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#here is the deepest secret nobody knows
amee-racle-ofmyown · 3 months
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MORE here is the deepest secret fanart for @buc-eebarnes because man, despite being one of the first fics I read in this fandom, it still holds true as one of my absolute faves <3
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betterdcyz · 2 years
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Joe Goldberg: 10 seconds.
Send me what you think my muse would be like in bed and they’ll respond / accepting !!
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             “That happened once.”
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mellifluouaamor · 2 months
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MASH BURNEDEAD, FINN AMES, LANCE CROWN, DOT BARRETT, RAYNE AMES, ABEL WALKER, ABYSS RAZOR, WIRTH MADL, CARPACCIO LUO-YANG, ORTER MADL (SEPARATE) ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER
synopsis. his reaction to you asking him, “what if i suddenly disappeared one day?”
author's note. reader's relationship with the boys is up to your interpretation! but reader is implied to be orter's betrothed here c;
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as a blank look crosses his face, MASH almost drops the cream puff he was eating upon registering your question. he stops for a moment to think what exactly made you ask him that, but when he can't come up with any reason he decides to ask you a question of his own. "did something happen?"
when you don't answer him, he clenches a fist beside his head. someone must be threatening you - why else would you ask him that out of nowhere? "tell me his name. i'll punch the stuffing out of him so he doesn't bother you again."
mash is puzzled when you wave your hands around frantically, claiming that nobody is bothering you. "i was just curious!" you exclaim, "don't think about it too deeply. i just wanna know how you'd feel and what you'd do if it happens."
he hums thoughtfully as he continues eating his cream puff. the thought of you suddenly disappearing makes his chest feel heavy. losing you is like losing his pops - but ten times worse. he visibly deflates and stops eating, which worries you. when you place a hand on his shoulder, mash grabs that same hand and pulls you towards him.
"if you suddenly disappeared one day... i'll be sad. but i'll find you," he says, cupping your cheek which grows warm under his touch, "and i'll keep trying until i do."
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FINN would stare at you like you've just told the entire world his deepest and darkest secret. a few seconds pass, and the freckled first-year then clings to your sleeve as if he's a child about to be left behind by his mother. "wh-what? why would you ask that? where would you go? why would you go? is... is everything okay...?"
you could tell that he's becoming more anxious with every second that ticks by from the way he's clenching his fists against your robe. you reassure him that everything is okay and he relaxes a little, but he's still bothered by your question.
"then why are you asking me...?" he asks, trailing off. he's starting to think that you're actually hiding something from him and becomes jittery again. he grips your arm tightly, afraid that you'll disappear into thin air if he doesn't, and you wince; you swear that he's cutting off the blood circulation in your arm.
when you tell him that you're only asking for fun, that does little to ease his nerves. "but i can't get it out of my head! i'm scared- i don't want you to disappear without a trace!"
for the next few days, finn would become extra clingy and glue himself to your side whenever he can. lance and dot would cast judging looks his way, but he couldn't care less. as long as he's with you, there's no way you'd suddenly disappear, right?
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LANCE rolls his eyes at your question. "like that'll ever happen. you don't even know how to cast the transportation spell properly." despite his words, he's a bit concerned that something might be happening to you behind his back or you're sick, and you're not telling him about it.
"oh come on, you know that's not what i meant!" you exclaim, "just answer my question!" he lets out a quiet sigh. folding his arms over his chest, he stares straight ahead and thinks about what he'd do if you were suddenly gone from the academy one day.
"there's not much to do except to ask your friends and teachers where you went. if they don't know, then i'll search for you myself." there's a pause, and you tilt your head curiously as he looks down, his bangs casting a shadow over his eyes. "i'll keep looking until i find you." after that, lance doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day.
the following morning, your friends tell you that lance was borderline interrogating them about your private life last night, making you internally question his intentions. you can feel someone's gaze on your back as you go about your day, making you scared of the prospect of someone stalking you.
you also notice that lance has been overly attentive towards your activities over the course of the week, asking questions such as, "where's your next class? which friend are you going to sit with? what class do you have after that?"
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DOT doesn't think much about it at first and just laughs. "disappear? where are you even planning to go?" with a beam, he slings an arm over your shoulder. "don't think of going anywhere without me! wherever you go, i'll follow!"
you laugh along, unable to continue the conversation with how much of a cheery fellow he is.
later on, dot's mind would drift back to your question. he knits his eyebrows together, wondering why you would even ask him that. is someone bullying you? or maybe... he stands up abruptly and slams his hands on his desk, disrupting the class as he shouts, "I OFFENDED THEM WITHOUT KNOWING?!"
even when he's told to stand outside of the classroom until the class ends as punishment, he couldn't stop thinking about it. he's itching to barge into your classroom to ask you, but holds himself back from getting into further trouble.
during one of your breaks, dot would pull you aside and hold your shoulders firmly as he stares into your wide eyes. "look, i'm sorry for whatever i did. i'll apologise a thousand times if i have to," he says, and after a brief pause he adds, "just don't go anywhere i can't follow."
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RAYNE is immediately alarmed by your question, and he turns to face you with his usual frown deepening. he then grabs your arm to prevent you from leaving and asks, "what do you mean? spit it out. what happened?"
he won't let you go until you tell him everything. he doesn't even bother hiding the fact that he's worried, and the worst case scenario keeps surfacing in his mind. this is why he didn't want people knowing that you're close to him; you might be used against him, or even worse, hurt because of him.
"please, (y/n). tell me if something's wrong," he implores. he can't bear the thought you disappearing right before his eyes, and he really thinks that your life is in danger. even when you say that you're asking the question in a general sense, he's not about to take any chances.
rayne would ask max to look after you in his place and to keep tabs on your activities, as well as the people you'd frequently interact with. max thinks that he's overthinking but does it all anyway because he understands rayne's concern for your safety and well-being.
rayne would also make an effort to spend more time with you outside of classes so that he can guard you himself. you'll have to give him plenty of reassurance to convince him that nobody is out to get you.
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ABEL drops his doll; that's how shocked he feels when you asked him that haunting question. why would you ask him that, knowing that he had lost his mother when he was a child? do you want to torture him by disappearing without a single trace of your existence?
you immediately regret asking him that and try to apologise. before any words could leave your mouth, abel pulls you into a tight hug with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other around your shoulders. his gesture catches you off-guard, rendering you speechless.
"please don't," he whispers, "i feel the safest with you. if anyone or anything tries to take you from my side, i swear i'll take you back." without you, abel would truly be a lost child searching endlessly for the warmth that had left him.
the following day, you'd find abel and abyss as your scary dog privilege on campus.
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"... are you actually scared of me?" ABYSS gives you a melancholy smile as he asks you a question of his own. he had always dreaded the day that you would admit your fear of him because of his evil eye; although he knew that you would never leave him simply because of that, he still can't help but be scared of the slightest possibility that you might.
he slowly reaches for your face and gingerly cups your cheek, as if he's scared that you might reject him and pull away from his touch. he lets out the bated breath he didn't know he had been holding when you don't, and caresses the soft skin with his thumb.
"i know it's selfish of me to say this... but please don't leave me. you're all that i have, and life is only worth fighting for when you're there," he admits. abyss had a rough past where he was unloved even by his own parents, so when you approached him with a smile that shines like the light of dawn, he found himself unable to let go of your outstretched hand.
however, if the situation ever calls for it, he's willing to learn to let go. "if there ever comes a time when you're no longer by my side... then i'll accept it. but if anyone tries to take you against your will..." there's a pause as his left eye glints. "then i'll make sure that they're the ones who disappear."
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WIRTH lets out a loud laugh before leaning towards your face with a smirk. "And who would dare to take you away from me?" he'll gladly challenge anyone who attempts to do so, and he's confident that he'll win. "you've always been bad at hide and seek too, so how would you even hide from me?"
"just answer the damn question," you say with a huff, "it's not that deep. it's only a 'what if'." propping his chin on the palm of his hand, he mulls over what you had asked. if you disappeared because someone took you away...
"well, i'll simply find you and make the perpetrator suffer," he replies, "by the time i notice your disappearance, you wouldn't have gone far anyway." then, there's a long, awkward pause as wirth averts his gaze, like he wants to say something else but is reluctant to.
after a moment, he adds in a more serious tone, "if you need any protection, don't hesitate to find me. i promise i'll keep you safe." you can't help but feel a bit shy hearing those words come from him.
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CARPACCIO is eerily silent. he doesn't even look at you. he could only try to think of what his life would be like in your absence… and decides that he doesn't want to consider the possibility.
"disappear where?" he asks as he finally meets your nervous gaze, "would you disappear unwillingly? or of your own accord?" cupping his chin, he thinks about your question more thoroughly and tries to apply it in the different situations he could come up with.
"if you were taken against your will, then the most logical thing to do is rescue you," he answers, spinning his knife around his fingers, "and of course, i'll make sure that whoever kidnapped you will be in so much pain that they wish they're dead." a slight shiver went down your spine; you could actually see carpaccio doing that.
"but if you left on your own, then..." carpaccio trails off for a moment, unsure of how to vocalise his thoughts. "... i'd still find you, i guess. and try to figure out why you left."
carpaccio knows that the question you asked is merely hypothetical... but he can't stop himself from thinking that he may have done something to make you consider disappearing from his life. he'd try to figure out what instigated those thoughts of yours before finally asking you.
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"i have ways of looking for missing people. just finding you would be child's play," ORTER answers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "is that all you'd like to discuss with me? please stop wasting my time with your nonsensical questions. if you're that unhappy with our engagement, take it up with my father."
he doesn't want to admit it, but he's actually thinking about your question far too much to the point that it's affecting his daily life. he gets visibly agitated whenever he's not in your presence, which doesn't go unnoticed by kaldo, who proceeds to tease him. "what got you so nervous, hm? worried that your future spouse won't be happy with you once you're married?"
if renatus happens to be passing by, he'd join in by saying, "he brought it upon himself. who asked him to be an ass fiance? i wouldn't be surprised if they plan on disappearing from his sight."
renatus' words would get orter thinking. after pondering your question more, he'd come to the conclusion that you feel neglected and are planning to leave him soon. the mere thought makes his chest feel painfully tight, and he'd drop whatever he's doing to search for you.
the longer he takes to find you, the more anxious he feels inside. the moment he sees you, he'd grab your shoulder and roughly turn you around to confirm that it's really you. you're surprised to see the dread on his countenance, which gradually dissipates once he's sure that he has found you.
there's a flash of guilt in his eyes, and as he gently takes your hand in his, he quietly says, "i'm sorry. please... don't ever leave my side."
(you can read kaldo's part here)
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feyascorner · 3 months
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10 | The Fangs Between Us
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summary. “The damage you’ve done to my stomach is plenty. Thank you, darling,” he frowns. “And if I may: It isn’t completely fair to place all the blame on me, is it? I might’ve been intoxicated, but I wasn’t deranged enough to miss the way you kissed me back. Aggressively, might I add?”
You roll your eyes. “I was trying to bite your lip off.”
“I would believe you if you hadn’t made such teasing sounds when I bit back.”
warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks, suggestive content!!!! (new warning hehe)
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
parts. TFBU masterlist
a/n. actual????? communication????? after 45k words?!?!?!?!?!? or is it...this chapter is literally them being loser teenagers i love them
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To you, his touch is like a drug.
His breath, cool against your hot skin, presses against the shell of your ear as something dangerously close to a whine escapes your lips. You can feel him grin as he lowers his head and places a long kiss on your collarbone. His slender hands slide up your back, grinding you even closer than you already are as he mouths at every nook and cranny of your body. It’s almost like he wants to consume you whole. To drink you until all that’s left is a shuddering mess, your body still begging for his own.
White curls tickle your chin as the strings on your shirt finally come undone. His tongue brushes against the peak of your bare breast, and your eyes meet him in a lust-clouded haze, lips pursed as you swear you could reach your peak just by the way he looks at you. It’s so intimate, so vulnerable, so pleasurable that your eyes half close when the palm of his hand smooths against your clothed core.
He stills, lifting his head to kiss his way up to your neck again. As much as you want to beg him to resume what he’s been doing, he doesn’t let you. Instead, his fingers bring your face to his.
“Don’t hide from me.”
You shudder. You think you know plenty with how flushed your face is, but he doesn’t seem to care. He lowers back down your chest, grinning as he lays his cheek on your skin teasingly.
“If you look away, I’ll stop, my love.”
“Are you insane? Of course, he’s staying here!”
You lurch up from your pillow as the earth-shattering reality of the morning sun blares you awake. Cheeks burning, you rub at the bags under your eyes, humiliated in the face of nobody but yourself, as you hear more voices from downstairs. None of which even try to keep it quiet. You stare down at your legs, lips pursed.
Only still half-awake, you can practically feel his hands on your waist.
Curses. What are you? A prepubescent teen?
With a loud groan, you force yourself onto your feet. Considering how your dreams will only add to your stress, you might as well.
“Oh, thank gods you’re here. Tell him we’re not taking Astarion with us to the celebration, will you?” Shadowheart hisses as you descend the stairs, still half asleep. “Our wizard seems to have gotten the wrong idea about the leech upstairs.”
You swear Lae’zel snorts.
“It was only a suggestion. I wasn’t sure if we’d want to leave him alone here…isn’t that merely an invitation for him to run away?” Gale rubs his temple with his thumb, clearly exhausted.
You’re fully aware of Astarion’s nightly escapes into the city, but you don’t tell them that. It’s better not to cause a panic.
Shadowheart shrugs. “We’ll tie him to the counter. Hells, we can just lock him into the basement.”
Gale sighs. “He’s not a dog.”
“He acts like it,” Lae’zel grumbles, sinking her teeth into an apple.
“We could ask the Duke to spare some of his soldiers for the night. Make them keep watch while we’re at the party,” Shadowheart offers. “Anything to keep that dirtbag here instead of there. Isn’t that right, Tav?”
Gale’s eyes meet with yours. There’s a sort of expectancy in them that makes you squirm in your shoes as they bore straight into your soul as if he’s aware of your deepest secrets. There are bags under his eyes, surely from having to balance Astarion’s less-than-likable presence with all his other responsibilities in rebuilding the city. A part of you feels guilty for the work you’ve dropped on him, but both parties know it’s for the best.
It’s been made glaringly obvious that you and Astarion shouldn’t be anywhere around one another. It’s only a recipe destined to end in a yelling match or…
Your cheeks flare. Last night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.
“We’ll keep him here. Lock him in his room like Shadowheart said,” You finally blurt. “Can you send the invitation back with everyone who’s going? I have someone to visit in a few minutes.”
“Very well,” the cleric smiles, obviously pleased with your decision. Gale only frowns. “I’m glad that’s settled.”
So are you.
You hear the door of Astarion’s room open upstairs and decide you shouldn’t stay any longer. After rushing goodbyes to your companions and another questioning glance from Gale, you scramble to fly out of the house, barely grabbing your bag in the process. The contents weigh more heavily than they usually do, and for good reason. Hopefully, younger vampires feed less than fully grown ones because otherwise, the squirrel you found the night before won’t be able to satiate Berry’s appetite.
It’s hard not to wonder how she’s doing for most of your day. You were initially planning to visit her last night until the unfortunate ambush Petras released onto your already sore limbs. Even now, you constantly rub at the ache of your thighs and arms. The healing potions did plenty, but they couldn’t do everything.
She must be starving, you think. You grit your teeth.
Fortunately for you, however, when you arrive at the Highberry residence, Berry seems perfectly fine. In fact, she’s helping her adopted siblings arrange decorative plants around the house, likely to liven up the place after what’s been happening the past few months. There’s a sense of calm here that doesn’t currently exist in your own household. The scene makes a soft smile pull at your lips, which is more than welcome.
“You didn’t visit last night,” the young girl finally says when you’re with her by the window, far enough from the siblings to be out of earshot. She looks up at you sheepishly. “I thought you might’ve gotten attacked.”
She picks at her fingers.
“Were you worried?” you stifle a laugh, and she shrugs, albeit flustered. “I brought you some—prey. You must be hungry.”
“Not really,” she still takes the worn sack and clutches it close to her. “I went out to find food by myself.”
At this, your eyes widen. “What? You left for the forest? You know that place is dangerous, Berry; it’s not safe for someone as young as you.”
“I’m a spawn. It’s probably safer for me than you,” she squints, and you can’t bring yourself to deny it.
“...You’re still a child,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Where’d you learn to hunt anyway? The last time I checked, you could barely fight off a few forest animals.”
Her face flushes red, but she huffs regardless. “The haggard taught me.”
“Hag?...”
“Your friend,” Berry perches either of her arms on the windowsill, staring out at the passing civilians on the street. She whips her head to you and points at either of her fangs, opening wide. “He’s been teaching me to hunt with these.”
“Astarion?” you blink. “He taught you? Willingly?”
It’s rather hard to believe.
“No, I had to follow him. By the time he noticed, he didn’t have much of a choice,” she says proudly, puffing out her chest. Then she deflates again as if she just tasted something sour. “He got two big bears last night but wouldn’t share…So, I had to get my own squirrels because he told me I’d starve otherwise. That old hoot is selfish and mean.”
Well, it certainly sounds like him.
“You could’ve gotten hurt,” you scold her gently.
“Maybe by him.”
You want to say that she’s wrong and that Astarion wouldn’t hurt her, but the blasted comb flashes back in your mind, and reality sits heavy in your throat. So, instead, you bite your tongue.
“Have you found any of them yet? The other spawn?” she pushes herself off the wall to stand straight.
“I did—if fighting them counts.”
Her face falls and a part of you regrets even alluding to what happened last night. She begins to fidget with the sharp ends of her nails again and stares at your shoes. “There’s too many of them.”
You’d most certainly know.
“We have the Fist fighting for us,” you assure her, albeit pathetically. Even in your own ears, you don’t sound entirely confident. “And besides, the murder count has been decreasing as of late. If we keep going at this rate, we won’t have more than a body every two weeks—”
“It won’t work that way, though. They’ll just keep coming back.”
Were children always this perceptive?
You’re not sure what to say.
She clenches her fists. “Not all of them are bad, you know.”
“I know, Berry. You’re not a bad person at all; it’s just that—”
“I meant the siblings,” she blurts, finally meeting your eyes. “Aurora…she was nice. She was nothing like Petras.”
Aurora?
You’re suddenly leaning down to her, shoulders tense. “You’ve met the other siblings? Since when?”
“Only once, months ago. Petras tried to convince the others to stay here with him, but they said no,” her brows furrow. “He was furious that day.”
Of course. Why didn’t you realize that earlier? Petras, Dalyria, and Leon were the only ones of the main spawn that remained in the city, and being so swept up with their antics, you’d forgotten to ponder on the motivations of the others. You swallow the dry lump in your throat as realization slaps you across the face.
“So not all of them want to go through with the ascension?” you gasp. Berry pauses but nods slowly. 
Help. You could ask them for help. Surely, if they don’t want another Cazador running rampant in the city, they’d be willing to stop the ritual as a whole. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek as your mind races. Were they even aware of what Petras was up to? How many lives he’d taken?
You take her hands to stop her from picking at them, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Berry, where are the other siblings?”
“They told Petras they were leaving for the Underdark like they promised you.”
Gods, bless this girl. Somehow, she’s been more helpful than any other resource you’ve had the past few months—including the Duke, and your vampire spawn. You’d think she might be a blessing from the heavens if it weren’t for all the other bullshit they’ve thrown your way as of late.
“Tell Cora I dropped by,” you smile brightly. Though it’s rare nowadays, you feel almost hopeful. “I’ll come back in a week. Stay put until then.”
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By the time you realize how much time has passed being cooped up on your bedroom floor, the sun is already setting. You reach for a candle, flicking a match against the box before lighting a flame to illuminate the pages sprawled around you. In anyone else’s eyes, you might look nearly hysterical, but to you, it feels as if the weight of the entire city is on your shoulders again. In a way, you suppose it is. Unless you want more than just a couple dozen bodies on the city streets in a few months, that is.
Your eyes scan over Dalyria’s drawings for what seems like the millionth time. And for the millionth time, you find nothing. Since the last time you obsessed over her journal, there have been a few additions to your collection: some books on ascension, vampires, and, for some reason, a book on vampire lords. 
You’re not sure you see the point in picking up this particular book, considering the spawns’ master is long dead, which means none of them can become a true vampire unless they were to ascend—the exact scenario you’re trying to prevent. But perhaps spending an entire day at the library blossomed a newfound curiosity within you. 
There isn’t much in there you don’t already know from first-hand accounts Astarion would recall on the nights you couldn’t fall asleep. There are parts, however, regarding the vampire spawn they can compel that lure your attention.
“Vampire spawn were the masters of stealth and charismatic cunning,” you read mindlessly. “...vampire spawn would seek vengeance on their creators.”
Vengeance. Is that what it was when he tried to strangle you?
Your jaw clenches, and you feel a sort of buzzing on your lips. What an asshole.
Quickly, you shut the book with a slam as you decide that dwelling on information you’re already well accustomed to is a waste of time. You’d likely be a better source of knowledge than the book itself because of how basic its contents tend to be.
You stare at the cover, which simply illustrates a set of fangs. Cliche, you think, but it’s effective.
The room suddenly feels too quiet.
Fortunately, the uncomfortably loud growling of your stomach snaps you out of your trance.
Shoving the book under your bed, you swing the door to your room open to pace to the kitchen. Hopefully, there’s some dinner left over from last night—-worst-case scenario, you have to eat one of those days-old fruits gathered in the bowl on the counter. You don’t have much time to ponder, though, because you hear a familiar groan from downstairs as soon as you reach the top of the stairs.
“Will you please stop leaving dead animals in the cabinet? As grateful as I am that you’re feeding on them rather than our friends, it bloody reeks, Astarion!”
Shit.
Astarion stares up at you with wide eyes on his way up to his room while you blink down at him wearily. Gale continues to mutter mindlessly about whatever trouble the spawn has caused in his sacred kitchen, but Astarion doesn’t seem to pay him any heed. You feel naked under his gaze, but you think putting on at least four more layers of clothing wouldn’t even scratch the surface of how you feel.
“Good morning,” he blurts.
He never greets you. Not like this, anyway.
It’s not even morning.
Fortunately, he looks just as confused at his words as you do.
Searching for a response that won’t come to you, you refer to the lamest solution. A scapegoat, if you will. “I need to walk past you.”
Astarion immediately nods. “Right. Yes, of course.”
He stands to one side of the narrow stairs, and you cautiously squeeze past him. Has it always been this much of a struggle to fit two people on the stairs? It’s terribly awkward as you shuffle by, holding the air in your lungs in hopes that he doesn’t recognize how uneven your breath is. You’re sure he does, but it was worth a try anyway.
Suddenly, Gale is standing at the bottom of the stairs in front of you.
“Where are you going? I thought you needed a healing potion for your stomach,” he aims at Astarion with a raised brow.
The said spawn coughs. You almost choke on the air.  “No, I—I’m alright now.”
“Are you sure? That bruise was pretty nasty, my friend. Letting something like that fester will surely only hinder you…”
Astarion closes the door to his room. Slams, more like.
You glance at Gale pitifully, who only crosses his arms with a sigh as he turns to return to the kitchen. “He’s moodier than I was when I was going through puberty.”
Wordlessly, you trail behind him until he resumes whatever dish he’s cooking up inside a pot while you reach for an apple. There’s a comfortable silence as you perch yourself on the counter, legs gently swinging as you chew, cringing whenever you feel a mushier part of the fruit. Gale lifts his ladle to his nose and takes a quick sniff before nodding in satisfaction. He then puts the lid over the pot.
“I’ve never seen Astarion as awkward as he was earlier,” he comments, and you cough.
“He wasn’t that charming in the first place,” you grumble.
“I never said he was charming. Just that he isn’t awkward.”
“Maybe he’s still drunk from last night,” you scoff, blood boiling at the mere thought of how he acted. A strange sense of pride spreads through you, knowing you hit him hard enough to do some damage, but you still think you could’ve hit harder. All those months pent up should’ve garnered far more strength, surely.
“Or perhaps it’s from the kiss.”
You do choke on your apple this time.
After you wheeze out whatever apple chunks were lodged in your throat, your head whips in the wizard’s direction. “Gale, you–”
“It wasn’t voluntary, I’ll have you know,” he cuts in, crossing his arms. “I just happened to leave one of my books on the couch, which I only wished to retrieve for my nightly routine of reading at least 100 pages.”
You’re at a loss for words. Your face deepens in color, even as you beg it not to.
“I, of course, being the most fortunate lad I am, had to walk into the room when his tongue was halfway down your throat.”
You nearly shriek. “There was no tongue!”
“Well, that’s certainly a relief!” he laughs. “I likely would have had to pry my eyes out with one of Lae’zel’s swords otherwise!”
On any other occasion, you’d bite back at him, but you’re too busy drowning in your own humiliation to register half of his words. A blessing and a curse in this case.
“It didn’t mean anything!” you blurt, even though he never really asked. “It was—he kissed me. I punched him afterward, too.”
Gale raises a brow. “Really? It appeared to me that you were kissing back, though it might have just been the angle. Quite passionately, too, but that might’ve been the trick of the light…”
You slap your palms over your ears, praying to the gods that he shut his mouth for once in his damn life. “It didn’t mean anything!”
“Does he know that?”
“He hates me! And he’s kissed hundreds of people—I doubt one stupid kiss even bothers him.”
“Yes, but it’s a kiss from you. His ex-lover,” Gale shoots back. “And he doesn’t seem unbothered. Neither of you do.”
“So what?” You know exactly what, but it’s difficult to acknowledge at the moment.
“Tav,” Gale says carefully. “If you’ve—by any chance—begun to grow accustomed to his presence again…and I don’t blame you at all, by the way. I’ve become rather fond myself of forcing him to listen to magic lectures that nobody else is willing to listen to; however…if it’s becoming something more on your end–”
“It’s not,” your tone is more stern this time. Colder. “It never will be.”
“Really?”
“Do I need to punch him again for you to believe me?”
“That’s not quite what I’m getting at. I just witnessed the tension between the two of you, and it would be irresponsible of me as a friend if we didn’t work through what you’re feeling before things start to get out of hand.”
You groan, throwing your hands in the air. “There is no tension, Gale!”
“Now now, I might not be the most experienced out of all of us in romantic affairs, but I’ve had my fair share of them. With a goddess, no less! It would be wise if you heeded my advice and discussed what the kiss meant to both of yo–”
You clap a hand over his mouth, words gritting through your teeth. “Stop saying it!”
His response comes out muffled against your palm.
“Fine, I’ll talk to him. I’ll go up to him right now and tell him how I’ll bury him alive if he tries anything again. Would that be enough to shut you up?” 
Gale smiles. You don’t return it.
The angry march up to Astarion’s room should’ve been enough to wake up your other companions, but it doesn’t. You knock heavily on his door, foot tapping impatiently as you glare at Gale, who stands halfway up the stairs, grinning from ear to ear in a pathetic attempt to be encouraging. It only makes you want to shrink into your shirt.
When Astarion fails to answer after multiple knocks, you decide you have no time for this. “I’m coming in. Please don’t be naked.”
The door doesn’t even have a lock. His room is empty except for the cold air that hits your cheeks. You realize that the window is swung wide open, allowing the moonlight to pour onto the wooden floors where he’s left his cloak in favor of what you assume to be usual nightwear. You pull the door behind you and cautiously step into his room, eyes glazing over the rest. It’s a stark contrast from your own. Despite how much time he spends in it, there isn’t a speck of dust or an article of laundry where it shouldn’t be. His bed is neatly made, his chair pushed into his desk, and if it weren’t for his books organized on his desk, you’d think nobody even lives here.
You slowly inch toward the window, running your fingertips over his books. They’re worn but somehow still well taken care of. You can feel how old they are, yet their pages remain perfectly intact, without a single crease on any corners. 
When you reach the window, you finally notice the vines growing on the sides of the building that protrude just over the window sill. You hear soft thumps from the ceiling, resembling the pace of his footsteps. Or at least, what do you think they’d sound like if he made any sounds while walking.
The asshole knows you’re here. Of course, he does.
With a wary glance at the vines, you firmly grip both hands on the roots and slowly lift yourself off the windowsill. Thankfully, the stones making up the building make for good boosters to haul you up toward the rooftop, even though your instincts suggest you’d likely fall and die an unfortunate death here. Still, somehow, you manage to haul yourself onto the roof's edge with a final groan.
You slump rather unceremoniously onto the angled edge, and the slight snicker from the other occupant of the space doesn’t go unnoticed. You glare at him, and Astarion only grins, leaning back on both elbows. “Should I have lent you a hand?”
“I can climb a wall, thanks,” you snap, crawling to a spot that allows you to lie back and stay a generous distance away from the vampire spawn. The tiles of the roof feel cool against your skin. From only two stories up, you can see a full four streets further than you usually can from your window, where only a few people now shuffle through the city given the time of night. While you think it should be peaceful here, all you can focus on is the undead individual lying a good few feet away from you, staring up at the sky rather than the city.
“As much as I enjoy all the colorful insults you throw at me, I was hoping for some peace tonight,” he finally says.
“This is my rooftop that I paid for. I’ll go where I please.”
Astarion sighs, his eyes still gazing up at the stars. “Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence tonight? If it’s about the dead animals, I’ve already told Gale I’d store them outside from now on—”
“Last night didn’t happen.”
There. It’s like a weight off your chest. At least, it should feel that way.
He stops, moving to stare from the stars to you. “And since when could you manipulate the very essence of time?”
“Don’t get smart with me unless you want another repeat of yesterday. Maybe I’ll knock out a fang this time,” you hiss.
“The damage you’ve done to my stomach is plenty. Thank you, darling,” he frowns. “And if I may: It isn’t completely fair to place all the blame on me, is it? I might’ve been intoxicated, but I wasn’t deranged enough to miss the way you kissed me back. Aggressively, might I add?”
You roll your eyes. “I was trying to bite your lip off.”
“I would believe you if you hadn’t made such teasing sounds when I bit back.”
This boils your blood just enough for you to tear your gaze away from him and back onto the city. “Just forget it happened.”
“Must I?”
“Yes! It was clearly a lapse of judgment!”
“It was,” he affirms. From the corner of your eye, you can see him put his chin against the palm perched on his elbow, fully turning on his side to face you. “An exciting one. I thought I knew you well enough that I could trust you would never kiss me again.”
You glower. “I was bleeding half to death—I was barely conscious. For all I know, I thought you might’ve been someone else.”
You can both hear the obvious lie in the statement, but neither points it out.
“I do wish you’d stop doing that,” he mutters, staring through lidded eyes. “It’s hard not to pay you any attention when you constantly smell like fresh bait. It’s like seeing an entire feast before you but being unable to have a taste.”
“Yes, because I wanted to get attacked by your brother.”
“Right. That.”
He stares up at the sky again. Hells, if he stares any harder, you’d think his damn eyeballs would fall out. His white curls blow gently against the breeze, and from here, it appears like nighttime was really made for him. Or do all vampires just glow during the night?
“For all it is, I’m truly sorry.”
Your eyes resemble barrels as you turn to look at him. He’s now occupied with his hands—those flawless hands of his that, by some miracle, don't have a single scar on them even after all the two of you have been through. Those very same hands you’ve once loved and that you’ve grown to hate.
“I, of all people, should know what it feels like to have someone forced upon me. And if I had any sort of control over my body at the time, I assure you what happened last night wouldn’t have happened.”
Though it’s not the main point of his apology, you find yourself focusing on the implications. He would’ve never kissed you if he was sober. You know this—you’ve known this—so why you’re so preoccupied by this confession, you have no idea. Internally kicking yourself, you steel your mind to remain calm. He hates you. You hate him. Simple. You only notice, moments later, that he’s still talking.
“---and I’m aware we aren’t on good terms,” he says, softer. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stoop down to the levels of the dirtbags I had to deal with for two centuries. I might have questionable morals about all else, but in that aspect, I’m unlike them.”
Still wide and unblinking, your eyes slowly relax as you soak in his words. It’s been a while since you’ve heard him so sincere (in a manner that isn’t insulting), and it feels like a breath of fresh air. For a moment, you want to deceive yourself that you’d never reached Baldur’s Gate. That you and your companions are still camping in the woods, and Astarion is still only learning to care for another. That he never went to Cazador’s palace, and you never needed to stop the ascension.
You would’ve indulged in such fantasies months ago, but now, they feel too artificial to derive joy from them. They feel too hollow. Fake. Like biting into a poisoned apple. You can sense him waiting for your response, and it takes a moment, but you manage to mumble it out. “It’s fine. I did kiss you back. We were both not in our right minds. Just…forget it happened.”
You don’t know how to decipher the look in his eyes, but you’ve long given up on how to do it in the first place. Because every time you think you finally understand him, it turns out to be a mask or a plot to deceive you. And every time, you don’t see it coming. It’s better not to try at all because it means he has no way to lie to you in the first place.
“Very well,” he says numbly. “It never happened.”
Both your heads turn to look up at the dark sky. The stars twinkle overhead, glistening in their own respectful glories. There’s one in particular that shines the brightest, floating right beside another that dims compared to all the other stars. It seems to drag behind the brighter star like a shadow, always following but never truly acknowledged.
You pity it.
“Why did you quit music?” he asks suddenly. “I thought it was…your passion.”
“I can’t see the beauty in it anymore,” you say simply.
Astarion hums. “A shame. I was rather fond of your lyre.”
The brightest star almost appears to move again. The darker one trails right behind.
You raise your brow. “Is this where you run off to every night? To stargaze? It’s pretty, but doesn’t it get boring?”
“It’s not pretty at all, darling,” he grins, attention never leaving the sky. “I watch every night, hoping that the dimmer star dies out before the brighter one notices it’s there.”
Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova @madislayyy @lordfishflakes @nicalysm @djarinsway @tinystarfishgalaxy @brainz00 @hopeful-n-sad @ohdeerieme @madisban @chrismarium @chonkercatto @fanfic-share @bitterbeanren @sleepyred1703 @miskouly @ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm @divineknightmare @bangtanbecks @carolinelec @aelieknox @bluelovesleep @catching-fire-in-the-wind @moonlight-stay @thatbeanieboss @atotalmess-lol @lavender-romancer
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morallyinept · 2 months
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Hello Jett!!
Popping in with a quick little fandom game. Which Pedro-boy do you think this is a picture of, and why?
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love ya!!
Hey Lovely Patti! 🖤
So, this is totally Dieter. And it inspired me to write a lil' something, something...
I Carry Your Heart With Me 💙
650 words | Dieter Bravo x GN!Reader | Fluff ☁️
The door clips softly closed behind him as Dieter steps into the dimly lit apartment, the scent of familiarity enveloping him as he sniffs in deep.
After months of grueling, repetitive shoots in distant locales, he's finally home. Exhaustion clings to him like a second skin he wants to wash off and watch circle the drain, but a rabid spark of excitement ignites at the thought of seeing you again, and the emergence of urgency suffocates the need for a shower.
He tiptoes through the deep sapphire shadows of the lounge, careful not to disturb the tranquil ambiance that fills the space and dark corners. He heads up silently towards the bedroom, socks fluffy and static on the plush carpet.
Expecting you to be asleep at this ungodly hour as he pushes the ajar door fully open, but there you are, bathed in the rose gold glow of the bedside lamp, nestled against a mound of pillows - your eyes immersed in a book of poetry.
The sight of you, so serene and beautiful, steals the stale breath away from his lungs.
Without a word, Dieter approaches you, discarding layers like baggage drops in clumsy heaps on the floor until he's stripped bare; just flesh and silver metal. Nothing but a man and his loose sagging skin - and even looser morals - his beating heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and longing.
You look up, your eyes widening in surprise before breaking into a radiant smile that burns the retinas away in his eyes. In that moment, Dieter feels like he's finally home.
"Hey, you," you whisper, setting the book aside and reaching out to him.
"No, no. Keep reading. Read it to me." He says, climbing into bed beside you.
A soft smile tugs at your lips as you nod, settling back against the cradle of pillows. Dieter curls himself around you, soft belly on your hip, turgid cock on your thigh; resting his heavy head on your shoulder as you begin to read.
Your voice, a melody of warmth and tenderness, washes over him like a soothing balm, banishing the weariness that permeates his bones. He listens to the music of your words as you read a short poem from the book:
"...I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant, and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)..."
A knot loosens in his chest. Each word you speak acts like a gentle sugar scrub, exfoliating away the dust of distant lands and the fatigue of countless hours on set.
With each breath, he feels lighter, as if the weight of the crushing world is slowly lifting from his broad, tan shoulders. The tension that once twisted his muscles begins to unravel, leaving him feeling unkinked and free.
In the delicate cadence of your succinct words, Dieter finds a soothing solace, a reminder of the love that binds you together like silk lilac ribbons, despite the miles that separate you at times.
Dieter hums softly; a small kiss inked on your skin, a smile drawing his lips up as he closes his eyes and loses himself as your voice fades into the quiet of the night.
Love you, Patti 🖤
The poem quoted is a real poem called "I carry your heart with me" by E.E. Cummings and is a fave of mine. 🥰
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christinesficrecs · 7 months
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do you have any fic recs for season 3a? i’ve been rewatching and i really like the storyline 🥹
Well, Post-3B is my jam but try these ones. 🩷
Don’t Speak by fatale | 68.9K 
The Alpha pack has systematically attacked Stiles and his friends for months, testing their strengths and weaknesses. When one of the Alphas goes after Stiles, he awakens in the hospital and realizes that something’s wrong. Very wrong. All sounds seem to hurt him, he can’t understand what anyone is saying, and when he tries to speak, it’s gibberish. How is he supposed to deal with the fact that he’s lost the ability to communicate with his dad and his friends?
Without his ability to talk, his sarcasm, and his wit, what does Stiles even have left? Enter Derek, the only one who seems to make it better.
Thunderstorms & Polish Lullabies by Whispering_Samir | 10K
The one where Stiles time-travels just in time to save Boyd and Derek from the Alphas, and manages to heal everyone, including himself, just a little in the process.
There’s Monsters at Home by calrissian18 | 83,575
How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.
The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.
Derek despised him.
Forging Bonds by  mikkimouse | 27.5K
The loft was flooded, the water shimmering in the moonlight streaking through the huge windows. The twins held Derek on his knees, with his arms extended and claws out. Kali had Boyd, and she was dragging him toward Derek, and—
Stiles aimed at the twin closest to him and threw the Molotov cocktail as hard as he could.
Bake to Remember, Eat to Forget by  butyoureyessaidyes | 125.2K
The one where Stiles runs his own bakery, never locks the front door, and doesn’t know he’s part of a werewolf pack (until he does).
The Nightmare of my Choice by mirrorkill | 106.2K | Mature
Rogue werewolves and incubi and ghosts, oh my!: Life in Beacon Hills continues to be the epitome of weird.
Especially for emissary-in-training Stiles, who's being literally haunted by a parade of Beacon Hills' deceased, who are trying to compel him to embrace the darkness in his heart. His only source of comfort is when he's writing to an emotionally constipated Beta werewolf. When Derek Hale is your anchor to sanity? Yeah, weird might be an underestimation.
Stiles is well suited to the path of an emissary; in fact, something important about him has already been overlooked. Something that could have deadly consequences both for him, and for everyone else...
Wanted by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions) | 88K | Mature
With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.
In this Darkness (It's You I Hear) by Kedreeva | 9.9K | Mature
Deucalion bites Stiles on the way out of town, and Derek finds him in an unexpected condition....
here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain | 22.3K
“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”
Where You Go To Rest Your Bones by allyasavedtheday | 6.4K
Derek feels him take a deep, shuddering breath and then Stiles disentangles himself – though he stays within the circle of Derek’s arms. “I missed you.” he whispers, looking at Derek like he’s expecting to be kicked out at any moment.
You're stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter | 234.1K
Set at the end of season 2, Stiles survives his encounter with Gerard and his goons, but it isn't easy.
The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.
Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it's head!
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jellieland · 6 months
Text
This is somewhat inspired by some of the fics @theminecraftbee has written.
---
Two figures watch, from a nebulous nowhere, as Scar stands, alone, in the remains of his destroyed shop.
"I'm sorry," he says, mournfully, to no one.
"You Know," says the first figure, "I Really Wasn't Convinced When You Pitched This One."
Scar does not react. He cannot hear them.
"Yes," says the second, with an air of long-suffering patience. "I Do Know. You Were Very Vocal About It."
"...I really wanted to try and make some friends, this time." Scar, simultaneously right in front of them and a great distance away, sighs and looks up at the sky. "Oh, well. Nothing to be done about it now!"
"I Have Come Around To It," says the first.
"Good," says the second. "I Knew You Would."
They watch Scar start to sort through the mess.
"They Forget They Have A Choice," says the first. "It Is Fascinating."
They move on.
The move on to ash.
Skizz and Tango and Bigb stand right in the thick of it, quiet.
"You try to do one nice thing," says Skizz.
His hands curl into fists. He glares at the smoldering remains of the heart in front of him.
"You try to do ONE nice thing!" he yells, and punches one of the last remaining bits of wood.
Brittle from the fire, it breaks.
"Yeah, well! I guess this is why we don't," says Tango, resigned.
"It was always gonna happen eventually," says Bigb, voice level.
"They Always Try," says the first. "They Always Keep Trying."
"Yes," says the second. "They Chase Each Other In Circles Until All Of Them Are Dead. They Give Themselves Their Own Tasks."
"That Is Not What I Meant," says the first. "But That Is Also True."
They watch the three members of the Heart Foundation stand, for a while, in silence.
And they move on.
They move over to the mesa.
Martyn is standing inside his house, that used to be Jimmy's house too, facing the three chests on the wall labelled "TIMMY", "MUMBO" and "MARTYN".
He is talking animatedly, and gesturing. "-and I kept trying to get them to follow me there, but nobody was taking the bait. Honestly, you guys would've laughed at me. But it-"
They let the rambling fade into the background.
"A Good Dog," says the first.
"Yes," says the second. "He Does As He Is Told."
"-and I've honestly been feeling a bit left out today, isn't that funny? But- Bdubs said, he said he would join me next week, so-"
They move on.
They move to the cobblestone castle, in the side of the hill.
Grian is cooing over a small magma cube named Etho's Dishwasher.
Cleo and Etho are leaning against the staircase watching him.
"Are you both alright?" asks Cleo.
"Sure, I'm fine," says Etho.
"Me?" says Grian, turning around. "Oh, I'm good, I was being a total coward. I just hung around at the top of that tower by the Secret Keeper for ages and none of them ever thought to look up."
"Really?" asks Cleo, amused. "Some of them I would expect that of, but I'd think Gem would be a bit more on the ball."
"Well, apparently not," says Grian.
He turns back to the magma cube, and they settle into quiet.
"I Would Have Expected More Of The Alliances To Have Fallen Apart, By Now," says the first.
"Loyalty Is At Its Most Interesting When It Is Stretched," says the second. "These Three Know It Will Never Last. They Know That All Of Them Are Aware Of This. That Is Why They Are Still Here. They Know How Much They Can Care Without It Being A Lie. And Then Privately, They Care More Than That Anyway."
Eventually, Etho sighs. He looks tired.
He glances from Cleo, to Grian, and back, and after a moment of hesitation, speaks. "I, uh. I'm glad you two survived." He shifts awkwardly, and continues before they can respond. "I thought they were going to try and make me kill you, at one point, and- Grian, I don't know if you know this, but Cleo is scary when she's getting revenge. I did not want to have to worry about that."
Cleo laughs, slightly, and gives Etho a look of the deepest affection. "Well, I did die, is the thing, so thanks for reminding me of that."
"No, no, you knew what I meant! See, Grian? See what it's like?"
"Uh huh," says Grian, raising an eyebrow. "Well, thanks for not killing us."
Cleo frowns at him, suddenly curious. "Grian?" they ask. "Are you the only one who didn't die today?"
Grian opens his mouth, then stops to consider it.
"Or- no, wait. Martyn." says Cleo. "Well. Well done either way."
They watch the trio for a little longer, and then they move on.
They move to Scott.
He is alone, in a forest somewhere.
He is leant up against a cliff face, staring down at the floor.
"None Of Them Even Died, This Time," says the first. "Not Permanently."
"No," says the second. "It Was Controlled. Directed. There To Even The Playing Field. We Can Just Ask Them To Do That, Now, And They Will."
Scott draws his knees up to his chest, and rests his head on his arms.
He doesn't move, or shout, or cry.
He just stays there, quiet.
Eventually, they move on.
They move to the Secret Keeper.
Gem is standing there.
She is looking at it.
"If She Had Decided To Fail At The Start," says the first, "She Most Likely Would Have Lived. She Lost So Much More, Taking Things From Other People, Than The Nothing She Would Have Lost In Failure."
"Yes," says the second. "That Is My Favourite Part."
They watch her.
"Anyway," says the second, "She Would Not Do That."
"She Wouldn't?" asks the first.
"No," says the second. "She Understands Why It Is My Favourite Part."
Gem smiles.
"Thank you!" she says to the Secret Keeper. "That was a lot of fun!"
"You Are Welcome," says the second.
Blood on her hands, Gem turns and leaves, grin as bright as the sun.
They watch her go.
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thesensteawitch · 2 months
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What They Wish They Could Tell You?💌
Pick A Pile Reading
(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)
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Hello, Senstea Souls!✨
Here is another collective reading. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't.
If you wish to know more about your connection then feel free to book a reading with me!
Simply drop a message in my inbox💌
Booking Form|Rate Card|Tip My Blog
Pile 1
They wish they could tell you how much they are trying to find the courage to come forward and express their deepest emotions. They somewhere hope to get a message from your end. But they know if you message them, they will remember the pain and won't be able to put their love for you above the pain they are currently feeling. “I am focusing on my career and rebuilding myself. Give me some time. That's the only way you'll know what's truly there in my heart.” The universe is asking them to make a move toward you by showing them signs. They are in hiding and are afraid to come forward, but eventually they will. I am also sensing that this person is new to love. Especially this kind of love. If you wish to know more about your connection then feel free to book a reading with me!
Pile 2
This person is heartbroken. They are dealing with mental challenges and constraints. This person wants to say, “I am focusing on healing myself. I have past wounds that I need to deal with to move forward in life. To have anything great, I need to heal myself first. I am disappointed that you can't truly feel the essence of the pain and the spiritual journey I am going through. But I do understand where you are coming from. Though you may have hurt me, I carry eternal love for you in my heart.” This person had to walk away for the best of both of you. This person is putting their faith in God. They see nothing but God's hand in everything. Brutal honesty is the only way for them to free themselves from the enduring pain. If you wish to know more about your connection then feel free to book a reading with me!
Pile 3
This person wants to come forward and make things work with you. They see you as a courageous person. But there's a lot that you don't know about them, and they want to tell you their secrets, but somehow they cannot. This is what they want to say: “I know I have been guarded. I didn't tell you the whole truth. Know that I was protecting myself. There's no one like you, and sometimes I feel I am not worthy of you. I desire you, and I am trying my best to realise who I am and come forward as you want me to be.” This person knows that you won't judge them, but they are still afraid to share their past with you. They have been accused in the past, and nobody was with them. It's going to take some time for this person to come back healed. I am also sensing that in the past, they tried reaching you, but you didn't respond to their calls or texts. If you wish to know more about your connection then feel free to book a reading with me!
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tethered-heartstrings · 10 months
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i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) i am never without it // Here is the deepest secret nobody knows // i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) - e.e. cummings
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starcurtain · 1 year
Text
Haikaveh Fanfics I Really Want to Read (Part 1)
Part 2. ->
1. A run-in with a cursed artifact on a research trip leaves Alhaitham intangible and invisible. He can't be seen, heard, or even open his precious books (which is the real tragedy here). Things go from bad to worse when it's discovered that the only person who can break the curse is someone who "knows Alhaitham by heart."
Problem is, nobody does. The only one who might even come close is Kaveh, and will he really be willing to go out of his way to research Alhaitham's deepest secrets just to bring his scathing roommate back?
Turns out the answer is yes, and Alhaitham is left invisibly watching over Kaveh's increasingly desperate attempts to learn more about the most private person in all of Sumeru.
Yeah... Alhaitham's probably doomed.
(Or: The Akademiya's erstwhile scribe has nothing better to do than stalk follow his roommate around unseen, gets a front row seat to Kaveh's tough life, undergoes the mortifying ordeal of being known, and realizes just how much his own cold nature has left him isolated from the world.)
Rest under the read more:
2. Another research trip gone wrong: While Kaveh's out of town on a job and without a shield this time, Alhaitham takes a nasty knock to the head during a fight. Although he wakes up all right, he doesn't have the faintest idea who or where he is. Quick-thinking nature intact, Alhaitham decides to fake his way through on context clues for a while. It's an interesting experiment, after all, to learn about his own life from an outsider's perspective.
Too bad a very silly series of coincidences occur (i.e. Kaveh took most of his work things with him for his trip, so his room is pretty bare; they wash their laundry together to save water; and everyone keeps asking Alhaitham why some mysterious "Kaveh" guy isn't with him), all of which lead Alhaitham to the absolutely incorrect assumption that this missing "Kaveh" person is his significant other. Imagine Kaveh's shock when he returns home to a very out-of-character greeting...
(But I mean, really, does Alhaitham need his memories back? This is kind of nice, you know...)
3. Requirements for a Desirable Life (According to Alhaitham):
1. Match your actions to your talents (read as: go with the flow) 2. Low stress, high paying job (read as: the balancing act between making oneself seem indispensable while underachieving as much as possible is a talent) 3. Nice home with a short commute (read as: at-home lunch hours every day) 4. Books (read as: soon as possible) 5. Kaveh (read as: the light of my life who I moved into my house through admittedly somewhat underhanded tactics just to keep him close to me, but what was I supposed to do--tell him I have actual feelings? Impossible, in the most literal of senses)
Or: Alhaitham pursues his plan for an ideal lifestyle in an utterly single-minded and undeterrable fashion... except when comes to his roommate, who--for someone so good at drawing up his own designs--also seems terribly good at ruining Alhaitham's.
Just fall in love with me already.
(Basically, I just want to see Alhaitham be the pining one for once. He is one checkmark away from his dream life, but he'd rather sell his soul to Lord Sangemah Bay than confess without knowing how Kaveh feels first.)
4. Alhaitham is preeminently capable. He's beyond a genius. His research could rewrite the laws of reality if he tried hard enough. But he's also... terrible with people. Actually, terrible is an understatement. If Alhaitham is murdered one day, it'll be because he finally committed one too many social faux pas and honestly the masses will probably say he had it coming. Thank the lesser lord that the Akademiya's scribe has someone as gregarious as Kaveh around to help him learn, right?
Or: Five times Kaveh tried to teach Alhaitham social skills, and the one time Alhaitham put all those lessons into practice... on Kaveh.
5. The very silly comedy one: If someone were to ask Kaveh what the very worst thing about living with Alhaitham is, he'd say--well, first he'd say "Who told you?!", but after that, he'd say something that might come as a surprise. The worst thing about living with Alhaitham isn't their constant snarking and diametrically-opposed mindsets. It isn't the tacky, asymmetrical furniture Alhaitham keeps bringing home because it was "practical and inexpensive." (Kaveh's skin is crawling.) It isn't even the fact that his so-called "landlord" reminds Kaveh all too often about his unpaid rent while never lifting a finger himself to do the dishes.
Nope. The worst thing about living with Alhaitham is the experiments.
"How many books can I leave on top of Kaveh's sketches before he yells at me?"
"How angry will Kaveh get if I drink the expensive wine he brought home last night?"
"How many days will it take Kaveh to notice I keep rearranging all the stuff on his shelves while he's out?"
"How many times can I suggest he add Aranara statues to his designs before he tries to strangle me?"
It's bullying, is what it is! There's no limits to Alhaitham's behavior when his curiosity is piqued--the only thing that matters to him is the answer to whatever outrageous new question he's thought up in that thick head of his. And of course, the louder Kaveh shouts, the more "experiments" Alhaitham seems to dream up...
Honestly, someone ought to give him a taste of his own medicine!
(Or: Alhaitham and Kaveh end up in an exponentially escalating social experiment competition, pushing as hard as they can to find the other's boundaries. One of them has to break and give up soon, right?! Too bad Alhaitham's the god of stubbornness, and Kaveh's eternal peace of mind is on the line--if he can just win this, Alhaitham will finally give it up and quit bothering him! He can't chicken out first!
Because they're both very Normal™, it turns out there's not a single boundary to be found.
Well, at least answering the question "How many times can I walk in on him in the shower before he kicks me out of the house?" might save them some money on the water bill?
By the way, Kaveh wins. It turns out the answer to "How many dog ears can I fold into the pages of Alhaitham's books before he tries to kill me?" is 0.)
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alpydk · 3 months
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The Blind Date
First time writing anything remotely smutty. Very short. Based on the following post by @flymmsy - 611 words
Ao3 Link
Summary: An evening in the Elfsong tavern is always a night to remember. From the comedy club to the music of the bards that travel through the city, there’s something for everyone. You received the note last night, an agreement to a meeting with a blind date. You’d never tried one before but this one caught your eye. Wine lover seeks company for one evening. Must be open to magical experiences.
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An evening in the Elfsong tavern is always a night to remember. From the comedy club to the music of the bards that travel through the city, there’s something for everyone. You received the note last night, an agreement to a meeting with a blind date. You’d never tried one before but this one caught your eye.
Wine lover seeks company for one evening. Must be open to magical experiences. 
Nothing more than that was said and no more information was given other than the time, meeting place, and the instructions that you must wear a purple flower in your hair. You sit in the corner booth and look around hoping to see the person who has arranged this meeting and yet nobody shows up. You consider leaving but the wine in front of you remains untouched. It would be a waste and so you stay and drink, feeling the warmth of the alcohol blush your cheeks.
Or at least you hope it is the wine, because with that warmth comes another sensation, a tickling up your inner thigh like that of a cool hand exploring. You wipe your hand over it, feeling nothing, and yet the sensation continues moving upwards further and further until it stops suddenly. You look around hoping that no one can see you as you shuffle awkwardly in your seat as you try to reposition yourself, the tickle now becoming more centralised, more focused on where it wants to dance.
You try to ignore the feeling, wondering if you should stand up and leave, but you know if you do so you’ll either draw attention to yourself with the moan you so desperately want to let out, or you’ll end the moment abruptly being left on a precipice. You stay seated trying to distract yourself. The wine, a shade of red. The patrons, talking loudly. The man in the corner with the deepest of brown eyes.
You feel your cheeks blush and the pressure building between your legs. Keep your hands on the table, don’t bring attention to yourself. Bite your lip and swallow the gasps as they rise. The feeling is electrifying, first slow but now getting quicker. A sensation of rubbing and circling. It takes all your might not to just give in to it, to forget yourself and lose yourself to the pleasure, right here and right now.
The noise of the tavern builds up. More people coming and going. Laughing, talking, singing. And then there is you, a low moan being muffled into your chest, a secret being hidden from all and yet you wish you could shout it out loud. You shift slightly and the feeling becomes more intense. You’re thankful for the cacophony of the tavern's inhabitants as they drown out your uncontrollable groans. The wine, focus on the wine. 
You lift your eyes and see him watching you. His brown eyes focused on you, a devilish grin upon his lips, a twitch of his wrist and all you want at that moment is for him to witness your enjoyment, for him to know the effect he is having on you. And so you free that moan, you let the dam break and release the tension. A long uncontrollable mewl folding you over the table and you're thankful for the sounds around you drowning out your rapture. Yet you know he saw, you know he is satisfied.
You take a moment to compose yourself before looking up to your audience of one only to find that he has left. You feel a laugh rise in your chest finally understanding the words of the note you received. Truly a magical experience.
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amee-racle-ofmyown · 8 months
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yes I'm cringe ok what about it🤨
doodles of scenes from this (pre-)ahwm fic by @buc-eebarnes bc it's so wholesome I love it I love how you write them omg they're so cute and stupid GAH my heart
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betterdcyz · 2 years
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@haloshe​ requested for Joe:  Would you kindly stop staring at me ( Joe Goldberg or Connor )  (  Send ‘Would you kindly’ and a command and my muse has to obey. / accepting !! )    
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             “——sorry,  didn’t mean to.  I guess you were just quite enchanting,  but that sounds cheesy now that I’ve said that.”  
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sourmiguel · 1 year
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here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain (wc22322, teen)
Summary: “Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”
Stiles taking care of the pack will always be a weak spot. Stiles bossing Derek around is good stuff, too.
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rowdyhughesy · 1 year
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Holding your hand- Nico Hischier
“ I could start fires with what I feel for you “
- David Ramirez
inspired by Grace by Lewis Capaldi
word count: 1k
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I'm not ready to be just another of your mistakes
I can't seem to drown you out long enough
I fell victim to the sound of your love
You're like a song that I ain't ready to stop
I got nothing but you on my mind
Falling for Nico was all consuming, he existed in every crevice, every small crack, every minor detail of your whole being.
You’d tried to push him away. Keep him at a safe distance so he couldn’t reel you in but it was all in vain. The inviting look in his deep brown eyes and soft spoken words as he talked. How he carried himself when he walked into a room.
You tried and tried to not become another one of the girls who ultimately would get their hearts broken by beautiful men.
Every time you thought he’d given up he proved you wrong. He would show up at your apartment with a smile and promises of movie nights or takeaway from your favourite diner from the corner of your street.
“Whats your deepest fear?” He’d asked one time as you were laying in your bed, covers pulled up to your chin and phone beside you on speaker. Nico away on a road trip in Canada and even though he’s so far away he still feels as close as ever. Even from the other side of a phone call.
The question had caught you off guard, just a couple of seconds ago you’d been intently listening to the soft breathing of your -newly- boyfriend. Imagining him on his back in the hotel room, blanket up to his waist and one arm tucked underneath his head. Eyelids fluttering as he tries to stay awake just a while longer so he can continue hearing your voice.
“Being forgotten, never doing anything memorable with my life so that when I die people forget that I ever existed. Not leaving something behind that reminds others of me, that I was here once and now I’m not. I think that’s what scares me.” It’s quiet on the other end. Not even a ruffling from Nico moving on the bed or sounds of breathing. It makes you wonder if he hung up while you were talking.
“You’re not forgettable.” The response is simple but you understand the underlying meaning behind them. I will remember you, I won’t let others forget you existed once, I’ll make sure you’re not forgotten.
“What’s your fear?” Trying to push down the growing lump in your throat it’s easier to place the focus on him. On his thoughts and not yours, so you won’t feel as bare as you are feeling in this moment. Like you’re showing him every worry and anxiety you try to hide from everyone all the time. To not make people worry.
“Not being what others expect me to be. The whole idea of what a first round hockey player should be and making everyone disappointed.” His voice is whispering, like you’re two little kids in a blanket fort telling each other secrets nobody else can know.
And you suppose you are those two kids in that fort, hiding in your own space just the two of you whispering things nobody else will hear. Sharing things you’ve been scared to tell somebody else. Finding comfort in each other and the fact that you aren’t alone in your fears.
You tell him that he’s not making anyone disappointed, that he’s a great hockey player.
What you’re dying to tell him is I love you, I know you’ll become more than what anyone could ever think you would. You’re the greatest player I’ve ever seen. I believe in you.
Don't wanna let the pieces fall out of place
I was only just a breath removed from going to waste
Till I found salvation in the form of your...
Your grace
You’d never been religious but began to question the whole idea that people come into your life when you need them the most. That someone out there in the universe sends them your way because they know they’re what you need.
That someone out there gave you Nico when everything felt like a bottomless pit. A gaping black wormhole just waiting for the right time. Waiting for you to slip on that thin ledge and fall into it.
The hand that reached out and grabbed you right as you were about to stumble and fall. Saving you from the figurative monster that’s wanting to sink its claws and teeth in you. Rip you apart from the inside in the form of depression and loneliness.
He didn’t know it yet, you haven’t told him about that part of your life before he came into it. You aren’t sure you’ll ever tell him. It feels so long ago now, a million light years away. A distant memory of the past that you’d rather never think about again.
Not now that he’s here and he isn’t going anywhere. He’s here and he’s pulling you further away from that ledge without even knowing it.
You remember the first time he told you he loved you. It’s still unsure if he even meant for the words to slip out.
He says it was on purpose but the pink tint on his cheeks when you bring it up tells another story. You said it back without even think about it. It felt like second nature to say you love him out loud. Because you do, so much.
Nico’s lips had pulled up into a goofy smile before he’d grabbed your cheeks and pressed a hundred kisses on your lips. Repeating I love you breathlessly when you pulled back for air. Brown eyes shining brighter than the stars and sweaty hair falling over his forehead. Still dressed in his gear but it was perfect.
You aren’t religious but you thank god every single day for bringing you Nico. For the stars aligning and bringing you the person meant for you, giving you the sunlight that shines over the darkest shadows and that keeps on shining.
Keeps on holding you away from that invisible ledge.
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hiseyebrowsaregone · 7 months
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do you have a list of sterek fic you recommend most?
First I have no idea how long this has been here and I'm sorry that it has took me however long to answer, I never saw the ask before now!
Anyway your (long?) Awaited list!
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Will to follow through by owlpostagain
| 2/2 | 42,411 | Teen and Up | Sterek |
“It depends entirely on how you look at it, I guess,” Stiles shrugs. “On the one hand, instant healing and the apparently inherited ability to pull off leather at all times. On the other, serious attitude problems and a suspicious disappearance of eyebrows.”
“Even Derek’s?” Danny snorts, “that’s a lot of eyebrow to lose.”
“I know,” Stiles agrees. “You should see, it’s so weird. Every time I want to ask him where they go, except he’d totally eat my face off.”
“There are worse ways to die.”
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain
| 1/1 | 22,322 | Teen and Up | Sterek |
“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”
The gift of death by Lalaith_Quetzalli
| 1/1 | 10,913 | Teen and Up | Sterek |
Stiles realizes he cannot trust Scott, he’s never trusted the Argents, and Derek tries but he cannot do it all alone. Which means that if he wants to stop the kanima before more people die, he’s going to have to step forward himself. It’s time everyone learns who Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski truly is…
On jest słońcem (He Is The Sun) by haaaveyoumetted
| 3/3 | 6,166 | No rating | Sterek |
"AU where Stiles speaks in Polish to his dad
And maybe he talks to himself in Polish too
And maybe he talks about Derek a lot. Derek’s eyes. Derek’s shoulders. Derek’s adorable teeth. Derek’s arms. Derek Derek Derek
And maybe he has a nickname he calls Derek when he talks about him, because he could pick his own name out of a sentence and that would be embarrassing, right?
And maybe Derek understands every damn word, because you speak many languages Derek Hale
And maybe it kills Derek a little bit that Stiles hasn’t told him about this guy he talks about like he hung the moon. Maybe it kills Derek a little that it’s not him."
There Are No Wolves in California (Werewolves on the Other Hand...) By isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) & KioFox
| 4/4 | 49,010 | mature | Sterek |
“I’m not calming down until you call animal control! I fucking saw it! There were fucking wolves!”
“There are no wolves in California, Mr. Daehler,” the principal said, sounding exasperated, like this was the third time she’d said it to him.
“Well clearly there are!” he shouted back, showing such a lack of respect for the woman, Stiles had to applaud her for her fortitude not to smack him in the face.
“Perhaps you were mistaken,” she said calmly.
“No I wasn’t fucking mistaken,” Matt insisted, sounding incensed. “No way these were dogs, they were massive!”
For a second, Stiles felt like the world had slowed considerably as those words wormed their way into his brain. Because—he knew a dog that was massive. Honestly, he’d also brushed away the idea of the dog being a wolf because there were no wolves in California.
But... what if there were?
Holy shit, had Stiles literally spent his lunch break with a fucking wolf cuddled into his side while he pet it?! Good God, he was lucky to still have all his limbs!
Go Away, Scott by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere
| 45/45 | 66,227 | No rating | Sterek |
After the incident at the warehouse, Stiles is fed up with Scott. He finds himself drawn into Derek’s pack and in the process, drawn to Derek himself.
With the Alpha Pack closing in, Derek needs to learn how to trust his pack and those around him. And who better to help him than Stiles?
I wanna hear (how your heart speaks) by LadySlytherin
| 25/25 | 97,791 | Explicit | Sterek |
When an attack on Derek leaves Stiles as collateral damage and causes him to lose his hearing, the Pack is at a loss. With the Alpha Pack to contend with and his wayward betas barely come to heel, Derek’s already got his hands full. He doesn't have time for an injured human teenager or his sheriff father. But Stiles is pack - something Derek has known for a while - with the potential to be even more. And Derek soon finds that Stiles is more of an asset than anyone realized, even with his new limitations.
As for Stiles, he's about to find out that sometimes when you lose one thing, you gain so much more.
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