time he came to your aid. Astarion knows that you have a tendency to slip into your Cat form when you are particularly scared and can’t see- using the animal’s powerful nose to guide you away from danger. 

 Astarion goes near the beds and crouches down- a sigh escaping his lips. 

  All 8 pounds of you and your black fluff is crouched under the bed and you hiss in surprise when he clicks his tongue at you. You squint your eyes at him before sniffing the air. You cautiously walk forward and sniff his outreached hand. You begin to purr loudly and rub your head against his knuckles.

 He laughs with a mix of hysteria and joy as the realization that you are okay settles into his bones.

 “It’s okay Little Love, the Sisters are dead,” he says softly, “I’m so sorry, I should have been next to you. I just assumed a beast with such prowess as yourself would be able to fend for themselves.”

 You meow in indignation as you climb on top of him to bite the tip of his nose and he can’t help but laugh. 

“Does your ego hurt less now, Little Love?”

You give him an amused look that makes him bust out laughing again.

He had asked you once why you were just a Black domestic cat instead of a Panther. You had argued that you are just as ferocious as a Panther in that form. Not to mention, you would have a better chance of shooting an arrow straight than turning into a Panther, but you weren’t about to admit that (even though he knows). 

   Astarion scoops you up in his arms and pauses- the smell of your blood floods his senses. He grabs you by your scruff and you yelp as he inspects you for injuries. 

  You scratch at his hand and he drops you. You yowl in pain and leer at him as you begin to change back into your humanoid form. 

If Astarion was capable of feinting, this would have been that moment. He drops to his knees beside you and begins trying to find a healing potion to take the edge off.

  You have a compound fracture where your shin was and it’s bleeding heavily. Your right shoulder is out of place, your left wrist is twisted in an atypical fashion, and your left cheek is blooming with an angry, purple bruise. He winces when you inhale a sharp breath as you try to breathe in, clutching at your rib cage. 

He doesn’t catch the choked gasp that climbs up his throat in time- your eyes search for him in the dark before finally settling on him.

“Your beautiful eyes are really helpful when it’s blurry.”

Your voice is so tired and he can hear the pain in your voice.

“How come?”

“I can actually find you,” you pause, “you make me feel safe.”

  You look at him, your eyes glassy with shock. You smile brightly at him and he smiles brightly back at you. He never thought anyone would associate him with protection, safety. Your words echo in his brain.

You’re make me feel safe.

You go to say something again before you look at him with wide, scared eyes and promptly lose consciousness. The scream that comes out of his mouth is foreign to his own ears. It sounds fearful, angry- heartbroken. Astarion tries to shake you awake, yelling your name over and over.

 “Please wake up Darling- you’re safe,” he whispers through choked sobs, “come back to me please.” 

Nothing. He can barely tell if you are breathing still as your heart thuds softly in your chest. He calls for Shadowheart two, three, four more times.

"Please," he whimpers, "I don't want to have to be without you forever- I can't be."

  The weight of his words hits him like a train- his plan had well and truly failed. Under normal, non- life threatening emergency situations, he would probably panic about the strength of his emotions. Instead, he sits here begging for the chance to be able to tell you how he really feels. He wants to move so badly, to drag Shadowheart over here to heal you, but he can't bare to leave you in your vulnerable state. He keeps calling for Shadowheart- his voice begins to crack.

Astarion feels the worst of his anxieties vanish as you suddenly start taking long, ragged, tired breaths. He grabs a healing potion out of his pocket and tilts your head as he pours it into your mouth. You swallow the fluid gingerly. Your eyes are barely open when he hears you communicate through the tadpole.

Thank you for saving me. Again.

Astarion slowly strokes the side of your face, brushing the flyaway hairs out of your eyes.

"I saved you for my own selfish reasons," he whispers, while taking your right hand gently, "close your eyes and rest- I will keep you safe. Shadowheart is coming."

You nod lazily before closing your eyes, your hand in his still. Astarion sighs in relief when your breathing gets stronger, but he is no healer. Where the hells is that damn Cleric!?

 “Shadowheart!!!!”

[venusoracle]

pac: winter wishes from your future spouse

this winter, what message does your future spouse have for you? pick a card for a message and chanelled christmas song from your future spouse <3

take only what resonates, this is a general reading

reblogs and likes would be really appreciated! :) i would love to hear which one you picked!

PILE 1

♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ come out and play - billie eilish

hi, my love. how are you? i wanted to let you know -  i wish you could see your full potential. your shyness is cute and i love that you’re introverted because we get along so well (and i actually keep imagining us going on dates and your cheeks being all flushed... so cute) but i wanna encourage you to be more confident sometimes. you are beautiful and strong and i love you. i understand that when you were younger, people were harsh to you when they spoke to you, but i want you to know that it’s okay to stand up for yourself. i’m proud of you and i’m proud of you for wanting to heal your inner child. i know it’s scary and it feels difficult to face your fears… but i promise that your life will change for the better. don’t be intimidated and don’t listen to other people, you’re stronger than you think. i love you, you’ve got this, hang in there, the cold will be over soon.

PILE 2

♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ santa tell me - ariana grande

hey darling!! you’ve been working so hard recently and been so focused, i really admire it. but baby, please don’t get too obsessive with academic / work validation - you are so much more than that, especially to me. i feel like you’re my soulmate and i know that it’s part of my destiny to meet you, do i sound cheesy? anyways, you inspire me to keep working on my goals and to be resilient when i want to give up. your kindness and loving heart already support me during tough times. i can’t wait to meet you, i’ve been waiting so long and i’m so excited to build a future together with you.

PILE 3

♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ love to keep me warm - laufey and dodie

oh baby, i’m sorry that people have betrayed you in the past. you don’t deserve that at all. you’ve been manifesting me and i’m glad that i’ve been helping you in a way… when we meet, i'm gonna feel complete because i know we’ll accept each other for who we are. have you been shutting yourself off from meeting people, love? i feel like you are for some reason :( i know it’s daunting to think that you might get treated badly again but you are a beautiful person who deserves to make meaningful connections. don’t hide away, you’ve got this. also this is hella random but you remind me of a princess :) do i sound creepy? possibly but whatever, don't forget to wear your scarf.

PILE 4

♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ christmas tree farm - taylor swift

i feel kinda shy tbh… hello, i hope you’re doing well. i’m normally not an emotional person but i’m learning how to communicate better recently. i want to change myself for the better cuz firstly, i wanna be successful and also cuz i’m probably gonna have to fight for you lol. anyways, i’m not giving up. take care and stay warm, don't get sick and i'll see you around.

[dianneking]

Hiii👋 not sure if youre taking requests but I just had to send one!! Im inlove your fics 🫠 can I request Larissa/reader based on she by dodie wt a happy ending please 👉👈🥺 its alright if youre not accepting requests, just wanna shoot my shot :-))

Hi! I wanted to thank you for this request, because it made me discover this song that I didn't know, and it filled me with all the angst necessary to make this fic happen, so I hope you enjoy!

Tags: Angst and Feelings, Angst with a happy ending, Break-up, age difference, Boss/Employee relationship, hidden relationship, pining.

AO3 link in title, if you prefer reading it there!

She - Larissa/Reader Angsty Songfic

 Am I allowed to look at her like that Could it be wrong when she's just so nice to look at

  The light streamed through the window panes, silhouetting Larissa in sharp contrast against it. Her hair refracted the sun and for a moment it looked as if she was wearing a halo. Like a painting of a saint, or a goddess of old. And you, you, as always were her worshipper, blessed by the honor of drinking in her figure like that.

You were standing at the center of the room, the book you held in your hand forgotten by your side, so mesmerized by her beauty that you forgot to notice the tight curve of her shoulders, the way her hands gripped spasmodically the windowsill. You would remember all these details of course, but only later.

Too late.

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep She tastes like apple juice and peach Oh, you would find her in a polaroid picture And she means everything to me

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think this is going to work.”

She chose not to look at you as she said this, her eyes roaming the grounds of Nevermore from behind the glass of her window. Not even sparing you a glance as she broke up with you. You felt all the air leave your lungs at that, and yet all that could be heard in the suddenly silent room was a soft, pained Oh.

(Oh)

“I can’t give you what you want. You need to build a future for yourself and I…I need to be able to concentrate on Nevermore without any distractions.”

A distraction. That’s all you boiled down to. What for you had been the happiest period of your life was little more than a nuisance to her. You tried to swallow around the pain that this caused you. Was that what she had been thinking through all of your time together? The nights curled up in front of the fire, the stolen dates hiking through the woods around Nevermore, the way her fingers curled around yours when no one was watching? Nothing but a distraction?

  “I… should probably go, then.”

Larissa’s head whipped back towards you as soon as the words left your mouth, but she didn’t say anything for what felt like an infinite stretch of time. Still, you waited, standing in the middle of her office like a misbehaving student. You always waited for her. Of course you did, you loved her. Was that part of what made you such a bother to her?

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Was there anything you wanted me to say?”

I'd never tell No I'd never say a word And oh it aches But it feels oddly good to hurt.

“…I guess not.”

“I’ll leave you to your work then.”

You clamped down on the instinct to say I’m sorry because you weren’t. You were grateful for the time she had given you. And if she wasn’t going to apologize for breaking up with you, then neither were you going to apologize for making her feel like she had to choose between you and her work. You turned on your heel, walking away from the room, leaving your heart behind with someone you thought would cherish it forever. After all, that had been your mistake, not hers, right?

You had been the one to fall for her, madly, deeply. You had looked at her and seen everything you could ever wish for. You wanted to shout her joy from the tallest tower of Nevermore to the deepest ravine in the woods. You wanted to court her, to hold her hand, to dine with her in the candlelight.

She had been more reserved with her affection. You are my employee. It wouldn’t be proper for people to know about us. And then there was the age difference. It had always disturbed her more than it did you (although she hadn’t seemed so disturbed by it when your head was buried deep between her thighs). What is a young thing like you doing with an old woman like myself? You should go find someone to build a family with, she had told you multiple times. And every time you told her that Nevermore was all the family you needed, and that she was everything you wanted. Had that been annoying? It was the truth.

She smells like lemongrass and sleep She tastes like apple juice and peach Oh, you would find her in a polaroid picture And she means everything to me

  Going back to your usual work routine was unsettling. You went through the motions of your life as if you were sleepwalking, trapped in a bad dream. Re-shelving books, sending out emails, helping both students and fellow staff-members in their researches. The weekly meetings of the book club. They all felt familiar, and yet you couldn’t find comfort in any of those activities, that you used to love so much. It was as if you had left with her all of your ability to love anything else as well. And yet you powered through, with the determination of a machine that was only there to get its work done. Because anything else was now lost to her. How could you walk through the woods and not think of her carefree smile? How can you enjoy a sip of apple juice without remembering how it tasted on her lips?

Oh, oh

The meetings were the most difficult part of all. The first ones were staff meetings, and you somehow managed to get through those by sitting in the furthermost corner from her, letting your eyes roam all over her figure whenever she wasn’t looking in your direction. She looked perfect, as always. She was poised and attentive to her colleagues, ready to discuss the decisions that involved them and the school, always taking constructive criticism in stride, diplomatically mediating between arguing teachers with the ease of a natural leader.

Oh, oh

Had it been slipping when the two of you were together? Were the secret smiles that danced in her eyes when they met yours a sign of distraction, a weakness that would have been exploited in the long run?

She didn’t look any different in how she ran the school now.

The few meetings the two of you had to have together were painful. You stuttered through your reports, and forget to ask half of the things you needed to. After a while she just stopped inviting you for in-person meetings and asked you to submit the reports per email.

You retreated even more than usual into your reign, the library, and watched the seasons change from behind its stained glass windows.

And I'll be okay Admiring from afar Cause even when she's next to me We could not be more far apart

  “Happy birthday.”

She looked awkward, looming in the darkened library door without entering, her gaze suddenly shy, and that felt wrong. She’d never been shy. Not even when you were first together, she had always been the one to initiate contact. She had held your hand first, she had kissed you first. She had been the one to ask if you wanted to move your relationship further.

And she had been the one to put an end to it.

And now she was here, on the evening of your birthday, invading the one space that was safely yours, holding a small tray with a slice of peach cobbler from the Weathervane in her hand, as an offering. Your favorite. The fact that she remembered hurt you somewhat more. So whatever you had had not been completely erased from her memory. Did she remember all the other things, too? The things you whispered to her when she held you in the darkness if her room? Did she, and she managed to go on with her life as if nothing major had changed? As if it had been nothing more than a parenthesis in a novel. By then, you were used to the pain, and you let it wrap around you, like a dear friend who was becoming more familiar to you than her voice.

Cause she tastes like birthday cake, and storytime, and fall But to her I taste of nothing at all

  “Thanks.”

“Aren’t you going to celebrate?”

The small talk was painfully stilted, and you wondered why she was so adamant in pursuing it.

“Not much to celebrate, I’d rather stay here with my book.”

“We don’t see much of you outside of the library anymore.”

“I wonder why that is.”

A whiff of her perfume reached your nostrils and you almost keeled under the onslaught of memories. There had been a time when the faint undertones of lemongrass had clung to your clothes, so much so that you had enjoyed the illusion of bringing a piece of her with you all through the day. An illusion, like everything else.

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep She tastes like apple juice and peach You would find her in a polaroid picture

“Why are you here, principal Weems?”

She seemed to recoil from her title, and seeing that didn’t give you any of the vengeful satisfaction you had hoped for. You didn’t like seeing her in pain. You never wanted to be the cause of her pain.

You knew all too well how it felt to be hurt by the one you love.

Except she didn’t love you.

You were starting to think she never did. It had probably been lust, the sense of adventure, the thrill of the forbidden. A younger body to press herself into. Maybe some sort of affection, too. But not love. You had made peace with that.

  “I miss you.”

And she means everything to me

  “I…beg your pardon?”

“I know I don’t have any right to say so. Not after I…I ended things between us. But I do. I miss you. I miss our time together, I miss having you reading on my couch as I wrap up the last emails in the evening. I miss asking for your opinion, I miss raising my eyes from my laptop and finding yours on me, since I don’t know how long. I’m sorry.”

Yes she means everything to me

“I’m not. Sorry, that is.”

You saw her close her eyes, resignation and sadness warring on her beautiful, kind face. She’d always been kind, even when she had hurt you. That’s why it was so important for her to understand.

“You chose Nevermore. I get it. It should have never been a choice you should have had to make, but I am grateful for the affection you have showed me in the time we were together. It made me feel alive in a way I never did. I understand it wasn’t the same for you and really, it is okay. It was probably foolish of me, but I did give you my all, and I don’t blame you for not knowing what to do with it. It was my choice, and I would do it again. I still love you but it’s alright. I made peace with it.”

She means everything to me.

“You still…love me?”

You nodded, unable to speak anymore. She looked soft, and her gaze didn’t hold the pity you were afraid of seeing, not the annoyance you dreaded. In her eyes you could only read an overwhelming wonder, as she looked at you as if you had just performed a miracle in front of her. “But don’t you want someone else? Someone younger, freer, more like yourself? Someone that hasn’t hurt you?”

“I don’t want anyone else. You mean everything to me. Whether or not you like me back, apparently. Whether or not I am a distraction.”

“Darling I…” the words caught up in her throat as she cupped your cheek with her hand. You had almost forgotten her touch, too. And at the same time, it was as if she’d never left.

  “I love you too. The gods help me, I love you more than Nevermore.”

-

liked it? you can find more of my writings linked on my fanfiction masterlist

[bi-bard]

As It Is Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Kaz Brekker - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: As It Is Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Kaz Brekker

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 2,608 words

Warning(s): touch aversion, mentions of nightmares/past trauma

Author's Note: Here's a cute little fact: I write for a lot of Taylor Swift and Hozier and dodie and stuff, but As It Is is my favorite band of all time. I hold their music very close to my heart. I could spend hours talking about how much I love their music.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

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

The Handwritten Letter

I need you when I'm bruised and broken It's all that keeps me here and hoping I'm tangled in your mind unwoven I need you when I'm bruised I need you when I'm broken

Ka would never accept that someone helped him for the sake of helping him. In his eyes, everyone had another agenda of some kind. Money, power, take your pick. That belief always made him cold and distant. I had long accepted that he would never admit to having someone around merely for the sake of having them around.

That would be a liability. He would never risk giving his enemies such an easy way to have power over him.

Maybe "never" was a strong word.

I was sitting at my small, listening to the sound of pencil scratching paper, only interrupted by pauses to either pull thoughts in order, make corrections, or flip to the next page. I would never thank Jesper enough for getting me a small leather-bound journal. He introduced me to the beautiful world of writing that I had never known before.

I must've been too focused on my scribbling to notice the world around me.

Kaz had to clear his throat for me to know that he had gotten into my apartment. I turned around in my seat so I could look at him.

"Hey," I said. I would have been worried about him getting in, but I was the one who gave him a key. "Sorry, I was writing. Didn't hear you come in."

"You should be resting." he didn't acknowledge my statement. "You hit your head. You need to be in bed."

He said it like a boss instructing an employee, but we both knew that there was more to it than that. Well, I liked to believe that.

"I'm fine," I insisted.

"You were unconscious," he argued.

"And now, I'm not-"

"Jesper had to carry you here!" he cut me off. "You could have easily died! I- We almost lost you. Now, get back into bed."

"Alright, alright," I mumbled. "Never knew that you cared so much."

He didn't respond to that. He merely watched as I climbed under my covers.

"I get it, you need to make sure that all of your tools are in working condition," I added, curling into my pillow.

There was this long pause.

Neither one of us moved. I was curled under my thin covers. He stood in the middle of my room. I couldn't see him. I wondered what his eyes were focused on. Was it just me or was it the mess around my home? Could he picture me living in my space or was my existence as much of an enigma to him as his was to me?

"I lied to you."

The quiet confession made me slowly push myself up. I held myself up on my hands, allowing my blanket to fall onto my lap. He was looking away from me. His eyes were fixed to my journal, staring at the words that I had scrawled into the paper before his visit.

"What do you mean," I asked.

The page sitting open was one that I should have been embarrassed by. Lines constructed to reflect a longing that I had only known with Kaz. Poetry about suffocating, yearning, burning, and begging. All of it boiled down to one thing: I needed Kaz as much as I needed air or water or food.

I should've been humiliated. But I wasn't. Because I knew that he had to be aware of my feelings. How could he not be when it so clearly filled my eyes when I looked at him?

"Kaz-"

"You were never merely a tool," he said, looking at me.

"Then what am I?" I muttered. "To you?"

He took a deep breath. When his eyes turned away from me again, it felt like my heart jumped into my throat. I just needed him to say something. Say what I had been desperate to hear for as long as I had known him.

"Kaz, please," I pulled myself over to the end of the bed, sitting on my knees. "Tell me."

"I care for you," he said. "More than I should. More than I want to."

He walked over, stopping right in front of me.

"I need to know that you're okay," he continued. "Always. I feel a need to be around you and protect you. You make me feel a safety that I haven't felt in years. If you were gone, I don't know what I would do. You... You are..."

He trailed off, looking as if the words were truly getting stuck in his throat. As if forcing out another word would bring him pain. I didn't want to be the source of that. He had already said so much more than I had ever wished for.

He looked down. I did the same. His hand was resting on my bedframe, just next to mine. I grinned and looked back at him.

"I... I'm not good at things like this," he mumbled.

"It's okay," I promised. "I'm patient."

He looked back at me. A grin started forming on his lips.

I felt safe calling it a good start.

Winter's Weather

Please see in me what I can’t see, I’m begging Please won’t you be the light I need so desperately

Physical affection was not something Kaz was used to.

He had made that abundantly clear to me.

I never pushed him. Or I never tried to. I let him take the lead most days, and if I ever did take the lead, then I would have no complaints if he pulled away. It was all meant to be understanding. Kindness.

It worked well for us. Even without any kind of touching, Kaz made it clear to me that I was not the same as everyone else. I caught his smiles. He would walk closer to me. I had free access to his office. He would mumble things to me that the others weren't meant to hear.

He had quiet ways of showing me that I meant so much to him.

I thought we were happy that way. For the time being, at least.

And then, Kaz showed me that maybe that wasn't the case.

He was standing by his mirror, tending to something. I was sitting on the chair opposite his desk, scanning my eyes over the pages of a book.

It took me a few moments to realize that he had moved to stand in the archway and watch me quietly. I grinned at him.

"You're staring, Brekker," I teased.

There was something both flattering and nerve-wracking about being the center of Kaz's attention. I had never been looked at with as much intensity as he looked at me. It felt as if he could stare into my soul as easily as he breathed. As if he knew every secret that I could ever think of keeping from him. It made my heart speed up and my face turn warm.

"Something's on your mind," I said, placing the book on his desk. "I can see it."

His eyes seemed to scan me for a moment longer before he spoke, "Am I wasting your time?"

"Never," I replied instantly. It was true. I wouldn't take back a moment that I spent with him. Ever. "Why are you asking?"

"Just something that I saw today," he tried to wave off the entire interaction.

I stood from my seat. I walked over to the archway, standing next to him in the entrance. "What is it, Kaz?"

"Have I ever once shown you that I care for you," he asked. "Ever?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"When?"

"Every day," I explained. "When you try to keep me safe or tell me that Inej brought me a new book or murmur something in my ear. You show me, Kaz. In your own special way. Please believe me when I say that I know it."

"You deserve more than this," he muttered. "You deserve a man who can touch you. A man that doesn't let his weakness stop him from being yours-"

"Stop it, Kaz," I cut him off. "I don't need more than what I have. I will decide what I deserve. It took me ages to convince myself that I deserved you. There isn't something better than you. Not for me. You are everything. The center of my world; the sky, the ground, and everything in between. I don't need to touch you or have you touch me to convince me."

He didn't respond.

Instead, he looked down for a moment. I took a deep breath, assuming that this was a losing fight. I was ready to let it go for the night, but Kaz stopped me before I could.

"I want you to touch me."

It was like the room filled with smoke. Tension so thick that I could hardly breathe. My mind couldn't process the sentence for a moment, and once it did, it didn't stop playing it over and over and over.

"Are you sure," I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"You don't have to-"

"I want you to," he stopped me.

"Okay," I nodded. "Anything in particular."

He took a deep breath. "No."

I took a moment to study his face. "I... I'm going to just reach up and touch your face-"

"I'm not a scared dog."

"Sorry," I mumbled.

I slowly lifted my hand up and went to cup his cheek.

I saw him tense as soon as my hand touched his face. His breathing picked up and his eyes closed. I had never craved to be able to read someone's mind quite like I did then. Maybe then, I could offer him some peace through it.

I felt guilt sitting in my stomach. I felt like I was bringing him pain. As if my hand had been covered in small blades, each cutting into his skin one by one.

The guilt only grew as I recognized the warmth in my heart. I loved Kaz. I never doubted that. Being able to touch him, to show just one ounce of the love I held was a blessing. But I was feeling this love while he was in pain. I couldn't inflict that on him.

I went to move my hand away, unable to handle seeing him like this. "Kaz-"

"Don't," he instructed, opening his eyes to look at me. "Please."

It felt like he was seeing me. Not some ghost from a nightmare that he wouldn't explain to me. Some remnant of a life he wanted to bury so desperately that I had seen haunt him far too often.

I barely noticed that Kaz matched his breathing with mine.

Maybe he didn't mean to. Maybe he was just trying to calm himself down and it was the best choice he had.

"Will you kiss me," he asked quietly.

I paused for a moment. "Are you... Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I stepped forward and grinned at him nervously.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

It was only for a few seconds. A few seconds of my lips barely touching his. I wanted to be gentle and careful, but I had this pull in my chest to just show him how much I adored him. But regardless of what I wanted, I leaned back, pulling my hand back with it.

We both stood there for a few moments before I finally spoke up, "Are you alright?"

Kaz let out a heavy breath before looking at me again. "Yes. I'm alright."

I felt a smile stretch across my face.

It was a perfect enough moment for me.

The Truth I'll Never Tell

And I could tell you how I've really been But would you even want to know

I had somewhat expected Kaz to pull away after his final fight with Pekka Rollins.

It was a taxing venture. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. I could see it. On his face, in his shoulder, in the way he spoke. I just wanted to be there for him, but I felt the same exhaustion that he did.

I understood his desire to be alone after it had all gone down.

However, there's a distinct difference between needing time alone to regroup after an intense experience and unhealthy isolation.

Maybe my urge to show up at his office that night were selfish than I would admit to. Maybe it was more of an attempt to soothe myself than him. Even if he shoved me away, then I could say that I tried and live without the guilt of not reaching out to him when he may have needed me.

Regardless of whatever subconscious reason there may have been, I went to Kaz's office.

He was sitting at his desk, clearly lost in thought in some way.

I walked over to stand next to the desk, taking a moment to scan my eyes across the side of his face. His wounds from his last meeting with Pekka were healing quite nicely, but they were still noticeable. And they broke my heart.

"You're staring," He mumbled, looking over at me.

I blinked a few times. "Sorry. I wanted to check on you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my partner and I care for you," I explained. "You've been avoiding me, Kaz."

He pulled his eyes away from me, instead choosing to focus on something on his desk.

"I understand that a lot has happened," I continued. "And I have no interest in forcing you to say or do anything, but I need you to know that I want to listen. I want to know what's going on-"

"What difference would that make exactly," he asked, cutting me off.

"Because bottling up your emotions all the time isn't healthy," I shrugged. "You deserve to have someone to talk to, Kaz."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then, explain it."

There was a long pause. Tense. I watched Kaz's jaw clench for a moment. I crossed my arms over my chest. I refused to leave him. Not like this.

"I thought that they'd stop," he muttered.

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"The nightmares. The flashbacks. I thought that getting rid of Pekka Rollins would get rid of them."

"And they didn't."

"No," he whispered.

"I... I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes. He looked embarrassed. He never liked pity. I should have shown that my attempts at empathy may look very similar in his eyes. And the worst part was that I didn't know how to prove him wrong.

"Kaz," I mumbled, going to take a knee in front of him so our eyes would be closer to level when he eventually turned to me. "I... I can't fix what's already happened. I can't. Believe me, there is nothing more I want than to be able to offer you some kind of clean slate. But I... I can support you. If you let me."

I heard a sigh escape him.

"You once told me that I gave you a sense of safety that you hadn't felt in a long time," I said. "Let me make good on that expectation."

He finally looked at me again, eyes scanning my face. I wonder what he was looking for. Ruminants of my injuries or simply some sign that I was lying to him.

"Okay," I asked.

He took a deep breath before nodding. "Okay."

I felt a smile stretch across my face.

In that moment I knew that I was never going to be as in love with someone as I was with Kaz.

And I was perfectly content with that.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[st-juliet]

Ready Now

Fandom: Henry Cavill as Sherlock in Enola Holmes

Summary: Sherlock comforts the reader in heartbreak…and opens a door for a happier future.

Content: A very light 18+ just to be safe, for implied sex.

Notes: Angst to comfort to fluff. A bit of a shameless self-insert to improve my spirits, and perhaps yours, too, if you are in need. Title from the Dodie song which I love so dearly!

“Miss—?”

“Oh, no.”

The words fall from your lips before you can stop them, and tears prick at your eyes. The last thing you could ever want at this moment are the keen eyes of the Great Detective turned upon you in the most painful moment of your life…but such are the perils of open windows and the garden shared by his flat and yours.

You deduce at once that he has heard through your open window every word that passed betwixt you and the man to whom you were, until this hour past, betrothed: Sherlock Holmes knows you have been forsworn, with another already chosen to assume your place by the side of the man who had promised you his heart and his life. This embarrassment coupled with your anguish is almost too much to bear, and you almost flee back into the house, but his voice stills you.

“Your compassion does you credit,” he says, carefully keeping his eyes upon the flower he was inspecting, where a little bee hums contentedly, wholly unconcerned with human troubles.

“My…compassion?”

Sherlock is quiet, but insistent: “That heartless young man has callously thrown away his greatest chance at happiness, and you—who are best positioned to inform him of it—instead wish him well. You preserve his reputation when his own actions have sullied it, and defend a character he could perhaps aspire to, though it is you yourself who possess it. Such is your compassion, to care for his welfare when he has disregarded yours. When he has treated you so…”

He trails off, turning away from the garden to look at you in earnest. You can see him auditioning adverbs with which to end his sentence, in varying degrees of delicacy: indifferently, unkindly, cruelly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you protest feebly, before he can settle on a word.

“Forgive me, my lady, for contradicting your charity,” he scoffs. “But I have seen and heard too much which has roused my suspicion and my unmitigated anger. Your effective disappearance from society following your engagement; your hesitance—indeed, your fear—to even speak to another man, apprehensive of his jealousy; the want of preparation or celebration of your impending marriage…and that his published columns in the papers are so unmistakably your ideas, even your words, filtered weakly through his pen.” A tear slips from your eye and down your cheek.

“You know?”

His gruff tone and his steely expression soften at once, melting into a gentle murmur and a warm gaze as he draws very near to you.

“I have told no one else. But if you chose to reveal him as a fraud, I would second you at once,” he avows, and then he smiles softly. “And if you chose to empty his plagiarizing inkwell over his head, I would likewise hold your gloves.”

“I need not do that, I think,” you smile back, even as more tears run down your face, the efforts of preserving your composure slipping away at this matchless kindness. Sherlock draws his handkerchief from his pocket and presses it into your hand delicately, giving a light squeeze to your fingertips before drawing back.

“Then I repeat my sentiment of your compassion. And I never meant to peer into your private business. But my incontestable busybody of a brain could not mistake your suffering, or its cause.”

“You are very good, sir, to think of me at all.”

“Not half so good as you. No—no modesty from you tonight; I will not accept it, knowing how you have already humbled yourself to salvage the honor of a replete cad. But I cannot say I am not something pacified, knowing that you are free of him.”

“I did not wish to be free of him,” you confess, dabbing at your eyes as the subtle scent of his tobacco and cologne, infused into the cloth of the handkerchief, washes over you—a comforting, intimate sensation even in the midst of your grief. “I wished to love him. But he does not love me.”

Sherlock seems to wage a small war within himself before he speaks again.

“I cannot possibly imagine your pain, nor would I ever instruct you not to feel it, fully and completely, till you have made your way through. But you must know that there are men whose hearts are not made of stone. Men who would be moved, and infinitely so, by the tenderness and care he neglected, who would give any earthly riches or heavenly rewards for the chance to return your love tenfold.” He inclines his head to brush an impossibly soft, tender kiss to your forehead, so light and so loving that you think at once you must be dreaming. “Please, my dear, sweet lady—whenever you are ready, remember this.”

With a slight bow, he returns to his home, but the memory of his touch and his kindness lingers, a sweet reprieve from your sorrow even on this darkest of nights.

~ Some Months Later ~

“Sherlock?”

“My dear Miss—“

“I am ready now.”

With his words and his deeds, with his body and his soul, he drives from your mind every less than loving touch you have suffered, every thoughtless word or neglectful silence, entreating you to forget past pain and trust your own heart again. You coax from him a lightness and laughter, hold him through the depths of his sorrow in defeat, and ardently welcome him home victorious. You build and rebuild. You learn and grow. Together.

And when he kisses you for the first time.

When you walk arm in arm through the world, through the change of seasons.

When he kneels and asks for your hand, and sings to the world of his good fortune and the grace of your future.

When he brings you to bed with a fierce and tender passion, each surrendered wholly to the other in perfect harmony.

When the sight of your newborn child cradled in your arms causes your strong, steady husband to weep at this miracle made from your love…

…you are home.

If you prefer wordy smut, you might enjoy my masterlist. New Utmost Merit chapters to come soon, as soon as I stop moping. <3 Thank you for reading!

[kotaromita]

Breathlessly, Kotaro drops his head to Akito's shoulder. Akito's hand slides along his jaw and into his hair. He trembles, feebly wrapping his arms around Akito. Akito isn't much for hugging, but he'll accept it in this context. He rests his cheek on Kotaro's head. "I've shared my dreams with you, so you don't have to be scared to share your dreams with me. I want to keep you by my side, on stage and off."

Angsty Kotaro/Akito art I made which somewhat inspired this fanfic.

Kotaro's lack of confidence is really interesting to explore and consider the reasons as to why he feels such strong negative feelings towards himself.

I also made a playlist and some follow up drawings too. Below the cut.

Omar Apollo - Useless

mr.kitty - habits

Beach House - Space Song

Joji - Sanctuary

dodie - Sick of Losing Soulmates

Surf Curse - Freaks

Dagny - Love You Like That

The Neighbourhood - You Get Me So High

Mom - Joyfulthought

Fitz and the Tantrums - Out of My League

A R I Z O N A - CROSS MY MIND

The Cab - Numbers

NOTD & Astrid S - I Don't Know Why

We Don't We - 8 Letters

Florence + The Machine - Wish That You Were Here

VACATIONS - Telephones

Coldplay - Yellow

Toby Fox & Itoki Hana - Skies Forever Blue

rebzyyx ft. hoshie star - all i want is you

The Kid LAROY & Justin Beiber - STAY

mr.kitty - The Glass Inside Your Skulllorde - ribs

By now I've found a ton more songs that remind me of Kotaro and Kotaro/Akito, but those were the songs I listened to while drawing and writing these.

[fritextramole]

in their secondhand smoke

part 1 of an Eric van der Woodsen playlist - best heard in order

tracklist and quotes under the cut

If I Go, I’m Goin ~ Gregory Alan Isakov

This house, she's quite the talker She creaks and moans, she keeps me up And the photographs know I'm a liar

Sweet Hibiscus Tea ~ Penelope Scott

And I am not your protagonist, I'm not even my own

right where you left me ~ Taylor Swift

Trends change, rumors fly through new skies But I'm right where you left me

If You Know That I’m Lonely ~ FUR

Maybe it stays as it's always been Hazy and they see what we can't see Please let me know if you want me around And I'll try my hardest to be good

Matador ~ Minta & The Brook Trout

Go out of your way Or fake it through another day Everything is real Make your peace with whatever you feel The unwilling coalition of characters crowding your thoughts Make too much noise And way too little sense

Everybody Dies ~ Billie Eilish

Everybody dies, surprise, surprise We tell each other lies, sometimes, we try To make it feel like we might be right We might not be alone

feelings are fatal ~ mxmtoon

I'm always sad and I'm always lonely But I can't tell you that I'm breaking slowly Closed doors, locked in, no keys Keeping my feelings hidden, there is no ease I need it to stop and I want to be able to open up

6/10 ~ dodie

I know that you don't want me here I know that you don't want me here I know that you don't want me here I know that you don't want me here I know that you don't want me here Oh I'll just call a taxi (I know that you don't want me here)

Self Care ~ Penelope Scott

Do drugs, have sex, tell your deepest darkest secrets to your friends Post cringe, buy guns, are you done yet? Fuck, not enough, cry a river, smash a cup But it's never ever gonna be enough For the people in the back row, but you still choose to listen Knowing damn well it's really not their decision

Soda ~ Nothing But Thieves

I'm an exception It's hard to accept Because I try to be happy But then I forget

Goodbye Rocketship ~ Maya Hawke

I forgive you, and I thank you, you know all the reasons why I'm sorry and I love you, all we can do is try

Guiltless ~ dodie

You opened a door that a kid shouldn't walk through Oh, but I’m not bitter, I'm just tired No use getting angry at the way that you're wired

xanny ~ Billie Eilish

What is it about them? I must be missing something They just keep doing nothing Too intoxicated to be scared Better off without them They're nothing but unstable

Andromeda ~ Weyes Blood

Lift the heart from the depths it's fallen to We all want something new But can't seem to follow through Something's better than nothing Or so that I thought

Memories Can’t Wait ~ Talking Heads

There's a party up there all the time And they'll party 'til they drop

After Hours ~ The Velvet Underground

Dark party bars, shiny Cadillac cars And the people on subways and trains Looking gray in the rain as they stand disarrayed Oh, but people look well in the dark

They / Them / Theirs ~ Worriers

What if I don’t want something that applies to me? What if there’s no better word than just not saying anything, anything?

Gone for Good ~ Matt Berry

After a whole night of hell Could be night, who could tell? I realize no matter what I display It turns to shit and ends up just the same way

Shine ~ Collective Soul

Love is in the water, love is in the air Show me where to look, tell me, will love be there?

IDK You Yet ~ Alexander 23

How can you miss someone you've never met? 'Cause I need you now but I don't know you yet But can you find me soon because I'm in my head?

Dear Someone ~ Gillian Welch

Hurry and take me straight into the arms Of my dear someone

Comfort Crowd ~ Conan Gray

I just needed company now Yeah, I just needed someone around Yeah, I don't care what song that we play Or mess that we make Just company now

Home ~ Cavetown

Often, I am upset That I cannot fall in love, but I guess This avoids the stress of falling out of it

Storm Cellar Heart ~ Mutual Benefit

Taking shelter To wait out this inclement weather And when you hold me It's so much better

Soft Place to Land ~ Sam Beam, Jesca Hoop

If you're looking for a soft place to land The calm of a steady hand An unconditional friend If you need to take a moment to catch your breath Come in before you catch your death You don't have to pass a test to come home

[firefly--bright]

all my daughters.

jean kirstein x gender neutral!reader (modern au)

summary : the crushing weight of everything and everyone changing is a bit too much. jean wants to bear the burdens with you.

warnings : hurt/comfort, mostly just therapy for my crumbling mental state, amateur symbolisms (?), established relationship, no use of y/n (im trying smth new) not proofread!!!!!

a/n : this is kinda like flaws but worse? idk I just needed to write something to comfort me and I'll be nothing if I don't use my writing to fix me <3 anyway! self projection as always but I love you if you relate to this and I'm always here to listen if you need someone to talk to. I'm also probably gonna take a hiatus after this fic but we'll see (I'm here to talk to regardless of that!) <3 i honestly don't expect this fic to get that much traction but anyway! enjoy!

taglist : @holding-ishu-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody

masterlist is linked in pinned post! ✿ requests for jean kirstein are open! ✿ enter my taglist ✿

inspired by these songs : all my daughters (demo) by dodie

ajib dastan hai yeh by Lata Mangeshkar

you were used to contradictory sentences. double negatives that were only meant to confuse you, double positives that you thought meant anything but, adorned with a sarcastic smile and a roll of the eyes that left you needing to figure the meaning out yourself.

jean was a walking contradictory sentence. he was a walking double negative, one that you didn't know how to understand. he was blunt but sweet, cold and warm, never being in one spot with his feelings, always on his feet but not running away. somehow he stayed.

all your friends were moving on. every one - sasha was moving out with her boyfriend niccolo, a chef who she had become extremely close to over the past year and who treated her in the highest of regards. your other roomate, Mikasa, was also moving out, but not with her boyfriend, eren, as you had suspected but instead for a chase of starting a new flourishing business of selling handcrafted oxidised jewellery online. that and being closer to eren, she had explained to both you and sasha.

Marco wasnt moving, per say, but he was already applying for his masters in law to broaden his perspective, and there was a prospect of him going abroad for his soon to approach future. he was currently visiting his extended family. Connie, surprisingly, was the first of your friend group to actually get a job at a marketing firm, and even if it was sort of exhausting, people praised Connie's charms and puns that made people buy the products. he was also helping Mikasa with her business, alongside eren and armin.

jean, currently making dinner for the pair of you in your mostly empty apartment, was also interning for an architectural firm. well, he hadn't started yet, but he did get accepted with the interview he gave last month.

and you? even though you were currently looking for new roomates to occupy the now empty spaces in the apartment, you felt lost. sure, you had a plan, and had also applied for a handful of internships, but that didn't mean you knew what you were doing.

you were used to keeping things and people in boxes. it started ever since you were in middle school and had just heard about books like Harry Potter and divergent, books that had a clear distinction of which people belonged where. you'd define people with those distinctions so it was easy to figure them out; it was easier to think of someone in a faction or Hogwarts houses or godly parent instead of actually trying to figure them out with all their complexeties. eventually it graduated into astrological signs that were probably all bullshitted anyway, and into MBTI types. there was always an explanation for something, and if it wasn't given them you'd find it out for yourself as you always had. but you couldn't go by those simple classifications anymore. they were too narrow and too claustrophobic.

but you also hated too-wide expanses that came with simply existing. the expanse of your unknown lifespan, the limitlessness of unlimited time, the enormous amount of things you had yet to learn. it was easy to get lost in nothing. how did your friends and family and all the people around you ever manage to make a clear path for themselves with a multitude of stops and landmarks when you didn't even have the basic gravel and stone and concrete to get started on making a road for yourself? would you be yet another chapter that ended in a fullstop in their thick books that they'd flip away from? the change - the uncertain steps - were never something you looked forward to.

helping mikasa and sasha move out was a challenge, another full stop in their books, helping Connie by teaching him how to properly format professional emails was another landmark that he passed, seeing Marco off at the airport before he caught his flight was another certain step.

the wide tumultous blue of the sea that you were floating in and it's unnerving depth used to be somewhat manageable. you had been swimming with your friends for a long time until your fingertips got all shriveled up, but now it seemed as though they had all swam away from you and towards a shore they were looking forward to, but you werent. the horizon line was all you could see, and you dared not to open your eyes underwater to see how deep the water was.

you were happy for them, ofcourse you were. you loved them with all your heart, and sections of your essential heart were left only for them with their names carved into the ridges of your brain. but the change was too much, too empty, too wide, too limitless, too uncertain.

a knock on the wood of your bedroom door made you turn your swivel chair towards the noise, and jean stood there against the doorframe, leaning on it. "dinner's ready. didn't know which movie to watch, though." he said, and only half of his words are registered by your ears.

you nod, your lips quirking up only slightly. "I'll be there in a bit," you say, watching Jean's brows knit closer together. you loved the way his forehead crinkled in obvious worry and concentration, but you didn't have the tongue to speak out your admirations.

he tilts his head. ever the observant, he asks, "what's wrong?"

his tone is patient. his words demand acknowledgement.

you sigh a little, knowing you can't hide anything from him. you thanked that quality of his, even if it was a little inconvenient at times, because his unrelenting persistence was the reason you felt so loved today, the reason you and jean had gotten closer in the first place.

your shoulders slump, "i dont know how to explain it," you say, because it's true, but also because even if you could explain it, you wouldn't know where to begin. but you begin anyway, even though you know it would end with you trailing off. jean would understand anyway as he always had. "just.... everything's changing... and I, i dont know, i dont really like change, I guess." there's a pause and you refuse to look at his face which you're sure is observing yours carefully as he always does. "it's just...too much." you say, shrugging at the end. "it's too much and I don't know how to deal with this. like everyone's dealing with it better than I am and I don't even know if I've....if I've grown much, if at all. i dont know what I'm supposed to do. i dont know what my role is, like i just, i wish there was an author writing my life so I'd know what to do because I don't know how to...how to do everything myself. i-" you didn't know when the lump had formed in your throat, refusing to be swallowed down anymore after being ignored for months on end. "i dont know anything, jean, and it's scary." you say, and your eyes don't shed tears even if theyre stinging. you wish you could cry just to get it over with.

you were probably overreacting. everyone was doing so great with themselves, and at the end of the day, it wasn't a big deal. so what if everyone would move on with their lives? wasn't that what was supposed to happen? so what if your friends would probably forget you? shouldn't you be glad that you had them in the first place? wasn't it better to have felt alive for the first time than to not have felt it in the first place?

warm and sturdy arms wrapped around your unshaken frame, and you were pulled away from your rolling chair to sit down on your bed. the mattress dipped comfortably under you as it always had and jean smelt like he always did and you took comfort in the predictability. your sheets would smell the same today and tomorrow and the day after, your clothes would be in the same closet, your mirror would be in its same place in the bathroom and jeans arms would always hold you softly.

he held you for a couple minutes as you wallowed in your own sea. your legs were in his lap, leaning your weight on his arms. your eyes were closed, and you felt his warm hands rubbing circles in their place on your thigh and on your back.

you speak again, feeling the need to be understood even though you already were. "i just wish that... that I could freeze time whenever I have a good day." you say, and it's the final nail in your coffin and the final scoop of dirt on your grave. it's all you have to say, it's all jean needs to hear as he holds you a little tighter.

he hums in thought, no doubt thinking of a proper response. sometimes you wish you could take a peek inside his head, just to see, even for a useless moment, what he was thinking about. and more selfishly, if it was about you.

but that didn't matter because who was jean if he didn't speak his mind? his cheek rests on the top of your head and you can feel his warmth, and you wish you could let his warmth spread all over you, you wish that it would ignore the barrier of your skin and go straight to your organs and muscles because your warmth hadn't felt like it had been yours for a very long time and Jean's heat would be much more than welcome. but that was wishful thinking and you feel him kiss the top of your head instead, and you accept it.

"you know," he finally starts, and you can hear his heartbeat. "when we first met I had one of the moments you're talking about. the want to like.... somehow freeze the moment and just relive it forever." he says. you don't move, you don't dare remove your head from his shoulder afraid that if you did, he'd be another thing lost to the depths of your mind.

he continued. "what I'm saying is, i know what you're scared of. that your friends will forget you and move on without you. but... i dont think they will. i dont think anyone can. don't you think just like you have parts of them in you that they have parts of you in them? I've seen it. sasha started talking like you like a month after you guys moved in together. Mikasa likes buying flowers now. Marco texts like you. Connie has so many jokes that only you'd understand. and i-" he says, cutting himself short with a small breathy chuckles that makes your heart dangerously stutter, "i dont think that, god forbid, if we were to ever not be together, i dont think that i would ever be able to forget you. but that's probably because I'm in love with you and that's not changing for atleast this lifetime," another short laugh, "i dont think any of our friends, any of your past friends could ever forget that you existed. i mean, you'd always be there. youd always exist even if it is in the back of their minds.

"and you don't have to know everything. it's not a race. it's just...a nice walk, if anything. you don't have anyone or anything to catch up to. you can take your time, love, and i know it's hard convincing yourself of that, but you can. and if it's any consolation," he says, grabbing your hand that had formed into a loose fist on your knee, encasing your hand in his, "I'm...I'll be here. even if we aren't talking, which I'm pretty sure won't happen, but even if it does, I'm here. i will be." he says, squeezing your fist.

his words breathe comfort into your lungs that rested inside the prison your ribs had become. your chest felt a little lighter, the stubborn knots in your stomach were slowly undoing themselves and maybe his words didn't undo any damage nor did they paint over it but they did help heal.

you breathe in deeply, burrowing yourself even further in his shoulder, and he thankfully gets the message as he holds you tighter, like he's the only twine holding you together. you nod, and he kisses the crook where your shoulders meet your neck.

"thank you," you whisper, something that could get lost in his clothes but he catches it and shakes his head. you know what he's going to say before he even says it and you smile a little.

maybe jean was a contradiction to himself, a double negative, a not not persistence. and maybe you did feel lost, maybe time had swam away from the desperate deathgrip you had on it. but jean was there. he wasn't a fullstop or a chapter, he was more of a "okay, and," sentence, something that continued over with a comma, and he wasn't a guide that held your hand towards the shore, but he was more of an insistent presence that helped you not drown by holding your hand. he wasn't the shore itself, but he did provide the comfort of finding footing against the depths.

not a race, not a stand, just a walk. a walk with your hand in Jean's, a walk with uncertain but hopeful steps.

not a book, not a chapter, just scribbles of incoherent but excited writing in a diary.

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

Another Song (and Some Dark Thoughts)

Dear Future Husband,

My last post was about this song L'man Achai by The Chevra, but that's not the only song that I listened to over Chanukah that ended up as an earworm for me. One of the other songs that's been kicking around my brain, one which wasn't as much on the forefront of my mind as L'man Achai, but which has still bobbed to the top on occasion, is the Six13 acapella version of L'Cha Dodi.

My brain tends to pick certain lines of a song and just repeat those over and over (surprisingly not always the chorus), so I rarely have the whole song on repeat in my head, and instead it's just a few bars.

And this time the part on repeat was primarily the end of the zemer:

So the line "Toch emunei am segulah" has been floating around my brain for a couple of weeks. And again, my Hebrew skills aren't that amazing, so I'm pretty bad at knowing the translations of the songs that I sing unless I think reeally hard about them. And I didn't really think too much about what this whole zemer means.

But I was just on a forum reading about the Jews as the "chosen people" and it occurred to me I don't know where that reference actually comes from. So I went to chatgpt and asked for the source (viewable here), which is apparently from Devarim 7:6.

I tried Sefaria, but I think chabad.org has the better translation for this passuk. (Although you can see some consistencies in the various translation options on Sefaria)

The word used for "chosen" appears to be bachor which usually refers to an oldest son who is given the choice portion of an inheritance. Which in this case would refer to the fact that every nation of people on planet earth are God's children and are all loved by Him, regardless of race, gender, religious affiliation, etc, and that the Jewish people are just the "oldest", the ones who are supposed to lead and teach the rest of the world, and with that responsibility comes additional requirements, and thus additional rewards.

I could go into a whole d'var torah about that, but that's not really what interested me...

What interested me, in case you didn't catch it already, is the reference to "Am Segulah" (His "treasured nation") in both places.

We don't really use that term often and it just kind of struck me while reading this passage that this portion that defines the Jews as "chosen" also uses the same term that has been bopping around my head for a couple of weeks.

Off the top of my head I couldn't have told you that segulah meant 'treasure', because we tend to use that term when we refer to a good luck charm (for lack of a better term), which I guess could be equated to a treasure if you think about it like that?

But usually treasure is something unrelated to luck. It's gold and diamonds and anything a dragon would hoard. Or it's sentimental, a memorial to something special with personal significance. To treasure something is to love it and protect it and keep it safe.

According to the wikipedia page for segulah, it's a charm or ritual in kabbalistic practice intended for protection or benevolence. Although over time a lot of kabbalistic practices have kind of become enmeshed with mainstream orthodox Jewish practice, so a lot of these "segulot" are accepted in general orthodox Jewish society without knowledge of their kabbalistic origins. Some refer to these as old wives tales and say to stop attempting these "extra credit projects" and just do the "required assignments" of proper Torah adherence if you want the benefits that are supposedly "guaranteed" by the segulot...

Kabbalah really became a thing during the Middle Ages (aka The Dark Ages), which was fraught with darkness and evil and superstition. Stories like the Grimm Brothers Fairy Tales and our own stories of the Golem originate from these times. It was also an era of mass death, whether inflicted by disease or humans. There was so much hatred and persecution towards various groups, but most especially Jews, who were kicked out of so many countries across Europe, that it makes sense that people would have wanted anything of protection and comfort to hold onto in those dark times.

But most of these modern segulot aren't amulets, they're not technically treasured artifacts, they're more ritualistic. For example:

People pray at the Kotel for 40 consecutive days as a segulah.

People take challah as a segulah.

People drink from the kos shel bracha at a wedding as a segulah.

People recite the entire sefer of tehillem as a segulah.

Etc.

So when I was "translating" the words in my head, trying to figure out what I was singing, "Am Segulah" never translated to 'treasured nation' or 'treasured people,' because that wasn't my association with the word 'segulah.'

And I'm kind of curious if we truly see ourselves as an "Am Segulah".

Do we view ourselves as something to be treasured?

Do we view ourselves as a group that deserves Divine protection and love and care?

I know that I personally don't.

Nothing about my life thus far has even hinted to me that I'm truly loved or cared for or treasured by humans OR God.

And I look around at all the awfulness that has happened to the Jews over the last 3000 years and I wonder how we lose our way so quickly in practically every generation.

Is it a self fulfilling prophesy?

Like in the story of Yoseph haTzaddik that we've been discussing in recent parshios - he told his family his dreams about them all bowing to him and THEY interpreted it as them treating him like a king. If they hadn't interpreted it that way or if he hadn't shared the dreams with them at all, would they have gotten mad at him and tried to get rid of him? Would the famine in Egypt have happened at all? Would Klal Yisrael have ever ended up in slavery in Mitzrayim?

How much of what we go through is predetermined and how much of it is the consequence of our own individual and collective actions?

For the majority of the Shabbossim over the last year I've spent time reading Jewish history books, most of which is stories or overviews of particular Rabbis from various eras, but the rest of it is just one horrid story after another. More in-fighting, more persecution, more exile. It's a never ending cycle that we just can't seem to break.

One story that continuously sticks out in my mind since reading about it earlier this year is the accounts of what happened in Eretz Yisrael globally and Yerushalayim specifically during the Chorban Bayis Sheini. It is absolutely horrific.

In elementary and middle school they dumb stuff down for us, so we end up with the childhood song lyrics that stick with us into adulthood that warp our ideas of the entire situation. Lyrics like:

(TOGETHER BY ABIE ROTENBERG) I am an ancient wall of stone, atop a hill so high. And if you listen with your heart, you just may hear my cry. Where has the Bais Hamikdash gone, I stand here all alone. How long am I to wait for all my children to come home? A house of marble and of gold once stood here by my side. From far and wide all came to see its beauty and its pride. But Sin’as Chinam brought it down, and with it so much pain. Now only Ahavas Yisroel can build it once again. CHORUS 1: Together, together, you stood by Har Sinai, my daughters and sons. Forever, forever, you must stand together forever as one.

And with this "romantic" version of the Kotel longing for a Bais Hamikdash we can't relate to, destroyed in a time and controversy we don't understand, we have absolutely no idea how horrific the actual circumstances were because nobody speaks about it.

"But Sinas Chinam brought it down"

Do we even know what that means?

We come up with so many of our own contemporary examples but those are seriously watered down versions of the appalling and gruesome things that were happening that caused the complete destruction of the Bais Hamikdash.

I'm 35 years old. I've been through orthodox Jewish day schools and I've been to seminary.

And never once did I hear anyone discuss it, even when we visited locations like Massada.

Nobody wants to address the harsh realities.

But how are we supposed to recognize the deeply rooted problems in order to fix them if nobody is willing to talk about it?

Rabbi Berel Wein and Rabbi David Fohrman are two of the few Rabbis I've seen discuss any of this darkness.

Rabbi Wein discusses it in his 1990s book trilogy on Jewish history. Most of Jewish history happens against a complex and continuously active and morphing secular political background, but Jews turning against Jews in the streets outside the Bais Hamikdash was OUR fault.

It was US vs US.

The streets of Yerushalayim ran red as Jewish people slaughtered each other in cold blood over disagreements. All while daily karbanos were still being accepted by Hashem in the Bais Hamikdash.

We literally can't wrap our heads around what that means.

We don't understand what it means to truly despise each other that much over nothing.

We've just exited Chanukah and it's a celebration that isn't taught in full context either.

Whenever we discussed Chanukah in grade school and even in seminary, we never went into deep discussions about the war that was being fought by the Macabees. Everything taught about the story of Chanukah was just so superficial, which is crazy because there's so much more context and nuance that lends insight into who we are as a people and what it means to survive, all of which is never really touched on.

Chanukah was not the end of the war. It was a miraculous respite in the form of a won battle and a small jar of oil. But it was not a won war.

The Bais Hamikdash still stood during the Chanukah story, but it doesn't anymore. The end of that story was not a positive one.

We annually celebrate a momentary victory of such "minor" proportions that the holiday wasn't even instituted until a year after it occurred because the leaders of the time weren't even sure what to make of it right away.

But nobody talks about how and why the Hasmonean dynasty (the Macabee family) died out and has no descendants alive today. One of the descendants became the Kohen Gadol and literally imprisoned and murdered his own family members, including his mother. (I highly recommend the Aleph Beta videos for insight into this with a positive conclusion).

We all just want to white wash history into an "everyone hates the Jews, but we didn't do anything wrong" narrative and that's just not true. We are constantly doing wrong. That's why we haven't earned the 3rd and final Bais Hamikdash yet.

And I've been raised by pessimistic people who suffer from anxiety and depression that has been coded into their DNA by previous generations who suffered from anxiety and depression, and so my outlook has always been more negative and I tend to focus on the negative more often than I should.

And this means that when I talk to friends who have experienced something negative in the frum world or I read accounts online, whether it's here on tumblr or in a frum group on facebook, and when I see some of the disgusting comments left by people who don't care that their name and their family members' names will forever be associated with that comment, I immediately think "well, color me unsurprised. it's cuz we're all horrible failures who treat each other like garbage. we are undeserving of anything good. why are we even here?"

So I'm rarely emotionally effected by this stuff because it just seems unfortunately "normal" to me. And reading these historic accounts and seeing how awful we've been to each other for millennia.... I'm just continually unsurprised by the negative things that result here in the modern world.

I think that's one of the reasons I've been so "unaffected" by this war.

Because in my mind it's "of course this is happening. we've grown too comfortable, too complacent. and that complacency leads to us treating each other like trash, which leads to yet another pogrom."

Because "when the yidden don't make kiddush, the goyim make havdalah."

It happened in Mitzrayim. It happened in Shushan. It happened in Germany.

We like to say "never again" in reference to the Holocaust, but what are we saying?

It seems like more often than not we're saying "we won't let the goyim kill our people" but we have no control over that.

Hashem does.

The only things we have control over are our own actions. And our own actions, when focused on the things we're supposed to be doing, are what will prevent the goyim from killing us.

But it always starts with us.

And I'm trying, dear Future Husband. I'm really trying.

I know most of what I do is wrong. And I'm trying to correct myself. I'm often so stuck inside my own head that my constant failures are all I can think about and it makes positive change harder than pushing a boulder up a steep hill, but I'm trying.

I visited Israel for a short time earlier this year for the first time since seminary and I got pushback from pretty much everyone I spoke to when I told them that, despite having plans to stay in a city outside of Yerushalayim which I had to catch a bus for, and shlepping huge bags with me, I wanted to visit the Kosel first thing.

"You can do that later in the week when you're settled."

"You'll end up missing your bus if you're shlepping all over Yerushalayim when you get in."

But it was important to me and I couldn't understand how it wasn't important to everyone else.

Upon entering the land that even Moshe Rabbeinu didn't have the privilege to step foot in, how could the Kosel - the location of the greatest tragedies in Jewish history, and the holiest place on earth - not be my first stop??

How could tearing kriyah not be the first thing I do?

In fact, when I told people I needed to go and tear kriyah, some of them even asked "oh, you do that?" as though it's not an accepted thing to tear kriyah at the site of ultimate sadness in Jewish life and history. Some people told me I should wait until rosh chodesh so I wouldn't have to tear, because "loophole!"

To me, not visiting the Kosel first thing would be like being away from your parents' house for decades and then coming to stay in your old bedroom without saying hello to them first. Such a slap in the face. (And this is coming from someone who grew up in a family steeped in dysfunction and doesn't speak to her father...)

But so many people wanted me to push it off because it would be "an inconvenience."

THAT is what I mean when I say we are complacent.

THAT is what I mean when I say we are too comfortable.

I know so many people who live in Yerushalayim and when I was there and asked some of them the last time they visited the Kosel, I got numbers ranging from weeks to months. (A few said days, but not most).

Because "life gets in the way" and "we get busy."

And I know I'm not perfect in any way, shape, or form, but that honestly blew my mind and made me feel differently about everyone, and not in a good way.

Which just reinforces my negativity, which is even more problematic...

But I keep trying anyway.

How I wish Hashem would speak to me more clearly than the cryptic messages He sends me like this odd "coincidence" of the term "Am Segulah". Because I don't know what this message means.

Maybe it's a nod to the idea that we are cherished despite not feeling like we are. Maybe it's a message to tell me that I need to think more positively. Or maybe it's something else that I won't understand until the day that I die. I have no idea.

Regardless, wherever you are, I hope that you are trying too.

Because these are trying times. And all we can do is try.

-LivelyHeart

[missingn000]

okayokayokay, listen, i started a TPG reread after the last chapter you posted because i was hopped up on my love of this fic, and i finally had to enough free time to get to the chapter where shoko comes over to dinner for the first time aND I JUST LOVE HER (and nanami) SO FUCKING MUCH??!

shoko was a character that i genuinely almost never thought about before this fic. she was simply just, there, when i watched the show, and while her small parts in the hidden inventory arc were enjoyable i basically just went back to never thinking about her. AND THEN YOUR FIC COMES AROUND AND ACTUALLY I LOVE HER SO MUCH AND SHE MAKES ME SO SAD?! you just write her so well, and everything about how she is written by you makes so much sense. one of your utmost strengths as a writer is being able to extrapolate character personalities into their highest potential. every time you've introduced a character and forced us to contend with their emotions and thought processes, i'm astounded by how seamless it is. it never feels out of place or tacked on. it's always just "yeah, obviously this is how this character would think/act/feel, makes total sense with everything we know of them from canon."

AND THEN NANASHOKO WHICH I HAVE ALREADY YELLED ABOUT SO MANY TIMES BUT AGHAFDGKHFDAHJL (<- had to be tazed) their interactions have me eating drywall. like, she has his hoodie?? from highschool??? i'm going to go insane!??? also i am realizing how beautiful it is that really the first big thing nanami does after coming back to sorcery and accepting that loving people even at the risk of hurt is worth it, is he goes and begins the process of rescuing shouko from the same fate he was heading towards??? he wants to protect people now and he goES AND GETS HER (even if that wasnt his original intent when he went to visit her but i digress) anyway, i love your writing, you have made me love a character i did not ever expect to ever really care about, and then handed me a ship for said character that makes me want to go koolaid man through my wall <3 also sick of losing soulmates by dodie is such a nanashoko song it came on my spotify shuffle and i then lost my mind

PLEASE OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO SWEET...honestly, i wish shoko got more attention in canon!! even in the arc where we saw more of her backstory, the spotlight was still on stsg basically the whole time and we didn't learn much more about her. i've had to do a lot of extrapolation from what we know of her in canon, but it's so flattering that you think her more fleshed-out characterization in tpg is compelling and believable!!

AS FOR NANASHOKO...THEY OWN MY WHOLE HEART. i feel immensely accomplished by how many people have said they never considered the ship before but love it now. i think there's a very delicate balance to strike in terms of shipping characters that are similar -- they need to be able to relate to each other in a way no one else can, but also be different enough for their dynamic to still be interesting. and shoko stealing nanami's hoodies makes me feral too like ohhh theyre so. oughh. i love them. anyways i listened to that song and it ruined me so thank you for that and for this lovely message!!!

[iwannawritelots]

This is just a song for an aspect of Cinna (my MC)’s relationship with each of the babes. Obviously not too in depth but… hehe. Maybe I’ll do it more than once since I am self-shipping so hard… comfort… it’s difficult picking just one song for Barbatos and Simeon particularly lmao. ALSO if you’d want to do this too please tag me??? I love seeing this stuff shskdhd (my MC is polyamorous (demiromantic)

SPOILERS for season 3 in Dia’s section. I avoided explicit spoilers in Belphie and Simeon’s sections but Dia’s song only makes sense if the spoilers are said outright sorryyyy

Idk if this has been done before but like??? I like doing stuff with my MC… I blame my mutuals for making such good MC content (affectionate).

Lucifer💙

Monster - Adventure Time (feat. Olivia Olson & Half Shy)

This is definitely more from Lucifer’s perspective. In-game he definitely doesn’t like to be vulnerable, which is an issue between him and Cinna (a huge issue, frankly). He gets better with each season so I suppose this would be the aspect of him showing affection more clearly over time.

Mammon💛

Heart Attack - Demi Lovato

Definitely from Mammon’s perspective lmao. Mammon is a tsundere with MC in-game but has been described as basically a sex god in the past so he clearly only acts ridiculous when he likes someone (and has conflicting feelings) like he seems to in game. He wants to impress them, but kind of makes a fool of himself in the process quite often. Denying his feelings (whether because that’s just how he processes romantic feelings or because of fear of another Lilith-like event) is his go-to, though he is well aware he is in love. He wants Cinna to say something first, but they don’t fall in love nearly as fast as he does. Mammon’s frustration is real. (Sorry Mammon.)

Leviathan🧡

Malfunction - Steam Powered Giraffe

There’s literally no escaping anxiety for either of these two, but as Cinna is better learning to take care of themself, Levi is being taken into this as well (this goes for Barbatos and Asmodeus too, frankly, but this section isn’t about them). Cinna won’t let Levi get away with negative self-talk, and they expect him to call them out when they slip up as well. Accepting their own issues is key here, and Cinna is dragging Levi kicking and screaming if they have to at a certain point tbh.

Satan💚

Home - Cavetown

Both perspectives, I think. Satan and Cinna bond a lot after Cinna learns to adjust to his wrath, and Cinna confides in him about their mental illness/trauma, gender dysphoria, and feeling broken before anyone else. They both share conflicting feelings towards Lucifer, and have identity issues (for different reasons of course). Of course, they also share a love of literature and cats (and vengeance). They feel they can rely on each other, even if at first Cinna is a bit on edge with Satan. It’s a bit surprising (or perhaps not) that Asmodeus was the first to be romantically involved with Cinna.

Asmodeus💘

Boys Like You - Dodie

This is from both sides. Asmodeus definitely would believe Cinna is only interested because of his status of avatar of lust, and Cinna definitely would think Asmodeus is only interested because they’re an easy target (in the beginning of their relationship). They would be sexually involved first before Cinna ends up realizing they actually like Asmodeus romantically. It’s especially a slow burn romantically since sexual and romantic attraction aren’t necessarily related for either of them (plus it seems like Asmodeus isn’t even used to someone being genuinely interested in him).

Beelzebub❤️

The Jam Song - Steven Universe (feat. Zach Callison and Grace Rolek)

These two aren’t particularly close, but Beel becomes a safe space for Cinna nonetheless. They can hang out in company and Cinna might teach Beel cute little songs (like this one haha) once they’re comfortable enough.

Belphegor💜

Change Your Mind - Steven Universe (feat. Zach Callison)

Both sides…? Mostly Cinna considering lesson 16. They end up being unable to stand Belphegor no matter how hard they try, though.

Lord Diavolo❣️

Heather - Conan Gray

From Diavolo’s perspective. By season 3, Cinna doesn’t really have any romantic interest in him at all, so his confession is… rejected, unfortunately. Dia is constantly watching them be involved with others, even his butler, but they won’t give him that kind of love. Of course, Cinna wants to be his friend, so there’s that!

Barbatos🖤

Dasher - Gerard Way (feat. Lydia Night)

Both sides but mostly from Barbatos’ perspective. Wanting attention, wanting the love that Cinna seems to have, but unable to get himself to grasp it (at first). They definitely are slow burn altogether since Cinna gets super nervous about Barbatos, and Barbatos isn’t sure how Cinna feels. They both think about each other a lot until they end up actually addressing their feelings for each other, which ends up becoming an improvement for both of them.

Simeon🤍

Stiff Kittens - Blaqk Audio

This is kinda weird tbh…? It’s like a push and pull of both perspectives. Lesson 16 and lesson 38 (& 75) make them both change for better or worse, and as time goes on they feel different but intertwined with each other all the same. They become closer through their respective hurdles and have in some ways abandoned their expectations given by each other as well as those surrounding them. Their love remains despite it all.

Solomon🤎

Build a Little World with Me - Laura Shigihara

Both perspectives…? Probably more Solomon. They both end up closer because they’re humans, but also Cinna becoming Solomon’s apprentice. With the fact that Cinna is mortal (for now…), Solomon has to accept they are temporary in his life. He feels happier having someone in his life for genuine companionship, and Cinna loves his company. Solomon’s romantic feelings are on the back burner because of Cinna’s mortality (and apparent lack of romantic interest in him).

Mephistopheles💟

Under My Skin - Jukebox The Ghost

They probably really piss off each other at first, not gonna lie. His pride is somehow not worse than Lucifer’s but it’s a whole different kind of pride and it makes Cinna fucking apeshit. They get to know him better and eventually start to like him quite a bit, but Mephisto seems indifferent towards them at best.

Raphael💔

The Piano Duet - Danny Elfman

I really wanted to keep them all with lyrics but honestly I think this fits Raphael and Cinna well. Raphael slowly letting Cinna in, getting comfortable with them, and eventually they’re romantically involved (probably past season 4). Bonding over small things and admiring each other in small ways until it’s possibly something more.

Thirteen❤️‍🩹

She’s so Mean - Matchbox Twenty

I literally had to rely on the scraps of Thirteen they gave us in season four and my headcanons for this decision. She had the least amount of screentime of the new three ugh. Anyways, I feel like this fits Cinna and Thirteen! Thirteen is a bit sassy and always making traps and trying to kill Solomon. Cinna frankly just finds her interesting honestly. They might get involved at some point but in-game stuff isn’t helping a lot here.

[wrappedupinlight]

“ ♫ ” ( robin & tammy / i’m testing her out these days. c’: )

𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙳  “ ♫ ”  𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 𝟹 - 𝟻 𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙸 𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙾𝙲𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚂 ,      *   bonus points if receiver specifies lyrics ! : Still Accepting! <3

crimson and clover by the shacks: i meannnnnn, “now I don't hardly know her, but I think I could love her”??? writes itself!! <333

she by dodie: do i NEED to explain this one-- jkjk lol, so much of it works but specifically “she means everything to me, i’d never tell, no i’d never say a word”

honey by kehlani: “All the pretty girls in the world, But I'm in this space with you-- I came to find, my fire was fate with you, heartache would stay with you”

mindme - get me out of here: (sorryyyy) “'Cause when you get too close, I lose my way and I freeze, I wish you knew what power you have over me”

fool - frankie cosmos: honestly like!! i feel like each time i listen to this song i get a slightly different interpretation from it depending on what i put it to tbh?? but just,,, the whole “your name is a triangle, your heart is a square” bit feels very like!! indicative to how maybe lost and confused robin would be about tammy in re: to her feelings,,, or what they are,, or what they’d ever potentially *be.* idk, i fucked myself thinkin about it

(( ok as a (not so honorable) mention,,, it twas brought to my attention by a lovely friend (binch) of mine to also add this one here,,, im so sorry ))

[carcinized]

thank god dodie wrote before the line

[bi-bard]

dodie Songs That Would Describe Relationships with the Murder Husbands - Hannibal Preference [NBC's Hannibal]

Title: dodie Songs That Would Describe Relationships with the Murder Husbands

Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter

Word Count: 2,731 words

Warning(s): (Will's) mention of attack/murder, (Hannibal's) mention of murder

Author's Note: I was gonna do a third part to "Taylor Swift Songs That Would Describe Relationship with the Murder Husbands" but that felt like too much... but I'll do it if people want it.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

**I did not change the pronouns of the lyrics, but this is written with a gender-neutral reader**

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

Will Graham:

A Friday in the Life of Richard and Betty

Make a home in nowhere Make a home with me

I never thought that I would find myself at peace while living in near isolation.

I thought that living in a city would always be the best option for me. I would like to believe that many people who grew up in small towns have the same thought.

But here I was.

I was living in a cabin in the woods... and I was happy there.

After everything that happened with Hannibal and Mason and the F.B.I., it almost felt natural for Will and me to pack up and run for the hills.

We found a small place tucked away from the rest of the world. It was a beautiful place. Surrounded by trees, sitting on a lake. It felt like it was too nice to be our reality.

We both still had a thing for taking in strays.

We had enough dogs for a small army.

And we were at peace.

I was out throwing a few toys around in the yard. I was laughing as the dogs all jumped around and barked at me. It was a dream.

I turned around when one of the dogs took off running to the porch. I saw Will standing up there with a grin on his face. I grinned back before starting to walk over to him.

"Morning," I muttered as I kissed his cheek.

"Morning," he grumbled back, wrapping his arm around me. "You let me sleep in."

I nodded. "You looked peaceful. I wasn't going to interrupt that."

He leaned over and pecked my lips.

"I am pretty happy that you're awake," I said.

"Why's that?"

"Because I need to wash the sheets," I replied.

I went to step away so I could head inside. My wrist was grabbed before I could get too far away from him. I was pulled back over to Will.

I sighed at him as he wrapped his arms around me. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Not yet," he mumbled.

"Not yet?"

He shook his head. I chuckled at him.

One of my hands started messing with the hair on the nape of his neck. His eyes closed as he rested his forehead on mine.

"Will," I said softly. He hummed in response. "I love you."

His eyes opened again. "I love you too."

And for just a moment, I accepted that maybe we had earned this life.

The life that was perfect for both of us.

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Yeah, I'm sick of losing soulmates, won't be alone again I can finally see, you're as fucked up as me So how do we win?

"I came here to be alone."

I knew that. I just had trouble accepting it. The idea of leaving Will on his own in that house made me feel sick to my stomach. Too much had happened there for me to leave him there.

"Maybe you should have mentioned that before you ran off," I replied, going to sit next to him on the floor.

I looked out in front of us.

It was like it all was happening again. Abigail was lying on the floor with her throat slit. Will was desperately trying to cover up that wound while he was almost gutted. I was crawling on the floor with blood seeping through my shirt.

I could feel the dull ache in my body again. Like the wounds had never healed at all.

"I'm sorry," Will said quietly.

I closed my eyes.

It took a moment for me to reply, "I almost lost you."

I heard him sigh.

"I can't lose you, Will," I muttered, opening my eyes to look at him again. "I... I can't do that. I've had so much taken from me already. And seeing you on that floor..."

I trailed off, shaking my head.

The attack left something sitting between the two of us. Like scar tissue had built up between us. Neither one of us wanted to touch it out of fear of something breaking open. My confession... me admitting my fear... it was the first time we had actually spoken about the attack.

"(Y/n)," Will spoke up after a moment. I took a deep breath, trying to blink away some tears. His hand found mine, the fingers intertwining carefully. "Look at me. Please."

I turned my face to his.

There was a moment of us sitting in silence for a few moments. I think more had been said in the midst of that silence than had been said in the weeks following the attack. It made me feel ridiculous to admit that.

Slowly, Will leaned over and pressed his lips to mine.

I felt a tear roll down my face as my eyes closed.

Both of us were broken.

We both were covered in our fair share of scars and bruises.

But all we truly had was each other.

And if clinging to Will was the only way to keep me from spiraling, then I could live with that.

Human

Will you share your soul with me? Unzip your skin and let me have a see

Will never seemed like one to share his true thoughts.

He seemed like someone that would layer his thoughts in riddles and metaphors until you forget what you were originally asking about.

I had decided to drive Will home after a case. He seemed exhausted and burdened by something. If I could help in some way, then I was going to.

I had followed him inside, telling him to go shower and change while I took care of the dogs. It took a few tries, but I eventually managed to pull the dogs away from the bathroom door long enough to get them to go outside and go potty.

I took the brief moment of peace to look around the house. It always looked a little lived-in. It was hard to have seven dogs and keep up with housework, but Will seemed to do a pretty good job with it.

My eyes froze on the bed.

There were two towels on the mattress. One was mostly flat while the other had been wrinkled up.

I furrowed my eyebrows. I wouldn't usually be one to question another person's habits, but I felt a need to do so in this situation.

Will walked out in a new set of clothes just as I was letting all of the dogs in. They all ran to him immediately.

"Hey," I said, pulling his attention away from the avalanche of puppies. "Why are there towels on your bed?"

He looked over at the towels. "I forgot to pick them up this morning."

"That's not quite what I was asking."

I saw him tense a bit. He knew that I wasn't going to let this go.

"I use them when I wake up from nightmares," he said. "They've been happening more recently. The towels help with the sweat."

I nodded, just trying to show that I understood. "I... I could stay."

Will raised an eyebrow at me.

"That way if you do wake up, then you aren't completely alone," I continued. "It might help."

"I couldn't ask you to do that."

I scoffed. "Well, then it's a good thing that I'm offering."

"(Y/n), you don't have to-"

"I know. But if I can help you somehow, then I would rather try to help you-"

"Why?"

I furrowed my eyebrows again.

"Why are you offering," he explained. "Why are you so desperate to help me?"

There was a pause. A long, tense pause where we were just looking at each other.

"I... I just always feel better when I'm protecting someone," I muttered after a while. "I've... failed at that a few times. Maybe I'm trying to make up for it."

I watched Will's shoulders and chest move as he took a deep breath.

"I'll go, if that's what you want," I mumbled. "I... I shouldn't have-"

Will stepped closer to me. My sentence died on my tongue as my mind registered the lack of distance between us. I looked into his eyes, trying to find some indication of what he was planning.

"You have a scar," he almost whispered. "On your neck... just behind your ear... is that-"

"A result of my failure? Yes."

I didn't see Will's hand move. I just felt his fingertips graze the scarred skin as if it were a piece of fragile art.

I watched his eyes trace the wound. All I could think of was how desperately I wanted to know him. Every scar, every good memory, every time he had moved when he was younger. From the mundane to the life-altering... I wanted to see all of him... know all of him.

"Will..."

He leaned forward slowly, letting his lips brush mine.

It took me a matter of milliseconds to close the distance properly and kiss him. My hands brushed his sides. One of his hands barely touched the side of my neck. His fingers carefully avoided touching my scar. I almost grinned against his lips at the thought.

For those few seconds, we were both lost in our own world. Nothing existed outside of that little house.

I was only pulled out of our small moment when I heard someone sniffing near us.

I pulled away from the kiss and looked down. One of the dogs was next to us, sniffing me suspiciously. I was a stranger in their house. I needed to be checked.

I heard Will chuckle at the interruption.

I looked back at him.

"Are you staying," he asked.

I grinned and nodded, letting my thumbs draw small circles on his side. "For as long as you'll let me."

Hannibal Lecter:

Help Myself

I'll scratch till I'm raw I'll fuck him tonight When it hurts so much more You can say you were right

How long could one's mind keep a person from looking back at what they had done?

I asked that question many times.

I was beginning to doubt that my mind would ever have a good answer for me.

Following Hannibal felt natural. Letting him sweep me up and bring me to Europe with him felt natural.

My mind wanted to be in this state of ignorance. I wanted to believe that I hadn't truly seen all of Hannibal. My life would be so much easier that way.

But there were times when what I witnessed crawled into the forefront of my mind. I could see the blood and the violence and the gore. I could see every part of Hannibal. My stomach would churn, and my vision would be soured.

Hannibal could always see when my mind was drawn into that state.

I knew that I wasn't completely safe with him. When it became necessary, he could kill me with little hesitation. I would be nothing but another victim.

But he would always pull me away from those thoughts.

His arms would wrap around me. His lips find my skin; a line traced from my cheek to my jaw to my neck. He would cover me in love and affection until my mind went blank and I could blindly fall into his arms.

No danger could matter to me anymore.

As long as he was kissing me and holding me, then I could believe that we were perfect.

And when my end came, I knew some part of my mind would say "I told you so. But when I was in his arms, I could live in this state of bliss.

I could allow myself to believe in nothing but the love he had for me.

When

I'll take what I can get Cause I'm too damp for a spark Kissing sickly sweet guys Cause they say they like my eyes But I'd only ever see them in the dark

I couldn't remember how we had gotten onto the subject of my opinions about dating and romance.

I knew that we had been talking about my hesitation when it came to genuine connection. That somehow shifted to me waltzing around Hannibal's office while I preached from my soapbox.

"I just can't deal with the first dates, the getting to know people, the inevitable disappointment," I rambled. "I find all of it so... pointless."

"They're necessary parts of establishing healthy relationships," Hannibal replied. "Long-lasting relationships."

"Maybe I'm not cut out for long-lasting," I shrugged.

"You recognize that you have problems making long-lasting connections, yet you seem dismissive of many major parts," he explained.

"Yup."

"Have you been let down a lot when you have attempted to make those lasting connections," he asked. "Is that why you're so dismissive?"

I paused, a little shocked that he asked so blatantly.

Hannibal quietly nodded when I didn't respond. He looked down at his notes, scribbling something down.

He looked at the clock. "We can continue this discussion at your next appointment if you'd like."

I slowly nodded.

He stood from his chair and started to guide me to the door.

He stopped just before he opened it. "(Y/n)."

"Yeah," I asked.

"You are not unlovable."

I paused again.

Why was it so easy for him to see through everything I said?

If I'm Being Honest

Could you love this? Will this one be right? Well if I'm being honest, I'm hoping it might Could you love this? Did you plan to fall? Well if I'm being honest, oh I bet it's not that at all

I had never been as nervous as I was walking into Hannibal's home for the first time.

I had mentioned my habit of falling into a cycle of three meals that I would eat on a regular basis. Hannibal mentioned that he could help to teach me some new recipes.

He felt a need to give me this cooking lesson in his own house.

And now, I was here.

I was standing on the other side of his counter, watching him cut up a few vegetables on the cutting board. I was waiting for some kind of task.

"Are you okay," he asked.

I nodded. "I'm just waiting for you to tell me what to do."

"I don't want you to get distracted by focusing on one small part of the entire image," he explained. "That's why you're watching."

"Okay," I chuckled and nodded.

There was another pause between us.

"There's something else on your mind," he pointed out. "Care to discuss it?"

He was right.

Everything about this night felt weird. Especially because of some of what Hannibal had said during our sessions. It all felt like it added up to more than simple kindness. I just hadn't wanted to push the subject. I wanted to believe that I was reading too far into it all.

"(Y/n)."

I took a deep breath, feeling my heart rate spike.

"You said that you were certain that I wasn't unlovable," I said. "You insisted on it, in fact."

"I did."

"I want to know what led you to say that."

A grin pulled at the corner of Hannibal's mouth. "Is it not obvious?"

"I'm not typically a fan of assuming someone's intentions or motivations," I replied.

My heart sped up more as he placed the knife he was holding on the countertop and started walking over to me. I tried to stand up a bit taller as he made his way over to me. Something in his eyes told me that my attempt to seem braver didn't work on him.

He stopped just in front of me.

He was waiting for me to move away from him. When I didn't, his hands cupped my cheeks. He leaned in and kissed me gently. I hesitantly kissed him back.

I had never realized how much I had wanted this kind of affection. Not just a kiss, but everything behind it. The emotion behind it. It all felt so intense.

Hannibal leaned back a few moments later.

"Are you okay," he asked quietly.

I nodded. "Yeah. That... That was really nice. That's all."

His smile formed again.

He stepped back again and went back to cooking.

I smiled a bit and turned back to watch him.

For just a moment, I allowed myself to believe that there was more to love than the "bullshit" that I had known.

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

Author's Note: "Help Myself" might be my favorite dodie song right now. It is so beautiful and well written. I adore it.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[trash-gona]

Soo, decided to make dabihawks playlist of many of my favorite songs that reminded me of them or one of them individually 😌 (alternate name for the playlist was flaming strings and hotwings 🤡)

some of the songs from the playlist :

dodie - burned out

//Don't build hope on something broken, I am not cartoon. Cry for help, I am not joking, I might just leave soon.//

grandson - blood//water

//Beg me for mercy, admit you were toxic. You poisoned me just for another dollar in your pocket. Now I am the violence, I am the sickness. Won't accept your silence, beg me for forgiveness. //

pink ft. lily allen - true love

//At the same time, I wanna hug you, I wanna wrap my hands around your neck. You're an asshole but I love you. //

the mountain goats - no children

//I am drowning, there is no sign of land. You are coming down with me, hand in unlovable hand. //

marina - seventeen

//You teach me how to behave. I felt you question the way, I was brought up as a baby. Well you don't know fuck about my family. //

sam fender - seventeen going under

//I was far too scared to hit him, but I would hit him in a heartbeat now. That's the thing with anger, it begs to stick around. //

Here's some new songs I've added:

taylor swift - my tears ricochet

//I didn't have it in myself to go with grace and you're the hero flying around, saving face. And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed. Look at how my tears ricochet. //

tony jay, tom hulce - out there (this song reminds me some much of Hawks and the HPSC 😩)

//Out there they'll revile you as a monster. (I am a monster) Out there they will hate and scorn and jeer. (Only a monster) Why invite their calumny and consternation. Stay in here, be faithful to me. (I'm faithful) Grateful to me. (I'm grateful) Do as I say, obey and stay in here. //

joey batey - burn butcher burn

//At the end of my days when I'm through, no word that I've written will ring quite as true as "burn!" Burn, butcher, burn. Burn, butcher, burn. //

the civil wars - devil's backbone

//Oh Lord, Oh Lord, he's somewhere between, a hangman's knot, and three mouths to feed. There wasn't a wrong or a right he could choose, he did what he had to do. Oh he did what he had to do. //

fall out boy - disloyal order of water buffaloes

//I'm coming apart at the seams, pitching myself for leads in other people's dreams. Like buzz, buzz, buzz. Doc, there's a hole where something was. Doc, there's a hole where something was. //